Gold Dust lay at their feet like a heap of burnished metal on a boulder. Her body sprawled on the rock at strange angles—arms twisted, legs tangled. None had dared remove her armor, which seemed the only support that held her together. Her eyes were shut.

The Shah fell down on his knees. How could she have died? How could Allah defeat him after such a triumph? Damn Narcissus! Damn himself for following a eunuch’s advice. The Shah cupped Gold Dust’s head in his hands.

A torrent of tears splashed down her cheeks. The king’s heart raced with fresh hope. This must be a good sign. He had never seen her cry before. He passed his fingers over her face and neck, felt her skull for fractures. He did not dare remove her armor. Why was her body so twisted? Even the worst fall could not have broken so many bones. The armor should have protected her. She must live, he repeated to himself, as if the words had healing powers.

“I lost my saddle.” Pain contorted her face. “My bones feel heavy.”

Head bowed, General Darius stood behind Gold Dust. Her saddle dangled from his hand. He had checked the favorite’s saddle and had noticed the inferior girth. The general decided to spare the king more grief and keep this knowledge a secret until the army returned.

Refusing help from his men, with great care, the king removed Gold Dust’s gorget and breastplate. She gazed at him, melancholy tears washing down her face.

“You have to see the graveyard of the enemy,” he said.

At the sight of her body, his face went white. He recoiled in horror at what was left of her once inviting curves. Her spine was a pliable bow that could not support her body. Her arms and legs lay useless at her sides.

She shut her eyes, tears spilling out. “I can’t stop crying.”

The army hakim examined her. His brow creased in thought. It was as if the favorite’s bones had turned to rubble. Had an obscure disease putrefied her bones, robbed their sturdiness, changed their consistency? He knelt and smelled her joints. The scent of roses emanated from her. He located her heart and heard a strong beat. He plucked a weed from the rocky cracks and made her blow on it. The strength of her exhalation was proof that her lungs were not punctured. He remained in silent meditation. Then he faced the Shah. “Your Honor, in my long years of practice, I’ve never encountered anything like this. Something beyond the fall has gone wrong, something inside the favorite’s body. We have to speed back and seek additional advice.”

A stretcher was constructed to hold Gold Dust. An awning overhead kept away the fierce sun. The water bearer with his donkey walked by her side and sieved water through charcoal to purify it and quench her thirst.