He wanted to back out, but it was too late. He had already told Bastina and Debbat about his decision. Bastina wouldn’t be a problem if he changed his mind, but Debbat would be merciless. She’d tell everyone. Better to kill himself and…

“No,” he muttered. “Take it a step at a time. If I can find a slave, I’ll deal with the next problem. Then the problem after that, and the one after that, and…”

Jebel studied the slaves curiously as he wandered. He hadn’t much experience of these low people. His father didn’t trust slaves and preferred to pay servants to look after his children.

Most were from Abu Rashrasha or Abu Kheshabah. They were pale, pasty creatures, some the color of milk, with limp, straight hair, in many cases blond or ginger. Most of them had blue or green eyes, and they were less physically developed than other tribes of the Eastern Nations, small and slender.

Jebel knew little about slaves, what their lives were like, whether they had one wife, two, or twenty. He didn’t even know if they married. How should he approach one and convince him to travel to Tubaygat and give up his life for the glory of Jebel Rum? He couldn’t bribe the slave — even if he had money, it wouldn’t be much good. “I’ll pay you fifty gold swagah when you’re dead.” Ludicrous!

Jebel had heard many stories about famous questers, how they’d journeyed to Tubaygat, the adventures they’d faced, their defeats and conquests. But he’d never been told how they picked their sacrificial companions.

Jebel stopped outside one of the noisier houses. The rooms were brightly lit, and the thin curtains were a mix of vivid pinks, blues, and greens. Women hovered outside, calling to men, inviting them in for drinks and company.

Perhaps he could pay one of the women to accompany him. Questers normally took a male slave, but it wasn’t obligatory. A woman could be sacrificed too. Jebel could lie, tell her he wanted her for companionship, then…