Chisisi and his henchmen were present to obsequiously bow, scrape and wail with feigned distress, while the palanquin was lowered down gently to the ground by the four slaves.
With great care, the slaves lifted the bed off the palanquin and carried the master into his house.
His eyes were shut as though sleeping, but Talon understood his pain and that it took Abbas all of his strength to endure being moved in this way. They brought him up the stairs onto the second floor, across the mezzanine, and finally to the large spacious bedroom he shared with his wife. There were whispers and even shocked comments on the number of men who now stood on that floor. These exclamations came from the assembled heavily veiled women, as they clustered in every corner of the wide space.
Khalidah ignored them and she in person met the procession at the head of the stairs. She gazed down on her husband with tears pouring down her cheeks, although she said nothing and simply laid a hand upon his shoulder. She nodded to the men to continue towards their bedroom.
There they laid the platform down before moving him onto a hard bed that had been especially constructed to prevent movement to his back but still allow him to rest. It was the best anyone could do, as there was no cure for his injury, other than perhaps time. Talon considered it a miracle that Abbas had survived even this long. He had been told by the palace physician that complications often followed a broken back, which appeared to be unrelated, and these were what killed the patient in the end.
Abbas groaned and opened his eyes wide with the pain of being jerked about. He caught sight of Khalidah leaning over him. He tried to raise his hand to her but was too weak.
She took his hand and kissed it and then kissed him on the forehead, unmindful of the watching crowd. The physician drove everyone out, leaving the two together for a moment, but he warned her not to tire Abbas. The last Talon saw of them that day was Khalidah crouched beside Abbas, talking to him and holding his hand cupped in hers.
It had been decided by his mother, Lady Emushire, that Abbas should be cared for in his own bedroom, accessible via the wide steps leading up from the ground floor to the mezzanine. This had created some difficulty at first with regard to men going into the private area of the household, but Khalidah had stepped in and insisted that a body guard and the three of Abbas’s senior men would have access to the master while he was an invalid.
Her mother-in-law opened her mouth to protest, and indeed Chisisi said, “I think, my lady, you should reconsider. We never let the men into this area.”
Khalidah rounded on him in cold fury, her eyes flashing. “If you ever contradict me again you can expect a whipping. Now get out of my sight!”
Both he and her mother-in-law had left in stunned silence.
Talon talked about it with Bilal later in the day, once the guards had been posted to Panhsj’s satisfaction before he staggered off to bed for a long deserved rest.
“I am full of admiration for our mistress,” Bilal said while they sipped tea in their favorite place by the stables in the shade of a fruit tree. “That Chisisi has been in charge here for so long, he thinks that he even can tell my Lady what to do.”
“She has made an enemy of him, for sure,” Talon said. “We have to watch him. If he harms her or the children…”
“Then he is a dead man!” Bilal said with finality. “I shall personally stab him to death with a blunt piece of wood.”
“You will have to beat Panhsj and myself to the doing of it,” Talon said with a grin.
He glanced over at Anyess swinging her hips as she walked away, having brought them some tea.
Bilal noticed the glance. “That one has taken a liking to you also, Suleiman. I think you should bed her and ease her itch, and perhaps your own…you have always been hard to read in that area, my young friend.” He grinned at Talon’s discomfort. “You do like women don’t you?”
Talon went red. “Of course, Bilal, but, well, there hasn’t been a lot of time for that recently, and we did talk about it before. First you tell me Lamya wants me, and now it is Anyess. Are you trying to get me in trouble?”
“Pshaw!” Bilal laughed. “Every one of the serving girls would hop into your bed at the snap of your fingers, Suleiman, even that fat old thing from down south, and I am sure that you know it. I, on the other hand, a decrepit old man, must beg favors from where and whom I can.” He put on a plaintive voice.
Talon laughed outright at the lugubrious expression on Bilal’s face and pointed his finger at him accusingly. “You? I have seen you fighting and playing chogan, so you are anything but decrepit, Bilal. I have no doubt that it is you who could have any one of them whenever you wanted, and probably do. What nonsense is this?”
Bilal leaned forward to pick up his tea cup, which looked small in his large fingers; he grinned over its edge as he took a sip. “Well…all right, but the one who did come to my bed asked me one evening if you preferred boys.”
Talon had been sipping his tea but now he choked, and for several seconds he was coughing hard. Meanwhile, Bilal chuckled at his discomfiture and even offered to smack him on the back if he needed it. Talon glared at him.
“Well, it seems I have the answer…which one do you want me to send to you first?” Bilal said solicitously. He let out a huge fart with a relieved look on his face that turned into a beatific smile of satisfaction.
Talon was startled; it was so loud and sudden, his face registering his surprise.
“I felt I was pregnant, had to let it go,” Bilal explained. “The food here is so strange; I miss the food at Fayoum. I don’t trust the cook here. Allah be my witness, I think he is trying to poison us all.”
Talon could not help it, he laughed. His affection for the big, bluff man, with his earthy sense of humor and appalling bad manners, continued to grow.
The conversation veered to how best to protect their master, from what Talon was not sure.
Bilal was uncertain too. “Suleiman, listen to me, he is a favorite of the sultan, who has given us men. Look around you at the number of them.”
“There are ten more well-armed men loafing about the stables with the already sizeable group who came with us from the Fayoum.”
Talon glanced over to where he had indicated with his thumb. The new men had settled down near the stables, making themselves as comfortable as possible for the duration of their stay. Cooking fires were lit and more food was being brought to them from the kitchens.
“They are even trampling some of the nearby gardens, which will annoy the old gardener Tamir no end when he sees the damage,” Talon said, pointing this out to Bilal, who shrugged.
“Who would dare to attack us while we are under the protection of the sultan? At least while he is still here in residence, and with as many men as we have now?” Bilal continued.
“I know what you are saying, Bilal, but I am just not sure it is finished.”
Bilal looked at him skeptically. “You might be right. We do not have much to go on, but I think he is safer here than in the Sultan’s palace; especially as Salah Ed Din is leaving for the Negev next week, may Allah protect him as he battles those Frans, God damn them.”
“Yes, God damn them.” Talon smiled to himself, having fulfilled his self promise. “I agree with that, Bilal, and no, I do not have a good reason for worrying about it, other than that during the Polo game we both know they tried to kill him. Perhaps they have decided that he can do no harm to them now and will leave him be?”
Talon did not sound convincing to his own ears, but he could not tell Bilal what he had done several nights before. No one must know that he was a Fidai of the Assassins and that he could move like a shadow in other people’s houses.
“In Allah’s name, I hope so,” Bilal said getting up. “I can see your young master heading this way, so I shall make my escape now.” He grinned at Talon before he left.
“My young master?” Talon asked him.
Pretending not to see Kazim rushing down the path towards them, Bi
lal hurried back towards the stables, shouting orders and waving his arms at the troops, leaving Talon to get up and bow to Kazim, who arrived breathless, his face tear-streaked and desolate.
“Suleiman, I have seen father. It is terrible…! What are we going to do?” He choked, trying unsuccessfully to keep tears from flowing again.
Talon stood between the boy and the men who were beginning to stare curiously from the stable area. Some of them had never seen Kazim, but they knew of him. Talon said in a quiet but firm voice, “Kazim, hide your tears from the men. You are the young master while your father is ill. They must not see you cry.” He tried not to sound too severe.
Kazim stared up at Talon with scared, wet eyes, but he listened. Wiping the tears away with his sleeve, he sniffed and straightened his shoulders.
“That is better. Now would you like to inspect your men?” Talon asked him.
Kazim stared at him in surprise but then gave a mute nod, and walked alongside Talon, who took him to the stables and introduced him to those men who were his father’s, which gave Talon the opportunity to find out the names of the others who had arrived at the orders of the sultan. Bilal was forced to attend. He grimaced back at Talon, who winked. Bilal was not fooled; he understood.
Talon noticed that the men reacted well to seeing Kazim, who soon forgot his grief and began to enjoy the role as the young lord. The boy seemed to like meeting the men, who bowed elaborately to him as he was introduced and called praises down on the head of his father.
Later, while walking away, Kazim took Talon by the hand and looked up at him.
“Thank you, Suleiman. Allah protect you,” he said. Releasing his hand, the boy ran the last few yards into the palace.
“Allah protect you too, young lord,” Talon muttered, as he watched him go. He wondered how the mood was with Khalidah and Jasmine in that house of wailing women and shrieking eunuchs.
The sultan left that week, a little earlier than Bilal had anticipated, leaving a small garrison to man the Citadel and a few thousand regular soldiers behind. The city seemed quieter with the main body of the army now marching off to harass the southern reaches of the Kingdom of Jerusalem. Talon and Panhsj, who had by now recovered from his self-imposed lack of sleep while guarding his master, worried about the future.
“Did Bahir and his men go with the sultan?” they asked Bilal later. He did not have an answer. “Perhaps he did, but I have not heard,” was all he said. Talon wanted to be sure.
* * * * *
Talon again got in touch with the boy Kontar, and soon he found himself back in the depths of the city, drinking coffee with Mukhwana.
“Allah protect you, Teacher. How have you been?” Mukhwana asked as he slurped his drink.
“May Allah protect your soul and heap blessings on your house,” Talon answered. He sat comfortably opposite him and glanced around. It was strange, but nothing seemed ever to change in this underground cave. Everyone who had been there was always still there, even after several weeks of his absence. Perhaps they were all a dream, he wondered. The smoke from one of the pipes reminded him that there were dreams to be had from a pipe. However, Mukhwana was alert and keen to hear from Talon the condition of his master.
Talon told him freely, not forgetting to thank him for the unobtrusive escort that watched them into the palace some days ago. Mukhwana shrugged it off.
“You are here, I take it, to find out if my lord Abbas still has enemies in the city, or did they leave with the sultan?”
Not for the first time Talon wondered at the extent of the man’s underground intelligence.
He nodded. “I still feel uncomfortable and uncertain about Bahir’s intentions towards my master,” he said.
“You have reason to. Did you er…ever visit his place?”
“I did.”
Mukhwana looked hard at him with his one eye. “When did you go? And did you enter his palace?”
Talon told him, whereupon Mukhwana grunted with surprise. “My people watch Lord Abbas’s place from all around and they did not report anything to me. You gained entry to Lord Bahir’s palace?”
“I passed your men easily, they were asleep. It is hard work being a beggar, I suppose.” He grinned disarmingly. “But I did not gain entry; I just wanted to know where it was for future reference,” Talon lied.
“I shall send Kontar to meet with you if I can find out anything,” Mukhwana said.
“I would like to know who the friends of Bahir are, who visit him late at night, if possible.”
Mukhwana nodded. “We shall see what can be done, Heru.” Talon looked at the man, who had given him this name. It meant falcon.
“May Allah protect you, my friend,” Talon said, getting up and leaving a silver coin on the carpet next to his cup.
* * * * *
The fifth evening, as the sun was setting and while he was looking after Rakhsh, Talon noticed that street outside had become unusually quiet. Although the palace compound walls were thick, the noises of the city could still be heard: some hawker shouting his wares, or the sound of horses going by. This evening, however, all was still; it gave Talon a sense of unease.
He decided to see if Abbas was well guarded, although he knew that Panhsj would have taken care of that without his help. Perhaps it was because he wanted to talk to Panhsj that he went into the palace. He entered from the back maidan and then went along passages that would take him to the main hall and up the stairs. The servants had lit the wall sconces, and the dancing light cast strange shadows.
Then he saw the heavy form of Chisisi ahead of him in the dim glow. There was something furtive about the way the man moved, as though he didn’t want to be noticed. This was unusual, because Chisisi normally swaggered about the palace. Now, however, he was slipping along, ahead of Talon, and was carrying a large round basket gingerly with both hands. Talon didn’t remark the basket but he resolved to keep Chisisi in sight as he hurried into the main hall and then climbed the stairs obviously intent upon an errand. He still had not noticed Talon, who walked in silence behind him.
Chisisi was met half way up the stairs by Donkor, one of his henchmen, who nodded as he went past but said nothing. Chisisi seemed to take this for a signal because he grasped the basket tighter and hurried on. Donkor glided down the stairs without noticing Talon and stepped outside, and before the large doors closed behind him, Talon saw Donkor heading towards the main gate. Talon’s interest was now thoroughly piqued. What was Chisisi doing? What intrigue were they up to? He hastened up the stairs, ignoring one of the startled women, who exclaimed indignantly as she drew her veil more closely.
At the top of the stairs there were passages leading off in several directions. Talon was sure that the eunuch had gone towards the master’s bedroom, and he took the short corridor that led to the bedroom of Abbas and Khalidah.
The oil lamp by the door was burning palm oil that was smoking, and here there should have been a guard but there was no one, and Talon felt a chill creep down his neck. He drew his sword and rushed towards the door, which to his surprise opened and out stepped Chisisi. The man was perspiring, and jumped with fright when he saw Talon. His eyes were wide and there was clearly fear mingled with something else in his expression. Was it triumph?
Talon decided to take no chances. “Where are the guards and why are you here?” he demanded. “Guards!” he shouted. “Where is everyone?”
Chisisi seemed so overcome with fear now that his whole body trembled. It was clear he had not expected Talon, and this interfered with whatever he was up to. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out, and then he lurched to the left as though to escape. Talon’s sword came up and the blade settled on Chisisi’s neck; there was a tiny dribble of blood from the place where the razor sharp blade touched the skin.
“You cannot go in there. The …the master is asleep, and cannot be disturbed,” Chisisi said, his voice high with agitation.
Bilal appeared at the end of the corridor, having
run up the stairs. He had heard the shout and came immediately. “What is it, Suleiman, and where are the guards?” he demanded.
Talon did not rest on ceremony. “Bilal, there is something going on. Watch Chisisi. Call for Panhsj. I do not know where the guards are either. I need to go in and see to the master.”
He heard the slip of Bilal’s sword coming out of the sheath. “Go, I will watch him.”
Talon’s eyes never left the face of the eunuch as he pushed the man out of the way and seized the door latch. He glanced at the bed, half expecting to find Khalidah in the room with Abbas and he was ready to go on his knees to ask forgiveness. But the room was empty, other than Abbas. Talon froze with horror.
Coiled on Abbas’s chest was a large snake, its head raised to strike. Abbas was writhing, his face contorted in terrible agony. His color was gray and his eyes were starting from their sockets with horror. He was trying to get away from this nightmarish creature that hovered above him, about to sink its fangs into his face. Talon could now see that the snake had already struck. Abbas’s arms jerked and his mouth moved but no words came.
Talon drove himself to move, but it took a huge effort. His own fear nearly paralyzed him. He was quite sure the creature was deadly, and that it had been placed there to kill Abbas.
In one swift sideways slash with his blade, he struck. The steel sliced the head of the snake even as it moved. The jaws were gaping wide and the fangs exposed as the head flew off the long scaled body and dropped onto the pillow near to its intended victim.
Talon stepped forward and, although he was terrified, he seized the tail of the now convulsing serpent and threw it as far away from the bed as he could. Its body still writhed, twisting as it contorted in the air, and sprayed a thin jet of blood as it went. It landed with a dull thump on the floor in a corner. He leaned over Abbas and jabbed his sword into the snake’s head with its staring eyes and still snapping jaws, and lifted it up, placing it gingerly at the end of the bed.
Assassination in Al Qahira Page 24
