These days few were unwanted, few were exposed. Azel passed the placewondering if it might not have been better had he been exposed.
The body was there on Skull Heap. The day was failing but there was lightenough. He turned back the way he had come.
Sadat Agmed, looking pretty harmless now.
Mo'atabar came almost before Yoseh settled himself to his supper. "Fa'tadwants him as soon as he's eaten," he told Medjhah, who was in charge becauseNogah had stayed in the city with Faruk and another, hidden inside the Shumaze. "You, too."
Medjhah grunted. So did Yoseh.
Once Mo'atabar went, Medjhah said, "It didn't rattle you tonight, littlebrother."
"I hurt too much to worry about Fa'tad." He flinched, but not from the pain.
They were questioning captives in the compound. Some needed convincing andwere a little exuberant with their protests.
Yoseh did feel less uncomfortable crossing the compound. He supposed you couldget used to anything. Yahada showed them inside and pointed out places to sit.
Fa'tad was receiving reports from his captains.
He asked, "The man used the same powder we saw before?"
A man Yoseh did not know replied, "Twice, apparently. Our people weren't thereto see it. He wasn't reluctant to use a knife, either. He cut a dozen mentrying to get away. A couple probably won't live."
Fa'tad grunted.
"He was Dartar, Fa'tad."
Fa'tad looked up, grunted again, sourly. Yoseh wondered if he was havingtrouble with his digestion.
"One of the men recognized him. His name was Sadat Agmed. An outcast. From al- Hadid clan."
"I recall the man. A thief. And too quick with a blade. What did you find onthe body?"
"Nothing. Except gold. Three pounds on each ankle and more on each arm."
"Child-stealing must be lucrative. So. Now we've run into two of them, armedwith minor sorcery. Are there more? Who's buying the children they steal? Whatare they doing with them?"
No one had an answer. No one had a suggestion about how to find out, short ofcatching one of the child-takers.
"Tell me about the other one," Fa'tad told Yoseh. So Yoseh related events ofthe afternoon. Medjhah gave al-Akla the perspective from camelback.
"The important thing we learned," Joab interjected, "is that we're making noheadway in the Shu. The man said he was an agent of the Living and the crowdturned on these boys."
Yoseh was surprised. He had not known that.
The Living. We're not fighting them right now, Joab. We're trying to disarmthem by example."
"Not fighting them? We're trying to take away the night. Their time."
"True."
"And how long before Cado gets wind of the fact we're leaving men in the cityovernight?"
"Not long. But if we take the night from the wicked and Herod orders us togive it back, who gains in the eyes of Qushmarrah?"
"I still say you play the game too subtly," Joab grumbled. "Find the captainsof the Living and come to an accommodation."
"We play for higher stakes, old friend." Al-Akla seemed to realize, suddenly, that he spoke before more than the inner circle. "Yoseh, Medjhah. You may go.
Thank you. Your efforts will be remembered."
They rose. As he followed Medjhah out, Yoseh heard Joab say, "The one boysuggested we dress some men as veydeen."
"And how do we make their faces look veydeen?"
As they crossed the compound Yoseh mused, "I never thought how our faces wouldgive us away." "Maybe wisdom does come with age."
The old man heard the street door close and steps approach. Not bel-Sidek'sfamiliar shuffle. He felt a moment of fright. Then he chuckled when Hadribelmoved into the room.
"Are you all right, sir?"
"I'm fine."
"Bel-Sidek was very concerned. He said ..."
"For all he's the man I've chosen to replace me when the time comes, bel-Sidekis a damned old woman when he starts fussing over me. The gods have beenmerciful tonight." He'd gotten worried about how he would get Naszif deliveredto Azel.
"I have work for you, Hadribel. Work that must be done immediately, that bel- Sidek would have ignored even had his lapse meant the death of the movement.
First, take me to my writing table."
Hadribel hesitated only a moment.
As he wrote his note to Azel, the General said, "I want you to go to Carza andtell him I have to see him immediately. If you both hurry he'll be with memost of the time you're running other errands. There'll be no cause for anagging conscience."
"Other errands, sir?"
"After you've summoned Carza you must collect the traitor Naszif bar bel-Abek, blindfolded, and deliver him to an agent of the movement." The old man gavedetailed instructions on how and where, with a strong caution against making any effort to get close enough to get a good look at the agent. "He's my mostprecious asset and I'll have no one know who he is lest he be betrayed eveninadvertently.
"Once you've delivered the traitor you'll take this message to the hostelcalled Muma's Place." Hadribel needed special directions. He did not know theplace. "Deliver the message only to Muma himself. Then return here. Knock. IfCarza hasn't left he'll answer and you'll have to find some way to occupyyourself till he goes. If he doesn't answer then you're to come in and remaintill bel-Sidek returns. Clear?" "Perfectly, General."
"Good. Then help me to my bed and be on your way." The old man sank into bedand collapsed into a deep, exhausted sleep, interrupted only when Carzaentered, to be introduced to the ultimate secret of the Living.
Zouki came alert as sudden silence invaded the cage. It was a silence filledwith terror. He looked around and saw the big man step through the cagedoorway.
The big man came straight toward him.
His heart hammered. He wet himself. He whimpered. He wanted to get up and runbut his body refused to obey.
The big man scooped him up and carried him out of the cage, through that hugeplace, into a large room lighted only by two candles at the far end. The bigman set him down between the candles. "You stay there, boy. You don't moveunless I tell you. Or you'll be sorry."
Zouki was too terrified to do anything else.
In the dusk a man leading an incongruously gaily decorated donkey cart camedown the dusty country lane leading past the home of the widow of theQushmarrahan hero, General Hanno bel-Karba. The man stopped before an oldwoman sitting by the roadside, weeping, watched over by several servants whoseloyalty the Moretians had not been able to banish through threats or acts ofterror. The man said, "Help her into the cart."
A servant, shaking, asked, "Who are you?"
"An old friend of her husband. I'm here to take you to safety."
The man's air of authority convinced the servants. They lifted the old womaninto the cart, then followed the man when he turned and led his donkey backthe way he had come.
Two miles up the road he turned off into a wood not yet devoured by theHerodian beast. He took them to a camp in a glen in the heart of the woodwhere they were received with great honor and solicitude by a band of menstrangely garbed in black camisards and pantaloons. The men were blackeningone another's faces with charcoal.
They made the refugees comfortable and fed them well while the cart man askedquestions about the Moretians who had put them out of their home. He changedto the strange clothing himself and allowed his face to be blackened while hetalked.
The old woman never spoke, never took her gaze from the fire.
The cart man asked, "Are we ready, Naik?"
"Yah, Khadifa."
"Then let's get to it."
Now the old woman looked up. "Are you the ones they call the Living?"
The khadifa inclined his head slightly. He did not answer directly. He said, "You will be back in your own home before the sun rises, honored lady."