“So after dark he’d flown to a meeting he’d set up with the Northmen scum, and sitting safe in his chariot he made an agreement with them. They are to send their army here and Ahmed promised to use his sky chariot to protect them from attack in the open, in case my Lord learned of their approach. When they reached the City, they’re to join with Ahmed’s legions to attack us.
“And he promised that when he’s the master he’ll take the army away to Egypt and leave this country to the Northmen. The City of Kazi a barbarian sty! That’s to be their reward. And it’s uncanny, but he really means to do it, give the country to them!”
“Garbage!” Kamal snorted, then lowered his voice. “I know him better than that. Your story’s a fable.” But as he said it he turned questioningly to his psi aid. It was almost too preposterous to be a lie.
The aid looked at him squarely. “The man left his mind wide open to me while he told it,” he answered flatly. “He told truthfully what he read in Ahmed’s mind, altering nothing and holding nothing back. There is no question about it.”
Kamal scowled thoughtfully for a time. “What is it you want me to do?” he asked at last, and his voice was as hard as his eyes.
“Take Ahmed prisoner for me. Trusted as you are, you can move the men you need close to his apartment. I’ll leave it to your imagination to figure out how; you know the situation much better than I.”
Kamal’s flinty eyes fixed on the consul’s and he made no answer.
“All right,” Draco spat out, “kill him then, if you think he’d be too dangerous as a prisoner. Then announce his crime—treason against the Master—declare yourself commander of his troops, and join me against the Northmen.”
The legionary continued to stare wordlessly at Draco, his eyes glittering now.
“She remains mine,” Draco growled at the unspoken demand, “but you will be our guest from time to time.”
For a moment Kamal still stood motionless, then nodded and drew his sword.
“Dmitri!”
The door opened quickly at his call.
“Kill them in there,” he murmured. “I must be sure there is no leak.”
The orc turned, pulling at his hilt. There were no screams, but they heard the husband grunt, and the woman whimpered briefly. When the orderly reappeared he was wiping his sword on a piece of her gown. As soon as he’d sheathed it, Kamal cut him down.
“No leaks,” he said meaningfully.
The one-handed Artos darted for the door but Draco was on him, thrusting with his short sword.
“No leaks,” Draco husked. “What about him?” He nodded toward Kamal’s psi aid.
Kamal shook his head. “He’s as close to me as my own breath. Whoever kills him answers to me.”
Draco’s response was inward and screened. Already you grow insolent, old friend. I’ll kill him myself when the time comes, and you’ll watch. Then I’ll kill you.
The audience chamber of Timur Karim Kazi had been unused since he’d left to conquer Europe. It was small—six meters square and four high—with walls of glossy obsidian and carpeted with thick black furs so cleverly joined they looked like a single huge pelt. There was only one seat, the throne on its dais, but pillows lay around the other three walls. Tall narrow windows let in light.
So he’s using the Master’s audience chamber already, Kamal thought. That arrogant filth. If he sits on the Master’s throne I’ll kill him here and now.
Draco, sensing his anger and suspecting its cause, did not approach the high seat.
“I’m told you did the job with your own hand and he gave you no trouble,” he said. “I appreciate the gift of Yusuf. I prevailed on him to tell everything he knew. I never imagined the Turk could be so talkative, so co-operative. The Northmen should be leaving their mountains at daybreak. I’ll observe them from the pinnace, which they think of as their protection. The young men who flew it for Ahmed are happy to fly it for me.
“I’m appointing you field commander and leave the final say on tactics to your judgment. I suggest though that you plan to meet the Northmen at least two day’s ride from here.”