The shout came again, sharp and distinct: "Aedan!"
I stood stump-still and listened. If I was not certain I had heard it the first time, I heard it clearly now, and I began searching the busy marketplace for whoever had called me. Though the square teemed with people, no one paid the slightest attention to me. Well, the market was so noisy, I might have imagined it after all; I made to continue on my way, following the amir and Faysal about the chore of procuring supplies. Yet, even as I turned to hasten after them, out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed the slight, wizened figure of Amet, the magus I had consulted in Trebizond.
He moved towards me, holding up his hands in a peculiar gesture of greeting-as if he feared I would flee him before he could reach me. I hastened to join him, but before I took three strides, a herd of goats moved between us and suddenly I was surrounded by the bleating animals.
Amet stopped. Gazing intently at me across a distance of fifty paces, his hands still raised, palms outward in his peculiar greeting, he called out; his mouth moved, but his words were swallowed by the din of the market and the nattering of the goats.
Cupping a hand to my ear, I shouted, "What did you say?"-whereupon he repeated his call. I heard him no better the second time, and was only able to make out a single word: Sebastea.
"I cannot hear you!" I shouted, and started towards him once again, shoving my way through the goat herd, only to have him taken from my sight by a man leading three horses. They passed before me, man and horses, and when I stepped forward again Amet was gone.
I rushed to the place where he had been standing, but the little magus was nowhere to be seen. "Amet!" I cried.
His voice came to me one last time, but further away. "Come to Sebastea, Aedan! Sebastea…"
Nowhere among the mass of bodies pressing all around was Amet to be found. I called his name again, but received no reply. He had vanished so completely that I quickly doubted whether I had seen him at all. Making a last inspection of the square, I turned and hurried after Faysal and the amir, who were talking to a man standing beside a wagon loaded with sacks of grain.
I quickly rejoined them, taking my place behind Faysal just as Sadiq struck a bargain with the man for his wagonload of barley. While Faysal told the man where to deliver the grain, Sadiq turned his attention to the other matter on his mind: finding an escort to take Kazimain back to Samarra.
"The shaykh of this place will know men I can trust," Sadiq said.
"Lord Amir," I said, "if I may be so bold as to suggest-" I hesitated.
"Yes?" demanded the amir in a distracted way, his eyes searching the marketplace. "What? What? Speak."
"-to suggest that Kazimain should be allowed to continue the journey with us."
Amir Sadiq's eyes shifted to me; his mouth twitched into an instant frown. "Continue with us," he said, his voice leaden, "to Byzantium?"
"Yes," I replied, and could feel the resistance rise up within him.
But before he could draw breath to refuse me, Faysal spoke up, "Lord, if you please, this is the very thing I have been thinking."
Sadiq's baleful eyes swung from me to Faysal. "You are both mad." He turned abruptly. "It cannot be allowed."
"I believe she could be of great use to us," I persisted. "It may be that-"
"No," the amir said, moving away, "I have spoken and the matter is concluded."
"Lord," implored Faysal, "please reconsider. Kazimain is shrewd and resourceful, as we know. We know not what manner of reception we will face in Byzantium, and-"
"Precisely!" said the amir, rounding on us. "The very reason I cannot allow her to remain even a moment longer than necessary." Sadiq stopped abruptly. He pressed a hand to his temple and squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying very hard to think of something he had forgotten.
A strange apprehension came over Faysal's features as he stood looking on. "Amir?" he said softly.
"It is nothing-the sun," Sadiq muttered; his face had lost some of its colour and his voice its strength. "Let us finish and return to camp."
Thus was Lord Sadiq determined and there was no changing his mind. One of the merchants in the market pointed out the shaykh, and Sadiq sought his counsel in hiring trustworthy men to escort Kazimain. The two conferred, money changed hands, and that was the end of it.
Along with dry provisions of various kinds, the amir also bought a herd of sheep and some goats, three camels, and a wagon. That evening, as the supplies which had been delivered were being packed away in the wagon, I overheard Faysal and Kazimain talking in hushed, urgent voices.
I joined them and heard Faysal saying, "…they are to come for you in the morning. The shaykh has pledged the life of his son for your protection, and-" He broke off at my approach.
"I am sorry, Kazimain," I said. "The amir would not be persuaded. Still, perhaps it is for the best. I would feel better if I knew you were safe."
"For the best!" she snapped. The fire in her dark eyes died as quickly as it flared. "You will remember that it is not for your sake that I sought to continue this journey, but for the amir's alone. He is not well."
Her concern mystified me. Though I did not doubt its sincerity, I could not credit its cause. "So you have said," I granted. "But I see no evidence of any illness. He seems to me as much himself as ever." I shrugged, and looked to Faysal for confirmation. "Is this not so?"
"No, it is not so," she replied in a tone that indicated this should have been self-evident. Helpless against such overwhelming ignorance, Kazimain also appealed to Faysal. "Tell him!"
"Kazimain believes the amir was injured," Faysal explained, "at the mine-when his horse fell and rolled on him." With a light lift of his shoulders, he said, "Lord Sadiq denies anything is wrong."
There was no persuading Kazimain, and she would not be consoled. The unintentional dispute left a sour taste in my mouth, so I walked around the camp for a while to think what I might do, eventually settling with the Britons as Dugal and Brynach prepared a meal. Sadiq had determined that each of the separate parties of our company would fare better if they did their own cooking, thus relieving the Arabs of the duty. Brynach raised his eyes from the pot as I settled myself against a rock. "No doubt I have seen a more woeful countenance," he remarked, returning to his stirring, "but I do not remember when."
Ddewi, squatting nearby and tracing lines in the dust with his finger, lifted his head and laughed at Bryn's small jest. Noticing my surprise, Brynach said, "He seems to be getting better." Raising his voice, he called, "Aye, Ddewi? I say you are feeling a little better now." Ddewi had returned to his reverie and made no sign that he had heard or understood. "But you, Brother Aidan," the Briton continued, "seem a little worse. What is wrong?"
I made to dismiss his question with a shrug and a smile. "I saw a man today who was not there. A curious thing, nothing more."
"Indeed?" Brynach's eyebrows arched with interest, but he kept on stirring. "Have you ever seen him before?"
"Aidan is always seeing things," proclaimed Dugal, arriving with an armful of brushy twigs for the fire. "He has dreams and visions, and such."