Read Book 4 - The Fire in His Hands for Free Online Page B

to an opinion. Even a wrong
    one.”
    Fuad shut up.
    Yousif virtually owned his younger brother. Fuad seemed to have no imagination or
    aspirations of his own. He was a mirror of Yousif, the Wahlig’s far-reaching right hand, a sledge used to hammer out another’s dreams. Which was not to say that he always agreed. He and
    Yousif sometimes argued bitterly, especially when the latter was pushing an innovation.
    Sometimes Fuad won his point. But once a decision had been handed down he would support it
    to the death.
    “Wahlig—”
    “Be silent a moment, Megelin. Let me tell you where you’re wrong.” Yousif rearranged his
    cushions. “This is going to be long-winded. Get comfortable.”
    Radetic considered Yousif’s tent to be furnished in garish, barbarous taste. The Children of
    Hammad al Nakir, when they could afford it, surrounded themselves with intense color. The
    reds, greens, yellows and blues around Yousif so clashed that Radetic could almost hear their conflict.
    “Fuad, see if you can find some refreshments while I start to educate our educator. Megelin,
    you’re wrong because you’re too convinced of the correctness of your own viewpoint. When you
    look around here you don’t see a culture. You see barbarians. You hear our religious arguments and can’t believe we take them seriously because you can’t. I grant you, a lot of my people don’t either. But the majority do.
    “As for El Murid and his henchman, you see only a deranged boy and a bandit. I see a huge
    problem. The boy is saying things everyone wants to hear. And believe. And Nassef just might
    have the genius to carve out El Murid’s new Empire. The two together might have an
    overpowering attraction for our children. Our children, otherwise, have no other hope than to relive our yesterdays.
    “You see Nassef as a bandit because he has raided caravans. What makes him remarkable
    and dangerous isn’t the fact of his crimes, but the skill with which he committed them. If he ever rises above theft in God’s name to making war in God’s name, then God help us. Because he’ll
    probably destroy us.
    “Megelin, nobody is going to laugh if El Murid speaks. Nobody. And as a speaker he is as
    dangerous as Nassef is as a fighter. His speeches are creating the weapons Nassef needs to rise above banditry.
    “The boy’s movement is at a crossroads. And he knows it. That’s why he came to Al
    Rhemish this year. After Disharhun he’ll either be discredited and fade away, or he’ll begin
    sweeping the desert like a sandstorm. If we have to trump up charges to stop that, we will.”
    Fuad returned with a lemonade-like drink. Megelin and Yousif accepted their portions. Fuad
    seated himself quietly, out of the way.
    Radetic, squatting on a scarlet pillow, took a sip, then said, “And Fuad wonders why I think
    you a barbarous people.”
    “My brother has never visited Hellin Daimiel. I have. I can believe that your people would
    laugh a messiah out of business. You’re all cynics. And you don’t need that kind of leader.
    “We do, Megelin. The heart of me craves an El Murid. He’s telling me exactly what my heart
    wants to hear. I want to believe that we’re the Chosen People. I want to believe that it’s our destiny to master the world. I want something, anything, to make the centuries since the Fall worthwhile.
    “I want to believe that the Fall itself was the work of an Evil One. Fuad wants to believe. My cousin the King would like to believe. Unfortunately, we’re old enough to recognize gossamer on the wind. A deadly gossamer.
    “Megelin, that boy is a death merchant. He’s put it in pretty packages, but he’s selling
    another Fall. If we turn to him, if we break out of Hammad al Nakir in order to convert the
    pagan and resurrect the Empire, we’ll be destroyed. Those of us who have been across the Sahel realize that the world out there isn’t the one conquered by Ilkazar.
    “We don’t have the numbers, the resources, the arms,