“Sell your brother?” I exclaimed.
“You cannot just take him there and abandon him, a little boy in a strange city. We would wish you to place him in the keeping of the best possible master. And, as I said, you will realize a profit on the transaction. For your trouble of transporting him, and your taking pains to find the right sort of buyer for him, you may keep the entire amount you get for him. It ought to be a handsome price for such a fine boy. Is that not fair enough?”
“More than fair,” I said. “It may sway my father and uncle, but I cannot promise. After all, I am just one of three in our party. I must put the proposition to them.”
“That should suffice,” said Sitare. “Our mistress has already spoken to them. The Mirza Esther also wishes to see young Aziz set upon a better road in life. I understand that your father and uncle are considering the matter. So, if you are agreeable to taking Aziz, yours should be the persuading voice.”
I said truthfully, “The widow’s word probably carries more weight than mine does. That being so, Sitare, why were you prepared to”—I gestured, indicating her state of undress—“to go to such lengths to cajole me?”
“Well … ,” she said, smiling. She moved aside the clothes she held to give me another unimpeded look at her body. “I hoped you would be
Still being truthful, I said, “I would be, anyway. But there are some other aspects you ought to consider. For one thing, we must cross a perilous and uncomfortable desert. It is no fit place for any human being, not to mention a small boy. As is well known, the Devil Satan is most evident and most powerful in the desert wastes. It is into deserts that saintly Christians go, simply to test their strength of faith—and I mean the most sublimely devout Christians, like San Antonio. Unsaintly mortals go there only at great hazard.”
“Perhaps so, but they do go,” said young Aziz, sounding unperturbed by the prospect. “And since I am not a Christian, I may be in less danger. I may even be some protection for the rest of you.”
“We have another non-Christian in the party,” I said sourly. “And that is a thing I would have you also consider. Our camel-puller is a beast, who habitually consorts and couples with the vilest of other beasts. To tempt his bestial nature with a desirable and accessible little boy …”
“Ah,” said Sitare. “That must be the objection your father raised. I knew the mistress was concerned about something. Then Aziz must promise to avoid the beast, and you must promise to watch over Aziz.”
“I will stay always by your side, Mirza Marco,” declared the boy. “By day and by night.”
“Aziz may not be chaste, by your standards,” his sister went on. “But neither is he promiscuous. As long as he is with you, he will be yours only, not lifting his zab or his buttocks or even his eyes to any other man.”
“I will be yours only, Mirza Marco,” he affirmed, with what might have been charming innocence, except that he held aside the garments in his hands, as Sitare had done, to let me look my fill.
“No, no, no,” I said, in some agitation. “Aziz, you are to promise not to tempt
“If that is what you wish,” he said, though he appeared crestfallen. “Then I swear it. On the beard of the Prophet (peace and blessing be upon him).”
Skeptical, I asked Sitare, “Is that oath binding on a beardless child?”
“Indeed it is,” she said, regarding me askance. “Your dreary desert journey will not be at all enlivened. You Christians must take some morbid pleasure in the denial of pleasure. But so be it. Aziz, you may put on your clothes again.”
“You too, Sitare,” I said, and if Aziz had looked crestfallen, she looked thunderstruck. “I assure you, dear girl, I say that unwillingly, but with the best of will.”
“I do not understand. When you take responsibility for my brother, my virginity is worth nothing toward his advancement. So I give it to you, and thankfully.”
“And with all thanks I decline it. For a reason I am sure you are aware of, Sitare. Because, when your brother departs, what becomes of you?”
“What matter? I am only a female person.”
“In a person most
She and Aziz both stared at me, and the boy murmured, “Verily, Christians are divane.”
“Some, no doubt. Some try to behave as Christians should.”
Sitare’s stare turned to a softer look, and she said in a soft voice, “Perhaps some few succeed.” But again, provocatively, she moved the screening clothes aside from her fair body. “You are sure you decline? You are steadfast in your kindly resolve?”
I laughed shakily. “Not at all steadfast. For that reason, let me go quickly from here. I will consult with my father and uncle about taking Aziz with us.”
The consultation did not take long, for they were in the stable talking it over at that very time.
“So there,” said Uncle Mafio to my father. “Marco is also in favor of letting the boy come along. That makes two of us voting yes, against one vote wavering.”
My father frowned and tangled his fingers into his beard.
“We will be doing a good deed,” I said.
“How can we refuse to do a good deed?” demanded my uncle.
My father growled an old saying, “Saint Charity is dead and her daughter Clemency is ailing.”
My uncle retorted with another, “Cease believing in the saints and they will cease doing miracles.”
They then looked at each other in a silence of impasse, until I ventured to break it.
“I have already warned the lad about the likelihood of his being molested.” They both swiveled their gaze to me, looking astonished. “You know,” I mumbled uncomfortably, “Nostril’s propensities for, er, making mischief.”
“Oh, that,” said my father. “Yes, there is that.”
I was glad that he seemed not unduly concerned about it, for I did not wish to be the one to tell of Nostril’s most recent indecency, and probably earn the slave a belated beating.
“I made Aziz promise,” I said, “to be wary of any suspicious advances. And I have promised to watch over him. As for his transportation, the pack camel is not at all heavily laden, and the boy weighs very little. His sister offered to let us pocket whatever money we can sell him for, which should be a substantial amount. But I rather think we ought merely to subtract from it the cost of his keep, and let the boy have the rest. As a sort of legacy, to start his new life with.”
“So there!” said Uncle Mafio again, scratching at his elbow. “The lad has a mount to ride and a guardian to protect him. He is paying his own way to Mashhad, and earning himself a dowry as well. There can be no further possible objection.”
My father said solemnly, “If we take him, Marco, he will be your responsibility. You guarantee to keep the child from harm?”
“Yes, Father,” I said, and put my hand significantly on my belt knife. “Any harm must take me before it takes him.”
“You hear, Mafio.”
I perceived that I must be making a weighty vow indeed, since my father was commanding my uncle to bear witness.
“I hear, Nico.”
My father sighed, looked from one to the other of us, clawed in his beard some more, and finally said, “Then he comes with us. Go, Marco, and tell him so. Tell his sister and the Widow Esther to pack whatever belongings Aziz is to take.”
So Sitare and I took the opportunity for a flurry of kisses and caresses, and the last thing she said to me was, “I will not forget, Mirza Marco. I will not forget you, or your kindness to us both, or your consideration of my fortunes hereafter. I should very much like to reward you—and with that which you have so gallantly forgone. If ever you should journey this way again …”
4
WE had been told that we were crossing the Dasht-e-Kavir at the best time of the year. I should hate to have to cross it at the worst. We did it in the late autumn, when the sun was not infernally hot, but, even without
