A dark face blotted out the light coming from the entrance. It was Fatima, and it was as if she sneaked into, because until then, no one had noticed her presence. There was visible fatigue and anger on her face, but she walked with such nonchalance as if she considered everything around to belong to her. "Fatima!", exclaimed the emir, "How many times did I tell you not to walk barefoot! You will step on a snake! Like... like..." - But his daughter dared interrupt her father - "Siktir, siktir!" - And with swearing too! "Arslan is full of sand!", she exclaimed, casually laying down on the filthy, cold ground, with the indifference of a lazy cat. "The stars be smothered, my men might need the whole day to clean the engines!". Arslan was apparently what they had named that specific Decurion. Understandably, being the only one they had, it deserved a name. This one meant lion in Tuareg. "What's the plan then?", she said as she sat up and looked at the paşa.