He managed to twist his right foot and gain a toehold in the stirrup. Push up. He came straight in the saddle, seeking the left stirrup, just as he caught a glimpse of a blue shape alongside.
Anhalt raised his recovered saber and parried a thunderous blow before pulling Jambiya to a halt. Clark reined in and turned to meet him. They fenced again. The senator was in a rage. His moves were wilder, but fueled by enormous muscle. Anhalt's arm was still rubbery.
The general drove Jambiya hard against Clark's mount. Then he kicked back deep inside the gelding's flank. Jambiya snorted angrily and lashed out at the nearest victim—the hindquarters of Clark's stallion. The gelding sank his teeth deep into the white horse's flesh.
The startled stallion shrieked and reared. Clark yelled too, trying to keep his balance. Anhalt drew his boot up and slammed it into the senator's brass-buttoned chest. The American's face went through his typical range of emotions in an instant from disbelief to anger to fury and back to disbelief. And then the mighty Senator Clark tumbled from the saddle, crashing to the ground. Hat and saber sailed through the air, and the white stallion galloped away from his downed rider.
Anhalt wheeled Jambiya and pointed his sword down at the American. Clark glared up in pain and embarrassment. His breath tore from between his clenched teeth.
But then Clark started laughing. He pounded his hands against the ground and lay back, guffawing. Anhalt watched suspiciously, half expecting the man to pull a pocket pistol or leap up with a knife. Clark looked at the sirdar and fell into another paroxysm of breathless laughter. The senator climbed to his feet, dusted himself off, and retrieved his hat. He regarded the Gurkha with a posture Anhalt had never seen from the American, one of a comfortable friendliness.
Clark adjusted his hat. “You're a damned fine horseman, Sirdar. You picked that mount on purpose, didn't you?”
“I did.”
“He's damn nimble.”
“And a biter.” Anhalt swung from the saddle with a nod of respect to the American's skills. He took Jambiya's reins, and he and Clark started back. The senator threw an arm over the sirdar's shoulder, causing Anhalt to flinch. Clark laughed again, shaking the Gurkha. By the time they passed the celebrating Equatorians and disgruntled Americans on the sidelines, the sirdar was almost convinced the senator was not going to try to strangle him.
Senator Clark asked over the top of a glass of beer, “So you're telling me that Adele really is in Persia?”
Anhalt stared him straight in the eye. “As she says.”
“Well, damn it.” Clark stretched out his long legs, nearly tripping a passing waiter. The Polo Club's private dining room swarmed with servants and well-heeled guests, all of whom whispered and stared surreptitiously at the table shared by the sirdar and the empress's jilted fiancé.
The senator snatched a lobster tail and began to crush the meat out of it. “Who the hell's in charge around here? I haven't seen Lord Aden at all. Nobody seems to know where he is. That little snob used to scurry around like he ran the whole show.”
“We do have an entire government that is capable of functioning in Her Majesty's absence.”
“Really? I'd have thought she would've gutted anybody with any manhood.” Clark immediately rolled an apologetic hand at Anhalt. “Sorry. I didn't mean to speak ill of her, in front of you. I still have a few grudges of my own.”
The sirdar didn't excuse him, but understood. Adele had humiliated Clark, not only in casting him aside, for good reason, but quite literally running from the wedding on Greyfriar's arm. Such an event would have turned any man bitter, particularly a man used to having his own way in all things.
The senator signaled for two more beers. “Simon's death must've been hard on Adele. She worshipped that boy.”
“Yes. It was a terrible blow.”
“And it was that Gareth character who did it?”
“Yes. Greyfriar is in pursuit of the Scottish prince.”
Clark glowered at the mention of the swordsman, but then looked regretful. “Same vampire who had her when I found her in Edinburgh. Used her as a shield. If only I'd killed the thing then.”
Anhalt nodded and remained silent to drive home the fact that even the great Clark failed occasionally. Then he asked, “If you don't mind, Senator, may I ask why you are in Alexandria now? Surely you didn't fly the Atlantic just to express your condolences over Prince Simon.”
Clark guffawed and leaned forward. “True enough. All right, back to politics. My reason for the visit is to see Adele and try to get the American-Equatorian coalition back on track.”
“By coalition, do you mean alliance? Or marriage?”