The emir was thrown into his thoughts. It was not hot inside the cave, but a droplet of sweat slid down his forehead. "Paşa!", he exclaimed as if angry. "They are four thousand, all on aatlar! If we set out with only 200, or even as many as we have, they will all die. I cannot lie to my men that I am not sending them to certain death. It is against the Prophetess' word and it will poison our future."
Fatima threw a glance at a sealed casket that stood by the cave's end. Her language from earlier made no dismay for her father, but now, without any obvious reason, his thick eyebrows shriveled into a night coloured embodiment of anger. Fatima's glance dropped on floor and she made sure not to look at the casket again.
The emir nodded to the paşa. "Only volunteers. Each must know the odds. Efendi Seth?", he looked at him, as if expecting a miracle from the stranger.