In the Eye of the Storm (Storm and Silence 2)

The dark brown haze around us lightened again, and we could see the faint outline of a human-camel hybrid a few dozen yards away.

‘Youssef? Is that you?’

The human detached himself from his camel. ‘Ambrose Effendi? You are alive?’

‘Of course!’ Mr Ambrose made a dismissive noise and waved his hand. ‘I told you, a little bit of sand couldn’t stand in my way.’

Youssef’s eyes flicked from Mr Ambrose to me and back again. Underneath the sand-caped cloth covering his face, the Egyptian opened his mouth to say something - then closed it again, and bowed his head. ‘Yes, Effendi. As you say, Effendi.’

Behind Mr Ambrose, I got to my feet and, pointing to him, rolled my eyes. Then I made a very expressive gesture involving my forefinger being energetically tapped against the side of my head. Youssef was still wearing a cloth over his face, but underneath, I thought I could see something twitch. The corners of a mouth, maybe.

‘Wait until the sandstorm has died down, then send out scouts to find the others.’

‘Yes, Effendi. They will not have gone far. They know that during a sandstorm, it is safest to stay put and seek shelter.’

I might have imagined it, but I thought there was just the tiniest bit of emphasis on the ‘they’ in that sentence. Before Mr Ambrose had a chance to comment on it, Youssef turned and vanished around a dune.

‘And find that infernal camel of mine!’ Mr Ambrose shouted after him.

It was only a quarter of an hour later that Youssef returned, all the men and camels in tow. They looked a little dusty, but none the worse for wear.

‘All present and correct, Effendi,’ he said, saluting. ‘And there’s one thing more.’

Mr Ambrose halted in the process of checking the saddlebags of his errant camel. ‘Yes?’

‘We spotted a troop of soldiers from afar.’

‘Soldiers?’

‘Egyptians and English, Effendi. Although there may have been some French, too. It was difficult to make out from a distance.’

English, French, and Egyptians?

I froze. Could it be…? No, it couldn’t!

But it has to be! It has to be him!

So Captain Carter had set out into the desert after all. I didn’t say anything, and was careful not to make any sudden movements. After all, Mr Ambrose didn’t know anything about Captain Carter. And I didn’t think right now would be the right time to inform him. Neither would next week be. Or next year. Or ever, to tell the truth.

Slowly, he turned towards Youssef. I only had to take one look at the cold glint in his eyes to know I had been right not to say a word.

‘What are they doing here?’

Youssef shrugged. ‘I couldn’t say, Effendi.’

‘How many?’

‘At least a hundred, Effendi. Probably more in the surrounding countryside. What I saw looked like one detachment of a larger force.’

Without moving his head, Mr Ambrose threw a sideways look at Karim. ‘Your assessment?’

The huge bodyguard reached up to tug thoughtfully at his beard - then grasped only air and scowled. ‘They’re here to take care of the bandits.’

‘Yes… and probably not in the way I wish it to be done. Youssef? How much chance do they have of catching up with us?’

‘None.’ The Arab smiled a brilliant white smile, sharp and crooked like an ivory sabre. ‘Some have camels, but most of the men are either on foot or on horseback, particularly the English. Those riders will soon be on foot, too, when their horses collapse from exhaustion and die.’

Oops…