Chapter 21 · Chapter 21

By midmorning, the heavy mallets were striking against cedar pegs, echoing across the stony wash as the encampment yielded to the dust. The wool of the wedding pavilion came down first, folded away into coarse hair-sacks by the elder women whose eyes no longer sought my mother’s empty hands. The challenge had withered where it stood; the settlement now had only the rhythm of departure to occupy its breath.

I stood fully cloaked beside the kneeling dromedary, the dark weave of my mantle pulled tight beneath my chin against the stinging desert grit. My cousin rode far at the vanguard, his back rigid, flanked by the spearmen of his father’s tent who kept their faces averted toward the southern ridge. He had been denied even the pretense of grievance.

The council had spoken, the broken bronze had settled the reckoning, and my name was no longer a matter for his hearth.

"Keep your seat balanced when the beast rises, Sayyidati," the driver said quietly, holding the nose-peg as the camel shifted beneath its wooden frame.

Before I could reach for the braided pommel, Shimon walked past the baggage line.