Chapter Six: Let the Games Begin

The first rays of dawn peeked through the sheer curtains of Erik's chamber windows, casting a soft light into the room. Erik took a sip of his tea, savoring the moments before the day began. He was, at least temporarily, back in his own world where he answered to no one.

But the rest of the world was not so very far away--at the other end of the room, asleep on the divan, was Captain de Chagny. He was still quite pale, though his breathing was deep and even. Erik had taken the precaution of giving him a dose of laudanum for the pain the night before--and also to keep the man unconscious, so that he would not move and do himself further harm.

The knife wound hadn't been as deep as he'd first thought. The captain had been fortunate that the blade had missed his vital organs. The damage wasn't extensive, but it would hurt quite a bit for awhile.

Erik was not worried about the captain's health. He was worried about what would happen once he woke up. There would be awkward questions. Not awkward for the captain, but for him. How could he begin to answer them, in a way that Chagny could possibly comprehend?

He would like to simply dismiss the issue, but there was a good chance it would come up again. There might be a way of buying some time, however...if only he could think of it!

Chagny had come to his defense last night. It was irksome, and no doubt motivated by the man's curiosity, but the fact that he had sustained injury during the melee could not be brushed off lightly. He hardly owed the captain his life, but refusing point-blank would have been unforgivably rude. Though he preferred to live outside society's rules, Erik could still behave in a civilized manner when he chose.

And then there was the mark...what had Chagny done to earn a death sentence? It might have been a mistake, as Nadir supposed. But if not...well, the man had best not make the mistake of getting caught twice. Erik had no time for that.

It did, however, raise questions about Sebastien de Chagny. He was not an ordinary mercenary, that much had been plain from the start. His surname and manner, for one. But there was obviously something else, something darker, in the man's past. And Erik would discover it, one way or the other.

His eyes flickered to Chagny's prone form. The man's chest rose and fell with each deep, even breath, unaware that he was being observed.

And so he watched--and waited.

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The first thing he was aware of upon waking was the bright sunlight streaming in from the balcony doors. In his dazed state, Sebastien was aware that he was lying on a cushioned divan, covered from the waist down with a blanket. His shirt hung in tatters, and his wound was neatly bandaged. He felt incredibly fatigued, as though he had slept a hundred years and found that he was still tired. Added to that, all of his limbs felt as though they were made of lead.

For one panicked moment, Sebastien couldn't remember where he was. Then the events of the previous night came flooding back to him, and he closed his eyes. He must have drifted off again, because the second time his eyes opened, Erik was leaning over him. He gave a violent start, but Erik took little notice.

"Well, I see you've finally come to," he remarked. "I gave you some laudanum the previous night, to keep you from moving about and damaging that wound further."

Sebastien blinked, trying to clear his head. "Sorry about the rug."

"What?"

"Last night," Sebastien explained. "I bled on your rug, and I rather remember your being annoyed about it."

Erik shrugged. "The stain came out eventually. Don't think of it now."

Odd, but it seemed as though Erik were trying to reassure Sebastien. With his white mask and stark black clothing, Erik looked out of place in this bright, sunny room. At this point, he should have realized that with Erik, one never quite knew what to expect.

"Is Nadir all right?" He asked, desperate for something reasonably intelligent to say. How much laudanum had Erik given him? He felt like sleeping for a month.

"He's fine," Erik responded. "I imagine he'll visit later today, and you can see for yourself."

The mention of 'later' caught Sebastien's attention. He sat up in a flash, trying not to wince at the pain as his wound protested. "What time is it? What day is it? I've got to get back to the ship--"

Without a word, Erik took hold of Sebastien's shoulders, and pushed him back down on the divan.

"Ten o'clock in the morning, Tuesday, and a messenger has been sent to your ship, so they know where you are. There are the answers to your questions, even the ones you haven't asked yet. And don't try to stand, or even sit up until I tell you otherwise. That wound will heal, but if you damage it further it will take considerably longer."

Sebastien grinned in spite of himself. "I see. I'll try not to be too much of a burden, then."

"I must ask this---how did you acquire that injury? I didn't see how it happened; I only saw you fall." Erik said, his tone uncharacteristically polite.

Sebastien sighed. "My own foolishness, I'm afraid. I thought I'd dispatched one of the assassins, and I turned to see how Nadir was doing. I heard someone behind me, and turned, and before I knew it, I was wearing his knife."

Erik snorted. "Rather careless of you, wasn't it? Is that what got you branded?"

The memory was still vivid--the smell of dirt and sweat, the struggle, being held down by two of the prison guards, while a third shoved a red-hot poker into the back of his neck. He'd screamed, to the amusement of his tormentors. The terrified, hushed crowd of his fellow prisoners looked on with mixed horror, pity and contempt.

The last thing he wanted was to remember, but it was this memory that haunted his nightmares and occasionally still intruded on his thoughts during the day.

"That is none of your concern," Sebastien snapped, overlaying his fear of being discovered with a healthy layer of contempt. "I'm a mercenary. Isn't that why you hired me? Or did you have some delusion that I was a saint?"

"If anyone is deluding themselves in this room, it is not me," Erik retorted.

He couldn't control it. The words burst forth from his mouth before he could stop them, like a flood demolishing a bridge.

"Maybe I killed someone. Doesn't that frighten you terribly? Or can your high-minded morals not comprehend the idea?"

"Be careful what you say, Captain," Erik said icily. "You are still in my care, and effectively at my mercy. Remember that before you speak."

His tone illustrated what Erik had made plain from the beginning--that Sebastien was dispensable, and Erik would not hesitate to get rid of him if he became a liability.

It wasn't pleasant, but Sebastien had learned to expect it during his time as a mercenary. Besides, at this point, he really wasn't capable of giving much of a physical fight. Though his head felt considerably clearer, Sebastien was not at full strength.

"It's a long story," he said at last. "But while we're asking questions, why were you in the princess' quarters last night? You frightened her, you know! And she said—"

Erik's voice was oddly flat when he spoke. "Yes? What did she say?"

"She said that you...aided in the death of her husband, or something like that. She wasn't too coherent at that point. But if that's true, why would you wish for her rescue?"

"Because," Erik replied, "Her mother and brother are my enemies, and I wish to humiliate them."

"At the risk of your own life?" Sebastien asked in disbelief. Erik had not seemed like the altruistic type to him, but this wasn't quite the answer he was expecting.

Erik made a noise of dissent. "I'd give a good deal more than that to see the khanum and the shah put in their respective places."

It seemed to Sebastien that there had to be more, that Erik was leaving something out. He hardly expected total honesty, but all the same...

He was suddenly aware of Erik's yellow eyes scrutinizing him closely, and it made him highly uncomfortable.

"And you, Captain...who are you?" Erik asked.

"Sebastien Raoul Albert de Chagny," Sebastien replied, trying to sound as casual as possible. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Erik folded his arms, and Sebastien allowed himself a wry smile. "Well, it was a rather broad question."

"Captain..."

"I killed a man while imprisoned in Turkey," Sebastien replied matter-of-factly.

"But you escaped," Erik remarked.

Sebastien snorted. "An educated guess, to be sure."

Words alone couldn't bring back the feeling of intense heat from the sun on his back, or the crack of the whip and the flow of blood. His own, and that of his crew. Not all of the original crew had survived.

'How did you escape?"

Sebastien blinked. "Why did you help to kill Princess Pareesa's husband?"

He looked Erik directly in the eye this time, an unquestioned challenge. There were still many unanswered questions on both sides, after all. And after that hell of a prison, the experience of being treated as lower than dirt, he would never accept treatment like that again. He would look down to no one--especially not Erik.

For his part, Erik merely glanced away. That came as a surprise to Sebastien; he had expected further argument or sarcastic remarks.

When Erik finally did speak, the suddenness of it nearly made Sebastien jump.

"You ought to eat something. We can't have you swooning again,after all."

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Nadir had been investigating all morning, and well into the afternoon. His footsteps echoed in the tiled corridor leading to Erik's apartments.

And all, he thought over the noise of his rumbling stomach, for naught. Less than naught.

The junior ministers, diplomats, and petty princelings were all either too afraid of Erik or too stupid to attempt to have him killed, at least not while he was under the shah's protection. Which, for the moment, Erik still was.

The khanum...it was possible, but certainly not likely. Her methods would be far more cunning than a group of cutthroats attacking a man in a dark alley, and she would want to see him suffer. Nadir was well acquainted with the woman's lust for human suffering. And the shah would not have to resort to such underhanded methods to finish Erik off. He could simply order Erik's arrest and execution, if he so desired. He would want to make an example of Erik.

Nadir still had a good deal of searching to do, but he had to find the information as soon as possible. Erik was strong, but even he could not fight off multitudes of assassins. The vision of his friend cornered and nearly beaten would remain with him for a very long time. Erik always seemed practically invincible, at least physically...but there were simply too many men to fight off.

Erik was hardly an angel, but he did not deserve to die like a common criminal. Or worse, like a cornered animal. And to those assassins, a virtual pack of ravening wolves...that was precisely what Erik was. Nadir knew he could not allow that to happen again.

He knocked twice on the door, and then tapped it lightly--their code. Hearing no answer, he pushed the door open.

Captain de Chagny was sitting up on the divan, looking rather pale, but otherwise fine. He was reading a book, which he put down as soon as he saw Nadir.

A tawny-colored cat with a bandage over one eye was curled up at Sebastien's feet, occupying a patch of sunlight. The cat glanced at him briefly, then closed its eyes once more, deciding that he was uninteresting.

It was just as well. Nadir never had taken well to cats, nor they to him.

"I'm glad to see you awake," he said at last. The Captain smiled.

"I'm glad to see me awake, too," he replied wryly. "Erik's quite the healer, isn't he?"

"Where is he?" Nadir asked.

"He was summoned by the khanum," Chagny responded. "You just missed him; he left about twenty minutes ago. Did you discover anything of interest?"

"Nothing but the elimination of a few suspects," Nadir sighed. "Not much of an improvement, I grant you, but better than nothing. The new vizier or his son are the only ones who might have a motive. Erik has publicly humiliated both at least once, and Lord Ahmad is not as foolish as one might think--if he thought Erik was behind the abduction of his wife, then he wouldn't dare strike in a manner that would reveal his hand. He would risk losing the shah's favor."

"The way you talked, Erik was close to losing that anyway," Sebastien replied, his brow furrowing.

"Yes, but he still has the protection of the shah--at least until his new palace is complete," Nadir informed him.

"The men that attacked Erik weren't hired assassins," Sebastien began thoughtfully. "I've known rather a lot of them...if I didn't know better, I'd think there was a price on his head. If they were hired, they would have been working together."

"Then they were mercenaries?" Nadir asked. "I thought so, too. Did you know any of them?"

Sebastien rolled his eyes. "Of course not! Even if I did, it would hardly be a deep and meaningful friendship. Those kind of men don't care about things like that."

"Men like you, Captain?"

Chagny froze, looking up at Nadir. Finally, he blew out his breath, sending strands of blond hair flying upward.

"So you know, too?" He asked wearily. "Is there anyone in this blasted country who doesn't know, Nadir?"

"Presumably the princess and Sadira do not," Nadir pointed out. "I found the brand mark last night, when Erik and I tended to you."

"Hellfire," came the reply. Chagny's blue-green eyes met Nadir's deep green ones. "I suppose you want to know what happened? And then you'll tell Erik, I expect. He asked, too, you know. I didn't tell him. Not the whole story, anyway."

"Why not?"

"Knowledge is power," the Captain said. "And I didn't want him to have that kind of power over me."

Nadir understood, but could not keep the worry from his voice. "You should not antaganize him."

"I'm not afraid of him!" Sebastien exploded. "After seeing some of the things men do to one another, I'll never show any man fear again!"

The force of his tone left no doubt of the sincerity of his emotions. Captain de Chagny meant every syllable of what he had said. All the same, Nadir did worry. Erik's temper was notoriously short. But Sebastien was the kind of man who would put his head directly into the lion's mouth, just for the fun of it. Nadir had known many men like that, and none had lasted long in the treacherous courts of Persia.

"Just exercise a little caution and sense," Nadir warned. "That is all I ask."

Sebastien sighed. "All right. I'll try."

"And let me add," Nadir continued, "That anything you tell me will remain in the strictest confidence. I am not obligated to tell him everything, you know." He couldn't hold back a slight smile.

Sebastien rose his eyebrows. "Always thought you were a wily one. But why do you want to know about me?"

Nadir shrugged his shoulders. "You are a rare man, Captain. I wish only to know what you could have done to earn yourself a death sentence."

"I killed someone," Sebastien said after a long pause. "My crew and I were imprisoned in Turkey for almost two years, on a smuggling charge. My first mate had decided to earn a little extra on the side, and conveniently forgot to mention it to the rest of us. He killed himself, and so the police had to settle for us as the scapegoats. We were charged with piracy, and would probably still be serving time there...but I killed one of the guards in a senseless fight. So I was branded and sentenced to death."

"And then...?"

"Then, there was a riot that night. Half the guards were killed or injured, and the prisoners made a run for it. Some of them joined up with my crew. After that...the piracy charge that had been false became a reality. We had to make a living somehow, after all. And it's difficult to go back, once you've started something like that."

"Do you have any family, Captain?" Nadir asked.

"Oh, yes," Sebastien replied, his expression becoming difficult to read. It was as though he were trying not to remember. "They are...they are of the aristocracy. Yet another reason to avoid going home. I doubt they'd approve of my new career."

Nadir found himself returning the other man's sardonic smile. He, too, had grown up in an aristocratic family. The cultures were different, but the pressures were the same. Marry well, keep on your toes, and don't offend anyone. Was it any wonder that Sebastien was not eager to go back?

"Pull up a chair," Sebastien invited, shifting his legs and displacing the cat resting at his feet, much to the annoyance of that feline, who promptly voiced his displeasure. "God knows Pirate here isn't much for conversation."

"Pirate?" Nadir repeated in disbelief. "That's his name?"

Sebastien grinned. "Named him myself. Erik gave me full permission, I assure you. Would you like a game of chess or something while we wait? I think Erik will be gone for awhile."

Nadir sighed, with a trace of weary humor."All right."

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Shaheen Khanum blew a perfect ring of smoke from her pipe, and returned her gaze to the masked countenance before her. Erik was rarely uncomposed in her presence—in fact, Shaheen would have gone so far as to say that he was bored. Even her summons did not seem to distress him in the least. Nor the rumors that it was he who had instrumented Pareesa's kidnapping.

"My son-in-law is quite distressed," she remarked. "But the shah will hear none of it, for which you must surely be thankful. The accusation of abucting a member of the royal family is not to be taken lightly, be it true or false."

"Indeed not," Erik replied noncommittedly. "And, if such an accuasation exists, one must suspect that it is being done to divert attention away from any...unpleasantness...between your esteemed family and your daughter's new in-laws."

What could Erik possibly know of that? Shaheen tried to maintain her composure. The new vizier was a fool with a remarkable sense of self-preservation. Surely he couldn't have abducted Pareesa? And if Lord Ahmad had, then he was a brilliant actor.

Shaheen had learned to obey her instincts, and they told her that Erik was no longer to be trusted. A pity. He had amused her so, and she had dreamed of possessing him...his body, at any rate. So tense and lithe, and yet skeletal and fragile at the same time. It would be like dancing with a deadly cobra.

But her son insisted that Erik be kept alive. The boy was determined to have his palace finished, one way or the other. And Shaheen was concerned it would cost the dignity of the family, assuming there was any of that left.

"I have spoken with my son," she said at last. "And he says that you are innocent until he decides otherwise."

If the boy had said, 'innocent until proven guilty', Shaheen would have thought he had taken leave of his senses—or been possessed by the late Mirza Taqui Khan.

"You may go," Shaheen said, waving one bejeweled hand. "But be careful, Erik."

It was not a gentle warning, but a subtle threat. And unless Erik was a fool, he would take the hint.

He nodded very slightly. "Yes, madame."

What had she expected? Erik would never beg for her help, or even ask for it. He was no fool, and only a fool would have suggested his guilt. Shaheen was not so much interested that her daughter had been abducted...she was far more intrigued at the reason why. It was as hidden to her as Erik's face behind his mask.

As he left, Shaheen set her opium pipe down. That was enough for one day.

Be warned, Erik. My patience wears thin.

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Fighting the intense need to put his fist through a wall, Erik stalked through the corridor leaving the harem, taking no pains to soften his footfall. Let the little maggots flee in terror.

Shaheen Khanum's attempt to instill fear in him was laughable at best, and they both knew it. Rather like his own attempts to intimidate Captain de Chagny. Still, the khanum had the shah's ear...and eventually, her words would have influence. And she was clearly growing dissatisfied with him.

His own life was not the only one at risk, however. The princess, Nadir, the Captain and his crew, and Sadira...they all depended on him. It was a strange feeling, and not one he was at all used to. Erik's relationship with these four people—the most he had ever interacted with at one time—was the strangest part of this whole scheme. And though he had taken great care to foresee all possible mishaps, that one had eluded him. He didn't think that he would care.

But he did, and that was what made him so angry. He cared whether they lived or died.

And they will not die. Not while there is breath in my body.

Which, if one were to be honest, might not be all that long.

Once he had left the latticed windows of the harem behind, he strolled past the throne room, vaguely wondering if the shah were anywhere about...he had been contemplating taking the emerald at the head of the throne, and if the shah was not there...

He froze in place, flattening himself against the wall, safely shrouded by a large potted plant. The shah was there, with Lord Ahmad. It would not do for either one of them to see him.

"You're telling me that there has been no progress?" Ahmad asked incredulously, as close to outright rudeness as he dared.

"I have told you before," Nasir Shah replied. "We are examining all possibilities. Leaving no stone unturned, as the saying goes. And the daroga says that Pareesa has been spotted in many locations."

Erik smiled beneath his mask. Nadir was clever, though he rarely was acknowledged for it.

"Then he's lying, Your Highness," Ahmad replied. "Presumably to protect Erik!"

"Even if that is so," Nasir commented, "I have use for Erik yet. When the palace is finished...then justice will be served, make no mistake of that. Audience concluded."

With that, the shah swept out of the throne room, not even seeing Erik as he passed.

Ahmad was still there, fuming. When another man entered the room, Erik first assumed it was the shah...but though the man was well-dressed, he was otherwise a complete stranger.

"My lord," he said, addressing Ahmad.

"You aren't supposed to be here!" Ahmad hissed. "What do you want?"

"The attempt failed, my lord."

"That I know!" Ahmad snapped. "I did not need for you to come all the way here to tell me that!"

"Would you care to know why?"

"I suppose you'll tell me anyway?" Ahmad guessed cynically.

"Two men came to his defense...one was a European, the other was the daroga himself."

"That is hardly a surprise," Ahmad replied. "Since the daroga is more or less his bodyguard."

Erik fumed silently, irritated beyond all measure at the idea of his having a bodyguard, or even needing one.

"But the foreigner...no one seems to know much about him," the other man continued. "Shall we try again?"

"Not yet," Ahmad said after a moment's pause. "Not until we know more about our new adversary. I want him dead, of course, or at least incapacitated. Destroying one such as....him, is complex enough without adding to the problem."

"Naturally," the other man replied. "Then we wait?"

"Yes, wait until tomorrow night, but do not get caught I will not answer for your actions, is that clear?"

"Yes, my lord."

"I want my bride back," Ahmad said slowly. "The one who stole her will not live much longer."

Erik's fists clenched. That's what you think, you puffed-up little peacock! It would be so easy to rush in, to kill both of them...

But he did not. He stayed quietly where he was, barely even breathing.

"Of course, my lord," the other man responded. "Good day, sir."

"Good day."

Erik nearly groaned aloud. Of course Ahmad had been behind the botched assassination attempt! How dense could he have been not to see it right away? And he would try again, he had said as much. Though he was sure of his own ability to take care of himself, he did not wish for Nadir, or even Captain de Chagny to be injured defending him. To say nothing of endangering the princess, or Sadira—neither of whom, presumably, could fight.

It looked as though his little road trip was going to happen sooner than he had intended. The sooner the royal family was reunited and out of the country, the better. He would have to leave as soon as possible. There would be a day to fight, but it was not now.

At the moment, Erik had more important things to worry about.

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"Checkmate," Nadir said, a triumphant smile on his face.

Sebastien sighed, accepting defeat more or less gracefully. He should have known that someone like Nadir, who was an expert in dealing with Erik (and living to tell the tale) would be a good chess player as well. Both, after all, involved careful maneuvering. It was a level of subtlety that Sebastien himself had yet to master.

"What's taking Erik so long, anyway?" Sebastien asked, shifting position on the divan. He was not used to spending long periods of time in one place. Pirate, who had been prowling around Nadir's feet during the chess game, meowed in agreement, and promptly rubbed himself against the daroga's ankles.

"I don't know," Nadir replied, trying to disengage the cat, and not having much luck. "I imagine the khanum is detaining him."

Sebastien shrugged, and winced from the pain it caused. He'd forgotten that he was still somewhat bruised from the fight. "I don't know Erik as you do, but I can't imagine anyone detaining him if he doesn't want to be detained."

"Quite right, Captain," came Erik's voice from the doorway.

Nadir jumped, then rolled his eyes. "Must you make such theatrical entrances all the time?"

Sebastien had to admit, Erik did look rather theatrical, standing in the doorway with his cloak billowing around him. He couldn't help but smile.

"Does something amuse you?" Erik asked, taking note of Sebastien's expression.

"Not at all," Sebastien lied.

"We must leave as soon as possible," Erik said abruptly. "As soon as the sun sets, Captain, we shall take you back to your ship."

"Naturally. That was the plan, wasn't it?"

Erik proceeded as though Sebastien had not spoken. "And shortly after, Sadira and I must leave for Ashraf."

"What?" Nadir and Sebastien asked in one voice.

"I heard Lord Ahmad talking with one of his associates," Erik said, regarding their surprise with his usual haughty detachment. "It would seem that it was he who was behind the assassination attempt last night. There will be another tomorrow, which is why I must be absent."

"Surely you aren't afraid of them," Sebastien said, and Erik gave him a look that would have stopped a lion in its tracks, skinned it, and made it into a rug.

"Of course not," he snapped. "But they are an unnecessary inconvenience at this time. When they come for me, Sadira and I will be gone."

"Erik, use your head!" Sebastien exploded, standing up—and immediately wishing he hadn't. The pain from his wound was almost blinding. It almost made him forget that he had simply used Erik's name, instead of the polite, deferential form of address he normally employed. "What happens if they come after you on the road? With Sadira, who, I might point out, is hardly a match for an assassin!"

"She will not need to be," Erik replied smoothly. "I have ways of avoiding humans...it is something of a specialty for me."

"I believe it," Sebastien muttered under his breath.

"What was that, Captain?"

"Nothing," he replied, feigning innocence.

Erik ignored him. "Then we shall leave at sundown. Captain, you can't go around in your present state...I'd best find you something a bit less...ventilated."

Looking down at his tattered shirt, Sebastien was inclined to agree. He looked like a wounded scarecrow. He raised an eyebrow at Erik.

"Do you own anything other than black?"

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Pareesa stirred in her sleep. Sadira, who was sitting beside her on a pile of blankets, watched silently. Earlier in the day, the princess had been sitting up. And it had been a full half an hour before she asked for opium.

The poison was leaving her lady's body, slowly but surely. All that mattered now was making sure that Pareesa regained her will to live as well as her health.

And in the meantime, Sadira had to keep control of herself. She was worried about Captain de Chagny, though a messenger had come to the ship to let them know he was safe.

But something had happened. She wasn't sure if it was simply woman's intuition, or just the knowledge that Erik, Nadir and the Captain all managed to find their share of trouble in one form or another.

Sometimes she desperately wished for the freedom—or, more importantly, the confidence, to be able to actively stand up for her mistress. She wanted to be fearless, like Erik. He certainly wouldn't quake in terror at the thought of the khanum's wrath, the way Sadira did. To her, the khanum was like a distant, looming shadow of evil, constantly threatening to pounce.

How can I be strong for my lady when I'm terrified at the thought of her mother? Fear welled up in her throat, filling her mouth with a bitter taste.

Quickly, Sadira went to the table, where a pitcher of water had been set. Pouring some into a cup, she drank deeply. She had to calm down. There were two children who needed her help. That was all there was to it. Anyhow, this was no time to fall apart.

Rocking back and forth on her heels, narrowly avoiding a spill, she watched Pareesa sleep peacefully. For once, her mistress seemed to be free of the nightmares about Mirza Taqui Khan, and Lord Ahmad.

Glancing out of the porthole, she saw that night had fallen. It astounded her that a whole day had gone by, and she had scarcely noticed.

A knock on the door sounded, and Sadira jumped in surprise. She managed not to drop the cup of water, but still managed to soak the front of her gown. Wringing out the fabric, she opened the door a crack.

"The Captain is back, and the others are with him" Raphael said, peering at her curiously through open door. "He would like to see you in his cabin, as soon as possible."

"All right," Sadira replied. Raphael hadn't looked overly worried, so Sebastien must be alive and healthy. "Just let me change, and I'll come right away."

It didn't take long for her to change, and leave with Raphael. Pareesa sighed in her sleep, but showed no sign of waking.

When Sadira entered Sebastien's cabin, she was relieved to see him seated on a chair, looking tired and bruised, but otherwise fine. Nadir looked as though he had also sustained his share of blows. Only Erik seemed to be unhurt...or at least, Sadira could not see it if he had.

Erik did not turn from the porthole, gazing out of it as he spoke. "Close the door, Sadira."

She closed the door. "What happened? You look like you were all in a fight."

"What? Of course not," Sebastien said, standing up—and instantly doubling over in his chair.

"I told you not to do that, you damned fool!" Erik exclaimed, rounding on Sebastien like an angry tiger.

"And I told you—" Sebastien started to retort, but Nadir broke in.

"Yes, we were in a fight. It's really not a very interesting story..."

Sadira was rapidly losing patience. What was it about men that made them so reluctant to disclose anything unpleasant to women?

"Please, this is no time for chivalry," Sadira said, politely but as firmly as she dared. "I want to know what happened."

Both Sebastien and Nadir glanced at Erik, who sighed. "Very well. Last night, I was waylaid by a group of assassins. Captain de Chagny and Nadir came and helped to fight them off—in the process, one of them injured Captain de Chagny, which is why I advised him not to move too much."

"Oh," was all Sadira could say. "But you're all right, Captain?"

"Yes, as long as I follow the doctor's orders—when I remember," Sebastien replied with a wink. Erik rolled his eyes.

"There is, unfortunately, more," Nadir said, fixing his gaze on her. "We have learned that the assassins came from Lord Ahmad. He believes Erik responsible for Princess Pareesa's abduction. I really can't think why..."

She bit back a hysterical giggle. The situation was far too serious to laugh, and even a smile seemed inappropriate.

"The point, Sadira," Erik said, "Is that now we must put our original plan into action sooner than expected. You and I will leave for Ashraf tonight."

"Tonight?" Sadira echoed. "But—"

"I wish I could have given you more notice," Erik said, sounding as close to apologetic as she had ever heard. "However, time does not allow it. They will attack again. We must get the children out of Persia as soon as possible."

Her stomach gave a lurch. "What about you?" she asked Erik.

"They won't be expecting me to go to Ashraf, though no one will question my going to oversee the completion of the palace," Erik replied. "We will be able to elude any trouble."

"I hope so!" Sadira exclaimed, before she could stop herself. "I can't...Erik, I don't know how to fight!"

"As long as you are with me, you won't have to," Erik said, as though that settled the matter.

To Sadira, matters were far from settled. "Who will care for my lady while I'm gone? And how long will the journey take?"

"I can answer the first question," Sebastien replied. "We have a qualified doctor on board, and of course I will do all I can. My men are honorable, Sadira. You need not fear for your lady's safety."

Hearing that put Sadira at ease, though she still felt a tinge of guilt at leaving her mistress' side when she was so sorely needed.

"As to how long," Erik said, after careful consideration, "I should say less than a week, perhaps four days, if our luck holds."

Sadira nodded. It was hardly satisfactory, but what could she do? There was no choice. She had to go to Ashraf, and she would probably be safer traveling with Erik than with fifty guards from the palace.

Feeling sick to her stomach, she stood up. "I'd better go and change, then, and tell my lady that I'll be gone."

"Very well," Erik replied. "But make haste, my dear. Time is of the essence."

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"My lady?"

Pareesa opened her eyes, finding the task much less difficult than before. At least physically, she was feeling better.

"Sadira?" she inquired softly, as the room came back into focus. Her maid was sitting beside her hammock, her dark brown eyes shining. There was something very odd about her appearance...

Pareesa sat up. For the first time in weeks, she was able to do so without assistance. "What is it?"

Then she noticed Sadira's clothing. She was dressed in the plain, nondescript clothing of a servant boy.

"Sadira, why are you dressed like that?"

Sadira looked away for a moment, and it appeared that she was holding back tears.

"I must go, my lady. I don't want to leave you, but I must go to Ashraf with...with a guide that Captain de Chagny has found. He and his men will take care of you while I am gone. It should not be longer than a week."

"Who is this guide?" Pareesa demanded. "How does Captain de Chagny know he can be trusted?"

"I have met him," Sadira replied quietly. "And I trust him, my lady."

Pareesa fell back onto her pillow, face in hands. "Has the world gone mad while I've been dreaming with the houris? Or have I gone mad?"

"No, mistress," Sadira said, touching Pareesa's face gently. "Neither one or the other. Rest, for me, dearer than sister. I must leave now. When I return, you will see your children again."

Pareesa looked up at her formerly timid maidservant. Her words were gentle, but her voice was firm and direct, and her gaze would brook no argument.

When did this happen? Pareesa did not object to the change, but it was a surprise, to say the least.

"Thank you, Sadira. Please take care of yourself. And tell the children that I love them."

"I will, mistress." Sadira leaned down, and kissed Pareesa on the cheek. "Rest well, my lady."

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"Before Sadira comes back," Sebastien said, leaning forward on his chair and resting his elbows on the tabletop, "I would like to ask you something, Monsieur Erik."

Nadir's dark eyebrows rose, as he held back a smile. Very few spoke to Erik in such a direct manner. In Nadir's opinion, it was probably very good for Erik in the long run.

In some ways, he felt more like Erik's parent or guardian than friend. He was a guardian, in a sense. He was the guardian of all that was still good within Erik. And he was determined not to fail in his unofficially appointed task.

"What is it, Captain?" Erik asked. Nadir knew from his voice that he was trying to sound casual, though there was an undercurrent of wariness in his tone.

Sebastien brought his hands together, forming a steeple with his fingers. "Are you an honorable man?"

"Do you doubt my word, Captain?" The wariness in Erik's voice had been replaced by annoyance that could possible flare into another explosion of his temper.

"No. I merely want to make sure that Sadira will be safe on your journey. She's very young, you know. Princess Pareesa values her company and friendship very much. All I wish is to ensure that her innocence stays intact."

Erik's shoulders stiffened visibly, an obvious attempt to control his rage. "Captain, if you are suggesting that I would take advantage of the girl, you are seriously mistaken, to say the least!"

"I would ask the same of any other man, why should you be any exception?" Sebastien shot back.

Erik stalked over to the table, and laid his thin hands flat on the table, leaning toward Sebastien.

"Because, Captain, I am not like other men. As you will find out the hard way, if you dare to suggest such a thing of me again!"

Sebastien stood up as well, though it clearly caused him pain to do so, and he braced one hand on his chair.

"I am not afraid of you, Erik," Sebastien snapped, spitting the name out like tobacco.

"You would be, if you had the sense you were born with!" Erik retorted.

"STOP!" Nadir thundered.

Both Sebastien and Erik turned to stare at him, their argument temporarily forgotten.

"That is enough," Nadir said, putting a hand on Erik's shoulder in an attempt to draw him away from the table. "We do not have time for these childish games. Captain, will you be satisfied with Erik's word of honor that Sadira will be safe, in all ways, for the duration of this journey?"

"Yes," Sebastien replied, still gripping the chair very tightly.

"Erik," Nadir said gently, as Erik straightened up and rearranged his cloak.

He hesitated for a moment, and Nadir knew that he was struggling with his demonic pride once more.

"Erik," Nadir repeated, feeling more like a parent than ever.

"You have my word that she will be safe," Erik said at last, his gaze fixed on the porthole of Sebastien's cabin.

"Thank you," Sebastien said, sounding a good deal calmer. "And good luck on your journey."

Erik nodded curtly, just as Sadira entered the cabin once more. Her black hair had been tucked into a carefully wound turban. Though the clothing she wore was a little too large for her, it helped to hide her more feminine attributes. If Nadir hadn't known any better, he would have sworn that this was any other servant boy from the palace.

"Is everything ready?" Sadira ventured, hesitating just outside the doorway.

"It is," Erik responded. "Come, Sadira. I have packed for both of us, and with luck, we shall find the children as quickly as possible."

"Good luck," Sebastien said, his expression unreadable in the flickering light of the lantern.

"Go with God," Nadir said gravely.

"Thank you," Sadira replied. "For your blessings, and your kindness."

Sebastien bowed. "The pleasure is ours, my dear."

Erik strode to the doorway, and Sadira stepped back to allow him out. "We shall return."

Nadir watched them go, as Sebastien sank down into his chair.

Godspeed, Erik!