'I wasn't in any danger of dying, bascha.'
Her voice rose. '—as well as saving mine; and I was in danger of dying, Tiger! Not to mention he went for help in Julah and got himself abducted by Rafiq and his friends—'
'I don't think they actually abducted him—'
'—and risked being killed by Vashni—'
'I'm not sure the Vashni—'
'—and now may have been taken prisoner by Umir. How many times has he put himself out, or put himself in danger, to help us, yet you insist on denigrating those efforts and refuse to help him when he may need it?'
'I'm not denigrating those efforts, Del, and I'm not refusing to help him. I'm merely saying we should spend the night in Julah before we head off for Umir's. Where he may not even be.'
'See? There it is, Tiger! Denigration. Is it because he's younger than you—my age, in fact—and handsome? Because I spent two weeks alone with him, mostly undressed, while you were elsewhere? Because we slept in the same tent? Because I came to know him, to trust him? Are you afraid I might be taken with him?'
I stared at her, mouth open. 'You're saying I'm jealous!'
'Well? Are you?'
'No!'
'Are you sure, Tiger?'
'Yes!'
Clearly she was dubious. 'You exhibited behavior somewhat similar to this in Skandi, when we met Herakleio. Young, strong, handsome, well-set-up Herakleio.'
I glared. 'I wasn't jealous of Herakleio, and I'm not jealous of Nayyib.'
She glared back. 'You have remarked many times on the years between us. No doubt some might even whisper I'm young enough to be your daughter.'
I gritted teeth. 'I don't care what anybody else thinks. Or what they whisper, either.' Though I'd heard it mentioned aloud a time or two.
Pale brows arched.
'I don't,' I said crisply. 'As for staying in Julah, it's one night. One night at Fouad's. That's all, bascha. Then we go.'
'In one night a man could die.'
'Hoolies, a man can die in one moment, Del! Between one breath and the next. But I find it very unlikely Umir will kill him—or that anyone else would—because there's still a price on my head, and by now they probably all know Nayyib has a better idea than they do where I might go. Plus Umir wants his book back. He won't kill Nayyib if he thinks he can trade him for the book.'
Del held her bedroll in the crook of an elbow. 'What book?'
In my zeal to change the subject, I'd forgotten she knew nothing about Umir's book of magic. I sighed, turning back to continue tacking out the stud. 'I'll tell you on the trail.'
Fouad seemed to have resigned himself to the fact that Del and I were now equal partners in his cantina. He was not in the least surprised to see us, nor that we expected to have private quarters. In fact, he led us rather dolefully down the hallway giving access to the rooms rented—along with the wine-girls—to men with coin. I fully expected Del to make some icy comment about women accepting the necessity of selling their bodies, but she held her tongue. Fouad took us to the very back of the building, then waved us inside a curtained door.
Plaster dust still lay on the floor. Raw wood and nail holes were obvious against the weathered walls. 'I had a wall knocked down between two rooms,' Fouad said, 'and a wider bed put in.' He glowered. 'It's reduced the cantina by two rooms, you realize. And the income. Plus the cost of the changes will come out of your shares.'
Two tiny rooms made into one slightly larger one by the deletion of a thin lath-and-plaster wall didn't leave us with much added space, but it was something. And the bed was noticeably wider. There were also two rickety tables, one battered, brass-hinged trunk, and a small, square window cut into one exterior adobe wall. I wondered inanely if Del would want to put up curtains.
'You can rent it out when we're not here,' I told him, 'and charge more for it because it's the best room in the house. Which reminds me—we'll need to sit down and have a good talk about how the place is run, so Del and I have an idea what to expect as partners.' I caught her narrowed glance and added, 'When we get back.'
Perhaps he hadn't expected me to hit upon what was undoubtedly his plan. 'You know where the kitchen is,' Fouad said gloomily. 'If you want food and drink, just ask.'
I started undoing harness buckles. 'I'm asking.'
He sighed and nodded. 'I thought so. I'll send one of the girls back with a tray.'
Del stared after him as Fouad departed. I set harness, sword, and knife down on the trunk, then assigned myself the task of testing the feel of the mattress by sprawling across it, slack-limbed. I couldn't help the blooming of a lopsided smile. I was a Man of Property. I now owned one-third of a modestly successful cantina in a thriving town. But even better, I had a bed and a room to call my own for the very first time in forty years.
Well. Our own.
I smacked the bed lightly. 'Room for two.'
Del's gaze transferred itself from the curtained doorway to the bed. While I was pleased, she seemed stunned by events. Or maybe just too tired to take it all in.
'It doesn't bite,' I said. 'And I only do when invited.'
Slender fingers worked at harness buckles. But she stopped before slipping out of it. 'We should go after Nayyib.'
I held onto my patience with effort. 'Tomorrow, remember? First light. For now, we have the chance to rest under a real roof, in a real bed, and eat decent food for the first time in weeks.' Well, cantina food didn't always live up to 'decent,' but it would be better by far than dried cumfa and flat, tough-crusted journey-
bread. Especially when accompanied by something far more palatable than Vashni liquor.
Hmmm. Maybe the quality of food was something I should discuss with Fouad. After all, it was my reputation at stake now, too.
Del undid the buckles, set harness and weapons down atop mine, and sat on the edge of the bed. After a moment I wrapped a hand around the braid hanging down her back and tugged her down next to me. We lay cross'wise, feet planted on the packed-earth floor.
'Tomorrow,' I said again.
Del's eyes drifted closed. She fell asleep almost at once, thereby proving my point about needing a good night's rest. I smiled, smoothing fallen strands of hair back from her face.
Then a thought occured. 'I am not jealous,' I muttered.
But I wasn't so certain I liked the idea of Del spending two weeks in a tent, mostly undressed—mostly undressed!—with a young, handsome, well-set-up buck like Nayyib while I was elsewhere. A young, handsome, well-set-up buck who, more to the point, was Del's age.
Now I scowled at the ceiling. What did she see in a man old enough to be her father?
Oh, hoolies. I got up, carefully shifted Del lengthwise on the bed, which occasioned a murmured but incoherent comment, and took myself and Umir's book into the common room. Such meanderings of the mind called for goodly amounts of aqivi.
TWENTY-FOUR
FOUAD EVINCED extreme startlement when I'd set up my study space at a table in the back corner of the common room, on a diagonal line from the doorway. I replaced the wobbly bench with the most comfortable one available, stuffed my spine into the confluence of walls, set out the book so the light from a window fell evenly upon its pages, and proceeded to sit there for hours, a cup and jug of aqivi at one elbow. I'd eaten earlier, but there was always room for aqivi.
