40 Olabar Palace

By Soldan-Shah Omra's command, the First Wives of all five soldans arrived in Olabar, one by one. Some brought showy retinues of assistants, handmaidens, hairdressers, and clothiers; by contrast, Sharique from Yuarej soldanate came alone, meek and deferential. Aini, the squarish and brusque wife of Soldan Xivir from Missinia, wore ill-fitting riding clothes and had brought only a small satchel of necessary items on the caravan north; Soldan Vishkar sent his wife Hakri, mother of the original Istar; sharp-tongued Kuari came from Inner Wahilir, relieved to be away from Soldan Huttan; Tesha, the young wife of the Abilan soldan, had never been outside of Kiesh and now looked frightened by the size of Olabar.

Kel Rovic met each woman and took her to separate quarters, keeping them isolated; guards stood at the doorways, blocking them from palace activities. A few of the First Wives were sensible enough to be nervous, fearing Omra's temper; others remained oblivious to their peril.

On the night before he intended to meet with the five women, Omra dined with both Istar and Naori. The fact that his two wives got along so well amazed the former soldan-shah, since Imir's various wives had caused him nothing but heartache or confusion. But sweet Naori was warmhearted and utterly unambitious, and Istar found no reason to dislike the mother of the soldan-shah's two heirs.

The two women sat opposite Omra, daintily eating with their fingers. Istar remained on edge, worried about what he intended to do to the First Wives. “Our daughter Istala has expressed her desire for a pilgrimage to Fashia's Fountain. If I and the other girls accompany her, we will be gone for perhaps two weeks. That might be a good time for cooling off—”

Omra's mood grew edgier. “You and our daughters will go to Fashia's Fountain, but we will decide this matter first. Although an insult to you is enough to provoke my wrath, the emissary's behavior points out a fundamental flaw in the way our government functions. In times of peace, lax rules were not a fatal weakness, but now I will not tolerate it. All five soldans must hear me, loud and clear, and their First Wives provide the best way for me to send the message.”

Naori nibbled on a piece of golden-brown bread. “Why not just have Istar help me raise your two sons, my Lord? They'd benefit from two mothers, and it would keep her away from those who resent her presence in court. Wouldn't that ease tensions?”

Omra smiled at the young woman's earnestness. “Sweet Naori, if only everyone were as kind as you! Of course my sons would benefit from Istar's experience and attention, but that is not the point. I am the point. And I have made my decision. Those I choose to trust are not dictated by mere soldans or their emissaries.”

“Or the sikaras,” Istar muttered.

Omra raised a scolding finger. “One problem at a time. Tomorrow morning, I meet with the First Wives and the current emissaries of the five soldanates. Naori, remain with the children, but I want Istar at my side, so that all can hear my pronouncement.”

The five anxious women were escorted into Omra's audience chamber precisely at sunrise, as the soldan-shah had ordered. Though they arrived on time, looking to each other and to the flustered official emissaries for answers, they saw only an empty room.

An hour later, Omra and his First Wife arrived casually, making no apologies to those who had been made to stand for the entire time. As he and Istar took their places on the cushionstrewn dais, a servant entered with a tray of steaming coffee. Istar poured a cup for Omra, then one for herself. She sat beside him and waited. They both drank.

Omra scanned the audience, and the five women regarded him, some confused, some frightened, others merely curious. He noted that those who looked the most nervous were the ones who had done nothing to offend him at all. Kuari, the wife of Soldan Huttan, was well aware of what her husband had done, yet she seemed resigned to whatever fate awaited her.

Crowding the large room stood attendants, handmaidens, and functionaries, as well as Omra's own representatives and ministers, all of whom waited to see what he would do. The five primary emissaries—including the oblivious Ualfor from Inner Missinia—wore their finest garments, looking official and important.

Omra enjoyed his small cup of coffee, directing his cold hard gaze at each First Wife in turn. They remained quiet and tense, afraid to speak until he had stated his purpose. Next to him, Istar looked particularly pale.

Finally, Omra set his empty cup aside and rose to his feet. He stretched out his hand to raise Istar up beside him. Her face was drawn, and she squeezed his hand, imparting a silent message, begging him to show restraint and mercy. Omra remained stony and intimidating. When he spoke, his words were quiet, and all the more powerful because his tone contained no threat whatsoever. “Why do you not bow before your soldan-shah?”

Like marionettes with their strings severed, the five women fell to their knees on the floor, along with everyone else in the chamber.

While they prostrated themselves on the driftwood tiles, he said, “I rule all five soldanates of Uraba. I am a direct descendant of Urec himself. And this is my First Wife, Istar.” He raised her hand. “I chose her to be my wife, and when I am not in the palace, she speaks in my stead. She is my eyes, my ears, and my voice in Olabar, and I expect my people—my soldans and their representatives—to treat her with the deference they would show me.”

Now his voice became the snap of a whip. “But this has not happened!”

The entire audience remained kneeling, heads bowed. At last, he saw that every one of them understood just how serious he was. “I will not tolerate it. Every single ambassador and every emissary currently assigned by the five soldans is hereby relieved of duty. Their work is unsatisfactory to me. I will appoint new ambassadors to speak in their stead.”

Gasps rippled through those present, though they remained bowed and fearful. The First Wives glanced sidelong at one another, afraid to look up. The dismissed emissaries stared, speechless.

“As of today—Sharique of Yuarej, Kuari of Inner Wahilir, Hakri of Outer Wahilir, Tesha of Abilan, and Aini of Missinia—I appoint you five to be my new representatives. You, the First Wives of my soldans, will carry messages to and from your husbands. The other emissaries are no longer required.”

Istar smiled with relief. Sharique squatted back on her heels, her smile bright with gratitude. Kuari wore a satisfied grin, her eyes gleaming as though she already imagined how her husband would react to this new turn of events. The other three women jerked up in shocked disbelief.

“You will all sign oaths of loyalty that bind you and your husbands to me. The five soldans must understand that your lives are forfeit, should you ever offend me in the way the previous ambassadors did. I will require formal acknowledgment and an oath from each of them in return.”

The women, unable to believe what they had heard, whispered to each other. The original emissaries did not look pleased.

Istar stood like a confident queen at his side. “The soldan-shah is exceedingly wise. I find these new emissaries to be most acceptable, my husband. I trust that they will not let politics interfere with their common sense.”

Omra said, “You may all rise.” The five women sprang to their feet, and the stunned audience also rose, not sure what to say to one another. The soldan-shah was certain that his message had gotten across.

Istar gave him a grateful smile. “That was a solution even Urec would have been proud of.”

“The unruly soldans have been sufficiently chastised. Now you may make arrangements to take our daughters to Fashia's Fountain, and I can return to Ishalem, where I have important work to do. I am taking a shipment of Nunghal firepowder there to begin a very large new project.”

Istar looked concerned, then forced herself to ask, “You will use the explosive against the Aidenists if they attack the wall again?”

“If necessary… but I have another purpose in mind.”