Alex clawed her own hands.
“And that upsets you, the humanitarian.” Jebal’s gaze was brilliant, hard.
The night had undone her, and she was precariously close to tears. “Yes.” And then Jebal’s next words stopped any impending sobs.
“But there was another man present. A bedouin. He escaped.”
Ohmygod, Alex thought frantically.Ohmygod.
“But we shall find him,” Jebal said flatly.
Benjamin Allen was beheaded an hour later, at dawn.
Alex was still awake, too tense to sleep. Allen’s execution was intended as an example to any others who thought to escape their bondage in Tripoli. Murad had not discovered what fates were to be meted out to Xavier and the other men. But the bashaw was more than furious. He had whipped the messenger who had first brought him the news of thePearl’sdestruction, and then he had imprisoned the six Turkish guards who had been on duty guarding the ship that night. They had all been bastinadoed.
The captain of that regiment of janissaries was given five hundred lashes, his body then paraded through the city for all to see, before being dumped unceremoniously into the sea.
It was midmorning now. Alex was exhausted, but she could not sleep. Nor could she eat or drink. She felt like a zombie. She kept praying to God for Xavier’s life.
Murad burst into her chamber, dark shadows under his eyes, his face haggard and grim. Alex leapt to her feet. “What? What!” she demanded.
“The bashaw sends them south.”
Alex froze. “South? I do not understand.”
“To the mines.” Murad walked over to her and stared down at her face.
She clutched his vest. “Why are you looking at me that way? What does this mean? At least he has not ordered their execution!” Alex cried.
“You don’t understand. He has ordered their deaths, Alex.”
Alex shook Murad hard. “Explain what you are saying!”
“The mines are worse than the quarries. Slaves are sent there to die. No one comes back alive, Alex. No one comes back, ever. It is not allowed.”
Alex sagged and sank down on the bed. Xavier was doomed? No! This could not be happening! She covered her face with her hands, trying, desperately, to think. But her mind was a scrambled mess. She looked up. “We must rescue him now, Murad, before he is sent away. Then he, you, and I shall flee.”
Murad shifted his weight. Pity and compassion mingled upon his expressive face. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I am not being ridiculous. We will steal a small sailing boat. Xavier is a seaman, I am a seawoman; we might be able to make it to Sicily. We have to try!”
“No one can make it to Sicily in the kind of boat you are thinking of stealing. Besides, it is too late.”
Alex could not have heard correctly. Her pulse pounding, she prayed she had misheard. “Excuse me?”
“They are already being escorted from the city.”
“No!”Alex cried, her face draining of all color. She was on her feet, but so fatigued she could hardly stand upright. Murad quickly reached out to support her.
“I am sorry, Alex. So sorry.”
“Where are they now?” she demanded hysterically.
“No. I won’t let you leave the palace again. Jebal is suspicious—and you don’t want to see what has been done.”
Alex elbowed him away and dashed for the door.
Murad cursed and ran after her, but she was already through it. “You don’t have a disguise!” he shouted angrily.
