Without the least warning, he pulled my arm straight out. In the same moment, the man holding my chest pulled me back. I heard a grating pop as my arm gave way. I thought I would swoon with the pain. Instantly, Faysal released his grip and the pain ceased. "There," he said, taking the cloth from between my teeth, "the bone is returned to its proper place."
They then crossed my arm over my chest and bound it there with a long strip of cloth torn from one of their cloaks. This finished, I fell back sweating and shaking with exhaustion. Faysal covered me with a cloak and I slept until dawn when they brought me water and a little bread dipped in honey. I was able to swallow a bit of it, and felt somewhat revived.
I could not stand. Every limb had been bludgeoned and every joint cruelly twisted. The bruises on my flesh were dark, angry blue-black in colour, and there was not a solitary patch of skin that was not discoloured; due to the swelling, the skin had burst in several places. Faysal did not like the look of my wounds and told me so. "I fear for you, my friend," he said. "I think we dare not stay here any longer."
Since I was in no way fit to sit a horse, they constructed a carrier of sorts made of a wide piece of stout cloth slung between two horses and tied somehow to the saddles. Into this sling I was placed, like a baby bundled into a cradle, and we set off.
Clearly, Faysal was anxious to reach Ja'fariya, for we did not stop all that day, and only once the next day. I lay in my sling, drifting in and out of consciousness. The riders were such masterful horsemen, that I rarely suffered the slightest bump or jolt, but swung gently to the rhythmic swaying of the horses.
The incessant, drumming ache in my joints and muscles-every part of my body had either been bludgeoned or stretched-increased through the second day. My right shoulder still throbbed, and the pain in my chest was gradually replaced by a burning sensation which made breathing difficult. My periods of awareness grew shorter and my sleep deeper; I could rouse myself, but only with extreme effort, and as time passed that effort no longer seemed worthwhile. During my brief periods of lucidity, I reckoned we were travelling rapidly, but could not tell in which direction. We rested only briefly during the hottest part of the day, and pushed on well into the night.
Once, I awoke, opening my eyes to see the full moon hanging like a glowing face above me, perfectly round and ablaze with pale gold light in a sky of deepest blue. Stars in their hundreds of thousands gleamed like so much silver dust scattered by a wildly generous hand. I did not know if I was still in my sling, or lying on the ground, and felt a distinct urgency to learn which it might be, but soon passed into unconsciousness without discovering the answer to this mystery.
Another day passed-or, then again, it may have been the same day, or one of a long succession of days, for all I could tell-and we arrived at the amir's palace. I cannot say which way we had travelled, nor how long the journey lasted-two days, four, or maybe less or more-such was beyond my ken.
All I can say with certainty is that I awoke suddenly to find that I was being carried along a panelled corridor to the accompaniment of hushed voices. They brought me to a small, bare cell of a room where I was placed on a covered pallet. Sunlight slashed into the room through a narrow slit of a windhole; dust motes swirled lazily in the sharp shaft of light. Those who had carried me to the room departed and I was left alone for a moment.
My head felt as if it were made of lead-covered stone; I tried, but could not raise it, and the effort brought waves of black dizziness besides. I closed my eyes-only for a moment, or so I thought-and when I opened them again, my clothes had been taken away and I was now covered by a thin white cloth. My arm was still bound to my chest with a winding cloth, and what little I could see of the rest of my body was grossly swollen and discoloured; the blue-black bruises were turning a hideous purple colour. A clear fluid oozed from the places where my skin had burst from the swelling. My mouth was dry and my eyes burned-indeed, I felt as if I were being slowly roasted from the inside.
I heard a movement beside me, and Faysal appeared; he squatted at my bedside, peering doubtfully into my face. "You are awake, my friend?"
I opened my mouth, and made to answer, but no sound came out. Faysal, seeing my difficulty, raised my head and brought a shallow bowl to my lips. The bowl contained honey water which I drank, and it seemed to free my tongue. "Where am I?" I asked; the voice I heard was not my own; at least, I no longer recognized it as mine.
"Lord Sadiq's palace," he answered. "Do you have much pain?"
