‘We haven’t had word from Misr yet. There hasn’t been time.’ The emperor was almost pleading. This wasn’t a conversation between equals. ‘I don’t know what to make of the Sea People. We’ve never heard of them before, and their story is unlikely.’
‘Perhaps your spies are not as all-seeing as you wish they were. Still, we are missing one book. Is there no chance of retrieving it?’
‘Akisi said the monk threw it into the sea. It’s lost, I tell you.’
‘You shouldn’t take the word of either of those madmen. Find out where it went overboard. And if this affects our plans, delays them in any way, there will be a price to pay.’
‘You dare to threaten me?’
‘This isn’t the theatre, Musorewa. Your pomp and your palaces might frighten the natives, but your smoke-and-mirrors act doesn’t scare me. I can threaten you all I like. You can’t hurt me.’
The emperor turned away. The picture flickered and spun.
‘Give me the book,’ the man said. ‘Let me see what we have to work with. Hopefully it’ll be enough.’
‘You’ve offered me nothing but toys and promises. I want to see something real. Something that I can use.’
‘Over and above what you’ve already been shown? Do you have so little faith in me? I thought you were better than that, a man of vision and determination. All you want is signs and wonders.’
‘It’s not me you have to worry about. Akisi was just a symptom of a wider disease. He thinks what all my other ministers are thinking: we’re giving too much to you. Much too much. I am emperor, and it causes unrest when they hear that I defer to you.’
‘Then you should look to your own back, Your Imperial Highness. Mine is quite safe. Give me the book.’ Part of the shroud came forward. No hand was visible, but the book moved away from the emperor.
The image moved with it. The man became more distinct, and finally there was an image of what lay under the hood. Two glowing points of light.
Benzamir was surrounded by his friends.
‘Master!’
He was sitting up, clutching at Said’s arm, wide-eyed and gasping for breath.
‘Master, you cried out.’
‘Did I? Sorry. Shock, surprise.’
Alessandra pressed a cup of dark wine into his hands, and he took a gulp, not rightly caring what it was. After he swallowed, he steadied himself. They looked expectantly at him.
‘They’re here. My enemies are right here.’
CHAPTER 32
CLOSE TO MIDNIGHT, Benzamir was sitting alone in the inner courtyard of the guest quarters. Head low, back hunched, he played with his fingers in his lap, picking at his nails.
He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t see the grey figure come up beside him, only noticed the sudden shift in weight along the length of the bench.
He was up and in a defensive stance in an instant, right hand high and ready to strike out.
‘Master? Are you all right?’
Benzamir looked up. Wahir was on the balcony parapet, leaning against the wall, watching over him.
He dropped his arms by his side. ‘Why aren’t you in bed?’
‘A servant shouldn’t sleep while his master is awake. It isn’t done.’
‘Wahir, get some rest. I need you alert tomorrow, not dragging your feet around like a zombie.’
‘A what?’
‘One of the living dead. Partial to fresh brains.’
‘Right.’ Wahir swung his feet off the stonework and stood. ‘You need to sleep too.’
‘I’ll come up soon.’
He made sure Wahir disappeared behind the curtain and finally got around to apologizing.
‘Sorry for jumping. I was lost in thought.’
‘A rare quality for a man,’ she said, ‘but I don’t think you should be applauded for it.’
He recognized her immediately, and found himself completely tongue-tied. He shifted from one foot to the other and back like a fool.
‘My lady,’ he said finally.
‘You’re staring again, just like you did from the window of that cheap boarding house.’
‘And again, sorry. I didn’t mean to.’
‘Didn’t you? Why did you then?’
‘It was the elephant, the soldiers, the three of you in the cart. It looked like a fascinating story.’ Benzamir regained his composure. The suddenness of her appearance, the abrupt closeness of her: it had disoriented him. ‘That’s why I sent Said down to find out all about you.’
‘Did you learn anything interesting?’
‘Yes. I found out that a minister of state had stolen the emperor’s property and will face trial tomorrow. But I couldn’t find out anything about who you were. Or the man with the scars.’
‘The man with the scars,’ Elenya repeated wistfully. ‘Yes, I suppose he is that. He is Brother Va Angemaite of the monastery of Saint Samuil of Arkady. And I am still the Princess Elenya Lukeva Christyakova of Novy Rostov. You may, if you wish, sit.’
He sat. ‘I’m Benzamir Michael Mahmood, Prince of the People over the Sea.’
‘What brings you to Great Nairobi, Prince Benzamir?’
‘Books, Princess. Books.’
He saw how her body stiffened for a moment, heard how her breath caught in her throat.
‘You know what Solomon Akisi stole then.’
‘More than know. He sold one book in Misr, on the shore of the Inner Sea. It came to my father the king, and I have brought it back as a gift for the emperor.’ Benzamir was busy remembering what he should and shouldn’t give away. She knew the fate of the second book; he ought not.
‘You made a mistake,’ Elenya said, her eyes narrowing. ‘The book was not Akisi’s to steal, nor the emperor’s to keep. The books belong to the patriarch of Mother Russia. And Va is determined to take them all to him, one by one if necessary.’
Benzamir listened for a moment to the creak of insects and the barking of lizards. ‘How did the emperor get the books in the first place? They’ve come a very long way from Mother Russia. As have you, Princess.’
‘Va goes where the books go,’ she said. ‘I go where he goes. As for the emperor, how do powerful men come to own anything? They steal it. Sometimes by law, sometimes by trickery, and sometimes they just take it by force. I was there, Prince Benzamir, when the emperor’s men killed all the brothers, took the books and burned the monastery of Saint Samuil to the ground. I witnessed both the bloody carnage and the fire. They were good men. They didn’t deserve to die like that.’ She stopped. ‘What’s wrong? What have I said?’
Benzamir’s hand had gone to his mouth, and he hadn’t blinked all the while. ‘Dead? How many?’
‘Forty brothers. Not one of them picked up a weapon to defend himself. I don’t understand why you’re so shocked. These things happen from time to time.’
‘And the emperor did this? I mean, he ordered it?’
Elenya shrugged and pulled her grey cloak tighter around her. The night air was cold, and they hadn’t moved for a while. ‘Who else? The books are taken from Arkady, they turn up in Great Nairobi. It’s not difficult to believe.’
‘No, no, it’s not. The emperor has the gold, the spies, the ability to reach out beyond his borders: he could do it, if he had reason enough.’ Benzamir felt his palms prick with sweat. ‘Did you ever see one of these books?’
‘Yes, eventually. Akisi had run to a land on the edge of the Outer Ocean. He tried to make a name for himself, sell himself and the book’s knowledge to the highest bidder. He murdered a village priest and massacred an army. He’s not a nice man.’ Elenya looked at Benzamir quizzically from under her hood. ‘I saw the book he had, but that’s not what you’re asking. In fact, you’re asking a lot of questions that I don’t have to answer. I don’t know you. I don’t know who you are.’ She stood up hurriedly and made to leave. ‘If you’re one of the emperor’s men, then I’ve said enough to get us all hanged.’