The Thief of Shagrim

Being the "honoured guest" of Sheikh Hekim of Shagrim certainly had its advantages - the mulled wine and the glazed dates for one - but it also had its distinct disadvantages, such as having ones feet cut of if the Sheikh decided he didn't like you. Afeek was sure the disadvantages outweighed the advantages, but the dates and the wine were slowly swaying his mind. At least until Abdul came back into the room and grinned like a drunken Djinn.

"Effendi Hekim would like to see you now, my flea bitten friend," he said, his air of smugness hinting that Sheikh Hekim was not in the best of moods. Afeek bit back one of his nastier retorts, and followed the hulking bodyguard out of the antechamber and into the Sheikh's meeting room.

Hekim was spread out on a mountain of cushions, puffing lazily on a Phatepian hubble-bubble pipe. Two beady eyes peered out from a face that resembled nothing so much as the rear end of a camel. Afeek could remember the first time he had clapped eyes on the ugly Sheikh; only the thought of having his tail cut off and fed to the palace dogs saved him from bursting out in laughter. This time was no different, except that he knew he was facing much worse than having his tail cut off. He had been promoted to the eye-gouging, intestine-unravelling stage.

Abdul pushed him forward and he bowed reluctantly. "Sheikh Hekim, I come before you as your humble servant."

Hekim snorted and waved a hand dismissively. "And were you coming before me as a humble servant when Abdul caught you pilfering some of my favourite jewels? Pah, don't answer that."

"Whatever it was, I haven't forgotten it," said the Sheikh, languishing backwards and coming close to falling off the precariously balanced heap of cushions. Afeek bit back a giggle and forced himself to focus on the intestine unravelling, unpleasant as it was.

"And my faithful Abdul tells me you don't yet have the money I asked for," Hekim continued. He blew a crooked smoke ring that dissolved almost as soon as it left the pipe. Hekim scowled irritably, and turned his attention back to the Katrin thief. "Is this true?"

"In a sense," said Afeek. He took a quick step backwards, earning himself another heavy cuff around the head from Abdul. "I do have your money, but as I was explaining to your dim-witted manservant here, it is not on me." Another cuff. Afeek felt a headache coming on.

The Sheikh snorted and made another attempt at a smoke ring. It looked more like a square, but Hekim seemed satisfied and smiled smugly. "Yes, Abdul did mention that, but said that he didn't believe you. Neither do I."

Afeek made a half-hearted attempt at astonished shock, but realised glumly that he was already way beyond talking his way out of this. He flicked a mournful glance at the door and thought sadly of his bed at home. He could sitting atop the covers right now, counting his money, if it hadn't been for that camel-fathering, mush-for-brains Abdul. As if reading his mind, the slow-witted bodyguard cuffed him happily around the head.

"And now I come to the important part," said Hekim. He shuffled forward then spent a few panicked moments righting the wobbling tower of cushions. Afeek uttered a low giggle and ducked quickly. Abdul booted him up the rear.

Afeek rubbed his injured bottom and wondered fearfully what the important part could be. It probably involved a sharp sword and several vital parts of his anatomy. The Sheikh was not much to look at, but he was certainly inventive. "I want you to do a special job for me," said Hekim.

The Sheikh nodded. "There is a particularly rare item of no uncertain value that I require you to obtain for me. Bring it to me within a week and I shall drop the debt you owe me."

For a moment Afeek struggled to find his tongue. It appeared to be stuck to the roof of his mouth. Finally he muttered the question that was foremost in his mind. "What's in it for me?"

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