Having arrived back into the Painted Sand camp just as the first glimmer of sunrise appeared in the eastern sky, Ahmad slept well into the morning. When he awoke, the first thing he reached for was the obsidian shard on the twine around his neck. He turned it over between his fingers, a distant smile playing on the corners of his lips. He had not found the necklace, tied as it had been into the mane of his horse, until he had already arrived back into his own camp and was unsaddling the horse in preparation of returning him into the herd. His hand had struck the stone by chance. He had untied the necklace from the horse's mane and, holding its shiny blackness in his palm, stared at it in amazement. He wondered what kind of witchcraft had given it to him, but he took its presence as a sign from Qirfah. She had not forgotten him.
But the smile faded quickly. There was a sharp rap on the pole outside his tent flap, followed by the voice of Yusef. "Ahmad!" he called. "Get up! There is a delegation from the Baobab here to speak with your father and the elders. They have requested our presence."
"Our presence?" Ahmad called back. "Why? We are not elders."
"I didn't ask," Yusef answered grumpily. "They sent me to fetch you and here I am. We should make haste."
Ahmad dressed quickly and followed Yusef to the counsel ground where his father already sat, flanked by an assembly of elders from the five Painted Sand clans. A small Baobab group sat facing them. Ahmad and Yusef seated themselves on the ground behind the Painted Sand elders. One of the Baobab men had already begun to speak. Ahmad recognized him as Faruq of the Wind Scorpion clan. Faruq spoke long and earnestly of the problems among the Baobab, telling of the beating of a young boy the night before and the subsequent departure of many of the children and young people from the tribe. The young ones had established their own camp, his scouts had told him, in an old campsite not far from the stream.
Ahmad watched as the creased face of his father grew dark with worry. When the Baobab elder had finished, Ishak bin Ishak stroked his white beard. Then, he began to speak. He told of the way the young people, especially the young men of the Painted Sand tribe, had withdrawn from the rest of the tribe, refusing to work or care for the horses. He told of the murder several nights earlier of the Rain clan boy and of the execution of his murderer that was taking place as they spoke. At the mention of Fouad's execution, Ahmad turned to Yusef, who nodded gravely in confirmation.
So, Fouad is dead, Ahmad thought sadly. I had hoped to speak with him before his death. He might have been able to tell me what this sickness is, where it started.
As Ahmad's attention returned to cousel, he found that his father, Ishak bin Ishak, had continued to speak. "This execution," he said grimly. "Will lead to discord. This young man, Fouad, was one of the leaders of the young ones of our tribe. He was the first to turn away from us. There has been much grumbling with his arrest. So far, his death is not known to his followers as he was spirited out of our camp in secret, but the moment it becomes known, I fear there will be violence."
[ June 24, 2003: Message edited by: Ealasaid ]
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