Whirlwind (149 page)

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Authors: James Clavell

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BOOK: Whirlwind
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"oh, but i am, najoud. i forgive you. but the punishment was for lying in the name of god," he had said gravely, "not punishment for lying about my sister and me, causing us years of grief, losing us our father's love. of course we forgive you that, don't we, azadeh?"

 

 

"yes, yes, that is forgiven."

 

 

"that is forgiven openly. but lying in the name of god? the khan made a decree. i cannot go against it."

 

 

mahmud burst out over her pleadings, "i knew nothing about this, highness, nothing, i swear before god, i believed her lies. i divorce her formally for being a traitor to you, i never knew anything about her lies!"

 

 

in the great room everyone watched them both grovel, some loathing them, some despising them for failing when they had had the power. "at dawn, mahmud, you are banished, you and your family," he had said so sadly, "penniless, under guard... pending my pleasure. as to divorce it is forbidden in my house. if you wish to do that north of meshed... insha'allah. you are still banished there, pending my pleasure..."

 

 

oh, you were perfect, hakim, he told himself delightedly, for of course everyone knew this was your first test. you were perfect! never once did you

 

 

gloat openly or reveal your true purpose, never once did you raise your voice, keeping calm and gentle and grave as though you really were sad with your father's sentence but, rightly, unable to overrule it. and the benign, sweet promise of "pending my pleasure"? my pleasure's that you're all banished forever and if i hear one tiny threat of a plot, i will snuff you all out as quickly as an old candle. by god and the prophet, on whose name be praised, i'll make the ghost of my father proud of this khan of all the gorgons may he be in hell for believing such wanton lies of an evil old hag.

 

 

so much to thank god for, he thought, mesmerised by the firelight flickering in the koran's jewels. didn't all the years of banishment teach you secretiveness, deception, and patience? now you've your power to cement, azerbaijan to defend, a world to conquer, wives to find, sons to breed, and a lineage to begin. may najoud and her whelps rot!

 

 

at dawn he had "regretfully" gone with ahmed to witness their departure. wistfully he had insisted that none of the rest of the family see them off. "why increase their sorrow and mine?" there, on his exact instructions, he had watched ahmed and guards tear through their mountains of bags, removing anything of value until there was but one suitcase each for them and their three children who watched, petrified.

 

 

"your jewelry, woman," ahmed had said.

 

 

"you've taken everything, everything... please, hakim... highness, please..." najoud sobbed. her special jewel satchel, secreted in a pocket of her suitcase, had already been added to the pile of valuables. abruptly ahmed reached out and ripped off her pendant and tore the neck of her dress open. a dozen necklaces weighed her down, diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires.

 

 

"where did you get these?" hakim had said, astonished.

 

 

"they're... they're my... my mother's and mine i bought over the ye " najoud stopped as ahmed's knife came out. "all right... all right..." frantically she pulled the necklaces over her head, unfastened the rest, and gave them to him. "now you have everyth "

 

 

"your rings!"

 

 

"but, highness, leave me someth " she screamed as ahmed impatiently grabbed a finger to cut it off with the ring still on it, but she pulled away, tore the rings off and also the bracelets secreted up her sleeve, howling with grief, and threw them on the floor. "now you've everything..."

 

 

"now pick them up and hand them to his highness, on your knees!" ahmed hissed, and when she did not obey instantly, he grabbed her by the hair and shoved her face on the floor, and now she was groveling and obeying.

 

 

ah, that was a feast, hakim thought, reliving every second of their humiliation. after they're dead, god will burn them.

 

 

he made another obeisance, put god away until next prayer at noon, and

 

 

jumped up, brimming with energy. a maid was on her knees pouring the coffee, and he saw the fear in her eyes and was very pleased. the moment he became khan, he had known it was vital to work quickly to take over the reins of power. yesterday morning he had inspected the palace. the kitchen was not clean enough for him, so he had had the chef beaten senseless and put outside the walls, then promoted the second chef in his place with dire warnings. four guards were banished for oversleeping, two maids whipped for slovenliness. "but, hakim, my darling," azadeh had said when they were alone, "surely there was no need to beat them?"

 

 

"in a day or two there won't be," he had told her. "meanwhile the palace will change to the way i want it."

 

 

"of course you know best, my darling. what about the ransom?"

 

 

"ah, yes, at once." he had sent for ahmed.

 

 

"i regret, highness, the khan your father ordered the messenger's throat cut yesterday afternoon."

 

 

both he and azadeh had been appalled. "but that's terrible! what can be done now?" she had cried out.

 

 

ahmed said, "i will try to contact the tribesmen perhaps, because now the khan your father is dead they will... they will treat with you newly. i will try."

 

 

sitting there in the khan's place, hakim had seen ahmed's suave confidence and realized the trap he was in. fear swept up from his bowels. his fingers were toying with the emerald ring on his finger. "azadeh, come back in half an hour, please."

 

 

"of course," she said obediently, and when he was alone with ahmed, he said, "what arms do you carry?"

 

 

"a knife and an automatic, highness."

 

 

"give them to me." he remembered how his heart had throbbed and there was an unusual dryness in his mouth but this had had to be done and done alone. ahmed had hesitated then obeyed, clearly not pleased to be disarmed. but hakim had pretended not to notice, just examined the action of the gun and cocked it thoughtfully. "now listen carefully, counselor: you won't try to contact the tribesmen, you will do it very quickly and you will make arrangements to have my sister's husband returned safely on your head, by god and the prophet of god!"

 

 

"i of course, highness." ahmed tried to keep the anger off his face.

 

 

lazily hakim pointed the gun at his head, sighting down it. "i swore by god to treat you as first counselor and i will while you live." his smile twisted. "even if you happen to be crippled, perhaps emasculated, even blinded by your enemies. do you have enemies, ahmed dursak the turkoman?"

 

 

ahmed laughed, at ease now, pleased with the man who had become khan

 

 

and not the whelp that he had imagined so much easier to deal with a man, he thought, his confidence returning. "many, highness, many. isn't it custom to measure the quality of a man by the importance of his enemies? insha'allah! i didn't know you knew how to handle guns."

 

 

"there are many things you don't know about me, ahmed," he had said with grim satisfaction, an important victory gained. he had handed him back the knife, but not the automatic. "i'll keep this as pishkesh. for a year and a day don't come into my presence armed."

 

 

"then how can i protect you, highness?"

 

 

"with wisdom." he had allowed a small measure of the violence he had kept pent up for years to show. "you have to prove yourself. to me. to me alone. what pleased my father won't necessarily please me. this is a new era, with new opportunities, new dangers. remember, by god, the blood of my father rests easily in my veins."

 

 

the remainder of the day and well into the evening he had received men of importance from tabriz and azerbaijan and asked questions of them, about the insurrection and the leftists, the mujhadin, and fedayeen and other factions. bazaaris had arrived and mullahs and two ayatollahs, local army commanders and his cousin, the chief of police, and he had confirmed the man's appointment. all of them had brought suitable pishkesh.

 

 

and so they should, he thought, very satisfied, remembering their contempt in the past when his fortune had been zero and his banishment to khoi common knowledge. their contempt will be very costly to every last one...

 

 

"your bath is ready, highness, and ahmed's waiting outside."

 

 

"bring him in, ishtar. you stay." he watched the door open. ahmed was tired and crumpled.

 

 

"salaam, highness."

 

 

"what about the ransom?"

 

 

"late last night i found the tribesmen. there were two of them. i explained that abdollah khan was dead and the new khan had ordered me to give them half the ransom asked at once as a measure of faith, promising them the remainder when the pilot is safely back. i sent them north in one of our cars with a trusted driver and another car to follow secretly."

 

 

"do you know who they are, where their village is?"

 

 

"they told me they were kurds, one named ishmud, the other alilah, their chief al-drain and their village was called broken tree in the mountains north of khoi i'm sure all lies, highness, and they're not kurds though they claim to be. i'd say they were just tribesmen, bandits mostly."

 

 

"good. where did you get the money to pay them?"

 

 

"the khan, your father, put twenty million rials into my safekeeping against emergencies."

 

 

"bring the balance to me before sunset."

 

 

"yes, highness."

 

 

"are you armed?"

 

 

ahmed was startled. "only with my knife, highness."

 

 

"give it to me," he said, hiding his pleasure that ahmed had fallen into the trap he had set for him, accepting the knife, hilt first. "didn't i tell you not to come into my presence armed for a year and a day?"

 

 

"but as... you gave my knife back to me i thought... i thought the knife..." ahmed stopped, seeing hakim standing in front of him, knife held correctly, eyes dark and hard and the pattern of the father. behind him, the guard ishtar watched openmouthed. the hackles on ahmed's neck twisted. "please excuse me, highness, i thought i had your permission," he said in real fear.

 

 

for a moment hakim khan just stared at ahmed, the knife poised in his hand, then he slashed upward. with great skill only the point of the blade went through ahmed's coat, touched the skin but only enough to score it then came out again in perfect position for the final blow. but hakim did not make it, though he wanted to see blood flow and this a good time, but not the perfect time. he still had need of ahmed.

 

 

"i give you back your... your body." he chose the word and all it implied with great deliberation. "intact, just this once."

 

 

"yes, highness, thank you, highness," ahmed muttered, astonished that he was still alive, and went down on his knees. "i... it will never happen again."

 

 

"no, it won't. stay there. wait outside, ishtar." hakim khan sat back on the cushions and toyed with the knife, waiting for the adrenaline to subside, remembering that vengeance was a dish best eaten cold. "tell me everything you know about the soviet, this man called mzytryk: what holds he had over my father, my father over him."

 

 

ahmed obeyed. he told him what hashemi fazir had said in the 125, what the khan had told him in secret over the years, about the dacha near tbilisi that he too had visited, how the khan contacted mzytryk, their code words, what hashemi fazir had said and threatened, what was in mzytryk's letter, what he had overheard and what he had witnessed a few days ago.

 

 

the air hissed out of hakim's mouth. "my father was going to take my sister to... he was going to take her to this dacha and give her to mzytryk?"

 

 

"yes, highness, he even ordered me to send her north if... if he had to leave here for hospital in tehran."

 

 

"send for mzytryk. urgently. ahmed, do it now. at once."

 

 

"yes, highness," ahmed said and trembled at the contained violence. "best, at the same time, best to remind him of his promises to abdollah khan, that you expect them fulfilled."

 

 

"good, very good. you've told me everything?"

 

 

854 names clavell

 

 

"everything i can remember now," ahmed told him sincerely. "there must be other things in time i can tell you all manner of secrets, khan of all the gorgons, and i swear again before god to serve you faithfully." i'll tell you everything, he thought fervently, except the manner of the khan's death and that now, more than ever, i want azadeh as wife. some way i will make you agree she'll be my only real protection against you, spawn of satan!

 

 

just outside tabriz: 7:20 a.m. erikki's 212 came over the rise of the forest, inbound at max revs. all the way erikki had been at treetop level, avoiding roads and airfields and towns and villages, his mind riveted on azadeh and vengeance against abdollah khan, all else forgotten. now, suddenly ahead, the city was rushing toward them. as suddenly a vast unease washed over him.

 

 

"where's the palace, pilot?" sheik bayazid shouted gleefully. "where is it?"

 

 

"over the ridge, agha," he said into the boom mike, part of him wanting to add, we'd better rethink this, decide if the attack's wise, the other part shouting, this's the only chance you've got, erikki, you can't change plans, but how in the helltre you going to escape with azadeh from the palace and from this bunch of maniacs? "tell your men to fasten their seat belts, to wait until the skids touch down, not to take off their safety catches until they're on the ground, and then to spread out, tell two of them to guard the chopper and protect it with their lives. i'll count down from ten for the landing and... and i'll lead."

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