One Thousand Nights (10 page)

The three men bowed as I approached, and I gravely bowed in return. Custom satisfied, Besh said, “Some of the men are setting up the telescope and other instruments now. It is just a little beyond the encampment — come, let me show you.”

He took my hand and led me forth, guiding me across the sandy ground, Nezhaam and Alim a pace or two behind us. Nezhaam yawned several times, and I wondered if he was regretting the wine he had drunk with dinner. Most likely not; he did not seem like the type of man to regret much of anything that brought him pleasure.

We did not go far, most likely less than a hundred yards. But it put enough distance between us and the camp that even the light from those sparsely scattered lanterns could not be seen. The night remained moonless, the stars glimmering uncontested in the black velvet of the sky.

The telescope Besh had brought on the expedition was far smaller than the one kept permanently in the observatory, but it was still large enough to require a sturdy stand, one that had been placed on a slight rise, along with a sextant and a small table set up with a book where I presumed Besh and Alim would make their notations.

As we approached, the men who had been making adjustments to the telescope’s stand bowed and backed away. Alim went at once to the sextant, moved it slightly, squinted up at the sky, and then shifted it a bare fraction of an inch. Nezhaam stayed back, scratching his head and yawning, and I guessed that I would not have to worry overmuch about him wanting to share the telescope.

I followed Besh up the rise where the instrument had been placed. We stopped a foot or so away from it, and he let go of my hand now that we were on more or less stable ground. “Look up,” he said quietly.

At first I had wondered why we did not go to the telescope immediately. As I followed his direction and tilted my face upward so I could observe the vast, starry sky above us, I realized why he wanted me to look upon it with the naked eye. The telescope was a marvelous thing, to be sure, but it narrowed one’s line of sight, removed some of the context of what one was viewing. Standing here, with the unending sweep of the desert all around us and the immense expanse of the dark skies above, I felt as if I were floating somewhere between heaven and earth, suspended in a single point of eternity.

“There,” he went on, pointing almost directly overhead. “Do you see them?”

I did, for they were almost impossible to miss — four bright stars making an almost perfect square. “How can they do that?”

The starlight was so bright that I could see his teeth flash as he smiled. “Everything in the heavens is constantly moving. It just happens that at this particular instant in time, those worlds have lined up in such a way that it appears to us, from where we are standing, that they are creating the grand square. If we were somewhere else — say, observing them from the surface of Balasir — then they would appear in a very different configuration.”

He stood very close to me, and I wished then that we were alone, that we were the only two people in a thousand miles. Perhaps then I would have had the courage to reach out to him, to pull him against me. As it was, with Alim only a few feet away, and Nezhaam standing just a little farther off, I of course would never attempt such a thing.

I did not quite trust myself to speak, but merely nodded.

“They are moving into final alignment,” Alim said, glancing up from the sextant.

“No time to waste, then,” Besh replied, and gestured for me to move closer to the telescope. “Let me look first, to make sure it is properly centered. Then you will be able to see for yourself.”

Murmuring, “of course, my lord,” I watched as he peered through the eyepiece, made a minute adjustment, then looked into it once again.

“Magnificent.”

Yes, you are,
I thought, watching the starlight fall on his gleaming black hair, illuminating the fine, strong nose and beautifully sculpted mouth and jaw. But somehow I doubted that was what he meant.

“Come, Lyarris,” he said. “They have made their conjunction.”

He stepped away from the telescope so I might approach. By then I had grown accustomed enough to using the instrument that it felt natural to look through the eyepiece, then pause as my vision adjusted to the view I was seeing.

Once they were magnified thus, I could see that each of the tiny worlds forming the square was slightly different in hue. They glowed in shades of red and yellow and orange and soft, milky blue. How strange, for when seen with the naked eye, they all appeared a cool, serene white. And they looked close enough for me to reach out and touch, although I knew they had to be uncounted leagues away.

I could have stood there and gazed upon them for hours, but I knew it would not be fair to Besh to monopolize the telescope when he had traveled so far to witness this wonder. So I stepped aside, saying, “They are beautiful.”

His gaze lingered on my face. “Yes….” he replied, then appeared to gather himself and turned to the telescope.

Once again the wish passed through my thoughts that we could be alone here. Perhaps if it were only the two of us, he would leave aside the telescope for a moment, then gather me in his arms. But no, that was merely a foolish fancy. He had been solicitous, yes, but I had seen no true desire in his eyes. Having observed it in Thani, I thought I must surely recognize it in Besh.

Give it time,
I told myself, and tilted my head to gaze up at the heavens once more. The stars shone down, cool and tranquil. They had many thousands of years to trace their separate paths, and I did not. Still, I had been Besh’s wife for barely a fortnight. I could not expect everything to happen as I willed it, simply because I was impatient. And somehow I knew if he sensed that impatience, he would only become that much more distant.

He did step away from the telescope, but only to write down some notations in the book set out for that purpose. As I watched, Nezhaam approached me and murmured, “So you really do humor him in this obsession of his.”

I lifted my brows, replying in an equally subdued tone, “I would not call it ‘humoring’ him, as I find all of it quite fascinating. My only regret is that I did not begin to learn of the stars and the planets and the science ruling them until I came here to Keshiaar.”

“Then God is very great, for not only has he sent my friend the most beautiful princess in the world, but one as scholarly and bookish as he. Truly you will have great joy in each other.”

“Are you teasing me, my lord?”

He made the familiar gesture of pressing his hand to his chest in mock dismay. “I am offended, Your Majesty, that you would think me anything but sincere.”

I couldn’t help chuckling at that remark, delivered in wounded tones as it was, and Besh looked up from the telescope to glance over at us.

“Nezhaam, stop provoking her.”

“How do you know it wasn’t the other way around?”

“Because I know you.” Having delivered his statement, Besh bent toward the telescope once again.

Not bothering to defend himself, Nezhaam grinned. “It is true. It is very hard to hide things from someone who has known you since you were born.”

“Were you raised in the palace?” I asked, for I thought now, while Besh was occupied with taking his observations, might be a good time to pry some information out of his long-time friend.

“No. We are cousins, but then, almost every prince in this land is his cousin in some fashion or another. But my house is in the Tanamir District, very close to the palace, and since our fathers were great good friends, I spent much time there, and the Hierarch and I became friends as well, even though his — ” Nezhaam broke off abruptly then, as if suddenly realizing he was about to divulge more information than he had intended. A small pause, and he added, “At any rate, we have been around each other most of our lives, although there was a span where he wanted very little to do with someone two years younger. Luckily, he realized how foolish that was.”

“Of course,” I agreed with a smile, even as I wished he had not stopped himself so quickly. Somehow I thought that whatever Nezhaam had almost revealed would help to cast some light on why Besh was so very reserved. He had been wounded, that much I knew. Even so, I felt there was more, some secret everyone was taking considerable pains to keep from me. Perhaps it should not have bothered me so, as I knew every court had its secrets. But there were secrets and secrets….

Nezhaam had seemed to watch me as I looked on my husband. Perhaps my thoughts were more obvious than I had intended, for the prince said, “I do not think you need to trouble yourself, my lady. I know that he would never have asked you to come along on this expedition if he did not take joy in your company. That you share his enthusiasm for these things is surely a gift he could never have imagined receiving.”

“Thank you, Nezhaam,” I replied quietly, hoping he could hear the gratitude in my voice. If Besh’s oldest friend saw the matter thus, then surely I must accept his insights. After all, he knew his cousin far better than I did.

He bowed. “You are most welcome, my lady.” A yawn seemed to split his face then, and he gave a rueful shake of the head. “While I understand the need to be up at such unholy hours for these sorts of things, I cannot help but think it can’t be all that healthy.” Turning away from me, he raised his voice slightly and called out, “Ay, there, Besh! How much more fiddling are you going to be doing with that thing?”

Besh did not reply at once, but remained bent over the telescope. After a few seconds passed, he gathered up his pen and made a few more notations. Only then did he straighten, one hand going to the small of his back, as if he were at last feeling some discomfort from the awkward position. “Not very much. The planets are beginning to move apart again. But I think it will be at least another quarter-hour.”

That answer did not seem to please Nezhaam, for he shook his head. “If that is the case, then I believe I will retire for what is left of the evening.”

“If that is what you wish.” Besh glanced over at me. “Would you like Nezhaam to walk you back to your pavilion, my lady?”

That was the last thing I wanted. No, I wished to stay here with my husband until he finished making his notations, for then he would be the one escorting me to my tent. I did not have any great expectation of the evening ending differently from any other evening I had spent with him. On the other hand, nothing would most certainly happen if I did not at least give him the opportunity.

“No, my lord,” I said. “The stars are so beautiful, I would like to stay out a little longer.”

“Mad, the both of you,” Nezhaam remarked. His dark eyes had a certain glint that told me he had guessed at my true reasons for wanting to remain where I was, but he only added, “I will retire then, and if you wish to stay up until the sunrise, I suppose that is your choice. A very good night, my lady” — he bowed to me — “and to you, my lord.”

Besh made a waving motion with his free hand, but that was his only reply, as he was occupied with making another adjustment to the telescope. Apparently not offended in the slightest, Nezhaam bowed to me once again and made his way back to the encampment.

Truthfully, in that moment I was beginning to feel weary, but I would not allow that to keep me from remaining where I was. And, even without the telescope, the night sky was very beautiful, the stars clustered so thickly across heaven’s zenith that they made a bright band against that velvety darkness.

At long last, though, Besh stepped away from the telescope one final time, made a few more notations in his book, and then glanced over at Alim, who had been working with his sextant and his own notes the entire time. “That seems to be all,” Besh said. “Are you done as well?”

“Almost,” Alim replied. “Please, my lord, do not trouble yourself to wait, if you are finished.”

A nod, and Besh closed his book of notations and shoved it under his left arm, then descended the small rise where the telescope had been placed so he might approach me. Inwardly I rejoiced, for without Alim walking back with us, I thought perhaps there would be a better chance of something —
anything
— happening between Besh and myself.

“I hope the late hour has not wearied you overmuch, my lady,” he said, as we headed toward the encampment. Behind us, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, and realized it was one of the guards stepping forth to pack up the telescope and bring it back to the encampment.

“Not at all.” Not precisely the truth, but a few hours of lost sleep seemed a small price to pay for the wonders I had witnessed. “It was beautiful.”

“And lucky we were to see it, for such a conjunction will not occur again in our lifetimes.”

In that moment, my slipper caught on a rock, and I stumbled. At once Besh’s hand was on my arm, steadying me, and I thought I would never be so happy as to feel those strong fingers at my elbow, the welcome pressure of his touch.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes,” I replied, hoping I did not sound too breathless, and that my expression did not betray me.

His lips parted, as if he were about to say something else, but then the darkness seemed to come alive, and around us was the thunder of horses coming in from the open desert, pounding toward us.

“Guards!” Besh cried as he thrust me behind him, then drew the long dagger he wore in a jeweled scabbard hanging from his belt.

There were shouts from the encampment, and the dull thud of booted feet against hard-packed sand. From seemingly nowhere appeared a rider garbed in black, astride a black horse, and he bore down on us through the darkness. Besh’s dagger flashed in the starlight, and the horse let out a screeching whinny and wheeled off, stumbling as dark blood began to flow down one of its legs.

Arrows whistled overhead, finding their targets with an accuracy I would not have expected, given the black night in which they were launched. Another rider came pounding toward us, and Besh pushed me to the ground, standing over me, shielding me with his body. I did not see how he could possibly be so lucky as to drive off a second horse, armed as he was only with the long dagger with its curved blade. But another arrow sliced through the air, driving clean through the rider’s throat, and he fell, blood splashing over his dark garments.