the stakes were very high. So high that he could not risk being caught in possession of his amulet. He did not need it to make the comparison, however. He knew the stones intimately, and would easily recognise their counterparts.
The guard dressed in the royal livery of crimson and white was not the same man as before, but he was of the same gigantic proportions. This time, however, there was no restraining paw forbidding him entry, but a respectful bow upon receipt of Christopher’s written permission bearing the royal seal, before a curtain was pulled back to permit him to gain entrance.
The trade in precious stones was carried out in a large room on the top floor of the bazaar. Light streamed through a huge window in the ceiling, dazzling the eyes at first. There were four booths, each furnished with a low table, a scatter of cushions, and a specialist in the various gems in which they traded. ‘Emerald,’ the assistant who met him at the door informed Christopher, ‘ruby, sapphire and other stones, and over here, diamonds.’
Caution prevailed. He opted first for emeralds, drinking the obligatory glass of mint tea before inspecting the trays of stones which were so reverently placed in front of him. The emeralds were of excellent quality, very large, and of no interest to him whatsoever. He turned them over, held them up to the light, and discussed their various qualities at length, mustering his growing impatience. Finally, with what he hoped was the correct blend of condescension and regret, he informed the emerald vendor that his future wife had blue eyes and fair hair, colouring which would by no means complement these marvellous stones. Thinking that actually, diamonds were more perfectly suited to a woman with night-black hair, olive skin and big brown eyes, Christopher got to his feet and moved on.
Sitting down, he accepted another glass of mint tea. As the merchant pulled out the first velvet-lined tray from the locked cabinet, Christopher’s heart began to beat wildly, his stomach muscles clenched tight. There were just three stones on the tray, but they were sufficient for him to know, even without closer examination, deep down in his gut, that they were a perfect match.
* * *
‘You did what?’ The blood drained from Tahira’s face. She stared at Christopher in horror. ‘It’s not possible. To get into the diamond market one requires permission from Prince Ghutrif himself.’
‘Which he very generously granted me. Or at least, granted my alter ego.’
She swayed, clutching his sleeve. ‘If it is discovered that you impersonated this English man, Prince Ghutrif would...’
‘Prince Ghutrif is only interested in the prospect of more wealthy Englishmen buying Nessarah diamonds.’
‘You promised him that?’ Tahira’s voice was almost a wail. ‘You must leave Nessarah at once.’
‘You’re being ridiculous.’ Christopher gave her a little shake. ‘I haven’t met Prince Ghutrif, he has no idea what I look like, where I am camped, and what’s more he doesn’t care.’
‘But then how did you...?’
‘I have a local man, a contact, who acted as my intermediary. I passed myself off as a wealthy English aristocrat. Rather successfully, I might add.’
Tahira’s alarmed expression turned to one of puzzlement. ‘A contact? You have used that word before. What kind of contact?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Christopher said impatiently, ‘what matters is...’
‘That you have put not only yourself but this contact in mortal danger by dint of your deception.’
‘Tahira, I don’t know why you’re getting so...’
‘Angry? Frightened? No, actually I’m terrified. No matter how important this amulet to you is, it cannot be more important than your life.’
‘You’re quite wrong. Until I am rid of it, I have no life worth living.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘You can’t mean that.’
He could. He did. But he was not inclined to explain himself. ‘You’re missing the point,’ Christopher said. ‘I succeeded in gaining entry to the diamond market. I managed to compare...’
‘Are you a spy?’
‘What?’
‘Are you here on English government business?’
‘No.’ But the denial was unconvincing, even to himself. He didn’t want to lie to her. ‘There is a man in the English government who has supplied me with papers and contacts.’
‘By the stars, you are a spy. Do you—what are you—have you been spying on me?’ She was quite pale, her eyes huge.
‘Why on earth would I do that?’
She licked her lips, but did not speak.
‘I’ve thought of it,’ Christopher admitted. ‘I’ve thought of following you home. It would be simple enough, to find out who you are, who your family are. It is not lack of curiosity which has prevented me from doing so but respect for you. You have chosen to keep your identity a secret. So be it. I promise you, Tahira, spying is not my business, surveying is. The truth is, I needed the papers to facilitate my quest, to help me move around freely, gain entry to places such as the diamond market, and even to get me out of hot water if necessary, so I persuaded a man at the Foreign Office to procure them for me.’
‘Persuaded.’ Tahira’s colour had returned. ‘What did he want in return? Because such men always have a price. We have a saying. “You shake my olive tree and I will shake yours.”’
He couldn’t help but laugh, though he also couldn’t help but wonder how she came by her knowledge. What men did she know? He’d assumed her family were at least moderately wealthy, but clearly they also had some influence. More questions he couldn’t ask. ‘You’re quite right. He wanted information. Nothing sinister, I assure you. Trade opportunities, which kingdoms would be open to it, what they would trade in, that kind of thing. Information that would be of mutual benefit to Britain and whichever Arabian kingdom engaged with them.’
‘And beneficial to the man at your Foreign Office who facilitated bringing the two parties together.’
‘Indeed. You are most astute.’
Tahira shrugged. ‘I know of such men. Who is he, this man at the Foreign Office, how do you come to know him?’
‘Let us say that our meeting was an accident, and leave it at that. My report will give him what he wants, what we agreed, but it will fall a long way sort of all the information I have garnered,’ Christopher said. ‘Arabia is an untapped treasure trove of minerals and ores. That most valuable information I’ll be keeping to myself.’
‘You know you could make your fortune by selling it?’
‘And you know I won’t. You still haven’t asked me the outcome of my act of derring-do.’
He was relieved to see her smile again, her suspicions and fears giving way to excitement. ‘Well?’
‘The diamonds are an exact match!’
‘Oh, Christopher!’ Tahira threw her arms around his neck, her expression, in the light
