Chapter 14 · Untitled Chapter

The chill that precedes the call to prayer came through the heavy stone walls before any light reached the window slats.

Bandar moved first, slipping from the edge of the mattress with the quiet balance of a man used to waking without disturbing the room. He pulled on his soft indoor thobe, leaving the collar unfastened, and walked across the dark carpet toward the low mahogany console where the landline phone sat like an iron weight.

The room smelled faintly of musk, clean linen, and the spent wood of the brazier from earlier in the evening. Beyond the thick double doors of the private wing, the hall had subsided into that uneasy, suspended silence peculiar to houses full of men waiting to extract a concession.

He lifted the heavy glass carafe from the silver tray beside the telephone. The water poured with a clear, small ripple, catching the faint reflection of the amber nightlamp.