Page 9 - Unlikely Stories 4
P. 9

A Lot of Brass



        can  dispose  of it profitably.  My  coreligionists, dispersed  across the
        land and sea, have many contacts. My own extended family trades in
        every sort of goods in all the major cities of the world. We also have
        the ability to muster and marshal the means of transport to get the
        job  done  on  time.  And we  can  finance  deals  of any  magnitude  by
        virtue  of  letters  of  credit  issued  by  our  bankers  to  their
        representatives.”
          Mu’ayiwa looked at his right-hand man.
          “Is that true?”
          “Yes.  I  myself  have  seen  these  bills  of  exchange  produce  their
        promised amount of cash on presentation. I will have to examine his
        papers, of course, to validate them. That explains his small purse.”
          “Jew!” thundered the emir. “You yourself will be the guarantor of
        your promise, should we come to an agreement.”
          The old man shrugged.
          “There  is  one  problem,”  he  said  quietly.  “The  inhabitants  of
        Rhodes have a powerful belief in the power of their fallen idol, even
        after  it  was  smashed  ages  ago  by  an  angry  demon  subsequently
        unable to save them from invaders. They will not be willing to assist
        in its removal. Your soldiers will have to intervene.”
          The emir frowned.
          “Perhaps that would make the price too high: I have subdued the
        population, but it won’t be easy to stop their interference.”
          “Of course I will take that into consideration,” said Moshe. “And
        rest assured I am eager to be away from these pagans with a cargo
        that will have made my trip worthwhile. You see, many people have
        had  their  eye  on  that  colossal  mass  of  metal  lying  here  on  the
        ground—alloys of copper and other materials easily converted into
        other  uses—but  I  am  the  only  one  here  now  able  to  do  it,  and
        gladly.”
          “Gladly?” the vizier’s eyebrows rose.
          “The  sons  of  Ishmael  and  those  of  Isaac  are  both  sons  of
        Abraham, the iconoclast. Representations of God are anathema to us
        as  much  as  they  are  to  you.  We  often  find  ourselves  a  powerless
        minority in lands where we cannot destroy such abominations. You
        can and will. Our interest is the same here: crushing an idol. I could
        not purchase it as scrap metal from the believers. But it is not theirs

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