Chapter Eighteen
Qadim’s entire body went rigid. The elders, here? And in company with Hasan al-Abyad?
Beside him, Madison was still as well, clearly unsure as to what she should do next.
Do nothing, he thought, knowing she could not hear him, but at the same time praying she might be able to read something from his expression. For I must handle this.
Fists knotted in the folds of his robe, he took a step forward. He knew he must at least do lip service to the customs a situation like this demanded, and so he bowed from the waist, then straightened and said, “Elders, you honor me by your presence.” But I cannot say the same for you, Hasan.
“Indeed,” said Ibram, eldest of elders. His voice was dryer than the desert which surrounded this town. “I believe you do not feel nearly that hono
