The early morning sun baked brick and man alike as I entered theDamascus bazaar. The smell of unwashed flesh mingled with the scents of a hundred spices from a dozen countries along with the ever present odor of the butcher shops and camel pens. I was looking for my steward, Selim, on a household matter and was feeling somewhat put upon. We rarely frequented the great square of the bazaar, home and crossroads way station to the caravanserais of both the Islamic and the infidel from the West, not to speak of the shrewd little idolaters of the East with their precious silk. My family was a primary sponsor and beneficiary of the Damascus trade dealing in all products but slaves, leaving that dirty business to the Yemeni and Bedouin, little more than idol worshipers themselves no matter how much they pressed their foreheads toward Mecca.

But now I had to find Selim to arrange a great feast to be given by my father and myself to honor Wahid-Aq-Saryn, the newly appointed Grand Vizier. Merchant Princes we might be but the civil and military authority had always to be respected and placated.

At the center of the great square, one by one and some half miles in size and traversed by rows and rows of stalls and exhibits like the streets ofCordoba lies the shop of Ashiq the Bookseller. I made toward his shop knowing that Selim liked to idle away the times with Ashiq, exchanging gossip of their homeland, Egypt to the west. Before I had gone very deeply into the throng however I was nearly bowled over by the very one I sought, my steward, Selim.

"Master, Oh Master," he wailed, clutching and pulling on my robe and sobbing over my sandals.

"Master, help me!"

Not wishing to excite attention and since Selim is a smallish man, I pulled him up by the scuff of his neck into the space between two betel nut vendors.

"Stop your blubbering," I told him and shook his wiry little frame to and fro for good measure as I am of more than average size and height. "What is the matter with you?"

"Master, I pray thee," he whispered. "I am in great peril! Aid me please! I must flee! I must flee!"

Now this set me back no little as Selim had for nigh 10 years seemed a hardy and efficient yet innocuous sort, little given to any pursuit save the efficient running of my father's household. How had he gained the enmity of someone? Who would dare to threaten the steward of the House of Khaled and even more curious, who and what could instill such abject fear into our unhappy steward?

Selim jerked and flinched in front of me looking this way and that, fearfully, as if at any moment his unknown enemy might spring upon him and spirit him from my very arms.

"Hold still," I ordered through clenched teeth. "You are of the House of Khaled and I command you to act your station. Now who has frightened you so and why are you so late in returning to our palace?"

Selim swallowed mightily and clutching and twisting the bedraggled tail of his turban hanging now twisted upon his left shoulder he said, "I pray thee, ask me no questions Master. But if I have ever pleased thee and thy father, may he be blessed of Allah the Munificent, if I have accorded thee pleasure by my conduct and saved thee money by my attention to your business, if I have......."

"Yes, yes - go on with it Selim. You are a good and faithful steward.Get on with what is behind all of this unseemly behavior before I regret my words."

"If I have deserved any consideration Master," he continued in as miserable and wretched a voice as I've ever heard, "then, please, I beg thee, lend me thy horse."

"My horse?" I exclaimed causing heads of passers by to turn our way."What do you wish with my horse?"

"Your Azafel Master. The swiftest mare in all of Islam, yes,master, lend to me your Azafel that I might flee to Samara by nightfall."

"Samara," I thought, "nigh 40 leagues (120 miles) to the south and a fair distance even for my swift Azafel." Looking into Selim's eyes I saw such a look of terror attended by a beseechment which gave me pause. Selim actually believed that whatever his need, he could be saved by the loan of my horse.  His childlike confidence no less than his plight moved me somewhat.

"You must tell me Selim," I said. "How can I safeguard my father's interests if I do not know who or what has frightened you so? Tell me now or I shall not even consider your request."

Once again, furtively looking this way and that and without taking his wrenching hands from his loose turban, Selim said, "It is thus Master. I came early to bazaar knowing that the best pomegranates beloved of your father, may Allah the Munificent bless him, the best pomegranate packed in snow from Alamut and carried here overnight by fast camel, may be purchase dearly. Then I thought to visit my old friend from Cairo, Ashiq the Bookseller.

"Yes, yes," I murmured. "It is as I thought."

"So Master," Selim continued slightly louder, "when I approached Ashiq'sbookstall, I saw a tall figure in the black robes of the Tuareg or perhaps the ShainishTribe or other desert dwellers standing at Ashiq's stall. As I approached, he turned and looked at me full in the face. Master it was Death who looked at me."

Here Selim seemed to turn to stone, his eyes slightly distended as he remembered the aspect of the stranger. "His face, Master, his face, may Allah preserve me he made such a horrible face toward me!

Selim's voice began to rise. "He made such a look toward me, Master. I felt as if the inside of my soul was boiling, such evil and malice toward me that I confess I cried aloud and fled into the crowd."

Selim seemed to shrink in upon himself and looking up at me piteously said, "Oh please, Master, I know whereof I speak. Lend me your swift mare,Azafel, that I may flee to Samara for there I know I should be safe among kinsmen tonight. Please my Master!"

Whereupon I took Selim to the stables and with my own hand lent him Azafel, swiftest of mares, for his journey of 40 leagues and more to the south to Samara.

A little later I betook myself to Ashiq's bookstall, both curious and furious over what had occurred between Selim and the stranger he called Death.After only a short time I noticed the crowd seemed to part as by the passing of a tide of water and walking toward me was he who could only be Selim's nemesis, the man in black - the personage of Death.

He approached me, tall and saturnine of visage, robed as Selim had said all in black and belted like the Jebusites of the far Southwest desert. Placing hand to heart he greeted me in a civil manner.

"Well met,Oh Prince, I am honored to see thee, and how is your revered father?"

At this reference to my father, I flinched for indeed it was Death who spoke to me so casually.

"May your famous house be ever exalted by man and may your pursuits prosper, my Prince."

Putting a good face on I responded, "I thank you Old One for your courtesy but must bring a certain complaint to you." Even I was amazed at my boldness to speak so to one holding the power of life and death in his timeworn hands.

"And what is that?", said Death, still speaking kindly with hand to heart.

"It concerns my servant, Selim, and your treatment of him this morning sir."

"Oh."

"Indeed," I continued, "as you will know you met him this morning and bestowed upon him such a face, a look which so frightened the poor fellow that he is probably lost to our household for no little while."

Death just looked at me.

"Yes, lost," I said further, " because he was so upset he had to borrow my prize horse to flee you in panic, in great terror to safety with his family and friends in Samara."

At which time Death bowed his head and placing his hand to his chin looked closely at my face and his eyes were clear through obsidian and spoke truth.

"Prince of Khaled, you whose father I revere and must visit soon....and you for whom I have nothing but the utmost respect, whether in battle, at court or at the racing fields with your precious, Azafel, is it?"

I nodded.

"Then sirrah, you must believe me when I say that I had no intention of alarming your dear steward, Selim, and certainly meant him no harm."

"Then why did you make such a face toward him?", I asked.

"Why noble one, it was simply a look of surprise, of shock even to see him here, today Friday. I did not expect him here for though a great distance away, tonight I have an appointment with him...in Samara."

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