French outrage would have artillery pointing north across the Channel.
“Why?” he asked, his back to the room. “What are you after?”
“Till now, the Rif Rebellion has pushed exclusively north, against Spain. If it matters at all to this discussion, Mahmoud and I happen to believe that the Rifi have a right to their land, but opinion notwithstanding, the Emir is on the brink of forcing Spain to the negotiating table. By spring, when the Spanish people have buried their dead and filled their eyes with newspaper images of the Spanish retreat from Chaouen, after the government have patched their wounded and added up the cost of what they left behind, Spain may well begin to feel that narrowing their Protectorate down to the countryside around Ceuta—as Britain has the country around Gibraltar—would be of benefit. And the brothers Abd el-Krim would be a powerful presence across a negotiating table. They may ride on horseback and dress in handspun robes, but do not make the mistake of picturing them as tribal barbarians. They are educated men with subtle minds, who would give their lives for the sake of their Republic.”
“And you wish to convince both Lyautey and Abd el-Krim that they need not be enemies?”
“I—we—wish fervently to at least delay any confrontation.”
“But the Rifi are moving south into the Werghal Valley.”
“How do you know this?” Ali’s voice said that it was no surprise to him.
Holmes turned. “The Maréchal told me. He also said that, militarily speaking, the Rifi had little choice.”
“As I said, a wise man. It is true that, as things stand, there appears no alternative. The French border divides families. The brothers of those families must ride to their support. Their manhood demands it.”
“While French authority equally demands that it defend the borders it has been given, even when those borders are nonsensical.”
“Two men alone can stop it, insh’Allah .”
“I do see that.” Holmes pushed his shoulder off the glass and walked back to the fire. “And you wish me to convince the Resident General of Morocco that he can trust the word of his sworn enemy. That he can place his life and the future of the country in the hands of a man who can only wish him, and all other French, dead.”
“He can, because Mahmoud and I have said so.”
“Two more men he has no reason to believe.”
“If Lyautey trusts you, he will trust us.” Ali glanced up from incising tiny textures into the creature’s neck.
Holmes held the other man’s eyes. “The odd thing is, you are probably right.”
“But it must be soon. Abd el-Krim has agreed—in general terms—to be within a day’s ride of here on Monday, insh’Allah .”
“What, in two days? Impossible!”
“Once the French Christmas is over, troops from Fez will begin to move into the Werghal.”
“How do you know all these— No, don’t tell me.” With the number of factions here, spies would be thick on the ground.
“I suggest that Abd el-Krim be permitted two men: Mahmoud and me. And that Lyautey be allowed the same number. One of whom, I hope, will be you, Holmes.”
He blew off the tiny carving, and set it onto the small table: a pony, two inches high, with an arch to its neck that promised mischief.
“There remain two problems,” he added.
Holmes gave a cough of laughter. “Only two?”
“Primarily two. First, the French mission is permeated with spies. If Abd el-Krim has an ear into the Maréchal’s business, it should be assumed that everyone from the Sultan to the Spanish do as well.”
“So the other member of Lyautey’s party must be chosen with care. And the second problem?”
“A common tongue. The Emir speaks Spanish and Arabic but little French. I would suspect the reverse is true of Lyautey?”
“There’d be no reason for him to know more than a smattering of Spanish, although he might surprise me. He has taught himself some Arabic, but it is more formal and theoretical
“Why?” he asked, his back to the room. “What are you after?”
“Till now, the Rif Rebellion has pushed exclusively north, against Spain. If it matters at all to this discussion, Mahmoud and I happen to believe that the Rifi have a right to their land, but opinion notwithstanding, the Emir is on the brink of forcing Spain to the negotiating table. By spring, when the Spanish people have buried their dead and filled their eyes with newspaper images of the Spanish retreat from Chaouen, after the government have patched their wounded and added up the cost of what they left behind, Spain may well begin to feel that narrowing their Protectorate down to the countryside around Ceuta—as Britain has the country around Gibraltar—would be of benefit. And the brothers Abd el-Krim would be a powerful presence across a negotiating table. They may ride on horseback and dress in handspun robes, but do not make the mistake of picturing them as tribal barbarians. They are educated men with subtle minds, who would give their lives for the sake of their Republic.”
“And you wish to convince both Lyautey and Abd el-Krim that they need not be enemies?”
“I—we—wish fervently to at least delay any confrontation.”
“But the Rifi are moving south into the Werghal Valley.”
“How do you know this?” Ali’s voice said that it was no surprise to him.
Holmes turned. “The Maréchal told me. He also said that, militarily speaking, the Rifi had little choice.”
“As I said, a wise man. It is true that, as things stand, there appears no alternative. The French border divides families. The brothers of those families must ride to their support. Their manhood demands it.”
“While French authority equally demands that it defend the borders it has been given, even when those borders are nonsensical.”
“Two men alone can stop it, insh’Allah .”
“I do see that.” Holmes pushed his shoulder off the glass and walked back to the fire. “And you wish me to convince the Resident General of Morocco that he can trust the word of his sworn enemy. That he can place his life and the future of the country in the hands of a man who can only wish him, and all other French, dead.”
“He can, because Mahmoud and I have said so.”
“Two more men he has no reason to believe.”
“If Lyautey trusts you, he will trust us.” Ali glanced up from incising tiny textures into the creature’s neck.
Holmes held the other man’s eyes. “The odd thing is, you are probably right.”
“But it must be soon. Abd el-Krim has agreed—in general terms—to be within a day’s ride of here on Monday, insh’Allah .”
“What, in two days? Impossible!”
“Once the French Christmas is over, troops from Fez will begin to move into the Werghal.”
“How do you know all these— No, don’t tell me.” With the number of factions here, spies would be thick on the ground.
“I suggest that Abd el-Krim be permitted two men: Mahmoud and me. And that Lyautey be allowed the same number. One of whom, I hope, will be you, Holmes.”
He blew off the tiny carving, and set it onto the small table: a pony, two inches high, with an arch to its neck that promised mischief.
“There remain two problems,” he added.
Holmes gave a cough of laughter. “Only two?”
“Primarily two. First, the French mission is permeated with spies. If Abd el-Krim has an ear into the Maréchal’s business, it should be assumed that everyone from the Sultan to the Spanish do as well.”
“So the other member of Lyautey’s party must be chosen with care. And the second problem?”
“A common tongue. The Emir speaks Spanish and Arabic but little French. I would suspect the reverse is true of Lyautey?”
“There’d be no reason for him to know more than a smattering of Spanish, although he might surprise me. He has taught himself some Arabic, but it is more formal and theoretical
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