The Sultanah Ch. 13

"Worse than a thief," Soyguncu protested.

"I must admit I was surprised to find them there," Saygili said, "I have known many of his men through the years. He is a bastard, but everyone has always said he is very devoted to his family. His daughter, in particular, is supposed to be the apple of his syphilitic eye."

"Never underestimate a coward," Soyguncu said and Saygili whistled. But I focused on his words. I felt something growing inside of me. Something malevolent. Something I could not control. It came so quickly, I barely recognized it.

"So his daughter is his most beloved family member?" I asked and there was a tinny, otherworldly character to my voice. Both Soyguncu and Saygili looked at me strangely, hearing my voice.

"Yes, apparently. She is 24 and unwed because Duke Hain has yet to find a man suitable for her. She is said to be charming, beautiful, and arrogant," Saygili said, "Hopefully she will have good information, but I have not spoken to her yet."

"Well one of us should. Bring her here to me. Immediately," I said blankly. Saygili could tell from the quality of my voice that I did not want to hear more. He quickly turned and left.

* * * * *

Half an hour later, Soyguncu had gone, at my request, to send my regards to Cin and to check in on her condition and I was by myself in my room. At first, when left alone, I had inspected myself to determine what damage I had suffered. My head ached and I was certain that I would have a bump the next day. My arms and legs had some bumps and bruises, but nothing particularly troublesome. It could have been much worse.

Of course, it was much worse. When I had taken the time to assess my body, I finally had a moment of quiet solitude in which I could reflect on what had happened. The shock and surprise of the moment was still on me, but I was able, briefly, to look outside of it. And all I felt there was guilt and pain.

My first thoughts of were of Arkadas. As everything came into focus in my mind, I could see her face. Smiling. My companion and protector since childhood, my most trusted confidant, my most constant lover. There had been so many times in my life before the last year when I had been so very alone. My father hated me, my sister hated me, and my brothers barely noticed me. Arkadas had been my entire world. She had loved me when no one else had. She had led me into adulthood and protected me, the real me, deep inside the hardening body of the Sultanah.

I had told her so many times that I loved her and that I would always love her. I had meant it every time. For months now, I had so little time for her. So little real time. I kept telling myself that when events began to cool, when time began to slow, I would find Arkadas again. I did not know how our relationship would change in that time, but I had always known that it would be the two of us. There would always be time and we would die old women together, maybe lying in the same sickbed and trading jokes about our nurse. Now there was no time. I hadn't even gotten around to the technicality of emancipating her. Temporarily on the backburner, and now forever into the void.

I thought of the last time that I had seen her. Her eyes welling with tears as she went to war. She placed her body in front of mine, shielded me. She had never wanted that kind of life, but she had taken on danger, she had walked into the jaws of death. For me. I thought of her last words as she looked at me, so simple and so honest to who she was, "I love you Varis." And I had not said anything back. I could not remember the last thing I said. I was sure that it had not meaning. And then she turned from me, never to speak to me again. Never to see her again.

Or could I? As my weary eyes closed I was struck by an image. I could not know then, and to this day I do not "know" now, but I know that I saw her. It was a vision sent by Gunes and I know it. The beautiful marble floor of the throne room. Arkadas lying on her back, her legs together and her hands clasped between her breasts, covering a wound that will never heal where her breastbone was shattered. Her skin, so beautifully pale all our lives, was the color of snow. Her lips purple. Her eyes open, but uncomprehending. Her beautiful, long hair crimson and matted against the floor. The golden locks dyed the Sun God's color with her own vital blood.

I knew that this was how she had looked, the image was so clear and so horrible. It felt so real, so real that I wished nothing more than to reach forward into my mind's eye, to caress my friend and tell her that her worries were at an end. To promise I had always loved her as she had loved me. To let her know that I could never forget. But I could not. Even that little consolation was lost to us, whatever it would have been worth. Maybe nothing anyway. Unconsecrated ashes in from fire that consumed the purest thing in this life.

But the thought of Arkadas...body. The uncertainty I felt in not seeing her. It reminded me that perhaps there were worse things than not truly knowing. After all, I had seen Kardes fall. I could will the image into my mind at will. And I did. Over and over again, seeing it happen and each time being completely unable to stop it, to arrest the tide or even to scream out in agony. Too terrible to even comprehend, but for a time it was the only thing of my sister that I could truly remember. The indignity, the horror, and callousness of her death. She was so much and then, in that instant, she was nothing anymore.

"Varis stop. You are more important...stay out of the way!" My sister's final words to me. A keen understanding of politics and strategy to the end. Where would I have been without my sister Kardes? Without my Minister of State? She had taught me how to be a Sultanah in those first dark days, or at least shown me the path I needed to take. She had taught me how to search for advantage and to exploit it. And how to cover your tracks. Loyalty. Perhaps she had shown me that most of all.

But it is too little to simply explain what she had taught me, she was so much more than that. A lover too, of course. And not just the physical (though she had certainly been that). But a lover of life and of the opportunities it provided. Ambition. She had that, but in a manner I had never seen before. A desire for advancement without ruthlessness. A gentle desire to have what her intelligence deserved. It had certainly not been this. I had been wondering so much what my sister would be now that she finally had something of what she desired. Now the world would never know. She never received her chance to live what she had achieved.

Thoughts of both women jumbled in my mind as I sat and I waited. I sunk deeper and deeper into myself as I thought of them. So very different. So very much unlike one another. They didn't even really like one another. Seemingly the only thing that bound them together was the love they bore for me. I was the link that bound them together. That still bound them together in death.

And what was my role in all of this? This is where my thoughts became the most clouded. Though I knew that it was right to feel that way. In fact, the only thing I felt was shame and guilt. What else could I feel? I had antagonized Hain and I had failed to consider the consequences of my actions. I had acted impulsively. I had jumped right into the river, forcing my friends and lovers in after me. I swam to the other side, but they couldn't keep up. The two women who had most tried to control my passions had been dashed to pieces by them.

"They would be alive if it was not for me" I said aloud, hearing the words echo in my empty room. I could almost see them in the room at that moment. Kardes, standing by the window and giving me advice. Or Arkadas in my bed next to me, in the afterglow of love making. I closed my mouth and dropped my head into my hands. I kept thinking that I would do anything to go back, to change my actions to undo what had happened. I thought of all the things I would say to them when they came back. And then I would shake the ghosts away, realizing that the fantasy was preventing me from accepting that they were dead and I was solely responsible. I hated myself as Sultanah and I hated myself as Varis. I had let them down. The knowledge that both would likely have forgiven me made the guilt so much heavier.

In felt heavy, weighed down by the guilt. My breathing was slow, ponderous, and rasping. My brain flittered through a thousand different thoughts and had a hard time settling on anything for more than a few moments. I relished the pain in my hand and squeezed the growing bump in my fingers, savoring the pain I gave myself, knowing I deserved more. I wanted to cut off my hands or gouge out my eyes, I wanted something to relieve this pressure inside of me. This self-hatred that was growing and growing to the point that it was about to swallow me up already. I wanted to dive head first into it. To taste the oblivion.

"What on Earth do you think you are doing?" a voice called out. My head shot up instantly and I saw that the door to my room had been pushed open by guards and a woman had been shoved in. It was only then that I remembered my instructions to Saygili and the dark impulses that had placed them there. I felt those impulses flooding back, overwhelming my self-hatred and allowing me to breathe fire outwardly, "Oh it is you," the woman said as she adjusted to the light and looked over at me. The guards quickly closed the door, leaving me alone as per Saygili's instructions.

"Is that how you speak to me?" I said, feeling the same anger rising up inside of me. The anger directed inward was now pouring out. But it was more controlled now, and more focused. It was pure hate.

"I meant no offense, Sultanah," the woman said snottily, "But what is the meaning of this? By what right do you bring me here? Let me and my mother return home this instant. This is absolutely unheard of, though I suppose I should expect nothing less..." As she droned on with her complaints, she walked from the door in closer towards me. Slowly her form came into the light. Even in my state, I was surprised by how beautiful she was. It seemed so unlikely that a fleshy, unpleasant man and his wan, worn out wife had ever produced such an alluring creature. Of course, I did not think of it in just that way. I thought about a flower growing in a pile shit and wondered what it would feel like to stomp it into the ground.

She was petite and slim at around 5'1 and she looked younger than her 24 years. She had exceptionally long, black hair that hung down straight along her back. Her skin was a light olive color and very smooth and even looking. She had wide, innocent looking dark eyes, a small, slightly upturned celestial nose. Her lips were tight but pouty and her face had a look of intentional innocence. Her arms were thin and elegant, her breasts were perfectly proportional and sat up high on her chest. Her stomach was flat and her waist was very thin. Her hips were somewhat narrower than her breasts and her legs were similar to her arms, graceful and lean.

She had clearly been roused from bed and she was wearing only a nightshirt that fell halfway down her thighs and had very short sleeves. However, her eyes did not look sleepy, instead, she was enraged. It was rippling below her barely controlled surface. I fed on that, feeling my own heat rising. Her reasons were so insignificant compared to mine. She had no right to feel anything.

"Silence," I said and Kolza reacted to the coldness in my voice. She stopped moving towards me and stumbled a little. She took a deep breath and seemed to collect herself.

"Sultanah," she said, making an effort to sound more respectful, "I do not understand why I was roused by armed men in my sleep, dragged through the streets with my mother, imprisoned in this palace, and then finally brought here to you. I believe it is totally unconscionable and outrageous. I believe that this is the actions of a despot and a tyrant and I do not intend to stand for it," despite her efforts to be submissive, she got angrier and angrier the more she spoke. I saw her cheeks flushing red and her eyes growing wild. An unbecoming petulance in one so physically lovely.

"It is not for you to know why I do anything I do," I said to her. I was still not certain what I was going to do with her. That's not true. I knew exactly how this would end and I wanted it. But I couldn't admit it to myself in that moment. I can rarely admit it to myself now. Something had taken hold of me. That's a lie. I was directing this, but I knew, even then, that I did not want the responsibility.

"You have no right to hold me here. This is not fair and it is not right," she spoke as a child who is used to getting her way. She truly was the pampered favorite of an indulgent father. I had a long and spite-filled history with just such a girl and I felt that baggage shifting onto her as well. Just a little more kindling to throw on the raging bonfire, "And when my father finds out..."

"Where is your father?" I interrupted her. After all, she was here ostensibly to be interrogated. She looked taken aback, as if I had no right to question her.

"Why ask me? I am sure you have him here somewhere," Kolza responded coolly. I wondered if she was play-acting her ignorance, though I admitted she seemed genuine. She did not appear intelligent enough to manage artifice.

"Tell me where he is and you can leave now," I lied. I sat up in the bed as I spoke (feeling a little lightheaded) and then draped my feet over the side of the bed. In a moment, I was standing on the cold floor next to my bed. I walked slowly, gaining my bearings, until I was standing in front of Kolza, just a few feet from her face. I wanted to look at her while she answered.

"Did you not hear me or something?" she asked shrugging, "I said I don't know. I assume you have him here."

"When was the last time you saw him," I asked quickly.

"I don't have to tell you that!" she spat back. I raised my hand quickly and brought my open palm crashing against Kolza's cheek. I heard her grunt slightly and then the room filled with the sound of my slap. My fingers hurt slightly and my whole hand felt tingly. But the power was incredible. I felt weight lifted from my chest. I had shot some of my hate out of my hand and had deposited it in Kolza's smug face. It felt good. I had to restrain myself from hitting her again for no reason.

For her part, Kolza staggered slightly and remained on her feet. Her hands instinctively rose to her now reddened cheek, holding it closely. Her large, innocent eyes were staring at me in disbelief and she was whimpering slightly in pain. After a few moments, she mastered herself and stood up straight again. There were tears in the corners of her eyes but she spoke without sniffling. Ladies must always maintain their dignity. Though I planned to test that.

"You can't do that, you won't get away with it," she said pridefully.

"When was the last time you saw your raging prick of a father?" I asked. She hesitated a moment and I slowly raised my hand again. I wanted her not to speak, I wanted an excuse to hit her again, to feel that power over her grow. To feel the relief that it brought, the righteous release.

"I don't know," she finally mumbled, "It was likely this morning at breakfast." She was looking at me warily. I was beginning to believe that she didn't know anything useful. But she definitely did not trust me.

"Had he been acting strangely? Did he discuss any plans?" I asked.

"What?" she asked. I took this as an excuse. I quickly lifted my hand and slapped Kolza's face again. I swung harder this time and I felt the bones of her face hard against my palm. She screamed in pain and dropped to her knees. The physical sensation was more intense than before, but the spiritual gratification was somewhat lessened. I needed more than this to satisfy my rage. I could hear Kolza panting slightly and she rose to her feet again. Her cheek was very red and glistening with tears.

"Don't do that!" she begged, "Please, I don't understand. You can't do this..." I raised my hand again and she cowered slightly, "And I don't think so. I mean he doesn't talk about that kind of stuff with me. Or my mother."

"Where would he go if he fled the city?" I asked, but I was already nearly certain that she knew nothing.

"Where would he go?" she asked, then added quickly before I could react, "My father wouldn't leave. I don't know where he'd go if he did."

"Well he is gone," I said.

"No, he can't be," she said.

"Are you calling me a liar you shit? He is gone."

"I don't believe you! You cannot do this," she said. I raised my hand again, tired of that refrain. Kolza raised her hand in self-defense, "Please, I don't know what is going on." I felt now to that I needed to hit her in a different way. To cast down her idol and see her disillusionment.

"He burst into my palace an hour and a half ago and tried to murder me. He killed my sister Kardes, my closest advisor Arkadas, and two of my priestess. My army defeated his coup and he fled. Most of his co-conspirators will not live the night. He left you here because he doesn't care what happens to you," I spilled it all in a couple of long breaths. I saw Kolza's eyes go glassy and as I was speaking she was shaking her head.

"No..."she final said, "No, there is a mistake. Just bring him here and he will explain and it will all go back to normal. Don't kill anyone!"

"I didn't choose to kill anyone. He did. Things cannot go back where they were. And for the last fucking time, if I knew where he was he would be here. I cannot bring him here, he fled the city in the night and left you here."

"He wouldn't do that," she shot back but clearly she was growing nervous. Her breathing was shallower and she was glancing around, desperately, searching for some way out of this.

"Why not, because he is your daddy and you are his special little girl? He wouldn't leave you?"

"Stop!" she said and I knew that I was close to the truth. She felt abandoned.

"Is it tough to be the favorite and then find out that your daddy is a snake, a traitor, and a coward to boot?" I asked.

"He is not!"

"Then tell him to come here and save you!" I shot back. Kolza's eyes grew wide and her hand rubbed her cheek warily.

"Save me from what? What are you going to do to me?" As she spoke, she took a step back and her voice grew higher. It was clear we were building towards something. As my anger and my hatred began to rise to heights I had never felt before, I decided that it was time to let her know what that was. It was clear that she didn't have any information. Frankly, I hadn't expected or wanted any information. It wasn't about that.

"Your father could have found a way to just come for me. Maybe there were times that he tried. But he was a failure at that like he was a failure at everything else. And then today he burst into a meeting of my Inner Council. He killed my sister. He killed my friends. And he killed my priestesses. And he left me. And I have to live with that. But he was the one who decided to make it about family. About people we care about," I said, the words shooting from my lips like darts of ice. I saw the recognition come into Kolza's eyes. She almost turned to run, but seemed rooted in her spot. There was nowhere to go.

"I didn't have anything to do with this. I am sure it was an accident. He just wanted you!" she said. A light went off in my head.

"So you knew he wanted me dead?" I asked, it seemed she had admitted as much.

"Not dead. Just gone. I don't know all the details. I just knew he wanted you gone," she said desperately, "I didn't do anything about it. It was just...it was just an idea. Don't kill me." She was almost to the door now, looking at it desperately, her eyes panicked. I could see her large chest rising and falling in fear. I breathed that fear in. I loved it. I decided to leave that point hanging and address the first part of her statement.