Path of the Eclipse (58 page)

“Yes,” Saint-Germain said quickly. “If the guard is part of this, you would not be allowed to leave.” He regarded his visitor with curiosity. “Under the cirsumtances, I am not entirely sure what you expect of me.”

Jalal-im-al stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, since you know you are a marked man, how do you think I can assist you?” He was not angry, and there was no worry in his words or his face. “Do you want me to aid you? If so, how?”

“I had not thought…” Jalal-im-al began, coloring slightly.

“Perhaps it would be wise if you do so now,” Saint-Germain said calmly, though he was growing troubled. “How did you approach this house?”

“From the side, through the garden. I didn’t want to go near the slaves’ quarters, in case one of them might still be up, or there might be a guard on duty.” He was mildly upset to admit this. “I have come like a thief in the night, it is true, but I pray you won’t refuse to hide me. I know I would not live an hour on those roads now.” Again he hesitated. “You haven’t any reason to help me, and I have not behaved in a way that would give you a respect of me. I realize that. But I never thought—”

“That the tables might be turned,” Saint-Germain suggested. “It is a fairly accurate description of the situation.” He looked at the young Muslim’s haggard face. “You fear for your life, Jalal-im-al, for what I assume is the first time.”

Jalal-im-al nodded and could not look at Saint-Germain. “I’ve been on maneuvers, but never … nothing like that.”

“Yes.” There was genuine sympathy in Saint-Germain’s dark eyes. “You believed that it would not happen to you, and tonight you discovered that indeed it could.” How long ago he had learned that sobering lesson! Yet, remotely, he recalled the invaders with their swords and torches and whips, and the things they did. “There is no shame in fear.”

“But I trust in Allah, and I am subservient to Allah’s Will,” Jalal-im-al protested.

“That does not mean that you must want to have a shimtare in your guts.” He got to his feet. “I am here on sufferance myself, and there are spies here. I cannot promise you that you will be safe with me, but I will do what I may for you.”

Relief filled Jalal-im-al and his vision swam. After the long hours of horror and fright, there was safety. “Allah is merciful,” he said, and started to get to his feet.

Saint-Germain motioned him to stay where he was, and then walked to the door. For one dreadful moment Jalal-im-al was convinced that Saint-Germain would give him away, but almost in the same instant he heard the foreigner call to the night steward. “You may hear an occasional commotion here,” he said to the slave. “I am involved in some delicate procedures that require supernatural aid, and anything that disturbs me, and consequently them, will be most dangerous for everyone in this household. I would appreciate it if you would warn the other night guards so that they will not break in while I am working and do themselves harm.”

The slave, listening in awe, bowed slightly and gave his word that he would not enter the laboratry if he saw demons and devils cavorting around the whole building.

“I am grateful to you,” Saint-Germain told the man, and gestured to dismiss him. When he came back into the room, he said, “That will keep them away for a little while, but not long. And Padmiri won’t believe it for a moment. Therefore, you must be secure before morning.”

Jalal-im-al did not entirely follow what he had been told, but he rose unsteadily. “I will go where you wish.”

“Well, for the moment that will not be too difficult. I will send you to my sleeping quarters and put you in the care of my manservant, Rogerio. You know him. But after first light, we will have to find a better place for you. There will be slaves all over the house, and some of them, doubtless, are spies. If it is even hinted that you are here, not only will you no longer be safe, but I, Rogerio, and Padmiri, as well, will be in grave danger. I say this so that you will not take risks or be tempted to press your luck. Allah may protect you, but not from your own folly.” He began to pace around the room. “There is a small amount of room above this ceiling. It would be possible to hide you there, I think, but it would require that you lie still all day. You would not be able to eat until dark, and you must avoid making noise of any kind. Can you do that?”

The young Muslim was about to make extravagant promises, but there was something in Saint-Germain’s penetrating gaze that stopped him. “I think I might be able to. With Allah’s aid.”

“Of course,” Saint-Germain said dryly. He went to the largest of his worktables and without warning banged two metal pots together and let out a whoop that sent a shudder up Jalal-im-al’s spine. Saint-Germain replaced the pots and said, quite conversationally, “I promised the night steward some unearthly noises: it’s best that he hear a few.”

Shortly thereafter, as Saint-Germain was shaking a wooden tub filled with pebbles, Rogerio came into the room. He was neatly dressed, and there was nothing in his manner that implied Saint-Germain was behaving oddly. “There was a noise,” he said.

“Yes, and there are apt to be more for a while,” Saint-Germain said in Greek. “We have a visitor, as you see. He tells me that the worshipers of Kali are abroad. When he arrived he told me that the entire Delhi mission had been slaughtered. In the morning, you will find out if this is the truth, as I suspect it is.” He had left the tub alone and was blowing down the neck of a thick glass cone. The noise it made was eerie, and Jalal-im-al pressed his hands to his ears.

“And the visitor?” Rogerio was also speaking Greek. “What of him?”

“We must hide him, and well. As soon as it can be arranged, he must be sent away from here.” He struck one of the brass chests with a large stone. “That should be enough for the moment.” Then he gave his attention to Jalal-im-al again. “Do you know Persian?” he asked in that language.

“A little. Well enough,” came the answer, strongly accented but quite acceptable.

“Speak no other language until we’re away from here,” Saint-Germain warned him. “There will be those who know the tongue of Delhi, but they will not know Persian, or will not expect to hear it from a Sultan’s man.” Saint-Germain caught his lower lip between his small white teeth as he looked from Rogerio to the Muslim and back again. “I think that Loramidi Chol might be the best one to ask. He knows I have a student, and has not seen him.”

“Who is this man?” Jalal-im-al demanded. “What person do you speak of?” He fought a rising panic as decisions were made for him.

“This man is a merchant, very well-respected. He does a great deal of trading with the lands of the Sultan, and it would not be impossible, if you were willing to disguise yourself, that you could leave this place with him.” Saint-Germain read Jalal-im-al’s offended expression correctly. “Better to go disguised and live than to keep a proper dress and die,” he pointed out.

“But a merchant, and an Infidel…” His objection faltered as he recalled the charnel house he had left behind. “I will wear a disguise.”

“And speak Persian,” Saint-Germain reminded him gently. “I have lived much longer than you have, Jalal-im-al, and I have learned that too much pride is a dangerous luxury.”

For once Jalal-im-al did not wish to dispute the matter. He gestured his acceptance as the last of his strength deserted him. “I will do as you tell me to do.”

“Good. For the moment, I tell you to rest. Rogerio, take him to my quarters and make up a bed for him in the corner, away from mine. I will want it removed before the slaves come to sweep in the morning.” He gave the young Muslim a quick smile. “You will be wakened early, so do not linger now. You may sleep the day out, if you wish. So long as you are not restless and do not talk in your sleep.”

Jalal-im-al made a sign to protect himself from evil. “Those who speak in their sleep are the tools of demons and Allah will turn his face from them.”

“Quite possibly,” Saint-Germain said affably. “But for the moment, to bed with you. Rogerio, watch over him,” he added, once more in Greek.

“And you?”

“I’ve got to find the access to the place above the ceiling without rousing suspicion. An hour before dawn, come to me.” He was already walking about, looking up, making note of the structure of the room, checking the length of the beams. “Oh, and Rogerio—if there should be any questions, I conjured up demons to aid me last night. Boast of it to the slaves. You may be as inventive as you like short of claiming I destroyed the house entirely.” His tone was light but tense and Rogerio knew enough not to question his master at such times.

“At the hour before dawn,” he said, and led Jalal-im-al from the room, promising the young man that he would not disturb him until it was necessary to do so.

When Rogerio returned to Saint-Germain’s laboratory, he found his master standing on a stool that had been put on a table. He was making a last adjustment in a section of the ceiling. “Is that ready?”

“I think so. The space above is cramped, but not impossible. If the weather stays chilly he will want a blanket, and perhaps a layer of bedding against the boards. It will muffle sounds, as well.” Saint-Germain climbed down off the table and dusted the front of his clothes. “I’m fairly sure that part of the ceiling will stand all but the closest scrutiny. I’m delighted that there was so much ornamentation painted between the beams.”

“But what will you do with him?” Rogerio neither looked nor sounded distressed, but there was concern in his eyes.

“I will send word to Chol, and I think it will be fairly easily arranged. He is aware that he can demand a high price for such a service, and this will work to our advantage.” He took the stool off the table and set it on the floor. “I think you’d better take a few of those sapphires I made last week and put them out. By now the slaves will have learned that I was engaged in large conjurings last night, and will expect me to have something to show for it. I’ll give one to Padmiri, and that should satisfy the household.”

“Very well, I’ll get out the jewels. Anything more?” Rogerio’s reserve was more telling than his opposition would have been.

“You disapprove, old friend. Why?”

“It’s a great risk. There is danger enough without this. If he should be discovered, he will die, and Padmiri, and you and I. You don’t like Jalal-im-al. You’ve said that before. Yet you do this for him.” Rogerio went to the Roman chest and opened a concealed drawer.

“True enough. I don’t like him much. But I understand how he must feel, having seen what he has seen.” His grief was clear as still water: he no longer resisted or denied it. “The warriors of Jenghiz Khan, the men of Kali, they’re the same madness.”

Rogerio said nothing more. He came back to the table, his hand held out. In it rested three sapphires, two blue and one black, each beautifully starred. “Here. The largest has a tinge of purple in it. Padmiri would be complimented.”

Saint-Germain touched the sapphires. “Yes. An excellent choice. Leave them near the copper pan. The slaves will be sure to see them, and they will gossip about them.”

“And Loramidi Chol? When do you send word to him?” Rogerio arranged the sapphires beside the pan as he had been told.

“Not today, I think. It will be better tomorrow. Once word reaches here from the palace of the killing of the Delhi mission, there will be an uproar. It will be wisest if we do not intrude in this. However, since I have made such fine jewels, it will be unremarkable that I wish to obtain more supplies. Tomorrow I can request Chol visit me and it will be assumed that the sapphires have exhausted my resources. You might hint as much if you are asked questions,” Saint-Germain added with an amused twist to his mouth.

“Of course.” Rogerio started for the door. “I’ll wake Jalal-im-al now, if you think it wise.”

“Yes. And I will spend the day resting. After last night, no one will think it strange. I will have time to think, and to restore myself. Also, I will not have to answer too many questions.” He indicated the place in the ceiling. “Make sure that it is properly closed once Jalal-im-al has concealed himself.” He paused to look at the jewels, then spoke more briskly. “We should have him away in six days, eight at the most. Feeding him may be awkward, but it will be accomplished somehow. For the time being, we can find bread, and tonight there should be other edibles we can filch for him.”

“I can say that you have asked for local food as part of your studies.” Rogerio was still carefully neutral.

“No, I think not. It might rouse suspicions. Everyone can understand eating food, but experimenting with it? Better to steal a little of it than create needless puzzles.” He had reached the door, but made one last comment before going through it. “Jalal-im-al is an impetuous, brave, foolhardy young man. Be certain that he understands that he will have my aid only so long as he does precisely as I tell him to do. If he disobeys me in any way, I will abandon him to whatever fate Tamasrajasi wishes to give him. I have heard that it took the eunuch who killed her father four days to die. Tell him that.”

Rogerio nodded once. “I will do what I can.”

Saint-Germain chuckled. “My old friend, disapprove of me if you must, but remember that I do not require that you stay with me. If you wish to leave, tell me, and it will be arranged.” His eyes had grown somber and he gave his servant a long, steady look.

“I have been with you since that rainy day in Rome. I would need more than pique to leave you.” His austere features creased into a fleeting smile, and he was no longer rigidly disapproving.

“You reassure me,” Saint-Germain said easily, but with utter sincerity. Then he was through the door, and Rogerio was left alone in the laboratory in the predawn half-light.

A memorandum from the reservoir builders to the chamberlain of the Rani Tamasrajasi.

Most respectfully, we of the building supervisors at work upon the reservoir begun on the order of the Rajah Kare Dantinusha request that the chamberlain of the god-favored Rani Tamasrajasi place our questions before her.

The reservoir, as perhaps you are not aware, is more than half completed, and there must be certain critical work done now if the structure is to withstand the onslaught of the rains, which will begin in about ninety days. As we must undertake these tasks almost at once, we most respectfully beseech the Rani to make her decision known to us at once. If we delay in these precautions, then the structure will be unsound and will doubtless be much damaged by the rains. It is not certain to us that the Rani wishes the reservoir to be built, and if she determines that the work must be abandoned, though it was the wish of her father that the work go forward, then it is senseless to keep so many men laboring at a grueling job that is not to be continued.