This Shall Be a House of Peace by Phil Halton

Author:Phil Halton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn
Published: 2019-01-12T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

The landscape around the village had been the same for centuries. No one living there ever expected it to change, and so when dawn broke that day, the news passed from house to house in minutes.

Across the shallow river stood a black tent, its sides stretched low to the ground. Beside it lay two camels who jockeyed for position in what little shade it cast. At least a hundred sheep with dirty grey wool lay in a circle around the tent, some grazing on what grasses could be found, others wandering a short distance away to drink from the river.

Faizal sent a young man running up the hill to the madrassa with the news. He burst into the classroom, chest heaving as he fought for breath, and stumbled over the pile of sandals at the door. When he saw the Mullah he nearly shouted the news at him, only barely restraining himself. The classroom was filled with boys sitting in rows as the Mullah led them through a recitation of the Quran. The young man squatted by the doorway, fidgeting with the tails of his shirt, waiting. As the recitation finished, he pushed through the boys to reach the Mullah.

“Ma’alim, you must come. There are Kochi on the other side of the river!” he said.

The Mullah bid the boys practise writing on their slates until he returned, and followed the young man down to the highway. By the time the Mullah had reached the bottom of the hill, all the men of the village were lined up along the river. They squatted on their haunches in small groups, talking quietly and watching the Kochi. The Mullah walked past them to stand on the edge of the newly dug irrigation ditch, stepping up onto a fresh pile of earth from where he could see the entire breadth of the wide pasture on the far side of the river. In addition to the one tent he had been told about, there was now a second tent pitched farther back from the river, with the sheep of both families grazing together between them. No person could be seen among the animals, although the Mullah was certain that the Kochi were watching them closely as well.

The Mullah made an elaborate show of unwinding his patu from around his shoulders and folding it at his feet. His thin black shalwar kamiz hid no weapons. He pulled his loose pants high up about his waist and walked slowly down to the river, wading across the water in the direction of the closest tent. The water was cool, fed by the snow melting far away on the mountains.

As he reached the other side, the few sheep near him scattered, creating a ripple effect as their flight encouraged others to flee, as well. Soon, the sheep were spread out in a wide crescent around where the Mullah stood. He chose not to approach either of the tents too closely. Instead, he crouched by the riverbank where he could easily be seen, and waited.

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