Persian dawns, Egyptian nights

THE LOST CONSTITUENT 21
guards and pages, saints and sinners, dwarfs and
diviners who enlivened the lighter hours of Muham-
rnud s successor, withdrew. Then Berkhu heard
himself addressed.
‘ Rise, General.’
So they faced each other. The Caliph was blunt.
‘ I had no need of this victory or campaign. The
populace forced it on me. Nor have I any need of
you. So you do not return to your army.’
Berkhu laughed. It was characteristic of him,
this unseemly levity, says Nerses. ‘ Not even my
head ? ’
Now those two had once been friends—long
before, in the days when a gallop across the sands
and the strife of spears was like wine in the mouths
of their youth. And they peered at each other in
that dusk and scented room, and the Caliph sighed.
‘ O Malik, we’ve come far, you and I, since those
morning rides to Baqubah. What have they given
you, all those years that have passed since then ? ’
/ Fools to fight and much weariness to endure,’
said the heretic General, and also was blunt. ‘ But
not so much as they have given you.’
The dried-up little man who ruled Islam nodded.
‘ That is true. Now the weary should rest. For
me there is none, but for you ’
And again he considered him, and Berkhu
thought amusedly of the dripping heads waiting
outside on his saddle-bow. But that memory of
the Baqubah rides had disturbed the Caliph’s
intention.