The Ape Who Guards the Balance - Elizabeth Peters [79]
She let out a little sound that might have been a muffled laugh. “That reason will serve as well as another.”
She reached for the knife and freed him in a series of quick slashes. With equal deftness she unlaced his boots and drew them off. Numb with long confinement—and sheer astonishment—he let her rub his hands and feet until they began to tingle with returning circulation.
“Wait in the doorway,” she said. “When you hear me call out ‘Beloved,’ count to ten, then go straight down the stairs. There are two men; you will have to deal with one of them. I think you will have no difficulty. After you have done so, go straight out the door. Do not stop, do not turn back.”
“My friend,” Ramses said. “Is he here?”
She hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “Don’t waste time searching for him, it would be too dangerous. Go and bring help.”
“But you—”
“I will be gone when you come back. Inshallah.” She added, with a faint smile, “You owe me a debt, young lord. When I call on you to make it good, will you come?”
“Yes.”
Her mouth found his. He met it with an appreciation that was not entirely due to gratitude, but when his arm went round her shoulders she twisted away and stood up.
“Another time,” she said. “Inshallah. Come now.”
She blew out the lamp and eased the door open. Silent on stockinged feet, he followed. By the time he reached the door she had gone ahead, along a corridor lit only by a glow from below. The house was of good size; there were three other closed doors and a lower floor. He waited until she had started down the stairs before he tried the other doors. None were locked. None of the rooms were occupied. A narrow flight of stairs, hardly more than a ladder, led to an opening through which he saw the glow of starlight. No need to look there, the ladder must go to the open roof.
The signal came sooner than he had expected. Abandoning caution, he ran for the stairs. He had known what she meant to do. All part of the day’s work for her, perhaps, but he couldn’t let her do it—not for him.
They were in the room opposite the foot of the stairs. The second man had his ear pressed to the flimsy panel of the door—waiting his turn, as he erroneously believed. He was too absorbed to hear the rush of unshod feet until it was too late. Straightening, he reached for the knife at his belt and opened his mouth to shout a warning. Ramses closed it for him and he fell back against the door, bursting it open. Ramses elbowed the inert body out of his way and went in.
He hadn’t realized how angry he was until after the other man lay sprawled on the floor at his feet. Rubbing his bruised hands, he watched Layla rearrange her clothing and sit up.
“Fool,” she snapped. “Why don’t you go?”
“You first. They’ll know it was you who freed me.”
She swore at him. He laughed aloud, giddy with the dangerous euphoria that follows a winning fight, and as she darted toward the door he swung her into his arms and kissed her.
“Fool,” she whispered against his lips. “You must hurry! They are coming soon, to move you to another place. If you knew what they plan for you, you would not linger.”
“Where is he?”
“I will show you, but don’t think I will stay to help you. The fate meted out to traitors is one I would not face.”
The man near the door was stirring. There wasn’t time to tie him up. Ramses turned him over and hit him again.
Layla had gone up the stairs. She was back immediately, wearing a dark cloak and carrying a loosely tied bundle. She must have got her things together in anticipation of flight before she freed him. A woman of many talents, Ramses thought.
Gesturing him to follow, she ran toward the back of the house and unbolted a door that led into a walled courtyard.
“He is there,” she said, indicating a shed against the far wall. “Ma’as salama, my lord. Do not cheat me of my payment.”
Moonlight framed her for a moment and then she was gone, leaving the gate through which she had fled ajar. Ramses headed for the shed, trying to avoid the squashier debris that litters Egyptian courtyards. Pebbles pressed into