Now she felt uncomfortably bare without one. Her hair was a very fair ash blonde. An unusual color even in Austria, but here in the Levant, it was like a silver beacon. Most of the heads around her were covered with very dark hair, if any hair showed at all. She did not like feeling conspicuous. Her hand made it up to the back of her head in spite of herself. Interesting how one can feel naked when fully clothed.
“Your hair looks beautiful. Leave it be, though I will have to buy you a scarf.” She turned around. Mr. Marshall stood before her, looking at his pocket watch. He snapped the silver cover and tucked it away in his waistcoat. “Fraulein. As I told you before, I will have to make phone calls and send some telegrams before boarding the ship. I would like you and Davies to escort Lord Sonnenby to the Oriana. I have ordered a limousine from the embassy. I will join you presently.”
“As you wish.”
His tone softened a bit, but he did not look at her. He made a show of searching through his wallet. “I am sorry you will not be able to spend any time in the fabulous bazaars here. I promise you will enjoy the ones in Damascus.”
“I did not come here to shop, Mr. Marshall.”
His eyes flicked up at her for a moment and he made that British noise in his throat she had come to associate with him. It sounded like “harrumph.” It was definitely a dismissal. He tucked his wallet into his jacket and moved away from her and soon his bowler was lost in the crowd of other hats. She looked up and down the long train, watching for Davies and Sonnenby to emerge from one of the openings. There. The two men stepped down from the train with two porters behind them. She watched them search for her and find her easily. She touched the back of her hair again.
“Fraulein Schluss, a car waits for us on the other side of this building,” Davies said as he took her elbow. The porter grabbed her bags and she was steered through the crowd. She looked over her shoulder at Sonnenby. He wore no restraints at all and Davies did not seem the least worried he might dissolve into the crowd. In fact, Sonnenby was carrying a leather satchel over one shoulder and appeared cheerful and refreshed as he followed them, looking to the right and the left at the passengers coming and going on the busy platform. She turned to Davies and tried to remove her arm from his grip. He tightened it and said, “Come along, Miss Schluss.”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Davies, but you are hurting my arm. And what about Mr. Sinclair? He has no handcuffs? No shackles? Not even a porter on either side of him?”
Davies shouldered his way through a group of men waiting for a train. He ushered her into the space he made and smiled to himself.
Elsa insisted. “Mr. Davies?”
“Well, miss. I asked Mr. Marshall the same thing not an hour ago. He told me Lord Sonnenby would be dead had he been in restraints when that Turk broke in. He’s right. My lord needs to be able to defend himself.”
Elsa nodded. Very reasonable. She glanced back at Sonnenby who gave her a brief smile. She looked up at Davies and whispered, “Aren’t you afraid he will run away?”
Davies’ face took on a ruddy glow when he looked down at her and answered. “Mr. Marshall said to me, he said ‘Davies, lead the mare and the stallion will follow’.”
Elsa’s mouth dropped open and she tried to set her feet, making Davies stumble as he pulled her along. She sputtered, “’The mare? The mare?”
“Yes. You see? It is working.” Davies jerked her forward with a tug on her arm. “Mr. Marshall must have been raised on a farm, is all I can say.”
She blinked rapidly and drew her breath in, tossing her head. The grip on her arm was firm and she found herself trotting along to keep up with Davies. She looked behind her again to see Sonnenby still following nearly on her heels.
Their car was waiting, the chauffeur had the back door opened and bowed low as Davies neatly thrust her through the door. She clambered over the seat. Her skirt was not full enough to allow her legs enough movement to do it gracefully. By the time she was upright and seated, Sonnenby was close beside her, smiling. He handed her briefcase to her. “You dropped this back on the platform, fraulein.”
“Thank you.” Elsa mumbled. She caught herself with her hand on her chignon again. The porter had put their bags in the boot and the chauffer climbed into the front next to Davies. She stared at the back of the chauffer’s head, hoping Sonnenby would not see the blush she knew was creeping across her cheeks. Lead the mare. Elsa began composing the tongue-lashing for Mr. Marshall when she saw him again. Indeed, Mr. Marshall.
“You are beautiful when you are angry.” Sonnenby’s voice was low to keep the men in the front seat from hearing.
Elsa set her teeth to keep from replying. She was feeling anything but professional right now.
“Are you looking forward to the boat ride? Have you traveled by ship before?’
She took a deep breath to steady her voice. “No, Lord Sonnenby. I have not traveled by ship before.”
“You will enjoy it, I am sure. We have first class tickets.” He sat back in the seat and relaxed as the car pulled away from the station. “It will be like a cruise.”
Elsa turned to look out the window at the crowded streets of Istanbul. Pedestrians hurried out of the way of the few cars and the many donkeys. She saw two camels standing tied together outside a shop. She forgot herself and turned her head as they went by, even swiveling in the seat to keep the animals in sight as long as possible.
“The camels are there to impress the tourists,” Sonnenby said. She turned back to the front avoiding his eye. His voice was amused as he continued. “You will see more of them in Damascus.”
Elsa knew it was fruitless to try to regain her dignity.
The car surged forward and took a sharp turn, scattering small boys with their donkeys to either side of the road. Elsa grabbed the back of the seat in front of her and braced her feet in the foot well against the force of the turn.
Sonnenby cursed. “What are you doing, man? There is a lady back here!”
Davies turned around and his face was serious. “We’re being followed, sir. Marshall told us to be wary of the other cars.”
Sonnenby turned around and looked out the back window at the traffic as did Elsa. She could see another car, a dark sedan, in the billowing yellow dust thrown up by the limousine’s wheels.
“It is suspicious?”
“We have taken many turns not necessary for the route to the harbor. This car,” he gestured over the back of the seat at the rear window, “has made the same turns.” Davies glanced at the chauffer who was concentrating on the road. Pedestrians did not stay safely to the sides of the street. The chauffeur leaned on the horn. Davies looked back. “Even now, sir, you see it has kept pace with us.”
Elsa frowned. “Could it be Mr. Marshall trying to catch up?”
Davies said, “No, miss.”
Sonnenby looked grim. “Give me a pistol, Davies.”
The car took a sharp right. Chickens and stray cats scattered as the driver gunned the engine for a straightaway ahead. The horn continued to blow, warning people to step back from the street. Elsa watched the alarmed faces as they sped past her window, men and women boys and animals jumped back from the road. Some raised fists in the air as they disappeared in the dust.
Davies held tightly to his seat with one hand as he held a pistol in the other. He looked at the sidearm once, as if cementing his decision before leaning forward and handing it to Sonnenby. “I know you are a crack shot, sir. It is good to be handing you a weapon again, sir.”
Sonnenby grunted as he took the gun and examined the cylinder. He sighted along the barrel with the swollen eye closed. The car swerved again.
Elsa wondered at the wisdom of giving a mental patient man a pistol. Davies, however, didn’t blink an eye. She looked from one man to the other.
The car had left the most crowded parts of the city behind, and now travelled a road that paralleled the famous high walls that had protected the ancient city for a thousand years. Elsa held tightly to th
e upholstery, for the road was rough and they bounced violently at this speed.
The dark sedan had not followed one of their turns and this put it farther behind than before, but now it was obvious they were being chased. They were the only two motor vehicles on the narrow road that was climbing a bluff. No more pedestrians choked the road and the chauffeur had the car in the highest gear.
Elsa heard him shift down as they turned again and headed away from the walls and up a steep road towards the villas and orchards of the wealthiest residents of Istanbul. Behind them the sedan followed, getting closer. It was hampered by the dust thrown up by the limousine. She saw the driver of the sedan move the car to the left and right to avoid the thickest clouds and the pebbles thrown up by the wheels.
Sonnenby had finished his examination of his pistol. He rolled down his window and now leaned out. Elsa heard a shot over the roar of the engine and the grinding of the gravel. The dark sedan swerved, but returned to the road quickly. An answering shot pinged off the roof of the limousine. Elsa crouched down in her seat in alarm.
“Get down!” Sonnenby shouted unnecessarily.
Davies cursed and when she looked up at him she could see he was armed as well. “What are they shooting with?”
“They’ve got a rifle,” Sonnenby answered. He took another shot as the car turned. “Military issue.”
“Bloody hell,” was Davies reply. His handgun went out the window and answered the rifle’s retort.
Elsa climbed down into the foot well. Sonnenby touched her shoulder. “Stay down. Don’t worry.”
Her eyes flashed at him. “Don’t worry?” Another shot from the rifle was like an exclamation point. “Gott im Himmel, dummkopf.”
He ducked as a direct hit shook the car. “I understand German fairly well, fraulein.” To the chauffeur he said, “Take the next left and double back. I need a clear shot at the driver.”
Elsa hung on to the seats and kept her face down low near the foot well. She could no longer see what was going on, but could only discern from the bouncing of the car and the terse remarks of the men. The car sped one way, then seemed to turn and accelerate another. She heard two more rifle shots. She peeked over the edge of the seat. Sonnenby was leaning out his window, the pistol pointed behind them.
The car swerved again and she had to clutch at the back of the driver’s seat to stay in place. Then Sonnenby’s pistol rang out with a sharp crack, once, twice. The limousine bounced one more time and slid sideways. The men were shouting something. One side of the car went high in the air as if the two wheels on that side were climbing a rock or some incline. Elsa slid against the door. A strong hand grabbed her by the shoulder and hoisted her back on the seat as the car moved in slow motion to roll over on one side. Her door was now under her knees and Sonnenby was standing next to her, lifting her. She could understand him now.
“Fraulien. Listen, listen. Fraulien. Calm down, Elsa. Elsa. Please, Elsa. You must listen.” She could only see his knees and his high leather army boots, the laces crisscrossed from his ankles to his knees. She grabbed at them and held on tightly. His voice came from above her, still in that honey baritone one uses to soothe frightened animals. “Bitte bitte, leibchen. Davies, I need help with Miss Schluss.” Strong arms lifted her and drew her up and through the door on the other side of the car, the door now high in the air. Fresh air blew in her face and blue sky greeted her. She gulped the air and dug her fingers into the arms that held her.
“Give her to me, Davies.”
She would not let go. If she let go she would tumble again. Everything seemed to be spinning.
“Brunnhilde? Where are you now? A Turk with a long knife did not frighten you, but a short ride in a car has you all upset.”
Elsa turned to the voice and the face that belonged to it came into focus. She looked at him and felt her senses return one by one. She could hear again, and the shivery feeling in her arms and legs bled away to leave only a slight tremor.
“I have just been in an automobile accident,” she tried to say calmly. “I am suffering from shock and adrenaline exhaustion.” It didn’t sound like it was delivered calmly. Her voice sounded unnaturally high pitched to her and the words tumbled out of her mouth out of order and in several languages. She frowned and tried to say it again properly but Sonnenby interrupted her by pulling her to his body and holding her tightly. He was warm and his arms kept her from falling. She heard his voice rumble in his chest.
“Davies. Check them. I am confident they are both dead, but take my pistol and make sure.” She felt his arm move as he handed his pistol to Davies.
“Yes, sir.”
She heard Davies walk away. She was afraid to take her face out of Sonnenby’s shirt. She didn’t want to see the wrecked car or who was dead.
“Miss Schluss? It’s over. It’s over. You can come out now.”
He tried to peel her off his chest. His voice was starting to sound concerned. Elsa made an effort to calm herself. He was right. It was over.
She looked up. His brown eyes were steady and confident. The bruises on his face made him look fierce. She took another breath and stepped back. She realized both of her shoes were gone. She looked down. Her skirt was ripped up one side and her blouse had blood on it. She fingered the splatters. There was no pain under the blood stains. She looked up again with a question in her eyes and Sonnenby’s face became sad.
“The chauffeur.”
She looked at the car. It was on its side, wheels in the air. All the windows were broken. The sedan was a few yards away smashed against a boulder. Davies leaned into one of the windows. There were two neat holes in the windshield, one on either side.
“I need to check the boot of the sedan and search the bodies. Can you stay here by yourself?”
She stood straighter and put a hand to the back of her head. The chignon was gone. Her hair was a tangle down her back. Sonnenby gave her a sad smile. “You’ve been tumbled in the back seat of a car, but not in a nice way.” He took her arm and tried to sit her down on a boulder. The two cars had left the road for some distance and traveled across the raw ground. She saw the road below them as it wound up the hill. She did not want to sit on a boulder.
“Very well, then. Come with me. I want to see what I can before the authorities arrive.”
She followed him silently as he made his way to the sedan. Davies looked up as they approached. He lifted a rifle and nodded. Sonnenby went to the back of the sedan and opened the boot. He bent over the fender and Elsa saw his shoulders moving as he dug through whatever was back there. He stood up with two rifles in his hands. His jaw tightened and his eyes flashed. Davies asked him, “What are they?”
“Lee-Enfield.”
“Surely not, sir.” Davies joined him at the back. “All of them?” His voice sounded incredulous.
“Everything back here is British.”
“Salvaged,” Davies suggested.
“The packing cases are here,” Sonnenby challenged him. “This one has never been fired. There is a case of ammo never opened.”
“Bloody fu—“ Davies shot her a glance and stopped himself.
They both looked at Sonnenby as he searched the horizon, thinking. After a long pause he asked, “Where is Mr. Marshall? Why didn’t he ride with us?”
“No sir. No. Mr. Marshall is not involved.” Davies was adamant.
“Can you be so sure?” Sonnenby’s face hardened. Elsa stepped back a pace, and then another until the back of her legs encountered a boulder. She sat down.
Davies set the rifle on the roof of the sedan with a determined clunk. “I am certain. He has been working on keeping you alive, my lord. Not sleeping at night. He is constantly telling me to look out for this and some other.” Davies rubbed his head. “He found me in Leeds and brought me into his employment, sir. He knew I had been your batman in the war. He thought it would make it easier on you to have someone you knew and trusted. He didn’t have to do that.” He looked long and hard at Sonnenby
before adding, “He could have left you in the asylum.” He paused and added, “Sir.”
Sonnenby was thoughtful. “I am grateful for you, Davies. But I wish to hell I knew what was going on.”
He used his shoulder and elbow like a piston to break out the window of the back seat. He leaned in and pulled out a pistol, examining it as he had done before, and then checked the cylinder before tucking it in his belt. He said to Davies, “What did you find on the bodies?”
“Nothing, sir. They could be Turks.” He shrugged. “They could be Armenians. Arabs. Greeks. Syrians. They are wearing street clothes. They could be anything.”
Sonnenby strode around the sedan and leaned in the open driver’s door. Elsa watched him move the bodies around. He was bent over them for a long time before he stood.
“They are Turks.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sonnenby looked at her. “Come, Miss Schluss, we have a boat to catch.”
She met his eyes, “It’s not going to be much like a cruise, Mr. Sinclair.”
Chapter Six
They had not walked very far down the road before they were met by cars speeding up the hill. The second one had barely stopped before the back door opened and Marshall leaped out. He was on Sonnenby, feeling his shoulders and arms. “My lord, are you hurt?” His face and voice reflected sincere concern and he seemed unaware of the lack of decorum involved in putting his hands on a gentleman.
Sonnenby did not respond, nor did his expression change as he permitted the examination. His voice was very cold when he answered. “I am unharmed, though Miss Schluss is quite disturbed.”
“No, I’m not,” she said.
Marshall turned to her. “Miss Schluss?”
She straightened the cuffs of her torn jacket and smoothed the tattered remnants of her skirt. “I am perfectly fine.”
“You have blood in your hair…”
She and Sonnenby answered together, “The chauffeur.” Elsa looked away for a moment, her composure slipping.
Marshall took her elbow, “Please. This car will take us to the ship.”
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