I thought he’d ask more about Joseph. But we were now approaching one of the larger dunes, and I could see Karim waiting there as agreed. I wriggled into a more comfortable upright position and stared at Edward.
‘These are all worthless questions,’ I said. ‘There will be no investigation of the murder attempt. There will be no further discussions of Joseph or of Jarrow.’ I shut down the confused objection with a wave of my hand. ‘I want you to know that your usefulness to Meekal will soon be at an end. Don’t try reminding me of the oath he took in front of Karim and all those religious scholars. If he broke his public oath to an emperor, you can forget about any promises he might have made in private. Besides, Karim is also on his list. Meekal spoke to me last month of the statue I commissioned of myself back in my twenties. I had it done in the ancient style – all nudey and tarted-up realistic. He asked if Karim didn’t remind me of the thing. Of course, I passed it all off with a joke. Even so, I’ve seen him staring thoughtfully at Karim. The moment I’ve given him the last secret of that weapon – and it can’t be held back beyond tomorrow – he’ll have me killed. He’ll then kill you. He’ll also kill Karim. He suspects the blood relationship, and he doesn’t want a Saracen blood feud on his hands – not even from someone like Karim. Because he wants the matter to end there, he’ll get Karim sentenced to death in the regular way. But it’s certain death for us all.’
‘But he can’t kill Karim,’ Edward broke in. ‘He’s Saracen nobility. He’s too well connected.’
I laughed again. That wasn’t how Karim had seen things when I’d explained myself earlier. I’d almost had to offer him wine to bring him out of the resulting funk.
‘He can and will kill the poor lad,’ I replied. ‘Except for a sort of stepmother who’s little more than a prisoner in the palace, his connections are all far off in Medina. And they are all part of the losing side in the last civil war. It’s a shame you didn’t understand what Meekal was told in that obscene ceremony. But its meaning has always been clear enough to me. My grandson fancies himself as the next caliph. And he thinks he’ll be that before the close of business tomorrow. I didn’t look too closely. But, when I was there the day before yesterday, I saw that the fire kettles had been mounted on a new base that swivels. His first demonstration of the Greek fire will be against the Caliph and anyone sitting beside him. That will probably be the whole Council. He’ll blow the Caliph and all his Council to charcoal. Then he’ll do away with me. Then he’ll finish things for the pair of you. Don’t try telling me otherwise. I’ve known the fucker all his life. I know the workings of his mind. Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven just about sums up his entire approach to this long and expensive project.’
We were now almost level with Karim. He smiled uncertainly back at me and bowed. ‘Edward, I want you to get on that horse and bolt for it with Karim. The commander of the guard has been bribed and will look the other way unless he’s forced to notice what’s happening. You have twelve pounds apiece of Meekal’s gold. That should get you to Medina with plenty left over. Meekal can’t last as caliph. He’s not a Saracen. And, again, I know him. He’ll grasp at power like at sand – the harder he grasps, the more it will slip between his fingers. He’ll be gone within a few months – a year at most. You can then come back here if you want. Or you can go anywhere else within this vast but ramshackle empire.’
There was no point trying to restrain the babble of protests that now broke from Edward’s lips. I let it pour out until the boy was short of breath.
‘We haven’t long now,’ I said urgently. ‘So don’t waste my time with talk about taking me with you. One way or the other, my life will soon be over. Even Meekal won’t be up to making the end specially painful. For you, blinding and castration will just be the start of things. I’ll repeat myself. You got me out here using poor Wilfred as your hostage. You then stepped unwittingly straight into his shoes. Now, I’m giving you the chance to get away before it’s too late. Take the chance and go. It’s too late for elaborate farewells. Just go. If you want to thank me, do so by living better than you’d have managed in England. Live long as well – disprove what I sneered at you all those ages ago back in Jarrow. But go now. Take my last command as your lord – and go!’
Edward grabbed at my hand and kissed it. He wanted to say more, but he was shaking too hard with sobs, and Karim was making desperate clicking noises to keep the horses calm. They mounted together. I heard a long groan of agony from Edward as his own horse darted forward. They scrambled up the high bank to the top of a dune. They looked down a moment on me and on the long caravan of armed might surrounding my chair. I looked away and didn’t watch them disappear over the other side of the dune. Assuming we took the usual time to get to the Saint Theodore Monastery, and assuming I could keep Meekal busy with our joint unlocking and registering, they’d have a thirty-mile start on any pursuit. That was the most they’d have, though. Meekal would eventually realise his hostage was gone, and would certainly lead the pursuit. And he was fast on horseback. But thirty miles, and no surety as to their direction of escape – that should be enough.
I drank deep from my beer jug. I focused on the merry jingle of the bells on my chair as I fought back the tears. It would have been glorious to be with them – speeding across the level sand towards the horizon, towards adventures that might give some minstrel a lifetime of unlikely tales. But, for all I could give myself new hair and teeth and ears and eyes, even I couldn’t make the waters of time flow uphill.
Chapter 62
‘Did you catch up with them?’ I asked in Greek. I splashed with every appearance of happiness in the bathwater – cool this time, and a great relief after a day of almost lunatic activity in the desert.
‘Get out of here – all of you!’ Meekal roared at the attendants. They dropped their instruments of cleansing and bolted from the room. Meekal pulled the door shut with a crash that made all the glass pieces in the window rattle. Still sweaty and covered in sand from the long and fruitless chase through the desert, he towered over me. ‘What the fuck are you up to?’ he demanded, back in Greek.
‘Nothing, my dear – nothing at all,’ I said. I took up a flask of scented oil and poured some of it over my scalp. ‘I can only tell you that Karim rolled up late while we were somewhere outside Damascus and suggested another race across the sand. That’s what I told you when we met up earlier. And that really is all I can tell you now. I can’t imagine why you’re making such a fuss about things. I fail to see why you had to dash straight off into the desert with your escort and leave me alone all day with dear Silas for company. If it hadn’t been for the Caliph’s inspection tomorrow, I’m sure I’d never have got him to break all your security rules, not to mention some of your locks. All that – and the boys will probably soon be back here for a late dinner. In a moment, I’m sure Edward will come through that door. What a silly man you are to get into such a lather. Was the auditing so stressful?’
With a shout of rage, Meekal plunged his arms into the bath and searched round for the plug.
‘You’ll find that it’s all controlled by that lever just above my feet,’ I said helpfully. He got hold of the lever and twisted it up until it came off in his hands. ‘Oh dear!’ I cried. ‘Do you know the price of good plumbing repairs? That will be another bill for the auditors to wave under your nose.’ I raised my arms and waited for Meekal to control himself sufficiently to help me out of the tub. He stood in grim silence as I rubbed the water off my body and got myself into a sleeved robe. Taking care not to slip on the tiles, I walked slowly over to the door. I led him into one of the sitting rooms and arranged myself on a sofa that faced towards the window. The sun had now gone entirely down. Fortunately, the lamps were already lit.
‘Now do sit down and join me in a little drink,’ I said in a reassuring tone. I pointed at a low armchair with its back to the window. ‘Let’s have a quiet rest and wait for some glimmer of common sense to light up your rage-blackened mind.�
� I pointed at a closed cupboard that had, the last time I opened it, contained a sealed jar of wine and some cups. I waited for Meekal to calm himself with a few cups. I did think of some fulsome praise for the palace maintenance people who’d done such an excellent job on the repairs. Except for some building dust that hadn’t yet been swept away, you’d never have guessed what effort had been put in during the day. But Meekal was calming down, and it wouldn’t do to set him off again with irrelevant chatter. I sat quietly with my cup of wine and the few private thoughts I permitted myself.
‘Have I not played fair with you?’ he asked eventually. ‘I’ve played fair with you, and more than fair. Why are you shitting on me now?’ I finished my own cup and lay back on the soft cushions of the sofa. I hadn’t dried myself properly, and was beginning to feel slightly chilly. ‘Since it’s plain you won’t tell me anything at all,’ Meekal said, getting up, ‘I see no point in prolonging this conversation. I’m going out into the desert to see that all really is arranged for tomorrow. If it isn’t as I expect, I’ll impale everyone in sight, and be back here before morning.’ He pushed his face close to mine. ‘Haven’t I played fair with you?’ he asked again.
‘You’ve never played fair with anyone,’ I sneered, now switching into Saracen. ‘However, don’t accuse me of shitting on you. If you promise to be a good boy, I’m inclined to do you a bigger favour than you deserve.’ I waited till he’d controlled himself again, and pointed to the back of the window seat. ‘I suggest you pull off the fine silk of that upholstery. Go on,’ I urged, ‘get over there and rip it all away. I’m sure it will make many things clear.’
Uncertainly, Meekal walked over to the seat and pulled at the silk backing. As it came away in his hands, the wood panelling of the wall showed – together with an eighteen inch by nine hole in the wood. Meekal looked at this a moment. Biting on suddenly white lips, he turned back to me.
‘So far as I can tell,’ I said, ‘there’s one of these in every room. I think you go two – or perhaps three floors down from here: it’s a few months since I got myself down there, and I’m hazy about how many turns in that ramp I had to make. But one of the sealed doors shows evidence of regular tampering. Why don’t you go down and take a look of your own?’
I stretched full out on the sofa and stared at the ring of lamps that hung from the ceiling. I counted to a hundred, then opened my mouth and recited in my loudest and most sarcastic voice: ‘quo usque tandem abutere Catilina patientia nostra? quam diu etiam furor iste tuus nos eludet? quem ad finem sese effrenata iactabit audacia?’ I broke off with a laugh and called out in Saracen; ‘Have you killed anyone yet, dearest Meekal?’ I laughed again. Now choking back the laughter, I continued this most wonderfully apposite recitation of Cicero: ‘nihilne te nocturnum praesidium Palati nihil urbis uigiliae nihil timor populi nihil concursus bonorum omnium nihil hic munitissimus habendi senatus locus nihil horum ora uoltusque mouerunt? patere tua consilia non sentis constrictam iam horum omnium scientia teneri coniurationem tuam non uides? quid proxima, quid superiore nocte egeris, ubi fueris quos conuocaueris quid consili ceperis quem nostrum ignorare arbitraris?’ I had my mouth open for the ‘O tempora o mores!’ when Meekal came back into the room.
‘So, those birds also were flown,’ I said, still in Latin, with a nod at the unbloodied sword he carried in his hand. He threw the sword down with a clatter and sat back in the armchair. I got slowly up and poured him another drink. Silly of the man, when you think about it. After all, he’d spent much of his childhood in the Imperial Palace, which is riddled with these channels for carrying sound from one place to another. He should have taken it for granted that nowhere in this palace would be any more secure. But he sat there, utterly crushed. I refilled my own cup and sat back on the sofa. I picked up a cushion and threw it at the hole in the panelling. By a stroke of luck that looked exactly like a skill retained into old age, I got the thing right into the hole. I lifted my cup in a toast to myself and looked at Meekal.
‘Who was listening?’ he asked simply.
‘That old bitch Khadija,’ I said. ‘Why must you trouble me with asking?’
‘Because it saves me the trouble of asking her myself,’ came the answer. ‘So she’s heard everything said within these walls. And that would explain the source of all the information the auditors had in their files earlier today.’ He sat upright and reached for his sword. ‘Since you’ve been good enough to tell me this much, I hope you will agree there is no point in holding back on the rest. Any chance of telling me what the fucking cow is up to now?’
‘Gladly,’ I said. ‘Can you imagine that she tried to have me killed in these very rooms just a few months ago? I think that abolishes any duty of confidentiality. I’ll tell you the lot – on one condition.’ Meekal sat forward. ‘I want the boys to go free,’ I said. ‘Call off your dogs.’
He laughed. ‘Karim is no loss to anyone,’ he said. ‘Alone in that desert, he’d dry up in the sun like a slug. Your boy will probably get him to safety. As for the boy, would you believe me if I said I never had any intention of breaking my oath?’ I smiled and shook my head. Perhaps he was telling the truth. The problem all villains face sooner or later, though, is that no one believes them when they do tell the truth. ‘Whatever the case,’ he said, ‘you get your assurance. I have no “dogs” out looking for them. Now, tell me everything.’
And so I did tell him everything. I told him as much as I’d heard and guessed. Oh, very well – I didn’t tell him everything. Except perhaps with you, dear Reader, I never do that. But I did tell him as much as I cared to let him know, which was quite a lot. ‘Just you threaten that head eunuch of hers with the rack,’ I ended, ‘and he’ll confirm the whole story. He’ll confirm her dealings with the Intelligence Bureau. I strongly suspect he’ll also confirm her dealings with the rebels in the civil war.
‘Now, do you need a list of the names I’ve given you? Personally, I’d rather keep it verbal.’
Meekal shook his head. He’d nearly burst with joy as I’d recited the names Karim had given me. Every one of them was his sworn enemy in the Council. Every one of them, he promised me, would be waiting his turn on the rack once he’d denounced them to the Caliph.
‘It is surely redundant to ask,’ he said with a nasty smile, ‘whether you have taken up Karim’s suggestion of a failure for tomorrow’s demonstration.’
I shook my head. ‘The demonstration, I promise, will be a complete success,’ I said. ‘It will be everything you could ever expect. I only ask you to remember your promise.
‘But you’d better go,’ I said wearily. ‘You can imagine the sort of day I’ve had out in the desert. And I need somehow to get through tomorrow. Yes, go – just go.’
For the first time in ages, I didn’t bother with opium that night. I let the slaves get me to bed. As ever, I said I’d have no one to sit beside me. While someone got up on a stool to put out the lamps, I looked up at the fresh plaster above my bed, and breathed in its damp smell. It reminded me of the house I’d once bought in Rome. I’d been only twenty then. I’d lived for months surrounded by that smell. It was something I’d ever since associated with hope and youth. I’d laughed at the suggestion of a move to some other room. I took a sip of water and wished a good night to the slaves. I then lay back and closed my eyes. It was like falling in darkness into a bath of exactly blood heat.
I was back on my diverted ship to Athens. The Captain had told me we were now just a day from Piraeus, and a shift in the autumn winds meant we’d be approaching through the Saronic Gulf from the west. That meant I’d be able to see the place where, over a thousand years before, the Athenians had surprised and sunk the Persian fleet.
‘What do you suppose would have happened had the Athenians lost?’ I asked of Martin. He leaned beside me on the side of the ship, looking over the flat waters of an early morning. They had a surprisingly dark, oily sheen about them. ‘I mean, suppose the Persians had brought all their superiority to bear, and the Atheni
an fleet had been routed. In the short term, the Persians would have finished conquering Greece. Xerxes would have gone home in triumph. And what would that have meant for the whole subsequent history of the world?’
I’d often had these ‘what if?’ conversations with Martin, and I expected him now to insist that the Athenian victory was the work of God. How otherwise would the Greeks have spread their language and ways over the world, and then had this fixed and preserved after their own conquest by Rome? Since the result was the stage on which was played out the drama of the Gospels, it had to happen. To suppose otherwise was inconceivable. However, he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he let go of the rail, and, surprisingly stable for him, walked a few paces back along the deck.
‘I’ve been waiting for you a very long time,’ he said from behind me. I turned and frowned at him. ‘Everyone else I knew, and so many I never knew, have gone before you. I have given up wondering when I shall really see you again.’
I wanted to ask what he was talking about. But there was a jumble of thoughts glowing feebly away at the back of my mind. As I was still trying to choose the right words, Martin turned away from me and walked steadily across the deck to the stairs that led down to our living quarters.
I was alone on the deck – not a sailor in sight. Even Priscus, with his vomiting and his bag of drugs, would have been preferable to the deep silence that lay about me in all directions. There were no seabirds crying out, no fluttering of sails in any breeze. I heard not so much as the lapping of water against the keel of the ship. I gripped the rail and looked hard in the direction of where Athens surely lay.
The Sword of Damascus Page 41