For Ahmed time stopped. If he went with the Infidel he would probably die, Hakim Khan would die, his sister would die and the Infidel who was responsible for all this trouble would probably escape with his devil tribesmen. But then, he thought, if I could persuade them to let the Khan live and his sister live, persuade them to leave the palace, I will have proved myself beyond all doubt, both to the Khan and to her, and I can kill the pilot later. Or I can kill him now and escape easily and live - but only as a fugitive despised by all as one who betrayed his Khan. Insha’Allah! His face creased into a smile. “As God wants!” He took out his knife and gave it and his gun to the white-faced guard and walked around Erikki. “Wait,” Erikki said. “Tell the guard to send for a doctor. Urgently. Hakim and my wife… they may be hurt.”
Ahmed told the man to do it and went along the corridor and into the hall and up the staircase. On the landing, tribesmen searched him roughly for arms then escorted him into the Khan’s room, crowding after him, shoving him into the vast, empty space - Erikki they held at the door, a knife at his throat - and when Ahmed saw his Khan was truly alive, sitting bleakly on the cushions near Azadeh who was still unconscious, he muttered, “Praised be to God,” and smiled at him. “Highness,” he said calmly, “I’ve sent for a doctor.” Then he picked out Bayazid.
“I am Ahmed Dursak the Turkoman,” he said proudly, speaking Turkish with great formality. “In the Name of God: it’s true that Abdollah Khan is dead, true that I paid half the ransom - 5 million rials - last night on the new Khan’s behalf to two messengers of the chief al-Drah of the village of Broken Tree, as an act of faith because of the unwarranted dishonor to your messenger ordered by the dead Abdollah Khan. Their names were Ishmud and Alilah and I hurried them north in a fine car.” A murmur of astonishment went through the room. There could be no mistake, for all knew these false names, code names, given to protect the village and the tribe. “I told them, on behalf of the new Khan, the second half would be paid the moment the pilot and his air machine were released safely.”
“Where is this new Khan, if he exists?” Bayazid scoffed. “Let him talk for himself.”
“I am Khan of all the Gorgons,” Hakim said, and there was a sudden silence. “Hakim Khan, eldest son of Abdollah Khan.”
All eyes left him and went to Bayazid who noticed the astonishment on Erikki’s face. He scowled, unsure. “Just because you say it doesn’t mean th - ”
“You call me a liar in my own house?”
“I only say to this man,” Bayazid jerked a thumb at Ahmed, “that just because he says he paid the ransom, half of it, does not mean he paid it and did not then have them ambushed and killed - like my other messenger, by God!”
“I told you the truth, before God, and say again before God that I sent them north, safely with the money. Give me a knife, you take a knife, and I will show you what a Turkoman does to a man who calls him liar!” The tribesmen were horrified that their leader had put himself into such a bad position. “You call me liar and my Khan liar?”
In the silence Azadeh stirred and moaned, distracting them. At once Erikki began to go to her but the tribesman’s knife never wavered, the tribesman muttered a curse, and he stopped. Another little moaning sigh that almost drove him mad, then he saw Hakim awkwardly move closer to his sister and hold her hand and this helped him a little.
Hakim was afraid, aching everywhere, knowing he was as defenseless as she was defenseless and needing a doctor urgently, that Ahmed was under siege, Erikki impotent, his own life threatened and his Khanate in ruins. Nonetheless he gathered his courage back. I didn’t outfox Abdollah Khan and Najoud and Ahmed to concede victory to these dogs! Implacably he looked up at Bayazid. “Well? Do you call Ahmed a liar - yes or no?” he said harshly in Turkish so all could understand him and Ahmed loved him for his courage. All eyes now on Bayazid. “A man must answer that question. Do you call him a liar?”
“No,” Bayazid muttered. “He spoke the truth, I accept it as truth.” Someone said, “Insha’Allah,” fingers loosened off triggers but nervousness did not leave the room.
“As God wants,” Hakim said, his relief hidden, and rushed onward, every moment more in command. “More fighting will achieve nothing. So, half the ransom is already paid and the other half promised when the pilot is released safely. The…” He stopped as nausea threatened to overwhelm him but dominated it, easier this time than before. “The pilot’s there and safe and so is his machine. Therefore I will pay the rest at once!” He saw the greed and promised himself vengeance on all of them. “Ahmed, over by the table, Najoud’s satchel’s somewhere there.” Ahmed shoved through the tribesmen arrogantly, to begin searching the debris for the soft leather purse. Hakim had been showing it to Azadeh just before the attack began, happily telling her the jewels were family heirlooms that Najoud had admitted stealing and, in complete contrition, had given him before she left. “I’m glad you didn’t relent, Hakim, very glad,” Azadeh had said. “You’d never be safe with her and her brood close to you.” I’ll never be safe again, he thought without fear, watching Ahmed. I’m glad I left Ahmed whole, he thought, and glad we had the sense, Azadeh and I, to stay in the alcove under cover of the wall at the first sound of firing. If we’d been here in the room…
Insha’Allah. His fingers gripped her wrist and the warmth pleased him, her breathing still regular. “God be praised,” he murmured, then noticed the men threatening Erikki. “You,” he pointed imperiously at them, “let the pilot go!” Nonplussed the rough, bearded men looked at Bayazid who nodded. At once Erikki went through them to Azadeh, eased his heavy sweater away to give him readier access to the knife in the center of his back, then knelt, holding her hand, and faced Bayazid, his bulk protecting her and Hakim. “Highness!” Ahmed gave Hakim Khan the purse. Leisurely he opened it, spilling the jewels into his hands. Emeralds and diamonds and sapphires, necklaces, encrusted golden bracelets, pendants. A great sigh went through the room. Judiciously Hakim chose a ruby necklace worth 10 to 15 million rials, pretending not to notice how all eyes were concentrated and the almost physical smell of greed that permeated the room. Abruptly he discarded the rubies and chose a pendant worth twice as much, three times as much.
“Here,” he said still speaking Turkish, “here is full payment.” He held up the diamond pendant and offered it to Bayazid who, mesmerized by the fire glittering from the single stone, came forward, his hand out. But before Bayazid could take it, Hakim closed his fist. “Before God you accept it as full payment?”
“Yes… yes, as full payment, before God,” Bayazid muttered, never believing that God would grant him so much wealth - enough to buy herds and guns and grenades and silks and warm clothes. He held out his hand. “I swear it before God!”
“And you will leave here at once, in peace, before God?”
Bayazid pulled his brain off his riches. “First we have to get to our village, Agha, we need the airplane and the pilot.”
“No, by God, the ransom’s for the safe return of the airplane and the pilot, nothing more.” Hakim opened his hand, never taking his eyes off Bayazid who now only saw the stone. “Before God?”
Bayazid and his men stared at the liquid fire in the rock-steady hand. “What’s… what’s to prevent me taking all of them, everything,” he said sullenly, “what’s to prevent me killing you - killing you and burning the palace and taking her hostage to force the pilot, eh?”
“Nothing. Except honor. Are Kurds without honor?” Hakim’s voice rasped and he was thinking, how exciting this is, life the prize and death for failure. “This is more than full payment.”