Saleh interrupted his thoughts by saying, "This morning I spoke with the kafila-bashi about Habib."
Ross turned toward his companion. "And?"
"Abdul Wahab said that when he dismissed Habib from the caravan last night, he gave the man a stern warning not to make more trouble for you and Jalal. Apparently Habib seemed very cowed when he left."
"I doubt that will last," Ross said dryly. "We'll be here only another day. With luck, he'll be too busy recovering from his leg injury to do much harm before we leave."
Murad had brewed a pot of pre-dinner tea, and the three men sipped in thoughtful silence. In spite of what Ross had just said to Saleh, he was not happy about the prospect of spending another day in Merv. Habib might be on crutches, but all he needed to cause trouble was his malicious tongue, and that was still in full working order.
Someone cleared his throat softly, and Ross looked up to see a small shabby Turkoman with a straggly beard. The fellow had been drifting around the campground, stopping here and there to exchange a few words, and had now reached their fire. He appeared to be a holy man, though his dress did not look like that of any of the orders of dervishes that Ross recognized.
The Turkoman bowed. "Salaam Aleikum."
"And peace be upon you," the three men murmured.
"I have heard that you are a ferengi, come all the way from England to learn your brother's fate in Bokhara," the man said, speaking directly to Ross. "My name is Abd. Never have I had the chance to speak to a man of your people. Will you tell me of the wonders of your great land?"
Ross's eyes narrowed. Apparently Habib had been talking about him, so now Ross would be put to another theological test. Well, he had always done well with those, and this particular dervish seemed innocuous enough. "I am called Khilburn. You are welcome at our fire. I will be honored to speak with you of my country, and beg that you will in turn tell me more of your own people."
As Ross introduced his companions and Murad poured more tea, the Turkoman knelt with the air of a man settling down for a lengthy discussion. "You are a Christian, my lord?" When Ross nodded, Abd said, "Tell me of your beliefs so that I may better know how our religions differ."
Thinking that that could be dangerous, Ross said, "I would prefer to discuss how our religions resemble each other."
The dervish's face lit up. "Truly thou art a man of wisdom. In your view, what are the similarities?"
"The desert is the home of three great religions—Judaism, Christianity, and Islam," Ross replied. "In these bleak and beautiful lands, there is little to stand between a man and the awareness of God's power. I think that is why the people of the book all believe so strongly in the One God."
Abd tilted his head to one side like a curious bird. "Being ignorant of the world that lies beyond the desert, I do not fully understand your meaning."
"In Britain, where I grew up, the land is moist and rich and teems with life, like an endless oasis. Everywhere there are trees and plants and animals. Perhaps that is why the ancient British people believed in many gods—surrounded by such overwhelming evidence of God's works, they saw a godling in every brook and every tree rather than the master hand behind it all," Ross said, warming to his theory. "It took the fierce anvil of the desert to forge a clear understanding of the One God."
"Ahh, what a new and intriguing thought you have given me," the dervish said, briefly closing his eyes with delight. "In the simplicity of the desert, one can truly be alone with God, as my nomad ancestors discovered. And the understanding born of that simplicity has been carried across the world."
"So it has, and that is what your faith and mine have in common. All the people of the book still carry the pure vision of the desert god in their hearts," Ross said. "Like most Englishmen, I feel a greater kinship with the sons of the Prophet than with Hindus, who have many gods, or Buddhists, whose God seems abstract and remote."
"That is good," Abd said, nodding thoughtfully. "Do you think the Hindus and Buddhists worship false gods?"
Ross shook his head. "I would not say that, for I do not know enough of their beliefs to judge them wise. But I have known Hindus and Buddhists who were truly good men. Perhaps in their different ways they also worship the One God. However, I understand immediate the God of the Prophet with no need of interpretation, for he is also the god of my fathers."
He must have passed the test, for after nodding several times, Abd began an enthusiastic dissertation on the nature of fire and water, and whether God could have made them, since they were destructive and God was good.