She eyed him warily. "What kind of bargain?"
"We must determine whether we have a chance of rescuing the prisoner. If it is possible—not guaranteed, but possible—I promise I will participate wholeheartedly in a rescue scheme."
Steel entered his voice and he caught her gaze with his. "In return, I want you to agree that if the prison is so well-guarded that there is no realistic hope of success, we will not make a suicidal attempt. Instead, we will leave Bokhara as we planned. When and if we reach Teheran, we will contact the British and Russian authorities. Diplomatic pressure might be more effective than heroics on our part."
Unless the man in the Black Well died in the meantime. But Ross was right; trust him to cut through the emotional tangle to the underlying truth. There was a difference between taking a risk with some hope of success and going to certain death.
They must decide which category a rescue attempt fell into. Still... "Who decides what is possible?"
"I was afraid you'd ask that," he said ruefully. "Since we are going to be working with sketchy information, we'll just have to talk it out, with me hoping that you'll be reasonable. Otherwise it's a stalemate—I doubt if you can successfully invade the prison without my help, while I won't leave Bokhara without you."
Juliet arched her brows. "You should know better than to expect me to be reasonable."
"I said hope, not expect." He gave her a fleeting smile. "Just remember that the longer we stay, the greater the chance of trouble. Tonight Abdul Samut Khan hinted rather broadly that Shahid Mahmud might decide to deal with us on his own if the army is away very long, and he's one man who will want to destroy you as well as me.
Juliet winced. She would take her chances with Shahid if she was armed, but she didn't want him to corner her in a corridor again. "Then there is no time to waste. We need to find a man who is familiar with the prison. Saleh's brother or Hussayn Kasem may know someone who can answer our questions. And it might be worth talking to Ephraim ben Abraham in more depth."
"If you visit him, take Saleh," Ross suggested. "He has an honest face and Ephraim might talk to him."
"Are you saying that I don't have an honest face?"
"As Jalal, you don't have any face at all." He began unbuttoning his shirt. "You realize that the odds of our reaching Persia alive have just gotten considerably worse? Until today, I thought the worst danger would be crossing the Kara Kum. If we go after the ferengi prisoner, we'll be lucky to get out of the city at all."
Juliet shrugged fatalistically. "Perhaps our Muslim friends are right and what will happen is already written. Or maybe they are wrong and it isn't written, but in either case there isn't much point in worrying."
She rose and moved in front of him so she could take over the work of unbuttoning. "Your faithful servant is the one who should remove your clothing, O master," she murmured as her fingers strayed to the warm flesh below the fabric.
He gave a slow smile and caught her hand for a moment, holding it against his heart. "You may not be an obedient servant very often, but I like the times when you pretend."
Juliet felt a rush of tenderness so profound that it defied speech, so she leaned forward and kissed his bare throat, feeling the pulse of life beneath her lips. There could not be another man anywhere who would understand and accept her as Ross did. Soon she would lose him, either to death or to England.
She made a promise to herself that before that happened, she would somehow find the courage to tell him how much she loved him.
* * *
Information about the prison came with unexpected ease. The next day Juliet visited Saleh and Murad early. The boy Reza was off playing with Saleh's nephews, so she was able to speak freely. Without mentioning the source, she described what Ross had been told and their hope that they might be able to rescue the prisoner in the Black Well.
When she was done, Saleh frowned. "It will be difficult, but it is to your advantage that the army is just leaving the city. With so many soldiers departing, there will be confusion in the palace and the prison, perhaps a shortage of guards. You might accomplish something that would be impossible at another time, but it's essential to learn more about the prison."
"I was hoping your brother might know a man who works there, or that he knows a man who will know another man."
Before Saleh could reply, Murad said, "You need seek no further, for I know exactly the right person."
When the other two stared at him, Murad grinned. "His name is Hafiz and his father keeps a silk shop in the next street. We met in a teahouse and have become friends. Hafiz works for his father in the day and in the prison at night, though he does not much like being there. He wants to earn enough money to open a teahouse of his own."