“How on earth would he be of use to her?”
He shook his head slowly. “Devil if I know. But he is Prussian nobility. She might suppose he has wealthy relatives somewhere who could pay a ransom or pull some strings to get her out. Or, if she’s really up against it, she knows he wanted the bloody Cross, too. She could seize the chance to sell it outright to him now and be done with the damned thing. Believe me, she’s a far more clever woman than people give her credit for.”
“But how do you know what she might do? You can’t read her mind, and it isn’t as if you were all that close…” I trailed off. “Oh, Gabriel.”
He had the grace to look uncomfortable.
“You said you hadn’t been with another woman for five years,” I said accusingly.
“That may have been a technicality,” he acknowledged.
“A technicality? But Countess Thurzó is beautiful! And Rowan is so…so…”
“Thanks for that. It wasn’t that extensive of a disguise.”
I shuddered. “But you had those gruesome false teeth.”
He grinned. “That was the most amusing part. You see, I figured quite early on that Countess Thurzó wasn’t above doing whatever it took to get information for herself and that ratty brother of hers. I thought I’d see exactly how far she was prepared to go. It was quite instructive.”
“I’ll just bet.”
The grin deepened to a real smile, his blue eyes shining with amusement. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.”
“Jealous! Heavens, Gabriel, you do have a high opinion of yourself. I assure you, if we compared our activities of the last five years, you would have much more cause to be jealous than I would.”
“Is that right?” He moved a fraction closer to me, but before he could say a word, Halliday approached.
“I’ve got very good news, Evie. I’m all finished with the Jolly Roger. Went back to tighten the prop and she’s right as rain now. I say, am I interrupting?”
“Nothing I’m interested in continuing,” I said sweetly.
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Halliday, but his tone was cool. “Didn’t think you diplomat chaps liked to get your hands dirty,” he said with a nod to Halliday’s grease-streaked palms.
Halliday flushed a little and fished a handkerchief out of his pocket to scrub at his hands.
“Don’t mind Gabriel,” I told him. “He’s been in a very bad mood for five years.”
Sheikh Hamid joined us then, his expression grave. “Trouble is on the horizon, my brother,” he said in a low voice to Gabriel. He rattled off a quick explanation in Arabic and strode off, leaving Gabriel to explain.
“It’s the deserters, the fellows who were French Foreign Legion. They’ve apparently set up camp in an old Turkish outpost, and this morning they attacked a village of Mezrab Bedouin. The entire place was put to the sword. There were no survivors.”
I turned away, sickened, but there was more horror to come.
“There is fear this village will be next.”
“Gabriel, these people are shepherds, for heaven’s sake!”
He glanced around, pitching his voice low. “The deserters found a European woman wandering the desert, half-dead from dehydration and claiming she’d been robbed by her Bedouin guides.”
“Countess Thurzó!” I breathed.
“Based on the description of the lady, there’s no question. After we escaped his clutches, Daoud must have decided to take what he knew he could get his hands on. The countess was no doubt expecting him to return with results of his ‘interrogation,’” he said, his mouth tightening on the word. “Instead, he must have robbed her then and turned her out into the desert to make her own way out. Or she’s still got the Cross and has concocted the whole story just to get deserters to help her get out of the desert. Personally, I like the notion that she might actually have been robbed and left for dead.”
“Considering her willingness to see us dead, you’ll pardon me for not shedding violent tears at the notion,” I retorted. “So, the deserters are outraged that a European lady has been treated so shabbily by the natives and they’re out for blood, is that it?”
“More or less.”
“And it doesn’t matter to them at all that the Bedouin who left her for dead are not the same as the villagers they plan to attack?”
“Evie, to most Europeans a Bedu is a Bedu. They don’t bother to split hairs about it.”
His words were matter-of-fact, but his expression was thoughtful.
“Hamid and his men are going to fight, aren’t they?”
“Hamid doesn’t want to give the deserters time to recover from this morning’s attack. They suffered some losses when they destroyed the Mezrab village, and Hamid wants to strike while they’re still recovering.”
I took a deep breath. “Then we have to help him.”
“You have no idea what you’re asking.”
“I do,” I told him firmly. “I worked in a convalescent hospital, you’re forgetting. Oh, I tried to stay away from the worst of it, but I saw plenty. It was vile, and I can’t even imagine inflicting that sort of horror on defenceless women and children. If there is anything at all we can do to help, we must.”
Sheikh Hamid returned in time to hear my last remark, followed by Halliday, who had obviously been brought up to speed. “It may be too late for that,” Hamid began.
I cut in sharply. “We can’t leave this village unprotected,” I said, digging in my heels. “We’ve come here and brought trouble among them. It’s our responsibility to protect them if they are in danger.”
Hamid gave me a broad smile. “Lady, these are my Bedu. They could fight demons and leave nothing to send back to hell. But,” he added, turning to Gabriel, “this is a winter camp. There are elderly people here, and women and children. These are not just warriors. If the deserters have sufficient men—”
“Then we must act,” Halliday said quickly. “We ought to assess the threat properly and if it is indeed a threat, we must direct attention away from this place.”
“And how do you propose we do that?” Gabriel asked in a slow drawl.
“I can take up my plane and fly over to see what sort of numbers they have. A sort of reconnaissance mission,” he said. He spoke calmly but there was a barely contained excitement simmering just under the surface. I wondered how often a junior diplomat got to engage in acts of derring-do. No doubt he thought himself a great champion of the noble Bedouin. The fact that his attitude might be construed as patronising seemed not to occur to him.
“I think it’s a smashing idea,” I said. “But I’m coming with you.”
Halliday smiled regretfully. “Nothing I’d like more, but I’ve only got the one seat.”
“I meant in the Jolly Roger. You said she’s fine now, and I haven’t taken her up since Venice. I miss the old crate.”
Halliday hesitated. “Evie, I hardly think, that is to say…” He turned to Gabriel. “Mr. Starke, as her husband, surely you possess the authority to deal with Mrs. Starke. It’s really most unsuitable for a lady to even consider such a thing.”
Gabriel shrugged. “Evie will do as she pleases.”
I blinked at him. I had half expected him to bully me out of flying just to spite me.
“Thank you, Gabriel.”
Halliday was spluttering. “But surely, Mr. Starke, you understand the danger.” He lowered his voice. “The remnants of that Turkish outpost may have some anti-aircraft artillery we don’t yet know about.”
Gabriel turned to me with a bland smile. “Isn’t that what all those aces used to call a ‘beautiful death’?”
I put my fists on my hips. “You’re both being completely outrageous. Well, not so much you, Mr. Halliday. You’re just being a man, and an Englishma
n at that. You’ve spent too much time with traditional, old-fashioned girls. You need a modern girl to bring you up to speed. But that is quite enough out of you, Gabriel. You were right before—I shall do exactly as I please and it doesn’t concern you in the least.”
With that, I turned on my heel and strode to my plane. I didn’t have my flying leathers with me, but fortunately Aunt Dove and I were of a size and I slipped into hers. “Shall I come with you, dear?” she asked.
But she was lounging on a pile of woolen cushions and wearing a loose Bedouin robe, drawing peacefully on a nargileh while Arthur twittered happily in the background.
“Not a bit of it. You look perfectly relaxed, and you ought to rest. That flight from Damascus must have been frightful.”
She shrugged, but I noticed she moved her shoulders a little stiffly. She puffed on her pipe as I changed and nibbled a few dried dates. “You know, I begin to see what Jane Digby was thinking in coming to live like this. It’s quite restful in its own way. If they could only mix a good whisky and water, I’d be tempted to stay.”
“Not an option for us,” I told her, dropping a quick kiss to her cheek. “The Bedouin seem to think the whole desert is going to be afire soon with resistance to the French since Faisal has declared independence.”
She puffed again. “That’s something I should like to see. It’s about bloody time some of these fellows took their own country back. We’ve had our claws in these places long enough.”
I left before she had a chance to work herself up into an anti-Empire rant and ran smack into John Halliday. He was pulling on his flying helmet and he gave me a regretful smile.
“I don’t suppose there’s any point in asking you to reconsider?”
I grinned. “None. In fact, I’ll race you.”
I pounded towards my plane and he ran for his. Hamid and his kin, having been given a short tutorial on how to start a propeller, were standing at the ready. I stepped onto the wing and swung myself into the cockpit. I was just settling my goggles into place when I felt the Jolly Roger give a shudder. I whipped my head around to find Gabriel standing in the rear cockpit, tossing a hundred-pound ballast bag over the side as if it weighed no more than a feather.
“What the devil are you doing in my plane?” I demanded. “Get out at once.”
“Not a chance,” he said, settling himself in. He buckled his safety belt and gave me a dry smile.
I looked to Halliday, who gave me a shrug and a thumbs-up. I turned back to Gabriel.
“Have you ever flown before?”
“Are you afraid I’m going to fall out?”
“I’m not that lucky. Now listen up, you can’t make sudden movements back there. Anything too quick could upset the Jolly Roger. She only weighs thirteen hundred pounds and if you start bouncing around, we’ll be upside down before you can blink. So sit down and be quiet and let me do what I do.”
He gave me a meek thumbs-up and I turned back to the front. Halliday’s plane was already fired up, and I waved him on to take off first. He hesitated then rolled out to shouts and ululations from the villagers.
I followed, lifting off smoothly just after Halliday. He had done a bang-up job on fixing her. The Jolly Roger was rising as sweetly as she ever had, and for a moment I gave myself up to the sheer joy of flying. I took her nose up, not too sharply because she had been known to stall if she didn’t like the incline, but Halliday had already climbed quite high. He led us over a few ridges of rocky hills to the east, and a long, flat sandy plain dotted with brown bushes lightly ruffled in pale green. Spring in the desert.
We passed over another ridge of hills, and just as we topped the rise, bullets screamed out from the ground, strafing past us. One hit the back of Halliday’s machine, and he immediately put her in a climb, just steep enough to get himself out of danger but not so sharp to stall. I followed suit and came up next to him as we levelled off.
He was mouthing something excitedly, but I pantomimed that we had indeed found the deserters.
They were firing furiously at us, but the bullets fell far short, and we banked sharply back towards the village, circling a few times in wide arcs. Gabriel hung over the edge, peering down at the outpost, noting the details, and when he gave me a thumbs-up, I motioned to Halliday that we should start back.
We landed without incident, and as soon as we killed the engines, Halliday jumped from his machine to give me a hand down.
“I say, that was jolly exciting,” he said, his eyes alight.
I grinned. “How’s your crate?”
He gave his plane a rueful look. “Sheared the aileron cable,” he told me. “It’s a bloody mercy I made it back at all.”
He looked abashed at his language, but I grinned. “Never mind. I promise I heard worse every day in flight school. Can you fix her?”
He shrugged. “If I can find a bit of cable, it’s simple enough. Without it, I’m grounded. Still, it’s been a devilish good plane, although nothing as pretty as yours,” he added with an admiring glance at the Jolly Roger. She was rather beautiful, I thought, her slender black wings shimmering in the desert sun.
Gabriel gave us both a long, level look then strode off to find Hamid.
“Is there something amiss with Mr. Starke?” Halliday asked, his brow furrowing slightly.
I looked to where Gabriel was having an intense conversation with Hamid. It seemed that Hamid was pressing him and Gabriel was refusing something. Their expressions were grimly similar.
I shrugged. “Heavens, I don’t know. Just because you’re married to a man doesn’t mean you understand him.”
He flushed faintly. “I say, Evie, it’s all rather complicated with Mr. Starke in the picture—That is to say—” He looked distinctly uncomfortable and I put my hand up.
“Never mind, John. My marital entanglements seem to be taxing your diplomatic skills to the utmost. Now, let’s go and find Aunt Dove and see what mischief she’s got up to while we’ve been gone.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
We found Aunt Dove and ate a quick meal, but it soon became apparent that the coming clash with the French deserters had heightened the atmosphere to a fever pitch. Nerves were taut and excitement thrummed in the air. Gabriel found me as I emerged from Aunt Dove’s tent.
“Where is Aunt Dove?”
I nodded towards the tent. “Inside. Reading to Arthur.”
He blinked. “She’s reading to the parrot?”
“Yes, the Q’uran. She said it’s only fair since he heard Mass in Rome.”
He snorted, and held up his hand as I started to explain. “I don’t want to know. But I’m glad she’s out of the way. Hamid and his men have just about finished their preparations. They mean to attack at dusk and take the deserters by surprise.”
My heart thudded uncomfortably as I glanced at the sky and its lowering sun. “An hour, then?”
“Give or take. Evie—” he began.
“Oh, don’t. I can’t bear scenes, you know that. Besides, you’re not going without me. I want to help.”
“Out of the question,” he said flatly. “In fact, if you give me trouble about this, I will tie you up and dump you in a tent until I’m back. There’s not a Bedouin in this place who would cut you free, either. Remember, you’re my property as far as they’re concerned,” he warned.
I stepped up to stand toe-to-toe with him. “Don’t feed me that rot, Gabriel. I’m certainly not your property, and I have a suspicion that the women would be most inclined to see my point when I explain that I might well be able to save a son or two.”
He narrowed his eyes. “How do you intend to do that?”
“By doing precisely what I did earlier today—flying over the outpost. Those deserters can’t resist shooting at an aeroplane, even if it’s out of range. Every rifle aimed at the Jolly
Roger is one less aimed at a Bedouin.”
He fell silent a moment, and I didn’t press the point. I simply let him think it over, and to my astonishment, he gave a grudging nod.
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Gabriel! Do you mean it?”
“I must be mad, but yes.” He gave a heavy sigh as I hurtled myself at him, throwing my arms about his neck.
“Oh, you won’t be sorry! Heavens, I don’t know why I’m thanking you because I was going to do it, anyway, but it will make it so much easier not having to sneak around—” I broke off, uncomfortably aware that my arms were still looped about his neck, his face inches from mine, his lips so very close.
I stepped down from my tiptoes, pulling my arms away and shoving my hands in my pockets.
“Good thinking, pet,” he said, his eyes mocking. “Unless you’d like to indulge in a bit of marital congress before sending me off to face possible death at the hands of the enemy?”
“Of course not. And don’t be vulgar,” I said automatically. But even as I refused, I realised I did not entirely mean it.
He gave me a quick nod and a smile and strode off then, disappearing into a tent. One of Sheikh Hamid’s men gave a signal, a cry of summoning, and within moments all of the warriors of the tribe had assembled. They carried ancient rifles and some of their bandoliers were only half-filled with bullets, but they were a magnificent sight, standing at the edge of the camp, their saddled horses nearby, draped in tasselled finery and tossing their heads as they stamped their feet impatiently. They were as ready to go as the men were, but there was some sort of ceremony that had to be observed first. Several of the men came forward in turn to speak briefly, and as they spoke I kept a watchful eye on the sun. If it sunk too far, I’d be flying blind on the way back, and I slipped away from the edge of the crowd to find Aunt Dove seated in front of her tent, Arthur’s cage hanging from a tent pole beside her. She was watching with rapt interest, and I almost regretted telling her I was going. The last thing I wanted was to worry her.
City of Jasmine Series, Book 2 Page 27
