The diviner Yazzal said, “The reality of the affliction remains the same no matter what causes it.”
Ewar straightened himself, fastened his veil across his nose, and breathed deeply, as if preparing for a long debate. Then he said, “I wanted to say that our grandfathers’ stories did not teach us to flee from an enemy we can see and hear.”
Elelli retorted gleefully, “But the disease is an affliction that we cannot see or hear, and we have yet to grasp its secret.”
“We’ve seen the affliction with our eyes and heard it with our own ears, since we have seen the perpetrator.”
The diviner protested loudly, “What proof is there that he’s the perpetrator?”
“When this intruder openly lambastes our sedentary life and advocates nomadism day and night, should we quarrel about the necessary level of proof?”
Elelli, however, became even more stubborn: “Words are not deeds; a curse is not a cause.”
The warrior Emmar laughed, and then the chief merchant intervened, “If the stranger has brought the affliction to the oasis, he has also brought relief.”
Ewar said disapprovingly, “What relief are you talking about?”
Amghar was silent for a time and stole a glance at the swarm of elders. He also glanced at the chief. Then he bowed his head and stammered, “The antidote!”
Outside the wind howled. Inside, silence prevailed. Suddenly the idiot shouted, “What antidote do you mean?”
The nobles exchanged glances. Some dug in the earth with their fingers, carving obscure symbols. Ewar replied, “Perhaps he has helped those who have consulted him in order to put people off the scent. Perhaps like any strategist he had his own reasons. But we should not forget that the series of miscarriages has not ceased.”
Edahi shouted at the top of his lungs, “The miscarriages haven’t ceased because the scoundrel hasn’t stopped sprinkling his hateful herbs in the spring’s water. I told you his secret right from the start, but you didn’t believe me.”
The chief merchant protested, “A person who treats infertility would not deliberately cause miscarriages.”
The diviner supported his opinion: “How can we accuse a man of starting an epidemic when he treats its victims?”
The idiot once again exploded, “The depraved fellow only does that to ward off suspicions. The strategist only does that to camouflage his trap.”
Ewar shouted, “You’re right. He’s only done that to hide his trap. I add my voice to this idiot’s.”
The chief merchant said, “We can’t accept Edahi’s testimony, since we know the fool has publicly declared his hatred for the stranger from day one.”
The chief took up the defense, “We can’t term a spontaneous outburst of emotion ‘hatred’.”
Elelli yelled, “Yes, definitely, spontaneous hatred is the worst form. So watch out!”
The idiot again shouted, “I don’t deny hating him from the first day, but that’s because I grasped his secret.”
More than one voice inquired, “Do you really know his secret?”
The fool remained silent, and the warrior said, “Tell us his secret.”
Edahi bowed his head. His eyes glistened with pain and he began to tremble. He stammered, “I can’t.”
The nobles exchanged astonished looks, and the diviner asked, “Why not?”
The idiot said in a choked voice, “Because his secret is inseparable from mine.”
3 The Evidence
The diviner started on a walk. Whenever the townsfolk saw him set off across the northern wastelands swathed in dark shadows, they would say he was begging for a prophecy. That night, too, he was crossing the wasteland to the north when his path was blocked by a specter that appeared suddenly but said nothing. It walked for a few paces beside him before he recognized from its physique that it was the chief. After going some distance together silently, Ewar said, “A man is inevitably plagued by doubts.”
When Yazzal did not answer, the ruler asked, “Do you believe in omens?”
“Who doesn’t?”
“I meant to say that even if the visitor hasn’t committed any offense, he may still be the kind of person who can be culpable without committing a crime.”
He was silent for a split second before offering this clarification: “I mean he’s from a faction that has inherited sins from ancestors.”
“I don’t know. What’s certain is that some people bring a promise of rain and others an ill omen.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. I mean, even if the stranger doesn’t have some plot up his sleeve, he’s no doubt ill-omened.”
He was silent as they continued their hike. With his sandal he rolled a stone out of his way. Then he said, “Doesn’t the Law authorize banishment of an ill-omened intruder?”
“Banishment is a punishment. The Law does not authorize punishment on the basis of suspicions.”
Ewar was silent once again. He was silent for a long time and then suddenly stopped, blocking the diviner with his body. In a muffled voice he asked, “Answer this question for me now: When does the Law authorize punishment?”
Without any hesitation the diviner replied, “When there’s evidence!”
“Evidence?”
Yazzal did not respond, and so Ewar said menacingly, “But where’s the evidence? There’s no clear-cut evidence anywhere in our world.”
“Here, you’ve answered the question.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that the difficulty of rendering a verdict against someone arises from the difficulty of obtaining clear-cut evidence.”
“But evil-doers will ruin the earth and turn upside down the lives of oppressed people without our being able to pinpoint the truth of what you call ‘evidence’ and I term ‘slander’.”
“Do you know why? It’s because the Law knows that there is nothing in the created world more difficult than passing judgment on a man for an offense.”
“Is that because we all commit offenses?”
“I don’t know, but generations have learned from trial and error that it is the lesser of two evils for the masses to experience injustice than for one man to be wrongly convicted.”
“I bet this is, in and of itself, a scourge. I bet this is what the tribes call a calamity.”
“We are not heroic when we punish. We are heroic when we forgive. That’s what the Law says.”
Ewar swayed to the right and left and repeated, as if wailing a lament, “The Law, the Law; how inhumane are the commandments of the Law!”
4 The Truth
Ewar, however, did not yield. The following night he went off with Elelli to debate what constituted decisive evidence. While they sat together on a hill overlooking the buildings of the oasis from the north, he told his companion, “Yesterday I spoke with Yazzal about punishment. Today I want to ask your advice about deliverance. So won’t you open your heart to my words?”
“You find me all ears.”
“The fact is that I’ll tell you a secret that may serve as evidence.”
Elelli gazed at the area cluttered with mud-brick homes and flooded by the evening’s darkness while Ewar added, “The jenny master once saved my life.”
The intellect’s advocate, however, did not turn or evince any curiosity. He continued to stare out into the open, without displaying any interest. So his companion explained, “During one of my visits to the oasis I was stricken by smallpox. When I returned to the desert with the infection, the tribe scattered and left me all alone in a tent.”
The expression in Elelli’s eyes was indecipherable and so the narrator rushed on with his story: “My body was wasted, I had abandoned the desert, and insolent jinn were circling my head when a messenger stormed into the tent.”
He fell silent and gazed at the deserted area, which was flooded by the gloom of evening. He added even more precipitously, “The jenny master cared for me and brought me back to the desert with a herbal balm.”
He stopped. He was
hyperventilating. The right word deserted his lips, but his companion did not come to his rescue. Silence reigned until he continued, “Do you get my drift?”
His companion did not reply, and so the narrator said, “Herbs are an ancient weapon in the jenny master’s hands.”
Noticing an inquisitive expression in Elelli’s eyes, Ewar explained, “A person who can use herbs as an antidote can use herbs to cause an epidemic. You can see that.”
The inquisitive look in his companion’s eyes was replaced by a disinterested one. He did not budge from his position, facing the wasteland.
Ewar said, “Don’t you see that what I say confirms what the fool said? Isn’t this evidence enough?”
Without forsaking his prayer, which was directed to the wasteland, Elelli responded coldly, “This does not constitute evidence.”
“Why not?”
“Evidence assumes witnesses, and there are no witnesses for your claims or for those of the fool.”
Ewar was silent, and then said despairingly, “You two seem to be acting as defense attorneys for the plague’s perpetrator, not as prosecutors.”
“What?”
“Anyone who listens to the diviner or to the sage would inevitably assert that.”
“You shouldn’t forget that we are speaking for the Law, not for ourselves.”
“I don’t believe the Law can authorize neglect of an affair that spreads ruin through the land.”
“To authorize a punishment, the Law requires only clear evidence.”
“But clear evidence may be elusive when the case concerns the work of a strategist.”
“If the evidence is elusive, then the affliction is the punishment.”
“What are you saying?”
“We shouldn’t punish an infectious person if we ascertain that the infection he brings is itself a secret punishment.”
“Shouldn’t we defend our people when annihilation threatens them?”
“Your defense is moot if the affliction is a punishment for an offense.”
“Offense?”
“Doesn’t the jenny master consider sedentary life to be an offense?”
The chief jumped to his feet and asked pointedly, “Is everything the jenny master thinks true?”
Elelli responded coldly, without once ceasing his spiritual journey through the empty spaces, “I don’t know. Only the spirit world knows. Time will reveal the truth.”
5 Injustice
Some days later, the ruler invited the nobles to a banquet. He slaughtered several head of livestock and provided meat and other foods for his guests but did not disclose the secret reason for these propitiatory sacrifices.
The elders gathered inside his home. As usual, the fool got the ball rolling at the assembly: “Today we have the right to saddle the mount.”
As usual, smiles were evident in their eyes, but the elders waited for the ruler – not his shadow – to speak. After a strained silence, the ruler was forced to take charge: “The time has come for us to defend ourselves.”
The nobles stealthily exchanged glances but waited patiently.
The ruler added, “If we wait any longer, the oasis will be destroyed and we will have endangered the lives of our citizens.”
Strained silence reigned once more. Then Ewar continued with all the authority of a ruler, “You entrusted me with sovereignty over the oasis one day. I will have betrayed your trust if I refrain from action any longer. What do you think?”
No one spoke. Ewar gestured to the diviner. Yazzal swayed as if in pain. Before speaking he sketched a design in the dirt. “The question is not what we think but what you want us to do.”
“What do herdsmen do to a mangy camel when it enters a herd?”
Edahi shouted loudly, “It’s chased away in the most vigorous fashion.”
Smiles were visible in most eyes. Elelli intervened: “We know what herdsmen do when a mangy camel comes to a herd but don’t know what desert elders do when a descent group’s tents are invaded by a plague’s carrier.”
He gave Ewar a telling look, which the ruler ignored. Instead he remarked, “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“I meant to say that the wise men of the desert do not banish a plague-ridden individual under such circumstances. They abandon the camp site to him and flee with the tribe to another land.”
The two men exchanged a glance, a covert glance, a coded glance that not even the cunning could decipher. Ewar averted his eyes and then said with artificial coldness, “That’s what the base man is betting on.”
Edahi, however, again shouted, “Do you want us to give up without a fight?”
The diviner shot back, “Acceptance of a decree of the spirit world is not surrender.”
Amghar spoke for the first time: “What harm would it do us to shake off lethargy’s dust and to try living as nomads again?”
The fool burst out laughing. Inclining his skinny body toward the chief merchant he whispered loud enough for everyone to hear: “I’m afraid you’ll be the first to suffer, because you’ll have to be extremely clever to find customers for your wares in the wasteland.”
The chief merchant replied confidently: “The astute merchant will never lack for customers to purchase his merchandise. According to the customary law of merchants, doing business in an oasis or in the open countryside is equivalent, because our calculations are not based on the lay of the land but on the man who moves across the land.”
The warrior decided to speak as well: “I am ready to serve our master. If you resolve to resort to force, my sword is yours to command.”
Elelli smiled disdainfully. After staring at Ewar for a long time he asked, “Does our master recall our discussion of the Law?”
When Ewar nodded his turbaned head in the affirmative, Elelli added, “If you reach some decision, I hope you will not decide on something contrary to the Law.”
The chief asked in a chiefly voice, “Should the commandments of the Law pose a stumbling block for someone who decides to defend himself?”
“The Law will not be a stumbling block when clear evidence is presented for the case.”
“Are we revisiting the issue of clear evidence?”
“It is the Law that demands clear evidence, not us.”
“But isn’t the leader of the people justified in violating the law when he thinks this necessary to save his people?”
A buzz of comments traveled through the group. Turbans bumped against one another and bodies drew closer together. Some tongues murmured confidentially. Other tongues publicly expressed their disapproval. Even the fool huddled in a corner with his head down. Meanwhile, to express his indignation, the warrior brandished in the air his fist, which resembled a camel’s hoof. The turmoil was followed by a charged silence.
The diviner asked mournfully, “Does our master understand the implications of willful disobedience of the Law?”
Ewar did not respond, and so Elelli spoke on behalf of the diviner. “This is what – in nomenclature passed down by previous generations – is known as injustice.”
6 The Comment
On the way back to the settlement the diviner walked with the sage. They followed the western trail that cut through the palm grove before turning south to head toward the houses. They went some distance in silence, but before they reached the lush grove of palms, Yazzal asked, “There must be some secret motive for Ewar’s determination to punish Isan.”
Elelli did not respond and so his companion goaded him to speak: “I discerned a prophecy in the look you two exchanged. Don’t deny it!”
The sage laughed before confessing, “Even if I wanted to conceal a secret, I couldn’t hide it from a diviner. Ewar confided to me that they had once been fond of each other.”
“Fond?”
“If you don’t care to term it fondness then call it vengeance.”
“Is it really vengeance?”
“What should we call an attack that recompenses a good deed, if we don�
��t use the technical term: vengeance?” “I understand. . . .”
“The jenny master saved Ewar’s life from smallpox once.
He found him all alone in a tent after he had been deserted by his tribe.”
“Oh, I understand. We should never save the life of one whom the spirit world has never considered saving.”
“He saved his life with a blend of herbs.”
“Did you say herbs?”
“Ewar quizzed me a few days ago to learn whether a good deed someone performed in the past can be used as an argument against him today.”
“How did you respond?”
“I responded as I was obliged to. I told him the matter requires witnesses.”
The diviner was silent for a time. He dodged a date-stalk that blocked the path. Then he said confidently: “If he had asked me I would have told him that the evidence would not be binding even if there was a witness.”
“The fact is that another doubt troubles me.”
“Explain.”
“I have an intuition that there’s some other secret.”
“Intuitions are more convincing than proofs at times, for occasionally an intuition is a prophecy.”
“A man does not take revenge on another man simply to punish a good turn.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“An antidote for a man’s hostility is never lacking unless a woman is involved.”
“I was sure you would say that.”
“You would not be a diviner if you did not believe that.”
“But does the affair with the woman go back to the years of desert migration or to. . . .”
The sage interrupted him, “Tahala confided to me Tamanokalt’s indignation.”
“A wife’s indignation opens the door to a conspiracy.”
“Each of the sisters was able to become pregnant thanks to the stranger’s amulets, except for Tamanokalt.”
“No one else has told me that.”
Seven Veils of Seth Page 15
