A Feast in Exile Read Online Free PDF Page B

prayer and surprising Iniattir almost into silence; he went on in the old Persian tongue, "I mean you no harm;you have nothing to fear from me." The voice was mellifluous, reassuring, in an accent that Rustam Iniattir could not quiet identify; his pledges were accompanied by the purposeful sound of his boots on the stone floor, augmented by echoes, as he approached Rustam Iniattir.
     
     
"So we are told evil always promises us," Rustam Iniattir muttered, his hand going to the hilt of his dagger.
     
     
"As do those with beneficent intentions as well." The stranger spoke calmly, as if to quiet a startled child.
     
     
"If that is your purpose, why do you come at night? This is a time of Ahriman." Stating his apprehension so plainly made Rustam Iniattir clench his teeth.
     
     
"Do you think evil would dare to enter this shrine, even at night?" the voice inquired lightly. "You have said this is your sanctuary. You have made this a place of Light."
     
     
"And so it is," said Rustam Iniattir, trying to convince himself that the shrine was strong enough to protect him.
     
     
"Not everything abroad at night is of Ahriman's nature," said the voice, and finally its man of origin came into the circle of light.
     
     
Rustam Iniattir stared at the man. "Who are you?" he demanded. "I do not know you. You are not one of us."
     
     
"No, I am not," said the stranger, then added cordially, "I am called Sanat Ji Mani, at present."
     
     
"Is it your name?" Rustam Iniattir demanded, relieved that the face, illuminated by the lamps, was human— the features were Western: having the look of middle years, with dark hair, slightly curling, a wide brow, nose not quite straight, and eyes that were deep as the sea and dark as a starless night— and his manner respectful.
     
     
"It is close enough," said Sanat Ji Mani. He took a step closer and revealed himself; he was somewhat taller than Rustam Iniattir, dressed in a loose kandys of heavy black silk, with neat boots of red-tooled leather rising to his calves. He carried no weapons, and his only ornament was a small fibula of a silver-winged black disk worn at the neck of his garment. Simple though his clothing was, it was clearly of the highest quality.
     
     
"What are you doing here?" Rustam Iniattir made himself ask.
     
     
"I came to find you," said Sanat Ji Mani, as if the answer were obvious.
     
     
"For what reason?" Rustam Iniattir felt suddenly bold.
     
     
"Because I hope you and I might work together," said Sanat Ji Mani. He made a deep, reverential bow to the circular altar. "This may not be the place to talk of such matters, but I hope you will not refuse to deal with me because I sought you out in this shrine."
     
     
Reassured, Rustam Iniattir regarded Sanat Ji Mani with interest. "Why do you say this? You came here; it was your decision to come here."
     
     
"Yes, so you would know I am seeking you out in good faith. In another place, you might dismiss me, but here, you may be willing to hear me out." He had a quick smile that was gone before Rustam Iniattir was certain he had seen it.
     
     
"You have shown you understand my ways, at least a little. As to the rest, we shall see," said Rustam Iniattir, his manner more forceful than before. "Tell me what you want me to hear and then leave me to finish my devotions."
     
     
"Of course; I did not intend to disturb you, but I could think of no other means of meeting with you that would not put one of us at a disadvantage," said Sanat Ji Mani, and took a moment to be silent before saying anything more to Rustam Iniattir. "I have no desire to offend you, but I must tell you I have learned something of your business dealings."
     
     
Rustam Iniattir blinked at the effrontery. "How could you have done this? And why?"
     
     
"Your associates were willing to part with information in exchange for gold and silver," said Sanat Ji Mani without apology. "I am sorry I had to resort to such methods, for it may distress you