The Father of Locks by Andrew Killeen

Author:Andrew Killeen
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781907650987
Publisher: Dedalus
Published: 2012-04-20T04:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

The Tale of the Shower of Petals, including, The Tale of the Cock and his Hens

She was waiting for me when I descended into the garden.

Getting into the merchant’s house was nothing to me; I had often broken into buildings in search of gold, silver and jewels, but never for the promise of greater treasure than her company. I scrambled up a wall, using shuttered windows and the cracks between bricks, any irregularity my eager fingers could probe. The outer wall was two storeys high, but the upper level was only a facade. I swung myself over and dropped gently onto the flat roof of the outer rooms. From there it was a silent flit over the heads of the sleeping householders until I came to the women’s quarters, and a feather leap down to the courtyard.

The moon was nearly full now, but even so I did not believe what I saw as she ran up to me. She was unveiled, and I beheld her whole face for the first time. She was a few years older than me, at the peak of her comeliness. Her mouth was so shapely it seemed to be have been coaxed from clay by a master sculptor, and still glistened wet from the touch of his fingers. The wide brown eyes that had first caught my attention had shadows under them, as if they carried some secret sadness, but were clever and generous.

I gasped at the sight of her naked face. She smiled, causing small creases to appear at either end of her mouth, and whispered to me.

“This is the women’s quarters. Why would I wear a veil here?”

I was reminded of the danger I was in. If Imran ibn Zaid caught me in the women’s quarters of his house, he would rip me apart, and no qadi in the land would condemn him for it.

“Show me where it happened.”

Layla gestured around the garden.

“She was playing here. The nurse was in the privy, over there. It opens onto the courtyard, so she could see the child most of the time.”

I looked around. Ibn Zaid did well for himself, and for his women. A shallow pool at the centre cooled the air, and arranged in artful lines around it were roses and carnations, richly scented jasmine and beds of fragrant basil and coriander. The place seemed so calm, so soothing to the senses, it was hard to believe evil had come there.

“Where is the merchant?”

Layla pointed to the wall that separated the women’s quarters from the rest of the house.

“Through there.”

The door in the wall was secured with a heavy iron lock. Glancing nervously at the girl, I drew a couple of bent needles from my sleeve. I was ashamed to let her see my skill at housebreaking, but she watched with shining eyes and her mouth slightly open as I picked the lock, and kissed me on the cheek when the door swung open. I could hardly look at her as I spoke.

“Wait here. If you are found sneaking around the house …”

But Layla took my hand and led me through.

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