"Perhaps," I suggested, turning to another subject on my mind, "you might offer me your thoughts on the Armenians. I know nothing of them, and my views may well be clouded by recent events."
"Ah," replied Farouk, glancing around quickly, "for that I would need to gather my thoughts. Come, I will take you back to your room." He rose and we began following another pathway. "It is no secret," he began once we were moving again, "that the Armenians came to us seeking refuge from the wicked persecutions practised upon them by unenlightened emperors in the west-refuge which the Arab lords were happy to grant as the Armenians asked nothing save to be left alone to practise their peculiar religion. In return for safety and tolerance, they vowed to regard the enemies of the khalifa as their own, and to fight shoulder-to-shoulder with their Sarazen brothers. This they have done ever since.
"But in recent years, they have grown, shall we say, discontented?" Farouk's glance searched the nearby shadows. "It has been suggested that they no longer feel the protection of the khalifa adequate reparation for their travails."
"Perhaps they believe peace between the Sarazens and the Byzantines threatens the safety they have previously enjoyed."
"Again, my friend," Farouk said, smiling and nodding, "you have captured the matter with admirable brevity and concision. Yes, they fear the peace will bring the renewal of hostilities against them."
Despite the physician's smiles, a sense of dread settled over me. I could see that anyone seeking to thwart the plans of both emperor and caliph could not have contrived a more masterful stroke: an attack on the emperor's envoy together with the rumour that the Sarazens would not abide the peace treaty effectively crushed any hope of peace between the two long-warring empires. If, however, the true source of the treachery could be revealed-and I was certain Nikos was deeply involved-the fragile peace plan might yet be salvaged.
But who held the power to accomplish this feat? The caliph, of course, and perhaps the amir-armed with the information I had provided-could effectively expose the treachery. Anyway, I thought with some small comfort, it was well out of my hands.
"I thank you," I said, "for speaking so forthrightly about these matters. But, forgive me if I speak bluntly, why have you told me these things?"
"Men in positions of influence must often make important decisions," he observed blandly. "The best decisions are those which flow from true understanding. And, as I said before, you deserve a proper accounting."
"Once again, you have rendered your patient valuable service. Now, I think, I must concentrate whatever small abilities and resources I possess in helping free my friends and brothers who remain slaves in the mines."
"A worthy ambition, to be sure," confirmed Farouk. "I commend you to your task. Still," he stopped walking and turned to me, "I feel I must warn you, that path, should you choose it, is fraught with difficulty. Amir Sadiq has implied as much, and he is right. Nevertheless, he has given you his promise and a more valuable commodity would be difficult to imagine."
"Please, do not think me ungracious," I replied, "but my ignorance prevents me from grasping the nature of the difficulty you describe."
"The principal obstacle, I believe, lies in the manner which Faysal employed to free you."
"He killed the overseer."
"So I understand." We turned then, and I found that we were moving towards the palace once more. "Naturally, such extreme methods, however warranted, often have the effect of complicating matters far beyond our abilities to appreciate at the time."
I accepted what Farouk said, although I was beginning to grow weary of everyone telling me what difficult times we lived in and how I must be patient. I seemed always on the receiving end of such advice, but never in a position to give it. That, I thought, would have to change before I began to get my way.
My kindly physician returned me to my room then, and I rested through the heat of the day, rising when I heard footsteps in the corridor. Kazimain came into my room expecting me to be asleep. She started when, raising her eyes from the tray in her hands, she saw me standing beside the bed. Curiously, she blushed; colour seeped into her cheeks and throat and she hastened to place the tray on the low wooden tripod. She then turned and departed abruptly, leaving me with the distinct impression that I had spoiled a surprise.
I called after her to wait, knowing she would understand nothing of what I said. As expected, she paid no heed; I listened until her footsteps could no longer be heard, and then went to the door and looked out. Though I could easily be mistaken, I believe I saw her face at the far end of the corridor-just the side of her face, peering around the corner…she disappeared the instant I stepped from the room.
I ate some fruit from the tray, and drank the sweet drink from the golden cup, and sat upon my bed pondering what such odd behaviour could mean. I was thus occupied when I heard footsteps in the corridor. This time, I remained seated, waiting for Kazimain to enter when she would. It was not Kazimain who came to me, however, but Faysal, and he brought with him a slender young man with short curly hair and large sad eyes. The young man was dressed in simple white trousers and a short sleeveless tunic; he was barefoot, and his right foot was tattooed with a strange blue mark.
Faysal greeted me respectfully and remarked on my recovery. He then presented the barefoot young man to me saying, "This is Mahmoud. He is to be your teacher." At my inquiring glance, he explained: "The noble Sadiq believes you to be a man of intelligence. Further, it is the amir's belief that you will accede more swiftly to your rightful rank within his household once you are master of your own words. To this end, he has determined that you are to speak like a civilized man from now on."
"The amir is too kind," I replied, my heart sinking at the prospect of having to learn yet another language.
"Be of good cheer, my friend," Faysal told me. "Mahmoud is a master of many tongues. He will soon have you speaking like a true son of the desert."
"Again," I replied, my enthusiasm flagging, "I am in the amir's debt. I will look forward to beginning tomorrow."
"The day is not so far spent that you must defer your pleasure," Faysal countered. "Now is the propitious hour for new beginnings."
"As you will," I said, yielding to Faysal's suggestion. Turning to the young man, I indicated the cushions on the floor. "Please, be seated. Let us begin."
Mahmoud bowed slightly from the waist and folded himself onto a cushion, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knees. "It is an honour for me to instruct you, A'dan," he told me in singing Greek. "My mother was from Thessalonika, thus I have an affinity for the speech of my earliest memory. I think we shall prosper together." He waited for me to ease myself into a sitting position on a cushion, and then said, "We begin."
With this, Mahmoud began saying the letters of the Greek alphabet, interposing them with their Arabic counterparts. Faysal watched for a moment, then left the room with a smile of satisfaction on his face. Thus began a long and arduous grappling for mastery of what must be the world's most insidious speech. Wonderfully fluid and subtle, it is nonetheless fiendishly difficult to utter for one not born to it.
I might have despaired ever succeeding, but from the beginning I determined that I stood a far better chance of rescuing my friends, and taking revenge on Nikos, if I could speak Arabic. It was to Gunnar and Dugal, then, and for vengeance sake, that I dedicated my efforts. Curiously, this determination took hold in me and produced an unexpected result. For as I dwelt on it over the following days, I began to feel different within myself. This feeling festered like a boil on my soul until it suddenly burst. I remember the very moment it happened. I was standing on the roof as the sun went down on another hot, wearisome day; I was watching the dusky reds and lavenders of the sky deepen towards night, and I suddenly thought: I will be a slave no more.