And how he would ruin the family.
It was too much.
See what you’ve done, Fatima?
Samira tugged on his arm.
“Not now, Samira.”
She held something out in her hand, a crumpled piece of paper. “What does it say?”
He eyed her hand then sighed, taking the paper and unfolding it.
Leave with him now! Bring nothing!
It was written in Arabic, though with an unpracticed hand.
But its words changed everything. He took his little sister by the hand. “Where did you get this?”
She pointed toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “It was on the floor.”
“Show me.”
Samira led him out of the room, a room drowning in grief and rage, a room he had to escape. She pointed at the floor in front of Fatima’s room. “It was on the floor, right there.”
“When did you find it?”
“Before Fatima went for fresh air.”
“Did she say anything else?”
Samira shrugged. “I don’t remember.” She stared up at him. “Why is everyone so sad? Is Fatima okay?”
He nodded. “Go to your room and wait for Mother.”
“But I don’t want to—”
He pointed a finger down the hall. “Now!”
She burst into tears and sped away. He felt bad for losing his temper, but he didn’t have time for childish antics. He stepped into Fatima’s room and carefully looked around for anything that might give him a clue as to what had happened, and what the note could mean.
He was about to leave the sparse room when he paused.
Where is it?
The carved figurine of a horse, at an almost impossibly small scale, was missing. It was always proudly displayed, a gift from Samira to Fatima just last year. Samira had been so proud to present it to her sister, and Fatima so happy to receive it, that it was always the first thing she ever showed guests.
And it was gone.
Why would she take that with her?
There was the possibility that someone else had taken it, but if that were the case, then it would be the first time since it had been in Fatima’s possession.
No one touched it.
And it was always on display here, in this room.
He sat in the corner, staring at the note, processing what precious little information he had. He had seen her arguing with Magnus, so obviously the note was from him. But why would he tell her to bring nothing? And then why would she defy him by taking something despite his specific instructions?
The snippets of the argument he had heard suggested she wanted to be with him, which would mean going with him, and he wanted nothing to do with it.
“If you will not have me, then no one will!”
Her final words were chilling, yet they spoke volumes. It was obvious that she was in love with this Viking, and was unwilling to marry the sheik. And it was also obvious that her feelings for Magnus weren’t mutual.
Then why send the note?
Magnus had been adamant he wasn’t interested, though if that were true, then there would have been no reason to meet her, especially as he and his fleet were leaving tomorrow morning, their trading expedition complete. He could have simply left without seeing her, and whatever feelings his sister had for the man would be left unrequited, and any drama would have been avoided.
Bring nothing.
It was those two words that didn’t fit. Why would he care if she brought anything? And why would he have summoned her in the first place? Why meet at the cliff in full view of everyone? There were always people near the cliff.
None of it made any sense.
He needed answers. He needed to know why his sister had killed herself. His family had to provide an explanation to the sheik who had traveled so far to wed Fatima, and who would now be leaving emptyhanded.
He’ll keep the dowry, I’m sure.
And if the marriage were to never take place—as it now never would—everything would be ruined. His father was counting on the lucrative shipping contracts his new son-in-law would bring them, contracts that would line their pockets for years to come. Their entire future, his entire future, had jumped off that cliff today, and he had to know why.
And there was only one man who might know the answers to the questions that consumed him.
Magnus.
15 |
Nobis Hotel Stockholm, Sweden Present Day
Acton tossed his phone on the bed and Laura did the same as they entered their hotel room. They had driven in silence the rest of the way, abandoning their pre-planned route now that there was no point. Acton took Laura by the hand and led her to the bathroom where he closed the door then turned on the shower.
“You don’t think they’ve bugged our room, do you?”
Acton shook his head. “No. Not yet, anyway. I’m more concerned with our devices being hacked. You’ve seen what Tommy can do. I’m sure they’ve got their own whiz kids.”
Laura stared at the door, the only thing between them and two cellphones, eReaders, tablets, and laptops. When it came to tech, they didn’t travel lightly. “So, what do we do?”
“We wait for their instructions, then decide, I guess.”
“We have to go to the authorities.” Laura regarded him, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t we?”
“They have him already, and they have diplomatic immunity.”
“That doesn’t cover kidnapping.”
“No, but right now he’s alive. He can be thrown in front of a bus, found drowned in a bathtub, or OD’d with a needle in his arm. They didn’t make the same mistake they made in Istanbul. This time they kept him alive, and can kill him in any number of ways that leave them in the clear.”
Laura sighed. “You’re right, of course. There’s no way we can trust that the local authorities haven’t been infiltrated somehow.”
“Exactly. We can’t risk locals, but maybe we can risk someone else.”
“Hugh?”
Acton shook his head. “No, he’d have to use official channels, and Interpol I’m sure is infested with Saudis.”
Laura smiled. “Dylan.”
Acton nodded. Dylan Kane was a former student of his, a CIA Special Agent who had proven useful on multiple occasions. “If we can get word to him, he might be able to help us.”
“You better send him the message right away. We don’t know when they might hack our phones.”
Acton pursed his lips, tapping his chin. “Can we risk sending him a message through that secure app he installed? What if they’ve already done it?”
Laura folded her arms, leaning on the counter. “I wish Tommy was here. He’d know what to do.” A smile spread. “I have an idea.”
16 |
Al Lixbuna, Islamic Iberia Caliphate of Córdoba 989 AD
Rafiq waited for Magnus to be summoned, an opportunity provided to watch the men busy themselves preparing to leave, one of the vessels with the distinctive Viking sail already leaving the port.
Yet they weren’t to leave until tomorrow.
And who would depart at dusk rather than dawn?
These Vikings were a strange people, their ways so different from his, that he found they had little in common beyond the desire to trade. His recognition several years ago of the fact they might become important trading partners had led him to learn as much about them as possible, including their odd language from a traveler who had spent several years living among them. Though he would never consider himself fluent, his Norse was as good as Magnus’ Arabic, and it was why his family’s business had been chosen by the Vikings upon their arrival.
He had been the only one able to greet them in their native tongue.
Magnus finally appeared, extending his hand. “Rafiq! What brings you here, my friend?”
Rafiq frowned, the man’s charming personality always winning him over, despite his determination to not trust the man so different from everything he knew. “I tho
ught you weren’t leaving until tomorrow?”
Magnus glanced over his shoulder at the work carried out behind him. “That was my intention, but our business here is concluded, so I decided we should leave when ready. The men are eager to get home.”
Rafiq nodded, disappointed that the explanation was sound. He wanted this man to be guilty of something, something that might explain why his sister had killed herself, yet he could think of no way to find out anything without being direct. “I’m afraid I have bad news with respect to my sister.”
Magnus’ eyes narrowed. “What’s happened?”
“You don’t know?”
Magnus’ eyes flared slightly. “Evidently.”
“She committed suicide.”
Magnus’ eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “But that can’t be! Why would she do such a thing?”
Rafiq drew a breath, knowing this was the moment he had been waiting for. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
This appeared to catch Magnus off guard, his eyes narrowing with confusion as he took a slight step back. “Why would I know? I barely knew her except to see her at your home when your father showed me the honor of his hospitality.”
Rafiq’s chest tightened at the lie. “Then why did you see her not one hour ago, only moments before she threw herself off the cliff and into the ocean?” He held up the note. “Why did you send for her?”
Magnus’ eyes widened at the sight of the paper, then sighed, dropping his head while gripping his forehead. “Fine, I suppose there’s no harm in you knowing now that she’s dead.”
Rafiq tensed, surprised the man would reveal his secrets so easily. “What? What is it I don’t know? What are you keeping from me?”
Magnus frowned, finally lifting his head and staring at Rafiq. “Your sister was in love with me.”
Rafiq’s eyes bulged as his suspicions were confirmed. Yet it made no sense. There had never been any opportunity for such emotions to develop. “I don’t believe it.”
Magnus lowered his voice, as if to protect Rafiq’s family’s honor. “It’s true, I’m afraid.” He held up a hand. “And I must assure you that nothing dishonorable happened. It was simply the curiosity of a young woman who was intrigued by something different. I spotted her staring at me when I first came to your house and thought nothing of it, but she began having notes sent to me, then tried to gain my attention on subsequent visits. I, of course, ignored all her advances, as I wouldn’t dishonor your father that way, but she persisted.”
Rafiq’s chest ached and his stomach churned at the explanation, an explanation he found plausible knowing his foolish little sister. “And is that why you met her today?”
“Yes. She had sent me a message, demanding we meet, otherwise she would tell your father that I had been, well, inappropriate with her. I agreed to meet, I made my position clear, then I left.” He gestured at his men, rushing about. “I thought it best to leave sooner rather than later, in case she made good on her threat.”
“She didn’t.”
Magnus nodded, regret on his face. “In a way, I wish she had. Though it would have resulted in difficulties for me, at least she would be alive to be reasoned with.” He gripped Rafiq’s shoulder. “You have my condolences, my friend.”
“Thank you.” Rafiq paused. “Why did you tell her to bring nothing?”
Magnus frowned, his head shaking slowly. “In addition to the messages, she began sending gifts. I feared she might bring me something, and I didn’t want that.”
Rafiq’s shoulders slumped at another perfectly reasonable explanation. He shook Magnus’ hand. “I wish you a safe journey home, and I apologize on behalf of my family for any trouble my sister may have caused you.”
Magnus smiled slightly. “No apology is necessary. I’m sure we have all done foolish things in matters of the heart.”
Rafiq frowned. “This is true.” He stepped onto the dock and looked down at Magnus. “May Allah protect you on your voyage, Viking.”
Magnus bowed slightly and Rafiq turned, watching another Viking ship set sail.
And he paused.
He turned back to Magnus. “One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“I saw one of your ships by the cliff. Why was it there?”
Magnus’ eyes widened slightly. “Excuse me?”
“One of your ships was near the cliff.”
“Oh yes, I forgot about that. I sent one of the ships home earlier with a sick man in the hope he’ll get to see his family one last time before he dies.”
Rafiq nodded, again the explanation plausible. “And will he make it?”
Magnus shook his head, a frown creasing his face. “I fear it’s doubtful.”
Rafiq sighed. “Then it would appear we have both lost this day.”
17 |
Nobis Hotel Stockholm, Sweden Present Day
The expected knock at their hotel room door still caused both of them to flinch. Acton rose, Laura switching to a chair by the window as the knock was repeated. He opened the door to a smiling staff member, a cart with a hastily ordered lunch rolling in.
Acton let the young man complete his spiel, then the bill was handed over for him to sign. He did, adding a generous tip, then before returning it, tilted the bill holder up slightly. “How would you like another thousand?”
The man’s eyes bulged. “Sir?”
“I need to use your cellphone.”
The man seemed even more confused. “Sir?”
“Both ours aren’t working here. American phones, so I guess they’re not compatible. I need to send an important text message to a friend. I’ll give you an extra thousand kronor for one text message.”
A slight smile appeared. “Umm, I suppose so.” He reached into his pocket then paused. “This isn’t anything illegal, is it?”
Acton chuckled, glancing back at Laura. “He thinks we’re drug dealers.”
Laura laughed. “Just spies, darling, just spies.”
The young man shrugged. “I guess it’s all right.” He handed Acton the phone after activating it with his thumb. Acton quickly sent as succinct a message as he could to Reading, then once he saw it was delivered, deleted it from the phone. He handed it back then reopened the bill holder, adding a ‘10’ in front of the tip.
“Thanks.”
The young man’s eyes bulged then he backed out of the room, bowing. “If you need anything, Mr. Acton, you just ask for Elias.”
“I’ll do that.” Acton closed the door, Laura already at the food.
“I think you just made a friend.”
Acton shrugged. “He could prove useful, you never know.” Laura took her plate and sat cross-legged on the bed. He eyed her. “You can eat at a time like this?”
She shrugged. “Who knows when we’ll get another chance. I say we eat as much as we can, then wait for their call. It has to be coming soon.”
Acton sighed then joined her. “Let’s just pray Hugh gets the message.”
And can help us.
18 |
Al Lixbuna, Islamic Iberia Caliphate of Córdoba 989 AD
Magnus watched Rafiq as the concerned, distraught brother walked away. Guilt racked him at the pain he had caused, though the thought of Fatima, waiting for him, helped ease it. He turned as shouts erupted behind him, another of his ships setting sail. Each of the six vessels under his command had orders to sail the moment they were ready. If the truth were to be discovered, then their lives would be forfeit, and he wasn’t willing to see his men punished for something he had done.
This entire situation was foolish, and he knew it. When he returned home, his father would likely revoke his title for having risked everything over a woman. But this woman was unlike any he had ever met, and this woman was to be his wife. He was convinced that once his father witnessed the love they shared for each other, the man would come around.
Yet that all depended on them making it out of port with the deception undiscovered.
He didn’t int
end to ever return here again. There were plenty of places along the coast where they could trade, and this was a long voyage he would no longer be willing to make once he had a family back home.
Though if he knew his father, he’d probably be forced to continue his responsibilities. After all, one day he was to be King.
He chewed his cheek for a moment as he watched a group of Muslim women pass with their escort, their traditional dress so plain and unrevealing, he found it impossibly enticing. Viking women were never ashamed to show skin. They were strong, willing and able to fight when necessary, and capable of incredible tenderness when not.
He had been in love once, madly, but Odin had taken her from him before they could be married, and he had sworn off matters of the heart from that moment on.
Until he had met Fatima.
There was something about her that he had found alluring, and when he had managed to speak to her for just a few moments, his heart had nearly pounded out of his chest with excitement. Notes had indeed been secretly exchanged, though unlike the story he had fed her brother, they had been mutual and welcome.
Then the clandestine meetings had been arranged, then the forbidden encounter that he would never forget for as long as his lips drew breath. It had been exciting, wonderful, and the love in her eyes as he took what she offered had swelled his heart with joy, and he swore he would do whatever it took to be with her, to protect her, to provide for her, and to be the only man who would ever possess her heart.
That was when the plan to fake her death had begun, though it had been a mere fantasy. He had intended to ask her father for his permission to marry her, and in exchange, grant him the exclusive contract to act on behalf of all Viking trade missions to the port.
It would have made the man very wealthy, enough that Magnus had hoped it might overcome the fact he wasn’t Muslim. But with the announcement of the arranged marriage, everything had changed, and what was once fantasy had been thrust into reality.
The Viking Deception Page 6