Desert Song (DeWinter's Song 3) (21 page)

"I do not know about such things. I only know I saw a large gathering of an army and they were going toward the Hakash. I am worried about my family."

"Take your brother to the physician, but make yourself available. I am sure my captain will want to question you."

"I shall be easy to find."

"Pass through," the guard said.

Both men breathed a sigh of relief as they entered the gate. Michael saw charms and dried bones hanging from a pole. "It's to ward off evil spirits, lord," Abu whispered. "The Turks are a suspicious people." He smiled slyly. "Even so, I had no trouble making the guard believe my tale. We can only hope that he is as convincing as I when he tells it to his captain."

"We may not have much time, so we must locate my father as soon as possible. I suggest we separate. If they discover my identity, you will be in danger."

Abu shook his head. "My master told me to stay with you. Your trouble will be my trouble."

Michael was grateful for Abu's loyalty. "Do you know where the tower is located?" he asked.

"I am not familiar with that part of the city, lord. I will make inquiries at the market."

They entered a narrow passageway where carts and stalls lined the walls. There was a strong odor of fly-infested meat and fish. He saw baskets of vegetables, leather goods, and cooking utensils lining the street.

They dismounted, and Abu paid a young boy to look after their horses. He led Michael into a coffee house, where apparently the local men gathered to play backgammon and smoke. They were served coffee, and Michael found it very strong and laced with sugar, but he forced himself to drink it anyway.

They had just been served chicken soaked in heavy oil, when they heard the sound of many horses riding through the street. Someone burst into the coffeehouse, chattering excitedly, and a great commotion started.

Abu smiled innocently and whispered to Michael, "It would seem the jackal took the bait. Those are Sidi's elite guards, and they are leaving the city with him at their head. Apparently, Sidi's most loyal ally, the Hakash, are under attack, and he is on his way to aid them."

Michael laughed. "You are a genius, Abu. It's apparent you were trained by the great Hakeem."

Prince Khaldun and Sheik Hakeem flattened their bodies on the slope of the sand dune, watching Sidi and his men ride past at a fast pace.

"The green-eyed one is clever and the Turk is a fool," Hakeem stated scornfully.

Khaldun glanced over his shoulder toward the enemy stronghold. "I only hope Michael can locate his father and make it safely out of Caldoia before Sidi learns he's been fooled."

"May Allah make it so."

* * *

Michael took a sip of his now-cold coffee. "The sun will be going down in another hour, and then we can leave. It will be easier to move about undetected after dark."

Abu glanced out the window and noticed that several guards were fanning out in different directions, pounding on doorways and questioning the residents. "This could mean trouble for you, lord. They may be inquiring about us."

"We had better see if there is a back way out of here," Michael said, jumping to his feet.

They moved quickly down the stairs, through a smoke-filled kitchen, and out the back door that led them right to four guards.

"Run, lord, I'll hold them off!" Abu cried.

"We stay together," Michael said, drawing his pistol and firing at one of the guards.

By now five others had arrived, and Michael was just going down from a heavy blow to the head, when he saw one of the enemy fire his gun point-blank into Abu's face. There was no doubt faithful Abu's wound was fatal.

"No!" Michael cried as the world went black.

He was unconscious when one of the men ripped the bandage from his head and forced his eyes open. "It is him, Akhdar 'em Akraba. Our master will reward us well."

"Sheik Sidi has ridden out with the guard. What shall we do?"

The man in charge was undecided. "It's too late to reach our lord tonight, but send your fastest rider to intercept him."

"What will we do with the green-eyed one?"

"Put him in the cell with the other Inglizi."

Chapter 23

Mallory swallowed her fear and pulled the veil over her face as they approached Caldoia.

Fizal gave her an encouraging look. "Do not worry, lady. You will be safe with me."

A stalwart guard with a suspicious expression halted them at the gate. His dark eyes were hostile, and his voice was deadly calm. After Fizal talked to him for some time, the guard reluctantly waved them inside.

"Lady," Fizal said, looking apologetic, "a thousand pardons, but it was necessary to tell the guard that you are my wife."

Mallory smiled. "If it got us inside, it was the correct thing to do. It was clever of you to think of it."

His dark face creased in a frown. "I should not have brought you here, lady. The guard told me they have tightened security at the city gates because Caldoia is at war with the Sawarka and the Jebeliya."

"The war has started already," Mallory said fearfully. "We must hurry and find my father-in-law." She glanced back at the guard suspiciously. "Why do you suppose he allowed us inside?"

"I told him we were visiting my cousin, Jabl, and he is acquainted with him, so he allowed us to pass. We were fortunate to enter when we did, lady, because they are preparing to fortify the city."

For a moment, Mallory considered leaving while they had the chance. It was frightening to know that they would be trapped in Caldoia. They had managed to get inside the city, but they had no plan of escape. She took several big gulps of air and turned to Fizal.

"Take me to the tower, at once."

"But, lady, it is not safe. Would it not be better if I took you to my aunt's house while I seek my cousin?"

"No," she said stubbornly. "If there is to be a battle, we must free my husband's father at once."

His eyes widened with fear. "This is a dangerous thing you ask of me. If we are discovered, it would be death for us both."

Mallory tried another approach. "Fizal, in the battle that is about to take place, your friends and family from Kamar Ginena are the ones who will be fighting against Sheik Sidi. If we can free my father-in-law, we will be fighting Sheik Sidi in our own way. Although we are only two people, we can strike at his heart and wound his pride."

His eyes suddenly glistened. "Yes, we can do it, lady."

"I am glad you agree."

"But will you not allow me to take you to my aunt, until I can speak with my cousin?"

"I can see the wisdom in what you say, Fizal. I will agree to stay with your aunt, but only until you can speak to your cousin, and no longer."

* * *

Michael awoke, feeling as if his head was about to explode, and he flinched at the pain that shot through him when he attempted to rise.

"Careful, Michael."

He blinked his eyes, trying to focus them in the dark. "Father, is it you . . . or am I hallucinating?"

"I'm real enough, Michael. But what in God's name are you doing here?"

Michael choked down the lump that came to his throat, and he reached out and grabbed his father's hand. "Thank God you're alive!"

Raile pressed a cloth against the lump on his son's head. "If you can call this living. Do you think you can stand?"

"I believe so."

Raile aided his son to his feet, and they stared at each other for a long moment. Michael noticed that his father was clean-shaven and appeared well groomed, so apparently his captors hadn't treated him too badly. On closer inspection, he saw that his father looked older, there was more gray at the temples, and he was also thinner.

After getting over the shock of seeing his son dressed as an Arab, Raile studied Michael's face and found a new maturity—but there was more: There was a sense of confidence and strength about him and a cynical twist to his lips. His eyes no longer danced with humor as they once had, but were seeking and distrustful.

Raile wondered what had happened to his son to change him. But there would be time to talk of that later. "Does your head hurt?" he asked at last.

"It's sore as hell, Father, but I'm no worse for it."

"What happened? Why are you here?" There was a reprimand in his father's voice.

"I'm here because you are, Father. And as to what happened, I can't be sure. A friend helped me enter the city, but apparently I was expected, and Sidi's soldiers found me. We were set upon in an alleyway. My companion was killed, and I was knocked unconscious."

Raile's voice was stern. "I wasn't asking how you got into Caldoia. I want to know what you're doing in Egypt. Surely you now see the folly of your actions."

Michael was puzzled. "You should have known I'd come. Weren't you expecting me?"

"I hoped you would not become embroiled in this tangled web of intrigue." Raile motioned for Michael to be seated on a chair, and continued to apply a damp cloth to his head. "I certainly didn't want to see you imprisoned with me."

"As you might know, Mother is frantic over your disappearance. She won't rest until you have returned to England."

Raile's expression softened at the mention of his wife. "How is your mother?"

Michael could be nothing but honest. "She is only half alive without you. I have never seen her so distressed."

"Tell me about the family, what they are doing. Thinking about each of you is all that's kept me from going out of my mind all these months."

"Arrian had a daughter just before I left England. Mother had word that they were both doing well."

Raile smiled in wonder. "A granddaughter. That gives me another reason to escape this hell. I'm worried about your mother, though."

"I'm sure Arrian and Warrick are helping to keep mother's hopes alive. Then there's Aunt Mary. You know her—she'll take everyone in hand. I'm sure you needn't worry, Father."

"Dear Aunt Mary. I even miss her." Raile tossed the cloth aside and examined the lump on Michael's head. "I suppose you'll live—at least until our jailer decides what's to be done with us."

"Don't give up. I have friends who may yet rescue us."

Raile looked skeptical. "More than likely, they'll find themselves imprisoned with us."

"Not these friends. They are powerful and resourceful. Do you know anything about the city of Kamar Ginena or the Jebeliya who live there?"

"I know that there's a rumor that such a city exists somewhere in the desert. I'd also heard it was more fiction than fact."

"It exists. Prince Khaldun, whose father rules the city, is a friend. He saved my life and helped me locate you."

"I still don't see how he can help us. The walls of Caldoia are very high, and they are well guarded."

"What you don't know, Father, is that there's a war brewing. Many of the bedouin tribes have banded together to help Prince Khaldun drive Sheik Sidi Ahmed out of Egypt. Their numbers have swelled into a powerful force. At this moment, Sheik Sidi is rushing into a trap. If Prince Khaldun is successful, Sidi may never return to Caldoia."

"I've learned something about this city's defenses since being a prisoner here. It won't matter how large a force attacks Caldoia, because no one will be able to breech the walls. And no matter what you think, Michael, Sidi will not be so easy to kill. He surrounds himself with an army of bodyguards who will gladly give their lives to protect him." Suddenly Raile's voice became sad. "Have you any word of Oliver?"

Michael lowered his head, unable to meet his father's eyes. "He was killed the night you were abducted. I'm sorry, Father."

Raile was silent a long time. "I was afraid of that. I can't imagine life without Oliver. He was with me for so long that he anticipated my needs before I did."

"I know, Father. We'll all miss him."

There was a long, poignant silence between them. At last, Raile spoke. "So, you've found me, Michael. Is it too much to hope that you have a definite plan on how we should get out of this hellhole?"

"I don't know what will happen now that I'm a prisoner, too. I had only two days to rescue you before Khaldun attacks."

"You have fallen into the hands of an evil man, Michael. He's kept me prisoner here because it satisfies him to think that by holding me, he is holding sway over Her Majesty,"

Michael stood up and flexed his aching muscles. "Have you been ill-treated?"

"At first I was kept in a small cell without light, and with only some kind of weak, putrid broth to eat. But after a while, I was brought here, and allowed to have my own clothing. The food I'm now served, while not particularly appetizing, is at least palatable."

Michael looked about the cell for the first time. It was clean and had a carpet on the stone floor; there was a bed, two chairs, and a table. A lantern hung from a wooden beam and gave off muted light.

He managed to smile at his father. "While this may be considered lavish quarters in Caldoia, I prefer the humblest cottage in Ravenworth."

Raile dropped down on the narrow bed, looking suddenly dejected. "I kept myself sane by remembering every house, every stream and tree on Ravenworth. I tried to imagine what your mother was doing, how you were faring in London, and if Arrian had given birth to a girl or boy."

Michael sat beside his father. "You will yet be reunited with Mother, and you will soon hold your new granddaughter in your arms."

Raile wanted to be as optimistic as his son, but he had been in this purgatory so long that he had lost hope. His deepest regret was that his son was now a prisoner with him.

"In allowing yourself to be captured, Michael, you have given Sidi a weapon to use against me. He has tried different methods to break me, but he has failed thus far. Now he may think he can bend me to his will by threatening me with your life. And he probably will defeat me by using you."

"What does this madman want from you, Father?"

"To humble me."

"Why would he want to do that?"

"Perhaps it makes little men feel big when they can crush others under their heel. I have become something of a challenge to him, and his obsession is to hear me beg for mercy."

"Then neither of us will satisfy his obsession," Michael said with feeling.

Raile assessed .his son. "You have changed, Michael. I look for the boy and see only the man."

"Yes, I have changed in many ways."

"There is something about you that I can't define."

Michael raised his head to meet his father's eyes. "Since arriving in Egypt, I have killed men, and I have stared death in the face many times. There is nothing I wouldn't have done to find you, and there is nothing this man, Sidi, can do to me that will make me fear him."

"Don't be too sure, Michael. You have never met a man like this one." There was urgency in Raile's voice. "Don't allow him to break you, Michael, for he will surely try, and if he does, he will tire of you and . . . those he tires of, he kills."

Michael managed to smile. "I'm a DeWinter. If he couldn't break you, he will never humble me."

Raile's eyes swept across his son's face, thinking that Kassidy would be proud of the man Michael had become.

They both fell silent. At last, Michael decided to bring some levity into their conversation. "There is another new member of our family besides Arrian's daughter."

Raile looked puzzled. "How can that be? Surely Aunt Mary hasn't remarried at her age?"

"No, it's not Aunt Mary. You see before you a new bridegroom."

"What?"

"Don't ask me how it happened, because I'm not sure I know all the reasons myself."

"So," Raile said unenthusiastically, "you finally married Lady Samantha. I always thought you would."

"No, I didn't marry Lady Samantha. My bride is a precocious, fearless little redhead that I kept tripping over ever since I left England. I believe you will approve of her though, Father."

It had always been Raile's fondest wish to see his son married. But since Michael would one day be the duke of Ravenworth, it was imperative that he had made a proper match.

"Who is this woman who was able to convince you to give up your reckless ways?"

"She was Lady Mallory Stanhope."

Raile frowned. "Stanhope . . . Stanhope? That name sounds familiar, but I can't think why."

"You would have had no occasion to meet Mallory, Father, because she has lived in the country all her life."  

Raile's eyes searched his son's. "I suppose her reputation is above reproach?"

"Oh, yes, of that you can be certain. She came to Egypt to be reunited with her mother and father. It seems they find artifacts for British museums."

"Oh, yes, I have heard of them, but I don't know them personally." Raile shook his head as if trying to absorb what Michael was telling him. "This was certainly sudden. I'm eager to meet this wife of yours."

"And so you shall. You will find that Mallory is like no one you have ever met." Then he smiled. "But that's not exactly true—perhaps she's something like Arrian, but with a temper."

Raile chuckled. "Heaven help you if that's so, because you'll have no control over your life. I'd say she sounds more like your mother."