She nodded and moved across the room toward el Sidi’s minion, leaving her three companions clustered in a group around the door that was their target.
As soon as the Duchess had distracted Abdul’s attention, Lord Darcy whispered, “All right. This is it. Move in.”
Lord John Quetzal turned and faced the crowd, watching every movement. Lord Darcy and the Prince of Vladistov moved toward the door.
“No spell on the lock,” said the short, round man with the beard. “Too many people moving in and out.”
“Very good.” Lord Darcy reached out, turned the knob, pulled open the door, and within the space of half a second he and his companion were inside, the door closed behind them.
Sidi al-Nasir conformed precisely to the description that the Duchess had given them. When he saw the two strangers enter his office, one hand reached for a drawer — then stopped. His black eyes looked down the equally black muzzle of the Heron .36 that stared at him. Then they lifted to the face of the man who carried the weapon. “With your permission, my lord,” he said coolly, “I shall put my empty hand back on top of my desk.”
“I suggest that you do so,” said Lord Darcy. He glanced at the man who sat across from Sidi al-Nasir’s desk. “Good evening, my lord. I see that you are here before me.”
Commander Lord Ashley smiled calmly. “It was inevitable,” he said in a cool, constrained voice. “I am glad to see you.” He looked toward Sidi al-Nasir. “My Lord al-Nasir,” he said, “has just proposed that I go to work for the Government of Poland.”
Lord Darcy looked at the dark-complexioned man. “Have you now, My Lord the Winner?”
Sidi al-Nasir spread his hands on the surface of the desk and smiled. “Ah, then you understand Arabic, most noble lord?” he said in that language.
“While I do not, perhaps, have your liquid fluency in the Tongue of Tongues,” Lord Darcy said in return, “my poor knowledge of the language of the Prophet is adequate for most purposes.”
Sidi al-Nasir’s finely-chiseled lips wreathed in a smile. “I am not one to contradict, most noble,” he said. “But, except that your enunciation betrays the fact that your mentor was a subject of the Shah of Shahs, your command of the speech of the Qu’ran is most flowing.”
Lord Darcy allowed a half-smile to touch his lips. “It is true that my instructor in the noble language of the Prophet of Islam came from the Court of the Shadow of God on Earth, the Shah of Persia, but — would you prefer that I spoke in the debased fashion of Northwest Africa and Southern Spain?”
The sudden shift in Lord Darcy’s accent made Sidi al-Nasir blink. Then he raised his eyebrows and his smile broadened even further. “Ah, most wise one, your knowledge betrays you. But few people of your Frankish Empire have such a command of the Tongue of Tongues. You are, then, the renowned Sidi of Arcy. It is indeed a pleasure to meet you, my lord.”
“I hope that events may prove that it was a pleasure to meet you, my lord,” said Lord Darcy. Then, shifting, “But you have guests, my lord. Shall we continue in Anglo-French?”
“Of course,” said Sidi al-Nasir. He glanced at Lord Ashley. “So it was all a trap then?”
Lord Ashley nodded. “All a trap, my dear al-Nasir.”
“A poor one, I think,” said Sidi al-Nasir with a smile. “Poorly planned and poorly executed.” He chuckled softly. “I need not even deny the truth.”
“Well, we shall see,” said Lord Darcy. “What is the truth?”
Sidi al-Nasir’s smile did not vanish. He merely looked at Commander Lord Ashley.
Lord Ashley gave him one glance and then looked up at Lord Darcy with a smile. “Sorry to have pulled this on you. Didn’t know you’d be here. We have long suspected that the Manzana de Oro was the headquarters of a spy ring working for His Slavonic Majesty. In order to prove our case I ran up a debt here of…” He looked at Sidi al-Nasir.
The Moor, still smiling, sighed. “Of some one hundred and fifty golden sovereigns, my lord. More than you could earn in a year.”
Lord Ashley nodded calmly. “Exactly. And tonight you offered me two alternatives. You would either report my debt to the Admiralty, in which case — so you assumed — I would be ruined, or I could become a spy for His Slavonic Majesty.”
Sidi al-Nasir’s smile broadened. “That was why I said the trap was poorly laid, My Lord Commander. I deny that I made you any such offer, and you have no witnesses to prove it.”
Lord Darcy, still holding his pistol level, allowed a smile to come over his own face. “My Lord al-Nasir,” he said, “for your information, I shall say that I am quite confident that you have just made such an offer to my lord the Commander.”
Sidi al-Nasir showed his white teeth in a broad smile. “Ah, my lord, you may be certain.” He laughed. “Perhaps even I am certain, no? And of course Commander Lord Ashley is certain. But” — he spread his hands — “is this evidence? Would it stand up in court?” He looked suddenly very sad. “Ah, you might, of course, deport me. The evidence of My Lord Ashley may be strong enough for that. There is, certainly, enough suspicion here to force me to return to my native Spain. I must close down the Manzana de Oro. What a pity it will be to leave the chill and fog of London for the warmth, the color, the beauty of Granada…” Then he directed his smile at Lord Darcy. “But I am afraid that you cannot imprison me.”
“As to that,” said Lord Darcy, “possibly you are right. But we shall see.”
“Is it necessary, my lord, that you keep the muzzle of that weapon pointing at me?” said Sidi al-Nasir. “I find it distinctly ungentlemanly.”
“Of course, my lord,” said Lord Darcy, not deviating the aim of his weapon one iota. “If you would be so good as to remove — no! no!… not just the gun… the whole drawer from your desk. There may be more than one gun in it.”
Sidi al-Nasir very carefully pulled out the drawer and placed it on the desk top. “Only one, my lord, and I shouldn’t think of touching it in your presence.”
Lord Darcy looked at the weapon that lay by itself in the drawer. “Ah,” he said, “a Toledo .39. A very good weapon, my lord. I shall see to it that it is returned to you, if the law so allows.”
The Sidi al-Nasir’s obsidian eyes suddenly flickered as his gaze moved across Lord Darcy’s face. In that instant he realized that Darcy’s information covered a great deal more territory than a mere suspicion of espionage. The Sidi knew that this trap was more dangerous than it had at first appeared.
“It is possible, my lord,” he said smoothly, “that Lord Ashley’s losses were due to the machinations of a certain Master Sorcerer, whom I have decided to release from my employ. The Commander’s winnings up until a short time ago were considerable. The Master Sorcerer of whom I spoke may have decided to correct that. If so, of course, I am not personally responsible…”
“Ah,” said Lord Darcy. “So Commander Lord Ashley’s slight precognitive ability was overcome by Master Ewen.” He addressed the Commander without taking his eyes off Sidi al-Nasir. “What did you usually play, Ashley?”
“Rouge-et-Or,” said the Commander.
“I see. Then the precognition would be of little use at that game if a Master Sorcerer were working against you. If you made a bet on any given number, the sorcerer could almost always make certain that the little ivory ball did not land in the proper slot — even if he were operating from another room.”
His eyes gazed directly at those of Sidi al-Nasir. “A deliberate plot, then,” he said. “You tried to enlist the Commander by having your sorcerer force the game to go against him.”
“We suspected something of the sort,” Lord Ashley said cheerfully, “so we decided to let Sidi al-Nasir run it as he would and see what developed.”