by Ada Haynes
“Tell your bodyguard to stop intimidating Maire Kincaid, Ekbeth. Before she decides to call her husband.”
“Then give me Shona McLeod.”
A sigh. “Can’t do that, and you know it. Anyway, Shona’s left the country. I have no clue where the girl is at the moment.”
“That’s a lie, Matheson. You can trace her on that mobile phone of yours.”
“Not anymore. She explained to me that you and everyone in that secret place of yours were going to look for her. I could not take any risk, so I removed the tracking device from her.”
Ekbeth cursed softly. He had thought they would manage to get hold of the mobile phone. But then, so had Matheson, of course.
“Has she also told you why we are looking for her, this time?”
“You mean, apart from the fact that she hurt your cousin? Yes, she has. Though I already knew about it. You tried to impose a wedding on her. I did warn you. You should have listened to me.”
Ekbeth growled, “You were there when Kalem told me the news. It was not my decision. Neither is it only my decision to track her and bring her back to the Valley for punishment. Though, after what she has done to Lyrian, I can only agree with the sentence. She deserves to die.”
There was a small pause on the other side of the line, and then Matheson said, “I understand your feelings, Ekbeth. God knows she drives me crazy as well. Still, I disagree with you. Shona’s suffered enough. She deserves happiness. And your cousin should not have been so stupid. I told you that she was a very determined woman when on a mission. Had he just given her the ring instead of playing the tough guy… Anyway, this call is about Maire Kincaid, not Shona. Maire’s husband, and, yes, that’s my boss, has a lot of influence and could make you very sorry for annoying his wife. Leave the woman alone.”
Ekbeth met influential people every hour of the day. He was used to threats. He was not impressed, so he answered, resolutely, “We’ll only do that after we’ve found Shona.”
“Then, don’t complain about consequences, Ekbeth. You think Shona is bad? Our boss is worse. You don’t want him as an enemy.”
With this, Matheson hang up.
*
Ekbeth had quite forgotten about the conversation and was enjoying a late lunch on his terrace when his mobile phone rang. Damn, probably his secretary checking on him. Or Kalem. But it was neither of the two. It was the manager of his Extreme-Orient operations.
“Sir! We need you here urgently. The Chinese are going mad! They want to close their accounts! All of them! Within the hour! And we started getting calls from the Japanese.”
What was this now? The Chinese, or more exactly the Triads, had been his best customers for the past decade. He was actually quite proud to have gained their trust.
Them closing their accounts meant a huge loss of cash for the bank—cash they did not currently have available. And if rumors of this got to the other customers… He did not want to think about it.
“I’m coming.”
He only then noticed the message pending on the phone. He called his voicemail and listened. He was certain he had never heard the man’s voice before. The message was short and to the point: leave Maire Kincaid alone if he wanted to avoid bankruptcy.
Matheson’s warning about consequences had not been idle, after all. He had never expected this, though. Who had enough influence on the Triads that they would all decide to close their bank accounts at his order? No name came to his mind.
He looked at the number. A caller from England? He would solve that mystery later.
He needed to call Kalem. And to go to his office in Shanghai.
Ara! What a mess! First Kimiel. Then his cousin. And now, this crisis!
Talk of a nice welcome back from the Valley.
33
It became a sort of routine during the following weeks. Go to the immigration office in the morning, fighting her way through the very crowded building to one of the civil servants, then ask to see the manager, then wait inside a room which visibly could not handle the daily crowd that came for a visa or other paperwork. Sometimes she managed to see the man, who invariably offered her tea and asked her to come back tomorrow. Sometimes she saw no one.
She could not blame them. The place was busy. Somehow, the brand new computers did not seem to accelerate the process.
Waiting outside was not much better, but sometimes she had to leave the building because the crowd was too much for her nerves. Outside meant a view of badly parked trucks on each side of the road, and, in front of her, buildings that seemed ready to collapse. That was the Indian side of Phuentsholing.
The Bhutanese part was beyond the Gate. She could go there in the afternoon, at least, after the customs office closed. That much had been granted to her. But no further.
She spent most of her afternoons in the so-called park, eating snacks and reading books. Sometime chatting with Bhutanese people. They were invariably surprised to hear her speak Dzongkha. Some of them insisted on speaking English. But others were more than happy to let her practice her language skills. To avert any questions about her private life, she told them that she had been teaching English in a high school in Thimphu, the capital, for some years now. Though she got asked many questions anyway. Bhutanese were terribly curious, and very open about sexual relationships. She even got a few offers. Thankfully, she was used to that from the past and knew how to deter them with grace.
Evenings were spent in the Indian part—mostly in her hotel room.
After almost one month she was starting to grow impatient. She had read all the borrowed books, and the hotel room was getting too small for her liking. She was pretty sure that she had seen a cockroach a day or two ago on the wall, though the owner assured her it was impossible.
It came to the point that she had to resist her claustrophobia before entering the immigration office. She was having serious thoughts about breaking into the office at night and stamping her passport herself, and had started planning the break-in when the miracle happened.
There was a brand new car waiting in front of the immigration office that morning. Covered with dust, certainly, but still very new.
A civil servant was waiting for her when she entered the building and ushered to the small office of the Senior Civil Servant, who was attending to his guests. Important guests.
The Senior Civil Servant even bowed to her! That was unusual.
“Shona-la. These people have come to attest your claim is legitimate. If you have your passport with you, we’ll arrange the stamps while you drink your tea. And you will go with them in their car.”
She could not believe it! Finally!
She turned towards the guests. She did not recognize the man sitting on the left, but the red silk scarf around his body and his sword were indication enough that this was somebody important. Bhutanese used the scarf, called kabney in their language, to distinguish their rank. Yellow was for the king and the head abbot. Red was for someone with a high level in the administration.
But her attention was more on the second man. Because she knew him. And she suddenly regretted not having spent more time getting dressed this morning. She was not even wearing a kira, the national costume—just some old pair of jeans and a tee-shirt that had seen better days. Damn!
She bowed deeply before the Abbot of the Lhuentse Dzong, murmuring the long conventions of greeting. She felt the man place something soft around her neck—a white khata. With his hands on her shoulders, he prompted her to rise.
“I’m glad to see you again, Shona-la. We thought you dead.”
She was about to answer him when she took a good look at the third man and recognized him. She could not help but stare… and stare…
This was just… impossible! The man had a nasty scar across his face and his hair had grayed considerably since she’d seen him last, but that smile! She would recognize it anywhere!
She extended her hand towards him, but did not dare touch him.
He took a ste
p towards her. It was true! Someone else had survived the massacre!
She could not help it. She started crying. “Dorje-la. I thought you dead! I’m so very very glad to see you!”
It was too much. She did not care what the other men would think. She took another step forward and hugged her brother-in-law.
This was worth all the long weeks of waiting.
34
Calling back Kalem from London and making an apologetic call to Maire Kincaid had been enough to stop his Chinese customers from wanting to close their accounts. But it had almost been too late, because, by then, all his other customers had heard of the Chinese customers’ decision and wanted to do the same.
It had taken three weeks of heavy traveling and innumerable meetings with his customers, his colleagues on the trade floor, and the various federal banking authorities to quiet the worries and get the situation back to normal.
Ekbeth was exhausted. He could not remember when his last meal had been. He was not the only one. Everyone working for his bank was exhausted. And he had not gone to the Valley once in the whole time. Had not even thought about going there.
He ordered his chief accountant to give a generous bonus to everyone, and then headed for his home dominating the Zurich Lake. He did not enjoy the view that day. He ate whatever his cook had prepared for him, and collapsed on his bed shortly afterwards.
He slept twenty-four hours in a row. When he woke up and went downstairs to get another meal, he found his cousin Lyrian in the kitchen. This, at least, was good news. Ekbeth had not had time to check on his cousin, but Sally’s frequent reports had not been very promising. He had not expected to see Lyrian out of the hospital so soon.
Ekbeth walked to the coffee machine and poured himself a cup. “So they let you out at last?”
Lyrian smiled sadly. “This morning.”
The two men drank in silence for a moment.
“How are you, Lyrian?”
Another long silence. Ekbeth observed Lyrian. This was not his cousin anymore. The old Lyrian would have paced the room while screaming his anger at what had happened to him.
Finally, Lyrian spoke. “I can’t even explain how I feel, Ekbeth. I thought I could handle anything. That woman and her friends showed me how wrong I was. I can’t remember half of what they did to me, you know. Only that it hurt, and I could not control the pain, or get my mouth to shut up. But you know what the worst part is?” Ekbeth shook his head. “When they left me. I was too far gone to realize I was alone, except that I was not hearing their voices anymore. You can’t even imagine what I felt when the medical team finally arrived. I really thought they had left me to die and that no one was going to be worrying about my absence for the next two days, as it was a weekend—not even you, as you were unreachable.”
Lyrian had started to cry, probably without realizing it. Ekbeth did not really know how to react to so much distress. Finally, he took his cousin in his arms and waited for the crisis to pass.
Wiping the tears away, Lyrian stammered, “And then… at the hospital… I realized… I’m not better than them, Ekbeth.”
Ekbeth hushed him. “What they did to you was wrong, Lyrian. But we’ll find Kimiel and she’ll pay for everything. You’re nothing like her.”
His cousin shook his head. “No, I’m not. I’m worse! Oh, don’t get me wrong: I hate the woman! I hope Ara will make her suffer a thousands times what she’s done to me. But – and I hate to admit this- she had a reason for torturing me. Look at what I’ve done to my wife! I almost killed her! And I don’t even have an excuse for it.”
Ekbeth knew perfectly what Lyrian was referring to. The beating his cousin had given his then wife Sarah-Lysliana when she had announced to him that she wanted a divorce. It had been a very close call for her, indeed.
They had discussed this before. Lyrian had never been able to explain exactly why he had beaten her. The only explanation they could agree on was Lyrian’s As’mir upbringing. Divorce was allowed outside Kse’Annilis, but the As’mirin would not even consider it. That was why Lyrian had taken the news so badly. Too much pride.
Ekbeth’s personal theory was that his cousin had panicked. Lyrian loved his wife deeply. He probably could not even imagine living without her. And they had a son. But he had not been able to make Sarah-Lysliana change her mind. So he had over-reacted and let instincts take over.
The consequences were that Lyrian had not only lost his wife, but had also been banished from the Valley. They had discussed this many times. Lyrian had never shown any contrition. Until today.
Lyrian was shaking under Ekbeth’s grip. “I was so full of myself, Ekbeth! It was only about me. I gave her everything. She could not leave me! The shame of it. And the emptiness I had inside of me. It was hurting so much inside me that I had to take it out on someone. I didn’t even care about her reasons for leaving me. ”
Ekbeth thought for a moment. He had not been directly involved in that story, so had never really asked himself why Sarah-Lysliana wanted to leave her husband, but suddenly he realized he knew the answer. It was probably when Sally had discovered her real family was the McLeans, and that she was living with one of their enemies.
She must have panicked as well. She’d been very young at the time, in her mid-twenties. Talking would probably have been better, but she must have been afraid of her husband’s reaction. And Lyrian’s reaction to her decision had been all wrong.
Ekbeth was not going to try to placate Lyrian with the probable truth, as he saw it. It was certainly not going to be helpful right now. Just let him blame himself a bit more.
“Have you ever asked her that, Lyrian? The reason? Afterwards?”
His cousin shook his head. “I’m such an ass!”
Ekbeth patted him. “Then, I would do that next time I see her, Cousin. And, though I still don’t understand why she would see you, Sarah-Lysliana apparently still cares a bit for you. She was at the hospital, next to your bed, from the beginning.”
Lyrian nodded. “So I was told. She was gone when I regained consciousness. I will ask her… In the meantime, do you mind if I stay here for a while? I just can’t return to my apartment.”
Ekbeth understood the decision perfectly and his house felt rather empty at the moment. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”
Lyrian looked a bit better after hearing that. Ekbeth let go of him. They returned to their seats.
Lyrian sighed. “I’ll never be able to forget, Ekbeth. Even when I’m not sleeping, I keep hearing this voice in my head. “Where is the Kadj’dur? Where is the Kadj’dur?” And that I told her. And all the security codes. But physically, I had no reason to stay in the hospital any longer and lying on a bed all day long without doing anything was not helping. So I’m going to resume work tomorrow.”
Ekbeth wished he could refuse Lyrian’s offer. His cousin was obviously still badly shaken. But Ekbeth needed to concentrate on other issues than his bank right now.
He joked, “Things are under control now. You’ll have an easy job.”
Lyrian made a face. “I know. I’m sorry I was not there to help you with this crisis, Ekbeth.”
Ekbeth shrugged. “You were fighting your own crisis. No blame there.”
Lyrian looked at him for a moment then asked, “At least, it’ll give you more time to find that bitch and bring her to her fate. Any idea where she is?”
Ekbeth shook his head. “Nope. Kalem has been working on it more than I until now. But he reports regularly. He is using all his contacts on both sides to track her down, but so far we can’t find anything on her.”
Lyrian nodded. “And the Chinese connection?”
“Still trying to figure it out. I have a phone number, but I’d rather know first who I am up against before meeting the man. We know it’s Maire Kincaid’s husband, but Kalem can’t find any further information there. Not for lack of trying. It’s just a big administrative hush-hush. So we are trying through our Chinese customers, but you kn
ow how things go there. They are not talking. Wei, our local director, is trying to get information, but he has to step very carefully. I suppose we’ll get some answers at some point in time. I just hope that it’ll be soon.”
“Ah! The Aramalinyia is getting impatient?”
Ekbeth frowned. “Well, as she’s refusing to help with telling us who wrote the letter, or even consult the banishment archives, I certainly hope she’ll avoid complaining.”
Lyrian was surprised. “Why is she refusing?”
Ekbeth shrugged. “I suppose she’s decided to protect the letter writer. Whoever that is. There’s nothing I can do here. I hate to ask you this, Lyrian, but can you remember them telling you who had asked for the Kadj’dur?”
Lyrian quickly shook his head. Ekbeth had not expected any other response.
“If not the Aramalinyia,” Ekbeth continued, “I still expect a High Council meeting when I go to the Valley. The other Akeneires’elin will want to know what I’ve been doing all this time.”
“Just tell them the truth. Those lazy bastards have the easy part! None of them has moved a finger to help you save the bank, or try to find Kimiel so far. Am I right about that?”
Ekbeth had to smile. “Not completely. The McLeans have helped us quite a lot. They have been visiting Kimiel’s family.”
“Family?”
Ekbeth’s smile turned bitter. “Yes. Quite decent people from what Andrew McLean has told me. I have not met them myself, but Kalem has. Even he says there’s no point putting too much pressure there. Her folks have no idea where she is. Kimiel told me her family rejected her. We now realize how true that was. Haven’t seen or heard of her in years, they told us. We put some listening devices at various places in their homes and hope she’ll contact them.”
Lyrian nodded. “And her friends? Matheson and Maire Kincaid?”
“Ah! You’ve seen what putting pressure on them has done. This has backfired badly on us!”