The Unhappy New Year
A SHORT TIME LATER, the atmosphere in Bara Mephista was the exact opposite of how Cornelius Quaint was feeling. The tavern erupted in a riotous uproar, with much singing and dancing and revelry, as Sobek and his Scarabs returned. Quaint's insides were churning and his mind was doing much the same, beset by thoughts of Polly.
Sobek came over, clamping his hand onto Quaint's shoulder.
'Well, my friend, we did it!' he cheered. 'My men and I dispersed to every location. We found Nastasi's Scarabs and defeated them soundly. They never knew what hit them! Many of them had questioned Nastasi's ploy and turned away from him, so blood did not always need to be spilled. Once the balance shifted in our favour, we managed to defeat the Hades Consortium troops as a united clan.'
'And the poison?' asked Quaint.
'All the vials were destroyed,' said Sobek. He gave Quaint's ribs a nudge. 'Not bad for a bunch of thieves, eh?'
Quaint smiled. 'And what of Nastasi? I can't imagine the council will be too thrilled at his failure.'
'The Council of Elders knew nothing about it!' replied Sobek. 'It was all a ruse on Nastasi's part. He claimed to have the council's backing when he rode into Bara Mephista…but when I contacted them, they had no knowledge of such an order. They will deal with Nastasi in their own way…and it will neither be pleasant nor painless – of that you can be sure.'
'So what next? Do I call you Aksak Sobek?' smiled Quaint.
'I await the council's decision…but Rakmun appealed for me and as the former Aksak's kin, that goes a long way,' Sobek said, staring out into the desert flatlands. 'Maybe we Clan Scarabs have outgrown the old ways. None of us are young men any more…and few of us have families or loved ones to speak of. Perhaps it is time that we considered the future. Your influence no doubt, eh?' he said with a heavy slap on Quaint's back.
Rakmun strolled out of the scorched tavern and joined them. The young Scarab caught Sobek's eye and the larger man understood, making his way back into the tavern with a nod. Quaint turned to Rakmun, an expectant smile on his face.
'My brother, Cornelius…he sacrificed so much to save me from Godfrey Joyce's prison…and I never even got the chance to say thank you,' began the young Scarab. 'Many times I thought that help would not come. That I would die down there in that stinking cell and no one would even know. And then I would think of Faroud and I knew he would come for me. He should have known that he was risking everything by trying to free me. Yet it did not stop him.'
'Your brother was one of the most courageous men I have ever known, Rakmun. It was an honour to fight by his side,' said Quaint.
'I shall miss him, Cornelius.'
'As will I, Rakmun…as will I.'
'And now what of you?' asked Rakmun. 'I hear you are leaving.'
Quaint nodded. 'For Cairo, straight away.'
'I cannot convince you to stay and enjoy the revelry?'
'Not this time. Something has come up and I need to return to England immediately. I just have to make a little stop in Hosni first,' replied Quaint.
'Hosni?' Rakmun asked. 'What takes you to that place?'
'A tricky situation of the female variety,' smiled Quaint.
'Well, I wish you luck, Cornelius. If ever you are passing Bara Mephista again, our tavern door will always be open for you. And before I forget…Happy New Year!' Rakmun said, grasping Quaint's hand.