guards coming toward him. As he attempted to parry them away, he found
his feet tangled in the leather jerkin on the carpet and he stumbled
backward, losing his balance long enough for one of the attackers to
bring his sword around with a heavy sweep and knock his own weapon
spinning into the dark recesses of the tent.
As he grabbed a tent pole for balance he suddenly noticed the dark
outline of two more men approaching behind the guards at the door. In
the shadows he could tell they were shirtless, wearing only dirty
loincloths and the gray turbans of servants. They carried no weapons
and had been attracted by the uproar.
Looking quickly around the tent, he noticed the burning outline of his
oil-soaked powder horn lying on the carpet near his feet. He kicked it
toward the approaching guard and as it struck his leg, the cap jarred
free, sending hissing powder flaming through the tent. The man stumbled
backward in surprise and lowered his sword. Just as he did, Hawksworth
saw one of the servants standing at the doorway slip a naked katar from
his loincloth and seize the guard by the neck. He pulled the attacker
around and with a flash of steel gutted him silently with a savage
upward thrust. The other Imperial guard at the doorway turned just in
time to watch the katar drawn by the second servant enter his own
throat.
Hawksworth stared in astonishment, realizing he had never before seen
the two servants. Even now their faces were largely obscured by the
loose ends of their turbans.
He revolved to see the other two guards turning back toward the opening
that had been cut through the side of the tent, still slapping at the
burning oil on their uniforms. As they reached the opening, they seemed
to hesitate momentarily, then stumbled backward. As they sprawled
across the carpet in front of him, their throats cut, he saw two more
grimy servants standing in the opening, holding bloody katars.
The burning oil blazed across the fringe of a carpet and suddenly the
interior of the tent was crisscrossed with fire.
The four alien servants, all still holding katars, seemed to ignore the
flames as they advanced on Shirin and Hawksworth without a word.
He watched them for a moment in horror, then reached and groped blindly
across the top of his sea chest. It was bare. Then he remembered
Shirin's fall and he felt along the carpet behind the chest, next to
where she stood.
Just as the first man reached the edge of the chest, Hawksworth's hand
closed around the handle of his katar.
Jesus, what do they want? Did they kill the Imperial guards so they
could have the pleasure of murdering us themselves?
Bracing himself against the side of the chest, he swung the blade
upward. He still could not see the attacker's face, masked behind the
end of his turban.
The man stepped deftly to the side and caught Hawksworth's wrist in a
grip of iron, laughing out loud.
"Never try to kill a Rajput with his own katar, Captain Hawksworth. He
knows its temperament too well."
Vasant Rao flipped back the ragged end of his turban.
"What the bloody hell. . . !"
"We've been waiting for you by Shirin's tent. It would appear your
welcome here has run out." He glanced mockingly at Shirin. "So much for
your famous Muslim hospitality."
"You know very well who's responsible." Her eyes snapped back at him.
"I can probably guess." Vasant Rao released Hawksworth's wrist and
stared about the burning tent. "Are you ready to ride?"
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"This is hardly the spot for long explanations. The fact is I'm here
tonight to lead some of our friends back to the camp of His Highness,
the prince. And you, if you cared to join us." Vasant Rao signaled the
men around him to move out through the doorway. The smoke was already
growing dense. "I'm afraid your fire has made our departure that much
more difficult. It wasn't a particularly good idea on your part. Now we
have to ride quickly."
"What about all this?" Hawksworth looked about the burning tent. "I
have to . . ."
"Just roll what you need in a carpet. If you're going with us, you'll
have to leave now. Before the entire Imperial army comes to see us
off."
"But who'd want to kill us?" Hawksworth still could not move as he
stared through the smoke.
"Whoever it was, they'll probably succeed if we wait here talking much
longer."
Hawksworth turned on Shirin.
"You knew!"
"I couldn't tell you before. It would have been too dangerous." She
quickly grabbed a carpet from the floor, stamping out the burning
fringe, then flipped open Hawksworth's chest. She grabbed his lute, a
handful of clothes, his boots, his books, and his depleted purse. As he
watched in a daze, she rolled them in the carpet and shoved it into his
hands. He looked around the burning tent one last time and caught the
glint of his sword lying behind a tent pole. He grabbed it, scooped up
his pistol and jerkin, and took Shirin by the arm as they pushed
through the smoke toward the entrance, stepping over the bodies of the
guards as they emerged into the night air.
Ahead, beside Shirin's tent, waited saddled horses and a group of
turbaned riders. As they ran toward the horses, Hawksworth recognized
several Rajputs from Arangbar's private guard among the horsemen.
"We were ready to ride." Vasant Rao seized the rein of one of the
horses and vaulted into the saddle. "You were out walking or we could
have left sooner. Shirin demanded we wait. It was well we did. Lord
Krishna still seems to be watching over you, Captain."
"Which way are we headed?" Hawksworth helped Shirin into a saddle,
watching as she uncertainly grabbed the horn for balance, then, still
clasping the bundle, pulled himself onto a pawing Arabian mare.
"West. The rest of the men are already waiting at the end of the
valley." Vasant Rao whipped his horse and led the way as they galloped
toward the perimeter of the tent city. "This will be a long ride, my
friend."
As Hawksworth watched the last of the tents recede into the
dark, he saw disappearing with them his final chance for a firman. He
would never see Arangbar again. Probably he would never see London
again.
I've traded it all for a woman. And I still wonder if she's mine.
God help me.