As the pair steeped from the bloody fighting pit the Overseer made one last plea.
"Please, take it back, I dont want to see!" Amira paused, framed by the stone lintel of the door arch, and turned to look at the man. Tears glittered on his cheeks and his face and sand from the floor was stuck to the mucus leaking from his nose.
"What Allah has ordained let no man disrupt," she said austerely and then reached into her robs to produce a pouch of dark leather. It clinked profitable as she hefted it for a moment and then tossed it onto the floor by the mans face with a metallic clatter. Pieces of bright silver from half a dozen different cities spilled out onto the floor.
"The payment for three slaves, much may it profit you," she mocked before turning and striding through the door.
They picked there way through the market place as the son rose turning the famed silver domes of Sharsaya blinding white. The wailing prayer began summoning people to prayer. Many people were streaming towards the mosque but many simply turned to the east and made the abbreviated prayer of the traveller. Amaria did likewise touching her head and heart and whispering the words of the Prayer of Dawn by rote. The task completed she resumed walking considering the slaves question.
"I require only that you do as I instruct, in time, things will become clearer too you," she said pressing through the crowd. Pausing she spoke briefly to a fruit vendor and purchased a handful of dried dates and a pomegranate from a crooked looking Bedouin with a scarred face. She passed the dates to Bin Hakeem and cracked the pomegranate in two and began to eat the seed with smooth graceful motions. They moved through the produce area to where more permenant stalls and even a few stores stood. Merchants from a dozen cities extolled the virtues of brass ware, steel, perfume, dye and a hundred other things besides, their cries struggling to compete with the call to prayer.
"We are going to speak to a man," she expounded as they reached a row of dingy shop fronts.
"He is dangerous, be wary," she instructed before leading the way to a corner store and pressing carefully through the curtain of grass beads which hung like seaweed to keep the worst of the dust and insects from entering. The heat of the day was noticeable by the cool of the interior of the shop. Strange items littered the simple wooden shelves, illuminated manuscripts, baubles carved from amber and jade, intricate series of brass rings, feathers from exotic birds, and a dozen other things to exotic to yield an easy label. In the corner facing towards the east and kneeling on a prayer mat, an old man with a dark grey beard knelt stiffly, arthritic joints admitting the ritual only grudgingly. His hearing was sharp though for as they entered he turned with a pleasant smile on his face. When his eyes fell on Amira they widened with panic and he scrambled back.
"YOU!" he rasped, glancing around for an escape but the only exit was directly passed them, or through one of the windows that he had sensibly barred.
"Hello Abdul, it has been a long time," Amira said in her calm inflectionless voice.
"Look listen, I don't have it, on my soul before Allah I don't know where it is!" He seemed about ready to try and throw himself through a window as she calmly advanced upon him.
"Oh I believe you Abdul, you wouldn't lie to me." That mocking smile again.
"But you can show us a true vision, cant you Abudl?" she purred, still moving forward and pinning him against the wall with her presence. He closed his eyes tightly and he cowered but a little hope flared in his voice.
"You know... you know I cant show you..." he began but she cut him off with a tsk tsk.
"Not me," she agreed and pointed to the slave.
"Give him the vision I require."
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