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insects, shreds spider webs. From the perspective of an
ant, it is a cataclysmic thing. If we leave it to him, our works are
but gossamer shimmering in the wind, to be torn aside in his
passing.”
    Brutus heaved a great sigh and
shook his head, unmoved and exasperated. “Ahmed, I have killed
hundreds, and watched many of my brothers fall. Do you not think I
have made peace with this notion long ago? I live and die by
Ilaweh’s will, as do all my men. I am no plant in a garden,
and neither are you.”
    “Then what are we?”
    “Swords. Weapons in
Ilaweh’s hands, instruments of his will. We may individually
dull and break from the power of his blows, but we are many.”
    Ahmed furrowed his brow,
straining to appreciate the thought. “Then who is our enemy?”
    “Villains. Liars.
Thieves. Anyone who tries to take more than his fair share, or
strikes at the innocent.”
    Ahmed shook his head.
“Nebulous. Anyone could be our enemy, then.”
    “Aye, it is so. Any
fool.”
    Ahmed sighed, waving the
discussion aside. None of it truly matched reality. Allegories
rarely did. “Will you not at long last hear me? I tell you, I
know this in my heart. Ilaweh wills that we stay. He has work for
us. The prophesy – !”
    “I have heard you. You
have not heard me. I do what I think is best, just as you. I accept
the consequences.”
    Ahmed bristled at this, and
Brutus stiffened, muscles tensing for a fight, but Ahmed knew now
that this battle could not be won by physical blows. “And the
rest of your men?” he asked, his voice quiet and grim. “Your
decision is for them as well.”
    “They are not my men if
they do not feel the same.” Brutus glowered at him, now. “And
you? Do you quiver in fear, perhaps, that Ilaweh’s will might
end your life?”
    Ahmed shook his head, thinking
of Yazid again. “No. Only that I might fail him.” As
I am now. He closed his eyes,
trying to find some other words, but there were none. For good or
ill, the decision had already been made.
    Brutus clapped a hand on the
younger man’s shoulder. “Then let us rest. Ilaweh’s
will be done.”
    Ahmed looked back out over the
waves, feeling helpless, as the disc of the sun dipped below the
horizon. “It surely will.”

    Ahmed woke to the sound of
crashing timbers and shouting men. There was no doubt in his mind as
to why. The only real question was who would survive.
    It was pitch black. There
should have been lanterns burning! He leapt from his hammock and
staggered, almost falling as the deck ambushed him from an
unexpected direction. It was not flat beneath him as it should be.
Ahmed was no seaman, but even he knew this was a bad thing. How
could the ship stay afloat if it tilted and filled with water?
    “Ahmed!” Brutus
shouted from his cabin. There was
an odd edge to his voice, enough to set Ahmed's intuition singing. This will not be good.
    “Here! I'm coming!”
Ahmed felt his way along in the dark, trying to overcome the
disorienting sensation that he was climbing downhill, at last
finding the opening between their cabins. There was no privacy
aboard a ship, so there was no door to battle, only a makeshift
curtain they had hung. As he struggled through the opening, light
flared as Brutus adjusted the wick of a lantern had had somehow
salvaged.
    Ahmed almost wished it were
still dark. The ceiling above Brutus’s hammock was splintered,
and a huge spar of wood had fallen on him. Dark water swirled about
his ankles, deepening with each moment. Brutus held the lantern in
an awkward manner, tilted almost to spilling its oil on the floor,
its flickering light casting shadows skittering over a skewed,
slanted world.
    Brutus grimaced and beckoned
Ahmed forward. “To me! Quickly, before it is too late!”
    Ahmed leapt across the tilted
deck and seized the massive weight pressing Brutus to the floor. He
hauled at it with all his might. Brutus, too, pushed against it, the
cords in his neck popping out from exertion. The spar moved,