Smiles showed in the eyes of some men, while others exchanged knowing glances, which said that when the elders fear to do something, fools will take charge. Although it stirred those men in whom respect for the desert people’s customary code had not died out, Edahi’s statement also awakened a sense of shame in the souls of the nobles, who had no right to reproach the visitor for substituting a she-ass for a camel, since they had accepted a similar humiliation the day they turned their backs on the desert and chose as their way of life dependence on the land and oasis languor.
Outside, the hullabaloo began to bluster again. Inside, the anxious silence continued. Eventually the diviner said, “I would almost claim that life in a land without water is easier than life in a land where the water is polluted.”
The ruler retorted, “Is this a declaration of surrender to the stranger’s will?”
Yazzal looked questioningly at him before replying, “I don’t know whether this is a submission to the stranger’s will or a surrender to the spirit world’s.”
Elelli intervened, “What I know is that a place becomes uninhabitable once the water is contaminated.”
Ewar again disagreed, “If the water becomes contaminated from some unknown source, we would consider the calamity a message from the spirit world, but everyone agrees that the secret is related in some way to the stranger.”
The diviner Yazzal said, “The reality of the affliction remains the same no matter what causes it.”
Ewar straightened himself, fastened his veil across his nose, and breathed deeply, as if preparing for a long debate. Then he said, “I wanted to say that our grandfathers’ stories did not teach us to flee from an enemy we can see and hear.”
Elelli retorted gleefully, “But the disease is an affliction that we cannot see or hear, and we have yet to grasp its secret.”
“We’ve seen the affliction with our eyes and heard it with our own ears, since we have seen the perpetrator.”
The diviner protested loudly, “What proof is there that he’s the perpetrator?”
“When this intruder openly lambastes our sedentary life and advocates nomadism day and night, should we quarrel about the necessary level of proof?”
Elelli, however, became even more stubborn: “Words are not deeds; a curse is not a cause.”
The warrior Emmar laughed, and then the chief merchant intervened, “If the stranger has brought the affliction to the oasis, he has also brought relief.”
Ewar said disapprovingly, “What relief are you talking about?”
Amghar was silent for a time and stole a glance at the swarm of elders. He also glanced at the chief. Then he bowed his head and stammered, “The antidote!”
Outside the wind howled. Inside, silence prevailed. Suddenly the idiot shouted, “What antidote do you mean?”
The nobles exchanged glances. Some dug in the earth with their fingers, carving obscure symbols. Ewar replied, “Perhaps he has helped those who have consulted him in order to put people off the scent. Perhaps like any strategist he had his own reasons. But we should not forget that the series of miscarriages has not ceased.”
Edahi shouted at the top of his lungs, “The miscarriages haven’t ceased because the scoundrel hasn’t stopped sprinkling his hateful herbs in the spring’s water. I told you his secret right from the start, but you didn’t believe me.”
The chief merchant protested, “A person who treats infertility would not deliberately cause miscarriages.”
The diviner supported his opinion: “How can we accuse a man of starting an epidemic when he treats its victims?”
The idiot once again exploded, “The depraved fellow only does that to ward off suspicions. The strategist only does that to camouflage his trap.”
Ewar shouted, “You’re right. He’s only done that to hide his trap. I add my voice to this idiot’s.”
The chief merchant said, “We can’t accept Edahi’s testimony, since we know the fool has publicly declared his hatred for the stranger from day one.”
The chief took up the defense, “We can’t term a spontaneous outburst of emotion ‘hatred’.”
Elelli yelled, “Yes, definitely, spontaneous hatred is the worst form. So watch out!”
The idiot again shouted, “I don’t deny hating him from the first day, but that’s because I grasped his secret.”
More than one voice inquired, “Do you really know his secret?”
The fool remained silent, and the warrior said, “Tell us his secret.”
Edahi bowed his head. His eyes glistened with pain and he began to tremble. He stammered, “I can’t.”
The nobles exchanged astonished looks, and the diviner asked, “Why not?”
The idiot said in a choked voice, “Because his secret is inseparable from mine.”
3 The Evidence
The diviner started on a walk. Whenever the townsfolk saw him set off across the northern wastelands swathed in dark shadows, they would say he was begging for a prophecy. That night, too, he was crossing the wasteland to the north when his path was blocked by a specter that appeared suddenly but said nothing. It walked for a few paces beside him before he recognized from its physique that it was the chief. After going some distance together silently, Ewar said, “A man is inevitably plagued by doubts.”
When Yazzal did not answer, the ruler asked, “Do you believe in omens?”
“Who doesn’t?”
“I meant to say that even if the visitor hasn’t committed any offense, he may still be the kind of person who can be culpable without committing a crime.”
He was silent for a split second before offering this clarification: “I mean he’s from a faction that has inherited sins from ancestors.”
“I don’t know. What’s certain is that some people bring a promise of rain and others an ill omen.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. I mean, even if the stranger doesn’t have some plot up his sleeve, he’s no doubt ill-omened.”
He was silent as they continued their hike. With his sandal he rolled a stone out of his way. Then he said, “Doesn’t the Law authorize banishment of an ill-omened intruder?”
“Banishment is a punishment. The Law does not authorize punishment on the basis of suspicions.”
Ewar was silent once again. He was silent for a long time and then suddenly stopped, blocking the diviner with his body. In a muffled voice he asked, “Answer this question for me now: When does the Law authorize punishment?”
Without any hesitation the diviner replied, “When there’s evidence!”
“Evidence?”
Yazzal did not respond, and so Ewar said menacingly, “But where’s the evidence? There’s no clear-cut evidence anywhere in our world.”
“Here, you’ve answered the question.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that the difficulty of rendering a verdict against someone arises from the difficulty of obtaining clear-cut evidence.”
“But evil-doers will ruin the earth and turn upside down the lives of oppressed people without our being able to pinpoint the truth of what you call ‘evidence’ and I term ‘slander’.”
“Do you know why? It’s because the Law knows that there is nothing in the created world more difficult than passing judgment on a man for an offense.”
“Is that because we all commit offenses?”
“I don’t know, but generations have learned from trial and error that it is the lesser of two evils for the masses to experience injustice than for one man to be wrongly convicted.”
“I bet this is, in and of itself, a scourge. I bet this is what the tribes call a calamity.”