Blue Damask by Banks Annmarie

Author:Banks, Annmarie [Banks, Annmarie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Blue Agave Books
Published: 2013-12-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Elsa woke suddenly, papers rustled under her cheek. She returned the file and the letters to the briefcase and clasped it securely shut. She looked at the guards and saw they were absolutely still and intensely focused on the road. She listened until she heard the faint sound of hoof beats. She crawled to Descartes and quietly woke him.

“Monsieur. Someone is coming,” she whispered.

“Mon Dieu.” He rolled on one elbow and then let her help him to sit propped against the house. The hoof beats slowed and then disappeared, though the guards did not relax. Elsa heard the metallic click of a rifle being carefully readied. She gathered her briefcase close to her body and considered going into the house. Descartes was trying to stand, but could not get his feet under him. Elsa could not leave him outside. She set her briefcase on the threshold and moved to put her hands under his arms. Descartes took her arm, and bracing himself against the wall, staggered to his feet.

She did not speak, but gave his arm a little tug toward the entrance to the house. He shook his head and pointed his chin toward the guards. He extended a hand towards the tarpaulin as if he were pointing an invisible pistol at it. His index finger finger pulled the imaginary trigger. She nodded, understanding. Elsa helped him inch his way along the house, one hand on the wall until he could reach for the pile of supplies. The guard nearest them kept his eyes on them both.

Descartes retrieved the pistol and rolled the cylinder expertly. He nodded toward the entrance to the house again and widened his eyes to insist that she enter.

Elsa picked up her briefcase, and when she was certain Descartes could stand without falling, she went inside. The two women were huddled in a corner. The little girl was on the Turkish woman’s lap, the infant on the Bedouin’s. The little boys were nowhere to be seen. Both women stared at her, frightened. She made a gesture with her hand to keep them still and quiet. She held on to the thick wooden beam that supported the sides of the doorway and the lintel and peered out.

The four men had taken defensive positions. Two of them were down on one knee with the rifles to their cheeks. Descartes was propped against the brick house with his pistol ready. The hoof beats became loud and moments later she could see the riders coming through the tall coarse grass that grew in the space between the river and the desert. There were two horses and two riders. She strained her eyes to see if the men approaching were tribesmen or Europeans. The man in front was wearing a billowing head cloth and a black agal, the man behind was bareheaded. The horses and riders became larger with every minute and soon she could tell that the man in front was wearing dark trousers and a suit coat with the keffiyah blowing behind him.

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