The Brotherhood of book Hunters (2014)
“These mosquito bites were unbearable! To his right, Monsignor Francesco, the Archdeacon of Nazareth, was nervously waving a black lace fan. To his left, the qadi was filing his nails with a shell-bladed stylet. Sitting cross-legged at the foot of the dais, counselors and marabouts were making an effort to assume a solemn and reflective air beneath their tangled turbans.
The steward ushered the slaves out as soon as Suleyman’s messenger appeared, out of breath after his long ride. The young ...soldier, eager to please the distinguished gathering, launched into a hurried account of what had happened. An interpreter whispered in the ear of the archdeacon, who immediately put down his fan. Without deigning to look up or interrupt the cleaning of his nails, the qadi hissed at the messenger to come to the point. The reprimanded soldier’s cheeks turned red, making him look like a male whore, an effect the emir found not unpleasing.
It was clear that the anxieties expressed by the qadi had been confirmed.MoreLess
The steward ushered the slaves out as soon as Suleyman’s messenger appeared, out of breath after his long ride. The young ...soldier, eager to please the distinguished gathering, launched into a hurried account of what had happened. An interpreter whispered in the ear of the archdeacon, who immediately put down his fan. Without deigning to look up or interrupt the cleaning of his nails, the qadi hissed at the messenger to come to the point. The reprimanded soldier’s cheeks turned red, making him look like a male whore, an effect the emir found not unpleasing.
It was clear that the anxieties expressed by the qadi had been confirmed.MoreLess
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