The Serpent's Daughter (14 page)

“Hmph,” he grunted and moved towards a bucket just outside the door. Jade watched as he dipped a pottery goblet into the bucket and carried it, dripping, back to her.

She prayed he wouldn’t notice that her feet were no longer bound. A quick flutter of her chest distracted him. She licked her lips as though anticipating the water and drew her knees closer to her as if to make room for him to get closer.

The man squatted down in front of her, grinning. Gaps showed among his brown teeth. Jade could see bits of bread and other foodstuffs still stuck in his chin-length beard. Just as he held the cup to her lips, she shot her feet out and hit him square in the chest. The cup flew from his hands and shattered against the wall as he toppled backward. He started to right himself, but Jade kicked again, this time in his gut. The man doubled over in pain, his hands gripping his midsection. That’s when Jade landed a hard right to his chin.

The guard fell to his side, his head hitting the floor as Jade pounced on him. She pulled his curved dagger from his sash and held it to his throat, but the man was stunned, if not already unconscious. Jade knew he wouldn’t be out for long so she changed her grip on his knife and thwacked him hard on the back of the head with its hilt.

That’s one, she thought, as she massaged her sore knuckles, already feeling them swell. She knew she’d have a hard time slipping out unobserved. They’d taken her dark robe, so she needed a new disguise. Quickly she divested the man of his outer robe and slipped it on, tying it at the waist with his sash. Next she took his turban, hoping he didn’t suffer from head lice, and his keys. The robe hung a few inches longer on her slender frame, so she sliced off part of the bottom and used it as a gag on the guard. Finally she retrieved the leather used to bind her feet and tied his hands behind his back, not an easy task with a sore right hand.

“Enjoy the company here,” she muttered to the man as she locked him in her cell.

Inez bounced along on the little donkey, feeling like a sack of potatoes. The shady palm gardens were far behind, and all around her lay rock-festooned flatlands. A few spring flowers bloomed along the route, at least until the donkey stopped and ate them. Inez suffered another jolt as the donkey stumbled. She didn’t know whether to be grateful, vexed, or outright angry and so she oscillated among the three emotions; mostly the first two.

True, she was glad to be out of captivity and knew she owed her freedom to Jade. But where was her daughter now? How exasperating! That girl never thought out the long-range consequences of her words or actions. She just had to stay behind and snoop. And for what? Inez didn’t care about who had captured her. If they’d been after ransom money, they didn’t get it. She just wanted to get away, leave this country, and find refuge in Spain. She couldn’t do that until Jade rejoined her. Instead, she was sitting sideways on some miserable little donkey, her once-good dress in ruins.

Anger flooded through her once again. Couldn’t Jade have found someone who spoke English or Spanish? This Bachir didn’t speak either, so Inez had no way to get answers to her questions, and she had a lot of questions. For one, what was all that nonsense about a murder and someone blaming her? She hadn’t murdered anyone. The ridiculous claim was what kept Jade back at that horrid house. Just where did Jade expect to meet her?

Where was she going, and why wasn’t Bachir going with her? After he had led her on foot to some gate, two other men dressed much like Bachir met him with three donkeys. Bachir had lifted her up onto one of them, thrown a heavy woolen robe about her, and gone back into the city. She’d expected to be taken to some French official’s house or a mission church. Instead she’d found herself riding on in the night across a flat wasteland, and now they were heading up into the snowcapped mountains, using the moonlight to find their path.

Suddenly worry replaced her anger. Maybe this was actually another kidnapping. That Bachir person might have done something to her Jade. That girl seemed to have a knack for associating with the most unsavory people, despite all Inez’s attempts to train her otherwise.

I’m not going a step farther
. Inez tugged on her donkey’s short mane and attempted to turn him around. The man behind her blocked her way and pointed up the trail. Inez kicked the little donkey in the flanks, hoping to spur him on past her captor, but the poor beast just brayed and sat down. Inez tumbled over, rolling to her left and off the donkey’s rump. By now, the lead man had dismounted and run back to assist her. Gently but firmly he raised her, then put her back on the donkey.

The other man said something she didn’t understand and pointed up the mountain trail again. Inez had no intention of complying, but the lead man took care of that problem. He attached a rope of braided grass around her donkey’s neck and took hold of the other end. For a brief moment, Inez considered jumping off and making a run for Marrakech, but decided she wouldn’t get twenty yards before they caught her again. Then they might tie her to the animal. She decided to trust that this was all part of Jade’s plan.

Jade’s exploration had revealed no other person in the house, but she had no idea how long she’d been unconscious. It could be morning, evening, or several days later as far as she knew.

I need to get out of here and get to Mother
. She wasn’t sure she should risk the front door in case someone else was keeping watch. If she could just make it to the central courtyard, she reasoned, she could climb that orange tree and get out onto the roof from the second floor.

She listened for sounds outside the guard’s room, heard none, and opened the door a crack. She was in luck. This was the same room she’d heard the snoring sounds come from just before she was captured. She wasn’t far from the orange tree and freedom.

Because she couldn’t see through the garden foliage to the other side of the courtyard, Jade didn’t venture out immediately. Someone might be sitting out of view on one of the stone benches, and she knew her disguise wouldn’t withstand close scrutiny.
Forget the tree. Just head for the rear
. No one seemed to use the back part of the house and she could always hide there until the coast was clear. She might even be able to stand on something and pull herself up onto the lower of the steps, something her mother hadn’t been able to do.

Mother’s going to have a conniption fit.
She took three steps out of the room, then froze.

“What news?” The words were in unaccented English, and the voice came from near the fountain.

Jade couldn’t return to the guard’s room. If these people decided to check on her, they’d come this way and spot her immediately. She slipped into the next room and eased the door nearly closed, keeping an ear to the crack in an attempt to eavesdrop. Unfortunately the voices, low to begin with, were now almost completely muffled. She thought she caught the word “escaped.”

Good. Mother did get away
. She risked opening the door an inch to hear better.

“… still have … daughter.” It was the first voice again. Something about it sounded familiar. Jade tried unsuccessfully to match it with voices she’d heard at breakfast in Tangier.

The second person spoke English with a strong Arabic accent. “He has arrived.”

“Show him in.”

Jade heard footsteps approaching, stopping. “Is all in readiness?” asked the newest arrival.

Jade’s interest perked up even more. That voice and the Spanish accent definitely sounded familiar, but the thick door made it difficult to hear clearly.

“Not quite.”

Whoever they were, they were coming closer. Jade looked around for a place to hide and was amazed at what she saw. The room was an old bath complete with a large sunken pool, now dry and cracked. Daylight filtered down in an array of colors from a multicolored glass skylight two floors above. Tiles of emerald green, gold, and sapphire graced the walls, while colored light danced on the once white floor. But it was the bright flash of bronze leaf from the red leather pouches stacked high in the corner that caught Jade’s eye. This was the room she’d glimpsed just before being hit.
Was it the bronze I saw before, and not gold?

She had just enough time to snatch one of the pouches before jumping over the side of the dry pool. She slipped the pouch over her head and a shoulder, ran for the water conduit, and backed into it. No sooner had she pulled her head in like a turtle retreating into its shell than she heard the footsteps enter the room.

“As you can see, many of the bags are here, but the rest of them will not be ready for another week.” The voice, English, had the pitch of an Irish tenor, but softer, as though the speaker were hoarse. Jade had to strain to hear from inside the conduit.

“Only a small part has arrived,” continued the nonaccented voice. “These people are intolerably slow. I shall have to have my men encourage the pouch maker to work faster.” There was a brief pause.

“And the other shipment? Has it arrived?”

“No, but then the passes through the Atlas have only recently opened.”

“You should have sent around to the west and up to Essaouira. ”

“Too dangerous now. The damned French watch those old Portuguese ports.”

Jade heard the sound of leather being manhandled, then tossed back onto the pile. “I can wait if the quality of the rest will match this,” said the familiar-sounding man. He had shifted position and his voice came into the pipe more clearly. “It must be perfect. It is becoming dangerous even to do business out of a city as ungoverned as Tangier.”

Sweet Millard Fillmore on a camel, that is Patrido de Portillo. But who is he talking to?
Jade tried to peer out the conduit but all she could see were trousers. There was no way to glimpse the other man’s face unless she stuck her head out of the pipe. She pulled back farther instead. Knowing one of the kidnappers was enough for her.
Wait till I tell Mother. He said he was here to buy leather, but apparently that’s not all he’s taking out of the country. What are they waiting for to come down through the mountains?

“You need not worry. I have taken steps to ensure you will not be harassed,” said the Englishman.

Patrido de Portillo blew out his breath in a cynical, laughing snort. “A bribe, I suppose. The business becomes too expensive with so many officials wanting their cut.”

“Not a bribe,” said the other man. “Something more effective, I think. I do not wish to appear rude, but I’m afraid you have interrupted me in the middle of some important business. I will be in contact with you.”

“Of course,” said de Portillo. “You know where to find me.”

The men left the bathing chamber, shutting the door behind them. Jade squirmed out of the pipe and headed for the door. It would be only a matter of moments before they discovered her escape. She needed to get up that orange tree now. She grabbed the door handle and pulled, but it didn’t budge.
Locked! The bastards have bolted the blasted door.

CHAPTER 11

Women in well-to-do Arabic households are kept in seclusion. Intricate window and
roof screens allow them to see out but not be seen. Except to visit a saint’s shrine, a
hammam
, or to cross the roof to see a neighboring woman, they spend their lives in
their indoor household gardens and harem. Gossiping with the women from a neighboring
house is their only excitement, but it’s hard to imagine what they have to gossip about.

—The Traveler

JADE TOOK A DEEP BREATH AND FOUGHT FOR CALM.
Okay, this room has a glass skylight
. Maybe she could climb up, break the glass, and get onto the roof. She looked for anything to help scale the walls and saw nothing but slick mosaic tiles. There was no way she could reach that ceiling. Could she break down the door? Was there anything to use as a battering ram?
Not without being discovered
.

Then her gaze rested on the dry pool and the water conduit. If she couldn’t go up, maybe she could go out through it. After all, it had once carried water into the building from some outside source. It was wide enough here to fit her, and pipes usually narrowed near the outlet, not closer to their origin. The big question was, just how far did it still go?

Jade removed the turban and pulled off the robe, keeping only the guard’s knife and the leather pouch. She squirmed back into the pipe, this time going headfirst, keeping the knife in front of her.
Better not be any blasted rats, bugs, snakes, or any
of Bachir’s
jinni
in here
. According to him, this was just the type of place those denizens of the underground preferred. Handy creatures, though. It seemed if anything went wrong, just blame it on a
jinn
. Jade wondered if her mother would believe such an excuse.
Sorry, Mother. I was right behind you when this
jinn
grabbed me
. What was she supposed to say if she met one and it tried to give her the old evil eye?
Five in your eye? I’ll give ’em five in the eye
. Only she’d put a fist in their face instead of a flat palm.

The baked clay duct climbed slowly for about fifty feet before it divided at a T-shaped juncture. Jade reached out and felt with both arms. One went up, or at least so it felt to her touch; the other sloped down, presumably to another building also with dry baths. This portion of the city’s princely houses had fallen into disuse and Jade wondered why they’d been abandoned.

She took the upward path, still squirming on her belly through the accumulated debris. It was pitch-black inside, but happily a little bit wider. She still couldn’t rise onto her knees, but at least there was enough room that she didn’t brush the top with her back. Another juncture, another slight rise before the pipe took a turn to her right and leveled off. The debris on the bottom now included substantial chunks of the upper pipe, some still sharp. Jade slowed down before she accidentally sliced her hand on anything.