warming their hands at a glowing brazier.
He wished he could spend a few minutes getting warm, but he dared not. He needed to get back to the docks. He prayed to Ganesh every hour that his ship would still be there, somewhere in the huge waterways around what they called the Pool of London.
It wasn’t really a pool, not to Sangay’s way of thinking. But he had to make it back, or he’d never see India, or his mother, again.
Sliding unobtrusively around the corner, hugging the deepening shadows along the wall, he crept soundlessly away from the stable, away from the hotel. He’d been safe enough there, warm enough there-he’d been fed enough there for the first time in his short life. But he didn’t dare stay.
The man would come for him, he knew. He had to go before he found him.
His slippered feet made no sound on the cobbles. As the distance from the hotel grew, he risked going a little faster. Memory of the man drove him on. He might have been just a cabin boy, but he’d been an honest boy, a good boy. He didn’t want to become a thief, but if the man caught him again…
He started running.
Reaching the end of the mews, he swung around the corner-and ran into a wall of muscle and bone.
He staggered back. Before he could regain his balance, a hand closed on his collar. He sucked in a breath, ready to protest his innocence, when from a long way above him a dark voice growled, “And just where do you think you’re going?”
Fear shot through him. He squeaked, tried to squirm loose, but the grip on his collar tightened. The man shook him like a rat.
Shook him until he was gasping, choking.
Then the man’s other hand caught his chin, forced his face up until he found himself staring into a dark-featured scowl. It wasn’t the frown that terrified Sangay-it was the man’s pale eyes.
“Let me remind you, boy, what will happen if you don’t do as I say.” The words were low, a rumble. “I’ll have your mother strung up and slow-roasted over a fire. She’ll scream and beg for mercy-mercy no one will grant her. Before she dies-and I assure you that won’t be soon-she’ll curse your name, curse the day she brought such an ungrateful whelp into this world.” The deep rumble paused.
The cold fist of fear tightened, choking Sangay.
“On the other hand,” the dark voice continued, “if you do as I say, your mother will never know anything about any fire, any excruciating pain, any horrible, terrible, godforsaken death.”
On the last word, the man shook him again. “So, whelp-your choice.” The man all but snarled, “Which will it be? Will you get back into that hotel and fetch the wooden scroll-holder I sent you for, or do I kill you now and send a message back to India on the first tide?”
“I’ll do it! I’ll do it, sahib!” Sangay could barely get the words out through his chattering teeth. When the man abruptly let him go, he staggered, then stood, and hung his head. “I will do as you say.”
No choice. He could barely breathe for sheer terror.
“So, have you looked? Done anything at all since Southampton?”
“Oh, yes, sahib, yes. I have been searching through all the general baggage, sahib, but there’s no scroll-holder there. It must be kept with the baggage the colonel-sahib keeps in his room, or perhaps with the bags his man Cobby keeps with him. Or the colonel-sahib might be carrying it with him, only I don’t think he is because I have looked closely and I cannot see how such a thing would fit beneath his coat.”
“I doubt he’ll carry it with him.”
“Perhaps”-Sangay brightened-“it is in the memsahib’s bags?”
The man eyed him, then nodded. “Perhaps. You search everywhere until you find it, understand? But try to do it without being caught. We’ve a few days yet. Better you look until you find it, then bring it to me, rather than you get caught before you get your hands on it-understand?”
Sangay bobbed his head repeatedly. “Yes, sahib. I’m to stay hidden until I find it-no one must know I am looking for this thing.”
“That’s right. You do that, and no one will touch your mother-remember that. Now, what do you know about the other two gentlemen who go out when the colonel does? They seem to be guarding him.”
“Yes, sahib-sir-they are friends of his.” Sangay screwed up his face. “I have not heard their names well enough to say them, but they are at the hotel, too, in other rooms on the same floor.”
“Are they, indeed?” The man fell silent.
Sangay shivered, unobtrusively shifting from one foot to the other. Carefully he tucked his hands under his arms and hugged himself, bowing his thin shoulders away from the wind.
“Keep an eye on those two, but you’d best keep out of their way. But how have you been hiding yourself?”
Sangay shrugged. “The colonel-sahib’s people think I’m one of the memsahib’s servants, and her people think I’m a one of the colonel-sahib’s servants.”
The man looked at him through narrowing eyes. “Very clever. You’re quick, I’ll give you that. Just don’t be forgetting your maataa won’t be able to escape the Black Cobra.”
Sangay shivered. “No, sahib. I won’t be forgetting that.”
“Good. Now get back in there and find the scroll-holder. Once you do, all you need do is come out and slip away-I’ll be watching. I’ll come and meet you.”
“Yes, sahib. I will be getting back now.” Receiving a nod of assent, Sangay turned and, head down against the biting wind, slipped back around the corner, then walked slowly, despondently, back along the alley.
He hadn’t thought it possible, but he felt even more miserable, even more filled with black despair. All he could do was do as the man told him, and pray to the gods that something would happen-to the man, perhaps?-to save him from the nightmare his life had become. And to save his maataa, too.
Five
“Found just the thing.” Cobby shut the door.
“A recital at St. Martin-in-the-Fields. It’s only a short hackney ride away.”
Del considered, nodded. “Perfect.” He closed his eyes, laid his head back again. “Get tickets.”
“Don’t have to. It’s free, apparently. You can just walk in.”
He should, Del realized, have registered what Cobby’s words meant. As he escorted an eager Deliah through the crowd thronging the old church’s wide porch, he berated himself for not having seen the danger.
Yes, they could simply walk in-and so could anyone else.
He glanced at Deliah, wondered-again-if he should suggest they leave. Once again, he held his tongue. The light in her face, in her jade eyes, stated louder than words that she was looking forward to the performance.
Reaching the main doors, she led the way in, going straight through the foyer and into the nave. She started down it, looking right and left, evaluating the available seats. Taller than she, Del could see over the crowd clogging the aisle. Taking her elbow, he steered her to two seats in a pew two-thirds of the way down the nave.
Excusing herself to the well-dressed lady in the corner of the pew, Deliah slid past and on, then, leaving space for Del, sat and arranged her skirts.
After taking note of the unquestionably innocent couples filling the pew behind theirs, Del sat, then surveyed those in the pew ahead.
All safe enough.
Despite the season, the majority of the crowd were tonnish, the rest mainly gentry or well-to-do merchants. But he’d spotted a few less savory sorts hanging about the fringes of the crowd, and the rear pews were jammed with shabby coats and unkempt figures.
