The Tower of Fear (7 page)

“That’s absurd,” Naszif said.

“How do you know?”

Aaron had not repeated bel-Sidek’s assurances for Laella, though she, like everyone in the neighborhood, suspected that the cripple was connected with the Living and might even be important. She did not need more ammunition to be cast into the volleys of gossip flying around the neighborhood.

“I just know,” Naszif said, and there was a smugness to his declaration that set Aaron’s teeth on edge, that hurled a moral dilemma into his face like a bucket of lava.

Naszif among the Living? Naszif, who might have been a tool of Herod once before …

Suddenly, like lightning’s strike, there were a thousand questions to be debated between himself and the ceiling beams. It was going to be a long and sleepless night.

His abrupt withdrawal excited no interest. Naszif was preoccupied.

Laella did look at him oddly, though. She would have questions. Whether to answer would be the first decision. If so, then he would have to decide how much he dared reveal …

*   *   *

Zouki managed to cry himself into a shallow, fitful, whimpering sleep, interrupted often by the outbreak of nightmare from one of the other children in the cage.

*   *   *

Azel strode into Muma’s Place with no thoughts beyond getting a decent meal and a hot bath, not necessarily in that order. The bath was overdue. Then a long sleep. Tomorrow was soon enough to decide what he’d do with the week or so he would let the Witch stew.

Ride up to the Elephant Rocks country and do some hunting? Too much like work. Maybe to al-Quarda territory to fish in the sinkholes there. Whatever, wherever, someplace alone. He needed to get away from people and all the chains of duty, honor, loyalty, with which they tried to bind him, trying to jerk him this way and that. He needed to go somewhere where every step was not a step on a tightrope.

He picked a table out of the way. It was late enough for the place to be quiet and offer him a choice of seating.

Maybe he ought to let her roast for two weeks. Or even a month. She needed dead time to make her think, time to understand that she was not letting reason be her guide.

Azel grew wary the instant he spotted Muma. Muma no longer waited tables. Muma no longer stayed awake till this unholy hour. He glanced around carefully, looking for that odd late patron who took special notice of Muma’s remarkable behavior.

Anyone paying special attention did so with superbly feigned indifference.

Muma came to Azel’s table.

“Muma.”

“Azel.” The proprietor invited himself to sit.

“You’re up late.”

“Got dragged out of a warm bed.”

“I never have liked dropping in here late and finding you up. It’s like coming home and finding vultures perched on the roof trees. You know the news ain’t going to be good.”

“Uhm.”

“What is it this time?”

“What would it be? A message.” Palm flat on the table, Muma pushed something across. “You know the sign.”

That was not a question.

“Yeah. How old is it?”

“Half an hour, tops. Not stinking yet at all.”

“Hmph! Time to get some food down, then.”

“You know the sign.”

“I got to take time to read the damned thing, don’t I?”

“I suppose. What do you want?”

“Something portable. This is bound to tell me to go somewhere and do something two hours before it was written.”

“Be right back with something.” Muma hoisted himself up and waddled away.

Azel read the message.

Come to me as soon as you receive this.

There was no signature.

Elegantly simple. Nothing there to tell Herodian or Dartar a thing. Even the sign on the outside, a crudely drawn palm sparrow, had no obvious or suspect meaning or symbolism. If it fell into enemy hands it was unlikely to excite any interest, unless by circumstance.

Muma came back with a loaf and a lump of a vigorous goat’s-milk cheese. Azel muttered, “It must be my day for gourmet dining.”

“You’re going out?”

“Of course. What else? Are your sons awake? I don’t see any trouble around, but it’s the kind you don’t see that catches you up.”

“They’re awake. I told them. They’ll cover you.” Meaning anyone who tried to follow him would be in for some major distress.

Azel stood, handed a coin across, collected his provender. “Later, Muma.”

“Good luck.”

“With him I may need it.”

The night had grown cool and clammy. Dew had started to form. Down nearer the harbor it would be getting foggy. The air was still as death. His heels sent echoes frolicking through the night. He did not sense anyone following him. He saw no sign of Muma’s sons. But they were good. They would not be seen, unless by a watcher a moment before the risks of his trade caught up.

Nevertheless, Azel took his usual detour through the Shu maze, where the only way a follower could stay on him would be by sorcery. He knew the maze well enough to walk it eyes closed at midnight.

In places it was just as dark at noon.

He left the maze for Char Street through the same alleyway he had used that afternoon. Fog had gotten that far up the hill already. He turned right.

And three steps later nearly collided with a man and woman coming downhill. He muttered an apology as, startled, they dodged around him. His own damned fault, walking on cat feet, listening for footsteps behind him and paying no attention at all to the path ahead. He followed their hasty footsteps and urgent, whispered reassurances without turning his head. He let his heels fall like those of an honest man so they would know he hadn’t doubled back on them.

He walked a hundred yards past his destination, then crossed Char Street and returned downhill on quiet feet. A hundred yards below his destination he crossed again and walked uphill. There was no sign of the couple he had startled. Nor were there any of the watchers against whom his maneuver was directed. He had not expected any, but when you had an al-Akla and a Cado finagling on the occupier’s side you took precautions.

He glided to the door and inside with serpentine grace.

*   *   *

Salom Edgit had not gone home after leaving the General, though his lieutenants were there awaiting his report. Instead, he had gone a half mile out of his way, to an upthrust of rock called the Parrot’s Beak by most but remembered as the Kraken’s Beak by a few of the old folks. It was supposed to be haunted by the shades of eight brothers who had been murdered there in the year of the city’s founding.

Salom had been fleeing to the Parrot’s Beak for time out to think for as long as he could remember. If ghosts there were, they accepted him. He’d never been discommoded by a supernatural intervention.

He perched on the tip of the Beak and without focusing on anything, stared out at what could be seen of Qushmarrah by starlight. A tide of mist was rising from the harbor.

He spent an hour there, then went off down into the Hahr.

Salom hammered till Ortbal’s man opened up. “Yes, Khadifa?”

“I need to see Ortbal.”

“His Lordship is sleeping, sir.”

“
His Lordship?
You go tell Ortbal to get his fat royal butt up before … Never mind. I’ll tell him myself. His Lordship. Aram have mercy on fools.” He pushed past the protesting batman, stamped through the house. It had several storeys but Ortbal, being lazy, seldom left the ground floor. He noted that the house, like Ortbal himself, had begun to take on airs. He kicked open Sagdet’s bedroom door.

There was light aplenty inside. Ortbal was at his pleasures.

“You! Out!” Salom snapped at the woman.

She fled like a whipped dog.

Ortbal reddened, but he restrained his anger. Salom Edgit was not the kind of man who busted in on people. And he was mad as hell. You were careful with Salom when his temper was up. He was unpredictable. Dangerous. Ortbal Sagdet was not the sort to put himself at risk. “You’re upset, Salom.”

“Damned right, I’m upset. Look at you!… Yes. I’m upset. I’m overreacting. I know it and I can’t stop.”

“Rough meeting?” The slightest concern edged Sagdet’s voice.

“You should have been there.”

“I was making a statement by staying away.”

“Your statement was heard, understood, and dismissed as trivial. That wasn’t a blind, senile, dying old man, Ortbal. That was the General and he was in charge every second. He did the talking. Not a word got spoken that he didn’t ask for. He didn’t ask, he didn’t argue, he just told. And he knew about everything that’s been going on.”

“King.”

“No. More than King.”

“You’d better give me the details.” Sagdet’s concern was plain now.

Salom told it. Sagdet interjected questions as he progressed.

“No reprisals at all?”

“Those were his orders.”

“My people are going to be real irritated about that.”

“I don’t think he cares, Ortbal. You know that? I don’t think he’s concerned about your…”

“Stuff the moralizing and get on with it.” And a minute later, “Did he say how I’m supposed to raise operating funds?”

“If the old man was here he’d just look at this bordello and tell you
he
lives where he lives.”

“He would. The old bastard expects us all to live like vermin.”

And later, Sagdet exploded with incredulity. “He said I’d be there tomorrow night?”

“He did. And you’d better show. You miscalculated your time and started your break too early. You’d better back off. Let time finish its work.”

“Time, huh?”

Ortbal asked several questions. Then, “What did he hit
you
with, old friend?”

“He told me I had to decide if I was a thief or a soldier.”

“And you’ve made up your mind, haven’t you? You still buy this foolishness called the Living. After six years of Herodian occupation you still think that crazy old man can do what armies couldn’t.”

“That isn’t the question, Ortbal. I don’t know if he can do it or not. Probably not. That doesn’t matter. He told me to decide if I’m a thief or a soldier. I’m not a thief. I came here because I owe you the debts of friendship. I had to caution you. I’ve acquitted my obligation.”

“Probably expected you to run straight here, too. Twisted your tail just so and here you came.”

“Maybe.”

“So we come to a parting of roads. If I don’t show up tomorrow night. What will he do if I don’t show?”

“I don’t know.”

“What
can
he do?”

“You take that attitude you might find out. He for sure won’t sit still.”

“So I’d better do some thinking.”

“Will you be there?”

“You’ll find that out when you walk in the door, Salom.” Sagdet smiled. That only made his pudgy face look malicious.

Edgit knew he had no intention of showing.

*   *   *

Azel paused to lengthen the wick in the little lamp inside the door. A voice croaked, “I’m in bed.”

Azel stepped into the bedroom. The old man looked terrible. He set the lamp down. “You were waiting? You were that confident I would get your message right away?”

“No. I sleep a lot but I’m a very light sleeper. You woke me when you opened the door.”

Azel felt he had not made enough noise to disturb a mouse. “I’ll have to lighten my step.”

“I have very good ears. Was that you with the boy in the alley today?”

“It was. It was a close thing.”

“The Dartars were so interested Fa’tad himself came out to poke around.”

Azel was astonished. “Really?”

“Yes. You be careful. That man has a nose better than my ears. Lay off for a while. You don’t have to round up the whole population overnight.”

“Tell it to the Witch. I tried. She’s got a thirty-brat backlog and it takes three days to make sure each one isn’t the one she’s looking for. But she won’t slow down. She’s gotten obsessed with the idea that she’s got to get all the kids rounded up before any of them kick off. Like she’s sure that if even one of them croaks that’ll be the one she wants and she’ll have to do the whole damned thing over again.”

“Behind another five- or six-year wait. I can understand her anxiety. I share it. I won’t live that long and I’d like to see results before I go. But not negative results, which is what we’ll get if Cado or Fa’tad catches on. Fa’tad’s behavior today indicates that caution is necessary. Would it do any good if I were to admonish her myself?”

“No. Her deal with us is a marriage of convenience. She’s only interested in getting what she wants.”

“Any suggestions?”

Azel answered with an uncharacteristic shrug. “I walked out. For the time being. That’ll slow her down.”

“But she has other help.”

“Yeah. Two other guys.”

“Are they any good? Who are they?”

“They’re good. Not as good as me, but good. One is named Sadat Agmed. He’s in it for the money. The other is Ishabal bel-Shaduk.”

“Comes of religious stock, no doubt.”

“Very. He’s the fanatic.”

“The other sounds Dartar.”

“His father was. He hates them.”

“Could you persuade them to lay off for a while, too?”

“I doubt it. I’m not supposed to know who they are.”

“I’ll think about the problem. Anything else? Anything from Cado’s direction?”

“He’s expecting a new civil governor any day now.”

The General smiled. A rare event. “That would be what? The eighth since the conquest?”

“Ninth. They just send people they’d rather not have around but don’t dare kill in Herod.”

“And the Living take the blame.”

“Or harvest the credit. Was there some reason you sent for me?”

“The problem in the Hahr has become critical. As I feared. Quick action now appears to be the only long-term solution.”

“Ah?”

“This is a difficult thing.”

“Is it? How soon do you need it?”

“Sunset tomorrow at the latest. But the sooner the better.”

“That’s tight.”

“It will become difficult after that time. I thought you were going to scout the terrain should action become necessary.”

“I did.”

“Can you manage?”

“If I must.”

“You must. Will you need help?”