Moments later, paid and happy, the tax man smiled and beckoned them onward with his right hand, through the Bab Debbagh gate, where Wake was immediately nauseated by the rancid stench of the tanneries all around them.
Holding their bridles, the column moved through the city on foot, squeezing into the increasingly narrow streets. A swirl of sound and motion enveloped them, overwhelming after the quiet of the desert. Wake was startled by the sudden whacks of the tanners as they slapped their hides, the cries of “barak, barak” by camel men as they warned others to get out of the way, the brain-spearing high-pitched wail of school students in a madrasa as they sang the praises of Allah, and the constant odor of excrement.
Sohkoor stopped, gazed at the sky, then called for them to gather around him. “We go to the souk by the Jewish Mella, just north of the Kasbah fortress. I must meet a man there. Then we will go to the quSoor Bou-Ahmed, the palace of Sidi Ahmed ben Musa, the vizier of Marrakech. He is the final stone to be overturned, for he knows, or can find out, anything that is happening regarding the ShayTaan bandits and the hostages.”
Woodgerd harrumphed. “I’ve heard of that slimy son. He’s in the know because he’s getting bakshish from everyone in the Medina of Marrakech, Sohkoor. And whatever you ask him he’ll pass along to the other side. Including the fact that we’re here.”
“They already know we’re here, Colonel. The ShayTaan gang has spies in Marrakech. They are watching us from the rooftops right now. They will gain nothing from our conversation with the vizier, but we can gain something from the vizier about them. He is a practical man and will not go against me. But first, the souk by the Mella. It is always better to get as much intelligence as possible before the action, is it not?”
Rork and Faber both looked up at the roof lines and fingered their hidden pistols. Wake thought he saw a head dart behind a wall above them. Or maybe it was his imagination. I’m getting too jumpy here, he told himself. Calm down. You must keep calm.
Their route to the Mella was through half a mile of winding alleyways, Sohkoor turning here and there into tiny alleys with no markings, until Wake lost all sense of direction. Finally, with the shadows darkening their way, they arrived at the Mella, which Wake recognized by the balconies set into the walls. They turned left into the copper souk, where chattering men were clanging away on metal plates, forming them into bowls and platters, while others were chiseling designs on copper. The scholar led them down an alley six feet wide, turning left into one even narrower but just as full of people. The sky was closed out. Wake felt claustrophobic, the dusty stench-laden air making breathing difficult. He steadied himself and kept walking even as the horses balked and had to be forced forward.
Then they burst into a relatively open space perhaps fifteen feet in width. Wake saw the sky and took several deep breaths in relief. Sohkoor stopped at one of the small doorways set into the wall, holding up his hand and giving his reins to one of the Arab soldiers as he addressed the group.
Sohkoor bid them to stay put for a moment while he went forward to find his informant. He warned them not to stray—they would get hopelessly lost in seconds among the maze of passageways. Then he was gone, disappeared into the swarming mass of men and animals constantly moving through the tiny arteries of Marrakech. Wake had no idea which way he went.
Wake asked Woodgerd what he knew of Sohkoor’s influence in the city. The colonel shook his head as he eyed the crowd.
“Don’t know, Wake. I’ve never been here. But I do know that Sohkoor has influence everywhere in Morocco, especially in the imperial cities. I wouldn’t underestimate him. At all.”
Faber asked, “What do we do now, Colonel?”
“Nothing. We wait until Sohkoor tells us what to do.”
The sky was graying above them when the shadows took over their waiting place. Lanterns came on in the sellers’ stalls, the business of the copper souk continuing in the dimly lit gloom, the sounds of flutes and stringed instruments periodically overcoming the hammering of the craftsmen.
Wake and Rork stood together, backs plastered against a wall, watching the comings and goings. From the top of the minarets, muezzins started to call the faithful for evening prayer. Their wail rose above all other sounds of Marrakech. Soon silence came over the city.
***
“Come, we go now!” said Sohkoor as he appeared out of the darkness two hours later. “Yalla!” he said to the Arab guardsmen and strode away down a different passage, pulling his horse behind him.
As he led the column he explained to Woodgerd, within the others’ hearing, “My man says the perpetrators of this crime are here in the Medina, watching us. They are definitely the ShayTaan gang, renegades from the Taureg Blue Men, with thirty men under arms. Our enemies are confident that we are but a token force wandering aimlessly about on a search. They do not know that you, Colonel, and I, are here.”
Sohkoor paused and smiled. “If they did, they would flee, for they would know the great sultan was about to smite them. We must make haste to Ahmed ben Musa and find the final key to our puzzle.”
“What about that taxman?” inquired Woodgerd as he squeezed his horse through a particularly narrow stretch of the passage.
“I have notified the Pasha of Marrakech of the man’s transgressions. He will be ruminating his mistakes in the Kasbah as we speak. I also sent
