They laid the gifts at His Majesty’s feet.
“Her Highness the Queen of Nubia!”
The Queen of Nubia, her skin and hair and eyes the color of ebony, was the most beautiful woman Marie-Josèphe had ever seen. A million tiny beads of gold and lapis lazuli formed her headdress, clinking together in soft music. Her pleated linen robe was fine and sheer as silk, translucent, outlining and revealing her body. Only her wide gold necklace and girdle preserved her modesty, covering her breasts and her sex. She entered the throne room reclining on a litter carried by eight large dark men, followed by four young women, almost as beautiful as she, waving fans. Four more of her attendants led her gift into the throne room. The courtiers murmured in surprise, for they had never known horses to climb the stairs of the chateau, nor ever seen such strange striped horses as these, harnessed four abreast to a hunting chariot. Scenes of oryx and cheetah glowed in the colors of precious stones on its golden sides. Handsful of carnelian, turquoise, and lapis had been crushed to give the colors their unearthly intensities.
Snarls reverberated through the room. Marie-Josèphe caught her breath, certain that Sherzad had shrieked so loudly everyone could hear her. Then the courtiers near the door gasped and shouted and surged backwards.
Six cheetahs stalked across the floor, their claws clicking and scratching on the parquet, their spotted gold coats more striking than any metal. Each wore a collar paved with a different precious stone, fastened to two leashes, for two huntsmen held each beast.
Everyone drew back except Madame, and by necessity Marie-Josèphe and Lotte, for Madame was fascinated by the creatures.
“Your prowess at the hunt is renowned,” the Queen said. “I bring you a hunting chariot and the greatest chasers in the world, cheetahs from the plains of my homeland.”
“Your gift is as extraordinary as your beauty, great queen,” His Majesty said.
The treaty ceremony began.
Marie-Josèphe glanced down. Count Lucien slipped into place beside her.
“The ship has sailed,” he said softly. “Do not hope too much.”
“I have no other choice but hope,” Marie-Josèphe said. Under cover of the reading of the treaty between Louis and Innocent, a long drone of Latin, she whispered, “Count Lucien, why did you come to my defense? To Sherzad’s defense?”
“You have the truth of the matter. Butchering a sea monster cannot benefit His Majesty. Ransoming a sea woman can.”
“Is that your only reason?”
Without replying, Lucien turned away to watch his sovereign resign some of his authority to the Church of Rome.
Marie-Josèphe rode Zachi along the path beside the Green Carpet. Visitors picnicked on the grass. His Majesty’s courtiers had deserted the gardens to prepare themselves for Carrousel. Hidden quartets filled the air with music. The pumps shrieked and groaned, a background to the cheerful tunes, to the rain of the fountains.
A heavy wagon rumbled into the music and the beauty and stopped beside the Fountain of Apollo. A half-dozen men jumped out, carrying staffs. The chevalier de Lorraine dismounted from his tall horse and led the way into the tent.
Marie-Josèphe urged Zachi into a run. At the tent, she dropped her drawing box, scrambled down, and left Zachi standing.
“Sir! Stop! In His Majesty’s name!”
Lorraine turned back from Yves’ laboratory. “Where is the key to the cage, if you please, Mlle de la Croix?”
“It isn’t time! It’s only noon! His Majesty promised—!”
“Calm yourself. His Majesty orders the sea monster to perform for his guests.” He rattled the bars of the cage. “Leap, sea monster!”
“No!”
Sherzad leaped high, splashing down dangerously close to the edge of the fountain.
“She can’t leap properly—there isn’t room—as you see, you needn’t prod her!” She stood between the men and the cage, trying to think of a protest that would stop them.
“His Majesty commands her to perform her acrobatics in the Grand Canal.”
Though Sherzad would welcome the change, Marie-Josèphe could not quiet her suspicions. “Why do you supervise the change, instead of Count Lucien?”
“Perhaps M. de Chrétien has more important duties—or perhaps he’s lost His Majesty’s favor.”
“Why did His Majesty—why didn’t you call for me to explain to Sherzad?” She gestured toward the armed men. “You didn’t need—”
“I suggested it, of course,” Lorraine said. “As a gift for you—I never called for you because you flee on the fastest horse in the kingdom when I try to speak to you.”
“I have good reason!”
“Shall I tell His Majesty that his sea monster refuses his commands?”
“No,” Marie-Josèphe said. “But put away the staves. If you don’t frighten her, she might agree to lie quiet in the sling.”
She unlocked the cage and ran to Sherzad, who hovered nervously, whistling and humming questions. Marie-Josèphe explained what would happen.
The men lowered the sling into the water. Sherzad circled it nervously, fearfully. She still carried on her body the marks of the net that had captured her.
“Please trust me, dear Sherzad,” Marie-Josèphe said. “The Grand Canal is so much bigger—so much cleaner!”
Sherzad touched the sling. As she hesitantly swam into it, Marie-Josèphe thought, She trusts me—but by what measure should I trust M. de Lorraine? This may be a ploy to take her to M. Boursin.
But if they wished to kill her, they could spear her or shoot her as she swam.
Marie-Josèphe had no choice. She urged Sherzad into the sling. Otherwise the men would beat her and net her.
Her heart pounding with trepidation, Marie-Josèphe walked beside Sherzad, holding her hand. Unrestrained, Sherzad fidgeted and sang in anticipation. If Lorraine betrayed her, nothing would stop her from defending herself.
M. Boursin ran, ungainly, down the Green Carpet.
“Oh, excellent, excellent,” he cried. “May I butcher it now? Follow me, quickly—”
“No!” Marie-Josèphe cried. “She has until midnight!” She turned on Lorraine in a fury. Sherzad screamed. Her claws ripped the sling with a high harsh tear. “You lied—”
“I didn’t, calm yourself, mademoiselle!” Lorraine stopped Boursin with a gesture. “Stand back, sir.”
“Be easy, Sherzad, everything will be all right.” The sea woman calmed to a tremble beneath Marie-Josèphe’s hands. Marie-Josèphe reproached herself for her suspicion.
Boursin followed frantically. “You’re going to loose it? What possesses you?”
“It’s the King’s wish,” Marie-Josèphe said. “He’s promised Sherzad her life—find something else to cook!”
“His Majesty promised me a thousand louis!” M. Boursin said. “If my presentation surpasses Charlemagne’s banquet.”
“Sherzad promised him more—for her freedom.”
“Perhaps His Majesty wants both,” M. Boursin said. “Treasure and meat!”
Frightened by Sherzad’s agitation, the workmen hurried the short distance to the Grand Canal and lowered the ruined sling to its bank. Sherzad cried out and struggled and splashed gracelessly into the water.
“It will run itself down,” Boursin said. “It will be lean and stringy—if the banquet isn’t perfect, I’ll kill myself!”
“Leap, sea monster!” Lorraine shouted.
Sherzad flicked her tails, splashing water over Lorraine’s polished boots. She dove and disappeared.
“It had better not bruise its flesh,” Boursin said.
“Go away,” Lorraine said to Boursin. “It may bruise itself all it wants, but it had better not climb out.”
“She has nowhere to go,” Marie-Josèphe said. “She cannot walk, she can only swim.”