He felt like a hypocrite playing them by Company protocol. “You don’t have to teach ’em to hate. They already know that. You just have to aim it in the right direction. Xenophobia—it works every time,” Koenig used to say. And now the darkness was coming again, the Scorpion thought. He could sense its relentless approach, like the dark wall of clouds which heralded the monsoon back in Vietnam. Abdul Sa’ad would bring the darkness with no one to stop him, except for his own desperate plan predicated on two pretty shaky legs: the single-shot theory and Bandar’s vanity in his marksmanship. And if the eunuch had lied about how they planned to assassinate King Salim, the darkness would swallow them all.

Because Arabia was the flashpoint between America and Russia, he thought. Oil was to the great powers what water was to the Bedu. If Abdul Sa’ad succeeded, there might be another world war. The last. “Assuming you could do it and you knew what was going to happen, would you have assassinated Hitler in 1939?” was the question his philosophy class had debated in college. Back then, he had argued that survival outweighed ethics. The majority of the class had disagreed, he remembered.

“So now we are to prepare for battle on the mere word of a foreigner,” Muhammed drawled insultingly.

At this Youssef started up, his khanjar already half out of its sheath at this insult to his brother.

“You dare!” Youssef hissed, his eyes like coals in the light from the fire.

The Scorpion put a hand on Youssef’s shoulder to restrain him. After a tense second, Youssef squatted back down, his hand still on his khanjar.

“It is said, ‘Beware of the smile of the infidel,’” snarled Muhammed. He glared defiantly across the glowing embers at the Scorpion.

“It is also said, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend,’” the Scorpion replied.

“That is so,” Sheikh Zaid said.

Muhammed started to reply, but changed his mind as Faisal, trying to ease the tension, clapped his hands twice sharply to call for more coffee. As another thimble cup was again passed around, Faisal moved around the fire to sit next to the Scorpion. Faisal squatted and put his hand on the Scorpion’s shoulder, making sure that all saw him do so. A faint wind stirred whispers of sand on the dunes.

“Why have you come back to us now, truly?” Faisal asked.

To find something I lost, the Scorpion thought. He looked into Faisal’s eyes, opalescent in the flickering light, and groped for the words.