“It is a very sad story, Sitt Hakim. My name is Omar Hassan el-Tayeb, if it pleases you. I was seven years old and was tending to our flock of sheep when a ewe slipped down the side of a wadi and I went after her. I encountered a band of Turks, who beat me and took me captive. When we reached Cairo, they sold me to a British family to work as a houseboy. The master was a kind man and allowed me to accompany his children to their classroom to be tutored. I learned many things, but all I dreamt about was reuniting with my tribe and family. After eight years, I slipped out and searched the desert until I found them.”

I blinked until I could trust myself to maintain my composure. “A very sad story, I agree. I am appalled that a British family would have anything to do with slavery. You must tell me their name.”

“I cannot do that. They were good to me. I met other boys in my situation who slept on blankets in the basement, worked sixteen hours a day, and lived on scraps from the kitchen.”

“Then I should have the opportunity to praise them for their generosity.”

He gave me a wry smile. “I think not, Sitt Hakim. You said that you are searching for a German man?” When I nodded, he continued. “He brought himself here perhaps an hour ago, barely managing to stay atop the camel. He was singing loudly in a language I do not know. It could have been German—or gibberish. Once he regained his balance on the sand, he threw his arms around Sheikh Nasir el-Din and kissed him on the lips.” Omar shuddered at the memory. “He then lunged at the nearest woman, who is one of the sheikh’s granddaughters. His throat would have been slit had he not been burning with fever. My own mother took him to our tent and has been bathing his face with water, but he is still delirious. We are not sure what to do with him.”

“Please tell Sheikh Nasir el-Din that Professor Emerson and I are gratified by his benevolence. This German man is an archaeologist and a friend. His recent behavior is contemptible, but we believe that he is ill. If the sheikh has no objections”—I smiled warmly at the old man, who was scowling at us—“I will take Herr Morgenstern back to Amarna so that he can receive medical attention.”

Omar shrugged. “I will tell him what you have told me, but do not be surprised if he wishes to think about this. His reputation has been blackened by this German man’s disrespect.”