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Updated: June 16, 2025
The thing that used to be my body was turned into an abomination that no sane creature could look upon without a shudder. And as for my soul, devils took possession, so that even the Wandis were afraid. They dare not touch me now. I have trampled them, I have tortured them, I have killed them. They fly from me like sheep. Yet, if I lead, they follow.
"By the mercy of Allah, we have reached the Great Desert, and are even now in the company of El Azra, the spice merchant. We shall travel with his caravan in safety." "But how on earth did we get here?" questioned Herne. Hassan was eager to explain. "We escaped by night from Wanda three days ago, the Prophet of the Wandis himself assisting us. You were wounded, effendi, and without understanding.
Herne groaned. It was only what he had expected, but the memory of the boy's face with its eager eyes was upon him. The pity of it! The vast, irretrievable waste! "Then he is dead?" he said. The Arab spread out his hands. "Allah knows. But the Wandis do not always slay their prisoners, effendi. The old and the useless ones they burn, but the strong ones they save alive. It may be that he lives."
The Prophet of the Wandis bore you on his camel. It was a journey of many dangers, but Allah protected us, and guided us to this oasis, sending also El Azra to our succour. It is a strong caravan, effendi. We shall be safe with him." But here Herne suddenly broke in upon his complacence. "It was not my intention to leave Wanda," he said, "till I had done what I went to do. I must go back."
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