The Tower of Fear (30 page)

Aaron stopped in the doorway. A Dartar with bare saber stood guard inside. The fallen invaders had been removed. Laella, battered but apparently all right, knelt over her mother, in front of the hearth. Across the room Mish sat against the wall and held Stafa tight against her breast. She sobbed softly.

Laella looked up. Aaron shook his head. Her face turned to stone. She rose, came to examine his injuries. He moved aside so the Dartars could bring Yoseh in. They invited themselves to bring all their injured. Laella did not protest.

She touched his face. He winced, asked, “How is she?”

“I think she’s hurt inside.” There was an edge of hysteria in her voice.

“Take it easy. What about you? How about Stafa and Mish?”

“We’re all right.” She leaned against him. “What did we ever do to those men, Aaron? How could they do that?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to find out.” He pushed her away gently, went to his toolbox, and took out a heavy, bronze-headed maul.

“What are you going to do?”

“Go break bel-Sidek’s other leg, then twist on it till he tells me the truth.” And he actually meant it when he said it, though it sounded absurd a second later.

“Aaron…”

“They’ve got Arif, Laella. Just like they’ve got Zouki. I can’t stand still.”

He started for the doorway. On his way he tapped Yoseh’s two brothers. “Come on.”

*   *   *

Bel-Sidek was completely boggled by the apparition in the doorway. The carpenter looked like he had been beaten half to death. He looked incredibly ferocious with a huge hammer in his hand. “Aaron?”

“I want my son back, bel-Sidek. Your men took him, and killed his grandmother, and if you don’t get him back to me I’m going to see that whatever is left of you when I get done hangs from a Herodian gibbet.”

Bel-Sidek felt the bite of fear. He understood the threat. The carpenter knew or suspected enough to do the movement irreparable harm. “Calm down, Aaron. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have your son.”

“Just like you don’t know anything about Naszif’s son, Zouki, but you can show him to Naszif anytime you want to make him do something.”

What would the General have done in this situation?

The carpenter was getting a little nervous, his crazy anger deserting him. He had not expected to break into a room full of hard-faced men. He did not know what to do next.

He stepped forward, raising the hammer threateningly.

Zenobel, Carza, and Dabdahd responded. Zenobel had murder in his eye. Bel-Sidek said, “Wait.”

A Dartar stepped through the doorway, set the tip of a saber against Zenobel’s throat. Another followed, threatened King and Carza. They backed away carefully.

The first Dartar asked, “Is the old one the man who knows, Aaron?”

“I think so. If not him, one of them.”

Bel-Sidek started. The carpenter had guessed who they were. But he had not betrayed them. Yet. “Aaron, what do you want?”

“You know: I want my son back. And I want you and yours to leave me and mine alone. Forever.”

Or he would tell the Dartars where they could scoop up the whole ruling council of the Living.

A voice from outside said, “Nogah! Troops are coming.”

The Dartar with the saber pushed Zenobel back among the others. He looked bel-Sidek in the eye. “I see your face, old man. And I will remember it.” He raised a hand, removed his face cloth, revealed a gruesomely mutilated visage. “You have till the fog rises this high tomorrow night. Then I come for you.”

He turned, gently urged the carpenter out the door. The other Dartar backed out behind them, closing the door.

“Silence!” bel-Sidek snapped, before they could start. “Do any of you not understand what just happened?”

He got back a babble of outrage.

They did not understand, except for Carza.

“Quiet, please. So you’re not as familiar with Dartar customs as you should be. But none of you ever served with them. When the man removed his face cloth he was doing what Dartars call ‘showing the face of death.’ Essentially he took a vow to hunt us down if the missing child isn’t returned. I remind you that most of the Dartars outside are probably his brothers and cousins. Family will assume the vow as a matter of course. When word gets around, the rest will probably take it on, too. It’s just romantic enough.”

Zenobel made a sound of disgust. He was prejudiced.

Bel-Sidek rose. “I know nothing about child-stealing, by the movement or anyone else. But I suspect some of you might.” He dragged his aching leg toward the door. “I want to be informed if you do. There is a growing public perception of us as responsible, or at least involved, and that could destroy us.” He opened the door a crack.

The tramp-tramp-tramp he’d been hearing was what it sounded like, soldiers marching. “They got here fast.” He noted the dread Colonel Bruda with them and shuddered.

There was too much interest in this part of the Shu.

He saw tendrils of fog just rising into view. It was that early still? It seemed it should be much later.

What a day. What a hellbiter of a day.

How come Bruda had had troops armed and ready to move at a moment’s notice? Had the jaws of doom begun to close?

“The fog is coming,” he said. “The man gave us a chance. As soon as it can cover us we get out of here. Hopefully before those Dartars have an attack of intuition and realize what they missed scooping up. Don’t ever come back here. I’m moving out. I’ll contact you later. Make your own arrangements to disappear, just in case.”

He watched the soldiers. His small hope they would clash with the Dartars died. Tempers flared but never flew out of control.

“I want that boy, gentlemen. He’s somewhere in Qushmarrah and we have the resources to find him. If he’s not in my hands by sundown I’m going to want to know why not. And I’m not likely to be in a very pleasant mood. Do you understand?”

*   *   *

Azel had had a good many years in which to learn to carry on despite pain. He had been injured worse and had managed. But he had been younger then and, to be truthful, better motivated. He was losing his zest for the game. Tonight the sinkhole country looked like a lot more than a pleasant fantasy. It looked like the sanest bet for sliding out of this without getting carved up into little pieces.

But he had a mission. Spying on everybody, playing games with them, that could go to hell. Bruda having him watched proved he had worked those angles for as much as he could. A smart man got out while he was ahead.

He was out. As of now. Let Bruda and Cado stew and fuss because he was not there to be used. They could buy another knife. Always plenty of those around. Let that new General of the Living fume because he did not keep his appointments, because he did not pass along all his secrets.

In five minutes he would disappear from the face of the earth.

But the thing with Nakar still had to be played out.

In these new circumstances he would have to work on that idiot Torgo, who might be the only tool available.

He stayed on the rooftops till he ran out of houses to cross. He came down only when he had to, to cross gaps too wide to leap. His wounds nagged him, the leg the worst. He successfully evaded trouble though the Shu continued full of excitement.

He perched on that last rooftop and watched the acropolis. The kid lay on the tiles beside him, snoring. The precipitation had picked up a little but still could not be called a rain.

Awful lot of activity tonight. Especially around Government House. Looked like a lot of sneakery. A lot more than could be accounted for by the excitement in the Shu. Lot of soldiery slithering around …

Cado was sneaking a bunch of his men down to the waterfront while there was a good chance their movement would not be noticed.

The boy showed no sign of coming around so Azel waited with the patience of a lizard, rubbing his wounded calf. Once a whole parade of soldiers, civilians, and Dartars came out of Char Street and headed for Government House. The seeing was not good enough to be sure but he thought Colonel Bruda was the man in charge.

One more reason to get out of the game
now.

He’d have to get a message to Muma, give him the same option. The man had been the perfect and faithful partner for years. He deserved his shot at getting away clean. He had his arrangements made. All he needed was the warning word.

Azel saw his chance soon after the crowd passed. He got hold of the kid and dropped down … His leg buckled. He almost lost the brat.

He managed to walk only by keeping his leg completely rigid. That made moving through the pattern to unlock the Postern of Fate abnormally difficult but he got it right the first time.

He found Torgo dozing inside, having failed to respond to the alarm or, more likely, having failed to arm the damned spell. “Torgo.”

The eunuch surged up, reached for a blade like an overgrown pirate’s cutlass.

“Easy, boy.”

“Azel. I gave up on you … What happened to you?”

“We got trouble, brother. You want to take this kid? Before I collapse?”

Torgo looked at the boy like he was a poisonous snake.

“Easy now. He’s the one you wanted bel-Shaduk to grab so bad. Ended up he couldn’t, so I finished the job for him.”

The eunuch took the boy almost tenderly, looked at Azel suspiciously. “Why couldn’t Ishabal bring him in? How come you even know anything about it?”

“He didn’t bring the brat in because he’s too dead to walk. Come on. I’ll tell you about it while I’m getting myself patched up.”

Torgo took the child to the cage first.

Azel told the thing exactly as it had happened, from his sighting of Torgo to the moment Bel-Shaduk fled Char Street with the boy. Invention came into play only when he described how Ishabal had been cornered and killed by his pursuers.

He did wish he had been able to finish those two. It wasn’t likely Torgo would run into them, and it probably wouldn’t matter if that part did get unraveled, but any loose end was an artistic flaw.

On the other hand, he was a practical man. He could not take risk just to make sure loose ends got snipped.

“What about the boy you were supposed to deliver to the Living? Something bad happened with him, Azel. She was hurt. I had to hit her … She could be days recovering.”

Azel frowned. What now? “Tell me. Everything.”

Torgo showed his teeth, ready to balk. Then he gave in, obviously at a loss and desperate for direction. He described events minutely.

Azel had watched some of Nakar’s sorcery in the old days. He did not know, but he suspected what had happened. She had encountered a strong soul and had not been prepared. Perhaps even Ala-eh-din Beyh himself.

The eunuch stared at the new brat. The one, if the woman was right. Azel was grim now, thinking how diminished he would be when this one was opened. Time to start wooing Torgo, lest he come up with a crazy idea of his own. “Two days and today turns into yesterday again, eh? That don’t excite me the way it used to, Torgo. The other brat can wait. The Living can make do without. I wouldn’t go back out there now if I could.”

Best to make a thing of his injuries. Never hurt to have them underestimate you. “Too many people out there looking for me now. Hell. If the Living can’t control their traitor for two days they don’t deserve to share the fruits of victory. Do they?”

Torgo grunted. Azel was sure he was thinking about what he would lose in a few days.

Good. Perfect. Feed his obsession. But don’t underestimate him. They’d robbed him of his balls, not his brain.

“I need a big favor, Torgo.”

The eunuch gave him a suspicious look.

“There’s this guy who’s been helping us since the beginning. He don’t know what he’s been doing, of course. But he’s played square all the way. He deserves a break. And he does know a lot somebody would find interesting if they grabbed him and made him talk. I need you to take him a warning from me that it’s time to disappear.”

Torgo frowned. “Why?”

“Crap, man! Because I owe him and I can’t go out there. In another hour I ain’t going to be able to walk. You understand a debt of honor? Hell. I don’t know. Look. You and me, we never got along good. We don’t like each other. We never took no trouble to hide that. But we been working together. Getting the job done. We got the same friends and the same enemies. Despite we don’t like each other we done each other straight. So if it was you out there that needed warning I’d see you got it. If only because I don’t never want nobody else to wring your fat ugly neck before I get my shot.”

The eunuch was not convinced. “Where?”

“Place called Muma’s. Just off the hilltop. Wouldn’t take you twenty minutes.”

Torgo grunted, asked, “Why should I do anything for you?”

“What do you want most in the world, man? Never mind. I think I know already. And I think I know how you could get it. Without no complications. I think I might even tell you about it sometime was you to do me this favor.”

Torgo studied him for half a minute. “All right. What’s the message?”

“I got to write it. He don’t see it in my hand he ain’t going to believe it.” Muma could not read but Torgo did not need to know that. The message would be for his benefit. He’d snoop, sure. The symbol on the outside would be warning enough for Muma.

“I’ll get things to write with.” Torgo slouched out, still suspicious.

This was not going to be an easy seduction.

15

Aaron recognized the man in the doorway because a few years ago he had come to the shipyard regularly, to interview workers, either hunting for a spy or trying to recruit one. Colonel Bruda, General Cado’s chief spy and bully.

His heart went cold.

Bruda looked around at injured family and injured Dartars. He did not seem upset, only mildly perplexed. A harmless little man, going bald. Nogah rose from his brother Yoseh’s side and went to face him. They exchanged words Aaron did not catch.

Mish moved over beside Yoseh, said something softly. Aaron wondered if the kick in the face had impaired his hearing. Stafa came and clung to his leg. He was confused and scared still. Aaron scooped him up and settled him on his hip. He patted the boy’s back gently. Stafa held on like he was afraid he was going to drown.