Silver Angel Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Johanna Lindsey
didn’t like being taken by surprise, but he certainly was. Even from this side view, he recognized his visitor’s nationality, and a dozen questions popped into his mind, along with dread, for he could think of only one reason for an Arab’s presence here, and it wasn’t good.
With difficulty, the Earl brought his features into a bland mask, and in precise Arabic, he asked, “You requested an interview?”
Ali ben-Khalil jerked around abruptly at the sound of a familiar tongue in this foreign land. It was unexpected, unhoped for, but then Ali was beginning to think Allah had personally seen him through this whole journey, so what was one more blessing? Hadn’t he made it safely out of Barikah? Hadn’t the weather cooperated and rushed the little three-masted xebec across the seas in less than a month? Even the crew had been blessed in finding an unexpected captive on shore who would add to their profit from this voyage. Then there had been the sailor who spoke English and helped to teach Ali the words he needed to know to reach this place quickly. And there had been the clothes he had easily found hanging in a backyard and stolen, so that he wouldn’t look so conspicuous when he had to approach strangers to ask directions. Everything had gone so well, too well, in fact, that he had begun to fear something had to go wrong just to balance the scales. But no, he was here. The tall man who spoke his tongue was obviously theone he sought. He had succeeded, to the very end. Pride and elation swelled in equal proportions within his chest.
“Derek Sinclair?”
At the nod, Ali quickly handed the letter forward, then stood back and waited, for what he had no idea. Perhaps there would be questions. Perhaps the Englishman could recommend where Ali could stay for the next six months. He still didn’t understand why he should be banned from Barikah for such a time, but he couldn’t complain. He was a rich man now. Besides his own purse, there was still a large balance left from the money he had used to hire the corsair.
He watched the Englishman move to a small desk in a corner and pick up a letter opener before sitting down. The letter itself took only a few seconds to read, it was so brief, and then he looked up to stare at Ali. It was those penetrating green eyes that finally broke through Ali’s euphoria to send a cold chill down his back. The eyes, the height, the aquiline features. There was no beard, but…
Ali groaned, then immediately prostrated himself on the floor. “Don’t kill me, gracious lord! Please, you must lock me away. I am willing, I swear!”
“Why?”
The question was so bland, Ali dared to raise his head slightly. “I—I have seen you.”
“So you have. Very well, how long shall I detain you?”
“Six months,” Ali replied instantly, finally understanding. “I was told not to return for six months.”
The Earl swore softly. Six months? He was supposed to be married next month. Caroline wasn’t going to like such a long delay. His grandfather wasn’t going to like it either. But if the courier was to bedetained for six months, then Derek could expect to be gone just as long.
“Get up off the floor and tell me what you can about this letter.”
“I didn’t read it,” Ali protested as he slowly rose, warily watching his host.
“It wouldn’t matter if you had. What else do you know about it?”
Ali briefly told him about the many couriers who had been sent out with the same letter, only to die by assassins. How he had volunteered and succeeded. Then he was asked about the Dey.
“I know only that there have been attempts made on his life, that he rarely leaves the palace now.”
“Do they know who is trying to kill him?”
Ali shrugged. “I am not from the palace. That is why I was sure I could succeed in coming here, after so many others had failed. I don’t know what goes on inside.”
Derek smiled. “You did well, my friend. Now, what am I to do with you for six
With difficulty, the Earl brought his features into a bland mask, and in precise Arabic, he asked, “You requested an interview?”
Ali ben-Khalil jerked around abruptly at the sound of a familiar tongue in this foreign land. It was unexpected, unhoped for, but then Ali was beginning to think Allah had personally seen him through this whole journey, so what was one more blessing? Hadn’t he made it safely out of Barikah? Hadn’t the weather cooperated and rushed the little three-masted xebec across the seas in less than a month? Even the crew had been blessed in finding an unexpected captive on shore who would add to their profit from this voyage. Then there had been the sailor who spoke English and helped to teach Ali the words he needed to know to reach this place quickly. And there had been the clothes he had easily found hanging in a backyard and stolen, so that he wouldn’t look so conspicuous when he had to approach strangers to ask directions. Everything had gone so well, too well, in fact, that he had begun to fear something had to go wrong just to balance the scales. But no, he was here. The tall man who spoke his tongue was obviously theone he sought. He had succeeded, to the very end. Pride and elation swelled in equal proportions within his chest.
“Derek Sinclair?”
At the nod, Ali quickly handed the letter forward, then stood back and waited, for what he had no idea. Perhaps there would be questions. Perhaps the Englishman could recommend where Ali could stay for the next six months. He still didn’t understand why he should be banned from Barikah for such a time, but he couldn’t complain. He was a rich man now. Besides his own purse, there was still a large balance left from the money he had used to hire the corsair.
He watched the Englishman move to a small desk in a corner and pick up a letter opener before sitting down. The letter itself took only a few seconds to read, it was so brief, and then he looked up to stare at Ali. It was those penetrating green eyes that finally broke through Ali’s euphoria to send a cold chill down his back. The eyes, the height, the aquiline features. There was no beard, but…
Ali groaned, then immediately prostrated himself on the floor. “Don’t kill me, gracious lord! Please, you must lock me away. I am willing, I swear!”
“Why?”
The question was so bland, Ali dared to raise his head slightly. “I—I have seen you.”
“So you have. Very well, how long shall I detain you?”
“Six months,” Ali replied instantly, finally understanding. “I was told not to return for six months.”
The Earl swore softly. Six months? He was supposed to be married next month. Caroline wasn’t going to like such a long delay. His grandfather wasn’t going to like it either. But if the courier was to bedetained for six months, then Derek could expect to be gone just as long.
“Get up off the floor and tell me what you can about this letter.”
“I didn’t read it,” Ali protested as he slowly rose, warily watching his host.
“It wouldn’t matter if you had. What else do you know about it?”
Ali briefly told him about the many couriers who had been sent out with the same letter, only to die by assassins. How he had volunteered and succeeded. Then he was asked about the Dey.
“I know only that there have been attempts made on his life, that he rarely leaves the palace now.”
“Do they know who is trying to kill him?”
Ali shrugged. “I am not from the palace. That is why I was sure I could succeed in coming here, after so many others had failed. I don’t know what goes on inside.”
Derek smiled. “You did well, my friend. Now, what am I to do with you for six