The police captain strode proudly into the room, leading on a chain a tall, handsome man of middle years. The prisoner’s clothes were worn and frayed, but showed faded evidence of having once been respectable. His face was cut and bruised as though from a beating, but his bearing was nonetheless erect and proud.
The wali turned to his captain. “What is the meaning of this interruption?” he asked, and his tone made it clear he expected a very good explanation or the captain was not long for his position.
“O noble wali,” the captain said, kneeling on one knee, “I have brought before you the thief we have sought all this day.”
Shammara sat up a little straighter at this. Before she restored her face to its relaxed mask, Cari seemed to see a predatory flash in her eyes.
“Indeed?” The wali
