would get if she also provided at least circumstantial evidence that you were in league with me and had sold out your own navy. Imagine what the governor would do for her then.”
Ghassan blinked.
“I know she can’t be trusted, Samir, but are you sure about all of this?”
“You can either believe me and we can get the hell out of here and somewhere safe, or you can wait a couple of minutes for hard evidence to turn up and take you into custody. I told you a few weeks ago that my offer would remain open. You’ve done your duty Ghassan; all there is left now is punishment and ignominy. Come with me and we can work it all out.”
“I’m not cut out for piracy, Samir” Ghassan replied, shaking his head “You know that.”
His brother rolled his eyes.
“Are you cut out for jail, beatings and executions? Come on.”
For a moment, Ghassan dithered, staring at his brother and then, taking a deep breath, he strode across to the door, still standing ajar. Ducking to one side, he peered through the gap. A number of uniformed figures lurked by the doorways opposite.
“She sinks to a new low every time I see her. What are they waiting for, Samir?”
“Either they’re not all here yet, or they’re waiting on a signal from Asima or, more likely, they’re waiting for their men to block all the alleys and streets leading away from here. They’ve got to seal us in.”
Ghassan nodded.
“I’m assuming you have a plan?”
“I used to put together all the most complicated roof races, didn’t I?” Samir smiled.
“You almost got us killed so many times.”
“Yes, but we’re bigger and stronger now, Ghassan. And no guard in M’Dahz knows the roofs like we do. How’s your memory?”
Ghassan shrugged as he bent and stuffed the various items he had on the nearby cupboard into a bag.
“Depends where you’re thinking of heading?”
“My ship’s going to be in trouble. Either it’s already under the control of the guard and the men are in custody or the crew have taken her out to sea to be safe. Either way, though, we’re going to have to get to the port and find out.”
Ghassan shrugged.
“Then we need to take ‘Four Temples’, cross by the dye factory, turn once we’re over ‘Broken Promises’, down into ‘Coppersmiths’ and across the five warehouses. That’ll bring us to the port on the west, away from the gate.”
Samir laughed.
“You see, I would have foregone ‘Coppersmiths’ and taken the long jump over ‘Seven Gables’. Quicker.”
Ghassan reached out and squeezed his brother’s shoulder.
“You keep coming back for me, Samir. I do nothing but try to take you in, and yet you come to my aid every time. How can I be worth all the effort? I’m no better in some ways than Asima.”
The smaller brother shook his head.
“You’ve always done what you thought was right, even when it hurt you. You’re in no way the same as Asima and you know it. Now come on.”
Ghassan grabbed his bag and nodded as the two men turned and made for the small staircase in the corner of the room. At the foot, Samir stopped and stepped aside, gesturing for Ghassan to go first. The taller brother frowned, but took a step upwards and suddenly cried out.
Samir blinked and reached out to grab his brother as the taller man fell back from the stairs, a knife protruding from his thigh. The two men staggered back against the wall, Ghassan’s leg unable to take the weight with the painful wound.
“Leaving so soon, boys?”
They looked back to the door to see Asima standing in the open archway, her hand still raised from throwing the weapon.
“No rooftop races, today, gentlemen. You’re my ticket back to Pelasia, so I’m afraid I can’t let you leave.”
Ghassan clenched his teeth as he reached down and pulled the knife from his leg with a grunt A spurt of blood gushed out and down his leg.
“Asima? You going to keep two of my fingers to give the governor as a gift?”
Samir frowned.
“Forget her. Come on.”
The sound of metal outside testified to the closing presence of the guards. They had seconds only.
“Go, Samir.”
The pirate stared at his brother, who was wincing from the pain in his leg.
“I’m not leaving you again, Ghassan.”
“Yes you are. I’m yours, Samir. You already knew that somehow, and now so do I, but not at the moment. Come back for me when you’re safe.”
For a long moment, Samir stared at his brother, but finally nodded.
“No, no, no…” came a voice from across the room
Asima was already rushing past the low table and, as she moved, she drew another knife from her belt. Samir shook his head, but Ghassan turned and pushed him into the stairwell and urging him to go before turning back to meet the assault of their childhood friend. Asima lunged like a wild animal, snarling as she swiped the sharp blade back and forth at Ghassan’s face.
She was untrained. She may be angry and dangerous, but Ghassan had dealt with killers his whole adult life. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his leg, he twisted and threw up his arm inside her last swing, blocking her attack. Reaching up, he grasped her wrist so hard that he feared he may break it. Asima’s fingers loosened and the knife fell from her hand, but there was no easing of her vicious attack, as she leaned forward and sank her teeth into his hand, the incisors meeting between his thumb and forefinger. He howled and, reaching back, delivered her a stinging back-handed slap with his free arm.
Asima fell away to the floor, stunned, and Ghassan looked up, blood running down his hand and arm and dripping into the growing pool below him on the floor. Half a dozen guards stood in the entrance to the room. He smiled weakly.
“I don’t suppose any of you gentlemen thought to bring a bandage?”
Sighing, he sank to his knees as the guards fanned out around him, weapons at the ready.
In which old games are revived
Samir clambered through the open window and dropped to the dusty rooftop below. Behind, he could still hear the activity in the main room and was suddenly faced with a problem. He needed to know where Ghassan and Asima were bound, but within moments there would be guards pouring up the stairs in pursuit of this infamous pirate captain, while their fellows already occupied the nearby streets and would see him jump between roofs if they were paying attention. Problems… and very little time to decide on a course of action.
He bit his lip.
Asima could only reasonably be going one place from here: the governor’s complex, and she would be in no hurry. Possibly the most senior of the guards would escort her there, as he’d want to glean a share of the glory for the catch… or perhaps he wouldn’t, since they’d failed to catch Samir. He briefly wondered whether Asima would give chase. No; she’d tell the guards where to look and then she’d go see the governor.
The larger question was over Ghassan. Would they take him to the governor too? Or perhaps to the guard house in the main square that stood behind the civic hall? Then there was also the prison that occupied the northwestern-most tower of the city walls, hanging above the sea and separated from the town itself by a hundred yards of screed slope. And finally, there was the possibility that they would just strap him into a wagon or onto a horse and take him to Calphoris to his superiors.
