Excerpt…
Gaza, October 1323
IN BAGHDAD, AN astute Firas arranged for them to leave with a caravan en route for the port of Gaza. He explained, not unreasonably, that he didn’t want the Baghdadian euphoria over North Wind’s month-long winning streak to erode into ennui and jealousy, which could lead to attempts at retaliation by those citizens who had bet against the stallion and lost. Everyone agreed that this made sense and started to pack.
The man who had been following them presented himself to the caravan master shortly after Firas’ conversation with that same gentleman and asked for employment. He appeared trim and fit and wore weapons that looked well used and well tended. It was two hundred leagues to Gaza. Since the Seljuks paid more attention to law and order within their cities than without, the way grew more fraught each year, and the caravan master was pleased to have another blade to safeguard their journey. When asked, he named several well-known caravan masters as previous employers and said they would give a good account of him. This caravan master didn’t bother to check. Few ever did.
Dana sez–How many times do you have to be told? Check their references! Sheesh.