Silk and Secrets(110)

"It would be dishonor to accept money from the man who saved my father's life," Hussayn said as he waved away the money. He stroked his dark beard absently as he thought. "It should not be difficult to pass through a city gate if you leave with a caravan, for in such a crowd the guards are more concerned with checking goods than people. If you make your escape from the nayeb's house on a night when we have a shipment leaving, you can join our group until you are safely outside. It would be best if you choose a caravan leaving by an eastern gate, for that will bring you out near our country estate, where we will have horses and supplies waiting."

Juliet had hoped that he would suggest exactly that. Bowing her head, she said, "Excellent. Do you know when, in the next few weeks, you will be shipping goods from the city?"

After conferring, the Kasems offered several possible dates. Then the discussion moved to other aspects of the escape plan. When the three of them had covered everything that Juliet could think of, she rose to take her leave.

His eyes shrewd, Hussayn remarked, "Your Persian is far more fluent than you showed on the journey across the Kara Kum, Jalal. Are you in truth a Targui?"

She hesitated a moment to choose an explanation that would contain the essence of truth. "No, my lord, this is but a disguise. I am also a ferengi. For many years, I have been... sworn to Khilburn's service. I could not allow him to undertake such a dangerous mission without me."

"I see," Hussayn murmured. "Khilburn is fortunate in his servant. But then, he is a man who inspires loyalty. May God protect you both on your journey home."

As she bowed and left, Juliet fervently seconded the Bokharan's wishes.

* * *

Waiting was hard. Ross chafed at his inactivity and the fact that he could do nothing except behave in a manner that would not excite suspicion.

Juliet was much busier, for no attempt was made to keep her in the compound. After securing the help of the Kasems, she took advantage of her voluminous robes to bring in items they would need and smuggle out what they wanted to take on their journey.

Apart from gold, weapons, and the bozkashi cap Dil Assa had given him, Ross wanted to save only his journals, which recorded his observations on Turkestan and its inhabitants. They were, however, discreetly silent on the much more interesting subject of his personal life.

Two things made Ross's confinement bearable. The most important was the nights with Juliet, which were passionate and fulfilling beyond anything he had dreamed possible, and were equally rich in the subtler, more enduring rewards of companionship.

Though death was an ever-present threat, Ross had never been happier in his life. He supposed that death itself was what made each moment with his wife infinitely precious; it was as if a lifetime of possible happiness was being compressed into a handful of enchanted hours.

But their oasis of joy was surrounded by invisible barriers more impassable than the mud-brick walls of the nayeb's compound. The subjects which must not be mentioned included much of the past, all of the future—and neither of them ever spoke of love.

Ross's other diversion was the friends who continued to visit him at the nayeb's house. He was grateful, for in a city saturated with spies, it took some courage to call on a man under the amir's displeasure.

Two or three guards were always in the reception room where Ross received guests, which tended to inhibit discourse. All conversations had to be carried on in Persian so the guards could understand what was being said.

Ross found that his ability to understand Uzbeki made for interesting eavesdropping. The guards had put together some sort of betting pool on the subject of whether Lord Khilburn would be executed outright or put in the Black Well, and if the latter, how long he would survive.

No one offered to bet on the proposition that the ferengi might leave Bokhara in good health.

Three days had passed since Juliet's meeting with the Kasems. As usual, she was out. Ross had spent the afternoon playing chess with an Armenian merchant whose stately demeanor masked a killer instinct for "the game of kings."

The Armenian's first visit had been a courtesy call on a fellow Christian. Since he and Ross had enjoyed each other's company, the merchant had come often since. Ross was just saying good-bye to him when three more friends arrived.

The newcomers were prominent in the local Jewish community and included Ephraim ben Abraham, whom Ross had met on his earlier visit to Bokhara. At that time Ephraim had asked Ross to take a letter to England and give it to Moses Montefiore, a financier and philanthropist whose fame reached even to Turkestan.

Montefiore had sent a reply to the Bokharans, and eight years later the parties were still in occasional communication with each other.