The Bones of the Old Ones (Dabir and Asim) Read Free Page B

me through a number of back streets. I do not think Koury could follow.”
    “Let us hope.” Dabir looked as if he might say more, then asked, “How many pursue you?”
    “In the square there was only Koury and two of his men. I did not see Gazi,” she added. “But Koury’s guards are incredibly strong. And there is something odd about them.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “They dress all in black and their faces are hooded. They do not speak.”
    Dabir sat back and played with the band of his ring. And I studied Najya, mulling over her peculiar story. I could not fathom why someone would kidnap a Persian beauty, take her to a distant city, and command her to search for a skeleton, yet her very manner marked her as a speaker of truth.
    “I think it best if you stay hidden for a while,” Dabir decided. “Please consider this your home until we can arrange for safe escort to Isfahan.”
    She started to protest, but Dabir cut her off. “This is very important, Najya. Have your husband or family ever had dealings with magic, or its practitioners?”
    I saw her lips part beneath her veil. After a moment, she shook her head. “No. I don’t think so.”
    “Have you ever heard of the Sebitti?”
    Again she shook her head. “No. Why?”
    “It’s an old group with warrior wizards named Gazi and Koury. But I do not think it can be them.” Dabir said that last almost to himself. “Buthayna, see that she is given the guest suite, and please find a servant to attend her. One who can be trusted not to gossip, for our guest’s location must be secret.”
    While the cook curtly acknowledged Dabir’s directives, I groaned inwardly. There was little more in the suite than a mattress and an old chest. It was hardly fitting accommodation for a noblewoman.
    “You have been very kind,” Najya said, rising.
    “It is nothing,” Dabir assured her. “Give me leave to look into the matter. You will be safe here, this I swear.”
    “I would like to send word to my brother, in Isfahan,” Najya told him.
    “Certainly. Buthayna, see that she has what she needs, and have Rami ask after a caravan bound there. He can start at the Bright Moon.”
    “Yes, Honored One.” Buthayna rose stiffly and led the way through the curtain.
    Najya turned to look back at us once more, then bowed her head and followed Buthayna.
    “Who are these Sebitti?” I asked quietly as their steps receded. “I have never heard you mention them.”
    “Why should I speak of fables?” Dabir frowned. “A mentor—a friend, really—was fascinated with them, and I recall only the broadest details.” He shook his head. “I just don’t understand why a ring of murderers and kidnappers would name two of their members after them. These aren’t common names.”
    I felt a growing sense of unease. “You haven’t answered my question.”
    Dabir’s expression was still troubled. “You have heard of the Seven Wise Men?” he asked. “The Seven Sages?”
    “Aye. Who has not?” They were famed for their knowledge of all matters, both arcane and mundane, and legend held that folk in need, if they be of pure intent, could find them to ask advice.
    “They are the Sebitti.”
    “I’ve never heard them called by that name.”
    “It is from old Ashur. Their legend was born in that ancient time.”
    “So these kidnappers have taken the names of wise men?” Now I understood Dabir’s confusion, and laughed. “If they meant to intimidate, wouldn’t they assume a more frightening alias?”
    “I think you’re confusing wise with good. The people of Ashur, brutal as they were, dared speak of the Sebitti only in whispers.”
    I had learned a little of the folk of Ashur, who some call the Assyrians, and knew they had been a warrior people, ruled by blood-mad kings. Anyone who they feared must be dangerous indeed. Thus I began to feel a vague foreboding. “Why?” I asked.
    Dabir’s voice was grim. “They believed that when the lord of the underworld grew