An Abduction in Algiers: Book Six in the Muhammad Amalfi Mystery Series by Lewis AJ

Author:Lewis, AJ [Lewis, AJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Desert Debris Press
Published: 2024-06-19T00:00:00+00:00

As the grey light of day comes on, I am returned to my pole and chain. The rain continues to fall, and the orb of the sun is nowhere in sight because the clouds overhead obscure the sight of even the nearest mountain on the horizon. I calculate that, owing to the mountainous terrain surrounding the little town, the sun should be visible for little more than three quarters of the day even in good weather. The wooden fence on the pen nearby is green with mold on at least the two sides that are visible to me. All around me, every surface I see is slick with rain. The mud beneath my feet, like that in the alleys of the souk, is puddled and becoming deeper. My clothing is soaked. If anything I wear is dry, it may be the inner folds of my turban. Even so, my head feels as wet as the rest of me.

I thank Allah that the man who tethers my feet to the pole removes the leather straps from around my wrists.

Despite the discomfort, however, I am bolstered by my observation of the doors to the mosque. I, like the Woman, have no idea how we might escape and then hide ourselves behind those doors. But I am now confident that we may remain there undetected for as long as we need. Even the shed to the side of the mosque where extra mats are kept for use on Fridays might provide the shelter we require. But if we are to occupy either of those two spaces, we must be sure not to do so on a Friday when the mosque overflows with the faithful.

With daylight seeping into the souk, men in the alleyways begin unfurling the canvas covers to their stalls. Not long afterwards, I catch the scent of burning coals, and kebabs, and the flaky mesemmen pastry in oil. I realize then that my hunger requires controlling. I have learned, the moment the thought of food occurs to me, to suppress the urge to eat by turning to the Koran and my daily recitation of a one-thirtieth portion. This is how I am able to retain the entire Book in my memory, and this is the means of controlling my desires, whatever they may be. As I do so, I view as if from afar the souk coming to life. Like the byways of Algiers itself, none of the alleys in the souk is wide enough to accommodate carts. Instead, sturdy mules and sure-footed donkeys with saddle bags laden with vegetables and greens are led through the muddy maze and unloaded by barefoot farmers. Men pass by and return, and most are too busy to notice me. Those who do acknowledge my presence, turn away when they see me, or otherwise avert their eyes. To these mountain men, I am somehow ill-omened, manhoos, or otherwise capable of visiting calamity upon them by my casting the evil eye their way.

Seemingly from every direction, blue smoke from nearby furnaces is rising, and I begin to hear the pounding of hammers.

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