“But the rash seems worse today, my lady,” her servant pointed out. “It has crept down your legs and is even between your toes now. And there are more bumps erupting on your face and belly. And nothing the physician has prescribed has worked to ease your difficulties. Those little lumps ooze each time one breaks and it takes forever for them to dry up. And many that have broken have just been raised anew from the pus itself,” she observed.

“The Razi, you stupid cow!” Anora snarled. “If I must bear this torture at least I can escape into a dream.” She flung herself onto a low couch.

The serving woman fetched a large goblet and brought it along with the crystal pitcher to a small table by Anora’s side. She poured the Razi into the goblet, smelling the delicious fragrance of peaches as she did. Anora snatched the goblet from her and drank it down, almost immediately holding the goblet out for more.

Anora looked at the large pitcher. The Razi sparkled within its crystal container. It would take her most of the afternoon to drink it all, but she would. And in between she would doze and dream. The stink of her sores and the appalling itching wouldn’t plague her at all. Razi was what she needed to relax, for Anora had been terribly distressed by the nasty rash and evil pustules that had afflicted her. She swallowed down half the gobletful and felt generous. “Go and get some rest or just do what pleases you for a few hours,” she said to her servant. “I will be all right here with my Razi. And do not ask, for I want no food. My belly is still distressed with this illness.”

“Thank you, my lady,” the servant replied. “If you are certain you do not need me I do have some things to do. And a walk in the garden would be pleasant.”

“Go along,” Anora waved her away, sipping at her goblet, her eyes closing.

The servant scampered from her mistress’s chambers sighing with relief to finally be free of Anora’s usual bad temper and the stink of her open sores. When she returned late in the day she wondered if she had stayed too long and if Anora would be angry at her. But the emperor’s second wife was content. She even asked for some soup, which she drank down, returning then to her pitcher of Razi which was now almost empty. The serving woman helped her mistress to bed. Anora clutched her cup as she lay back, the last of the Razi in it. After washing the empty pitcher the servant dried it, set it among her mistress’s things, for it was very beautiful, and found her bed.

When morning came the serving woman looked in on Anora. She appeared to be sleeping still, and as sleep had eluded her these past few days the servant decided to allow her mistress more rest. But when the noon hour came and there was no indication that Anora was awakening, the servant crept into her mistress’s bedchamber. Anora looked beautiful despite the rash covering her body but the serving woman saw that she was not breathing. She put a small hand mirror to Anora’s nostrils to be certain, but the mirror remained unblemished by even the faintest breath. Dropping the glass the servant ran from Anora’s apartments screaming.

The emperor was informed that his second wife had died, apparently in her sleep. A physician came and seeing the rash and weeping sores announced that the poor lady had died of an infection, the cause of which was unknown to him. Criers went through the city announcing the untimely death of the emperor’s beautiful second wife, the lady Anora. Because of the nature of her death the body would be cremated and the ashes buried in the family’s burial ground. A public memorial would be held so that all the citizens of The City might mourn with the emperor who would host a grand feast for all of his good people.

The lady Vilia returned from her villa in the Outlands genuinely shocked by Anora’s sudden death, but Gaius Prospero’s apparent distress over his second wife’s demise soothed any suspicions she might have had. Jonah said naught to her and he, too, appeared surprised by what had happened. But when on the first month’s anniversary of Anora’s death, at the Spring Festival, Gaius Prospero publicly freed his beautiful new slave girl, Shifra, Vilia began to wonder if Anora had not been murdered-and if her own life was now in jeopardy.

In the dark of night she made her way through the palace and sought her lover’s quarters. All was quiet. She had managed to come to him using a series of hidden passages, thus avoiding the guards and the fierce panther cats that were brought in at night to prowl the palace with their keepers. Jonah was surprised to see the hidden door in his bedchamber open suddenly and Vilia step through.

“This is unwise, my love,” he told her.

“I want the truth,” Vilia said. “Was Anora murdered, Jonah?”

He smiled a rare smile. “I wondered when you would decide to ask me that question,” he said, drawing her into the comfort of his arms. “The answer is yes, but I do not consider it murder, my love. The emperor wished to rid himself of her. He outlined to me the generosity he would show to Anora, for you know his fear of not being considered generous and benevolent. And then suddenly it occurred to us that perhaps there was an easier, a quicker way. You know her weakness for Razi. I indulged it.”

“You poisoned her,” Vilia said softly.

“With the illness she has been suffering I could be almost assured that the rash and pustules would be held to blame and they were,” Jonah replied. “She did not suffer.”

“And am I to be disposed of next?”

“Yes,” he answered her candidly.

“Jonah!” She gasped.

He laughed gently and caressed her head. “In a far more humane way, my love. He holds you in high esteem, Vilia, but he wants to divorce you while at the same time not giving the appearance of cruelty or ingratitude for he knows that the people admire and respect you.”

“To wed Shifra? He can have as many wives as he wants,” Vilia exclaimed.

“To not just wed her but to make her his empress,” Jonah said quietly.

“Never!” Vilia replied furiously. “The pig! That wretched little man would not sit so high were it not for us. He would take a nameless slave girl and make her empress of Hetar? He would put that soft girl in my place? I will kill him first!” Her eyes flashed angrily and there was high color in her cheeks.

“I have never seen you like this,” Jonah murmured low and then pushing her to the carpet he fell upon her, his hands shoving her gown up. “You are surely the most exciting woman ever created, my darling Vilia.”

“Get off me! Let me up!” she ordered him.

“No!” he growled and thrust himself into her female passage.

Vilia beat at him with her knotted fists. “Stop! I do not want you! This is no time for pleasures, Jonah. Stop!”

“Liar! You are already wet with your desire and I must have you!” He forced her arms above her head. Finding his rhythm he began to pleasure them both despite her protests, which waned until the only noise within the chamber was the sound of their rapid breathing and their moans of delight.

“You cannot make me forget what you have told me by wielding your manroot so skillfully,” Vilia told him when they had finished indulging their passions.

Jonah stood, pulling Vilia up. Sitting down in a large chair by the hearth he drew her into his lap. “I don’t want you to forget, my darling,” he said. “But the time has not yet come for us to act. Gaius Prospero and his little empress-to-be will not rule Hetar for very long, Vilia. But we do not yet have the wealth we must to buy the allies who will help us successfully achieve this coup.”

“I want him dead!” Vilia said. “And his pretty plaything, as well.”

“Be patient, my darling.” Jonah soothed the angry woman. “If we act too quickly the magnates will choose one from among them to rule or worse, go back to the republic with its High Council. There is no other man in Hetar besides me who can rule and there is no other woman who should grace the empress’s throne but you, my darling Vilia. But we must proceed slowly. First, you must agree to the divorce that the emperor desires. Then you will negotiate under my guidance for an equitable settlement.”

“And what is equitable?” Vilia wanted to know. Her anger was easing and suddenly the idea of ridding herself of Gaius Prospero was very appealing.

“Half of his wealth,” Jonah said, smiling at her gasp of astonishment.

“He’ll never agree!”

“He will agree, for his need to marry this girl and make her his empress will override everything else for him. I will see to it. The emperor believes himself secure and safe upon his throne. But once his wealth is halved he will be weakened.”

“Gaius’s one great talent,” Vilia said, “is his ability to gain profit. He will rebuild his wealth quickly.”

“Not quickly enough,” Jonah replied. “I have amassed a small fortune during my years of service to Gaius Prospero, and you have also amassed a small fortune of your own. Our combined assets added to the settlement Gaius Prospero will fix on you will make us more powerful than the emperor. And that is when we will act to seize his throne. After all, the throne is part of his wealth and he has stolen it from you in order to put another in your place.”

“How do you know I have amassed a small fortune?” Vilia asked him.

He smiled. “I know everything about the emperor and his family, my darling. I would not have survived this long did I not. You possess almost five million gold cubits along with considerable land holdings.”

She nodded in acknowledgement of his words and then said, “And what do you possess, Jonah?”

“More. Much more,” he said and the corners of his mouth turned up just faintly in reply to her question.

“How much more?” she demanded.