AHMAD
Walking away from the counsel between the elders of his own tribe and those of the Baobab tribe, Ahmad felt heavy in his heart, as though the weight of a granite boulder had been laid across his shoulders. Once he had seen his little sister on her way back to their mother's tent, he had spoken with his father and learned why he and Yusef had been summoned to the counsel of elders. They had been chosen to be the delegates who would approach the rebellious young of the Painted Sand tribe, to talk to them, find out what they wanted. Ahmad had accepted the assignment without protest, just as he had accepted the abortive chore of taking the five gift horses north a few days earlier. At this stage, he doubted he would be able to accomplish anything. It was already too late, just as it had been with the horses. Whatever was going to happen, he had a feeling it had already begun. Maybe, if he had been given the chance to speak with Fouad, he might have been able to do something...but now? Now it was too late.
And there was this thing with Chani. While it was perfectly like her to wander off, she had never done it before when the tribe was in a time of crisis. Nor had she stayed gone for long. Usually, she turned up within an hour or so, having been to the stream to bathe, or to the place where the horses were kept. She was fond of the horses and often went to visit them. He would be sure to look for her there. Shushila would not have strayed that far in her search. Absently, he fingered the shard of obsidian that hung on the cord around his neck.
Why was all of this happening now, when Qirfah was so near?
Buried in thought, Ahmad cut through the market ground on his way to where the Painted Sand horses were set to graze. A lot of the Baobabs were there with their baskets and handcrafts on display for trade with members of his tribe. Ordinarily, he would have taken the time to look as the craftmanship of the Baobab tribe was legendary, but this time he hurried through, scarcely looking to one side or the other. It was only when the figure of a woman stepped out and barred his path that he stopped. For a fleeting instant his breath caught in his throat... Qirfah! But the thrill of the encounter vanished quickly. It was not she, but her sister Qamar, who blocked his passage. Remembering her well, Ahmad gave her a smile and a short bow.
"Qamar!" he said pleasantly. He was glad to see her, but the timing was bad. A sense of urgency haunted him over Chani's disappearance. Even so, an opportunity to gain news of, or even to speak of, Qirfah was a rarity. He couldn't tary and chat with Qamar as he would have liked, but he would not pass her by completely, either. "You are as beautiful as ever. How is your husband, Nasr?" He cast a quick glance around, only half looking for Nasr. His real hope was that Qirfah might be there as well. He may have promised not to seek her out, but a chance encounter in his own camp could hardly be held against him. "Did he accompany you?"
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