In the Shadow of Swords (33 page)

Dassai appeared. “All will go as planned, Niccolo,” he said with delight. “I have given enough reason to suspect the Sultanand Ciris Sarn. They believe the Sultan is unfit to rule. I have convinced them it is time for Emir Malek to take the throne.”

“How is this possible?” Munif tried to keep the concern out of his voice. He wondered if he would be able to carry out his own plan in time.

“The
majals
are much more powerful than you believe,” Dassai answered. “They control the trade in
Azza
and thus the very wealth of Qatana. Without the council, Qatani influence in Mir’aj will wither and die.” Dassai walked to the chair. Munif wanted desperately to run him through—to end it right there and then. But he could not. Despite all of his fears, the game must still play out. But time was growing short.

“What’s wrong with you, Niccolo? You look ill.”

“No… no… I’m all right.”

“Do you not have faith? Was I wrong to keep you?”

“No, not at all,” Munif replied in Arzani’s tenor. “I have bound my fate to yours. And despite any misgivings, I do believe that you will receive what is justly coming to you. I am more worried about my health than your plans, Fajeer.” He began cautiously to walk toward the stairway. In truth, he felt as though a knife had stabbed his innards.

Dassai made no effort to conceal the contempt he had for his companion. “You are fortunate I still happen to need your services,” he sneered. “Otherwise, I would have the pleasure of gutting you myself.” He turned his back on Munif and walked to the window.

Munif stood, slightly amused by the irony of that last statement.
It will be more than your flesh that I will take from you
, he thought.

Just wait and see
.

12

A PALE moon gleamed across the landscape.

Ilss Cencova stared out the window, his back to Nasir, as he struggled to control his emotions. “I was never certain whom I could trust,” he said. “I was told Pavanan Munif was the man responsible. I questioned this allegation, but found myself unable to come up with any explanation that would absolve him or conclusively lay the blame on anyone else. Only after your message came did I know whom to believe.”

“I’m sorry, Ilss.” Nasir spoke softly. “It was difficult to find a
sufi
capable of getting word to you from Darring. I promise you can trust Pavanan with your life.”

“And what about Marin Altaïr?” Cencova turned to Nasir, his eyes filled with fear.

“She and the others will meet Prince Malek and Ciris Sarn in Riyyal. Marin is our only chance to recover the fifth book and the proof it will bring.” Nasir hesitated. “My family will be disgraced, but it is the only way. I hope that a greater future still lies before us.”

Cencova shook his head. “I promised myself on the grave of her husband that I would let nothing happen to that woman. Tell me, how do I live if she dies?”

“I know it is difficult, yet this is no time to dwell on such questions,” Nasir said sharply. “Marin and the men you sent are more than capable of handling themselves in the face of danger. In the meantime, we have other pressing concerns.”

“Such as?”

“Fajeer will seek to turn many in the Rassan Majalis. They will not know whom to believe. This chaos favors him—he is more cunning than you will ever know. Still, it is my hope that Pavanan Munif will prevent him from succeeding.”

“I hope so.” Cencova walked around to the side of his deskand picked up a parchment. “This message came earlier. It is from Pavanan.”

Nasir took the parchment and read it. “I am to meet him at Miráshel tonight. It says, ‘Beware: looks can be deceiving.’ An odd thing to say.”

“Indeed.” Cencova sighed and sat heavily in his chair. “But there must be a reason. I will alert as many as I can about the current situation.”

Without another word, Nasir turned and left the room. Cencova looked out at the gray afternoon and thought of all the mistakes he’d made that had led them to this. He vowed that Fajeer Dassai would pay. He longed to be the one who ran his sword through the traitor’s heart.

If Munif didn’t do it first.

13

“WOULD HE come?”

Sending the message to the Prince had been an exercise in stealth and cunning for Munif. Dassai kept a keen eye on his companion, watching for any mistake that would provide a reason to call him on his promise to end his life.

It was apparent that Dassai had little patience for Arzani, and a great deal of distaste. Munif didn’t blame him. Arzani had been a man with a soft backbone, and Munif did not at all like the person he was impersonating. He had never had time for a man who believed the best way to get through life was to ingratiate himself with whoever happened to be in charge. Yet the more time Munif spent within Arzani’s flesh, the more he sensed he was being swallowed by Arzani’s mind.

Could it happen?
he wondered.
Shall I become Arzani, and simply continue living as him, without any memory of my previous life? What will happen to me? Will I have any awareness that I‘m destined to livethe remainder of my life as someone else? Or will my spirit become separated from this body, and be sentenced to an eternal hell?

As he ruminated in this fashion, he realized this ruse could not last much longer if he was to maintain any semblance of sanity.

In the end, Munif found a courier who would do anything for a few coins; he sent the boy off to deliver the message to Nasir. He only had to threaten to cut off one of the boy’s ears to swear him to secrecy. Dassai’s ill humor kept most of the servants at arm’s length, and they rarely approached him unless necessary.

Munif was more than a little concerned about leaving Dassai’s side for any length of time, despite his desire to see the Prince again. He felt the man had become unstable. Dassai was drunk with power—and with him in that state, no one within his reach was safe. Munif worried that Dassai might simply tire of Arzani’s insipid whining and decide to kill him to relieve the boredom. However, it seemed Dassai was keeping Arzani around for some as yet unknown purpose.

It was late when Munif went to meet with Nasir. Dassai had finally fallen asleep, much to Munif’s relief. Of course, it helped that he had plied Dassai with glass after glass of wine. After an hour, Dassai had relaxed enough to brag openly about his cunning in arranging the summoners’ massacres in the Mirani kingdoms. He had been especially proud of the innocent blood that had been shed. He spoke of his control over Prince Malek, his disdain for the Sultan and the entire royal family, and the incompetence of the Jassaj and
siris
. “It is only a matter of time,” he slurred just before he nodded off.

Dassai had arranged a meeting with several members of the council. Soon he would convince a sufficient number of the
majals
to kill the Sultan.

Munif mulled all this over as he approached the Miráshel. He hoped Nasir was waiting for him.

As he entered the park he saw the Prince leaning against a statue of white stone. As he tried to raise his hand as a sign to

Nasir that he was approaching, someone grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed up against a tree trunk. Cold, rough ridges of bark dug into his back.

“Niccolo!” Nasir hissed. “Another plot you willingly serve, I see. Whom are you paying off now for his favors?”

Munif laughed and said, “So, tell me what you really think of me, my Prince.”

Nasir jumped back, confused.

“What’s going on here?” Nasir ran his hands over Munif’s shoulders. “Is that you, Pavanan?”

“Yes, it is,” Munif said, chuckling. “Thank all that is good, I can finally speak to you. And I can talk to someone as myself rather than that spineless worm whose face I wear.”

Nasir looked at him with wonder. “How?”

“I discovered the location of Arzani with the help of Ilss Cencova. I killed him and used his skin as a disguise. These have been the darkest days of my life, my friend.”

Nasir threw back his head to laugh heartily, then remembered where they were and stifled it; he spoke seriously and quietly. “I can imagine. What have you discovered? Where is Fajeer?”

“I am safe for now,” Munif said. “He still needs men he thinks he can trust.”

Nasir raised his eyebrows in surprise. “It’s a brave thing you do, Munif. I admire it.”

“He suspects nothing. He is at his house, asleep—passed out, actually. However, not before he shared with me the details of his upcoming meeting.”

Munif told him where he thought the location with the
majals
might take place. “I cannot believe they can actually do this, hold a gathering of such treachery in the very chambers of the council.”

“Once we’re certain of the exact time, we’ll make our move,” Nasir said carefully. “There must be a reason he needs Niccolo there. I sense that he may have a sinister plan for you.”

“So do I,” Munif agreed. “I find it difficult to believe he hasallowed the man to live this long. But I cannot expose myself too soon. I must allow this meeting to take place.”

Nasir nodded. “We will be there with you, my friend. That I promise.”

As Munif made his way back through the darkness, he hoped Dassai had not noticed his absence.

Soon he would know for sure.

14

FAJEER DASSAI was wide awake.

Munif entered the room to find Dassai stoking the meager fire in the hearth; he did not look up when Munif walked in. For that, Munif was grateful; he was not certain he had managed to suppress his shock upon seeing the man absolutely unaffected by a night of heavy drinking.

“Nice of you to return, Niccolo,” Dassai said. “Where were you?”

“I…” Munif noticed that the chair was gone. “I went out for a walk to clear my mind, Fajeer.” Munif hesitated, checking his voice as he spoke, hoping he had not resumed his own inflections after speaking with Nasir. “I assumed you were resting for the night,” he said.

“Heed this warning,” Dassai spoke evenly as he stood and picked up his sword from the table. “I am not a drunk, nor do I sleep deeply.” He stood in front of Munif. “It would take something much stronger to leave me unconscious.”

The perspiration on Munif’s upper lip was real. The slight tremor in his legs was not something he had feigned in order to match Arzani’s likely reaction. He was truly afraid for his life.

Dassai laid the flat of the blade against Munif’s neck. “If I thought for one moment that you might cross me, Niccolo, I would take off your head with one swipe of this steel. I would notwait for you to fulfill your promise to me and take your own life. I have no such patience. Do you understand me?”

“Ye-yes… yes, I do. I have done nothing to betray you, I swear!”

Dassai smiled a tight, humorless smile and put the sword down. “That’s good. I still see a good future for you, my dear man. And I would very much dislike it if I should have to change my plans at this late date.” Dassai sheathed his sword and set it back on the table. He turned toward Munif and let out a burst of hearty laughter. “Don’t look so frightened, Niccolo. I said a great future lies ahead for you. You will soon see.” The smile disappeared, and his eyes narrowed. “Now let me be.”

Munif turned away and sat on his bunk. When Dassai returned to the hearth to stir up the fire, Munif furtively studied the sword on the table. He pondered its precision and its beauty, and considered that it must be ready for whatever might happen.

Here was yet another opportunity for him to murder his nemesis. But he knew that he must not kill Dassai now. He must wait. Dassai was not stupid; he would be expecting that Arzani would be foolish enough to challenge him. He was always watchful, always poised for action.

No, this was not the time for vengeance. On the other hand, neither would there be anyone sleeping here tonight.

Of that Munif was certain.

15

CENCOVA WAS relieved.

Until the Prince informed him of the meeting, he had no way of knowing that Munif was at this very moment wondering if Dassai had been completely truthful, or if he had been feeding Munif false information as a test of his mettle. For Cencova, this would be his opportunity to avenge the murder of so many—

Hiril Altaïr foremost.

Cencova arranged a force of
siris
and an alchemist to close the noose around the traitor’s neck. They planned their strategy with care, mindful of all possible contingencies. The only thing they did not plan for was failure. They had come too far for that to be an option. If they did not succeed in stopping Dassai, everything would be lost. Dassai would rule through his puppet Malek.

As the first sun rose above the horizon, Cencova and Nasir felt very much alone. Since neither had a propensity for idle conversation, they watched the sunrise in silence. Each man considered his life up to this point. They agreed that they had had good lives—and that whatever sacrifices they were about to make were worth it, when they considered the many blessings they had received throughout the years.

Behind them, a horse snorted. They turned to see Munif mounting the steed he had borrowed from the stables. Munif glanced their way, and when he had confirmed they were observing him, he turned the horse away from them and crossed his fingers behind his back. This was a familiar signal. It meant something had happened; there might be problems.

Nasir and Cencova went over to where their own horses were stabled. They ducked behind a large bale of hay just as Dassai came out of the house. Through a space between the bales, they watched as he sprang onto his horse and kicked it into a gallop. They would have to put plenty of distance between themselves and Dassai so that he wouldn’t notice them following.

Now, as they watched, Dassai and a group of men who had come to meet him moved up the road away from the city’s center. Then, from the east, they spied a large number of men also riding toward Dassai. Dassai waved a greeting as they joined him.

Cencova recognized some of the men and was dismayed. Fajeer Dassai’s lies had indeed succeeded.