And because Celino knows such things, I cannot kill him. But I must see to it that he never again does anything like this to endanger us.
As they rode on, Daoud realized that the old man had stopped moaning. He heard Celino whispering something that sounded like a prayer.
"How fares the old man?"
Celino sounded angry. "He's dead."
On the other side of Celino the boy let out a wail of anguish, and then sobbed bitterly. Daoud felt a surge of grief. He was not sure whether it was for the boy or for himself.
"We should leave his body behind," he said to Celino. "Going this fast, that horse cannot carry both of you much farther." Anger at all this useless trouble constricted his throat and made his voice husky.
The boy cried, "No!" It was almost a scream.
"I can manage," said Celino.
"I will not leave him!" the boy shouted.
Sophia whispered, "I wish we had never seen them—without our help, they might only have been robbed. That poor boy!"