of the instruments beneath the protective cover, Bryullov closed the box and locked it.
“I can tell you our theory,” Jamie sighed as he realised his mistake.
“ Our theory?” Bryullov glanced around the hill fort. “Has the Royal Navy sent a fleet?” Bryullov chuckled. “You are referring to the Indian, of course. Don’t look so surprised, Hari Singh is well-known among my peers and our contacts. He is a most appalling pundit, so very overt in his operations. It is little wonder that Smith has disowned him.” The Russian smoothed dust from the box and handed it to Najma. “You didn’t know, did you? Our good friend Singh has been playing you for a fool.”
“He has been straight with me, the entire time we have travelled together,” Jamie slipped his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat to hide his clenched fists. “He made no secret of his mission. I have no reason to suspect Hari’s loyalty.”
“You know best, of course,” Bryullov turned to Najma. “Please put the box back in the saddle bag.” Najma glanced at Jamie as she stood, picked up the box and walked to the horses. “Hari can be very convincing at times. He likely enlisted your help in the promise of helping you in return. Am I right?” Bryullov paused to study Jamie’s face. “Yes, I can see that I am. Well, Jamie, I hope for your sake that Hari does not disappoint you when it counts. But wait,” Bryullov stood and removed the pistol from his waistband. “This is exactly one of those moments. Is it not?” Waving the pistol at Jamie, Bryullov urged the lieutenant to his feet. “Where is your friend now that you are in the clutches of the enemy, eh? Ask yourself that lieutenant.”
“I know where Hari is,” Jamie stared at Bryullov.
Bryullov turned the pistol in his hand. Glancing in the direction of the city he fiddled with the flintlock hammer. “Do you know what a djinn pit is, lieutenant?”
“No,” Jamie readjusted his leg to a more comfortable position.
“A djinn pit is a deep hole in the ground. Most of the larger cities have one,” Bryullov looked up at Jamie. “Djinn pits are nasty places. Smooth, vertical walls you can’t climb.”
“This is interesting, but why are you telling me this?”
Bryullov rested the pistol on his thighs and pulled a thin, square tin from his pocket. Prising off the lid, Bryullov dipped two fingers into the tin and smeared a brown paste onto his cheeks and neck. Working the paste into his skin he grinned at Jamie. “To add to my disguise,” Bryullov dipped his fingers into the tin. “We Russians are not as pasty as you, but I would not like to be mistaken for an Englishman when we reach the walls of the city.”
“No?”
“Djinn pits,” Bryullov winked. He squashed the lid on the tin and slipped it back into his pocket. Rising to his feet he peered past Jamie and down toward the city. “I think we had better get within the walls before nightfall. Look there, something approaches.”
Jamie turned to look over the wall. Placing his hands on the rough-hewn stone, he scanned the road for signs of Hari, but saw only a wake of splintered carts and goods strewn along the road. Caravaneers and traders picked their way among the debris salvaging what they could. Jamie turned to the east. A large cloud of dust caught his eye and he stared at the massive shapes obscured within. The cloud drifted slowly along the road in the direction of the city.
“We must warn them,” Jamie turned to Bryullov. He stopped short as the Russian lifted the pistol by the barrel and swung the handle into the side of Jamie’s head. Jamie slumped to the ground.
“We will, my friend,” Bryullov turned Jamie onto his stomach and searched his body. Running his hands inside the Englishman’s collar, Bryullov found Jamie’s locket and removed it. Bryullov opened it and stared at the picture of Jamie’s mother for a moment before stuffing the locket into his trouser pocket.
“What have you done?”
“I can tell you our theory,” Jamie sighed as he realised his mistake.
“ Our theory?” Bryullov glanced around the hill fort. “Has the Royal Navy sent a fleet?” Bryullov chuckled. “You are referring to the Indian, of course. Don’t look so surprised, Hari Singh is well-known among my peers and our contacts. He is a most appalling pundit, so very overt in his operations. It is little wonder that Smith has disowned him.” The Russian smoothed dust from the box and handed it to Najma. “You didn’t know, did you? Our good friend Singh has been playing you for a fool.”
“He has been straight with me, the entire time we have travelled together,” Jamie slipped his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat to hide his clenched fists. “He made no secret of his mission. I have no reason to suspect Hari’s loyalty.”
“You know best, of course,” Bryullov turned to Najma. “Please put the box back in the saddle bag.” Najma glanced at Jamie as she stood, picked up the box and walked to the horses. “Hari can be very convincing at times. He likely enlisted your help in the promise of helping you in return. Am I right?” Bryullov paused to study Jamie’s face. “Yes, I can see that I am. Well, Jamie, I hope for your sake that Hari does not disappoint you when it counts. But wait,” Bryullov stood and removed the pistol from his waistband. “This is exactly one of those moments. Is it not?” Waving the pistol at Jamie, Bryullov urged the lieutenant to his feet. “Where is your friend now that you are in the clutches of the enemy, eh? Ask yourself that lieutenant.”
“I know where Hari is,” Jamie stared at Bryullov.
Bryullov turned the pistol in his hand. Glancing in the direction of the city he fiddled with the flintlock hammer. “Do you know what a djinn pit is, lieutenant?”
“No,” Jamie readjusted his leg to a more comfortable position.
“A djinn pit is a deep hole in the ground. Most of the larger cities have one,” Bryullov looked up at Jamie. “Djinn pits are nasty places. Smooth, vertical walls you can’t climb.”
“This is interesting, but why are you telling me this?”
Bryullov rested the pistol on his thighs and pulled a thin, square tin from his pocket. Prising off the lid, Bryullov dipped two fingers into the tin and smeared a brown paste onto his cheeks and neck. Working the paste into his skin he grinned at Jamie. “To add to my disguise,” Bryullov dipped his fingers into the tin. “We Russians are not as pasty as you, but I would not like to be mistaken for an Englishman when we reach the walls of the city.”
“No?”
“Djinn pits,” Bryullov winked. He squashed the lid on the tin and slipped it back into his pocket. Rising to his feet he peered past Jamie and down toward the city. “I think we had better get within the walls before nightfall. Look there, something approaches.”
Jamie turned to look over the wall. Placing his hands on the rough-hewn stone, he scanned the road for signs of Hari, but saw only a wake of splintered carts and goods strewn along the road. Caravaneers and traders picked their way among the debris salvaging what they could. Jamie turned to the east. A large cloud of dust caught his eye and he stared at the massive shapes obscured within. The cloud drifted slowly along the road in the direction of the city.
“We must warn them,” Jamie turned to Bryullov. He stopped short as the Russian lifted the pistol by the barrel and swung the handle into the side of Jamie’s head. Jamie slumped to the ground.
“We will, my friend,” Bryullov turned Jamie onto his stomach and searched his body. Running his hands inside the Englishman’s collar, Bryullov found Jamie’s locket and removed it. Bryullov opened it and stared at the picture of Jamie’s mother for a moment before stuffing the locket into his trouser pocket.
“What have you done?”
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