The Keep

As laughter started from the black uniforms, the face of the regular army man turned a bright red. Woerma

As he reached the bottom landing, he saw the door to the Jews' suite swing shut behind a flash of skirt fabric, then he was out in the courtyard facing a full-scale brawl. He had to fire his pistol twice to get the men's attention and had to threaten to shoot the next one who threw a punch before the fighting actually stopped.

The girl had to go.

As things quieted down, Woerma

He did not bother to knock this time, but pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Fräulein Cuza!"

The old man was still sitting at the table; the girl was nowhere in sight. "What do you want with her?"

He ignored the father. "Fräulein Cuza!"

"Yes?" she said, stepping out of the rear room, her face anxious.

"I want you packed to leave for the i

"But I can't leave my father!"

"Two minutes and you are leaving, with or without your things!"

He would not be swayed, and he hoped his face showed it. He did not like to separate the girl and her father—the professor obviously needed care and she obviously was devoted to caring for him—but the men under his command came first, and she was a disruptive influence. The father would have to remain in the keep; the daughter would have to stay in the i

Woerma

"You now have a minute and a half," Woerma

"A minute and a half for what?" said a voice behind him. It was Kaempffer.

Groaning inwardly and readying himself for a battle of wills, Woerma

"Your timing is superb as usual, Major," he said. "I was just telling Fräulein Cuza to pack her things and move herself over to the i

Kaempffer opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the professor.

"I forbid it!" he cried in his dry, shrill voice. "I will not permit you to send my daughter away!"

Kaempffer's eyes narrowed as his attention was drawn from Woerma

"Youforbid, old Jew?" Kaempffer said in a hoarse voice as he moved past Woerma

The old man bowed his head in resignation.

Satisfied with the result of his vented anger, Kaempffer turned back to Woerma

Dazed and bemused, Woerma

"Why didn't you protest before the major arrived?" Woerma

"Perhaps. But I changed my mind."

"So I noticed—and in a most provocative ma

"My dear Captain," Cuza said, his tone serious, "no one pays much attention to a cripple. People look at the body and see that it's wrecked by an accident or wasted by illness, and they automatically carry the infirmity to the mind within that body. 'He can't walk, therefore he can't have anything intelligent or useful or interesting to say.' So a cripple like me soon learns how to make other people come up with an idea he has already thought of, and to have them arrive at that idea in such a way that they believe it originated with them. It's not manipulation—it's a form of persuasion."

As Magda emerged from the rear room, suitcase in hand, Woerma

"I'm going to leave you at the i

He did not add that it would be courting a riot to decide which soldiers would do guard duty on her—competition for the double benefit of separation from the keep and proximity to an attractive female would further widen the existing rift between the two contingents of soldiers. He had no choice but to trust her.

A look passed between father and daughter.

"Have no fear, Captain," Magda said, glaring at her father. "I have no intention of ru

He watched the professor's hands bunch into two thick, angry fists.

"You'd better take this," Cuza said, pushing one of the books toward her, the one he had called the Al Azif. "Study it tonight so we can discuss it tomorrow."

There was a trace of mischief in her smile. "You know I don't read Arabic, Papa." She picked up another, slimmer volume. "I think I'll take this one instead."

They stared at each other across the table. They were at an impasse of wills, and Woerma

Without warning, Magda stepped around the table and kissed her father on the cheek. She smoothed his sparse white hairs, then straightened up and looked Woerma

"Take care of my father, Captain. Please. He's all I have."

Woerma

He cursed himself. He shouldn't have said that! It went against all his officer training, all his Prussian rearing. But there was that look in her eyes that made him want to do as she asked. He had no daughter of his own, but if he had he would want her to care about him the way this girl cared about her father.

No ... he had no need to worry about her ru

The red-haired man sent his mount plunging through the foothills toward the southeast entrance to the Dinu Pass. The greening terrain around him went by u

He was about to congratulate himself on avoiding the many military patrols in the area when he spotted two soldiers up ahead blocking his path with ready rifles and fixed bayonets. Rearing his mount to a halt before the pair, he quickly decided on a course of action—he wanted no trouble, so he would play it meek and mild.