that is a God-given position if ever there was one.”
“Raisuli is also of the house of Alaouite, Morocco’s ruling family for three centuries. He regards himself as a more rightful ruler than Sultan Yusef. Abd el-Krim, on the other hand, denies the Sultan because Yusef is under the control of France. A political viewpoint, rather than the visceral religion of Raisuli—just as Abd el-Krim is attempting to fight a war of independence rather than a jihad against the Christian world. The Emir walks a razor’s edge every day.”
“The traditionalists do not like Abd el-Krim?”
“They like him less. He is a modernist, who would bring the country into the new era. For example, he has little patience for local marabouts , shrinekeepers, whom he regards as dangerously mired in the past. He attended the Fez madersa and is a Believer, but he does not speak the language of the holy men.”
“And this is the man your brother has befriended.”
“Mahmoud’s advice has proved good, his commitment to the Rifian cause solid. This means that now, after ten months, he is in a position to say a word into the ear of Abd el-Krim, and it will be heard.”
“And what is the word that Mahmoud has said?” By now, the two men were speaking in low murmurs.
Ali paused to set the rough creature on the table for a moment, to check that it stood firm on its four legs. Then he resumed. “My brother says that the head of the Rif Republic and the Sultan’s foreign minister should meet, face to face, without the presence of Spain. That we need to bring together Emir Mohammed Abd el-Krim and Maréchal Hubert Lyautey.”
“Moroccan soldiers mutinied in 1912 when they thought France was controlling the Sultan. Why wouldn’t the whole country go up in flames over this?”
“It would. Were it known.”
“A secret meeting, then. Abd el-Krim would come, despite the risk of arrest?”
“Once we saw that Chaouen was all but won, we put the question before the Emir. He agreed, and a message was carried to the Maréchal, asking if he would be willing to meet.
“It was the following day that your brother’s letter reached us, giving your location in Rabat. It seemed a possible solution to the problem of how to permit Lyautey a guard without risking knowledge of the meeting getting out. Plus, you might be needed to talk him into it.
“We received Lyautey’s tentative acceptance eight days ago—on the twelfth. Mahmoud left the next day, both to find you and to confirm that the site we had thought of would be adequate.
“We requested a neutral place, to the north of Fez, even though if the Emir wished, he could walk into Fez through the Bab Bou Jeloud and no man would be the wiser. A handful of teachers at the madersa might recognise the man from the boy he was, but outside of them, his face is known only to those who have fought at his side. Abd el-Krim walks in the shadows.”
“So long as his name is not said aloud.”
“As you say. He would not come to Fez knowing that a potential enemy could be waiting, Allah ystor .”
“Why do you need me?”
“Your cousin has made preliminary agreement to come and speak with the Emir. He may be less willing when he finds that it will take him away from Fez for a day, and that it renders him vulnerable. Only a brave man would ride alone to such a meeting, but only a stupid man would do so without being certain it was no trap. Lyautey is a brave man. He is not a stupid one.”
Holmes studied the side of his companion’s face. Ali remained intent on the figurine. After a while, the older man got to his feet, walking to the little window to stare unseeing at the rooftops.
A chain of links, strung across a chasm: Lyautey, Holmes, two British spies, and a rebel leader, on which the perilous future of a country rested—and Morocco’s future was only a part of the picture. If such a meeting went wrong, if Lyautey was shot or taken prisoner and England’s hand in his fate came to light,
“Raisuli is also of the house of Alaouite, Morocco’s ruling family for three centuries. He regards himself as a more rightful ruler than Sultan Yusef. Abd el-Krim, on the other hand, denies the Sultan because Yusef is under the control of France. A political viewpoint, rather than the visceral religion of Raisuli—just as Abd el-Krim is attempting to fight a war of independence rather than a jihad against the Christian world. The Emir walks a razor’s edge every day.”
“The traditionalists do not like Abd el-Krim?”
“They like him less. He is a modernist, who would bring the country into the new era. For example, he has little patience for local marabouts , shrinekeepers, whom he regards as dangerously mired in the past. He attended the Fez madersa and is a Believer, but he does not speak the language of the holy men.”
“And this is the man your brother has befriended.”
“Mahmoud’s advice has proved good, his commitment to the Rifian cause solid. This means that now, after ten months, he is in a position to say a word into the ear of Abd el-Krim, and it will be heard.”
“And what is the word that Mahmoud has said?” By now, the two men were speaking in low murmurs.
Ali paused to set the rough creature on the table for a moment, to check that it stood firm on its four legs. Then he resumed. “My brother says that the head of the Rif Republic and the Sultan’s foreign minister should meet, face to face, without the presence of Spain. That we need to bring together Emir Mohammed Abd el-Krim and Maréchal Hubert Lyautey.”
“Moroccan soldiers mutinied in 1912 when they thought France was controlling the Sultan. Why wouldn’t the whole country go up in flames over this?”
“It would. Were it known.”
“A secret meeting, then. Abd el-Krim would come, despite the risk of arrest?”
“Once we saw that Chaouen was all but won, we put the question before the Emir. He agreed, and a message was carried to the Maréchal, asking if he would be willing to meet.
“It was the following day that your brother’s letter reached us, giving your location in Rabat. It seemed a possible solution to the problem of how to permit Lyautey a guard without risking knowledge of the meeting getting out. Plus, you might be needed to talk him into it.
“We received Lyautey’s tentative acceptance eight days ago—on the twelfth. Mahmoud left the next day, both to find you and to confirm that the site we had thought of would be adequate.
“We requested a neutral place, to the north of Fez, even though if the Emir wished, he could walk into Fez through the Bab Bou Jeloud and no man would be the wiser. A handful of teachers at the madersa might recognise the man from the boy he was, but outside of them, his face is known only to those who have fought at his side. Abd el-Krim walks in the shadows.”
“So long as his name is not said aloud.”
“As you say. He would not come to Fez knowing that a potential enemy could be waiting, Allah ystor .”
“Why do you need me?”
“Your cousin has made preliminary agreement to come and speak with the Emir. He may be less willing when he finds that it will take him away from Fez for a day, and that it renders him vulnerable. Only a brave man would ride alone to such a meeting, but only a stupid man would do so without being certain it was no trap. Lyautey is a brave man. He is not a stupid one.”
Holmes studied the side of his companion’s face. Ali remained intent on the figurine. After a while, the older man got to his feet, walking to the little window to stare unseeing at the rooftops.
A chain of links, strung across a chasm: Lyautey, Holmes, two British spies, and a rebel leader, on which the perilous future of a country rested—and Morocco’s future was only a part of the picture. If such a meeting went wrong, if Lyautey was shot or taken prisoner and England’s hand in his fate came to light,
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