From the porthole in the stern, Emily had an excellent view of both headlands as the xebec slipped through, finally free of the harbor’s mouth.
She had an excellent view of the cultists on each point.
A perfectly clear view of the spyglass one was holding, trained on the xebec’s deck.
She saw that cultist turn and say something to another. Saw the second cultist grab the spyglass and look through, then nod excitedly. After one more look, both turned and ran…she couldn’t see where.
But she’d swear they’d been smiling.
Once the headlands faded into the early-morning sea mist, she quit the cabin and made her way onto the deck.
She found Gareth leaning on the railing to one side. She leaned beside him. “Did you see them on the headland?”
He nodded, glanced at her, met her eyes. “It wasn’t possible for us all to get below. With the added weight, some of us needed to help the sailors.”
She looked out across the waves, toward where, a long way ahead, she imagined Europe lay. “I can’t be sure, but I think they saw us.”
After a moment, he lifted a hand, placed it over hers on the rail. Gently squeezed. “They did-I think we must assume that. But they didn’t see which direction we took. The captain stayed on an uninformative course until we were out of sight.”
Emily stayed where she was, digesting that information and its implications. Absorbing the warmth of his large hand covering hers. “So they’ll know we left, and that we’re on some xebec, but, with any luck, they’ll search for us-”
“In every direction but the one in which we’re going.”
She nodded, reassured, but stayed where she was, content enough in that moment.
In the house opposite the British consulate, Uncle paced incessantly. “This is unacceptable! We are hunting these people-how is it then that three more of your number have disappeared?” His tone demanded an answer, an answer the cowed men abased before him could not give. “Have they deserted our cause? No! How could that be when they know the vengeance the Black Cobra will take? How our revered leader will strike, and maim, and torture until they scream-”
He broke off as his new lieutenant, Akbar, came striding in.
Akbar made obeisance, then straightened and reported, “They were seen-the major and his party-on a fast vessel leaving the harbor an hour ago.”
Uncle was silent. Silent for so long those abased before him started trembling even more than when he’d been berating them. The silence stretched as Uncle hauled his formidable temper back under control. Finally he drew breath, and, fighting not to grind his teeth, quietly asked, “And where is this vessel sailing to?”
Akbar’s lashes flickered. “The men do not know. It wasn’t possible to tell which heading they took before the sea mist swallowed them.”
Uncle drew in an even longer, tighter breath. Slowly exhaling, he said, “I suggest you set inquiries in train. There are only so many ships that can have left this morning. Ask until you learn where that one was heading.”
Akbar bowed low, then turned and left.
Uncle looked down at the trembling men at his feet. “Get out.”
They tripped over themselves obeying.
Alone in the room, Uncle slowly wandered. Akbar was ambitious. He would do whatever was needed to extract the necessary information. “Not that it matters,” Uncle muttered. “We have men in every port-the Black Cobra has seen to that. The major and his woman will not escape.” His hands clenched, his lips slowly curved. “And I will personally ensure that the major suffers long and suitably for taking Muhlal from me.”
Nine
