Chapter Ten—An Abassir in the Clear

Shiro stepped through the door back in the room Ali had secured for them in this out of the way inn on the outskirts of Darshuun.

Ali was at the table and looked up sharply, his hand going to the hilt of his scimitar. “Oh,” he said. “It’s you.”

Shiro nodded.

“It’s you!”

“Yes?”

“Where have you been?” He said, his hands gesturing impatiently. “I have been waiting for over an hour, only to come back here to find you gone. I was worried the guards had come and taken you!”

“I am sorry, but I—”

“You should be sorry!” he exclaimed, slamming his closed palm onto the table. “I almost went back out to look for you.”

“I was losing my mind in here,” Shiro said. “I needed to get some fresh air.”

Ali signed heavily and rubbed his face. “Fine.”

Unbuckling his sword belt, Shiro sat it on the table. “Did vizier Shai’na help you?”

Ali nodded.

“Not good news?”

“No, no,” he said. “I am just tired, Shiro. So do you remember vizier Faridoon?”

“Of course.”

“He’s dead.”

Shiro almost gasped.

“I know,” Ali said. “I was surprised to hear it as well. “Apparently when the sultan’s men went into the manor, they didn’t play nicely. That we were spared and thrown into the backs of those wagons was a miracle of the gods, I think.”

“And your slaves?”

Shiro was glad Debaku was not in the room. He hand sensed a certain tension between him and Ali, more leaning on the side of Ali. Being a slave owner himself, he could be quite harsh in his words concerning such.

“No word of a dead cat eye,” he said. “I think Naro survived. But Shurk and Malu are almost certainly dead.”

“I am sorry.”

Ali made a dismissive sound and waved it off. “I can buy more slaves, Shiro.”

It was a cold thing to say, but Shiro didn’t think it his place to say anything about that. He was a foreigner in these lands, an isekai. It was no place of his to medal and attempt to change things. Certainly not when Shiro’s country had its own share of problems—different problems, but just as troublesome in their own ways, and so he only nodded in acknowledgement.

Then he said, “Good thing you did not bring Nusah along.”

Ali nodded. “So, I think it will be okay to return to the manor,” he said excitedly. “Gods, I can do with a hot meal and a bath, Shiro!”

A sentō would be perfect.

But until he had Jessamine back, he wouldn’t indulge in those luxuries.

“Listen,” Ali said as if he had heard Shiro’s thoughts, “if we are going to get Jessamine back, we have to go into the palace. There is no way around this. Darius has her—probably locked away and guarded. He is not going to walk out onto the street waving the lamp around, yes?”

Shiro nodded. “I think you are right.”

“Well of course I am, my friend.” He touched his temple with his finger. “I am the strategist among us, eh?”

Shiro shrugged.

“Ha!”

They both looked up when someone’s hands grabbed the lintel of the open window. Both men grabbed for their swords as Debaku hauled himself up into a squatting position in the window.

“What?!” Ali barked. “Why are you climbing through windows when we have a door?”

Debaku let himself down and stood stoically in the room with them. “I have just come from the palace.”

“Yes?” Ali asked in annoyance. “That is good!”

Shiro moved the topic along, away from Ali’s frustration and into more important matters. “What did you find out?”

“Much, Shiro.”

“No, no, no!” Ali said. “I refuse to spend another moment in this godsforsaken rat hole of an inn. We are leaving!”

Debaku regarded the frustrated Abassir, then his eyes went to Shiro for explanation. “Ali called on Shai’na,” he said. “It seems that he is clear as far as the sultan’s men are aware.”

“Yes,” Ali said as he went for the door. “And now it is time to leave.”

“We are going to his manor nearer the center of town.”

“Is that wise?” Debaku asked.

“Well of course it is!” Ali said. “Have you not been listening, man?”

Shiro nodded. It will be fine.

“Very well,” Debaku said. “Let us go.”

As Ali stepped out of the room he called back, “And we shall, my Mar’a Thulian friend! Now come, my infidel companions!”

Debaku and Shiro looked at each other.

Debaku said, “Your friend… he has a mouth on him.”

Shiro shrugged apologetically. “Along with his wealth, his mouth has gotten bigger.”

Debaku shook with half a convulsion of mirth, but the sound of his chuckle didn’t leave his mouth.