“You’re the two that crashed that helo in the Carib,” Adams said with a snort. “Oh. Great. I take it all back.”
“We took a short range EMP blast you moron,” Kacey snapped. “What the fuck were we supposed to do without God damned engines? We were lucky to set it down light enough most of the FAST made it off!”
“I was yanking your chain,” Adams said evenly. “Anybody that’s willing to fly towards an LZ that has an active nuke on it gets my vote. You guys want a beer?”
“I’d prefer tequila,” Tammie said, happily. “But I’ll settle for beer.”
“This isn’t beer you settle for,” Adams said. “This is beer you kill for.”
“I was going to show them around, first,” Anastasia pointed out.
“I’d say take the cook’s tour,” Adams admitted. “This is a pretty interesting place. And I really need a shower. To answer your unspoken question, Anastasia, no, it is not going well. I think that Shota’s mother dropped him on his head as a baby. I asked her, point blank, if she had and she said she had not. But apparently he had a hard time finding his way out when he was birthed, so maybe it’s pre-natal.”
“You asked a woman if she’d dropped her son on his head?” Tammie asked, amazed.
“Yeah, but you’d have to understand the set-up here,” Adams said. “It wasn’t even a particularly unexpected question. Shota’s well known among the Keldara. Big as an ox and just about as dumb. Really good shot with a Carl Gustav, though. I think I need to just switch him out but if I can get him to learn to count as high as five he’ll be awesome for door-kicking. I mean, he’d kick down a bank vault. But, God, he’s dumb.”
“Well, we’ll go take the cook’s tour,” Tammie said, “while you’re having a shower. Then I’ll get you drunk and pry all your secrets out of you.”
“The day a woman can out-drink me I’ll turn in my trident,” Adams said, chuckling but then his face cleared. “Except this one bartender at Danny’s. But that girl was a fucking pro. I saw her drink a whole platoon under the table one time. That’s a professional. Admittedly, one without a functioning liver, but a pro nonetheless. You guys go take the cook’s tour, I’m gonna go grab a shower and try to figure out a way to teach Shota to count as high as five. I mean, if they can teach monkeys sign language, I should be able to teach him to count to five for fuck’s sake. Maybe a little rhyme or an advertising jingle… ”
The former SEAL wandered off, muttering.
“Where would you like to start?” Anastasia asked, lightly. “Or are you fatigued from your trip? You could rest. Jet lag is very debilitating.”
“I don’t, honestly, know what time my body thinks it is,” Tammie replied. “This is an interesting place. Ottoman?”
“The caravanserai was extensively renovated by the Ottomans, yes,” Anastasia said, walking over to one of the carved buttresses that held up the ceiling of the room. “But the original work is believed to be from the period of the Byzantine Empire. These buttresses have faint markings that are indicative of Byzantine construction. You see here the faint indications of lacework patterning which is a Byzantine motif and the gouged out portions were probably crosses which the Ottomans, or other Islamics, removed. And much of the lower stone-work shows similar signs in that it is very similar to Roman construction, which the Byzantines used extensively for their castellation. The serai was probably rebuilt at least once under the Byzantines. The next clear work is Ottoman but the period between those two holders, probably close to a thousand years, is unclear.”
“Oh,” Kacey said, looking at the patterns. Lace did seem to fit the bill. She’d have to take the manager’s word on that being “indicative of Byzantine construction.” She knew about zero about architecture and not much more about the Byzantine empire. “I’ve got one question. No, I’ve got a billion questions. Could you start at the beginning?”
“In the beginning was the Word,” Anastasia said, lightly. “But I think you mean something closer in time. Let us sit, this will be somewhat long.”
“Good,” Tammie said. “I could do with some ground-work here. I’m pretty confused.”
“A moment,” Anastasia said and disappeared through the door she’d entered by. After a moment she came back out with another young lady who walked off in the opposite direction. This one was really young, 14 if she was a day and wearing the same “school-girl” outfit as the harem girls. Which raised other questions. The earlier girls had been… okay, “old enough.” Not old enough in the States to be fucking a guy in his thirties, but “old enough” for a developing country, whatever the liberals at home would wish. That one looked as if she should be playing with dolls. “Martya will bring some drinks. I wasn’t sure what you’d like so we’ll have tea and if that doesn’t suit your tastes there are others.”
“We can get it ourselves,” Tammie protested.
“You could and in some conditions you will,” Anastasia said, nodding. “But there are servants in the house for a reason. I will try to inform you, brief you, sufficiently that you can have a firm overview of what you are potentially joining. That will take time. If you are fetching drinks that interferes. When you are entirely free with your time you can choose to fetch or be fetched. But the servants are there for a reason. The Kildar does not have time to get drinks for himself, cook for himself, do his laundry. His time is much better spent managing the resources of the Valley or, as he puts it, ‘killing people and breaking things.’ This is, among other things, what pays for our surroundings. The girls are in free-study at the moment and, thus, not particularly busy. I asked which of them was least busy and Martya said she was. Given that she is intelligent and quick at her studies, she could be bored trying to act like she was studying or fetch us a drink. Which is the better use of her time?”
“You just used up more time explaining that than I would have getting myself a Coke,” Tammie pointed out as Martya reappeared, accompanied by an older woman, bearing a couple of trays.
“Yes, but it is part of your briefing,” Anastasia replied. “I hope you enjoy tea. Since we were taking this time to be acquainted I asked Mother Griffina to prepare tea.”
“Tea” turned out to be in the English manner, which mean a hearty snack as well as the drink. There were croissants, scones and various other baked delicacies to accompany. The total covered the table.
“Pour, Martya,” Anastasia said, sitting back in her chair.
“Miss Bathlick? Cream or sugar?” Martya said, carefully but clearly.
“Sugar,” Kacey said, blinking. She’d been practically dragged to the airport, cleared customs without a visa, thrown into a Blackhawk piloted by a local and now she was having an English tea in an Ottoman caravanserai, complete with harem. It was a bit much to take. “Two lumps.”
Martya picked up the lumps with a pair of silver tongs, placed them in the cup then poured tea in, placed a small spoon on the saucer and handed the whole collection to Kacey. The movements had been as smooth as a dance, clearly practiced.
“Miss Wilson? Cream or sugar?”
“Sugar,” Tammie answered, smiling. “Two lumps.” She paused and then glanced at Kacey before blurting. “And cream!”
Kacey tried not to chuckle. Tammie was the health nut of the two of them, at least in certain ways. Kacey didn’t drink and Tammie did which was one divergence. The other was that it was Tammie who had the big sweet tooth, not to mention things like cream in her coffee and tea. At least in part to make up for it, Tammie was always pushing vitamins and, otherwise, healthy eating.