The Diviner

accept them.”

“How very well-mannered of you,” she observed, arching a brow. “Yet still you do not see. Look at what is in front of your eyes, Azzad. We send our men out to make blood-bonds with other tribes of the Za’aba Izim—but only after they have proven they can sire a child.”

It hit him then, the way the future of Khamsin’s half-breed foals had hit him. And again he could see his mother’s face as she looked upon her idiot son. “You have your father’s height and your grandfather’s nose, and your eyes you inherited from me—but may Acuyib strike me down with a thunderbolt if I know from whom you received your total lack of intelligence!”

“Fadhil—and Abb Shagara—they will never be fathers.”

“Now you begin to understand.”

Abb Shagara’s riding lesson was a success, though for the first little while he sat Khamsin like a sack of grain, reins flapping and boots slipping from the stirrups. Then he straightened his spine, tucked in his elbows, mastered his heels, and kept his backside firmly in the saddle.

“Better than riding a donkey?” Azzad teased. Khamsin had behaved himself perfectly, his steps soft as velvet as he walked at the end of a lead rope.

“Wonderful!” the young man exclaimed, patting Khamsin’s neck. “I can see everything from up here! How do I look?”

“Like a sheyqir,” Fadhil assured him.

As Abb Shagara preened happily, Azzad exhaled a long, satisfied breath. He was going to make a fortune.

“I want to go faster,” said Abb Shagara. “How do I make him go faster?”

“You don’t.” He tried to shorten the lead. Khamsin jerked his head indignantly.

“Azzad, I will go faster! There’s nothing to this riding—see how well I’m doing?”

“Wonderfully well,” Azzad said. “But this is only your first lesson.”

“Speaking of which,” Fadhil murmured, “I hear Challa Meryem lessoned you last night. And you understand a little more about the Shagara.”

“Yes, but—” Azzad wrapped the lead around his hand, scowling at Khamsin’s answering lunge.

“I want to go faster!” cried Abb Shagara, flapping the reins and his heels.

“Stop that!” Azzad exclaimed. “You’re not ready!”

“Yes, I am! And so is the noble Khamsin—see?”

Khamsin danced to one side, tossing his head. The lead snapped taut, staggering Azzad forward. Fadhil called out in alarm as Abb Shagara reached into his sash for his knife and slashed the rope from Khamsin’s bridle. Free, the stallion snorted and gathered himself to obey the commanding heels. The next instant he was running— straight toward a thorn-studded fence.

Azzad’s mouth was so dry he couldn’t whistle the order to stop. Abb Shagara was laughing like a maniac as Khamsin cleared the fence with daylight to spare and raced off into the desert.

“Acuyib have mercy!” Azzad watched in horror as his horse galloped away at full speed into a wasteland of rocks and ratholes and scorpions and snakes and Chaydann only knew what all else. “Meryem will kill me!”

“Azzad, calm yourself. All will be well. No snake will harm them.” He paused. “Though I’ve never done anything quite like this before.”

Azzad peered into the distance, following the dust raised by Khamsin’s hooves, praying that Abb Shagara would stay in the saddle or at least in one relatively uninjured piece, so it took him a minute to grasp Fadhil’s words. When he did, he swung around and stared. “Quite like what?”

“We had to work fast, but I helped by doing the research—”

“Fadhil, what are you talking about?”

The young man sighed. “Abb Shagara will be protected from all injury—and Khamsin, too. You’re worrying for nothing, Azzad. Now, let me see your hand.” He inspected the reddening welts across the palm, probed with his fingertips for breaks. “Nothing salve and a wrapping won’t cure. But if Abb Shagara hadn’t cut the lead—”

“Fadhil!” The breath he drew in hurt his chest. “Do you mean to tell me that—that you trust some charm to keep him safe?”

“More than one charm, and we call them hazziri,” Fadhil replied. “Yours worked, didn’t it?” And he pointed to the plaque around Azzad’s neck. “You made a point of thanking Abb Shagara for this when you arrived.”

“But—”

“But you didn’t mean it? Not seriously?” Fadhil laughed. “Ayia, don’t tell him that! It would break his heart!”

His mind swimming, he turned the hazzir to look at it. Gold, set with four kinds of cabochon stone: a central lapis, three speckled bloodstones, two turquoises, a garnet at each corner. On the back was a stylized hawk, wings and claws outspread.

“I used turquoises for Abb Shagara today,” Fadhil said. “They bring luck and protect the horse.”

When he had held the silver cup in his hand and been unable to tell Abb Shagara a lie, Azzad had not believed.

“We use one jewel for each property we wish to give the hazzir, inscribed on the back with the appropriate symbol, the talishann.”

When Leyliah had thrown a knife at Fadhil and it glanced harmlessly off his chest, Azzad had not believed.

“The lapis is for truth, acting with the bloodstone that causes belief.”

When the shepherds had been ready to kill him despite his protestations, and their leader had come close enough to see the hazzir, Azzad had not believed.

“The four garnets are for Shagara friendship, its power and its constancy, and to protect against wounds.”

When the girl’s family had come to seize him, and no one in Sihabbah had any reason to trust in his word, and the hazzir had fallen free of his torn shirt, Azzad had perhaps begun to believe.

“Bloodstone also eases wrath, and as a nice addition for one traveling through these lands, protects against attacks by scorpions.”

But not until this moment, with Fadhil serenely explaining his art—Acuyib help him, he had not truly believed until now.

“After hearing your story, I decided the hawk would be best for you. It has the qualities of strength, energy, and inspiration, which you will need if you are to fulfill your oath of vengeance. The hawk,” he added musingly, “does not rest until his objective is achieved.”

Acuyib help him, Azzad believed.

As Khamsin cantered toward them, Abb Shagara still securely in the saddle and even laughing, Fadhil glanced sidelong at Azzad. “Abb Shagara wanted to include wealth and many children, but Meryem said that we must leave you something to do on your own.”

Still stunned, Azzad saw Abb Shagara wave gaily at them, a new hazzir around his right wrist: gold, set with turquoises and a large bloodstone.

“And Leyliah said this morning that with your face, which is not even to speak of your other attributes, you were perfectly capable of getting more children than you’d know what to do with.”

Reminded through his shock of what had transpired with Leyliah, Azzad’s head snapped around. “Fadhil —”

“It’s all right. I don’t mind, not really.” He smiled.

Whatever Azzad might have thought to reply was swept away in the wind of Khamsin’s arrival. Abb Shagara was as happy as a kitten in a yarn basket.

“That was splendid! May I do it again tomorrow? Will the half-breeds be as swift as Khamsin? It was like flying!”

Azzad looked at Fadhil and swallowed hard.“I apologize,” he murmured.

“No need. Enjoy the time you have with her. She is an extraordinary woman.”

“Azzad!” Abb Shagara called. “Again tomorrow? Please?”