An Evil Eye

28

After the funeral the young man sold his sheep and the standing corn.

He thought long and hard about his inheritance, knowing the pasha would have to die.

It was not a question of rank. It was a matter of retribution.

A matter of honor. He had already chosen his weapon: it would be a knife. A knife because it was easy to conceal, and very sure. He had slaughtered many animals with this knife.

Istanbul was a long way off, of course. But he knew the roads the camels took, as far as the boundary of his province. There would be people after that, to show him the way.

No one would notice the knife.