SILK AND SECRETS (13 page)

Finally Ross turned his attention to the yards of white muslin intended for his turban. Turbans were vastly practical garments, protecting the head from both sun and cold, absorbing sweat, capable of being drawn over the mouth against dust or sand. And, with grim practicality, there was enough material in one to cover a man’s body completely so that it could be used as his shroud if necessary.

But a turban was a great deal more than practical: it was a statement of tribe and class, of fashion and personality. After careful consideration, Ross decided that an Afghan style would be best. Afghans were often tall, so his height would be less conspicuous. Also, like most Central Asians, Afghans were Sunnis, members of the largest, most orthodox branch of Islam, while most Persians were of the Shüte sect. Outside of their own country, Shütes were often harassed, sometimes even killed, so it would be best not to look like a Persian, for safety lay in being as unobtrusive as possible.

He put on the felt skullcap that Juliet had sent, then folded the length of muslin into rough pleats. It had been several years since he had worn a turban, and then it had been a Hindu style, but his hands remembered the general technique, and after only a couple of false starts he managed to wind and tuck the fabric into a very respectable Afghan turban, complete with a tail hanging down the side of his neck.

Juliet had even supplied a small pouch of surma. Though his lashes and brows were several shades darker than his hair, they were still light by Asian standards, so after applying the surma to his eyelids, Ross carefully rubbed a little into his eyebrows.

Then he surveyed himself as best he could in the small mirror. Not bad, he decided; it was a pity that he didn’t have a full dark beard, but it was now unlikely that anyone would immediately single him out as a ferengi.

As important as altering his appearance, and rather more difficult, was changing his thinking to that of an Oriental rather than an Englishman so that he would not betray himself in subtle ways. He had done that successfully before, in less critical circumstances, so he would be able to do it again.

Next he cut the letters of introduction from the lining of his English coat. Sealed in oiled cloth packets, they were easily sewed into the padded chapan. Then he turned his attention to his European wardrobe, packing some garments to take to Bokhara while leaving more at Serevan.

Finally he was ready to go. Looking at his baggage, he smiled humorlessly. The journey across the Kara Kum would be hazardous, his reception in Bokhara much more so. Yet more difficult by far would be living cheek by jowl with the only woman who had ever had real power over him. Because, God help him, she still did.

The camel lowered its head and brayed malevolently at Ross. Guessing that it was about to spit at him, he sidestepped neatly and muttered under his breath, “I think you’re pretty ugly too.”

A soft chuckle came from behind him. Then, in a voice too low for anyone else to hear, Juliet said, “Actually, as camels go, this one is rather pretty.”

Ross repressed a smile. “And as camels go, this one will.” He handed the reins to Juliet so that she could lead it over to join the others they wanted to buy. In fact, Juliet was quite correct: the camel was rather attractive, if you had a taste for beasts that looked as if they were designed by God on an off day.

The camels of Mongolia and Turkestan were of the two-humped Bactrian variety, and they were shorter, stockier, and shaggier than the single-humped dromedaries found in North Africa and western Asia. Bactrians were perfectly suited to the Central Asian climate, which had wide extremes of both heat and cold, so apparently God at least knew what he was doing when he set the camels in their respective territories.

Having placed the latest selection in Murad’s charge, Juliet returned to help Ross choose the final camel they would need for the journey. The next one they examined was a cranky bull. Juliet expertly kneaded the humps with her hands, then shook her head. “Not enough fat. This one needs to be put out to pasture for several months. Probably wouldn’t survive the trip to Bokhara.”

Ross accepted her judgment. He had had a fair amount of experience with camels, but Juliet had more. In spite of the beasts’ phenomenal endurance, they were in some ways curiously fragile and needed long spells of recovery after hard use. Only the fittest camels could survive the demanding journey across the Kara Kum, and Juliet had already rejected a number of the merchant’s available stock.

The next possibility was a female with a sleek coat and thick, curling black hair along the underside of her throat. She batted her eyes flirtatiously, then swung her head around and belched in his face. For a camel, that counted as good nature.

Cautiously Ross inspected the animal’s broad padded feet while Juliet gauged the camel’s fitness. After a thorough examination of the humps, she said, “This one will do.”

“I like her.” Ross gave the camel a friendly slap on its flank. “I’ll ride her myself and call her Julietta.”

His wife’s eyes flashed evilly through the narrow opening in her veil, but she refrained from comment because the owner of the camels, Mustafa Khan, was approaching.

They had set out from Serevan only about half an hour later than the time Ross had aimed for. Saleh had put aside his brilliantly colored silks for the sober dress of a merchant, and Juliet, in her veil and flowing dark robes, had been thoroughly convincing as a proud, prickly male servant. Murad had been openly curious about his Tuareg companion, but had not dared to venture any comments after his first tentative greeting was met by a cold stare and a single gruff syllable.

Escorted by half a dozen men from Serevan, they had descended from the mountain plateau to the arid plains that rolled endlessly into the distance, and hard riding brought them to Sarakhs before sunset. The unimpressive mud-brick community sat by a shallow, silty river on the edge of the desert. Nominally under Persian control, it consisted of perhaps two thousand families of non-nomadic Turkomans.

Wanting to choose the camels in daylight, Ross had had Juliet take them to the stock dealer as soon as they reached the town. Now, as darkness gathered, Ross sat down with the dealer to drink tea and bargain for the selected beasts. Bargaining was both art and entertainment in the East, and Mustafa Khan started the process with relish, demanding an outrageous amount.

Ross could have afforded what was asked, but spending too much might attract dangerous attention, and would certainly have proved that he was not Oriental. He countered with an offer a fifth of the asking price, then watched with deep appreciation while Mustafa Khan moaned, his eyes screwing shut with misery and his black mustaches drooping.

The Turkoman merchant pointed out that honored Khilburn had selected the finest beasts on the lot. Then, after speaking eloquently of his love for the camels, of how they were like his own beloved children and he offered them for sale only as a service for travelers like his noble visitor, Mustafa Khan lowered his price by ten percent.

Years of experience in the bazaars of Asia and Africa had given Ross a very respectable skill at bargaining, so he countered with a lengthy diatribe on the camels’ flaws: the weakness of their muscles, the poorness of their condition, the probability that they would drop dead before they reached the middle of the Kara Kum. While it would surely be in his best interest to purchase his camels elsewhere, the affection and esteem that had instantly sprung to life on meeting Mustafa Khan led him to offer much more than the mangy beasts were worth.

When Ross named a new figure, the merchant clutched his heart and murmured that honored Khilburn wanted to orphan and beggar Mustafa Khan’s children, then lowered his price again. And so it went, most pleasurably, through two hours and six tiny cups each of tea, while the other members of Ross’s party took their ease with Eastern patience. Except for Juliet, who paced restlessly about the yard, looking dark and dangerous.

Twice Ross got up and started to leave, Saleh, Murad, and Juliet right behind him. The second time they actually reached the street before Mustafa Khan overtook them with a new offer.

Finally a deal was struck that included five camels, two pack saddles, and several other pieces of equipment that they would need. After mournfully announcing that the final price had ruined him, the merchant gave Ross cheerful directions to the caravansary where the rest of the caravan was spending the night.

In her guise of Jalal, Juliet had the job of chief camel driver, so she took charge of saddling and loading the two animals that would carry their supplies. After the first camel was saddled, she tightened the girth twice, then couched it—that is, made the beast kneel so that it could be loaded. Couching was invariably a strenuous procedure. First Juliet twisted her fingers in the long hair under the camel’s throat. Then she pulled on throat hair and nose rope, at the same time kicking the beast on the shin. It bawled a complaint but sank to its knees as Ross watched with amusement. With a horse, such treatment would be considered abuse; with a camel, rough handling was necessary just to get the animal’s attention.

When Ross brought over an armful of baggage to be loaded, he asked under his breath, “How did I do with the bargaining?”

“You paid a few dinars more than I would have,” Juliet said, dodging back as the camel swung its head around and bared an impressive set of molars, “but it was a creditable showing against an old bandit like Mustafa Khan.”

Ross grinned and went to saddle and couch the other pack camel. He and Juliet really should be more careful about these
sub rosa
exchanges; neither of them seemed able to resist the temptation to exchange thoughts and irreverent comments. It was unlikely that anyone else would understand, for they spoke in Tamahak with English words filling in when no Tuareg term existed, but it was still unwise to behave with such familiarity.

Their departure from Mustafa Khan’s yard was delayed when the second pack camel managed to shed its load while lurching to its feet. Unsurprised, Ross sighed and started over on the tedious business of couching and packing. Since almost the only intelligence camels snowed was for throwing their cargo, loading them required skill, and Ross had not done it in sevefal years. In a few days he would have the knack again.

With Juliet’s wordless help they successfully repacked and set off for the caravansary, leading their camels since the distance was short and the streets became progressively busier as they approached their destination. Having a caravan in town meant that all the peddlers and bazaar stalls were active, hoping to do more business before the travelers moved on.

Boisterous talk and laughter echoed through the narrow alleys, and here and there a fluttering torch illuminated faces in the teeming crowd. It was a society of men, for the few women present were veiled so thoroughly as to be almost invisible. Merchants and potential customers bargained, storytellers spoke to rapt audiences, scribes wrote letters for the illiterate, odors of food, unwashed bodies, spices, and dung filled the air, and twisting around all the rest was the acrid bite of smoke as peddlers roasted kebabs over tiny fires. Even with his eyes closed, Ross would have known instantly that he was in Central Asia.

Though Ross’s height and beardlessness attracted a few glances, he was glad to see that no one was unduly interested in him. With her veil and sweeping dark robes, Juliet drew more attention, but it was simple curiosity rather than suspicion or hostility. Men traveled thousands of miles from their native lands along the great caravan routes of Asia and Africa, so “Jalal” was just another exotic visitor. Taller than most of the men around her and walking with perfect masculine swagger, she seemed entirely at home in her surroundings. If Ross had seen her in a Tuareg camp in the Sahara, he would never have guessed her identity.

Once they set out on the trail, the rations would be Spartan, so Ross decided that they would eat well tonight. As they worked their way through the crowd, he purchased skewers of sizzling roast mutton from a kebab seller, then added fresh bread from a baker and pastries from a confectioner. Murad carried the food, along with a small bag of charcoal for a fire.

Caravansaries were hotels for both men and beasts and were found along all the caravan routes from the Atlantic to China. When Ross and his party entered the caravansary through the high gates, they found that this one was laid out in typical fashion, with small rooms for visitors and stables for the beasts all opening onto the large central courtyard.

Because the caravansary was full, animals were bedded down in the open and numerous small fires burned in the courtyard, both for cooking and for warmth against the chilly night. With human voices and animal complaints bouncing from the mud-brick walls, the caravansary was a noisy place. Travelers sipped tea and exchanged news around the fires while peddlers wandered through the yard, seeking customers for their wares. At least a dozen languages and races could be discerned, including turbaned Hindus, a group of Chinese with long black queues dangling down their backs, and Arabs with white head-scarves tied in place with black camel-hair cords.

A lantern hung above the door to the innkeeper’s office, and Saleh went in to book their lodging for the night. Fortunately there was space available and they were assigned a cubicle in the farthest corner of the building. After they had moved their baggage into the small room, Murad started building a fire, Juliet began bedding down the camels, and Ross and Saleh set off to find the kafila-bashi, the leader of the caravan.

As they worked their way through the crowded court, Ross admitted to himself that Juliet had been right to warn him to restrain his chivalrous instincts. It was difficult for him to stand by and watch her do heavy physical labor. Rationally, he knew his reaction was nonsense; if he had not known Juliet was a woman, he never would have questioned her competence at wrestling with camels and their loads. She was taller than either Murad or Saleh and, though lighter in build, was probably as strong as either of the men. Nonetheless, old habits die hard, and it was an effort for Ross to treat her the same as he would a man.