“Then we must use guile,” I said.
CHAPTER 27
It rained that night, which was all to the good. I stood beneath the gnarled branches of a dripping olive tree, studying the house of the richest slave dealer in Chalkedon. Harkan and Batu were at my side, shoulders hunched, wet, miserable and apprehensive.
“The wall is high,” murmured Batu, his deep resonant voice like a rumble of distant thunder.
“And the gods know how many guards he has in there,” said Harkan nervously.
“Six,” I told him. “And another dozen sleeping in the servants’ quarters on the other side of the courtyard.”
“How do you know that?” Harkan’s harsh whisper sounded surprised, disbelieving.
“I spent all evening watching, from the branches of that big oak tree across the street.”
“And no one saw you? No one noticed?”
“This is a very quiet street in a very rich neighborhood. My only trouble was getting past the constables’ patrol down at the foot of the hill. Once I slipped past them there was no one on the street except a fruit vendor and his cart. I waited until he had gone around the corner and then climbed the tree. Up there the leaves were thick enough to keep me hidden. It was fully dark when I came down.”
I heard Batu chuckle in the darkness.
“Is my report satisfactory?” I asked Harkan.
“For a pilgrim,” he grumbled, “you have strange ways.”
We agreed that they would wait out of sight in the deep shadows beneath the olive trees that lined the residential street. They would have to deal with any of the city constables or private guards who might pass by.
“The rain helps us,” I said. “There will be no casual strollers this night.”
“And it discourages the guards on the other side of the wall from roaming the grounds,” Batu added.
I nodded. “If I’m not back by the time the sky begins to lighten, go back to the inn, gather up the rest of the men, and get out of town.”
“You speak as if you were the commander, Orion,” said Harkan.
I grasped his shoulder. “I speak as if I want you and your men to get away safely even if I am captured.”
“I know,” he said. “The gods be with you.”
“They always are,” I replied, knowing that he had no idea of the bitterness behind my words.
“Good luck,” said Batu.
I shook my rain-soaked cloak to make sure it would not hamper my movements, then stepped from under the dubious shelter of the tree. The rain felt cold, almost stinging, although there was barely any wind at all. The wall surrounding the slave dealer’s house was high, with spikes and sharp-edged potsherds embedded in its top. The groundskeepers had cut down any trees growing along the length of the wall. Its whitewashed surface was blank and smooth, offering no handholds.
So I ran from the olive tree, across the brick-paved street, and leaped as high as I could. My sandalled right foot slapped against the wall and I stretched my right arm to its limit. My fingers found the edge of the wall as my body slammed against it almost hard enough to dislodge me. Mindful of the sharp pottery bits and spikes up there, I hung for a moment by the fingertips of both hands, then pulled myself up until my eyes could see the top of the wall. It looked like a little forest of sharp objects.
Carefully I pulled myself up to my elbows and got one leg levered up onto the edge of the wall. There was not much room that wasn’t covered with cutting edges or spikes. The one thing I worried about was the dogs. During my afternoon and evening observation of the house and grounds I saw several large black dogs trotting through the garden or lolling outside the doors, tongues hanging out and teeth big and white. The rain would help; dogs do not like being cold and wet any more than people do, and the steady downpour would deaden my scent. Or so I hoped.
I edged across the jagged potsherds and spikes and lowered myself slowly to the grass. Dropping to one knee, I waited long moments as the rain sluiced coldly down my neck and bare arms and legs. Nothing was moving in the dark courtyard. There were no lights in the servants’ quarters and only one lamp gleaming feebly in the main house, through a window on the ground floor.