She’d have time enough to learn what they had in store. I didn’t know myself, but I had a pretty fair idea it wasn’t a friendly fireside chat.
“They want to ask us some questions, I think,” I told her. I didn’t elaborate on their methods of asking.
The Rifs had finished watering the horses and gestured for us to mount up. The sun was lower in the sky and the rays less burning as we set off again.
I’d checked to make certain the two tubes of paint were still in my back pocket.
The Rifs had searched me, of course, when I was unconscious and decided the paint was harmless enough. They were my sole weapons at the moment, and they had limited uses.
I decided Marina and I were captive for a while yet, until I could find some moment for a break. I used the word “until” to myself. It was less pessimistic than “unless.”
We rode on, and the hot day finally gave way to the coolness of night as we reached the foothills of the Rif mountain stronghold.
Once more the Rifs paused but only for a few moments at the shores of a
We pushed on, and the terrain changed from the semi-desert flatness to mountain defiles and narrow passes.
Marina was having trouble staying awake and I watched her closely. She was strained, haggard, thoroughly exhausted.
I was feeling it myself, and I was surprised she’d held out this long. Even the motion of the horse no longer served to keep her awake. I saw her eyes close, watched as she began to fall from the saddle and was there to catch her as she toppled.
I reined to a halt and was surrounded by Rifs at once.
“She can’t go on,” I said, holding the girl in my arms.
The tall one spoke brusquely to the others, and Marina was pulled from my arms and flung like a sack of grain across the saddle on her stomach, her head and legs hanging from the sides.
With a few quick turns of rope they lashed her in place, handed the reins of the horse to me, and started off again at the same, hard-driving pace.
Don’t the bastards ever get tired, I wondered. Suddenly the roads were steeper and the progress slower. We had reached Mount Dersa, I was certain.
We’d ridden most of the night, and I scanned the sky for the first hint of approaching dawn. It hadn’t bowed in yet when suddenly, turning a sharp curve in a narrow pass, we came to the dark silhouette of a citadel, two heavy towers at each corner standing guard over a collection of intertwining, connected buildings.
It was the Casbah of El Ahmid, and though he may have built it in recent years it followed the architectural lines of the ancient traditional Casbahs or citadels.
The main entranceway, tall and arched, stood open, protected only by sentries.
We rode through it and halted inside a stone courtyard.
I saw other Rifs on the walls and on the ground platforms of the two towers.
They unstrapped Marina and she slid to the ground, waking up as she did so. She tried to get up but her cramped, aching muscles refused to respond.
Two Rifs yanked her to her feet and started to drag her away.
“In the women’s quarters,” the tall one side. “Tell the eunuchs to guard her.”
He turned to me. “El Ahmid will see you after he awakens and breakfasts,” he said. “Meanwhile, you will have a few hours to think about what will happen to you if you do not cooperate with us.”
“I’ll think carefully,” I said. “That’s a promise.”
I was already thinking as they started to lead me away, only not what they wanted me to think about. I was noting that the wall from the towers was considerably higher than the roofs of the interconnected buildings at the back of the Casbah. I also noticed that the wall didn’t enclose the rear part of the Casbah but only butted up against the structures.
When they led me down a flight of stone steps, I had formed a pretty good mental picture of the outside layout of the place. A barred door swung open, and I was shoved into a dank, stone cell, windowless and barren except for some straw piled in a corner.
“Remind me not to stop here again,” I muttered to the two Rifs.
They looked at me blankly, slammed the door and took up positions at each side of it. They would be standing guard through the remainder of the night. It didn’t matter much because I wasn’t ready to move yet.
The cold, stone floor was hard but at least I could stretch out and flex my aching muscles.
I thought of what the tall one had said about cooperating with him, and I had to laugh, ruefully. I couldn’t cooperate if I wanted to do so. Where Karminian might be hiding was as much a mystery to me as to them. However, I knew I’d never be able to convince them of that.
Instead, I’d try for the brass ring on my own. I’d try to find out what this was all about. They’d tabbed me for an American agent, anyway. I had nothing to lose by trying, nothing except my neck, that is, and I. was used to risking that.
