Archiwum
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- Chris Owen, Jodi Payne [Deviations 05] Safe Words (pdf)
- Carol Lynne [Cattle Valley 05] Physical Therapy (pdf)
- Lien_Merete_ _Zapomniany_ogrĂłd_05_ _Spotkanie
- Jack McKinney RoboTech 05 Force of Arms
- (05) Zbigniew Nienacki Pan Samochodzik i ... Niesamowity dwĂłr
- 05 Pogrzebane tajemnice
- Balogh Mary [Bedwynowie 01] Noc miłości
- McComas_Mary_Kay_ _Pocałuj_mnie
- Janrae Frank Journey of Sacred King 01 My Sister's Keeper
- Balogh Mary Aria namietności
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even for an infusion of energy. However, the thought of the subsequent
enervation held me back, and we continued through the banana and orange groves
to the farm where we had abandoned our mules and our possessions. Ali and
Mahmoud had agreed to leave us one of the mules and basic provisions, carrying
the rest to Jerusalem before us.
To take both our minds off our troubles, I fell back on a comfortable,
long-established ritual: I asked Holmes about the case.
Holmes, do you have any thoughts about the identity of the man in Western
clothing seen speaking to the mullah?
Many thoughts, Russell, but no conclusions.
It could be anyone.
Hardly that, he said drily.
Perhaps not anyone. Just any male in the country taller than the average
Arab who comes up to my chin and wears a hat instead of a headcloth.
Russell, Russell, he chided. He must be either English or European, if he
impressed Mahmoud s witness as not being in uniform. Too, it is unlikely that
anyone who does not have an ear in the British camp would know enough about
Allenby s business to lay hands on the car transporting the Hazr brothers.
I glanced over at him, then away. As I had hoped, the colour was back in his
face as the working of his mind lessened the discomfort of his body. In
addition to which, criticising me always cheered him up.
How will we find him? I asked.
Wait for him to reveal some piece of knowledge unknown to others, perhaps. He
will give himself away in the end.
The man who& questioned you. Could it be he?
That man was by no means British in his manner, although physical disguise is
of course a possibility, he answered, his voice even.
But he did not know who you actually are?
He seemed to believe that he was dealing with a half-literate Arab, but I
would not swear to it. I do know that he is a very clever man, when he chooses
to exert himself.
If he thought you an Arab, that leaves out a number of possibilities as his
informant.
Such as?
Joshua, I offered hesitantly. Fortunately, he did not laugh at my
suggestion. Emboldened, I also said, Half the men in Haifa.
And if for some reason the British traitor did not inform his master, or if
the master was clever enough to conceal his knowledge from me, what then?
Then it could still be anyone in Haifa. One of the drivers, perhaps the man
who was killed, to cover up his treason? Or anyone privy to communication
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between Joshua and Allenby, or between Joshua and Mycroft, or
As I said, Russell: many thoughts, no conclusions. We haven t sufficient
data.
What, then, do you recommend we do?
Keep well out of sight, keep our ears to the ground, and wait for the
opportunity to trip him up.
What we had been attempting to do all along, I reflected, with no great
success.
We found the farm where we had left the mules; the place looked deserted. If
they ve made off with our things, I m going to commit murder, I said to
Holmes, but when we came into the clearing amongst the tangle of brush and
thorny trees, the noise of the dogs brought an old woman out to investigate.
Her face was heavily veiled though her arms and legs were bare, and the skin
on her arms gathered into a thousand sun-darkened wrinkles before it
disappeared beneath several pounds of silver and gold bangles.
Good day, O my mother, I said to her. We have come for the mules and the&
things, I ended weakly. She nodded, but her eyes had the expectant look of
someone who does not comprehend. Holmes intervened.
My mother, a few days past we left our possessions here with your son. She
nodded. And two days ago some men came here and took two of the mules and
most of the bags. She nodded. Where is the remaining mule?
She nodded.
Holmes and I set out to find our transportation, food, and bedding, followed
by the amiable old woman and half a dozen equally amiable dogs. There were no
out-buildings near the house, but a path led through the bush, and there were
the prints of shod hoofs on it. At the end of the path we found one mule and
two sacks filled with food, blankets, and water, precisely what Ali and
Mahmoud had agreed to leave for us. We loaded up under the watchful eye of the
woman and her dogs, and went back down the path and past the house to the
road. We thanked the woman, and she nodded, then raised her hand with a mighty
clatter and rattle of bangles to wave us good-bye. The dogs began to bark as
soon as we crossed an invisible property line and became strangers once again.
Why do I feel as if I d just robbed a mental deficient? I asked Holmes.
He nodded.
We stopped at the base of the wadi to share a cup of musty water and a handful
of dates. I gazed sourly up the expanse of rough, uphill road that lay between
us and the monastery, and drew a deep breath.
Holmes, I began. It is hot. The humidity is debilitating. We have a minimum
of food, barely enough water, and there is a group of men somewhere out there
who would happily kill us both. It is, in a word, no time for an argument.
What do you propose?
I will beg you, Holmes. I will go on my knees if you wish, but please, as a
favour to me, would you be so good as to let the mule carry you up this hill?
I took care not to add aloud, So I won t have to when you collapse.
Since you put it like that, he said, and to my consternation he actually
climbed on the mule s back behind the rest of the load. And I had thought he
was getting better: such easy acquiescence was a worrying sign.
Once again we were travelling in the direction of Jerusalem, and once again we
were to be turned aside from that goal although this time, I hoped, it would
be only a peaceful and temporary diversion. What could happen to us in a
monastery? The road, however, was a place of vulnerability, particularly with
its antecedents in mind.
Holmes, do you know what road this is?
Russell, if you are about to tell me the story of Joseph and Mary with the
pregnant Virgin perched on the donkey, I warn you, I shall not ride one step
farther.
No, no, I was thinking of something much darker than that, although also from
the Greek Testament. I believe this is the road where the traveller was set
upon by thieves, and rescued by the Good Samaritan after his own people had
passed him by. I paused, and the balmy afternoon suddenly seemed to turn
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chill. Did you look to see that Mahmoud had left us one of the pistols? I
asked in a small voice.
Oh, for pity s sake, Russell, said Holmes, sounding reassuringly vigorous.
This country is wreaking havoc on your already excessive imagination. Do try
to control yourself. And yes, he added, we are in possession of both pistol
and bullets.
We climbed up out of the river Jordan plain on the rough road that followed
the southern side of the precipitous Wadi Qelt. The heavy, damp air made
breathing difficult and a cooling breeze an impossibility, so we sweltered our
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