Iris Johansen - The Treasure

“I’ll not promise to stay with you in Rome. When Antonio comes with the message, I’ll have a few words with him.” He paused. “And if I find you’ve lied to me about putting her on a ship to Scotland, you won’t live another day.”

“I haven’t lied. I made all the arrangements.” He shrugged. “But men’s arrangements are often altered by destiny. One must always take that into account.”

“Not where Selene is concerned. This Antonio had better be able to care for her.”

“I thought long and hard before I chose Antonio for the task.” Tarik moved down the hall. “He can be trusted to do what’s necessary.”

GENOA

“I don’t trust him,” Haroun whispered, his gaze on Antonio riding a few yards ahead of them. “And I don’t think this is the way to the waterfront.”

Neither did Selene. She had caught glimpses of the sea from outside Genoa and, since they entered the gates, it seemed they were moving away from it. But she might be wrong, and Haroun’s first judgment was the most important. “Why don’t you trust him?”

“I don’t know. He keeps too much to himself. He’s too quiet. When he was in the guardroom, he would not… He was not like the other soldiers.”

“That’s no condemnation. All men are different. Tell me something of substance.”

“I don’t trust him.” Haroun scowled. “And we should not be here. Lord Kadar would not like it that you ran away without telling him.”

It was not the first time he had made his feelings known on that score, and her temper was raw. The journey had been long and one she had not wanted to make. Haroun’s criticism was only an additional abrasive. “I don’t care what Lord Kadar likes,” she said through clenched teeth. “How many times must I tell you that I don’t belong to him or any man? I make the decisions that concern me.”

Haroun immediately backed down. “I did not mean-It’s just that Antonio is not-”

“Antonio led us safely here. If he was betraying us to Nasim, he would have done it before we left Tuscany. And Lord Tarik sent Antonio with us. Do you suspect him also?”

Haroun shook his head. “Lord Tarik is an honorable man. But Antonio could be in the pay of Nasim. Perhaps he paid him to bring us here, where he could gather us in like fish in a net.”

“And perhaps you’ve decided you like serving Lord Tarik and don’t wish to go home to Lord Ware?”

“No.” Haroun’s eyes widened in horror. “It’s not so, Lady Selene. Lord Ware is my master. It’s true I’ve enjoyed serving under Lord Tarik, but I would never-”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Selene cut him short. The rawness of her own pain was making her unfair. Haroun was genuinely worried, and it was never wise to ignore instinct. She just wished her mind was clearer so that she could make a judgment. She had felt as if she were wading through a fog since she left Sienbara. “And we will watch Antonio carefully until we meet the captain of Lord Tarik’s ship.”

Haroun nodded with satisfaction. “We must be ready to-”

“We’re here.” Antonio was riding back toward them, smiling broadly. It was the first smile she had seen on his face since they started the journey. He waved at a small building just ahead. “I thought it best to bring you to an inn, where you could have a clean bed and water to wash away the dust of the road before we go to the ship. I’ll wager you’ll have enough of seawater before your journey is over.”

She heard Haroun mutter a curse as he dismounted. “I’ll go in and see if the quarters are fitting for you.”

And that there was no trap waiting inside. She could not allow him to do it. “No, I’ll go by myself.”

“It’s clean enough,” Antonio said as he turned his horse. “I’ve stayed there many times. But see for yourself. I’ll go fetch the captain.”

She watched him ride leisurely away. If he had set a trap, he showed no sign of guilt. Perhaps there was no trap. It could be that Haroun’s suspicions were groundless. She slipped from the saddle. “Wait here.”

“No, I’ll go in and-”

“Wait here,” she repeated. “That’s an order, Haroun.” She strode into the inn before he could protest.

The hall was small and filled with crudely crafted wooden tables. The scent of herbs and meat drifted to her from the large open fireplace across the room.

The rushes on the floor were fresh, the wood of the tables clean. She had seen many inns like this before. The plump, balding man coming toward her was smiling cheerfully. “Ah, welcome, I’m Mario. How may I serve you?”

She could see nothing threatening here. It was certainly too small to hide any force sent by Nasim. A little of her tension left her. “A chamber, a bath, and hot meals for me and my man in the stable yard.”

“At once.” He led her toward the stairs. “I have only one small chamber. You’re fortunate it’s unoccupied. Your man will have to sleep in the common room or the stable.”

One chamber. Again, little room for any hidden men. “I’ll need it for only one night, perhaps less. The bath is the most important.” They had reached the room at the top of the stairs and Mario was throwing open the door. “I will need fresh soap and-”

There was someone standing at the window across the chamber.

Tall.

Billowing black cloak. Dark hair drawn back in a queue.

Nasim.

She whirled back toward the stairs.

“No.” Mario’s hand was grasping her shoulder. His tone was no longer jovial.

She kneed him in the groin.

He squealed, but his grasp didn’t loosen.

Her hand tightened on the dagger beneath her cloak.

She had no chance to draw it.

“Bitch.” Mario jerked her back into the room and cuffed her hard on the back of the neck.

Pain.

She was falling.

She mustn’t faint. Fight off the dizziness. Nasim would bend over her. She must be ready to plunge the knife into his chest.

Footsteps on the wooden floor. She kept her eyes tightly closed.

He was coming toward her.

“Idiot. I told you not to hurt her.”

“I had to do it. She tried to unman me.”

“I’d do it myself if I didn’t know your brains are all in your gonads.”

That low voice was not Nasim’s. Selene’s eyes flew open.

A woman!

“So Mario didn’t do as much damage as I feared.” The woman’s gaze was on Selene’s face. “You’re pale, but that could be fear.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“You ran away.”

“I thought you were someone else. Nasim.”

“I’m not flattered you thought I was a man. But I can be much more dangerous than Nasim.” She turned to Mario. “Go get the boy Haroun and give him food. Tell him she’s bathing and will talk to him later.”

Mario scampered from the chamber.

“Who are you?” Selene asked. “Are you one of Nasim’s followers?”

“I follow no one.” The woman moved toward the basin across the room. “Sit up and remove your hand from that dagger. I’ve no desire to harm you until I find out what I need to know.”

Selene’s hand stayed on the dagger hilt as she rose to a sitting position. She sat watching as the woman dipped a cloth in the water in the basin. She was perhaps near her thirtieth year, as tall as most men, broad shouldered, and the black cloak she wore half hid, half revealed the lean grace of her body. Her face was not beautiful. Her nose was a trifle too large and her jaw too firm and broad, but her mouth was full and beautifully shaped and her large, dark eyes truly magnificent. “I‘ll tell you nothing.”

“Don’t be so hasty. You have no idea what I want to know.” She was coming back toward Selene and stopped a few feet away. She tossed the damp cloth into her lap. “Wash your face and then press the cloth to the back of your neck. I’d do it for you, but I don’t believe you’d appreciate my service, and I’m not good at that sort of thing anyway.” She sat down in a chair and stretched out her long legs in front of her. “We will talk as soon as you finish.”