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Tashka and Arianna bent low in the saddle. Tashka had set their stirrups high, as was her habit. They grinned in the blue dawnlight at each other as they galloped through the meadows past the still silent camp of First H’las, up a hill to the line of trees silhouetted against the lightening sky above. When they reached the ridge at the top of the hill, Tashka produced rolls and clay bottles of hot chocolate that she had got the night cook to put together so they dismounted, tied the horses to a post conveniently placed there and sat down to break their fast. Below them, smoke rose from one of the huge kitchen chimneys in a thin spiral. The castle walls were grey-blue in the dawning light, no one moved in the shadowed gardens. A dog barked in the distance. They saw the black dot that was Imp racing up the hill towards them. The air was chill on their faces and the grass was wet with dew, they had to squat on their heels. Arianna smiled, her bottle of hot chocolate warm in her hands.. He banged on the door again, this time with even more force. The dog barked uncontrollably. Suddenly he heard the locks unlatch, and in the doorway appeared his mother, Maryam. Her small face, grossly thin and hollow, showed dark rings under her eyes, and she wore a cotton night-suit which fell to her ankles.She opened the door slowly. She said not a word, and by the threadbare shawl covering her head, Mustafa knew she must have been in the middle of prayers. His mother resumed her prayers as Mustafa looked on, not knowing her reaction to his return. She finished her prayers as a matter of course and approached him in the quiet, murky glow of the apartment, the lamp in the corner of the room casting strange shadows across the ceiling.“You must ask Allah for forgiveness,” she said almost inaudibly, her finger pointing. Tomorrow we will go to the mosque.”Mustafa wished he had stayed in Boston under the care of the psychiatrist who dismissed him. Although he had been alone in the.
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