“Indeed not,” Debbat said mockingly. “Nobody could stop you becoming high lord either, if you had a mind to.”

“But I don’t,” Jebel said. “I’ll swear to that if your father will hear my request. That’s one of the reasons I don’t want to ask my own father, so there can be no trouble between our families.”

“The other reason being he wouldn’t let you go.” Debbat laughed. “It’s been a hundred years since anybody completed a quest to Tubaygat. Dozens of our finest warriors have died trying, or returned defeated and shamed. What makes you think you’ll fare any better?”

“I’ve nothing to lose,” Jebel said softly. “I’m shamed anyway if I stay.”

Debbat started to dismiss him. He was a silly boy and he was wasting her time. But then she saw his look of glum determination and stopped. She was sure he’d fail, but in the unlikely event that he did return triumphant, he would be the most revered man in Abu Aineh. He would become the executioner and claim her as his wife. Her mother had taught her never to offend those you might one day be at the mercy of.

“What makes you think my father will hear your request?” she asked.

“You’re his favorite daughter,” Jebel said. “He’ll listen if you enter a plea on my behalf.”

“Why should I? I’d have to vouch for you. I’d be discredited if you failed.”

“No,” Jebel said. “I’ll quest in your name. If I die, you’ll be honored. If I fail and survive, I give my word that I’ll never come back.”

Debbat was excited. No one had ever quested in her name. Her friends would be jealous when they found out, even if the quester was only pathetic Jebel Rum.

“Very well,” Debbat said. “I’ll ask him. I’ll wait until he’s eaten — he’s always in a good mood then. Return tonight and bring your slave.”