over the kneeling prisoner with the blade of his sword poised over Penrod’s neck.
“It needs but the movement of your little finger, great Atalan, and I shall prune his godless head like a rotten fruit.”
Osman watched Penrod’s face for any sign of fear, but his gaze never wavered. “How say you, Abadan Riji? Shall we end it here?” Penrod tried to shrug, but his injured shoulder curtailed the gesture, “I care not, Emir of the Beja. All men owe God a life. If it is not now, then it will be later.” He smiled easily. “But have done with this childish game. We both know well that an emir of the Beja could never let his blood enemy die in chains without a sword in his hand.”
Osman laughed with genuine delight. “We were minted from the same metal, you and I.” He motioned to al- Noor to go back to his seat. “First we must find a more suitable name for you than Abadan Riji. I shall call you Abd, for slave you now are.”
“Perhaps not for much longer,” Penrod suggested.
“Perhaps,” Osman agreed. “We shall see. But until that time you are Abd, my foot slave. You will sit at my feet, and you will run beside my horse when I ride abroad. Do you not wish to know who brought you to this low station? Shall I give you the name of your betrayer?” For a moment Penrod was too startled to think of a reply, and could only nod stiffly. Osman called to the men guarding the gate to the courtyard, “Bring in the informer to collect the reward he was promised.”
They stood aside and a familiar figure sidled through the gate to stand gazing about him nervously. Then Wad Hagma recognized Osman Atalan. He threw himself upon the ground and crawled towards him, chanting his praises and protesting his allegiance, devotion and loyalty. It took him a while to traverse the yard for he stopped every few yards to beat his forehead painfully on the earth. The aggagiers guffawed and called encouragement to him.
“Let not your great belly drag in the dust.”
“Have faith! Your long pilgrimage is almost ended.”
At last Wad Hagma reached the foot of the dais, and prostrated himself full length with arms and legs splayed out flat against the dusty ground like a starfish.
“You have rendered me great service,” said Osman.
“My heart overflows with joy at these words, mighty Emir. I rejoice that I have been able to deliver your enemy to you.”
“How much was the fee on which we agreed?”
“Exalted lord, you were liberal enough to mention a price of five hundred Maria Theresa dollars.”
“You have earned it.” Osman tossed down a purse so heavy it raised a small cloud of dust as it struck the ground.
Wad Hagma hugged it to his chest, and grinned like an idiot. “All praise to you, invincible Emir. May Allah always smile upon you!” He stood up, head bowed in deep respect. “May I be dismissed from your presence? Like the sun, your glory dazzles my eyes.”
“Nay, you must not leave us so soon.” Osman’s tone changed. “I wish to know what emotions you felt when you placed slavers’ chains upon a brave warrior. Tell me, my fat little hosteller, how does the sly and treacherous baboon feel when it leads the great elephant bull into the pitfall?”
An expression of alarm crossed Wad Hagma’s face. “This is no elephant, mighty Emir.” He gestured at Penrod. “This is a rabid dog. This is a cowardly infidel. This is a vessel of such ungodly shape that it deserves to be shattered.”
“In God’s Name, Wad Hagma, I see that you are an orator and a poet. I ask only one more service of you. Kill this rabid dog for me! Shatter this misshapen pot so that the world of Islam will be a better place!” Wad Hagma stared at him with utter consternation. “Al-Noor, give the courageous tavern-keeper your sword.”
Al-Noor placed the broadsword in Wad Hagma’s hand and he looked hesitantly at Penrod. Carefully he placed the bag of Maria Theresa dollars on the ground, and straightened. He took a step forward, and Penrod came to his feet. Wad Hagma jumped back.
“Come now! He is chained and the bone in his arm is broken,” said Osman. “The rabid dog has no teeth. He is harmless. Kill him.” Wad Hagma looked around the courtyard, as if for release, and the aggagiers called to him, “Do you hear the emir’s words, or are you deaf?”
“Do you understand his orders, or are you dull-witted?”
“Come, brave talker, let us see brave deeds to match your words.”
“Kill the infidel dog.”
Wad Hagma lowered the sword, and looked at the ground. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, in the hope that he had lulled his victim, he let out a blood-chilling shriek and rushed straight at Penrod with the sword held high in both hands. Penrod stood unmoving as Wad Hagma slashed double-handed at his head. At the last moment he lifted his hands and caught the descending blade on his chain. Such was the shock as it hit the steel links that Wad Hagma’s untrained hands and arms were numbed to the elbows. His grip opened involuntarily and the sword spun from his hands. He backed away, rubbing his wrists.
“In God’s Holy Name!” Osman applauded him. “What a fierce stroke! We have misjudged you. You are at heart a warrior. Now, pick up the sword and try again.”
“Mighty Emir! Great and noble Atalan! Have mercy on me. I shall return the reward.” He picked up the bag of coins and ran to place it at
Osman’s feet. “There! It is yours. Please let me go! O mighty and compassionate lord, have mercy on me.”
“Pick up the sword and carry out my orders,” said Osman, and there was more menace in his tone than if he had shouted.
“Obey the Emir Atalan!” chanted the aggagiers. Wad Hagma whirled round and raced back to where the sword lay. He stooped to pick it up, but as his hand closed on the hilt Penrod stepped on the blade.
Wad Hagma tugged at it ineffectually. “Get off!” he whined. “Let me go! I meant nobody any harm.” Then he dropped his shoulder and lunged at Penrod with all his weight, trying to push him backwards off the sword. Penrod swung the loop of chain. It whipped across the side of Wad Hagma’s jaw. He howled and sprang backwards, clutching the injury. With a loop of chain swinging threateningly Penrod followed him. He turned and scuttled across the yard towards the doorway, but . when he reached it a pair of aggagiers blocked his way with crossed swords. Wad Hagma gave up, and turned back to face Penrod as he stalked after him, swinging the loop of chain.
“No!” Wad Hagma’s voice was blurred, and the side of his face distorted. The chain had broken his jaw. “I meant you no harm. I needed the money. I have wives and many children …” He tried to avoid Penrod by circling along the wall, but the seated aggagiers pricked him forward with the points of their swords and roared with laughter when he hopped like a rabbit at the sting. Suddenly he darted away again, back to where the sword lay. As he reached it and stooped to seize the hilt, Penrod stepped up behind him and dropped the loop of chain over his head. With a quick twist of his wrists he settled the links snugly under Wad Hagma’s chin and round his throat. As Wad Hagma’s fingertips touched the sword hilt Penrod applied pressure on the chain and pulled him up until he was dancing on tiptoe, pawing at the chain with both hands, mewing like a kitten.
“Pray!” Penrod whispered to him. “Pray to Allah for forgiveness. This is your last chance before you stand before him.” He twisted the chain slowly and closed off Wad Hagma’s windpipe, so that he could neither whimper nor whine.
“Farewell, Wad Hagma. Take comfort from the knowledge that for you nothing matters any longer. You are no longer of this world.”
The watching aggagiers drummed their sword blades on their leather shields in a mounting crescendo. Wad Hagma’s dance became more agitated. His toes no longer touched the ground. He kicked at the air. His damaged face swelled and turned dark puce. Then there was a sharp crack, like the breaking of a dry twig. All the aggagiers shouted together as Wad Hagma’s limbs stiffened, his entire body sagged and he hung from the chain round his throat. Penrod lowered him to the ground and walked back towards Osman Atalan. The aggagiers were in uproar, shouting and laughing, some mimicking Wad Hagma’s death throes. Even Osman was smiling with amusement.
Penrod reached the spot where the sword lay, swept it up in a single movement and rushed straight at Osman, the long blade pointed at the emir’s heart. Another shout went up, from every man in the yard, this time of wild surmise and alarm. Penrod had twenty paces to cover to reach the dais and the courtyard exploded into movement. A dozen of the aggagiers nearest to the dais leapt forward. Their swords were already unsheathed, and
