CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A gaggle of some eight children scurried over to Faris. It was a mixture of boys and girls ages five to fifteen, and the smaller ones latched on to Faris’ legs, nearly toppling him.
“Gently, my spring flowers, gently!” Faris scolded them as he swayed back and forth. “What is the matter?”
“Could I mind the corral for you, Father?” the oldest boy pleaded with him. “Or perhaps just for an hour?”
Faris gestured to Ben. “Not today, my boy. An important customer has come to bless us with his coin.”
The children stared at Ben as if he was made of gold. The oldest boy stepped forward and bowed his head to Ben. “We thank you for your patronage, sir. How might we serve you this fine day?”
Ben smiled at the eager young man. “Your finest wagon and qasi. And see if your
