Leaving her for the moment, I put a hand to the corpse's cheek; the skin was cold to the touch. Even in the dim and flickering lamplight, I could tell the blood had begun to congeal. His murderers had left nothing to chance: hands bound behind him, his throat had been cut to keep his screams from being heard, and he had been stabbed several times in the chest for good measure.
"He has been dead some time," Faysal observed.
"I told him we would come for him," I said, remembering our brief meeting. "He said no one could save him-that it was too late."
Faysal touched my arm and indicated the old woman. I looked and saw that she was clutching a small white packet to her bosom with her free hand. Bending to her once more, I said, "Mother, what have you there?"
Reaching out, I put my hand to the packet. The old woman raised her face, fearful now. "I am an honest woman!" she cried, growing suddenly agitated. "Three years I have worked in this house! Three years! I have never stolen so much as a thread!"
"I believe you," I said. "What do you hold there?"
"I am no thief," she insisted, clutching the packet more tightly. "Ask anyone-ask the governor! He will tell you I am an honest woman."
"Please?" I asked, tugging the packet gently from her.
"I found it," she told me. "It was there," she said, pointing at a pile of clothing folded neatly on the floor. "He left it there for me to find. I swear it! I took nothing! I am no thief."
"Peace, old woman," I said, trying to soothe her. "We make no accusations."
"They try to trick you sometimes," she told me breathlessly. "They leave things for you to find, and then they say you steal them. I am no thief." She shook a finger at the packet in my hand. "I found it. I did not steal it."
Faysal brought the lamp near, and I bent to my examination. "It is parchment," I said, turning it over in the light, "bound with a strip of cloth…and, here-here is the governor's seal." Above the seal, written in a thin, spidery hand were two words: the first was basileus, I could not make out the second. "It may be for the emperor."
Slipping the cloth band from the packet, I made to break the seal. Faysal counselled against it, saying, "I think we should leave before someone finds us."
The old laundress had begun sobbing again. "Three years I have worked for this house!" she moaned. "I am an honest woman. Where will I find another house?"
"Come," Faysal urged, "we can do nothing here."
Stuffing the packet into my belt, I turned to the old woman. "You do not have to stay here. You can come with us if you wish."
She looked at me with her damp eyes, then glanced at the governor's body. "I wash his clothes," she said. "I am an old woman. I will stay with him."
Stepping quickly to the door, Faysal motioned me to follow. I rose slowly. "The danger is past," I said. "I do not think the killers will return. You can get help in the morning." The old woman made no reply, but turned her gaze once more upon the bloodied body lying beside her.
Back down the stairs, through the corridor and into the vestibule, we fled. With trembling hand, I returned the lamp to its stand, and crept to the door. I put my hand to the handle, pulled open the door slightly, and slipped out.
Sayid appeared at once, stepping from the shadows to motion me forward. "Swiftly!" he hissed. "Someone comes."
Glancing to where he pointed, I saw a man ambling towards us; he was, perhaps, thirty paces away. Even as I looked, the man halted. "He has seen us," Faysal said. "Hurry! This way!"
Faysal turned and fled down the street. In the same instant, the man began shouting. "Thieves! Robbers!" he cried, his voice echoing down the empty street. "Help! Thieves! Robbers!"
We ran to the inn where we had left the horses under Nadr's vigilant eye; he passed me the reins to my mount and I swung up into the saddle. "Lead the way," I called. "We are behind you."
At a sign from Faysal, Sayid rode out; I could still hear the fellow crying for help as we clattered back along the deserted street-passing the startled man once more. Despite his cries of robber and thief, the streets remained empty and quiet; save for a skulking dog or two that barked as we passed, Sebastea slept undisturbed.
Upon reaching the north wall, we turned off the main street and continued along a narrow passageway until we came to an unused guard tower, beneath which a small, lean-to hut had been erected beside the low wooden gate. Sayid dismounted before the hut, and slapped the crude door with his hand. A thin weasel of a fellow poked out his head, squinted at the mounted warriors and complained, "I never agreed to so many!"
"Be quiet!" warned Sayid. "Open the gate."
"But you never said there would be so many," the gateman protested, stepping cautiously out of his hut.
"You are well paid for the work of a moment," Sayid said. "Now open the gate."
