There was gloom as they each digested this information. They were trapped, it would seem, in this maze of tunnels, unable to escape the city unless Mukhwana by some miracle managed to arrange a boat for them. It would be unthinkable to try the road, as it was likely that Bahir would be watching the roads south. He would expect them to return to their country estate, if they could.
But what of life whose bitter hungry sea
Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which never more return? Ambition,
love and all the thoughts that burn
We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.
— Oscar Wilde
Chapter 19
Ruin
Talon and Panhsj enlisted Kantor’s help to find the shortest way to Abbas’s palace. Their intent was to find Abbas’s body and that of Bilal, if they were still there, and bury them as soon as possible according to the laws of Islam, for the benefit of their souls. Prayers needed to be said over the body in order for the soul to begin its journey.
Kantor, who knew the tunnels very well, took them to a street near to the palace. Leaving him at the tunnel entrance, they set out for the palace using every bit of darkness for cover. As they moved along the street, there was a distant rumble of thunder and sharp gusts of wind whirled down in between the houses, tossing rags and other debris into the air before dying out.
Soon they stood in the shadows of a side street close to the palace wall. Here they waited and watched to see if there were any signs of activity. All was silent, although there was a pungent smell of burnt wood and other materials in the air which confirmed the fire Mukhwana had talked about.
“It seems deserted,” Talon remarked in a whisper. He was puzzled at the outline of the palace. There was something wrong with what he was seeing. The top stories of the palace could normally be seen from the street, but they were gone; he thought of the fire. He looked up. He sensed the night sky thick with clouds and wondered if it was going to rain.
“We must get in there quickly, before anyone comes back,” Panhsj whispered to Talon.
“Then we go over the wall, and not through the gate.”
Panhsj grunted acknowledgement, and they made their cautious way back to the wall they had formerly clambered over.
Getting back over the wall was more of a scramble as there was no pile of stones to take advantage of on the outside, but they did it silently nonetheless. They lay on the top listening for any noises that might betray another human within the compound. There was a faint sound from the servant’s quarters which both men heard. They slipped down the inside wall and made their way back along the same narrow pathway they had escaped along to the entrance of the kitchens. Cautiously Talon and Panhsj moved into the darkness of the kitchen and listened.
The sound was there again. It was like a moan and then some thumping, followed by silence, then the sound of a struggle and a muffled cry. They looked at one another in the gloom, then as silent as ghosts they both moved towards the sound emanating from the servants’ quarter beyond the kitchen.
As they crept along they heard the sound again and realized what it was. A commotion came from the open doorway of one of the alcoves the servants used for bedrooms. The one oil lamp placed on a ledge illuminated what they had expected. A woman, her clothes half torn off, was lying on a bed mat struggling with a man who himself lacked any clothes below his waist. He was attempting to rape her.
She was gagged, but her struggles were beginning to frustrate the man who, with an angry grunt, sat up and raised his hand to strike her. At that moment she saw Talon and Panhsj and her eyes went wide with surprise as she recognized them.
The man’s hand never made its decent. There was a low “whop” followed by a snick, as Panhsj’s sword swept through the air and sliced it off. The hand jumped off the arm and a small jet of blood followed. Before the shocked man could turn, Panhsj had driven his blade through his heart. Talon leapt forward to haul the man’s body off the woman. It was Anyess.
He ripped off her gag while Panhsj dragged the body away into a corner and grabbed some clothes which he pushed at her to cover her nakedness.
“Don’t make a sound,” Talon whispered urgently to the terrified woman who now looked ready to faint. He turned his back to give her some privacy and to look at the body. It was the second of Chisisi’s henchmen, Donkor. He looked at Panhsj and nodded his approval. Panhsj nodded with satisfaction and wiped his blade on the dead man’s shirt and then went to the door to see if there was anyone else about. The room was lit by a flash of lightning that made Anyess flinch; it was followed by an ominous rumble of thunder overhead.
Turning back to Anyess, Talon whispered, “What happened? Why did you not escape with the others?”
But she was crouching on the mat shaking with silent sobs and he could not make her understand for a couple of moments. She composed herself and looked up at him with tears streaming down her face.
“They murdered the men back here and only a couple of the women escaped. I think they did, but I am not sure. There was so much screaming. I…I was terrified so I hid in the store room, but they came and found me. I have been tied up here since yesterday.”
“Is there anyone else here in this compound?” Talon asked, wondering what might have happened to Lamya.
She nodded. “I am sure of it. They will be by the stables, I think. Donkor was not alone.”
“Do you know what happened to Bilal?” Talon asked hopefully. She shook her head.
Panhsj eased back into the room. “We must leave her and find Abbas,” he whispered.
Anyess looked terrified again. She gave a low wail, placing her hand across her mouth as she did so.
“We cannot leave her here, Panhsj. We can take her to the wall and get her on the top then attend to our business.”
“Then help me hide this piece of dog shit in case others come to have some fun,” Panhsj said, moving towards the corpse.
They took Anyess with them, back through the kitchens, and helped her onto the top of the wall, then left her there lying flat with instructions not to move until they came back for her.
This time they went the other way through the kitchens, but when they came to the stairwell that they had formerly escaped down, they found it blocked with debris and fallen beams. Peering up the well, Talon saw the darkening sky instead of the roof. A drop of rain fell on his upturned face.
They looked for another way to get upstairs. Their new route took them along the passages that lead to the great entrance hall. When they emerged, it was to see a ruin of what had once been two more stories to the palace. Their eyes were now well used to the darkness and they could see enough with the dim light that came down through the large opening where the roof and walls had once been.
The stairs had collapsed into a pile of rubble and they could see that the entire top floor had collapsed onto the other, obliterating any sign of Abbas and, for that matter, Bilal and his men where they were last seen. The stench of burnt flesh hung heavily in the stormy air. There were some charred body remains lying in the darkness but there was no way they could be identified. The stink of charred and rotting flesh was nauseating; death was everywhere, which truth was borne out by the black shapes lying about. The enemy had not even accorded their victims the respect due to the dead. Talon hoped that Bilal had died before being consumed in the flames. Panhsj was trembling with rage at what he was witnessing.
Talon was appalled at the destruction. He heard Panhsj’s sharp intake of breath and knew he too was shocked. Just then Talon felt a drop of rain on his shoulder. It was quickly followed by a bright flash of lightning, then a massive crack of thunder and more hard drops; within a few seconds they were standing in a downpour. The rain made the charred building smell even more cloying. It was time to leave; they could do nothing further this night. Another flash of lightning briefly illuminated the ghostly devastation
all around them. They both shrank back as they witnessed the gaping flesh-stripped skulls of their former comrades and other occupants of the house. The corpses were charred beyond recognition, their teeth bared, their eye sockets burnt into deep holes, and bones gleamed through the burned clothing. Talon shivered.
They needed no encouragement to hurry back to the passage leading to the kitchens. There was nothing they could do for the dead at this time. As they were moving through the kitchens, Talon remembered.
“My Lady wants clothes, and I also want to get my bow,” he whispered.
Panhsj nodded and said, “Get me something to wear too, but be quick. I shall go and see if the woman is still where we told her to wait.”
Talon ran noiselessly down the short corridor to his room, hoping that it had not been ransacked. It was in disarray, but who ever had rummaged through did not take many things. He hastily collected his bow and quiver that were fortunately still tucked away under his pallet. He hurriedly looked around for shawls and other clothes in an alcove nearby. He gathered up what he found, thinking that would have to do for Khalidah and Jasmine. He had tied a large bundle together when he heard a distant shout. At first he thought Panhsj had been discovered, but then realized that it came from outside near the stables. Panhsj had gone in the opposite direction.
He froze, wondering if he might have been mistaken, but the faint shouting continued. There were at least two men and they were yelling at someone else. Leaving his bundle behind but taking his bow and quiver, he eased himself out of the low building and out across the muddy path, to slip under a dense shrub. From here, despite the rain, he had a good view of the stables.
Parting the dripping wet branches he peered into the darkness to try and see what the men had been shouting about. Lightning flashed again and he could just make out a small group of struggling bodies near the horses, which to his surprise were still in their stalls. Perhaps they had been left on the orders of Bahir and his men to be collected at a later day. They had to be looked after; the horses could not be taken away without a couple of guards noticing and this seemed to be the case here.
There was a scream and Talon suddenly recognized the agonized voice of Haytham begging to be spared.
Not waiting any longer Talon sprung up, leaving his bow and charged through the bushes, running as fast as he could towards the men who now had Haytham on the ground and were about to stab him to death. His hands were across his chest for protection with his feet kicking high in the air in a desperate attempt to ward off the inevitable.
Talon ran straight into the first man with the blade of his knife roughly level with the man’s heart. He drove it with a thump into the back of the man as he bent over the screaming boy. The other barely had time to see the menacing shape in front of him and to shout with surprise before Talon’s sword blade had ripped through his neck. His half decapitated head fell over to the side. The corpses both fell away to splash in the mud, leaving Haytham flopping about, still wailing with terror.
Talon cuffed him gently and called over the noise of the pounding rain. “Stop yelling, it’s me, Suleiman. Are there any others about?”
Haytham rolled onto his hands and knees and gaped up at Talon. Then he grabbed him around the legs bleating, “Suleiman, Allah be praised. It is really you? What has happened? Where…where are my Lady and my lord Kazim? Where is everybody?”
Talon extricated himself and hauled the boy to his feet. He calmed down enough to lean, weak and shaken, against the rough wall of the stables. His clothes were soaked and covered with mud, as were those of Talon by now, but Talon could make out no sign of injury.
“Are you hurt?”
The boy shook his head.
The horses nearby were reacting to the smell of blood by dancing restlessly around their stalls, but one nickered at the two men and pawed its stall door with a thump.
Talon glanced over and saw Rakhsh staring out at him. He grasped Haytham by the shoulder and dragged him closer to the stable wall where they had a little shelter from the downpour and where he could reach Rakhsh. There was another flash of lightning and the horse flinched, but Talon rubbed Rakhsh on the neck to reassure him and thought for a moment: perhaps Haytham on Rakhsh might get out of the city undetected whereas the Lady Khalidah would stand no chance.
Turning to Haytham he said urgently, “Haytham, listen. Listen to me. Why did you come back?”
“I came for a horse, Suleiman. I wanted to go south to Oustez Malek. I thought you were all dead,” the boy gasped, wiping his eyes.
“Good boy,” Talon said with some surprise. His estimation of the Haytham’s courage went up another notch. “But are you not injured?”
“I can still ride, Oustez.”
“Take Rakhsh, he knows you, and ride, ride for your life, but not south to Malek. You must go east and find the sultan. Keep going to the east, and ask people to tell you where he is. Tell him,” he paused, “tell him Emir Abbas is dead—murdered by Bahir, but Lady Khalidah and the children are in hiding. Tell him that there is a plot of some kind here in Cairo. I do not know who else is part of it is, but a man called Umarah, I think they call him the Poet, is one of them, the other is Bahir. There is another, who I think is named Al Muntaqim, but tell the sultan he must come back at once. There is danger for him if he delays. He should be prepared for treachery. Do you understand what I have said?” Talon demanded.
Haytham nodded vigorously and rushed to do as he was bid. Talon collected his bow from the bush, and on his return took one of the swords from the dead men, then rifled their pockets and clothing for coin, retrieving a few coppers. Then he gave a hand to Haytham to saddle Rakhsh. The horse was not very pleased to be dragged out into the rain. He did what he was asked of, although he pranced a little and snorted his disquiet. Talon assisted Haytham onto Rakhsh’s back, then he thrust a handful of coins up at him.
“Bribe the guards with this coin to get you out, and when you have found the sultan, which God willing you will, give him the message; after that you must ride for Fayoum. We will be going there soon. Trust no one.” He handed up the money.
Haytham pocketing the coin and a gold dinar that Talon handed to him. Then Talon ran towards the back gate to check whether there was a guard there. Rakhsh and Haytham followed just behind him splashing through the puddles.
There was a guard, but Talon had strung his bow by now; and as the running, shouting man raced towards them with his spear at the ready, Talon loosed an arrow that sped the short distance to strike the man directly in the chest. The rain drowned out the sound of the strike and the man stumbled a few steps and fell forward to die face down without a sound.
Slapping Rakhsh on the rump, Talon urged the boy on. Haytham’s words were lost in the pouring rain but Talon heard the last, “…protect you!”
Boy and horse galloped off down the muddy street and disappeared into the darkness.
Talon stared after the boy for some moments, oblivious of the rain, wondering if he would be able to make the hard ride to find the sultan. He realized he had sent the boy on a dangerous quest that he might not survive. Then he turned and ran back past the dead men to the servants’ quarters, collected the sizeable bundle of clothes he had dropped, and hurried to where he found a very agitated Panhsj waiting for him in the dark.
“What took you so long, Suleiman?” He growled with concern in his tone.
“I ran into Haytham being attacked by the last two men who were guarding the horses. I sent him off to find the sultan on Rakhsh.” He left out the details, but Panhsj understood.
“We should leave. That woman will die of cold if we do not get her back to safety; she has been laying up there for a long time now.”
They finally made it back to the catacombs with a still terrified Anyess. She, shaking with cold and fright, was handed over to the women, who were once again woken up in the dead of night to deal with this new arrival.
The rain had created small rivers out of the underground streams,
making their crossing difficult. Even the tunnels deep underground were not spared the effects of the storm, as water had seeped through the limestone walls and accumulated in dark, muddy puddles.
Khalidah awoke and came into the hall to hear the news; the children slept on despite the disturbance in the main hall. Mukhwana and the two guards came to hear what the returning men had to tell them. It was bleak news for them all, even with the small satisfaction of having killed the last of the traitors. To hear that Haytham was trying to get out of the city and east to find the sultan helped raise their spirits, and Talon was glad to see Khalidah’s shoulders lift and brace courageously as she digested this news. She thanked Talon for the bundle of clothes, as it had become decidedly cooler with the damp in this underground hiding place.
Panhsj and Talon watched with concern as she walked slowly back towards her bed area. Her shoulders were bowed and her head was down; it was clear that she was weeping. They looked at one another helplessly; there was nothing they could do to ease the grief that tore at her.
Whose was the right and the wrong?
Sing it, O funeral song,
With a voice that is full of tears,
And say that our broken faith
Wrought all this ruin and scathe,
In the Year of a Hundred Years.
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Chapter 20
A Promise Kept
Talon knew he had one more task to perform while they waited for Mukhwana to find a boat for their escape. He decided not to ask Panhsj to come with him; although he trusted his new found friend to fight his way out of any trouble, he wanted to do this alone. Talon intended to go to Bahir’s palace and leave a message for the enemy that would be unmistakable; but it had to be done without anyone else knowing its origin.
While everyone was occupied during the second evening, huddled over their food in the faint smoky light of the oil lamps and wishing that the dank and wet tunnels were less cold, he slipped away unseen. He deliberately left his own sword behind to throw people off the scent, and then simply vanished from sight. No one remarked his absence until he had been gone for at least an hour and then nobody thought he would have left the safety of the tunnels, for his sword was still by his sleeping blanket.
Assassination in Al Qahira Page 28
