One final word. You will tell no one the day is coming. No one. No exceptions.
No excuses. He who speaks, and whoever hears him, will immediately join theformer khadifa of the Hahr. Silence is that important to me. Do youunderstand?"
He did not get a chance to force acknowledgments. Someone knocked at the door, and yelled. Irritated, the old man waved at bel-Sidek, then gestured theothers into the bedroom.
Bel-Sidek opened the door a crack and mumbled with someone. He closed up, cameto the old man. "A boy, about ten, with this. For you, I assume."
The General looked at the folded paper with the sparrow on the outside. "Openit. Place it so I can read it." He willed his eyes to work well enough.
His correspondent had taken his disabilities into account. The message waswritten in large block print. He grunted and read it again, then found theshape he recognized as bel-Sidek. "Khadifa, you were right. Your man isvisiting Government House right now." He offered the message to bel-Sidek.
"Handle it as you see fit."
Bel-Sidek read the message twice himself, then remained contemplative forseveral minutes. It meant a great deal more than an enemy agent reaching aplace of high trust within the movement. It could mean that all the guilt ofthose who had failed at Dak-es-Souetta, and the search for atonement andredemption implicit in their commitment to the movement, was moot, if not aprideful arrogance of false guilt. Had Qushmarrah fallen because an apprenticemetalworker of no breeding or standing whatsoever had lost his nerve duringthe course of something that wasn't even a battle?
No. True or not, it wouldn't do. Too many great men and great families had toomuch emotion invested in the legends already in place. It had to stay quiet.
But, even so, it had to be handled. The simple and final way would be to getrid of the man. But why discard a perfectly usable tool just because it hadcaused you injury? Why not retain it and use it with a little more caution?
"The khadifa of the Hahr has not yet assumed his new nor broken with his olddistrict. If he could dip into that and loan me a dozen reliable soldiers whocan be counted on to forget tonight's doings before tomorrow's dawn?"
Hadribel stared at him, almost smirking. "You want to borrow some men? Or areyou practicing for a speech to the Senate?"
"I need men." He controlled his embarrassment and the anger that stalkedbehind it.
Hadribel looked at the old man. "Sir?"
"Right away, Khadifa. Time may be critical."
"Yes sir."
Hadribel waited for bel-Sidek at the door. After hesitating a moment, waitingfor something more from the General, bel-Sidek went outside. In a moment hewas laboring to keep pace with Hadribel.
The new khadifa of the Hahr pretended an epiphany. "Oh. I'm sorry. How is yourleg?"
"It's been troublesome lately. But I've had to do a lot more getting aroundthan I'm used to." Imply that he had done so because of his specialrelationship with the old man.
Hadribel forbore any expression of sympathy. "What's going on? I take it theold man knows all about it."
"He does."
"Big secret, eh?"
"Yes. Isn't everything?"
"You need me along on whatever this is?"
"That might not be wise. You'd figure it out. The old man thinks too manypeople know already. Meaning one more than him."
Hadribel laughed. "He does have that way about him." He went serious.
"Honestly, how is he doing? Looked like he was having trouble tonight."
"He isn't getting any better. He won't slow down and let himself get better," bel-Sidek admitted. Then he lied, "On the other hand, he does seem to havestabilized."
"I worry. And I'm sure others do, too. If something happens suddenly, hispassion for secrecy will leave us all in the dark."
"He claims he's made arrangements. How good I couldn't say. I live with himand don't know what he's doing most of the time."
"What's this big event he was talking about?"
That's one of the things I don't know. He throws me out of the house when heeven wants to think about it. You ask too many questions. That isn't a habithe encourages."
Hadribel accepted the rebuke sullenly. Bel-Sidek did not care. This was not aman whose good opinion concerned him. Politics. You had to get along with, mixwith, people you wouldn't speak to in a lifetime otherwise.
He waited in the street while Hadribel and his sons assembled the crew he wanted. It took them only fifteen minutes. The Shu organization wasefficiently managed.
Bel-Sidek took the men away from the Shu before he explained that they weregoing to capture a Herodian agent who would be coming out of Government Housebefore long. He did not identify the spy. He told them the man was not to beharmed if at all possible.
"He should leave the door on the east side. He'll want to get out of sightquickly so he'll head for one of the streets that begin right across theplaza." He quizzed the men to make sure they knew the area. Most knew it aswell as he did, which was all part of being a member of the movement.
Knowledge was a weapon, too.
"You'll spread out, then, and let him get off the plaza. Then you'll herd himtoward me. I'm sure you all know the drill. We've done it before. You don'thave to get close enough for him to see you. He just has to know you're thereand you're moving toward him."
Usually the tactic was employed when the Living did not want the huntersrecognized afterward. This time bel-Sidek hoped to keep his quarry anonymous.
Naszif would not survive long if he was recognized. These men did not concern themselves with the niceties of strategy or policy. For them traitor and deadwere synonymous.
Hoping he was not too late, bel-Sidek dispersed his troops and began the wait.
On the harbor side the fog was drawing its mask over Qushmarrah. There on theeast face of the hill the air was getting hazy, the haze catching a weirdgreenish tint from the just risen nail paring of a moon.
As he slipped out of Government House, Naszif, the son of bel-Abek, was in asfine a mood as ever he'd known. It had been a day of days; almost enough tocounterbalance the misery of the day before. First, the promotion. Third inthe Living in the Shu. And the rumor was, that was as good as being secondbecause the khadifa of the Shu was reputed to be some pre-conquest lord whohad gone into a coma years ago but was of such high family they dared not puthim aside.
At last he had attained a position of power and influence- and, moreimportant, of access. He would know what was going on inside the organization.
He would know who was who. He would sit in on policy, planning, and strategysessions.
Colonel Bruda and General Cado were as excited as he was. A long-agoinvestment had begun to pay dividends. They had doubled his good fortuneimmediately by promoting him to vice-colonel in the Herodian army. His beingable to confirm the probability that Ortbal Sagdet had been khadifa of theHahr had pleased General Cado, too.
He felt the forty gold double sudets that represented his promotion bonus. Hesmiled. He could now afford to get his family out of the Shu. But his missionprevented his doing so. Maybe a second household? Would his several mastersaccept that?
His mood darkened when he thought of Zouki. His family had been gutted ...
He was too excited to pay proper attention to his surroundings, too thrilledto heed the old specter of guilt that had haunted him since that night at theSeven Towers. He did not feel the weight of fear that so often perched uponhis shoulders. He missed completely the first couple of moves made by the menstalking him.
The scrape of a foot in the stillness, the flash of a garment in motion caughtfrom the corner of his eye, and stark terror usurped his joy. It did not takea minute to understand what was happening. He had helped ran Herodians when hewas a ground-level man.
He fought the panic. Panic was the enemy's ally. If he refused to let itcontrol him he might find a way out. Up to a rooftop. Down into a basement.