The Last Heroes (Men at War 1)

‘‘Get off that horse, Eric,’’ he said. ‘‘Before you fall off.’’

Fulmar pulled the cloth mask free of his face. He was smiling warmly.

‘‘Canidy, what the hell are you doing here?’’

Then he dismounted gracefully and ran toward Canidy, arms extended, and wrapped his arms around him.

3

There was no question that Sidi Hassan el Ferruch would invite the two Americans to stay. He took seriously the teaching of the Koran about treating well the friend of a friend. And besides, he was mightily intrigued by this strange American way of catching his attention. Not wishing, however, for matters to move swiftly, he allowed Canidy and Fulmar only the briefest of greetings, then hustled Eric off to his room, where he would presumably bathe and change. After that he ordered a servant to show Baker and Canidy to guest rooms where they could presumably do the same.

A meal would be served in the garden in two hours, he announced. And wine would be made available before and during the meal to those who were not of the faith . . . and to those inclined to wink at certain less than divinely inspired teachings of the Holy Koran, he added, with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Canidy was not surprised when Eric Fulmar came to his room a half hour later, bearing a bottle of wine. What did surprise him was the intensity of his own emotions at seeing Fulmar again. It was some time before he was able to remind himself that he was here on business.

‘‘The scenery aside, don’t you get lonely here?’’ Canidy asked.

‘‘No,’’ Fulmar said, quickly, defensively.

‘‘Well, I suppose the smuggling does keep you busy,’’ Canidy said.

Fulmar’s eyes went cold.

‘‘You know about that, do you?’’

Canidy nodded. ‘‘Someday the Germans will stop it.’’

‘‘So?’’

‘‘Then what?’’

‘‘You have something in mind.’’ It was not a question. ‘‘What’s your offer, Dick?’’ he asked, his voice hardening.

‘‘We need you.’’

‘‘So?’’

‘‘So when Baker makes his offer, get all you can. His offer will include getting you out of here, home, I mean. Plus fixing things for you with the Internal Revenue Service. ’’

‘

‘And what do I have to do to get your man Baker to be so nice to me?’’ Fulmar asked, matter-of-factly.

‘‘There’s no free lunch, did I ever tell you that?’’

‘‘Thanks a lot, pal.’’

‘‘Baker will tell you.’’

‘‘I’m sure he will.’’

They sat down for lunch in the shade of some kind of flowering tree that Canidy did not recognize. Servants carried in sizzling chunks of skewered lamb, peppers, and onions. These were drawn off the skewers and laid over beds of steaming rice. There were also plates of tomatoes and mixed fruits and baskets filled with breads. The wine was Château Figeac.

El Ferruch having sent word ahead, the Americans were already seated when the pasha of Ksar es Souk arrived. He was wearing an elaborately embroidered caftan, and he was accompanied by his huge black bodyguard. A powerful man, Canidy thought to himself as he studied his host. Obviously ruthless. And my age?

After the pasha had addressed each of his guests, Baker handed him a small package.

‘‘I hope Your Excellency will honor us by accepting our gift,’’ Baker said.