Desert Wind 4 

 

An Arabian Tale

 

Betrayal

 

Muhammad woke from a dreamless sleep. A night breeze had disturbed the drapes around his couch and in that moment he swore he heard a sighing voice: A dark force threatens the stars and the peace of the desert Awake....... awake.......... awake.................. awake

 

He moved from a sleeping state to a waking one without a start. He was the master, there was no cause for concern, trusted guards watched over him, and yet something troubled him. He felt no fear since he was fearless, but he was attuned to the desert, and felt that something was amiss.

 

He arose from his bed of perfumed silk and soft feather pillows and donned a black robe that was always set out for him which had a short curved scimitar attached to it. He moved toward the outer tent with a swift gliding motion his hand on handle of the scimitar. There was no guard where there should have been one. He hesitated as if in thought, and then turned towards his inner quarters, brushed aside the hanging drapes and stepped into his concubines quarters.

 

He stood for a moment, his dark flashing eyes accustoming themselves to the dark interior. There should have been a small oil lamp alight to spread a soft glow across their quarters, but there was none, and where was the eunuch that was their servant and their protector? A flutter of concern arose in Mohammed’s stomach, and he felt his heart miss a beat as he saw that their quarters were empty! Where were his girls?

 

He stood perfectly still, he could not sense danger yet this called for measured action. He moved sideways into the cover of the drapes. Did he see a form, did he smell one? Into his mind there flashed the images of the Holerine, the scourge of the desert tribes, a cold sweat formed across his back, if they had slid in, in their noiseless way, with their leather garrottes at the ready, why was he still alive.

 

He started as a hand touched his shoulder, his scimitar was out in an instant, his arm forming that upward sweep that in one motion would slice through a chest and up to the throat. A stronger arm than his stopped it in mid flight, it was the eunuch!

 

The eunuch, standing seven feet tall towered over Mohammed, his heavily muscled body was naked and covered with oil, in the darkness that pervaded the tent the only thing that could be seen was the betrayal in his eyes.. Muhammad tried to grip him but his hands slid off the slippery fore arm, and he realised that the eunuch had been prepared for some kind of attack, he could not be held with his body so oiled.

 

Mohammed was puzzled over this but he had no time to consider it. He turned back toward his quarters and there standing over his couch was the outline of a figure silhouetted by the dull glow of the desert night through the open tent canopy.

 

Muhammad moved with avenging speed, enraged a such an incursion of his privacy, but before he could strike he heard the words of the desert breeze: Awake..........Awake.................. Awake ..................

The form moved with a certain graciousness as if feminine. He stopped, confused, what was this some sorcery, had he not heard those words a moment before! ’What is my lord, you were disturbed in your sleep?’

 

He felt a cooling hand on his brow, it smoothed away the sweat that covered it. He lay back and considered the event, dream or illusion, or maybe a darker warning, he would double the guards in the morning! And then he felt the cord around hid neck! *******

 

*****************

 

The desert was dimly lit by the stars above. Eventually as Sheba’s eyes adjusted to the apparent gloom she could see quite well. She was moving in a shambling gate pulled along by the camel she was tied to. She had only her night garb on, and the cold desert night was beginning to numb her body. She feared the worst, she had heard many stories of the Hagoman and the fate of girls taken by them!

 

They had come in the night, silently without a word, clothed in black, their faces covered by a black hood with only a lit for their eyes. They were without mercy and moved through the camp killing by garrotting, their deadly technique, with a knotted cord.

 

Somehow they had overcome the eunuch and gagged the beloved of Muhammad (may Allah protect him) and carried them off to their camel train. Now twenty women, the property of Muhammad the mighty, were being dragged through the night. Theirs was, indeed a desperate situation! And so the night wore on.

 

The stars started to fade and the first fingers of the desert sun stretched across the sky in a glorious kaleidoscope of colour, the morning light illuminated the sad train of women being herded over the desert wastes.

 

The Hagomen had deliberately avoided the known desert trails in an attempt to hide their whereabouts, they knew the enormity of their action, they had attacked the camp of Muhammad, and ridden off with his precious harem. This was a crime of the most heinous nature, because it was not theft in the normal sense; to take without permission can be accepted by the owner as a gift, since it becomes the Will of Allah to give and to receive.

 

The ’thing’ itself is still of Allah, it is simply passed from one to the other, but the Koran expressly forbids the taking of the ’Brides of Allah’, as the harem girls are a called, they are his gift of his is love to be shared only by him and his chosen one. The Hagomen had embarked on a perilous course, and would not have done it by their own volition, there were darker forces at work here.

 

********

 

As the noose tightened around Muhammed’s neck he swung his arms up to grab his assailant and felt oily arms. His scrabbling fingers could not get a grip and slid off. Betrayal, the thought inflamed his mind, and with great power he twisted, grabbed for his curved dagger and brought it up in its deadly arc. The cord around his neck tightened and cut into the flesh, the pain was excruciating and raised him to greater anger, he was Muhammed, the greatest, he was fearless, but the more fought he the tighter it became and his last recollection was staring into black eyes with the venom of an enraged animal. He slid back unconscious!

 

********

 

A desert storm can come without warning. The rising heat sucks in the surrounding air and failing colder air sets up a rotation that gathers in strength until it whirls with tornado strength over a wide area, and so it was as the desolate band of prisoners were dragged across the desert.

 

They were heading south across the Ahk bin Al ridge, away from the coastal plains, where no camel train ventured, when the storm hit them. At first it was nothing, a gentle breeze, one that teased rather than threatened, and did not seem a threat. The camels seemed uneasy as they sensed the change in the air conditions, and began to sway and snort uneasily. Sheba noticed this, and looking out across the desert saw the first signs of what was to come.

 

First a strange change in the light, the normal blue becoming tinged with red and dust clouds rising high, and twisted by the eddying currents, forming weird shapes accompanied by a strange sighing. She heard a low moan, and disregarding her bindings, threw herself down to prostrate herself before Allah.

 

The sound rose to a higher pitch, and one of the shapes swung and curled in the air, ever coming closer until it was over the desperate band of prisoners, then forming a head with a serpents tail it swept down and enveloped Sheba in a maelstrom of sand until she stood in a funnel made by the swirling motion.

 

She knelt, waiting for the will of Allah to take her life, and then she heard a voice, at first high pitched to match the screaming wind, and then in a lower voice as all became calm within the Vortex; Heed not thy pain for in thy modesty you have shown strength before Allah. He calls upon you a great service and will for ever be in your debt. Тhу master needs you, give up thyself to do his will.

 

Sheba was petrified, she, a simple peasant girl picked to do the work of the Almighty, she threw herself down on the sand, and it was a if the world had stopped and held its breath waiting for her reply.

 

'I am not worthy, Oh Lord, of the smallest crumb from your table, but thy will is my will, and you shall be served as even the mightiest, so I bow myself at your command.’ 

Truly spoken, go hence and you will be a Queen among your people.

 

The swirling tunnel of sand closed in on Sheba and tightened its grip and drew her up into the sky, shearing the tether as if it were straw. And in that moment the storm abated and left the band of assassins and their prisoners who were awestruck at a mighty storm so quickly gone, as had Sheba!

 

**********

 

Muhammad lay in a pool of blood. A ghostly figure administered to his prostrate form. He was ashen of face as if close to death, his body twisted, in the last throws before death, and yet, there was a sign of life. A heart, so strong in life, still gave a small murmur as if to say I will not desert you. And so it was.

 

He was administered with healing balm, the garrotting cord was loosened at the back, it was so tightly embedded in the skin that it could not be removed but the release of pressure allowed a breath of air into that mighty chest. It was seen that the blood was not his but that of the eunuch who had been cleaved from groin to throat by the last mighty blow of the Lord of the desert.

 

Many days passed before he was at full strength, and as he recovered he was puzzled as to who his saviour might be. At last he arose and made to leave his tent and there was the peasant girl making ready to leave holding her dowdy shawl around her.

 

He called out,

 

’Where goest thou, I am forever in your debt?’

'No my Lord, I do the will of Allah, we are doubly blest.’

 

And, as she turned her shawl fell away and revealed the face of Sheba, robed in a shimmering dress of gold that outshone the stars in the firmament. Muhammad was stunned, he the mighty and she the weak ......... as the thought passed across his mind he saw the vanity of it, and fell back in mighty confusion and humility, and then committed the greater vanity;

’Stay, and thou will be my Queen.’

 

Sheba turned again and smiled,

‘Your pride is greater than your service, so shall you fall.’

 

As she said the words a desert wind swept in, lifted her above the sandy floor, it seemed that a hand was extended to her as she ascended from sight. As she did so a voice with no sound whispered its warning;

 

Thy pride has betrayed you so shall you do my bidding and the thong on your neck will be my sign. Muhammad fingered the thong many times, for there it remained, embedded in his neck.