meant by it. Was he still concerned for Iuda’s health? Or was he simply giving a warning that they would not be alone for long? Iuda would not need long.
He stepped forward and put his hand over the man’s mouth, pushing him back towards the wall. He felt the man try to resist, and lifted him upwards, revelling in his returned strength. The man’s feet scraped and tapped on the floor, but could find no purchase. He hit the wall with a thud and began to scream, but the sound was muffled by Iuda’s hand. His arms flailed, beating against Iuda’s sides and back, but with no effect.
Iuda bit. His primary purpose was still sustenance, but he now felt confident in his abilities. A hungry man might rush the appetizer of his first meal, but he would allow time to relish the main course. He sealed his lips over the wound he had just inflicted and allowed the blood to pump into him, as though his mouth, oesophagus and stomach had become an extension of the man’s circulation, a one-directional extension that took blood and did not return it. Iuda knew that at this moment his victim would share something of his mind. He tried to make it clear that there was no hope of survival.
Soon the blows from the man’s fists became more feeble, his screams turned into gasps for breath. Within a minute he was unconscious; within two, dead. Iuda was replete. Now a different weakness took him – not the powerlessness of the starved, but the lethargy of the glutted.
‘It must be down here.’
The voice came from outside, at the top of the stairs. There were at least two of them. Iuda could probably have dealt with them, but was in no mood. He let the drained body drop to the floor and headed for the other flight of stairs, the one that went down to the dungeons. He stepped through the archway and examined the door. The lock had been smashed, probably not long before, when the cellars had finally been broken into. Fortunately the door itself was intact.
He slid the bolts across as quietly as he could. They would find the two bodies in moments, and he did not want to leave any clue that the killer was near at hand. For the moment he was trapped in the cellars, almost as he had been trapped in that one dungeon for fourteen long months. This time it would only be until sunset. Once the sun was down he would make his way through the tunnels that led down to the Moskva, and then he would be able once again to walk the city’s streets.
He had lain down and slept, and when evening had come, he had been free, and had continued to be free for twenty years.
And now, as he sat strapped to the wooden chair in Geok Tepe from which he had been unable to move for three years, he wondered if he might soon be free again. He maintained his gaze into Dmitry’s eyes, searching for some hint of what was to come.
Dmitry spoke.
CHAPTER III
‘SHALL WE CONDUCT this interview in english?’ Dmitry asked. There was little chance that anyone in the chamber beneath Geok Tepe would understand the subject matter of their conversation, whatever language they spoke, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep it from them.
‘I didn’t know you spoke English,’ replied Iuda.
‘I’ve travelled since we last met. One picks these things up.’
Dmitry wondered just how well he really spoke the language; how thick his accent was. Iuda would be the man to know. He was, when it came down to it, an Englishman – although that had been a long time ago.
‘I can imagine,’ said Iuda.
Dmitry did not want to waste time.
‘As you’ll have realized,’ he continued, ‘I need you alive. So tell me – what other traps are there?’
‘You’ve seen it,’ said Iuda. ‘There’s the sunlight,’ he attempted to jerk his head upwards, but the strap across his forehead still restrained him, ‘and the guillotine. The guards all used to carry wooden stakes, but one of them got the jitters – tried to kill me out of pure fear. He got close, but I managed to deal with him.’ He grinned and ran his tongue across his teeth to clarify the point.
‘So they gave that up?’
Iuda tried to nod. Dmitry suspected it was a pretence – after so long he should have been used to his immobility. What he thought to