Juliet didn't wait to hear more. She spurred her horse over to her brother, calling softly, "Ian, it's Juliet."
Though he had been slumped forward over his saddle horn, he lifted his head on hearing her words. The lamp cruelly lit his haggard face and ruined eye, but after a moment of shock, recognition lightened his expression. "My God, Juliet. I should have known that my incorrigible little sister was involved." Amazingly, a faint, familiar trace of humor could be heard in his rusty voice. "The mustache doesn't do a damned thing for you."
Laughing and crying, she hugged her brother, almost pulling him from his horse in the process. It seemed impossible that it was really Ian after so many tears and dashed hopes.
He hugged her back, but they were not allowed long for a reunion . Ross said quietly, "We must go now. Juliet, get the chapan for Ian."
Returned to awareness of their situation, she released her brother and pulled a dark coat from her saddlebag, then helped him put it on. After it had been loosely belted in place, Ross produced a length of white muslin and wound a hasty turban around Ian's head, then examined the results.
Dryly Ian said, "I imagine that I still look dreadful."
"True," Ross agreed, "but much less conspicuous than a shirtless man with hair and beard like a desert hermit. This will do until we get across the city."
Ross went over to Murad and was about to speak when the young Persian suddenly waved in a frantic signal to keep quiet. After dismounting from his horse, Ross went quietly to the archway to see what the problem was.
Galloping toward them were half a dozen soldiers, and the leader's lantern showed the grim face of Yawer Shahid Mahmud.
For a moment Ross stood stock-still, for it seemed as if the riders were coming straight toward them. He was reaching into his chapan for his pistol when the group swept by in a thunder of hooves, heading toward the prison.
Damnation, how had Shahid traced them so quickly? Ross swung into his saddle and motioned the others into the street. Turning away from the prison, they set off through the dark streets; the sooner they left the city, the better.
* * *
The lieutenant at the prison had already been bullied enough for one night and was not enthusiastic about lending men to Shahid Mahmud. However, he was outranked and out shouted, so grudgingly he allowed the yawer to take three soldiers.
Mission accomplished, Shahid turned to leave. As he did, he said more to himself than the other officer, "That ferengi will never get out of Bokhara alive."
The lieutenant said, "Saadi Khan has probably already executed the ferengi. He seemed anxious to do so."
Shahid swung back, suddenly alert. "What do you mean?"
Several confused minutes passed before it was established that two different ferengis were under discussion. On hearing that a royal chamberlain had taken the foreigner from the Black Well, Shahid said suspiciously, "This chamberlain—describe him."
The lieutenant shrugged. "Saadi Khan was taller than you, but apart from his height, there was nothing special about him. Dark beard and eyes, perhaps thirty years old."
He thought a moment. "Foreign-born, I think. He spoke Uzbek with a slight accent. Might have been Persian or Afghan."
"He spoke Uzbek?" Shahid frowned, thinking that the removal of the prisoner tonight must have been coincidence.
A horrible thought struck him; what if Khilburn did know Uzbek? He could have been listening to everything said around him and laughing at his captors the whole time. Beards could be faked, certainly well enough to deceive an imbecile like this lieutenant. And Shahid did not know of any royal chamberlains named Saadi Khan. "Did the fellow have a youth with him, perhaps wearing a dark veil across his face?"
"There was a young man with him, but he wasn't veiled."
Shahid began swearing under his breath, producing a steady monotone of curses. Even without proof, he was sure that Khilburn and his damned Targui had come here and removed the ferengi spy from the very shadow of the royal palace.
Spinning on his heel, he barked at his new recruits, "Come. We must go to the city gates. I'll get those bastards if it's the last thing I ever do."
Chapter 24
Ross was not sure who owned the empty house, but they owed the use of it to Hussayn Kasem. Dragging Muhammad out of the flooded wadi was one of the best day's work Ross had ever done.
Even when the news about Ian forced him and Juliet to alter their plans, Hussayn had responded with grace and efficiency, offering them extra mounts and the use of this house so that they could clean up the prisoner if they were successful in their rescue mission.
When they reached the safe house, the horses barely paused long enough to allow Ross and Ian to dismount before Juliet and Murad rode off to a nearby stable owned by the Kasem family. As part of the revised plan, they would now trade the horses for a camel and two donkeys, which they would ride when they joined the caravan and rode through the city gate.