A middle-aged dark-skinned man opened the door, his close-cropped black hair contrasted against his long beard. A curved dagger like the one Clovis had given me was secured in the waistband of his leather blacksmiths apron. His long beard parted into a white smile as he embraced Clovis and exchanged greetings. The Arab then pulled Clovis inside by the hand, who motioned for me to follow.

The livery stable inside could have been an exact copy of the one I'd been in a hundred times in Bulgaria as Vasili. Clovis pulled back on the man's hand and positioned him in front of me where he introduced me in Arabic.

"This is Nusel," Clovis said to me. "His younger brother works for me when I'm gone."

He shook my hand and spoke what I assumed to be a greeting, his head checked halfway through a bow as he noticed my fresh tattoo. Clovis placed his hand on Nusel's shoulder and walked over to a stall holding a thin, weary-looking brown horse. The horse stirred at his approach and brushed its muzzle against Clovis' head, who spoke to the animal in a soft voice as he rubbed its neck.

"Is this horse yours?" I asked.

"Yes. Nusel doesn't know what to do with him. Poor guy, he will not eat if I am not around." He turned and spoke to the Arab stableman, who nodded every few seconds.

"It is too late in the morning to reach my home before midday. I suggested to Nusel that we relax with coffee until the sun's zenith has passed. The horse should eat as long as we relax in here.

"We should arrive at my home just before dark, in time for dinner. Are you hungry now?"

"Yes very," I said.

Clovis put his hands together and gave a slight bow as he spoke to Nusel. The stableman nodded and bowed deeply, then withdrew out the open side door. Nusel returned minutes later with three tall glass cups of black coffee along with bread and a large sugar covered pastry. I mimicked Clovis' bowing gestures as Nusel set the tray down between the stools on the dirt floor. Undaunted by the thick stench of manure hanging in the stagnant air, I broke off a section of the pastry and began to eat.

Clovis spoke at length with Nusel, periodically translating for my benefit. The temperature rose relentlessly inside the barn as the day wore on. Of the three of us in the circle, I was the only one sweating.

"How are you holding up?" Clovis asked, after the second cup of coffee.

"I'll be fine."