Simna ibn Sind spent a pleasant and gratifying morning at the seashore, collecting pebbles until his backpack was half full.
“I’m not a greedy man,” he told Ehomba when he was sated. He hefted his pack higher on his shoulders, and the weight of diamonds within clinked as they shifted and settled. “This little is enough for me. I’m going to go home and buy myself a small kingdom.”
Ehomba regarded his friend gravely. “Are you sure that is what you really want, Simna? To own a small kingdom?”
The swordsman hesitated, his smile fading. For a long moment he stood there, listening to the waves roll in to rustle the beach of diamonds, to the music of children playing, the chatter of merapes on the rocks offshore and the cries of seabirds and dragonets. Then he looked up at his tall friend and grinned anew.
“No, long bruther, I’m not sure that’s what I want—but I am going to give it a try.”
Ehomba nodded sadly. “Come into the village with me and we will arrange for the supplies you will need. I can give you some directions, and an introduction to a certain helpful monkey you may meet.”
Simna left the following morning, the herdsman escorting him as far as the fifth beach north of the village, where the fog began.
“If you’re ever in the far northeast,” the swordsman told his friend, “seek out the khanate of Mizar-lohne. That’s my homeland, and I’ll settle myself somewhere nearby.” He grinned one more time. “There are always kingdoms for sale thereabouts.” He sighed ruefully. “Who knows? Perhaps I might make another journey to find Damura-sese.”