Fallon sighed. “Percy, you seem able to fix up everything for everybody, except getting me back my kingdom.” He turned to Daly. “You know, those tanks of yours wouldn’t have been worth a brass arzu against anybody who knew about them ahead of time. They could easily have been ditched, or overturned, or set afire.”
“I know, but the Balhibuma didn’t,” said Daly.
Fallon turned back to Mjipa. “How about Gazi and Wagner and those people? And my friend Kordaq?”
Mjipa frowned in thought. “As far as I know, Captain Kordaq never came back from Chos—so he’s either dead, or a slave in Qaath. Gazi’s living with Fredro.”
Fallon grinned wryly. “Why, the old . . .”
“I know. He took an apartment—said he’d probably be here for a year or more, so . . . Dismal Dan Wagner, you’ll be pleased to hear, tried to lower himself down the city wall by a rope one night and was shot by a Qaathian archer.”
“Fatally?”
“Yes. It seems he’d been trying to reach Majbur to cash a draft from the late Qais on Kastambang’s bank, not knowing that the Balhibou government sent orders by the last train from Zanid to the Majbur bank to sequester Kastambang’s account, he being a convicted traitor.”
“Unh,” said Fallon.
Dr. Nung appeared, saying: “You must go now, gentlemen. The patient has to rest.”
“Very well,” said Mjipa, rising. “Oh, one more thing. As soon as you’re well enough to travel, we shall have to smuggle you out of the city. The Zaniduma know you spied for Ghuur. They can’t arrest and try you openly, but a lot of them have sworn to assassinate you at the first opportunity.”
“Thanks,” said Fallon without enthusiasm.
###
A Krishnan year later, a disreputable-looking Earthman slouched along the streets of Mishé, the capital of Mikardand. His eyes were bloodshot, his face bore a stubble of beard, and his gait was unsteady.
He had peddled a small item of gossip to Mishé’s newspaper, the oldest of Krishna. He had drunk half the proceeds and was on his way with the remainder to the dismal room that he shared with a Mikardando woman. As he staggered along, Anthony Fallon muttered. The passing Knight of Qarar who turned to stare did not understand the words, not knowing English.
“I can only work one deal—one good old coup—I’ll get an army, and I’ll take that ruddy army to Zamba, and I’ll be king again . . . Yesh, king!”
The Virgin of Zesh & the Tower of Zanid Page 27