"She had no choice. Was she to give up her life to save that of a helpless cripple?"
Ian could see he had struck a note of reason in Abdar with that answer. Abdar slowly nodded and turned to an officer. "Search also for the woman."
After the officer had left, Abdar moved across the room toward Ian. "You should not have come back. "Your brother has offended Kali by attempting to steal her treasure."
"Her treasure or your treasure?" Ian asked.
"It is all the same."
"Is it?" Ian closed his eyes. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I cannot fight the laudanum any longer."
Moments passed, and he could hear Abdar restlessly prowling back and forth about the chamber. Finally Abdar exploded. "I do not think you drugged. You seek to ignore me."
"The laudanum . . ."
"I will triumph, you know."
"Will you?"
"He has no army, no arms. I have fine rifles furnished from the armory of your Colonel Pickering."
"How pleasant for you."
"You do not believe me?"
"I believe you think you will triumph." He smiled faintly. "However, as my Margaret was wont to say, Ruel was never one to be accommodating."
"He will have no—"
"Kartauk is not here." Pachtal hurried back into the chamber. "We have searched the palace and the grounds. We found only one Cinnidan servant. The rest have fled."
Abdar swore as he whirled back to Ian. "Where is he?"
Ian's lids lifted. "May I suggest you ask Kali?"
"You defy me?" Patches of color flared in Abdar's cheeks. "You miserable cripple. You have the temerity to express contempt for me?"
"I do appear to have that temerity. I'm a bit surprised myself. For a while I was afraid I wouldn't be able to do this well. Ruel is much better at this sort of thing than I am." He met Abdar's gaze. "Yes, I do have contempt for you, Abdar. Both for you and your heathen goddess of destruction."
"Kali will show you her power. She will strike down all who—"
"Kali does not exist," Ian interrupted softly. "There is no real destruction. What is destroyed merely becomes something else."
"You lie." Abdar's eyes blazed at him. "She does exist. I will show you, she exists." He turned to Pachtal. "Where is Benares?"
"Still at the ship."
"What is he doing there?" Abdar screamed shrilly. "Send for him. What good is he, if he is not where I want him?"
"You said you might not need him," Pachtal said soothingly. "You thought if Kartauk was here, he might be persuaded to—"
"But Kartauk is not here. He ran away to the protection of that Scottish dog. I must make do with Benares. Tell him to come and bring the masks."
"All of them?"
"Of course, all of them. I must meditate and surround myself with power before I launch my attack on the Scot."
"Would it not be better to go now and surprise him?"
"We have no surprise now that Kartauk has carried word to him of our arrival. I will crush him at my leisure." His plump, childlike face lit with a smile as he stared at Ian. "You are too weak and drug-ridden to be worthy of a place in my collection, but I believe I can use you to strike fear into your brother's heart." He turned to Pachtal. "Do it. We will use that Cinnidan servant to take the mask to the Scot. It must be done well, you understand. Very well."
"I have never failed you in this, have I?" Pachtal asked.
"No, and you must not fail me now." Abdar left the room.
Pachtal smiled at Ian. "You have displeased His Highness. I fear you will suffer for it." He came toward him. "But first we'll wait a few hours for Benares to arrive and the laudanum wears off. I must strive to get the appropriate response."
Eagerness surged through Ian. It would soon be here. When the moment came, he must struggle, he must fight it as decreed by holy law, but it was coming nearer.
He could almost see the light.
"It was not my fault." Benares's voice cracked with panic. "I'm only a craftsman. You are the one responsible. It was your mistake."
"I made no mistake," Pachtal said harshly. How could it have happened? he wondered. It was incredible. "I will not take the blame."
"You must take it." Benares's eyes were glittering, his hands shaking. The goldsmith had never before dared to speak to Pachtal in this manner, but his fear of Pachtal was clearly submerged by his terror of Abdar.
He was not without fear himself, Pachtal realized. Abdar had been growing stranger and darker ever since his father's death, and he did not know what effect this blunder would have on his temper. Abdar's rage might fall on him as well as on Benares, and he had no wish to join the collection gracing Abdar's walls.
"I will not ask you to take the blame." He turned away. "Pack it in a box and send for that Cinnidan servant, Tamar. Tell him to take the box and deliver it to Medford's camp to send on to the Scot. Abdar will never see it. I will tell Abdar I misunderstood his orders and thought he meant to send it directly to MacClaren."
"He will be very angry," Benares said doubtfully.
"Not as angry as if he had seen this . . . this monstrosity." He nodded at the gold mask. "You keep your counsel and I'll keep mine, and we will both survive."
"My God, it's Margaret!" Ruel jumped to his feet and moved toward the rider approaching the campfire.
Jane followed him, her heart pounding with fear. Margaret's very presence here heralded disaster, and she was riding astride, her white gown dirty and torn, her fair hair streaming down her back.
Ruel grabbed the reins as her mare skidded to a stop. "Ian?" he asked curtly.
"Behind me," Margaret gasped. "I told Medford to keep him at his camp until I could come for him. Kartauk said you had to know at once."
"Know what?"
"Abdar. Two hundred men . . . the dock was burning . . ."
Ruel swore. "Dammit, I didn't expect this so soon! How far behind?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. There was no sign of pursuit as I came down the canyon. Medford said he'd start to strike camp and put a watch on the trail."
"Let her get down," Jane said as she moved closer. "Can't you see she's exhausted?"
"Sorry." Ruel's voice was abstracted as he lifted Margaret down from the mare. "Kartauk?"
"I'm not sure." Margaret leaned against the saddle and closed her eyes. "He may have been following Ian's chair. I saw a horse . . ."
"Come and sit down." Jane slid her arm around Margaret's waist and led her toward her blanket near the campfire. "Get her coffee, Ruel."
Ruel turned and walked toward the pot hanging above the embers.
Margaret collapsed on the blanket. "I think Kartauk . . ." She wrapped her arms around herself to still her trembling. "I believe he meant ... to stay."
"Why would he do that?" Jane asked.
"Because he's a foolish man who thinks only he knows the proper thing to do." In spite of the tart words, tears were running down her cheeks. "He should have given me the choice to—" She stopped and wiped her damp cheeks with the back of her hand. "But no, he'd rather stay and be killed by that fiend. He was always too obstinate for his—" Her voice broke and she was forced to stop.
"Even if he did stay, that doesn't mean he's dead." Ruel thrust the metal cup into her hand. "Kartauk's a clever man and Abdar wanted him alive."