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subject that had
stirred up some anxiety, "that the Son of Heaven would exile the worshipers of
Mani."
"Even the rumor of trouble distresses me," Father
Basil replied, "for my own people in your land. How long will it be before you
blame the Nestorians as well as the tribes for the raids, and the violation of
your holy places? And yours, Master Ibrahim.
If Ch'in turns inward, distrusting the outsiders who have helped make it wise
and rich, against whom else might it turn?"
Alexandra turned and left the room. The women's quarters were cool and very
quiet, if you ignored the dismay and murmurings of their inmates at her
parched skin, her thinness, and her scandalous clothing. It was pleasant to'be
bathed and oiled (she forced herself to ignore the reek of blood in the
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bathwater, since none of the other women seemed troubled) and eased down into
a soft nest of rugs, cushions, and a fine cotton sheet, as if she were an
infant. The women left, leaving behind a pitcher of water and a finely pierced
brass lamp that cast fascinating shadows on the walls. Alexandra stared at
them, hoping to follow them into deep, dreamless sleep.
But again she smelled smoke, and death, and that unholiness that lurked
beneath the ground here. It was the karez, she knew that now. The nomads had
withdrawn, but Turpan's real enemy had laired within its very heart. After a
time she rose and dressed in the clean clothing the women had left for her.
Comfort here was an illusion; she preferred to rest fully clad against the
moment when the illusion was shattered.
For good measure, she picked up her sword, then laid the pack containing the
bell and lightning-bolt emblem she had won where she could reach it. Only then
did she lie down again.
Lazily she traced the pattern of light dancing over the roughly textured
walls. After a time, the lamp went out and she slept.
Hasty footsteps and blazing lights invaded
Alexandra's room, and she woke with a cry. In an instant, she had drawn not
her sword, but the twisting dorje that symbolized the lightning.
Prince Li Shou took one step back. Father
Basil was with him.
"Turpan is under attack?" she asked quickly. So this was why the plums, the
grapes, and the water had tasted of blood!-Outside, she heard wailing and
running feet, and, over all, the sound of alarm, voices shouting orders, and
the clash of weapons being lifted from stores and distributed.
None of it surprised her. What did surprise her was the presence of men and
outsiders in the women's quarters. Then she heard other men's deep voices too,
and she realized that the women were being evacuated to some place of safety
... if indeed such a place existed.
"The dorje," breathed the prince. Alexandra spared it a glance as she thrust
it into her belt. It glowed blue-white.
Ibrahim awaited them in the reception room they had entered only hours before,
armed guards at his back.
"The tribes?" asked Bryennius, who had his sword drawn, and looked eager for a
fight.
Susan Sstituarfz
The merchant looked distracted. "Down from the hills, under the houses . . .
there is a guard on the tunnels: How could they have entered?"
There was no time to tell him, Alexandra thought in pity. He would only think
that his troubles had been increased by the presence of a madwoman.
"The rest of your caravan has been guided to the ruins of the Han town outside
Turpan. You'll see it. Take these letters"-he thrust dispatches into
Bryennius' hands com8for my cousins in
Dunhuang. Tell them to guard the Jade Gate well, and to pray for us!"
"I can't leave you like this, man!" Bryennius cried. "Suleiman Mi'sar ibn
Mulhalhil called me brother. Would he abandon you?"
Haraldr stalked in through the main door, causing half the men in the room to
reach for their weapons. "My prince," he saluted
Bryennius, "I sent the others on ahead, then came back here. Do we stay with
the rear guard?"
"Yes!" Bryennius cried, even as Ibrahim shook his head.
"Your first loyalty, Prince ... it must be to your kinswoman, and to His
Highness, with whose safety my kinsmen in Kashgar entrusted you. Though I
would welcome your sword, this is not their battle."
Ibrahim doesn't expect to win, Alexandra thought. Voices screamed in the
narrow streets, and outside, flames danced up, casting crazy shadows on the
minaret which seemed to sway back and forth with them.
Bryennius' swarthy face flushed with shame. How easy it would be to agree that
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they should stay here. For a moment Alexandra wavered. Li Shou fingered his
swordhilt, his mind doubtless full of heroic songs as well as honest fear. It
was brave, it was noble-and it was probably useless, suicidal.
Another man burst into the room. His sword dripped blood on the fine carpets.
"That was the last of the women! Now barbarians are pouring in from the ruined
caravanserais."
143
"Go now, while you can!" Ibrahim ordered.
"Prince, Princess, let me stay," Haraldr begged. Alexandra might have expected
that. If they didn't stop arguing, they'd have no choice but to stay and
fight.
"You are sworn to me, Haraldr," Alexandra snapped in Greek. "And I do not
release you."
His blue eyes were on her, troubled and even hurt, and his hands clasped and
unclasped on his axe.
Alexandra drew her sword. "My Lord
Ibrahim, I thank you for your hospitality.
If. . ." She drew a breath . . . "If your
Allah wills it, I shall come back to enjoy it in
peace. Now: which way must we flee?"
"I will lead you," he said, and they ran from the house.
Crowds swirled about them. Riders pounded by.
Alexandra flung herself out of their path. She heard a scream, and something
meaty fall before she could even draw her own sword. Then they were engulfed
in a snarl of quick, dirty fights. By the time they could breathe again, and
bind up their wounds, Ibrahim lay dead. Sprawled beside him, half in, half out
of the canal, lay the Greek soldier whom Alexandra had watched eating a plum.
Blood ran from his mouth and spiraled into the rushing water.
She dashed her hand across her grimy face. "Now what?" she asked. Father
Basil, one of
Ibrahim's men, and Prince Li Shou were deep in rapid conversation.
"Ibrahim-Christ rest his soul-said that there was an entrance to the karez
near his house," said the priest. "And this man claims to know the underground
ways. He could bring us out to where the caravan awaits us."
waits for us, Alexandra thought. The idea of entering the karez was abhorrent
to her. What if they confronted whatever undead thing she had envisioned
lurking in its windings?
She imagined that it looked like the goat she had slain, only larger and
fouler. But they had no better choice.
Li Shou stared at her. "You think that there's something in the karez?"
She nodded. Then they heard the shrieks of their enemy and ran for the karez.
"Everyone flee," gasped their torches you can carry.
Quick!"
guide. "Take what
The tunnels were so low that even Alexandra had to bend down as they crawled
into the twisting darkness.
This had to be torment for Haraldr, she thought after she heard a thump, a
scrape, and an oath in
Norse. "Like the very bowels of the Midgard serpent!"
Haraldr muttered.
"Do you want to bring the earth down upon us?" hissed their guide. He held up
a torch. If the walls of the karez were reinforced, Alexandra couldn't see it.
The weight of earth pressing down upon them .
. . she sniffed blood again, and knew it for the lives of the men who had
built this waterway, and who maintained it. She wondered if they were not
afraid to enter the tunnels, and how it felt to be trapped down here, waiting
for the torches to burn out or the air to go bad.
Their feet splashed in the shallow water. Around them, the torches flickered [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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