Page 12 of Silver Angel

“It’s just a small port, Marsh. I’ll admit the old Dey had quite a few ships at his disposal, but you have people there who can monitor every ship that comes into the harbor. How can you not know?”

“How indeed, when your friend Jamil uses twins for his captains.”

“Twins? Good Lord, that’s brilliant!”

“You mean you didn’t know?”

“Come on, Marsh. Just because Jamil and I exchange a few letters every once in a white doesn’t mean I’m privy to his defenses.”

Marshall doubted his hearing. It was the first time Derek had ever called the Dey by name. “It might help, it really might, if I knew what your involvement was with the Dey when you lived in Barikah.”

Derek smiled and asked irrelevantly, “Are you staying for dinner, Marsh?”

“For God’s sake, Derek! What’s the bloody secret? Did you save his life? Is he indebted to you?” At Derek’s inscrutable expression, Marshall said in disgust, “Oh, never mind. I should have known better than to ask. But you could at least tell me if I’m beating a dead horse. Is he a friend or not?”

“He was.”

“Well, that’s something.” Marshall sighed, for it was certainly more than Derek had ever admitted before. “And yes, the Dey’s strategy with his navy is in fact brilliant. No one knows how many ships he really has, not his enemies, not his allies. It’s impossible to tell when one captain could actually be two, their ships’ names being the same. And at no one time are all his ships in port, so we can monitor the harbor forever and still not come up with a correct number. But the point is—”

“The point is, England doesn’t want to declare war on Barikah.”

“Exactly,” Marshall admitted. “Our treaty is a good one, an excellent one, in fact, and Jamil Reshid a miracle—an Ottoman who keeps his word.”

“So England is happy with the present Dey,” Derek concluded. “But what was this about another reason for my going to Barikah?”

“As I said, the English consul, Sir John Blake, hasn’t been able to get in to see the Dey. Well, we’ve only just found out why. Apparently there have been several attempts made on Jamil Reshid’s life recently. Naturally enough, security at the palace has more than tripled, and all business except the most important has been suspended.”

“And I would guess the ransoming of one slave wouldn’t be considered important by the palace officials?”

“Correct, but you don’t mention the assassination attempts on your ‘friend,’ I notice. Could it be you already knew about it?”

“You deliver the Dey’s letters to me yourself, Marsh, and you know it’s been a good year—”

“All right, all right, so you haven’t received any word. But why aren’t you surprised, or even concerned?”

“Good Lord, you’re suspicious today.” Derek chuckled. “If I’m not surprised, it’s because assassination attempts in the Ottoman Empire are a common occurrence. You know that. Why do you think it’s legal for a new sultan to kill off all his brothers when he comes to power?”

“Jamil Reshid has younger brothers.”

“I know, but Jamil Reshid is not a sultan, and the Deys of Barikah don’t practice fratricide. They do, however, surround themselves with bodyguards, who make it nearly impossible to get to them.”

“Nearly impossible, but not impossible.”

“True, so naturally there is reason for concern. Any ideas yet on who’s behind it?”

“Sir John says everything points to Selim, the next in line, because he hasn’t been seen in over six months and can’t be found. Of course, Sir John isn’t privy to everything that goes on in Barikah. He has his spies, but none inside the palace. The fact remains that Jamil’s sons aren’t old enough to rule. If Jamil dies now, Selim would be the new Dey, and that we would like to avoid at all costs.”

“Why?”

“Unlike Jamil, he can’t be trusted. We’ve had our reports on the fellow, believe me. He’s everything Jamil isn’t. No, we need Jamil to remain in power, not just because he’s friendly to England, tolerant of Christians, and has opened trade with us, but because the alternative is unacceptable. If Selim should come to power, the situation just might lead to war.”

“I take it there’s a rhyme and a reason for why you’re telling me all this.”

Marshall finally grinned. “If you were to reconsider going in after Miss Woods, we wouldn’t take it amiss if you should happen to find out who’s behind these assassination attempts and eliminate the problem while you’re there.”

Derek nearly choked on his laughter. “Hell, you don’t ask for much, do you?”

“England would be grateful—unofficially, of course.”