The sage Elelli stepped in front of them. He was accompanied by the diviner Yazzal, who said, as if continuing the unfinished conversation: “Your arrogance has worked against you. If only you had accepted a bite to eat from people, the finger of suspicion would not be pointed at you now.”
He replied immediately, as if to reconfirm their ongoing conversation: “I think people will continue to point accusing fingers, even if we accept a morsel of food from them.”
“The morsel is a balm. A piece of food is an amulet that drives away insinuations and safeguards people against other people’s evil. Believe me.”
“People are naturally inclined to look for a scapegoat.”
“But there’s no question that people repeat with conviction the saying that a man who refuses food people offer is a man who fears people and that a man who fears people is frightening.”
“Why should people fear a man who doesn’t care to eat with other folks?”
“Because they feel sure he is a strategist; because they’re certain he’s hiding some scheme up his sleeve.”
“Scheme?”
“Yes, indeed. According to local custom, abstention is a scheme. Withdrawal from society is always considered a conspiracy by customary law.”
The strategist exhaled generously in preparation for wading into a no-holds-barred debate, but the appearance of the tribe’s chief, accompanied by the fool, made it difficult to continue and made the group feel uneasy. So he swallowed his argument, preferring to remain silent.
3 The Case for the Defense
The tribe’s chief, in any case, did not go easy on him. Leaning on his staff, which was inscribed with mysterious markings, he confronted the stranger, asking him bluntly, “Doesn’t the son of foreigners realize that there are no hiding places for secrets in our world?”
Sensing the threat implied by these words, he decided to attack as welclass="underline" “Explain!”
“You were seen scattering a suspicious powder into the spring. Do you deny it?”
“Ha, ha. . Even a true accusation requires substantiation; so what about a false one?”
Ewar’s veil dangled open to reveal the smallpox scars on both cheeks. He raised the end to fasten it beside his nose before he declared curtly, “There are witnesses.”
He gestured toward the fool, and Edahi took a step forward and then a second one. On finding himself in the circle of nobles, he trembled and looked down at the ground. Then he said, “I saw you swimming in the spring at dawn. Before you left, I saw you scatter an herb over the pool, or something like an herb.”
A murmur spread through the crowd. Some men exchanged words and others glances. A second circle composed of vendors, nosey parkers, and the general public formed around the first one. The strategist felt more threatened by being trapped inside this mob than by the accusation. Like any alien, he felt alone, on his own; not merely alone in the market or in the oasis, but in the whole desert too. He had a deadly sense of being abandoned for all time, from cradle to grave. This feeling motivated him to mount his own defense, for who would defend a forsaken man, unless he did so himself?
He decided to mount a strategic defense, using his mastery of the tongue to bait the accuser. “Our master has thrust in front of me a creature who has flung an accusation in my face. Could my master tell me to which community my accuser belongs?”
Ewar waved his stick in the air twice, pointing toward the fool, and then without delay replied, “The accuser is the fool. Amazing! Didn’t he just recite his accusation for you?”
The strategist responded with cunning malice: “He actually did recite the accusation, but you’re the only one I’ve ever heard say that he’s a fool.”
“What does that mean?”
The strategist ignored this question, however, and proceeded a step further with his interrogation: “I would like to ask whether ‘fool’ is the man’s name or an epithet like any other.”
“ ‘Fool’ is an epithet. We all know that the fool’s name is Edahi and that idiocy is a trait attributed to the wretch.”
“If our master has admitted in front of this crowd that the fool actually is a fool and not merely called one, then what law leads the elders to think that a fool’s testimony constitutes evidence?”
People became restless and agitated. Heads bumped against each other, and laughter was heard among the common folk. Ewar fiddled with his veil once more to disguise his manifest discomfort. In a tone that indicated that he had lost his self-confidence, he asked, “What?”
“You said that the person who saw me release what you term a suspect powder was the one you call ‘the fool.’ You have also just admitted that the fool actually is an idiot and not merely called that. So what sense does it make to consider the testimony of an idiot as evidence?”
“But he’s a fool unlike any other. Everyone knows that Edahi is unique among fools.”
“Ha, ha. . The fool’s a fool. The fool’s a fool in all respects, at all times, in all tribes, and in every language.”
“I trust the testimony of this fool more than I do that of the noblest elder in this oasis. What do you think about that?”
“Ha, ha. . This is according to our master, not according to the Law. Our master can believe anyone he wishes. Our master can believe the fool to end all fools even more than the wisest elder, but the Law acknowledges only the intellect’s sovereignty over the world. The Law says: ‘Death isn’t evil; the real evil is losing one’s mind.’”
“Not so fast! Take it easy! The Law truly said that death is not evil but did not say that losing one’s mind is evil. It declared instead that insanity is evil.”
“Ha. . ha. Does our master see a difference between going insane and losing one’s mind?”
“I actually do see a difference. Anyone with a mind can tell the difference between going insane and losing your mind.”
“Can our master share that distinction with us?”
“We often lose our ability to reason clearly. Frequently the wisest elders don’t think straight, but with insanity we lose our ability to reason once and for all.”
“Is idiocy a type of reasoning or a loss of reasoning?”
“Idiocy is a short-term liberation from reason’s restraints.”
“Amazing!”
“Yes, indeed; idiocy is the boundary between insanity and reason, between liberation and restraint, and between shackle and prophecy.”
“Did my master mention prophecy?”
“Certainly. Prophecy. Occasionally idiocy is prophecy.”
“Wouldn’t that assertion count as blasphemy against the lost Law of the ancients?”
“No, certainly not. Occasionally idiocy is prophecy.”
The crowd murmured excitedly. The uproar lasted a long time. Then the strategist proclaimed decisively, “Reasoning that allows us to say that idiocy is prophecy also lets us say that prophecy is idiocy.”
“Prophecy is not merely idiocy. It is also insanity.”
The strategist clapped his hands together while the marketplace shook with people’s commotion. They did not limit themselves to a restrained objection but shouted their protests out loud.
PART I Section 7: The Secret
1 The Nomadic Life
When the jinn she harbored in her breast stirred one day, she protested: “You’ve destroyed me! Chasing after you through the deserts has destroyed me.”
He did not disapprove so much of the thought expressed then as of the inflection used, for she had repeatedly said even more scathing things but had never dared to express them in the tone she used for this complaint. A comment’s tone is our only evidence for its veracity — just as the music of its words is our only evidence to support a declaration of love. . or of hatred. This time, she had revealed her hatred in the ring of her voice.