Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
S arah swirled the last of her coffee around her cup and frowned into its depth. She guessed he would be surprised that someone sounding so English was from Sirun. She also guessed this kind of thing didn’t happen every day. From what she’d heard about the country—which wasn’t much—the people kept to themselves. Her frown deepened. But that didn’t explain his expression because he looked not only surprised, he looked as if he finally understood something. Only one way to find out what he was thinking. She drew a deep breath and rose from the table, placing her cup on the table beside his. She waited until he glanced at her. But his expression was no longer revealing. Whatever he’d been thinking was hidden behind that impenetrable facade.
“You looked surprised,” she said. “Just then,” she added, because he certainly didn’t any longer.
He shrugged and leaned back against the side table. “Of course. I imagined you were as you first appeared—an English tourist.”
She scanned his face, trying to find something of that earlier expression which had so baffled her. Perhaps she’d imagined it.
“I did not,” he continued, “imagine your family came from Sirun. It is unusual. Sirun is a traditional country with a traditional culture. Few people leave to move elsewhere permanently. But, it seems, your grandfather was one of the few.”
She really didn’t want to reveal what her grandfather had told her about the deaths of her parents. He’d warned her it would be dangerous to divulge it to anyone. She opened her mouth to speak, but smiled and shrugged instead, turning away to hide her confusion. But the light touch of his hand on her arm stopped her from moving away. She turned to him.
“And I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “No doubt you are here to find out more about your roots.” He withdrew his hand.
She nodded, relieved he understood. “Yes, I knew nothing about Sirun until shortly before my grandfather died. You see, he’d kept it from me my whole life.” She shook her head, still unable to understand. “That’s the whole reason I came here. I need to know.”
“And know you shall. But not tonight.” He looked up at the shadowy walls around which the storm raged and the wind whined. “Tonight, we must shelter from the storm.”
She sighed and nodded. “Yes. I guess my problems are for another day.”
“Tonight, you should rest after your ordeal.”
“Thank you.” It seemed admitting her family was from Sirun had brought out a softer side of this fierce man. No longer a tourist, but from a family who shared his culture. And she was glad of it.
“Now, I suggest I show you the bedroom.”
She blinked, suddenly unsure again. The bedroom? Her reaction to this man made his words feel more sexual rather than practical. She tried to laugh, but it sounded strangled, more alarmed than humorous. She shot him another quick look. He was like a different man from the stranger who’d carried her into the castle. Entirely different. He now seemed welcoming, warm, almost. Almost. And she felt another warning bell, and she wished she had her phone on her.
“Um, yes, that would be… um, good. But I wondered before we go if there’s anything we can do to find my backpack? Is there anyone you could call to track it down?”
“The phones won’t work in these atmospheric conditions. Don’t be concerned. I’ll look into it as soon as the storm has passed. I can assure you, your things will be returned.”
Before she could question him on how he could assure her of such a thing, he’d opened the door and after a brief hesitation, as if he weren’t accustomed to it, held it open for her.
He stood a little too close, and she had to brush past him. She continued walking, desperately trying to ignore both the alarm bells which were practically deafening now, and the frisson of awareness which sent goosebumps coursing along her skin, hidden beneath the swathes of her abaya.
She didn’t stop walking until she was in the middle of the vast dark space of the hall. The door closed with a resounding thud behind her and he approached, holding the lantern, the light shifting towards her, revealing more of the hall as he went. She hadn’t been in a state to see anything earlier. But now she gazed in awe at the frescoes, all inward alarms forgotten by what she was seeing.
Vast paintings covered the walls, fading into the shadowy heights of the ceiling above. Kadar held up the lantern, revealing tantalizing glimpses of people, animals and gardens—some fearful, others beautiful, but all symbolizing power.
“Wow!” she breathed. “The guidebooks said that the castle was rumored to contain incredible painted frescoes but was vague on the details.”
“Because they don’t know. Few people do,” he said. “We don’t wish to entice people here to steal its treasures.”
“How could they steal a wall?”
He shrugged. “I’ve seen it done. Most of it is defaced in the process. But if they can get some of it down intact, it will fetch millions on the black market. No, this is a secret treasure. And one which you, also, must keep secret.”
“Of course.” She paused.
He narrowed his eyes as if he didn’t believe her.
“Don’t you trust me?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I trust no one. Not even strange Englishwomen found all alone in the desert in the middle of a sandstorm.” His lips quirked in what she was beginning to recognize was his version of a smile.
She smiled back. “I see your point. But, in this instance, this strange Englishwoman can be trusted. Besides, I don’t know any thieves who would like to know such information.”
“And if you did, you would tell them?” He raised an eyebrow.
There was something about that arrogant brow which got to her. It suggested he had complete authority. She guessed he probably did live and work alone in this castle. She shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t. I’m a school counsellor and so I know how to keep secrets.”
“A school counsellor,” he repeated. “I wondered what it was you did.”
It was her turn to be surprised. “You did?”
“Yes, you don’t look like your average back-packer.”
“And what do they look like?”
“They have an air of na?ve curiosity. A way of looking at things from a distance. They have the privilege of distancing themselves from what they see. You don’t. And there’s something else in your eyes, an expression I can’t place.”
She turned away. She really didn’t want anyone to know what was in her eyes, or her heart. “Why should you be able to?”
“Because I know people.”
She turned to him and huffed out a laugh. “Living here, far from everyone?”
“I don’t always live here.”
“And when you don’t, you’re an expert on the human condition?”
“Yes. I have ample opportunity in my position.”
She huffed another laugh. “Right.”
“But I can’t tell your story from a glance. Perhaps over dinner I will piece it together.”
She’d hoped she’d be able to go straight to bed, lock the door to keep herself safe from temptation, and hibernate until the storm was over. But it seemed he had other ideas. Plus, her stomach rumbled at the thought of food.
“You have snacks here?” she asked hopefully.
“I have more than snacks, believe me. If you follow me, I’ll show you to your bedroom, and you can get showered and change if you wish.”
“Changed? I’ve nothing to change into.”
He waved a hand airily. “You will find clothes in the wardrobe.”
“I can’t wear someone else’s clothes!”
“Of course you can. Think nothing of it.” He indicated the stairs. “This way.”
She walked up the stone steps, which hugged the side of the wall. At the top, they opened out into a wide landing and they walked side-by-side until he stopped at the first door. “This room is always kept ready.”
“Really?” She didn’t believe him. “For strange women turning up in the desert.”
His expression didn’t change. “Exactly that.”
He opened the door. She wasn’t prepared for the glamor and luxury within. The rest of the castle was grand on an austere scale, but whoever used this bedroom was accustomed to grandeur on quite a different level.
“Wow,” she said. “What an amazing room.”
He went to a cupboard and took out another couple of lanterns, lit them, and placed them on either side of the room.
“There’s a bathroom through that door, and you should find something to wear in the wardrobe.” He opened a door to reveal a walk-in-wardrobe whose contents sparkled and shimmered under the lantern light.
She ran her hands along the luxurious materials. “Does someone usually live here? These clothes don’t look as if they’ve been here long.”
“They haven’t.”
“Oh.” She looked at him, curious to hear the rest of the story, but it didn’t appear as if he were about to give her it.
She turned to see fabulous lengths of glittering jewelry reflected in a mirror. “Wow!”
“Help yourself to anything.”
“No way. They look expensive. The real thing.”
“If they were of value, you can be sure the person to whom they belong would have taken them with her.”
Before Sarah could ask anything further, Kadar checked the bolt on the shutters and, apparently satisfied, walked over to the door. “When you’re ready, retrace your steps and come into the main hall. Dinner will be served there.”
He left immediately, without waiting for a response, leaving Sarah with more questions than answers. Dinner will be served? By whom? And who was it who’d left a closet full of glamorous clothes—a woman who Kadar obviously strongly disliked? And who was this man who appeared to be the castle’s only inhabitant? A man whose guard had dropped when she’d revealed her identity. She had more questions than answers, but was determined to change that over dinner.
After a long soak in the bath—which also had an incongruously glamorous addition of thick towels and exquisitely perfumed soaps—Sarah felt wonderful, and bold enough to do as Kadar had suggested and look through the exquisite dresses which lined the wardrobe.
Again, she was puzzled by their presence. These, she thought as she trailed her hands down a red sequined dress with a plunging neckline, were definitely not what you’d expect to see in a deserted, or near deserted, castle in the middle of nowhere. Who did they belong to?
She lifted one beautiful silk dress off the hanger and held it up to the light. It was the color of the midnight sky and the gossamer silk floated back into place. It wasn’t as flashy as the others and its loose fit would disguise the fact that the owner of these clothes definitely had a fuller figure than hers.
It didn’t look as if it had ever been worn. Most of the clothes looked pristine, as if they’d just arrived from a French Atelier. She shook her head. This place, this man, and these clothes were a puzzle. But it was one she wanted to solve.
She nodded at her reflection in the mirror as she held up the dress in front of her. Yes, definitely this dress, tonight. And maybe, just maybe, it would help her solve the mysteries immediately before her. And who knew? Perhaps this stranger, this Kadar, might help her with the puzzle of her family. But not yet. She needed to figure him out first. Because if there was one thing she’d learnt, it was that families didn’t get wiped out for no reason. Her family had enemies. And she needed to know who they were.