“By God! Away with you, rogues!” André heard Aynur call out.
Screams and the clatter of galloping horses drowned out everything else. André grabbed a shovel. The sack of saffron lay in front of the barn door where Aynur had dropped it. Before he knew it, André was pushed aside by one of the onrushing riders. He stumbled and fell and, as he scrambled to his feet, he saw the rider lean down and snatch the sack.
“Villain!” André yelled. Then he saw the other riders rushing through the half-open gate. He guessed there were ten, maybe twelve. He recognized the leader immediately by his port-wine stain.
He ran toward him angrily, holding the shovel. “Damn it! What do you want now? Can’t you leave us in peace?”
There was pandemonium in the courtyard. The Berbers guided their horses ably through the narrow spaces and ruthlessly rode over anyone who did not jump out of the way in time. The men bellowed, the women screeched, children bawled, cries of fear mingled with cries of pain, and panic-stricken people ran into each other.
“Christian! Watch out!” André watched in horror as his son stumbled and fell. But Frédéric pulled him out of the way of the horses’ hooves.
“To the tower! Quickly!” André bellowed against the din and gesticulated with his shovel. Frédéric seized his younger brother by the arm, raced with him to the donjon, and pushed him up the ladder ahead of himself.
André frantically looked around. Where were his other children, where was Aynur? He tried in vain to find the rest of his family amid the people, horses, tents, gunshots, and screams. Then he saw Emily and Malika. They were standing as though paralyzed by the entrance to the kitchen.
“Come on!” André screamed frenetically.
But they were much too far to hear him.
“Imma! Imma!” André Jr. had spotted his mother in the chaos and was trying to squeeze past his sisters. Fortunately, Emily and Malika grabbed the little boy’s shirt just in time, dragged him into the house, and slammed the door shut.
André had also spotted Aynur. Tamra had been pushed from her armchair and was lying helplessly on the ground. The two riders, coming from behind at full tilt, did not notice Aynur trying to help the old woman.
“Over there! That’s the little one! She’s the one I want for myself!” yelled the first of the two men. “And afterward—” He made a jagged motion in front of his throat. “Then we’ll collect our reward!” He laughed as he jabbed his heels into his horse’s flanks.
“Wait!” the second one replied. “That’s the wrong one! We’re supposed to kill the merchant woman’s brat!”
“Who cares? Everyone on this accursed estate is a traitor!” His companion aimed his gun.
André let loose an earsplitting scream and threw himself forward with desperate courage. His concern for Aynur lent him tremendous speed, and he succeeded in cutting off the first of the two riders.
At that moment, a gun rang out next to him. Aynur screamed and slumped down on Tamra’s body.
“No!” André bellowed. He swung his shovel high in the air and hit the rider who had fired the shot. There was a crunching sound. The attacker dropped his gun, his neck snapped to the side. As the man plunged off his horse, André noticed his expression of surprise, frozen in death.
A loud howl erupted next to him. “You will pay for that, infidel!”
André spun around and dodged the hooves of a rearing horse. The hideous face of the rider was distorted with bloodlust, but the jagged port-wine stain across his face was still clear.
André felt a hatred the likes of which he had never before experienced in his life. He was going to kill that man if it was the last thing he did! He swung the shovel again, but the younger man was quicker and pushed his horse against him. André stumbled and lost his shovel. He pulled out his knife, but before he knew it, a rifle butt came crashing down. Tremendous pain flashed through his skull. He covered his head with his hands and swayed. Above him, he could see the leader’s face, his triumphant grimace. There was a growing buzzing in his ears and, above him, a shimmering, dancing cloud rose over the walls of Qasr el Bahia and darkened the sky.
Locusts, that’s all we need, he thought before falling into a fathomless darkness.
Tears ran down Frédéric’s face. “The teeth of the wind did destroy part of our harvest, but they also saved us. If God had not sent them at that moment, we would all be dead.” He reached for his goblet and gulped some water. Sibylla refilled it with trembling hands.
Finally, John cleared his throat and asked, “What do you mean by the ‘teeth of the wind’?”
“Locusts,” explained Frédéric. His eyes lost focus as he relived the events of the terrible day. “The largest swarm I have ever seen. They came across the mountains like a storm cloud and blocked out the sun. More of them fell from the sky than there are grains of sand in the desert. And the noise! Crows and ravens diving at the insects and all the people screaming. Christian and I were safe in the donjon, but in the courtyard, people were running for their lives. But when the locusts came, the attackers’ horses took fright and they had to flee. It was a miracle! As soon as the attackers were gone, I climbed out of the tower and barricaded the gate. And then I saw my parents—” Frédéric’s voice broke. “I’m not even sure they’re still alive. My father was unconscious when I left. He had a terrible head wound and my mother had been shot. Tamra is dead for certain, killed by a bullet. I must go back! Who knows how my brothers and sisters are, all alone like that.” Frédéric pressed himself up from the divan although he was unsteady on his feet from exhaustion.
Sibylla rose. “That’s not a good idea, Frédéric. You were very brave today, a hero. But now you must rest. Nadira has prepared a room for you.”
He was about to protest when she placed her hand on his shoulder. “If I could, I would go immediately myself. But we’ll be of no use to anyone if we fall off our horses in the dark. I am certain that Emily and Malika have bolted the gate well after your departure. For tonight, the people inside the walls of the estate are safe. And tomorrow morning we shall ride to Qasr el Bahia together.”
“I’m going to pack my things,” Sibylla announced after Frédéric had reluctantly withdrawn to the room that had been made ready for him. “We should also alert Thomas, as there are wounded on the estate. We may be gone for quite a while, so I’m afraid you will have to handle all the business for me in the meantime, John.”
“Of course. Think nothing of it,” he assured her. “But under no circumstances can you ride to Qasr el Bahia alone. I’m convinced that those villains are lurking near the estate. I’ll ask the qaid to provide an escort.” He hastened to his study and returned a short while later with a sealed envelope. By then, Sibylla had fetched Hamid.