"He could not have left the city! Kasanpore is mine. No one draws a breath here without my knowing it."
"And yet Kartauk managed to hide himself and fashion an entire door without you knowing it."
A faint flush tinted Abdar's olive cheeks. "I begin to find your insolence intolerable. Perhaps I do not need your help after all."
Ian said quickly, "What is it that you wish us to do?"
"I told you, find Kartauk and bring him to me. His mother was Scottish and he has the same fondness as my father for those of your nationality. Perhaps he will trust you when he would hesitate to give faith to a man of my race."
"And how do you suggest we find him?"
"The woman. The Barnaby slut must occupy Kartauk's bed as well as Reilly's, or she would not run such risk." He shrugged. "It is not surprising. Reilly is no longer in his first youth, and Kartauk is a man in his prime."
Ruel's gaze narrowed on Abdar's face. "And what risk does she run?"
Abdar smiled blandly. "Why, the risk of displeasing my father by her deceit, of course. What other risk would I be speaking about?"
"And in return you'll arrange a meeting with your father?"
"Yes."
"And offer what influence you possess to gain us what we seek?"
"Just what do you seek from him?"
Ruel shook his head. "I believe we'll not discuss that at the moment."
"You expect me to promise blindly?" Abdar didn't wait for an answer. "Oh, very well, it doesn't matter. Bring me Kartauk and I'll give you whatever you wish." He turned and strode across the room. At the door he paused, glanced over his shoulder at Ruel, and for a moment a curious smile curved his lips. "I believe I would like you to pose for Kartauk."
"What?"
"The molding of your features has a certain beauty that rather reminds me of the sun god the Greeks favored. When I get Kartauk back, I'd like you to pose for a golden mask for the wall in my study."
"I think not."
"I can be very persuasive. We will discuss it later." The next moment the door had closed behind him.
"Arrogant bastard," Ian said.
"Yes." Ruel's tone was absent as he gazed at the carved panels of the door. "But he just may be able to give me Cinnidar."
"You're going to look for this Kartauk?"
"No." He started toward the door. "I'm going to find Kartauk."
Ian frowned as he followed him across the room. "I'm not sure we should have dealings with this Abdar. Kartauk may have had good reason to leave the court."
"I'm sure he did. But no better than I do for finding him."
"You're obsessed."
"Possibly."
"Even if you do find him, you won't turn him over to Abdar."
"Don't bet on it. I'll make that decision when I find him."
"I'll bet on it," Ian said placidly. "You intend to watch and follow the woman?"
"Probably."
"But Abdar said she hadn't met with Kartauk in two weeks."
"Which should make her very frustrated and eager to bed him at the earliest opportunity."
"Even if it places him in danger? What could justify that?"
Ruel's lips twisted cynically as he murmured a single obscene Anglo-Saxon verb.
Ian immediately shook his head. "Carnal pleasure isn't that important."
"Perhaps not to you." Ruel inclined his head in a mocking nod. "But to self-indulgent voluptuaries like Jane Barnaby and myself, it can cause a temporary fever that makes it seem worth quite a few risks."
"You don't know if he's telling the truth about her either."
"True. I admit he painted her a little too black. Even the most lustful of whores usually has some discrimination when choosing a bed partner. We'll have to see."
Ian shrugged as he glanced back at the statue. "Any man who can worship that monstrosity is capable of any falsehood."
"Probably." Ruel smiled recklessly as his glance followed Ian's. "But Abdar was right. His Highness and I do have a great deal of common ground. His lady isn't my favorite goddess, but I've dealt with her before and I know her ways well."
"Which goddess is she?"
"Kali."
"That doesn't mean anything to me. You know I pay no attention to these heathen practices."
"She's the wife of Siva." Ruel strode quickly down the hall past two turbaned footmen and out the front entrance of the palace. He paused a moment on the top step, the wet heat robbing him of breath as he looked down at the muddy river Zastu winding snakelike past the palace. A scrawny, half-naked beggar crouched by the river shaded by a palm-leaf umbrella as he dispensed blessings on the passersby who tossed him rupees, and curses on those who did not.
Kasanpore. Christ, what a miserable place. Hot, stinking, overrun by disease and snakes that crawled on the ground and walked on two legs.
As Ian joined him, Ruel started down the hundred stone steps leading to their waiting ricksha outside the palace gates. "But that's not Kali's only distinction," Ruel said. "The diety Abdar admires so much is also the goddess of destruction."
Jane Barnaby wasn't what he had thought she would be. Ruel leaned back against the rock and pulled his felt hat forward to shade his eyes as he gazed down at the crew laboring on the track in the valley below. From Abdar's description, he had pictured a strident, Junoesque virago, but Jane Barnaby was none of those things. Small and fine-boned, she appeared almost child-like in the baggy denim trousers, loose blue chambray shirt, and brown suede boots she always wore. A tan straw coolie hat shaded her head from the merciless rays of the sun as she moved down the row of track, stopping now and then to examine a fitting or speak sharply to a worker who was carelessly hammering a tie. Today her every step, every slightest movement, was charged with energy and vitality, but it was not always so. Often at the end of the day, when the workers had been dismissed and she thought no one present to witness her weakness, Ruel had seen her lean her forehead on the saddle of her mare, Bedelia, her shoulders sagging with exhaustion before gathering enough strength to mount her horse for the long ride back to Kasanpore.
Jane stopped, her gaze zeroing in on a wiry Indian whose pace in pounding the steel into the ground was almost leisurely. Ruel grinned as he saw her shoulders square and jaw tighten. He recognized those signs of annoyance and determination as he now recognized every gesture and motion she made. It was odd how quickly he had learned to read the woman. He had thought the surveillance would bore him, but instead he found himself caught, intrigued, and often amused.
She strode down the track toward the Indian and stopped before him. Ruel couldn't hear her words, but he could tell by the scowl on the Indian's face that the spate blistered. She turned and walked away and the Indian gazed after her, an ugly expression twisting his features. However, he kept his place, and it was not because of the brawny overseer, Robinson, who watched from the side of the road. He knew about the knife sheathed in Jane Barnaby's left boot.
And so did Ruel.
After a moment the Indian picked up his huge hammer and started pounding the spike with slightly more enthusiasm.
"Why don't you give it up?"
Ruel glanced over his shoulder to see Ian climbing the hill from the grove where he had tied his horse beside Ruel's. "Why should I? She's the key to Kartauk."