A Covenant of Thieves

by Christian Velguth

  Don’t think about that, she told herself firmly. She couldn’t afford to lose herself again. She had to remain present. Watch for opportunities, like Booker said.

  “I don’t suppose anyone still has their device?” she asked.

  “Confiscated my watch,” Booker replied. “And my lenses.”

  “Nope,” was all Rick said.

  Estelle sighed. She hadn’t really expected anything else, but it had been worth asking.

  “Hey,” Booker said suddenly, sounding curious. “Did you find it? The Ark?”

  “Gone,” Estelle said, feeling the disappointment wash over her all over again. “The guardian moved it, apparently. After Berhanu and my father spoke with him.”

  “That’s his story, anyway,” Rick added. “Personally, I won’t be convinced until I tear that church apart.”

  “I don’t think he was lying…”

  “Damn,” Booker sighed. “I mean, it’s not really why I came, but it would’ve been cool to see. At least the rebels won’t get their hands on it.”

  Estelle was only half-listening. She’d suddenly remembered the strange meeting with the Kohen. Tentatively she put a hand into her right pocket -- and found a small hard object. She withdrew it and found herself holding a marble-sized stone. It was smooth and cool to the touch, almost like ice in the close heat. In the faint light it flashed a bright blue.

  Why had the Kohen given this to her? And why had he seemed so insistent upon making sure that no one but the two of them knew about it?

  A loud clunk came from the far end of the box. Estelle jumped, fumbling the stone and dropping it to the floor with what seemed like an ear-splitting bang. A seam of light appeared, white-hot, as the door began to draw open. Estelle scrambled for the stone, suddenly positive that the rebels would steal it if they saw it and determined to not let that happen. She snatched it up as the door squealed on its hinges, was about to shove it back into her pocket -- then thought better of it and stuffed it into her bra.

  The door swung open, forcing her to narrow her eyes against the glare. She could just make out a figure standing in the entrance, backlit. They seemed to stare at her for a moment, then strode forward and reached down. Estelle raised an arm defensively, but it was simply grabbed in a tight grip and used to haul her up.

  “Out! Now!” the man barked as he dragged her out of the crate, her feet stuttering along the floor. “K’ebero will speak to you!”

  The name sent a wave of ice water through her veins, and she heard the echo of all those voices that had been chanting it back in Axum.

  Before she could process any further, Estelle was flung from the box. She fell to her knees and rolled, hard ground and sharp pebbles reaching up to bite her. She came to a rest on her stomach, face in the dirt. Just let me lie here, a voice whispered in her head. It was almost comfortable. The air was less stale, and there was a pleasant breeze that caressed her skin. Just leave me alone.

  Nearby she could hear commotion, more doors being opened. Then Booker’s wordless shouts and grunts as he was pulled out of his own cell. She raised her head to see him hit the dirt beside her, going only to his hands and knees.

  “Up! Up!” snapped the same man, and more voices joined his, shouting in Amharic. Hands grabbed Estelle beneath the arms and pulled her to her feet.

  Shipping containers stood in rows and stacks, forming walls on all sides, some tall enough to block the sun and cast a long shadow over everything. There was a sort of dirt yard here, with a single alley leading in and out between the stacked containers. Two men stood guard at the mouth of the alley, one facing in and the other facing out, both bearing rifles. There were rifles slung over the backs of the two men holding her and Booker as well. Estelle caught sight of a fifth man, climbing a ladder that had been leaned against the side of the container she had just been pulled out of. At the top he stepped onto the roof and opened the door of the container stacked atop hers, which had been set back slightly to create a narrow platform.

  The door had barely swung open when a form came flying out of it, colliding with the man and sending him tumbling off the roof. He fell hard in the dirt; Rick landed on his feet beside him, already crouching to grab the man’s rifle.

  “Don’t!” Booker shouted.

  The man holding Estelle suddenly whipped her around, an arm slithering across her throat. Something cold and hard pressed against her temple, and Estelle’s heart tripped over itself.

  “Drop it!” the man shouted. Rick had freed the rifle from its owner and raised it in the same instant that Estelle was swung around. “Drop it or I kill her!”

  “Take me to Kai,” Rick demanded.

  “Please,” Estelle managed. She could barely catch breath to speak. “Please -- Rick --”

  He wasn’t looking at her, but was instead glaring at the man holding the gun to her head. He had one boot pressed down on the back of the guard he’d ambushed. The rifle didn’t drop. “I want to see Kai. Right now.”

  “Álvarez,” Booker growled. “This isn’t the moment. Just drop it.”

  The rifle didn’t drop.

  Estelle squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Show me that Kai’s alive or I --”

  “Your friend is in no danger. He will be, however, unless you put that rifle down right now.”

  The voice was a woman’s, and Estelle recognized it at once. She opened her eyes to see Rick -- finally -- lowering the rifle, gaze fixed on something behind Estelle. She couldn’t turn to look, but a moment later the woman appeared beside her. She was short and thin as a reed -- wiry, but toned, with clear muscle definition to her exposed arms. She wore a militaristic uniform that looked a size too large. Nothing about her looked particularly threatening, and yet Estelle could feel the way the man holding her tensed, the way his breathing changed.

  “And you are?”

  Estelle caught a ghost of a smile on the woman’s face. “You know who I am,” she said coolly.

  Rick stared at her for a moment, then smirked. “K’ebero, huh? They, ah, got a few details wrong down south.”

  “I imagine it soothes their egos. Now. Put down the rifle.”

  “How do I know Kai isn’t dead already?”

  K’ebero shrugged, hands on her hips. “You don’t. You will just have to trust me.”

  Rick snorted.

  “Do you trust me when I say that, if you do not drop that rifle in the next five seconds, I will force you to watch this woman be skinned alive?”

  K’ebero spoke as if she were commenting on the weather. Estelle felt her head suddenly swell like a balloon, and was certain she was about to faint. It was almost a welcome prospect. Booker said something from the far end of a long tunnel, and then the moment passed, and she was blinking away spots. Rick was staring at K’ebero, no sign of a smirk on his face.

  “Yeah, I do.” He tossed the rifle aside and stepped away from the man beneath his boot, raising his hands.

  Estelle would have sagged with relief, but the arm around her throat would have choked her out.

  K’ebero strode forward and helped the humiliated guard to his feet. He muttered something, not meeting her eyes. K’ebero put a hand on his shoulder and said something in return. It must have been comforting, because the man stood a bit taller, expression brightening slightly. He looked like a child being let off the hook. Estelle heard the guard holding her mutter something beneath his breath.

  Faster than Estelle could track, a knife appeared in K’ebero’s hand, and then it was in the man’s belly. Before his eyes had even widened it was out again, and K’ebero was stepping back, wiping the bloody blade on one pant leg. The guard gaped at her, finally letting out a soft gurgle, and then fell back to the ground. As if catching up, a gout of blood spurted from the wound. He twitched once.

  “His life is on your head,” K’ebero said to Rick, not looking at him as she sheathed her knife. “Do not test me again or I will not hesitate to claim yours in return.” She raised her eyes to meet his.
“And I promise you it will not be half so quick.”

  A bubble of silence seemed to have expanded outward from the body bleeding on the ground. Estelle couldn’t pull her eyes from it. She had been there when her father died, but this was so sudden, so violent, and all to make a point. The man’s face still bore a look of surprise, though his eyes were glassy and empty.

  K’ebero turned to survey each of them in turn, her gaze lingering for a moment on Estelle. Then, at a word, she called over one of the two men guarding the alleyway to watch Rick. Determined not to make the same mistake as his predecessor, this man kept his rifle trained on Rick at all times and remained just beyond arm’s reach.

  “Come,” K’ebero said abruptly. She turned on her heel and marched across the dirt yard. The arm around Estelle’s neck was finally removed. The pistol at her head prodded hard against her spine, and she stumbled forward, allowing herself to be ushered out of the dirt yard along with Booker and Rick.

  After a few turns the alley opened up to reveal a wide bowl-like depression in the shadow of a large hill. There was an outer perimeter of solar panels, their cables leading to tents and canopies where more of K’ebero’s rebels worked. Rifles and pistols cracked at a shooting range off to the left, a row of soldiers taking aim at rusted barrels and stacks of sandbags. There were more shipping containers as well, some of which appeared to have been converted into barracks, armories, and common spaces.

  “This is enormous,” Booker muttered, staring around with bloodshot eyes.

  “I’ve seen bigger,” Rick said, before his guard shouted at both of them to be quiet.

  They followed K’ebero towards the center of the camp, where the largest canopy had been set up beside some sort of exercise yard. Soldiers, men and women both, tossed large rubber tires to each other and swung welded hunks of metal as improvised free weights. Between the exercise yard and the canopy was a stretch of dirt where two armed soldiers stood guard beneath the hot sun. What they were guarding, Estelle couldn’t say.

  “Open it,” K’ebero barked as she approached them. Both men immediately saluted, then turned and crouched down to grasp large metal rings that appeared to be set into the ground. They pulled, and a rectangular section of the ground slid back with a squeal to reveal a deep pit, and Estelle saw it wasn’t the ground they’d moved but a dirt-covered segment of metal -- the roof of a buried shipping container.

  “Bring him up,” K’ebero said.

  Him?

  At the edge of the container the two guards crouched, reaching down. Estelle heard a scuffling and a muffled voice, and then Berhanu was hauled up from out of the pit. She gasped. His face was so puffy it was nearly unrecognizable, and his suit was soaked through with sweat and stains of something darker. As soon as his feet touched solid ground he collapsed, too weak even to catch himself before falling on his face.

  “What did you do to him?” Estelle demanded before she could stop herself. Her guard shoved her with a growl.

  “Loosened his tongue,” K’ebero said, looking down at Berhanu with something too cold to be pity. “Or tried to. He is resilient. More so than I would have expected from an instrument of the oppressors.” She stepped forward, grabbing Berhanu by one shoulder and lifting him up onto his knees as easily as if he were made of dried straw. She turned his face towards Estelle and the others. “There,” she said in a loud voice. “You see? Your friends are still alive. Now tell me what you have done with it.”

  Berhanu’s face was pointed towards Estelle, but it was impossible to tell if he was actually seeing them. The swelling of his bruises had reduced his eyes to a pair of glimmering slits. Looking at him made Estelle feel as if she had just received a blow to her own gut. He was barely recognizable.

  “Tell me,” K’ebero repeated, more insistently. She shook Berhanu, his head lolling on his neck. “Tell me where it is!”

  “I don’t think he can,” Booker said. His voice was taught with anger. “You’ve practically killed him. He probably can’t even hear you.”

  K’ebero glanced at Booker, amber eyes flashing in the sun, then released Berhanu and stepped back. “Then he is worthless.” She drew a pistol from its holster on her thigh.

  “No!” Estelle screamed, starting forward. She was caught by one arm and yanked roughly back. “Please, just tell us what you want!”

  “You know what I want,” K’ebero said coolly, still aiming down her pistol at the curator’s head. “The Ark of the Covenant.”

  “But we don’t know,” Estelle began desperately.

  K’ebero hissed, baring her teeth and turning to glare at her. “Stop lying. It will only get you killed. I know why you are here, my eyes have been watching you and your thieving friends since you stepped off of that train. The only reason I allowed you to pass through the mountains and enter my city was because I was certain you had come back for it, that you would lead me to it. Now. You will tell me where you have hidden it.” She drew back the hammer on her pistol. “Or he will die.”

  “We didn’t take it anywhere,” Booker insisted.

  “But you told the old man to hide it, didn’t you? The last time you were here. The last time he was here.” She gestured with her pistol at Berhanu. “Where?”

  Estelle shook her head. “Please -- you’re right, we did come looking for the Ark, b-but we don’t know where it is -- we thought it would still be at the church.”

  The soldiers in the exercise yard had stopped their activities and gathered to watch the events unfold. K’ebero’s eyes narrowed, locking onto Estelle. “Why should I believe you?”

  Rick snorted, and when he spoke he almost sounded bored. “If we knew where the Ark had been hidden, do you think we would’ve bothered coming to this shit hole? We would’ve gone straight there instead of stopping at the church.” He took a step forward, ignoring the warning shout of his guard. “Look, I empathize with your situation, and I admire your passion. You’re clearly a woman who knows what she wants and will do what needs to be done to get it. So, you want to find the Ark?” He spread his arms. “You’ll need someone who knows how to track things down.”

  “What are you doing?” Booker growled.

  “Reading the room,” Rick said without taking his gaze from K’ebero.

  “And why,” K’ebero said slowly, “would I need your help? I have an entire army dedicated to my cause.”

  “Well, if that really was enough, you’d have found the Ark already. Plus, and I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but the military is closing in. Those weren’t fireworks we heard last night.”

  K’ebero’s lip curled. “I’ve noticed. They are distracted, their attentions focused exactly where I want them to be.”

  “But how long until they realize you’re not there? How long until they come back to Axum? An army might have the manpower to turn up the Ark, eventually, but it takes a while to get mobilized. By the time you’ve done a blind search of Axum, you’ll be surrounded by the jack-booted fist of the oppressors. But --” Rick raised a finger. “If you take a small team, led by a specialist -- if you allow me to search for the Ark on your behalf, you’ll be able to get what you want and move your army out of here before the military comes knocking.”

  Jeers and mutters of disbelief came from the guards and crowd of spectating soldiers, which was steadily growing. K’ebero’s curled lip became a sneer. “Allow you to search for the Ark,” she repeated. “On my behalf.”

  “And with your supervision, of course,” Rick said magnanimously. “I’m not an idiot. I know we’re not friends. But that doesn’t mean we can’t help each other out.”

  Estelle stared at him, wishing she could see through his skull. What was he playing at? Did he actually think he’d be able to find the Ark and steal it out from under K’ebero’s nose, or was this all just a ploy for time?

  K’ebero seemed to be running the same calculations. “And what would you stand to gain from this?”

  “Well, my life, obviously. And the life of my friend, Kai
. Big guy, bearded. I’m sure you’ve got him tucked away somewhere.”

  K’ebero raised an eyebrow, looking almost amused. “And them?” She nodded towards Estelle and Booker.

  Rick shrugged. “They’re harmless. Couple of tourists, really, thought it would be an adventure to go backpacking through an active warzone. Idiots, but they pay well. I’m sure you could squeeze a few donations to the cause out of them before sending them on their way.”

  Estelle wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It didn’t exactly sound like an endorsement, but at least he wasn’t leaving them completely to the whims of the rebels.

  K’ebero didn’t respond right away. Her fingers drummed audibly on the butt of her pistol as she considered his words. Around her, the soldiers and guards looked various shades of thoughtful and dubious. K’ebero glanced down at Berhanu’s huddled form. With an awful start Estelle thought he wasn’t breathing, until she realized his breath was almost too shallow to notice.

  “Please,” she began. “Can’t we give him some water, at least?”

  K’ebero looked at her, but didn’t answer. Instead she walked up to Rick, coming within only a few inches of him. They were nearly of a height, and she peered into his eyes as if trying to see what was written on them.

  “I know you are lying,” she said finally, in a soft voice. “I know they are not tourists, and you are not their guide. I know that outsiders already came once, looking for the Ark. I do not believe you did not come to do the same. To steal it out from under me.”

  “Why I’m really here is irrelevant,” Rick said. “You’ve caught us. The ball is in your court now. I’m just trying to help everyone walk away happy.”

  “Then tell me,” she began, but stopped abruptly, turning. For a moment Estelle couldn’t tell what had interrupted her. Then she heard a soft, dry wheezing. It was coming from Berhanu. He was trying to speak.