Book 4 - The Fire in His Hands by Glen Cook Page A

Qaboos. All of you. I promise you my brother will remember this. And he’ll not
    forget the faces we don’t see here today.”
    Someone suggested, “Maybe we ought to give the others more time.”
    “More time, Feras? Will the Disciple give us more time? No! We strike. No game. No
    subtleties. We hit them like a hammer. And we bring their heads back to decorate the walls.
    Every motherlorn one.”
    Radetic muttered, “Fierce this morning, aren’t we?”
    Fuad rewarded him with an ugly look. “You’ll find out fierce, teacher. Keep nagging. Beloul.
    Order the column according to plan. Just drop the places of the cowards who didn’t show.”
    “Fuad,” Radetic whispered, “I really think you ought to reconsider this.”
    “We ride when the column is in order,” Fuad countered. “There will be no more discussion.
    We will be victorious or we will fail. I wouldn’t want to be in the sandals of those cowards if we fail and I survive. Get away from me, teacher. You don’t have anything to tell me.”
    Hours later Megelin watched the column pass out of sight. “I did what I could, Haroun. But
    he’s too damned stubborn to hear reason.”
    “You don’t think he’ll win?”
    Radetic shrugged. “Anything is possible. Maybe he’ll get lucky.”
    A messenger located Megelin in his classroom two days after Fuad’s departure. “The Lord
    Yousif has awakened. He asks your attendance.”
    Radetic was irritated by the interruption, but could not ignore the summons. “Ali. I’m
    leaving you in charge while I see your father. Keep on with the lesson.”
    Outside, the messenger chuckled. “You set them a grim taskmaster.”
    “I know. It’s the only way I can get him to learn anything. He doesn’t want his students
    thinking they’re smarter than he is.”
    “Would that I had had such an opportunity when I was young.”
    “Ah.” Radetic smiled gently. Yousif’s subterfuge was working. Before children could be
    educated their elders had to be convinced that there was some point to education. “How is he?”
    “Quite well, considering. But he’s tough. This is a tough family. The desert has never been
    kind here.”
    “I can see that.” Megelin had heard the same remark so often, even where the desert had
    been kind, that he suspected it was a homily.
    Yousif was sitting up, arguing with a physician who wanted him to lie down. “Ah. Megelin.
    Here at last. Save me from the mercies of this old woman.”
    “The old woman probably knows more about what your body needs than you do, Wahlig.”
    “You all stick together, don’t you? Well, no matter. Come here. Take one of these cushions. I can’t use them all.”
    Radetic sat. He could not conceal his discomfort. He was too old to adapt to the desert
    custom of sitting cross-legged on cushions.
    Yousif ignored his discomfort. “I’ve been away from this world a long time. It makes a man
    take stock. You know what I mean?”
    “I think so, Wahlig.”
    “My first job in this second life is to get you to stop acting like a servant. We have things to talk about, Megelin. I think the first should be friendship.”
    “Wahlig?”
    “You brought my caravan through.”
    “Nonsense.”
    “I’ve spoken with Muamar. We won’t argue it. I’m grateful. It hadn’t occurred to me that I
    might be leaving enemies behind me.”
    “My life was in danger, too.”
    “That’s one way of looking at it. Whichever view you choose, my wives and children came
    through safely. I consider your effort an act of friendship. I do as I’m done by, Megelin.”
    Radetic could not stifle a wry smile. “Thank you.” The gratitude of princes was notoriously
    short-lived.
    “Megelin, you show expertise in surprising directions. I value a man who has skills beyond
    those demanded by his profession.”
    “Score a point for education.”
    “Indeed. Tell me. What do you think of Fuad’s expedition?”
    “I haven’t been over the ground, except on the chicken tracks you call