Part 29 (1/2)
Thirteen.
THE WESTERING SUN glowed a hand's breadth above the horizon. Fingers of blue shadow gripped the commander's garden in Fort Zheman. Beside one of his predecessor's rose bushes, Captain Shamil turned to face Yakoub.
”There has to be more than you're telling me, my young friend,” Shamil growled.
Yakoub spread his hands in a gesture of dismay that was not altogether feigned. Was this fool about to seek wisdom at a most inconvenient time?
”Why should I lie to you? Even if I did, is not a fair woman in your bed worth much?”
”If she's as fair as you say. I remind you that I haven't yet seen the woman, even clothed.”
A whiplash of anger cracked in Yakoub's voice. ”Must I need to remind you of how long you've served us? Of how this would seem to Mughra Khan? Of how easy it would be for him to learn?”
The reply was not what Yakoub expected. It was a dour smile, spread hands and a shrug.
”I have forgotten none of these things. There is something you may have forgotten. My under-captain Khezal is not of our party. If I were removed, he would command Fort Zheman.”
”Who cares what a well-born lapdog like that may do or leave undone?”
”Khezal's less of the lapdog and more of the wolf than you think. The men know it, too. They'd follow him where he led, even if it was against us.”
If I could only be sure he was telling the truth!
Khezal seemed no more than a n.o.bleman's foppish son doing a term on the frontier before returning to a more comfortable post close to court.
Having such a man commanding Fort Zheman would be no small victory.
Under him the fort would surely fall to Master Eremius's servants.
Then the whole province would be ablaze with rebellion or fleeing in fear. The greater the menace, the larger the army sent to deal with it.
The larger the army, the more men under Lord Houma's command. The more men, the more power in Lord Houma's hands on the day he chose to act.
If Shamil told the truth, however, Khezal would lead Fort Zheman well enough, besides being no part of Lord Houma's faction. Yakoub pretended to contemplate a creamy yellow rose with a deep russet heart while he weighed risks. He remembered his father's words, ”Remember that decision in war is always a gamble. The difference between the wise captain and the foolish one is knowing how much you're gambling.”
Yakoub chose to be a wise captain. He could not gamble away power over Fort Zheman.
”I won't command or beg. I'll just offer my help in keeping Raihna's guardians away. Once she knows they're looking the other way, she'll be hot for your bed.”
”Now you begin to talk sense. What kind of help? If you're trying to make me think you can fight off a whole merchant family-”
”Am I a fool? Have I seemed to think you one?”
”Better if I didn't answer that, I think.”
Yakoub sighed. The fear of failure was giving way to weariness at dealing with such as Shamil. Caraya was so different, so clean in heart and mind and body. It was impossible not to love her.
It was impossible, also, not to wonder. When victory crowned Houma's banners, he could offer her more than she could have ever dreamed of.
Would she forgive what he had done, to reach the place where he could offer it?
Yakoub shook off the forebodings. ”Well, I don't think you a fool, and the G.o.ds grant I am none either. I can make free with my purse. That should keep the lady's guards looking the other way for a night and silent afterward. Can you have some of your men ready to hand, in case my gold does not do all that it should?”
”If you'll pay them.”