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much to speak with you. Uncle Hassanein told him that tomorrow you may have visitors." I was relieved to hear that Friedlander Bey was in better shape than I was. I hoped that he might be able to fill in some of the gaps in my recollection. "How long have I been here?"
She did some mental figuring, then replied, "Twelve days. The Bani Salim planned to remain in Bir Balagh only three days, but Uncle Hassanein decided to stay until you and the old shaykh were fit to travel. Some of the tribe are angry about that, especially bin Musaid."
"You mentioned him before. Who is this bin Musaid?"
Noora lowered her eyes and spoke in a low voice. "He desires to marry me," she said.
"Uh huh. And how do you feel about him?"
She looked into my face. I could see anger in her eyes, although I couldn't tell if it was directed at me or her suitor. She stood up and walked out of the tent without saying another word.
I wished she hadn't done that. I'd meant to ask her for something to eat, and to pass the word to her uncle that I'd like another jolt of Sonneine. Instead, I just tried to find a comfortable position to lie in, and I thought about what Noora had told me. Papa and I had almost died in this wilderness, but I didn't yet know whom to blame that on. I wouldn't be surprised if it was all connected to Lieutenant Hajjar, and through him to Reda Abu Adil. The last thing I remem-bered was sitting on that suborbital shuttle, waiting for it to take off. Everything that came after—the flight itself, the arrival at the destination, and whatever events had led me into the middle of the desert—was still missing from my memory. I hoped it would all come back as I got stronger, or that Papa had a clearer idea of what had happened.
I decided to focus my rage on Abu Adil. I knew that although I felt peaceful enough now, I was still in deadly peril. For one thing, even if the Bani Salim permitted us to accompany them to Mughshin—wherever the hell that was—it would be very difficult to arrange our travel back to the city. We couldn't just show up again without risking arrest. We'd have to avoid Papa's mansion, and it would be very dangerous for me to set foot in the Budayeen.
All that was in the future, however. We had more immediate things to worry about. I had no real assurance that the Bani Salim would remain friendly. I guessed that Bedu hospitality required them to nurse Papa and me back to health. After that, all bets were off. When we were able to fend for ourselves again, the tribe might even capture us and turn us over to our enemies. There might be reward money in it for them. It would be a mistake to let our guard down too far. I knew one thing for certain: if Hajjar and Abu Adil were responsible for what happened to us after we left the shuttle, they would pay dearly for it. I would swear an oath to that effect. My grim thoughts were interrupted by Hassanein, who gave me a cheerful greeting. "Here, O Shaykh," he said, "you may eat." He gave me a round, flat piece of unleavened bread and a bowl of some ghastly white fluid. I looked up at him. "Camel's milk," he said. I'd been afraid he was going to say that.
"Bismillah," I murmured. I broke a piece of bread and ate it, then sipped from the bowl. The camel's milk wasn't bad, actually. It was certainly much easier to get down than the water in the goatskin bag.
Shaykh Hassanein squatted on his heels beside me. "Some of the Bani Salim are restless," he said, "and they say that if we wait here too long, we won't get as much money for our camels in Mughshin. Also, we must find somewhere else to graze the animals. You must be ready to travel in two days." "Sure, be ready when you are." Ha ha, I thought. I was just putting up a noble front.
He nodded. ."Eat some more bread. Later, Noora will bring you some dates and tea. Tonight, if you wish, you may have a little roasted goat."
I was so hungry that I'd have gnawed an uncooked carcass. There was sand in the bread and grit in the milk, but I