Iris Johansen - The Treasure

Layla’s eyes widened. “Why, you bastard.”

“In truth, that’s exactly what I am. But it’s also true that the guilt is Tarik’s if he doesn’t provide me with the weapon I need.” He smiled at Layla. “And you’ve already told me how prone he is to suffer guilt.”

“He’s not prone to be made a fool.”

“If he were a fool, I’d try to trick him. I’m merely telling him the truth.” His gaze shifted to Tarik. “My death would not serve either your conscience or your well-being. Whom would you saddle with your grail? All your worrying and soul-searching would be for naught. Much better to let me have it.”

“No,” Layla said flatly.

“It’s my decision, Layla.” Tarik added wryly, “After all, you gave me the custody of it.”

“The risk is too great.”

“I promise you that I’ll return it safely,” Kadar said.

“Dead men don’t keep promises.”

“Tarik?”

“I’ll consider it.” He held up his hand to still Layla’s protest. “He speaks the truth, Layla. He could die. Nasim could kill him.”

“Either of us would die to save the grail from Nasim.”

“But it would be our choice.”

Kadar knew he had done all he could. He thought it would probably be enough. “You’ll let me know tomorrow?”

Tarik nodded. “Tomorrow evening. I’ll think about what you’ve said.”

Kadar turned to leave.

“But now I want a promise from you.”

Kadar glanced inquiringly over his shoulder.

“You say that Selene is too stunned to think of anything but Nasim, but what of you? Aren’t you avoiding thinking about Eshe too? I can think of at least three questions you should have asked me that you didn’t. Where is your curiosity, Kadar? You may not believe Eshe can do what Selket wished it to do, but what if it can? What if it’s not a myth? What if everyone could live far beyond their sixtieth year? Promise me you’ll think upon it.” Tarik smiled grimly. “And think what you risk in losing the grail, if it’s not a myth.”

Kadar nodded slowly. “A fair trade.”

But he didn’t want to consider those possibilities, he realized as he left the terrace. Tarik was right: He had been trying to avoid thinking about anything but the ways and means of accomplishing what Selene needed. He knew the reason he had instantly rejected the promise of Eshe was that he had known the idea held a fascination for him. It piqued his curiosity, and that had always been the goad setting him into motion. The chance to learn, to probe, to become more than when he started.

But he must not be caught by that lure. His entire attention must be devoted to helping Selene, not thinking of a clearly impossible-

But in helping Selene, he had made a promise to Tarik. That promise had virtually forced him to think of the possibility, the alluring myth.

Oh, yes.

He plunged eagerly into the wondrous territory of the impossible.

____________________

“It took you long enough. It’s the middle of the afternoon.” Selene threw open the door. “You could have persuaded God to make another world in this time.”

“It might have taken a little bit longer than that.” Kadar entered the chamber. “Though if I truly brought all my powers of persuasion to bear, it could-”

“What happened?”

“Tarik is going to consider it.” He held up his hand. “I don’t think there’s a doubt that he’ll do it.”

“There’s always doubt until he agrees. It couldn’t have taken this long. Why didn’t you come and tell me sooner?”

“I was busy.”

“Doing what?”

“I took a long walk.”

“A walk? And you let me wait for-” Her gaze narrowed on his face. It was almost without expression, and yet she was aware of something just beneath the surface. Excitement. It was the same excitement she had seen on his face the night before they had arrived at Sienbara. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why do you look-”

“It has nothing to do with Nasim. And that’s the only subject in which you’re interested, isn’t it?”

He was wrong. She was intensely interested in whatever had stirred that excitement. But it was clear he wasn’t going to share it. She smothered her disappointment and nodded. “That’s the only thing that’s important right now.”

He smiled. “You’re sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. When will we know?”

“Tomorrow evening.”

Her disappointment and frustration increased. “Perhaps I should talk to him.”

“I know it annoys you to sit and do nothing, but that would be the wrong thing to do. Let him come to the decision himself.”

“And we wait and twiddle our thumbs.”

“No, we sup. We talk. I need you to tell me more of Layla. He fights it, but she wields great influence with Tarik. Perhaps a game of chess.” He bowed. “If you’ll do me the honor.”

“I don’t wish to play chess.”

“Too bad. In your present distraught state I’d easily sweep you away. Then do you wish me to leave you?”

“Would you?” she asked, skeptical.

“No, I’m selfish. After this endeavor gets under way, I don’t know how often I’ll be able to enjoy your company. I intend to take full advantage of this lull.”

“Then, since I have no choice, I suppose I’ll have to put up with you.”

“And you’re relieved to have even my humble company to while away the time.” His eyes glimmered with mischief. “Admit it.”

She was relieved. She didn’t want to spend any more time alone and, for some reason, Kadar’s hard edge seemed to have vanished. “Perhaps.” She smiled. “Very well, I admit it.”

“Ah, graciousness in a barren world.” He took her arm and led her toward the door. “Come. I’ll show you the garden.”

“It’s beautiful.” Her finger gently touched the petals of a magnificent crimson rose growing on a bush beside the path. “I’ve never seen roses this late in the year. Scotland is not kind to roses.”

“This is a gentler land. Could you become used to it?”

She shrugged. “I suppose one could become accustomed to anything, but I prefer Montdhu. This land is too easy. I don’t see how the people here keep from becoming soft.”

He chuckled. “Not all people require a challenge every day.”

“Then they should.” She gazed at the serene stillness of the crystal pool. “It’s lovely, but I cannot imagine sitting here every day.”

“I’m certain the woman for whom this villa was purchased was not of your nature. Tarik tells me the Pope bought the villa for his favorite mistress. She created this world to her own taste.”

“Then she must have been a very docile and restrained woman.”

“Not too restrained, or the Pope would not have thought her worth keeping.” He paused. “Tarik says she gave him a son. It was the son who sold the villa to Tarik.”

His tone was odd, and she asked, “So?”

“His name was Vaden.”

Her eyes widened. “Vaden?” It was too bizarre. It could not be the same warrior who had been a Knight Templar with Ware. The enigmatic knight who had pursued and persecuted and, finally, saved them all. Yet she had heard that Vaden came from Rome and no one knew his background. “The son of the Pope?”

“It would explain why he was accepted into the Knights Templar.”

“It can’t be our Vaden. The coincidence is too great.”

“The description Tarik gave me is very close.” He gazed thoughtfully down into the mirrored waters of the pool. “And haven’t you noticed some people seem tied together throughout their lives? Their paths weave in and out, come together and part, to form a pattern.”

“Astonishing,” she murmured, still dwelling on the coincidence. “Is he still in Rome?”