The Treasure_ A Novel - Iris Johansen [95]
“You paint an ugly picture,” Kadar said.
“It can be ugly.”
“So is life,” Layla said. “It can also be joyful. Are we all to die in the womb because we fear to face the harshness?”
It was clearly an old and bitter battle between them, and Kadar had enough with which to deal without having to think of their conflicts. “The decision wouldn’t be mine. I’m not like you, Tarik. I’d give her a choice.”
Tarik flinched. “That was unfair. You weren’t able to—”
“But you were planning to do it anyway. You manipulated Nasim to bring me to your doorstep and then—” He shook his head as he realized the subject he was arguing. “God in heaven, I’m talking as if I believe all this. It’s the wildest tale I’ve ever heard, and there’s no way of proving it true or false.”
“You’ll get your proof in a hundred years or so,” Layla said. “Providing you don’t do something foolish and get slaughtered in battle.”
“A hundred years.” He could take no more of this. He turned to leave. “I have to go tell Selene you’ve agreed to let us use the grail.”
“But nothing else?”
“Why should I tell her something I don’t believe myself?”
Tarik’s smile was sad. “But you are beginning to believe it, aren’t you?”
God help him, he was. He didn’t believe in sorcery, and if Tarik and Layla had told him the grail was magical, he could have shrugged off the rest of the story. But the discovery of the potion through intense curiosity and hard work was a concept with which he could identify. From his own experience, he knew the miracles that could be wrought with those two weapons. “It doesn’t matter whether I am or not. Since it can’t be proved, I just have to live my life as if it’s only a mad tale.” He grimaced. “Which is probably the truth.”
“But now you’ll be more careful of the grail,” Tarik said. “Because, in your heart, you know its value.”
“I’ll be careful because I gave you my promise and for no other reason. I cannot consider any of this idiocy right now. There are plans to be made.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t already made them.” A hint of sarcasm deepened Tarik’s tone. “You seemed very sure of me.”
“I have a few thoughts on the subject.” Kadar smiled. “But Selene also has an idea. She wishes me to involve an old acquaintance, who is probably going to cost you a great deal of gold. What do you know of Vaden’s whereabouts?”
“This is a foul place.” Selene stepped gingerly over one of the many scraps of garbage littering the alley. “And it smells of dung and—”
“Stop complaining. You wished to come.” Kadar grasped her elbow. “The inn is just ahead. Stay close to me. From what Tarik said, it’s a low place frequented only by soldiers and whores.” He pushed open the door. “Don’t be surprised if you see things you don’t want to see. In a place like this, no one bothers to seek privacy when they wish to rut.”
“Then it’s no different than the House of Nicholas.”
But it was different. The place was as different from the pristine cleanliness of Nicholas’s house as silk was from leather.
Dimness.
Noise.
Smoke.
The sour smell of sweat, wine, and ale assaulted Selene’s nostrils as she followed Kadar into the room. Only a few candles lit the darkness. The room was crowded, the tables full, but she couldn’t make out the faces of any of the men or women.
“I don’t see him. Are you sure he should be here?”
“No. Tarik said he spent time here when he wasn’t selling his lance to local lords. He might not be in Rome at all. Why are you so determined to have him?”
She wasn’t sure herself. Perhaps it was the coincidence of having Vaden suddenly emerge from the veil of years. It seemed almost like a sign. “He helped us before. If he’s selling his lance now, Tarik might as well buy him for us.” She frowned. “It’s too dark in here. We’ll have to go farther into the room.”
“I never actually saw Vaden. Would you recognize him?”
“He has fair hair.” She had seen him only once, and then his face had been blackened by smoke. “Like a lion. I’d recognize his hair.”
No one seemed to pay them any attention as they moved about the