Murid guessed that there had been an argument, and Nassef had been compelled to concede.
Nassef strode to the central petitioner’s podium. He was too angry to examine his surroundings immediately. El Murid could almost read the complaints marshaling behind his brow.
Then Nassef noticed the Invincibles standing stiffly in the shadows. Some of his anger and arrogance deserted him.
“Your war-general at your command, my Lord Disciple.”
Nassef went through a further subtle deflation when he spied the kill dagger. Its placement made it appear to be a personal message from the cult, unknown to El Murid himself.
There was a quiet power struggle developing between Nassef and the Invincibles. El Murid, scarcely as ignorant as some of his followers thought, was aware of it, and hoped to use it to dampen Nassef’s tendency toward independence.
Sometimes he thought that his brother-in-law was trying to carve out his own private empire.
What El Murid really wanted was a lever on Nassef that he could use to pry himself free of Sebil el Selib.
He could not stand to remain tied down much longer.
He mentioned none of the real grievances he had with his war general. “Scourge of God, you’ve boasted that you could muster twenty thousand warriors with a word.”
“That’s true, Enlightened One.”
El Murid controlled an impulse to grin. Nassef was going to lay it on heavy. “War general, speak that word. Gather your warriors. I’ve decided to move on Al Rhemish.”
Nassef did not reply immediately. He surveyed the Invincibles. He found no sympathy in their eyes. They were El Murid’s hounds. They would respond to his will no matter what he commanded. He looked at the dagger. He looked at El Murid. “It shall be as you command, my Lord Disciple. I’ll send the summons as soon as I leave.” He chewed his lower lip.
El Murid was mildly surprised. He had not expected Nassef to yield this easily. “Go, then. I’m sure you have a lot to do. I want to start as soon as possible.”
“Indeed, Enlightened One. Moving an army to Al Rhemish will take a great deal of preparation. The desert is no friend to the soldier.”
“It’s a work of the Evil One. Naturally, it serves him. But it can be conquered, even as he can.”
Nassef did not respond. He bowed and departed.
El Murid kept tabs. Not all the Invincibles wore white robes and mustered with their companies. A few remained secret members of the fraternity, providing intelligence for their commanders.
Nassef kept his word. He sent his messengers. He gathered his captains. They plunged into the problems inherent in marching a large army across a wasteland.
Satisfied, El Murid almost forgot him.
Then he stole one of his rare evenings with his family.
The Disciple’s private life would have scandalized the conservative Invincibles. But he had learned from his attempt to have Meryem testify at his trial. He and she kept their abnormal equality concealed behind closed doors.
His New Castle apartments were sumptuous. Though it would serve as a cistern in time of siege, he even had a large pool in which to relax and bathe.
Meryem met him with the excited smile that had come to mean so much to him. “I was afraid something would keep you.”
“Not tonight. Tonight I need you more than they need me.” He closed the door and kissed her. “You’re a patient woman. A miracle. You’ve changed so much since El Aquila.”
She smiled up at him. “Men change us. Come on. There’s no one but family tonight. I’m even doing the cooking myself so the outside can’t get in.”
He followed her into the next room — and stiffened.
Nassef sat with his son Sidi and the still unnamed girl, telling them some outrageous tale of the desert. El Murid pursed his lips unhappily, but settled to his cushion without a word. Nassef was Meryem’s brother, and the children loved him. Especially the girl. Sometimes she would sneak out and follow her uncle all over the valley. She could not believe that her father’s enemies were capable of attacking him through her.
“It’ll be a while,” Meryem told him. “Why don’t you relax in the pool? You haven’t had a chance all week.”
“Me too!” Sidi yelped.
El Murid laughed. “You’re going to grow scales like a fish if you spend any more time in the water. All right. Come on. Nassef, when we reach the sea we’ll make Sidi our admiral. I can’t keep him away from the water.”
Nassef rose. “I’ll join you. This old skin hasn’t been clean for two months. Sidi, I’ve got a job for you. Show me how to swim. I might need to know if your father is going to take us to the sea.”
“What about me?” the girl demanded. She hated the water, but did not want to let her uncle out of her sight. She was beginning to remind her father of her mother at an earlier age.
“You’re a girl,” Sidi told her. His tone suggested that that was cause enough for her to be thrown into stocks, let alone banned from the bath.
“You might melt, sugar,” her father told her. “Let’s go, men.”
Lying in the cool water, letting it buoy him up, allowed him a relaxation that was missing even in Meryem’s arms.
