ripped, the carpet bed torn apart, the remains of the guard crumpled against a wall. In the alcove at the far end of the huge room, half-covered from the main bedroom, the table was upended, a serving maid moaning, and two inert bodies half buried under tablecloth and smashed dishes. Erikki’s heart stopped as he recognized Azadeh. In panic he rushed over and shoved the debris off her - in passing noticed the other person was Hakim - lifted her into his arms, her hair flowing, and carried her into the light. His breathing did not start again until he was sure she was still alive - unconscious, only God knew how damaged, but alive. She wore a long blue cashmere peignoir that hid all of her, but promised everything. The tribesmen pouring into the room were swept by her beauty. Erikki took off his flight jacket and wrapped it around her, oblivious to them, “Azadeh… Azadeh …” “Who this, pilot?” Through his fog Erikki saw Bayazid was beside the wreckage. “That’s Hakim, my wife’s brother. Is he dead?”
“No.” Bayazid looked around furiously. Nowhere else for the Khan to hide. His men were crowding through the doorway and he cursed them, ordering them to take up defensive positions at either end of the corridor and for others to go outside onto the wide patio and to guard that too. Then he scrambled over to Erikki and Azadeh and looked at her bloodless face and breasts and legs pressing against the cashmere. “Your wife?” “Yes.”
“She’s not dead, good.”
“Yes, but only God knows if she’s hurt. I’ve got to get a doctor…” “Later, first we ha - ” “Now! She may die!”
“As God wants, pilot,” Bayazid said, then shouted angrily, “You said you knew everything, where the Khan would be, in the Name of God where is he?” “I don’t know. These… these were his private quarters, Agha, private, I’ve never seen anyone else here, heard of anyone else here, even his wife could only come here by invitation an - ” A burst of firing outside stopped Erikki. “He’s got to be here if Azadeh and Hakim are here!” “Where? Where can he hide?”
In turmoil Erikki looked around, settled Azadeh as best he could, then rushed for the windows - they were barred, the Khan could not have escaped this way. From here, a defensible corner abutment of the palace, he could not see the forecourt or the chopper, only the best view of the gardens and orchards southward, past the walls to the city a mile or so distant below. No other guards threatening them yet. As he turned, his peripheral vision caught a movement from the alcove, he saw the automatic, shoved Bayazid out of the way of the bullet that would have killed him, and lunged for Hakim who lay in the debris. Before other tribesmen could react he had the young man pinioned, the automatic out of his hand, and was shouting at him, trying to get him to understand, “You’re safe, Hakim, it’s me, Erikki, we’re friends, we came to rescue you and Azadeh from the Khan… we came to rescue you!”
“Rescue me… rescue me from what?” Hakim was staring at him blankly, still numb, still dazed, blood seeping from a small wound in his head. “Rescue?” “From the Khan an - ” Erikki saw terror come into the eyes, whirled and caught the butt of Bayazid’s assault rifle just in time. “Wait, Agha, wait, it’s not his fault, he’s dazed… wait, he was … he was aiming at me not you, wait, he’ll help us. Wait!”
“Where’s Abdollah Khan?” Bayazid shouted, his men beside him now, guns cocked and ready to kill. “Hurry and tell me or you’re both dead men!” And when Hakim didn’t answer at once, Erikki snarled, “For God’s sake, Hakim, tell him where he is or we’re all dead.”
“Abdollah Khan’s dead, he’s dead… he died last night, no … the night before last. He died the night before last, near midnight …” Hakim said weakly and they stared at him with disbelief, his mind coming back slowly and he still could not understand why he was lying here, head pounding, legs numb, Erikki holding him when Erikki was kidnapped by tribesmen, when he was having breakfast with Azadeh, then guns exploding and diving for cover, guards firing, and then the explosion and half the ransom’s already been paid.
Abruptly his mind cleared. “In God’s name,” he gasped. He tried to get up and failed. “Erikki, in God’s name why did you fight in here, half your ransom’s been paid… why?”
Erikki got up angrily. “There’s been no ransom, the messenger’s throat was cut, Abdollah Khan had the man’s throat cut!”
“But the ransom - half was paid, Ahmed did it last night!” “Paid, paid to whom?” Bayazid snarled. “What lies are these?” “Not lies, half was paid last night, half paid by the new Khan as… as an act of faith for the… the mistake about the messenger. Before God, I swear it. Half’s paid!”
“Lies,” Bayazid scoffed, and aimed the gun at him. “Where’s the Khan?” “Not lies! Should I lie before God? I tell you before God! Before God! Send for Ahmed, send for the man Ahmed, he paid them.”
One of the tribesmen shouted something, Hakim blanched and repeated in Turkish: “In the Name of God, half the ransom’s already paid! Abdollah Khan’s dead! He’s dead and half the ransom was paid.” A murmur of astonishment went through the room. “Send for Ahmed, he’ll tell you the truth - why are you fighting here, there’s no reason to fight!” Erikki rushed in: “If Abdollah Khan’s dead and half’s been paid, Agha, other half promised, your honor’s vindicated. Agha, please do as Hakim asks, send for Ahmed - he’ll tell you who he paid and how.”
Fear in the room was very high now, Bayazid and his men hating the closeness here, wanting to be in the open, in the mountains, away from these evil people and place, feeling betrayed. But if Abdollah’s dead and half’s paid… “Pilot, go and get his man Ahmed,” Bayazid said, “and remember, if you cheat me, you will find your wife noseless.” He ripped the automatic out of Erikki’s hand. “Go and get him!”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
“Erikki… first help me up,” Hakim said, his voice throaty and weak. Erikki was helplessly trying to make sense of all this as he lifted him easily and pushed through the men crowding near, and settled him on the sofa cushions beside Azadeh. Both saw her pallid face, but both also noticed her regular breathing. “God be thanked,” Hakim muttered.
Then once more Erikki was half in nightmare, walking out of the room unarmed to the head of the stairs, shouting for Ahmed not to shoot, “Ahmed, Ahmed, I’ve got to talk to you, I’m alone…”
Now he was downstairs and still alone, still no firing. Again he shouted for Ahmed but his words just echoed off the walls and he wandered into rooms, no one around, everyone vanished and then a gun was in his face, another in his back. Ahmed and a guard, both nervous.
“Ahmed, quick,” he burst out, “is it true that Abdollah’s dead and there’s a new Khan and that half the ransom’s paid?”
Ahmed just gaped at him.
“For Christ’s sake is it true?” he snarled.
“Yes, yes, that’s true. But th - ”
“Quick, you’ve got to tell them!” Relief flooding over him, for he had only half believed Hakim. “Quick, they’ll kill him and kill Azadeh - come on!” “Then the… they’re not dead?”
“No, of course not, come on!”
“Wait! What exactly did th… did His Highness say?”
“What the hell difference do - ”
The gun jammed into Erikki’s face. “What did he say exactly?” Erikki searched his memory and told him as best he could, then added, “Now for the love of God, come on!”
For Ahmed time stopped. If he went with the Infidel he would probably die, Hakim Khan would die, his sister would die and the Infidel who was responsible for all this trouble would probably escape with his devil tribesmen. But then, he thought, if I could persuade them to let the Khan live and his sister live, persuade them to leave the palace, I will have proved myself beyond all doubt, both to the Khan and to her, and I can kill the pilot later. Or I can kill him now and escape easily and live - but only as a fugitive despised by all as one who betrayed his Khan. Insha’Allah! His face creased into a smile. “As God wants!” He took out his knife and gave it and his gun to the white-faced guard and walked around Erikki. “Wait,” Erikki said. “Tell the guard to send for a doctor. Urgently. Hakim and my wife… they may be hurt.”
Ahmed told the man to do it and went along the corridor and into the hall and up the staircase. On the landing, tribesmen searched him roughly for arms then escorted him into the Khan’s room, crowding after him, shoving him into the vast, empty space - Erikki they held at the door, a knife at his throat - and when Ahmed saw his Khan was truly alive, sitting bleakly on the cushions near Azadeh who was still unconscious, he muttered, “Praised be to God,” and smiled at him. “Highness,” he said calmly, “I’ve sent for a doctor.” Then he picked out Bayazid.
“I am Ahmed Dursak the Turkoman,” he said proudly, speaking Turkish with great formality. “In the Name of God: it’s true that Abdollah Khan is dead, true that I paid half the ransom - 5 million rials - last night on the new Khan’s behalf to two messengers of the chief al-Drah of the village of Broken Tree, as an act of faith because of the
