Silk and Secrets(122)

A quarter-hour of swift walking brought them to the arches of a small covered bazaar that was now deserted for the night. Murad waited there with four horses. He jumped when Juliet materialized out of the shadows near him, then scanned the newcomers with approval. "Very good, Lord Khilburn. You look exactly like a Bokharan court official."

"Let's hope the prison guards think so." Ross rested a hand on the young Persian's shoulder. "Are you ready to enter the lion's den? It might be very dangerous."

Murad managed a quick smile, though tension was obvious in his voice. "More dangerous for you than for me."

"But I do it for love of my brother. It takes greater courage to risk one's life for a stranger." Ross squeezed the younger man's shoulder, then said in a different tone, "Now it is time for the king's chamberlain to ride."

It took only a few moments to make the final preparations. While Murad uncovered one lamp and lit a second, Ross removed the dark scarf he had worn over his white turban on their surreptitious journey through the city and Juliet took off her tagelmoust. Underneath she also wore a white turban.

After packing the extra garments and the rope in saddlebags, they all mounted and rode the final half mile to the prison, which was a massive high-walled structure behind the royal palace. For the moment they were done with stealth; only bluster could make their present mad mission a success.

The entrance to the prison was barred by a heavy gate with a smaller door set in the middle. When their party reached it, Ross pulled out his pistol and, without dismounting, banged the hilt on the small door.

A voice sounded from the guardhouse above his head. "Who goes there?"

Ross took a deep breath. The point of no return had been reached. Speaking in Uzbek, he said, "Saadi Khan, bearing orders from the amir."

"Saadi Khan?" the guard said doubtfully.

"I am a makhram, a royal chamberlain, fool. Let me in!"

Responding to the note of command, the guard signaled one of his fellows to open the door. It was just large enough to admit a man on horseback. Ross trotted through into the courtyard, followed by Murad and Juliet, who led the fourth horse.

As soon as they were inside, Ross ordered, "Take me to the officer in charge."

"Yes, sir," said the highest-ranking of the soldiers, the equivalent of a corporal. He escorted the newcomers to the front steps of the main building.

There Ross and Murad dismounted, leaving Juliet with their horses. Her turban and mustache were adequate to allow her to pass as a young man in the dark courtyard.

With an arrogance modeled on Shahid Mahmud's, Ross swaggered up the steps, Murad right behind him. The corporal turned them over to a different guard, who escorted the visitors to the chamber occupied by the officer in charge of the night watch.

The lieutenant on duty looked up with a supercilious expression. If Murad's friend Hafiz was right, the man was new to this posting and unlikely to recognize that Ross was not a genuine palace official. He was also the sort who bullied his underlings and fawned on his superiors, which made him an ideal candidate for intimidation.

The lieutenant stroked his beard, eyeing Ross with disfavor. "Since the amir is out of the city, what royal business could you possibly have that cannot wait until morning?"

"This business." Ross pulled a document from inside his coat, then tried to look nonchalant as the officer examined it.

The order was a forgery, written in official style and marked with a royal seal that had been carefully removed from a legitimate document. The forgery came from Ephraim ben Abraham. Ross and Juliet had speculated how and why such skills had been learned, but knew better than to ask.

Ross stopped breathing when the lieutenant frowned over the order. "I do not understand."

Relieved that the problem was content, not form, Ross said with studied exasperation, "You aren't supposed to understand. Your job is to produce the ferengi prisoner, not waste my time with foolish questions."

"But why now, when his majesty is away?"

"It is precisely because he is away, imbecile! A foreign spy is a diplomatic embarrassment, dangerous to keep and dangerous to kill. Problems of this sort are best solved when the amir is known to be occupied with more important matters. Now, are you going to obey your orders, or are you going to become part of the problem?"

"My superior has not given me authority to release a prisoner," the lieutenant said doggedly, but his confidence was starting to wane in the face of his visitor's imperious manner.

"The document in your hand is all the authority you need." Not for nothing was Ross the son of a duke. When he chose to, he could bluster with the best. He shifted his weight forward to the balls of his feet, emphasizing his superior height. His voice dropped, becoming deep and threatening. "I've had quite enough of your foolishness. Saadi Khan is not accustomed to being kept waiting. Take me to the prisoner now."