As I notice a lightening in the sky, I walk back to the shelter. Andalus is snoring slightly, his hands spread across his belly as if he has been feasting splendidly. I sit outside, my back to the wall, close my eyes and wait for the sun to creep up the alleyway.

9

I sleep for a short time. I wake when people should be starting the working day. Andalus has not eaten the food I brought back. I help myself to half of it.

He is awake. I say to him, ‘We are going to the Marshal’s office now.

I will get answers from him. It will be easier if you talk.’ He sits with his hands on his legs, palms upwards. His feet are within touching distance. Sun glints through tears in the canvas behind him.

‘You need to explain yourself, my friend. I cannot look after you forever. Sooner or later you will be on your own.’

It is no surprise to me when he does not answer.

We go out into the sunshine and walk the short distance to the complex. There are four people in the courtyard of the town hall.

The Marshal is in conversation with another man. He is tall, wears a hood and I cannot see any of his features. The Marshal is the only one who faces me. The other two, I am convinced, are Elba and Amhara.

Though it is a little distance away and they have their backs to me and are wearing scarves over their heads, I am convinced. As soon as I enter the courtyard the Marshal notices me. He seems to whisper something to the three. They straighten up but do not turn. They walk through the open door behind the Marshal, the tall man leading the other two. The girl seems to hang back and begins to turn but the woman places a hand on her back and guides her through the door, which closes after them.

The Marshal waits for me, his hands crossed in front of him, unlike a soldier.

‘What can I help you with today?’ he asks.

Enough is enough, I decide. ‘We had an appointment yesterday.’

‘Did we?’

‘You mean to say you don’t remember?’

He shrugs.

‘Do you recognise me yet?’ I ask. I wonder if he notes my sarcastic tone. ‘You have had time to think, time to remember. I do not, I’m afraid, recognise you. You were perhaps a minor official when I left.’

The Marshal remains standing, not answering my question, waiting for me to finish.

‘I think you know who I am,’ I continue. ‘I think you know very well. What I can’t decide is why you would choose not to acknowledge me. Throughout my life I have been either hero or villain, depending on your political leanings. I have never been an object of indifference.’

The Marshal allows a smile to cross his lips.

‘But I am not the only issue here. The man I brought with me is one that has to be reckoned with. He is perhaps now of little use, of little consequence. Perhaps what he has seen has driven the life force from him but what he represents is important. The possibilities encased in his being here are what should be of interest. Perhaps the man Andalus is gone but we should understand why there is that void, the void in the space where he stands.’

‘You’re a philosopher,’ says the Marshal. ‘Or a poet.’

I do not respond to this.

‘Where is this man, then, this Andalus?’ He emphasises the second syllable, whereas he should know to emphasise the third. It is a mistake some of my less well-informed people used to make.

I do not correct him. I turn around, reaching out to Andalus who I assume is behind me. He is not. There is no sign of him.

I turn back to the Marshal. ‘He was here. He has wandered off.’

The Marshal smiles and turns to go.

‘I am not finished,’ I say. I have raised my voice.

He turns back. The smile has vanished.

‘Where are Elba and Amhara?’

‘Who do you mean?’

‘You know she doesn’t want to be a part of your plan. Hesitant at the very least.’

The Marshal looks at me without replying. His face is blank.

‘I saw them go inside.’

‘They are not who you say they are.’

I decide not to pursue that. Instead I say, ‘I would like to talk about my situation. I would like a decision from you. A deadline, at the least.’

‘You would like to talk,’ says the Marshal. It is not a question.

Before I can reply he stands aside and motions me through the door.

I walk straight ahead towards the staircase leading to the Marshal’s office. There is no sign of Elba and Amhara. Through a corridor I see the hall I was in last night. I think about going straight in there and questioning the meaning of the erasure of my name. But that can wait.

I walk up the stairs, past the doors to offices belonging to clerks and lower officials and straight through the door to the Marshal’s office.

Inside, things have changed slightly. There is a rug on the floor that wasn’ t there before and a cabinet against the right-hand wall. I notice too my portrait has been removed from above the desk. The space where it used to hang is darker than the surrounds. The desk and chair are the same and showing their age. I run my fingers over a scratch in the desk’ s surface. I remember making it – a slip of a knife. I remember it becoming dark with age. I turn to face the Marshal who just now appears in the door.

‘You seem to know your way around.’

‘Apparently so.’

Momentarily I feel as if I am back in my post and this man is the supplicant, instead of me. I find myself moving to the chair behind the desk but stop. I stand to one side and let the Marshal pass. He asks me to sit.

‘How may I help?’ The Marshal sits behind the desk, facing me.

‘You no doubt know who I am,’ I begin. ‘You no doubt know that according to the terms of my sentence I am not allowed to return to the settlement on pain of death. Nonetheless I have returned. You must be wondering why I have done so, why I have flouted the terms of my sentence.’

I pause but the Marshal says nothing.

‘I am surprised, I have to say, at the lack of urgency shown by you at my presence, at Andalus’ s presence indeed. I am surprised I am being left alone and not arrested. It is an agreeable turn of events in some ways but one which I would like to understand. We have things to clear up here. Firstly, you should be aware of the reasons for my presence since I believe as Marshal you have a duty to react to them.

That is my major concern, as it has always been. Secondly, I would like to understand what this means. Why has the policy of the town been to ignore me, to pretend they don’t remember, for this must be what is going on? Perhaps it is not my concern. I am, after all, no longer of this place. Nonetheless I would like to understand what it means. Will I be forced to leave again? Will I face execution? Will I have to serve time in prison within the colony? I hope for leniency, given the dangers I have faced bringing Andalus here, bringing him to your notice. Thirdly, I would like to talk about the events of the past, about what we did.’

He interrupts me. ‘Who is this man you have brought to us?’

‘You must know who he is. Andalus, the General of Axum, the one who brought near destruction on our people, as we did on his. The one I fought, the one with whom I concluded a peace.’

‘I have not seen Andalus.’ This time he changes his pronunciation.

‘He appears to be traumatised. He is certainly not the same man who led Axum. Something has happened and I believe we need to try to discover what it is. In the time since I found him he has not spoken, has not said a word. He is docile. Quite tame. Much like a dog, you might say. He does what you tell him. Every now and then I can see a glimmer in his eyes of who he used to be. There was an instance on the island when I was chopping wood. He came up behind me, like a ghost, and the expression in his eyes… I did not trust him for a while after that but he seems harmless.’