Broken Sword: The Shadow of the Templars

Chapter 14 of my Broken Sword Novelization

Reviews

Wolfgirl2013: Thanks :)
Boris Yeltsin: Well, we'll see, truth is, the clues uncovered have made things clearer, pointing to two important locations.

Now onto the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Broken Sword or its characters.

Marib

I let out a heavy sigh, trying to compose myself in the blistering Syrian heat. After an uneventful flight I'd found myself in Marib, a relatively small walled village or town in the middle of the wilderness in Syria, just large enough to host an airport. I had to admit, the sweltering temperature aside, it was a relatively lovely looking place. The high walls surrounding it suggested it was once a fortified town, designed to repel attacks. The area I was in appeared to be a large market square with ramshackle stands and owners flogging their wares. Nearest where I was standing was what looked like a junk stand, literally, the items on the stand weren't exactly in the best condition and many were dusty or very old. The stand was being watched by a bored looking boy of maybe twelve, clad in traditional Syrian garb with black hair and eyes. There were three other notable stands with noteworthy merchants by them. Two were directly across from me, on adjacent sides of a square tower like building. One was a fruit merchant, selling some fruits I didn't even recognize, I had to admit they intrigued me and I decided that I might try one of them later. The other man however seemed to be selling what looked like machine parts, useless machine parts at that, that looked like they came from a stripped down printing press. How he made such a business here in the middle of nowhere, I had no idea. The final stand was a kebab stand and an ugly one at that. It was being watched over by a heavily built, grey haired, brown eyes morose looking man, not exactly a great ad for flogging his wares.

There were two other people present in the market square, both of them American Tourists. How did I know, well, embarrassed as I was to admit it, you could spot an American Tourist a mile off. Both of them were rather heavy looking, the man had short brown hair, brown eyes and an amiable smile. The woman had dark red hair, a beauty mark on the left below her lip, brown eyes and was chatting animatedly to the man selling machine parts. They both wore glasses and were dressed for a vacation, although the woman's clothes were decidedly conservative. Smart choice considering where we were, I wondered if such respect for local custom was accidental or deliberate. While I had no direct proof I suspected they were a married couple, the woman appeared to be shopping while the man was sightseeing, taking pictures with his camera. The only other thing of interest in the market square was tucked almost out of sight behind the square building, a beat up old army truck of all things. Shaking my head I spotted some stone steps leading up to what looked to be an old tower. Curious I decided to check it out, I was still stuck looking for leads on Klausner and this lens he was supposed to have found, wondering how it tied in to the manuscript and whatever the Broken Sword was.

Exiting the steps I found myself on a stone walkway which led to a dead end. The only thing here was a large carpet stall under a canopy, with a bearded dark haired, dark eyed Syrian man, with a wide grin. He looked craftier than the offspring of a fox and an insurance agent. I had to admit his collection of wares was impressive and if I'd the time and money I might have bought a couple of rugs from him. Then something caught my eye, it was the carpet or rug or whatever hanging right in the middle of the stall, it was orange in colour with a rather familiar pattern on it.

'I've seen that before, but where…?'

Even more curious now I approached the carpet merchant.

"Hello sir." He greeted me enthusiastically. "Lovely carpets."

He gestured to his wares and I smiled. "I was wondering, could you tell me what that symbol means?"

I pointed to the carpet, the man shook his head.

"Yes, yes, carpets yes."

I sighed, he seemed to only want to talk about his wares. I looked at the design again, tucking my hands in my pockets and then, as I felt my hand touch it, I realized right away why it was familiar. I pulled out the match book I had taken from Khan's room at the Ubu. The pattern on it was exactly the same. When he saw it the carpet seller went wide-eyed.

"Ah, give to me, give to me, Alamut!" He cried.

I started, remembering the name, Club Alamut. I handed him the match book and he pocketed it before looking around carefully. He then pulled back the carpet I had noted to reveal a staircase hidden behind it.

'Okay...is this a trap?' I wondered worriedly.

But with no other leads I made my way up the stairs into the building they led up to.

I entered what looked like a moderately sized room, with two booths along the walls to my left, a bar to my right as I entered with a display of drinks behind the bar, it was a rather low key looking club, the only other door accessible was closed, wooden, just behind the furthest booth on the left, a small sign on it. The wall directly opposite and the right wall was a long L-shaped sofa. Two other unpleasant items that caught my eye was two gold coloured spittoons, both nearly full. Beautiful on the outside, not so much on the inside. Behind the bar was a heavyset bald man with a black toothbrush moustache, black eyes and thick black eyebrows. He was dressed smartly in a desert coloured suit with a red tie and fez. I guessed he was the owner. Seated on a stool by the bar was the only other person in the place. A tall large man with black hair, green eyes and a thick walrus moustache. He wore simple looking clothes, with a similar waistcoat, he also had high light brown boots with upturned toes and a cap upon his head. I stepped up to the bar, about to speak to the owner when suddenly, the other man spoke up.

"Many beneficent greetings my most fortune possible friend."

I turned to him, startled by his sudden words. "Huh, do I know you mister?

"No, no, and again I say, no." He replied. "But sir, do you not not see the mutual good fortune at this meeting?"

I quirked an eyebrow at that. "How frank do you want me to be?"

"You are a traveller, yes?"

"Boy, you must be the world's greatest detective." I quipped sarcastically.

He clearly missed it though. "No, I am told that is Sherlock Holmes of the big forehead and slipper full of shag. I as contrast am world's greatest luxury taxi driver."

"I can see where this is going." I mused.

"I am Ultar, taxi driver and luxury guide per excellent, yes." He introduced himself.

'This I HAD to hear.'

Ultar then began his spiel. "Where does your heart desire to go, simply mention the name to your obedient servant and we shall fly there, swift as the eagle."

"Oh well, I don't really want to leave Marib yet." I replied. "But if I'm sure that if I do, you'll be the first to know."

"Is good." Ultar said with a grin. "You know where you want to go, you come to Ultar."

"Thanks well, see you around Ultar."

He nodded. "Be having a pleasant day full of shining experiences and happiness, my friend."

With that he relaxed against the bar again.

Not wanting to be rude I turned to the owner again. I noted his bonhomie seemed forced, no wonder looking at the club, this wasn't what they meant when they said the joint was jumping. I noted the bottles again and was surprised to see alcohol on open sale in Syria. Then I realized this wasn't really open sale. Then I realized they weren't even alcoholic drinks anyway.

Clearing my throat I spoke to the owner. "Hello, nice club you have here."

He gave some sort of garbled reply, which confused.

"Huh, I beg your pardon, I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Ultar turned to us and spoke up. "No surprise there, alrighty, but he say sorry, but he no speak English."

I turned, confused. "But, he didn't say anything?"

"He not have tongue."

"No tongue, what happened?" I gasped in horror.

Ultar shrugged casually. "It was bet."

I nodded, realizing. "Ah, and he lost."

"He won." Ultar revealed. "You should see other chappie, oh yes."

I bit my lip at that, now I understood why Ultar seemed so comfortable here, he was here regularly, acting as the owners translator. Politely excusing myself I began to look around the club, I approached the closed door, I guessed it was some kind of toilet. While I didn't need to go, I probably felt I should wash my face after all the Syrian heat. But the door wouldn't open, I guessed it was locked. Suddenly I heard the a familiar garbled sound.

I turned to see the owner pointing at me.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Ultar spoke up. "He said you not to go in toilet, read sign, matey."

"Matey?" I queried.

"It lose something in translation." He shrugged.

I turned back to the door and squinted at the sign, it was in Arabic and so I couldn't understand a word of it. With a heavy sigh I made my way back to Ultar.

"Hello again Ultar."

He smiled widely. "Praise be to Allah, I am blessed with your bountiful presence once more."

"What does that sign on the door say?" I asked.

"It say, door stay shut until brush come back, signed the management."

I blinked, surprised. "What does that mean?"

Ultar explained. "Manager buy lovely new toilet brush, leave by wash basin for ten minutes, come back, it been stealen, stolen. Not even out of wrapper, he damn cross. He lock door saying, no one use fine pristine toilet till brush returned. We say, what we do till then? He say, cross legs and use superior willpower."

"And that's what you've been doing?" I asked, incredulous.

"No." He replied. "Ultar use bucket."

I grimaced, so, if I wanted into that bathroom, I needed to find the toilet brush. I then remembered something, I had to be sure, I didn't want another nasty surprise like in Ireland. Reaching into my jacket I pulled out the photograph and showed it to Ultar.

"Have you seen this man before."

Ultar surprisingly nodded. "Oh yes, was here only yesterday."

"Here. Yesterday?" I gasped. "My God he's close."

Suddenly things became a lot more nerve racking. Khan was here, in Syria.

Ultar continued to explain.

"Yes, he was asking lot of questions, just like you."

"What did he asked about?" I queried worriedly.

Ultar thought for a moment. "He ask about American called, Stobbie."

"Stobbart?"

"Yes Stobbart, you know him?" Ultar confirmed.

That filled me with dread, the killer knew my name.

"What...else did he ask about?" I tried to remain calm.

Ultar considered. "He ask about German man called Klobner."

I tried to remember the name of the man the conspiracy had lost in Syria. "Was his name, Klausner?"

"Yes, this is what Ultar said, Klausner." He confirmed. "I tell this man in the picture, Klausner wanted to go to Bulls Head."

"Hold on." I was confused. "He wanted to go where?"

"Bulls Head, big hill, ten miles out of town, maybe sixty." He explained.

I nodded slowly. "How long ago was this?"

Ultar did his best to recall. "Oh, maybe a week ago."

"How do I get there?" I asked before realizing I already knew. "Wait, don't tell me."

"You'll be needing luxury guide with perfect air conditioned taxi."

I jokingly sigh. "Woe is me, where will I find such a guide."

Ultar's grin widened. "And Ultar is best luxury guide with just such taxi for literally many miles around."

"Gee-wilikers, lucky me." I quipped. "Alright, let's get going."

Ultar raised his hand however, confusing me.

He seemed to be running something through in his mind.

"Hold a moment, hmm, a trip to Bulls Head Hill...fifty Yankee dollars please."

"Fifty bucks?" I cried. "I don't have fifty bucks."

"Oh most regrettable affair, most esteemed fare."

I couldn't let this chance slide. "Hold on Ultar, is there something I could barter with?"

"I wish it were so." He remarked. "But my taxi needs gas and it's muffler needs the muffler doctor, bartering for these things is not possible."

I sighed and let the matter go, it was clear that if I wanted to go after Klausner, I'd need to get fifty bucks somehow. I also had the mystery of the missing toilet brush to deal with too. So, I left the club and began making my way back down to the market.

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.