“There must be a solution. I cannot endure two years without my husband.” “With the Help of God the time will pass quickly.” Hakim Khan sat stiffly upright, the pain eased by the codeine.
“I cannot endure two years,” she said again.
“Your oath cannot be broken.”
Erikki said, “He’s right, Azadeh. You gave the oath freely, Hakim is Khan and the price… fair. But all the killings - I must leave, the fault’s mine, not yours or Hakim’s.”
“You did nothing wrong, nothing, you were forced into protecting me and yourself, they were carrion bent on murdering us, and as to the raid… you did what you thought best, you had no way of knowing the ransom was part paid or Father was dead… he should not have ordered the messenger killed.” “That changes nothing. I have to go tonight. We can accept it, and leave it at that,” Erikki said, watching Hakim. “Two years will pass quickly.” “If you live, my darling.” Azadeh turned to her brother who looked back at her, his smile still the same, eyes the same.
Erikki glanced from brother to sister, so different and yet so similar. What’s changed her, why has she precipitated that which should not have been precipitated?
“Of course if I live,” he said, outwardly calm.
An ember fell into the hearth and he reached forward and moved it to safety. He saw that Azadeh had not taken her gaze off Hakim, nor he off her. The same calm, same polite smile, same inflexibility.
“Yes, Azadeh?” Hakim said.
“A mullah could absolve me from my oath.”
“Not possible. Neither a mullah nor I could do that, not even the Imam would agree.”
“I can absolve myself. This is between me and God, I can ab - ” “You cannot, Azadeh. You cannot and live at peace with yourself.” “I can. I can and be at peace.”
“Not and remain Muslim.”
“Yes,” she said simply, “I agree.”
Hakim gasped. “You don’t know what you say.”
“Oh, but I do. I’ve considered even that.” Her voice was toneless. “I’ve considered that solution and found it bearable. I will not endure two years of separation, nor will I endure any attempt on my husband’s life, or forgive it.” She sat back and left the battle for the moment, nauseous but glad she had brought the matter into the open but frightened all the same. Once more she blessed Aysha for forewarning her.
“I will not allow you to renounce Islam under any circumstances,” Hakim said.
She just looked back at the flames.
The minefield was all around them, all mines triggered, and though Hakim was concentrating on her, his senses probed Erikki, He of the Knife, knowing the man was waiting too, playing a different game now that the problem was before them. Should I have dismissed the guard? he asked himself, outraged by her threat, the smell of danger filling his nostrils. “Whatever you say, take me with him, I’ll escape somehow, I will, I swear it.” She glanced at Erikki. “If Mac and all the others have fled, you could be used as a hostage.”
“I know. I have to get out as fast as I can. But you have to stay. You can’t give up your religion just because of the two years, much as I loathe leaving you.”
“Would Tom Lochart leave Sharazad for two years?”
“That’s not the point,” Erikki said carefully. “You’re not Sharazad, you’re the sister of a Khan and you swore to stay.”
“That’s between me and God. Tommy wouldn’t leave Sharazad,” Azadeh said stubbornly, “Sharazad wouldn’t leave her Tommy, she lov - ” “I must know your plan,” Hakim interrupted coldly.
“Sorry, I trust no one in this.”
The Khan’s eyes narrowed to slits, and it took all of his will not to call the guard. “So there’s an impasse. Azadeh, pour me some coffee, please.” At once she obeyed. He looked at the huge man who stood with his back to the fire. “Isn’t there?”
“Please solve it, Hakim Khan,” Erikki said. “I know you to be a wise man and I would do you no harm, or Azadeh harm.”
Hakim accepted the coffee and thanked her, watched the fire, weighing arid sifting, needing to know what Erikki had in his mind, wanting an end to all this and Erikki gone and Azadeh here and as she always was before, wise and gentle and loving and obedient - and Muslim. But he knew her too well to be sure she would not do as she threatened, and he loved her too much to allow her to carry out the threat.
“Perhaps this would satisfy you, Erikki: I swear by God I will assist you, providing your plan does not negate my sister’s oath, does not force her to apostasize, does not put her in spiritual danger or political danger…” He thought a moment, “… does not harm her or harm me - and has a chance of success.”
Azadeh bridled angrily. “That’s no help, how can Erikki possib - ” “Azadeh!” Erikki said curtly. “Where are your manners? Keep quiet. The Khan was talking to me, not you. It’s my plan he wants to know, not yours.” “Sorry, please excuse me,” she said at once, meaning it. “Yes, you’re right. I apologize to both of you, please excuse me.”
“When we were married, you swore to obey me. Does that still apply?” he asked harshly, furious that she had almost ruined his plan, for he had seen Hakim’s eyes cross with rage and he needed him calm, not agitated. “Yes, Erikki,” she told him immediately, still shocked by what Hakim had said, for that closed every path except the one she had chosen - and that choice petrified her. “Yes, without reservation, provided you don’t leave me.”
“Without reservation - yes or no?”
Pictures of Erikki flashed through her mind, his gentleness and love and laughter and all the good things, along with the brooding violence that had never touched her but would touch anyone who threatened her or stood in his way, Abdollah, Johnny, even Hakim - particularly Hakim.
Without reservation, yes, she wanted to say, except against Hakim, except if you leave me. His eyes were boring into her. For the first time she was afraid of him. She muttered, “Yes, without any reservation. I beg you not to leave me.”
Erikki turned his attention to Hakim: “I accept what you said, thank you.” He sat down again. Azadeh hesitated, then knelt beside him, resting her arm on his knees, wanting the contact, hoping it would help to push away her fear and anger with herself for losing her temper. I must be going mad, she thought. God help me…
“I accept the rules you’ve set, Hakim Khan,” Erikki was saying quietly. “Even so I’m still not going to tell you my pl - Wait, wait, wait! You swore you’d help if I didn’t put you at risk, and I won’t. Instead,” he said carefully, “instead I’ll give you a hypothetical approach to a plan that might satisfy all your conditions.” Unconsciously his hand began stroking her hair and her neck. She felt the tension leaving her. Erikki watched Hakim, both men ready to explode. “All right so far?”
“Go on.”
“Say hypothetically my chopper was in perfect shape, that I’d been pretending I couldn’t start her properly to throw everyone off, and to get everyone used to the idea of the engines starting and stopping, say I’d lied about the fuel and there was enough for an hour’s flight, easily enough to get to the border an - ”
“Is there?” Hakim said involuntarily, the idea opening a new avenue. “For the sake of this hypothetical story, yes.” Erikki felt Azadeh’s grip tighten on his knee but pretended not to notice. “Say in a minute or two, before we all went to bed, I told you I wanted to try to start her again. Say I did just that, the engines caught and held enough to warm her and then died, no one’d worry - the Will of God. Everyone’d think the madman won’t leave well alone, why doesn’t he quit and let us sleep in peace? Then say I started her, pushed on all power and pulled her into the sky. Hypothetically I could be away in seconds - provided the guards didn’t fire on me, and provided there were no hostiles, Green Bands, or police with guns on the gate or outside the walls.”