Desert Song (DeWinter's Song 3) (24 page)

Raile looked into his son's eyes and stepped back. The father in him wanted to go with Michael, and make sure that he would be safe, but the man in him knew that Michael must go alone.

"Where will we meet afterwards?" Raile asked.

Jabl moved to stand by Michael, and said something in Arabic.

"My cousin says he will go with you, lord," Fizal said. "He can walk among the enemy without them being suspicious, and afterward, he will bring you to his parents' house, where I now take your father."

Mallory wanted to cry out for Michael not to go, but she dared not. She could see that he was in pain. How would he make it to the gate?

Michael motioned for Fizal to leave.

As the oxen slowly moved forward, Mallory turned to watch Michael until he melted into the shadows. By the time the cart reached the corner, he had disappeared completely.

Mallory glanced back at the duke and she saw the concern on his face. She could only imagine what torturous thoughts were going through his mind, because she herself was so frightened for Michael.

The night sky lit up with the flash of gunfire, and the cannon atop high walls boomed out, echoing in Mallory's ears.

She thought of Prince Khaldun, and her heart saddened—he and his brave Jebeliya were facing those cannons. Michael was their only hope.

Mallory knew this would be the longest night of her life.

Chapter 26

Michael and Jabl made their way toward the main gate. Many times, Michael was overcome with weakness and had to stop for a moment until the weakness passed.

When the pain became too bad, Michael thought about his friends being cut down by enemy fire, and that gave him the strength he needed to keep going, and he moved forward, ever closer to the gate.

At last, it was in sight. Michael paused, leaning against a building so he could assess the situation.

"What shall we do, lord?" Jabl asked in Arabic.

"My friend, I don't even know your name," Michael answered him in the same language. "I don't know why you want to help me, but if we are going to die together, I believe we should call each other by first names. I am called Michael."

"I am called Jabl, lord."

"Michael," he insisted.

"Michael," Jabl repeated, grinning. "I know you only as the great Akhdar 'em Akraba."

Michael grimaced at the sound of the appellation. Was he to go through life with that cursed name? "The one thing that is in our favor, Jabl, is that Sidi's soldiers are so busy watching their front, they won't think to look to their back."

"That is so."

"What I want you to do is walk among them, spreading the word that Sidi has been assassinated. That news will surely demoralize them and make them less eager to fight."

"I will do that, Michael."

"Remember to keep your head down. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Would it not be better if you let me open the gate? You are hurt, Michael."

"No. You will better serve our cause if you can create chaos in the ranks. Leave the gate to me."

"May Allah walk at your side," Jabl said.

* * *

Raile, alone in the small garden, watched flashes of light from the artillery illuminate the night sky. His distress was plainly written on his face. When the veiled Arab woman appeared at his side, offering him food, he waved her away.

"I can't eat, not while my son's in danger." Mallory merely nodded and was turning to leave, when Raile spoke to her. "I know you don't understand English, but I owe you so much. You saved my son's life. I wonder if you know what that means to me? It must have been difficult for a woman brought up in your religion to take a life."

Mallory's eyes were tear filled, but she shrugged, pretending she didn't understand what her father-in-law was saying. She could see that Michael looked very like his father. They were the same height. Their features were very similar, and they were both handsome. Their eyes were not the same, though—the duke's were dark, while Michael's were like emerald fire.

The sound of cannon blasts shook the ground beneath their feet. Raile's eyes were troubled as he looked toward the explosion. "I don't even know where the damn gate is. I feel as if I should go to my son." He swung around to face Mallory. "I fear you may have saved his life only so— no . . . I won't think about that."

Raile sat down on a bench and buried his head in his hands. "Sidi used a whip on my son, did you know that?" He glanced up at Mallory. "Even though you don't understand what I'm saying, it feels good to put into words what I'm thinking."

She approached him and handed him a cup of strong, sweet Arab coffee. He took a drink and leaned back against the bench. "My God, the world is falling apart all around me, and I'm sitting in a garden sipping coffee and talking to a woman who doesn't understand a word I'm saying."

Mallory looked into the distance, where several buildings were burning. Gunfire split the air, and cannon fire continued to shake the ground. She, also, was frightened for Michael, and she needed the comfort his father could give her, but something kept her from revealing her identity.

"My son is the pride of his mother." Raile looked up at the silent woman. "You would like my Kassidy—everyone does."

Mallory sat down on the bench as the duke continued to talk. She needed to be near him, to hear him speak about normality, because she was so frightened.

"I have a daughter, Arrian. She's sweet and gentle, not fiery tempered like her mother." He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, it was with deep feeling. "Michael is married, and I haven't yet met his wife. He is the last of the DeWinter line, you know? His mother and I wanted to see him settled down with a wife. We wanted many grandsons to inherit the lands and title."

Mallory could listen no more. She stood up and held her hand out for his cup. When he gave it to her, she started for the house, but stopped when he spoke.

"I apologize for talking so much. If I knew the words in your language, I'd ask you to forgive me."

Mallory nodded, and walked away.

Fizal met Mallory at the door and took the tray from her. "You did not tell the great one who you are?"

"I could not. Promise me you will never tell Michael that I was with you tonight." Her voice took on an urgency. "I don't want him to know that I was there, Fizal. And I don't want him to know I killed a man."

Fizal nodded. "He will not hear it from me, lady. This I swear."

She followed him into the tiny kitchen. "The fighting is getting closer, isn't it?"

"I believe so."

"Are we in danger?"

"I will do all to protect you."

She felt true friendship for this young man who had done so much for her. She touched his arm. "I will always feel safe with you nearby. But could you not go in search of my husband? I fear for him."

"I will go, lady. You will be safe with the Inglizi here to protect you."

* * *

Michael moved cautiously toward the gate. When he encountered a group of foot soldiers carrying cases of ammunition, he joined them, lifting one of the cases on his shoulder. The pain he felt was so bad that he had to clamp his lips together tightly so he wouldn't cry out. As they moved toward the ladder that led to the battlements, he slipped into the shadows.

Overcome with dizziness, Michael dropped the case of ammunition. "Not now," he said aloud as beads of sweat gathered on his upper lip, and he fought off lightheadedness. "I can't lose consciousness now."

From the sounds of the battle, it appeared that Prince Khaldun and his Jebeliyas were taking a pounding.

Michael gritted his teeth and stumbled toward the gate. Amazingly, with the battle going on, no one took notice of him. Using all his strength, he shoved the wooden bolt aside, and the heavy gate creaked slightly open.

He could hear the sound of cheering as he pushed against the gate and it opened wide. Michael dropped to his knees, too weak to move out of the way. All he could see was the charging horses riding toward him.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the impact, but instead, he felt a horse brush against him as if he were being shielded from the onslaught. He blinked and looked up into the smiling face of Prince Khaldun.

"You did it, my friend. You did it!" the prince cried. He turned to a man behind him. "Bring another horse. We shall ride into the city in triumph!"

It was all Michael could do to climb into the saddle. But they did indeed ride into the city at the head of the victorious army.

There was nothing to fear from Sidi's troops. Those who had attempted to take the Jebeliya from behind had been vanquished, and those who defended the city threw down their weapons and surrendered when word reached them that Sidi was dead, and that Akhdar 'em Akraba had magically opened the gates of Caldoia to welcome the conquerors.

Now, as Prince Khaldun's army rode through the streets, the people of Caldoia appeared subdued and frightened. In the distance, only sporadic gunfire could be heard, and even that soon stopped.

The victors waved their guns above their heads and cried out a chant. "Sheik Sidi Ahmed is dead! Long live Prince Khaldun!"

Hakeem joined Khaldun and Michael, his eyes dancing with elation. "We have done it, my friends! We have defeated the Turk!" Heartily, he clapped Michael on the back. "Praise be to Allah that we had Akhdar 'em Akraba on our side."

Michael slumped forward as blackness engulfed him. His last conscious sensation was of falling . . . falling . . .

Khaldun leaped from his horse and lifted his friend's head, not knowing what had happened to him. "Someone make a litter, quickly. Lord Michael has been injured."

Fizal came forward and bowed to his prince. "If Your Highness will permit, the lord should be taken to my aunt's house. His father waits there for him."

"Then his father is alive?"

"He is, Highness."

Khaldun looked into Fizal's face, and when he spoke it was in a stern voice. "It was my belief that you were escorting Lord Michael's lady to Cairo. Why is it that I find you in Caldoia among my enemies?"

Fizal found it difficult to lie to his prince. "I have done as I was told. I am here because my aunt and uncle live here, and because I thought I could help with Lord Michael's father. As it happened, Lord Michael was also a prisoner."

"You rescued them?"

"With the help of my cousin and ... his sister."

Khaldun's attention was drawn to the men who were carefully placing Michael on a litter, and Fizal was relieved that his prince had no time to question him further.

"Take Lord Michael's horse and lead the way to your aunt's house," Prince Khaldun commanded. "I will follow. I want to see his father for myself." He turned to his father-in-law. "Hakeem, have someone find my physician and send him to me."

Khaldun walked beside the litter and was soon joined by an army of men. It was a quiet procession that wound its way through the city. The hero of the day was gravely ill, and no one knew how seriously he was hurt.

* * *

Raile was the first to hear the murmur of voices. He flung open the door and saw the procession that stopped in front of the house. He ran forward to the figure on the litter, knowing it would be his son.

Mallory would have run after him, but she stopped herself just in time. It would appear suspicious if an Arab woman showed too much interest in Lord Michael. Instead, she stood in the doorway, clasping her hands, not knowing if he lived or if he was dead.

Cairo

England's consul to Egypt sipped tea with Her Grace, the duchess of Ravenworth, and her son-in-law, Lord Warrick Glencarin. He was very aware of the importance of his guests.

"Your correspondence was not forthcoming," Kassidy said with veiled anger. "So I decided to come to Egypt myself. Tell me, Lord Geoffrey, what exactly are you doing to locate my husband and my son?"

"Your Grace, I can assure you that we have searched extensively for His Grace. Even now, we are following every rumor, and there have been many. As for your son, my assistant tells me he warned Lord Michael repeatedly not to go into the desert."

"It would seem that too many people just disappear around here, Lord Geoffrey. Doesn't it seem odd to you?"

"Your Grace," Lord Geoffrey said in a shocked voice. "Surely you can't blame me for your son's disappearance. I was in England while he was here in Cairo. I never even met his lordship."

Lord Warrick said, "You speak with Her Majesty's voice here in Egypt. What do you suggest we do, my lord?"

The consul tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. He was more interested in trying to distance himself from blame for whatever had happened to the duke of Ravenworth and his son than in putting forth an answer to Lord Warrick's question. "His Grace should never have gone into the desert without an army escort. If he had asked my advice, he never would have disappeared, and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Kassidy's eyes snapped with anger. "I'm sure my husband thought his mission for Queen Victoria would take precedence over any warning you might have given him." She shifted in her chair impatiently. "Tell me everything you know that might help my husband and son, and tell me now."

The consul cleared his voice. "I have heard only bits of news that keep filtering in from the desert. It seems there was a fearsome war that broke out between several Bedouin tribes and the Turk, Sheik Sidi Ahmed, who was slain. As it turns out, he was the man who was supplying the guns and inciting war. At least that problem is taken care of, Your Grace."

"Do you think he was the man who captured my husband?" Kassidy asked.

"The rumors say an Englishman was held captive in Caldoia, which was Sheik Sidi Ahmed's stronghold, although I cannot say for sure."

"Didn't you investigate?" Warrick asked.

"It takes a long time to run down every rumor that filters in from the desert. But it was something I was going to explore, eventually," Lord Geoffrey assured him.

Warrick was losing patience. The man seemed to talk a lot, but say nothing. "The only thing you seem to be sure of, Lord Geoffrey, is that you aren't sure of anything."

The man coughed and sputtered. "I have done my best with the communications being what they are in this primitive country."

Kassidy placed a restraining hand on Warrick's arm. "You must understand that we are desperate. I have no intention of leaving Egypt until I have my husband and son with me."