Jelaudin blinked. Was the old man turning him down?

‘I don’t understand,’ he said.

Abbud spread his hands.

‘My business is in taking a cut on fine items of gold. Khuday is a poor place and no one here is likely to give me more than I could give you. I would have to send the jewel with a caravan to Bukhara or Samarkand, or perhaps Ashgabad or Mashhad in the south.’ He rolled the gem with a finger as if it was just a bauble. ‘Perhaps Kabul would have a buyer, but the cost of taking it so far would equal the profit I could make. As I say, I am sorry, but I cannot buy it.’

Jelaudin was at a loss. In his entire life, he had never bargained for anything. He was not a fool and he recognised the man was probably toying with him, but he had no idea what to offer. In a sudden flush of anger, he thought of snatching it up and leaving. Only the thought of his father’s physician arriving at sunset held him in his seat. Abbud watched him closely, hiding his own delight at the young man’s transparent emotions. He could not resist twisting the knife and he pushed the jewel across the table as if ending the meeting.

‘May I have tea brought?’ Abbud suggested. ‘I do not like to turn a man away without even refreshment.’

‘I must sell this,’ Jelaudin said. ‘Can you not recommend someone else who will take it tonight and give me a good price?’

‘I will send for tea,’ Abbud replied as if the question had not been asked. He ignored the warning voices that had troubled him at the beginning. I must sell this? Let Allah bring him a queue of fools like this one and he would retire to a palace blessed with cool breezes.

As his servant boy brought tea in a silver pot, Abbud took note of the way the customer checked the sun outside. His naivety was intoxicating.

‘You are in need, my friend,’ Abbud said. ‘I would not like it said that I took advantage of that need, do you understand? My reputation is everything.’

‘I understand, of course,’ Jelaudin replied. The tea was very good and he sipped the hot drink in confusion, wondering what to do. The old jeweller leaned forward and dared to pat him on the arm as if they were friends.

‘My brother-in-law told me your father is ill. Should I turn away a good son? Never in this life. I will make you an offer for the gem, enough to pay the physician at least. If I keep the ruby, perhaps I will find a buyer in years to come, no? My business is not all about quick profit. There are times when I must think of my soul.’ Abbud sighed audibly. He thought he might have overdone it with the last sentiment, but the young man brightened and nodded at him.

‘You are very kind, sir,’ Jelaudin said, his relief painfully obvious.

‘Will we not all be judged?’ Abbud said piously. ‘My stall has not been profitable of late, with all this talk of war.’ He paused then, observing a tightening in the young man’s face.

‘Have you lost someone, my friend? Allah gives and he takes away. All we can do is endure this life.’

‘No, it is nothing,’ Jelaudin said. ‘I have heard of great battles in the east.’

‘Indeed. These are hard times.’ The prickle of warning was back in force and once more Abbud considered sending the man away. The ruby gleamed on the table and his eyes were drawn to it again.

‘For you, my friend, I will offer you four gold coins. It is not what the gem is worth, nor half of it, but it will cover your debt to the physician. I cannot offer more.’

He settled back for the negotiation, but to his amazement, Jelaudin stood up.

‘Very well. You are a good man,’ he said.

Abbud covered his startled confusion by rising as well and taking the outstretched hand. Could it be possible? The stone was worth forty times what he had offered!

Abbud hid his delight as best he could as he passed four small coins over. The sword scabbard shone brightly in the gloom and he had to drag his eyes away from it. He owed the fool something.

‘My friend, I will give you a piece of cloth to wrap that blade you carry. There are thieves in the souk, though it grieves me to admit it. They may have already marked your arrival here. If you have friends, let me send for them to walk with you back to your place of lodging.’

Jelaudin nodded uncertainly.

‘That is kind, sir. More than I could have hoped in such a place.’

Abbud chuckled.

‘I have sons myself. I will pray for your father’s quick recovery.’

It took almost until sunset for Abbud’s servant boy to fetch three men from his brother-in-law’s house. They were as haughty and strange as the one with the gem and Abbud wondered if he should set a watch on their house. If they had other gems to sell, he did not want them going to one of his competitors. They would pick such innocents clean to the bone. Yes, it would be good to have forewarning if there was going to be trouble. Something about the four young men told him that trouble was very close indeed.

Jelaudin was elated as he strode back through the crowds with his brothers. It was almost sunset and the doctor would be on his way. He had traded and come away with gold in his pouch. It was a giddy feeling and he did not see his brothers’ nervous expressions at first. They walked quickly beside him and the sight of their stern faces was enough to warn off a pair of skinny young men who loitered near Abbud’s stall, staring rudely. As they closed on the tiny house where they had taken rooms, Jelaudin noticed the tension in his brothers at last.

‘What is it?’ he muttered.

They exchanged glances.

‘The Mongols, brother. We saw them in the markets. They are here.’

The physician pressed his long fingers into the shah’s belly, manipulating the organs beneath. Jelaudin watched in distaste as his father’s skin wrinkled and sagged as if it was no longer attached to the flesh. He could not recall seeing his father so exposed and vulnerable at any time in his life. The doctor seemed coolly professional, but Jelaudin was used to dealing with physicians of the court. Each of those had established a reputation before the shah accepted them. Jelaudin sighed silently. For all he knew, this man was a charlatan.

The doctor massaged his patient’s flesh, peering closely and listening to the tortured breath. Jelaudin’s father was awake, though his eyes were yellow around the iris and his face was pale. Jelaudin could only watch as the man pulled his father’s lower eyelid down and tutted to himself.

The doctor murmured quick orders and his servant boy began to boil water and crumble herbs into it. It was a relief for Jelaudin to pass his father into the care of another and, for the first time in months, he did not feel completely helpless.

At last the inspection ended and the doctor rose.

‘His liver is weak,’ he said to Jelaudin. ‘I can give you something for that, but his lungs are the most urgent problem.’

Jelaudin did not point out that anyone could have made such a diagnosis. He was paying gold for this man’s attentions and he hung on every word. The physician took him by the arm to the brazier, where dark leaves leapt and bubbled in their liquor.

‘Have your companions sit him up and drape a cloth over his head. These herbs give off a powerful scent that will help him to breathe.’

Jelaudin nodded to his brothers and they helped their father up. The wheezing became instantly worse.

‘How quickly will it work?’ Jelaudin asked.

The doctor blinked.

‘Not quickly at all, young man. Your father is very ill indeed. He must sit over the fumes until the liquid has gone cold, at dawn, noon and evening. Give him beef broth for strength and make sure he drinks as much water as he can hold. In a week, I will come back to you and judge how far he has improved.’

Jelaudin winced at the thought of spending a week in the cramped rooms. Would the Mongols have passed on by then? Surely they would. He blessed his decision to hide in the town. Unless the Mongols destroyed it out of sheer spite, they were as safe in Khuday as anywhere.