Now the guard heard them and he peered out of the cockpit window, greeted his leader, and asked what was the matter. Bayazid replied, “Nothing,” waved him back on guard and searched the night thoughtfully. In the few days the stranger had been in the village he had come to like him and respect him, as a man and as a hunter. Today he had taken him into the forest, to test him, and then as a further test and for his own pleasure he had given him a rifle. Erikki’s first shot killed a distant, difficult mountain goat as cleanly as he could have done. Giving the rifle was exciting, wondering what the stranger would do, if he would, foolishly, try to turn it on him or even more foolishly take off into the trees when they could hunt nun with great enjoyment. But the Redhead of the Knife had just hunted and kept his thoughts to himself, through they could all sense the violence simmering. “You felt something - danger?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Erikki looked out at the night and all around. No sounds other than the wind, a few night animals hunting, nothing untoward. Even so he was unsettled. “Still no news?”
“No, nothing more.” This afternoon one of the two messengers had returned. “The Khan is very sick, near death,” the man had said. “But he promises an answer soon.”
Bayazid had reported all this faithfully to Erikki. “Pilot, be patient,” he said, not wanting trouble.
“What’s the Khan sick with?”
“Sick - the messenger said they’d been told he was sick, very sick. Sick!” “If he dies, what then?”
“His heir will pay - or not pay. Insha’Allah.” The Sheik eased the weight of his assault rifle on his shoulder. “Come into the lee, it’s cold.” From the edge of the hut now they could see down into the valley. Calm and quiet, a few specks of headlights from time to time on the road far, far below. Barely thirty minutes from the palace and Azadeh, Erikki was thinking. And no way to escape.
Every time he started engines to recharge his batteries and circulate the oil, five guns were pointing at him. At odd times he would stroll to the edge of the village or, like tonight, he would get up, ready to run and chance it on foot but never an opportunity, guards too alert. During the hunting today he had been sorely tempted to try to break out, useless of course, knowing they were just playing with him.
“It’s nothing, pilot, go back to sleep,” Bayazid said. “Perhaps there’ll be good news tomorrow. As God wants.”
Erikki said nothing, his eyes raking the darkness, unable to be rid of his foreboding. Perhaps Azadeh’s in danger or perhaps… or perhaps it’s nothing and I’m just going mad with the waiting and the worry and what’s going on? Did Ross and the soldier make a break for it and what about Petr matyeryebyets Mzytryk and Abdollah? “As God wants, yes, I agree, but / want to leave. The time has come.”
The younger man smiled, showing his broken teeth. “Then I will have to tie you up.”
Erikki smiled back, as mirthlessly. “I’ll wait tomorrow and tomorrow night, then the next dawn I leave.”
“No.”
“It will be better for you and better for me. We can go to the palace with your tribesmen, I can Ian - ”
“No. We wait.”
“I can land in the courtyard, and I’ll talk to him and you’ll get the ransom and th - ”
“No. We wait. We wait here. It’s not safe there.”
“Either we leave together or I leave alone.”
The Sheik shrugged. “You have been warned, pilot.”
AT THE PALACE OF THE KHAN: 11:38 P.M. Ahmed drove Najoud and her husband Mahmud down the corridor before him like cattle. Both were tousled and still in their bedclothes, both petrified, Najoud in tears, two guards behind them. Ahmed still had his knife out. Half an hour ago he had rushed into their quarters with the guards, dragged them out of their carpet beds, saying the Khan at long last knew they’d lied about Hakim and Azadeh plotting against him, because tonight one of the servants admitted he had overheard the same conversation and nothing wrong had been said.
“Lies,” Najoud gasped, pressed against the carpet bed, half blinded by the flashlight that one of the guards directed at her face, the other guard holding a gun at Mahmud’s head, “all lies…”
Ahmed slid out his knife, needle sharp, and poised it under her left eye. “Not lies, Highness! You perjured yourself to the Khan, before God, so I am here at the Khan’s orders to take out your sight.” He touched her skin with the point and she cried out, “No please I beg you I beg you please don’t… wait wait…”
“You admit lying?”
“No. I never lied. Let me see my father he’d never order this without seeing me fir - ”
“You’ll never see him again! Why should he see you? You lied before and you’ll lie again!”
“I… I never lied never lied …”
His lips twisted into a smile. For all these years he had known she had lied. It had mattered nothing to him. But now it did. “You lied, in the Name of God.” The point pricked the skin. The panic-stricken woman tried to scream but he held his other hand over her mouth and he was tempted to press the extra half inch, then out and in again the other side and out and all finished, finished forever. “Liar!”
“Mercy,” she croaked, “mercy, in the Name of God…”
He relaxed his grip but not the point of the knife. “I cannot grant you mercy. Beg the mercy of God, the Khan has sentenced you!” “Wait… wait,” she said frantically, sensing his muscles tensing for the probe, “please… let me go to the Khan… let me ask his mercy I’m his daugh - ”
“You admit you lied?”
She hesitated, eyes fluttering with panic along with her heart. At once the knife point went in a fraction and she gasped out, “I admit… I admit I exagg - ”
“In God’s name, did you lie or didn’t you?” Ahmed snarled. “Yes … yes… yes I did… please let me see my father… please.” The tears were pouring out and he hesitated, pretending to be unsure of himself, then glared at her husband who lay on the carpet nearby quivering with terror. “You’re guilty too!”
“I knew nothing about this, nothing,” Mahmud stuttered, “nothing at all, I’ve never lied to the Khan never never I knew nothing…” Ahmed shoved them both ahead of him. Guards opened the door of the sickroom. Azadeh and Hakim and Aysha were there, summoned at a moment’s notice, in nightclothes, all frightened, the nurse equally, the Khan awake and brooding, his eyes bloodshot. Najoud went down on her knees and blurted out that she had exaggerated about Hakim and Azadeh and when Ahmed came closer she suddenly broke, “I lied I lied I lied please forgive me Father please forgive me… forgive me … mercy… mercy…” in a mumbling gibberish. Mahmud too was moaning and crying, saying he knew nothing about this or he would have spoken up, of course he would have, before God, of course he would, both of them begging for mercy - everyone knowing there would be none.
The Khan cleared his throat noisily. Silence. All eyes on him. His mouth worked but no sound came out. Both the nurse and Ahmed came closer. “Ah’med stay an’d Hakim, Aza’deh… res’t go - them un’der gu’ard.” “Highness,” the nurse said gently, “can it no’ wait until tomorrow? You’ve tired yourself very much. Please, please make it tomorrow.” The Khan shook his head. “N’ow.”
The nurse was very tired. “I dinna accept any responsibility, Excellency Ahmed. Please make it as short as possible.” Exasperated, she walked out. Two guards pulled Najoud and Mahmud to their feet and dragged them away. Aysha followed shakily. For a moment the Khan closed his eyes, gathering his strength. Now only his heavy, throttled breathing broke the silence. Ahmed and Hakim and Azadeh waited. Twenty minutes passed. The Khan opened his eyes. For him the time had been only seconds. “My so’n, trus’t Ahmed as fir’st confid’ant.” “Yes, Father.”