39

Dawn was still far off when the medieval castle appeared in the distance, a skulking mass that occupied a small hill and ruled over a sea of blackness. It would have been invisible but for the big, gibbous moon that made its silhouette stand out against the backlit sky and gave it an ethereal shimmer that belied the grim reality of what Kamal had been told it was being used for.

He dimmed the lights of the car as he entered the forest. The smooth asphalt of the main road gave way to a rough, unpaved track that wove its way through dense woodland of beech and oak. The rough, uninhabited landscape didn’t seem like it had changed much since the days when it hosted the main pilgrimage and trade route between Paris and Chartres. Then, a couple of fersahs later, the ruins of the castle came into view: two squat, round towers, one topped by a turret; a taller, box-like keep that was missing most of its slanted roof; and a fortified wall, big chunks of its crenellated ramparts having long since crumbled away like missing teeth. As Kamal had picked up when running a quick, frantic search of his target, it had been a bustling and highly lucrative tollbooth for pilgrims and traders criss-crossing the land. No one seemed to be beating a path to its gatehouse any more. Those who did, Kamal suspected, never left.

With the car’s lights switched off completely, he guided the car by the light of the moon, gliding slowly through the thick forest until he could see the castle walls looming up ahead. Keeping a safe distance away, he stopped, backed the car into a small clearing, and killed the engine.

He opened the glove compartment and took out the standard-issue flashlight, which he checked with a quick flick while covering its lens. Then he drew his handgun, slid the safety off and climbed out.

He advanced towards the castle.

Around him, all was deathly still, but Kamal knew that kind of forest well enough to know it was anything but lifeless. Deer and wild boar would be roaming abundantly. A horrific thought reared up inside him, of bodies left out for the animals to feed on. The forest was huge and remote, an ideal place to get rid of meddlers and troublemakers—one of which he had unwittingly become.

He reached the castle walls. The moat around the fortifications was dry and overgrowing with ferns and shrubbery, but the old wooden bridge that spanned it was still standing. He crossed it cautiously, making sure his footsteps didn’t generate any sounds that might alert whoever was inside to his approach.

The inner courtyard was still. No one around, no lights on anywhere. It looked long abandoned, except for the black Kartal SUV—standard issue at the Hafiye—parked outside the entrance to the keep. At least it was on its own. He hoped that meant he wouldn’t have too many men to deal with.

Panning his gun left and right in slow sweeps, he was moving cautiously across the courtyard towards the keep’s entrance when a scream sliced through the stillness. A woman’s angry, pleading scream of ‘No!’ coming from his left, echoing out from inside a block-like tower that had a single door and no windows.

Nisreen.

He was sure of it.

He had never heard her scream like that, but he was dead certain that it was her.

The sound exploded inside his head, and he bolted towards it instantly, sprinting across the open space as fast as he could.

He burst through the doorway to the tower and immediately spotted a faint light coming from an opening to the right, down a narrow passageway, just as she yelled again. He then heard what sounded like a savage slap, followed by a man’s voice cursing loudly and the sound of cloth being ripped apart. Kamal wanted to yell out for her, wanted desperately to shout out to let her know he was there, but he held back as he flew down the passage, his pulse kicking loudly in his ears.

He charged into the room at full pace. His eyes had a split second to register what they saw: Nisreen, on the ground, half naked, straddled across the knees by a man whose face Kamal couldn’t see, the whole ghastly scene illuminated by the faint light of a gas lantern. The man had both of Nisreen’s wrists clasped in his left hand while his right hand was pulling down his trousers.

‘Stop moving, you bitch,’ the man raged, ‘or I swear I’ll—’

He didn’t finish his sentence, nor did he even register an intruder before Kamal ploughed into him, hard, shoving him off Nisreen before pummelling his head ferociously with the butt of his gun until the man was still and virtually unrecognizable.

He turned to Nisreen and scampered over to her. She was sobbing in between sharp breaths, her shaky fingers pulling up the edges of shredded clothing to cover her exposed body.

Kamal took her in his arms and hugged her tightly. ‘You’re okay, Nisreen. You’re okay.’

She went limp for no more than a second, then a frantic urgency swept across her, and she pushed him back. Her face was drawn in abject terror.

‘Ramazan, the children,’ she gasped, a desperate, pained whimper in her voice. ‘They’re here. They’ve got them.’

‘Where?’

‘I don’t know. They put hoods over our heads. But they’re here. They brought us all here.’

A sudden dread gripped him so fiercely he could barely draw breath.

‘Stay here,’ he ordered her as he scrambled out of the room.

He ran as fast as he could, down the hallway, out into the courtyard, towards the parked SUV and the entrance to the keep, a short distance that felt endless, his body at full stretch, his mind trying and failing to push away worst-case scenarios, horrific thoughts, pressure mounting in his chest and choking him, hoping against hope that he’d get there in time, that he wasn’t too late, and just as he cleared the back of the SUV and reached the door to the keep, a figure appeared in the doorway, moving casually, heading out.

The man froze at the sight of Kamal hurtling towards him. The dim moonlight masked the man’s features, but there was enough of it to expose his arm reaching for his weapon.

Kamal didn’t hesitate and pumped three rounds into his chest at full stride.

The man thudded to the ground just outside the doorway.

Kamal slowed and moved forwards cautiously, his weapon levelled ahead, his senses on high alert for any other threat.

He heard nothing at first. A portentous stillness crushed the entire hill. Then, at the edge of perception, he heard hesitant, weary footfalls behind him. He turned. Nisreen had followed him out and was now crossing the courtyard, moving slowly.

He swivelled his gaze towards the darkened doorway to the keep in front of him, his senses tingling, then back at her.

‘Stop.’

She kept walking.

‘Nisreen. Listen to me. Stop.’

Her pace slowed. Then she stopped moving.

He looked at her, his hand half-raised, softly, in a stilling gesture.

‘Wait here. Please.’

She stared at him blankly. He met her gaze, tried to telegraph something reassuring, something that more words couldn’t convey, but couldn’t come up with anything besides another ‘Please.’

She returned a small, dazed nod.

He turned away, stepped over the fallen man and entered the keep.

The doorway led to a small low-ceiling foyer that had two door openings leading deeper into the keep, one to the left and the other to the right.

There was some faint light coming from the door to his left.

It drew him in.

The room, vast and high-ceilinged, was lit by another gas lantern. A monumental stone fireplace dominated the far wall, but otherwise the room was devoid of any kind of furnishing; but that wasn’t what Kamal first noticed.

It was the barely illuminated human-shaped mounds lying on the floor by the wall to his right.

He felt his insides hollow out, felt his legs about to give, but he managed to remain upright and, inch by inch, crept towards them.

There were three figures. One of them was adult-sized, male judging by his clothing.

The other two were smaller.

Children.

Their heads were shrouded by black hoods.

None of them were moving.

His legs ignored the crippling fear that had engulfed him and kept him advancing, trance-like, until he reached them.

He bent down by one of the smaller bodies. He set the gun down on the floor and watched his arm lengthen, watched his trembling fingers reach out and touch the black hood covering the still figure’s head.

Watched them pull it back, gently.

It was Tarek. Staring back at him with wide eyes, a look of eternal fear etched across his small features.

His neck was covered with dark bruises.

Kamal’s eyes sheeted over with tears. He felt the inside of his mouth go sickeningly dry, felt his gut rushing up to his throat, but he managed to hold it back as he moved his fingers softly to the boy’s neck and, delicately, desperately, searched for a sign of life that he knew he wouldn’t find.

There was none.

Then a scream shattered the silence, a scream that Kamal would never forget—a hoarse, piercing wail that rose out of unimaginable pain and shredded the air of the cavernous room.

Kamal spun his gaze around.

Nisreen was by the door, staggering into the room, her hands raised, her fingers splayed wide, her eyes ablaze with horror, her mouth agape in a scream that was now silent.

‘No,’ Kamal rasped as he sprang to his feet and flew to her.

He caught her mid-step and swept her into his arms, blocking her advance, clasping her tightly against him while she fought him back and swatted him with desperate, weakening arms.

‘Let me go,’ she screamed, tears flooding her face. ‘Let me go to—’

‘No,’ Kamal whispered, struggling to keep hold of her. ‘No.’

‘Let me go,’ she sobbed.

Her body convulsed in his grip as she fought to free herself, her arms flailing against him, her legs kicking, her eyes drenched in tears, her mouth gasping between frenzied breaths and repeating ‘No’ over and over and over. Then the last vestiges of strength seeped away, and together they slid down to the cold stone floor, one of his arms still clamped tight around her, the other cradling the back of her head and pressing her into his chest while waves of pain crashed over them both.

They didn’t move.

Not for minutes. Not for an hour, perhaps.

All sense of time and place just disappeared, swept away by a tsunami of anguish and sorrow.

Throughout, she kept repeating the same word: ‘No’.

An eternity later, when her shaking had slowed and when her sobs had somewhat subsided, he finally, slowly pulled away. Softly, carefully, he released his grip, and without exchanging a word, he watched her rise up and stumble deeper into the room.

There, she knelt before the lifeless bodies and gently, hesitantly, she continued what he had begun.