The strategist did not yield, however. He decided to open a debate with the merchant about the difference between the physical world and life by asking one simple question: “Wouldn’t it be more appropriate for an advocate of free trade to say that commerce is our world rather than to finish by saying that commerce is life?”
The trade advocate was not ready to yield, either: “This debate could take a long time, but I would like to end it before it leads to a quarrel, as always happens. With my master’s permission I wish to conclude it with a single sentence: for a merchant, commerce is a commandment, and each commandment creates a life for anyone who cherishes it. Am I on the right track?”
“You’re right. My question contains the germ of a lengthy debate. Why haven’t you mentioned the epidemic?”
“As is always the case, an epidemic is followed by chaotic confusion.”
“Confusion?”
“And confusion, as you know, is a blind witch that does not distinguish between proximate and remote causes.”
“I really don’t understand.”
“I mean the confusion has touched our master as well.” The stranger cast an inquiring look at Amghar, who abandoned his recondite language to explain, “The finger of suspicion has been pointed even at our master.”
“Ha, ha. . . .”
“The footprints of some strangers fill with heavy rain. The footprints of other foreigners are cracked with drought. On the heels of some strangers comes joy. On the heels of others comes foul play. Each step a stranger takes contains a secret.”
“This has been said forever and a day.”
“People associate the women’s miscarriages with your footsteps.”
“Really?”
The sage Elelli stepped in front of them. He was accompanied by the diviner Yazzal, who said, as if continuing the unfinished conversation: “Your arrogance has worked against you. If only you had accepted a bite to eat from people, the finger of suspicion would not be pointed at you now.”
He replied immediately, as if to reconfirm their ongoing conversation: “I think people will continue to point accusing fingers, even if we accept a morsel of food from them.”
“The morsel is a balm. A piece of food is an amulet that drives away insinuations and safeguards people against other people’s evil. Believe me.”
“People are naturally inclined to look for a scapegoat.”
“But there’s no question that people repeat with conviction the saying that a man who refuses food people offer is a man who fears people and that a man who fears people is frightening.”
“Why should people fear a man who doesn’t care to eat with other folks?”
“Because they feel sure he is a strategist; because they’re certain he’s hiding some scheme up his sleeve.”
“Scheme?”
“Yes, indeed. According to local custom, abstention is a scheme. Withdrawal from society is always considered a conspiracy by customary law.”
The strategist exhaled generously in preparation for wading into a no-holds-barred debate, but the appearance of the tribe’s chief, accompanied by the fool, made it difficult to continue and made the group feel uneasy. So he swallowed his argument, preferring to remain silent.