Remo pointed to the remnants of bis army, ©oweriag in the sand under guard.
"Them," he said.
"Who are these Israeli sympathizers?" Fareem asked.
"You," Remo said. "Ignore it, sheik. The broad's wacky."
Fareem slapped Melody Wakefield in the back of the head and sent her sprawling. "Be quiet, woman. No more of your lies," he growled.
"Zionist child-butcher," she called out. /
Remo put his foot on her mouth.
"Shut up, kid. You ain't in Boston now."
Remo was allowed to sit next to Chiun and the sheik. In front of them stood General Bull, Reva Bleem, Melody Wakefield, and Abdul.
"What are we to do with these creatures?" Fareem asked Chiun.
"I am sure Your Excellency will be just," Chiun
said.
The sheik pointed to Bull.
"You. In the cowboy suit. Get up here."
Bull stepped forward cautiously.
"You are in charge of that army?"
"Not me," Bull said. He pointed to Remo. "He was. I didn't want to fight. I never wanted to fight. I'm a salesman who believes in peace. Peace forever. Sheik, I want to talk to you sometime about those swords and spears. I can personally provide you with some modern equipment. The best that money can buy."
"We have no money," the sheik said.
"That's ridiculous," Bull said. "This is Hamidi Arabia. Everybody has money."
"We have none," Fareem said.
"As an American citizen, I demand my rights. I de-
mand to be released immediately. Washington will hear of..."
"Silence," the sheik roared. He mulled something over for a moment, then said, "I order you to leave this area and take those poor excuses of soldiers with you. March them back to Nehmad and never return."
"I don't plan to," Bull said. "But if you ever get any money and want to talk about..."
"Be gone," the sheik ordered. As Bull left the tent, Fareem called one of his guards forward and whispered into his ear. Then he leaned over to Chiun and spoke softly to him. Chiun smiled.
"What'd he say?" Remo asked.
"He said your general is a man with a great deal of foolish pride. He will remove some of that pride."
Remo saw Fareem's guard leave the tent, but relaxed when he heard no screams from outside.
"What happened to Ganulle, anyway?" Remo asked Chiun.
"He will be set free."
"He tried to kill the sheik," Remo said.
"He will be set free," Chiun said. "He is on his way now, under guard, to the place where he will be set free. A hundred miles out into the barren dessert. The sheik has told him that he wanted to be a ruler and now he can. He can rule empty sand, if he wishes, and pray for rain."
The sheik crooked his finger, and Melody Wakefield was pushed forward. Her typewriter still hung around her neck.
"What is to be done with this countrywoman of yours?" the sheik asked Remo.
Remo shrugged. "You can't cut off her hands. Somebody already did that. And she tried to seduce my soldiers. I'm supposed to decide whether she gets stoned or sent into slavery."
The sheik looked at the woman. "She prostitutes her body as she does the truth. I think she should ..."
He was interrupted by a sound from the tent opening. Suddenly Zantos pushed her way past the guards
191
and ran up to the sheik's throne. She threw herself on the ground at his feet.
"Oh, Noble One, I plead for my husband's life," she cried.
Remo leaned over to Chiun. "She doesn't even like the guy," he said.
"No, but she is his wife, and it is her obligation to try to keep him alive. Some people live up to their obligations. Other people ignore them. Mostly whites. Whites don't like obligations."
"Knock it off," Remo growled in Korean.
"Rise, my daughter," said the sheik. "Your husband . . . my son, is not worth your pleas. He is not worth one tear from your eye."
"He is my husband, Excellency."
The sheik nodded, then roared, "Abdul, get up here."
Hesitantly, the fat man shuffled forward to stand before his father, head bowed.
"You are no son of mine," Fareem said. "You have no heart, no body, no talent, no courage, no strength."
"I am..." Abdul stammered.