The Sultan's Spy

Chapter 47: Offers

Crouched beneath the tree spurge, which in turn was surrounded by an almost wild bunch of lavender, Tariq was confident he was hard to see. He inhaled deeply, the flower scent relaxing him slightly, as he strained his ears for the sound of Fahim's retreating footsteps. The other man had left him here but Tariq wasn't about to wait patiently like a pet dog. Not when he finally had a scent he could use to wake Eliska up.

When the last echoing trace of Fahim had left his ears, Tariq finally straightened. Moving slowly with his eyes alert for any trace of movement in the darkness, he extricated himself from the garden so his back was against the wall of the building that housed some of the highest officials. With its own private garden and separate entrance, Sirhan was clearly at home here. Though Tariq thought he was stupid for leaving hiding places so close to the door.

Not that he was going to complain when it made his work easier. It was the work of moments to slip into the doorway that Fahim had left ajar. Tariq left it open a crack for the same reason that Fahim had. The door looked like it would close with a loud sound, and even for so amateurish a spy as Fahim, he at least did take some precautions.

Tariq stopped just inside, letting his eyes adjust to the almost complete darkness he was in. At the far end of the hall he could see a faint glow, the steady warm colour telling him someone was using a lamp. He could just hear the distant hum of what he thought were voices.

Grimacing, Tariq hurried his way towards the light, still careful to tread softly. He hoped that Sirhan would go through the motions most of those with money thought were necessary. The pointless small talk that was a waste of time and breath. People from the city were smarter as far as Tariq was concerned. Straight to the point and blunt, so there was no misinterpretation. It might grate at him sometimes, but Tariq found he missed it. The palace was too many circles within circles.

He slowed even more as he approached where the hall's darkness met the edge of the light spilling from the wide open door. Tariq's nose twitched as he picked up some kind of incense, the scents within it unfamiliar, though he thought he detected a hint of cinnamon. He could just hear the voices now, but couldn't see anything.

Tariq hesitated for a second, then knelt down, doing his best to keep himself as far below eye level as he could. Only then did he inch himself forward, shifting so he could see a sliver of the room while still staying mostly out of the light. What he saw had him snorting silently.

The room was lushly appointed. Velvet upholstered chairs that looked like they'd never been touched lined one edge of the room, beautiful lamps that shone steadily were spaced evenly across the walls, with heavily embroidered tapestries hung between them. All the furniture was elegantly carved, shone in a way that spoke of frequent waxing, and looked like it cost more than everything Tariq owned.

He wanted to shake his head but resisted the urge so as not to draw attention to himself. Tariq frowned slightly as he paid more attention to the large table that sat in the middle of the room. It was heavier and plain, the top scarred. It looked as out of place in the room as the rolled-up rug that was behind the chairs. With everything else, he couldn't figure out why Sirhan didn't have the rug out as well, unless it was being replaced due to damage or something.

But then Sirhan was talking again and Tariq focused on that. "You weren't followed, were you?"

"No, sir!" Fahim bobbed his head in an almost bow. The expression on his face was between an eager to please puppy and a child expecting a treat. He really needed training if he hoped to be a real spy, or really, anything, Tariq thought.