The Treasure_ A Novel - Iris Johansen [37]
He muttered a curse. “Very well, I won’t kill him unless I find it absolutely necessary. That’s all you’ll get from me.”
It was all she could expect. She had no desire to tie Kadar’s hands if it meant robbing him of defense. Besides, she wasn’t at all sure she wouldn’t take action herself under those circumstances. Best not to pursue the subject. “How long will it take to get to Sienbara?”
“If the road is good, a week of hard riding.”
Her pace quickened. “Then let’s find those horses. I wish this over.”
Selene shivered. “It looks very strong.”
Sienbara Castle was perched on one of the highest hills in the Tuscany countryside. Though small, its stone walls and moat were as impressive as any she’d seen. Even the windows were well situated. She had watched Ware build his castle and knew the value of correctly positioned windows for the loosing of arrows.
Kadar’s gaze was on the castle. “You’re frightened. Why? It’s less formidable than Nasim’s fortress.”
It was true. Maysef had been a ghost fortress surrounded by stark mountains. Sienbara was merely a small, well-guarded castle surrounded by lovely rolling countryside. She didn’t know why she was feeling this disturbance. Her uneasiness had erupted like a dormant volcano the moment she caught sight of Sienbara.
Kadar met her gaze. “I feel it too,” he said quietly.
“Do we make camp here? It’s growing dark,” Balkir demanded as he rode up to join them. He cast a contemptuous glance at the castle. “It is nothing. Nasim should have sent me alone. He didn’t need you.”
Evidently Balkir felt none of the unease she and Kadar shared, Selene realized. She glanced at Haroun. The boy looked tired but not frightened. No one but Kadar and she seemed to sense this impending—
Kadar nodded. “Tell the men we’ll camp here for the night.” He slipped from the saddle before helping Selene from her horse. “But keep a sharp watch.”
Selene moved restlessly on her blanket. She was tired, bone weary from the long journey, but she could not sleep. Why didn’t Kadar come back to the camp? After they had eaten, he left without a word and climbed the slope overlooking Sienbara.
He was still there. She had left her tent flap open and she could see him silhouetted against the moonlit sky.
What was he thinking?
Well, she would never know unless she asked him, she thought impatiently.
She tossed her blanket aside and left the tent. A moment later she was climbing the slope.
“I was expecting you.” His gaze didn’t leave the castle as she came to stand next to him. “It took you long enough.”
“I can’t sleep. What are you doing?”
“Listening.”
“Listening?”
“Don’t you hear it calling?”
She tilted her head. It was a still night, and yet, did she hear . . . ? “I hear nothing. You’re mad.”
“Perhaps.” He smiled down at her. “Or perhaps you’re afraid to hear it.”
“There’s nothing to hear but the wind blowing through the cypress.”
“Nasim taught me there’s always more to hear than one would think. Places call, people call. One must only open one’s mind to hear them.”
His head lifted, his gaze returning to the castle, and she could sense his excitement. It was as strange as this place, and it frightened her. “It’s only the wind. Come back to camp and go to sleep.”
“In a moment.”
“Now.”
“What a nagging wench you are.” He turned and started down the slope. “There’s nothing to fear. You should embrace new experiences.”
“Like trying to find a way into an enemy castle to get that foolish box?” She fell into step with him. “When will you go?”
“Tomorrow night. Midnight. I’ll scale the south wall.”
“Alone?”
“I’m safer alone. Nasim was right in that.”
“Then he should have come himself.”
“I think he was afraid.”
“What?”
“I’ve never known him to fear anything, but I think he was afraid to come here. Interesting, is it not?”
More chilling than interesting. “So he sent you to face this Tarik.”
“Tarik . . .” He glanced over his shoulder at the castle. “Nasim told me little about him. That’s odd in itself. He usually made sure I knew everything about a situation.”
“You know that Tarik usually sends