"What?"
"I want to appeal to Colonel bel-Sidek directly."
Aaron stared at the man. He was mad!
"I want you to go home and wait. I'm confident bel-Sidek will try to contactyou. He'll want to know what went on here tonight and how much you told us.
We'll make it easy for him. We'll hang you out there without anybody watchingor protecting you so there's the best chance you can deliver my message. Youronly resource will be Colonel bel-Abek, who will accompany you as myrepresentative. Because he has as much at stake as you do."
This was Naszif s first hint of what his role was to be. Aaron noted that he did not seem thrilled. But he did not protest, either.
Aaron himself was rattled and confused. All he could say was, "But I have towork tomorrow."
Cado looked at him directly, amazed. "I'll intercede with your employer. Areyou going to help or not?"
"What do I have to do?"
"Just go home and wait till you're contacted. Colonel bel-Abek will make myrepresentation for a personal meeting."
"What about my family?"
"Take them with you if that makes you more comfortable. Or leave them here ifyou think that would safer." Cado turned to Naszif and began givinginstructions.
Aaron paid no attention. He stared at the citadel but did not see it. He didnot think much, either.
He had frozen, as he'd always feared he would.
"Mr. Habid? What are you going to do?"
"Yes. All right. I'll do it."
He felt ashamed. He had said that for no high, holy, or heroic reason but justbecause he wanted no one, ever, to judge him in comparison with a despicablecreature like Naszif.
Azel slept poorly, not just because of his wounds. He had no trust in his ownsafety, though he had holed up high in the citadel, in a cubicle difficult toapproach and easy to defend. Torgo had come once, to report his messagedelivered and maybe to be seduced a little more. He did not trust the eunuchnot to return with a knife.
He wakened to the sort of spine tingle he got when danger was near, but aquick survey showed him it must be his imagination. Unless ...
He watched out the small, glassless window for half a minute. A woman cameinto view, walking slowly, studying the citadel.
Sullo's witch. No wonder he had the nerves.
They had it figured out. Their countermoves had begun. Those would be animatedby total desperation. They were in a race against a deadline they could notdetermine, so they would come hard and fast, from every angle and witheverything they had.
How good was she? Could she find the Postern of Fate? Could she unravel itspattern, traps, and alarms? How lucky was she? Ala-eh-din Beyh had succeededas much through luck as through talent.
As desperate as they would be, they would make their own luck.
It would be a race against time from this end, too.
Arif did not sleep at all. He sat in the great cage and cried, a slave tobewilderment and terror.
The Witch slept a deeper sleep than ever she had slept. She had spent toolavishly of her physical resources. She would be longer than usual comingback.
Aaron did nothing but trudge along silently, heading home, head bent in therain. Rainwater trickled down the back of his neck and carried the salt of nervous sweat into the abrasions on his face. Naszif seemed content to carryon without conversation. They had a job to do, they knew what it was, andthere was no need to belabor it with false chatter or to burden it with insincere camaraderie.
This was an alliance of necessity, not of love.
The rainfall was still something short of a full drizzle but it had beenfalling long enough to wash away the city's patina of dust and get started onthe layers of grime underneath. Char Street was thoroughly wet and slick.
Aaron heard the occasional gurgle from the sewer. Some water had begun toaccumulate in the channel.
Much more would be needed to cleanse it. This little bit would just stirthings up and make the stench riper.
Much more would be needed to fill the reservoirs and rain barrels of Qushmarrah, all of which were low. There was talk about a public works projectto recover more of the water from the springs that fed Goat Creek.
Aaron would have said these things to another companion, or another might havesaid them to him.
Two Herodian soldiers remained on guard inside Aaron's home. They had notbeen frugal with his candles, which exasperated him, but neither had theyrobbed him, so he supposed he could count himself lucky. Naszif dismissedthem.
Aaron latched the door, lay down with hopes of getting some rest.
That was impossible, and not just because Naszifs pacing bothered him. Goblinsof fear pranced and wrestled and giggled through the caverns of his mind. Nomatter where he turned his thoughts, he encountered a haunted shadow.
It was like those nights in the pass six years ago when he had not been ableto sleep nights for fear of the events of the following day.
Naszifs restlessness did not help.
Aaron gave it up after a while, got up, tried to put some of his nervousenergy to work. For years he had been meaning to take the sensible precautionof installing a peephole in the door. Putting one in now seemed an appropriateact of self-flagellation. He was surprised to find that it had started gettinglight out, that the fog had begun to retreat despite continued rainfall, thatChar Street had begun to come to life.
Before he finished his chore a dozen nosy neighbors had dropped by to ask whathad happened during the night. The daily incursion of the Dartar hordeoccurred, and they proceeded with their siege of the Shu maze and the sealingof its exits as if for them there was no higher purpose. Elsewhere, he knew, soldiers and horsemen were marching out to meet the Turoks, and the Herodianwar fleet was making preparations to catch the morning tide. And ambitious andevil men were scheming schemes. As always.
He was exhausted when he finished. His eyes burned with fatigue. He lay downagain, and this time he slipped off despite the riot in his mind.
"I feel like I ought to be doing something more active," bel-Sidek toldMeryel, topping off a belly already overly stuffed. He muttered, "I've beeneating my own cooking too long," then reverted to the subject. "I've alwaysled from the front."
"Which explains why you've only got one leg that works."
"Guarantees you won't see me running from a fight."
"You done stuffing yourself?"
"Yes. Enough is more than enough."
"Good. I have news for you. Your neighbor in the Shu is home. You said youwanted to talk to him."
"I'd like to do a lot more than that. Nobody talks to a khadifa the way hetalked to me."
She laughed at him. "Politics and observation of the proprieties of socialstatus have to take precedence over stress and family and personalrelationships. Right?"
He glared. "Don't you go sensible on me. I'm in no mood for reasonable. What'sthe situation?" At that moment it occurred to him he had the solution to his command problem right there. Meryel would make a perfect khadifa of thewaterfront. He knew of no one more competent.
Be impossible to get her accepted, though. Not only was she a woman, she wasno veteran of Dak-es-Souetta.
How had that come to be so critical a qualification?
He listened with half an ear and plucked salient points out of the report shehad gotten from people who worked for her, not for the movement. "He didn'tbring his family home? He didn't go to work? That's not like him."
"He had a family disaster, dolt! You didn't work yesterday, did you?"
Only yesterday! It seemed like a year already. The General in the ground lessthan a day. And the whole movement in disarray already. "All right. Call it abasic character flaw. Go on."
"There is something going on. If I was Cado I'd have an army of spies watchingto see if somebody tried to make contact. Best my men can see, the nearestHerodian is in Government House.