Livid with rage, the chief overseer started towards the two warriors supporting me. He took a quick step, and I saw the glint of a blade in his hand. Another few steps and he would reach us. There was nothing I could do to prevent the attack. Indeed, I had not the strength or wit to so much as cry out to warn my protectors.
Then a curious thing happened: as the chief overseer drew back his arm to strike, a sharp-angled metal point appeared in the centre of his chest. He shuddered forward a step or two, and then stopped to look down as a bright red bloom of blood spread from the protruding point. The knife fell from his hand, and he clawed at the thing in his chest, raking his fingers against it.
The chief overseer staggered forward one more step and then crashed to his knees. Staring at me, he gave a choked cry and pitched forward face-down in the dust. The long shaft of a spear stood upright in the centre of his back. The slaves began shouting as one, ecstatic that their tormentor had been struck down.
The white-turbaned man moved his mount to where the fallen overseer lay and retrieved his spear without so much as rising from his saddle. Spear in hand, he called in a warning voice to the guards and slave drivers who stood looking on, and then motioned for the two warriors holding me to follow. They carried me to a horse and hoisted me onto it. I could not sit upright, but slumped on the animal's neck and clung on with the last of my strength. Soon we were racing headlong down through the narrow streets of the mining settlement towards the gate-one warrior leading my horse, and another riding alongside, keeping me in the saddle. The flight was almost as painful as any of my beatings and I cried out with every jolting step.
I do not know how far we fled-once beyond the gate, I swooned and cannot remember anything more until I awoke in a dusky twilight. The stranger in the white turban was kneeling beside me, pressing a wet cloth to my forehead. When he saw that I had wakened, he held a cup to my lips and gave me water to drink.
"Allah, Most Merciful, be praised," he said, "you awake in the land of the living."
I gazed at the man's face as he spoke, and I remembered where I had seen him before-with the amir, in Trebizond. "I know you," I told him, my voice a rasping whisper in my ears.
"I know you, too. I am Faysal," he replied. "I have been looking for you."
"Why?" I asked.
"That is for Lord Sadiq to tell," he replied.
"My friends-" I said, remembering Gunnar and Dugal suddenly. I tried to sit up; pain burst behind my eyes and I fell back, panting with the effort. My shoulder felt as if it were being prodded with white-hot irons.
"I know nothing of your friends," Faysal replied bluntly. "But tell me, is Eparch Nicephorus dead?"
Unable to speak, I nodded.
"We are taking you to the amir. He is in Ja'fariya, which is several days' ride from here."
I roused myself to protest. "Please," I gasped, "I cannot leave my friends."
Faysal seemed not to hear. He rose, saying, "Rest now and regain your strength."
Though I slept the remainder of the day, by nightfall my condition had worsened. I could no longer lift my head, much less stand, and it hurt to breathe. My whole body pulsed with pain, especially my shoulder and deep in my chest. Waking by firelight, I found Faysal sitting beside me, his dark eyes shadowed with worry.
"Drink this," he said, offering me a cup. "I have brought you some food also."
I raised my hand and reached for the cup and pain seared me from elbow to neck. Tears came to my eyes. I lay back groaning and gasping for breath.
"Please," Faysal said, and proceeded to loosen my clothing. Though he worked most gently, even the smallest movement caused me to cry out. He took one quick look and sat back on his heels. "It is not good," he told me. "The bones of your arm have been separated from their place. I can help you if you will allow me-though I warn you, there will be much pain."
As I could not imagine anything more painful than that which I had already endured, I gave my silent assent. Faysal left me then, and I heard low, urgent voices for a moment before drifting into unconsciousness again. Returning some while later, he roused me and said, "It is best done quickly."
Kneeling before me, he motioned to two of the men with him to attend me. They lifted me to a sitting posture, and one put his arms around my waist and the other held me about the chest. "Put this between your teeth," Faysal instructed, placing a tight-folded cloth in my mouth. When he was satisfied with these precautions, Faysal took my arm between his hands and slowly raised it until it was level with my shoulder; I winced and bit into the cloth, but did not scream.
Slowly, slowly, Faysal rotated my arm. Pain burst in bright fireballs; I felt him tighten his grip on my arm, and I closed my eyes.
