“They said one week.” Khouri stood just inside Rastaban’s tent, watching the general pace circles. “It’s been ten days. The men are getting restless. Again.”
“I know,” Rastaban said. “Don’t tell me things I know. Tell me something I don’t know.”
Rhajj poked his head into the tent. “Sir, it’s a messenger from the People.”
Rastaban turned. “What?”
“The women. They sent a messenger. From the valley. She has been walking for days to speak to you.” Rhajj glanced over his shoulder, then asked, “Shall I send her in?”
Rastaban nodded. “Of course.” The women back home needed food - soon.
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