“Peace be upon you also, Ahmed, but I am sorry to say that I require no service.”
“Are you not journeying to Damascus?”
Christian lifted his foot “Yes, but I have a sturdy pair of shoes and strong legs to take me there.”
Ahmed’s dark eyes twinkled as he lifted a scrawny arm and pointed to the scrub covered dunes in the distance. “The great city of Damascus is many leagues hence by swift camel, young sir. And you must beware the evil Jinn that guards this land and has been known to rend a traveller limb from limb with his devilish fangs and cast him into the swarming scorpion pits that are hidden beneath the sand. Only one who has spent his entire life…” He bowed and placed his bony hand upon his heart.” I am licensed, young sir, as an agent of transportation. For the price of a few coppers and by the grace of Almighty Allah, Giver of all things, my faithful beast shall willingly convey you in princely comfort and good speed to your destination.” He waved his other hand at his camel, quietly ruminating with yellowed, worn down teeth.
Christian eyed the motley animal. The hide shone with careful grooming and its impressive harness dazzled the eye with polished bells and coloured tassels but bald patches were showing on its flanks and its nobbled knees were cracked with age. He looked down at the child gazing up at his father with pride and smiled. “In that case, I thank you for your generous offer, Ahmed. I would be honoured to have you conduct me to Damascus. A few coppers you say?”
They haggled and bargained for most of the afternoon until both were almost satisfied, one feeling he had paid too much, the other feeling he’d been paid too little.
They sealed their business with a glass of strong tea and arranged to meet at dawn of the next day.
He spent the night above a shop sleeping three to a stained and bug ridden mattress, the two others with him snoring and farting loudly all night. He kept one eye open, his back to the wall and his pouch clutched to his chest. But he had no need to worry.
Crime in these lands was punished so severely that his possessions could have been left in plain sight and remained untouched. He staggered out bleary eyed at dawn to hear the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer and stood in the doorway listening, his scalp tingling. He bowed his head in prayer also and gave thanks to the Lord.
Little Ahmed was waiting for him, standing in rigid attention by the door. They threaded their way through the crowded, noisy streets to where old Ahmed waited with not one, but two camels.
Christian was assigned the elder, balding one, due to the other’s habit, according to Ahmed, of spitting and biting all in the one breath. It felt strange sitting atop the unwieldy beast but once he’d gotten used to it, found it fleet footed and quick to respond.
They set off, Christian full of excitement and anticipation. They should be in Damascus by sunset of the next day, by the grace of Allah, most loving, most merciful.
*
Christian was sure that by the time the pitiless sun reached its height, it would have boiled the marrow in his bones but Ahmed was solicitous of his comfort and reminded him often of the water-skin tied to the camel’s side. “Drink, my friend, else the demons of the sand will enter through your mouth and nostrils and turn your innards to dust.” and he pointed to the sun bleached skull of a horse half buried in the sand “You see, even the proud offspring of Saladin’s mighty steeds do not have the strength to resist them.”
He wrapped his cloth tighter about his face. His eyes felt burned and sandblasted and flies buzzed annoyingly around them. He’d finally become used to the camel’s loping gait and stilled the bile that rose in his throat every time he looked down and he began to enjoy the journey through the endless landscape of the desert, seeing a timeless beauty in the immaculate dunes sculpted by the wind driven sands.
Ahmed was a good companion, keeping up a steady commentary of their surroundings, sprinkled with round eyed warnings of evil genies and quicksands and venomous serpents that slithered sideways, their flickering blue tongues tasting the air for the sweat of their next victim.
They galloped on until the sun reached its zenith and just when Christian felt he would topple from the saddle with exhaustion, Ahmed stopped and erected an awning from poles and cloth he’d carried on his own camel’s back. He produced, as if by magic, sweet oranges, flat bread, spicy goat meat and a leather flask of tea, warmed by the sun. They slept in the shade till the sun began to set in golden rays, then Ahmed gave him cakes sweetened with honey and more tea and helped him to mount once again.
The evening had cooled and he shivered in his thin clothes as the camels kept up their steady pace. Ahmed threw him a rough blanket smelling strongly of goats and he rode on through the darkening night, warm and grateful for the kindness.
When the way ahead became an inky blackness and the sand shimmered with ghostly light, he looked up at the sky, at a blazing glory of starlight and laughed with joy. Never had he realised there were so many stars in the sky. He threw back his head, craning his neck to take in the wondrous sight. He felt small…and humbled. And yet, he was an entity also, a tiny speck, less than a mote of dust, but with a purpose and a reason, a microcosmos in the great macrocosmos of being. He had his place in this great immensity too and the unimaginable force that guided this wonder, guided him.
A distant memory came to his mind, of his father and bedtime tales and scorching deserts travelled by the light of the stars. Had his father marvelled at these same sights, wondered at his place in the universe also?
They stopped to rest at dawn and Christian was again amazed at his guide’s munificence, more food appearing from the old man’s voluminous saddlebags, salted fish and sesame cakes and plump, juicy dates. As he sat in the shade of their makeshift tent, he watched Ahmed as he rolled out his prayer mat and knelt to pray, his head touching the sand. On an impulse, he took up his astrolabe and sighted it on the horizon and the Quibla and was surprised to see that the old man faced that direction exactly. He determined to ask him how he knew but when Ahmed returned he saw Christian with the astrolabe still in his hand. “Young sir, you carry a star-taker. How came you to have such a thing?”
A star-taker? He liked the sound of that name. “It was a gift Ahmed. One that I cherish.”
Ahmed examined the brass discs carefully, running his fingers reverently over the raised symbols. “I was not always this dried up bag of bones. I spent my youth in the house of a great lord, in service to his wise astrologer Artephius, may Allah grant him joy. I was bound to him as a servant and carried his instruments of divination and magic. One of those instruments was a device such as this.”
At the mention of this Christian’s eyes lit up “Magic… divination? Oh Ahmed, tell me more. I have journeyed here for knowledge. I must know more… I beg you.”
The camel driver laughed, his eyes disappearing in heavy lidded folds “Knowledge is a heavy burden. Why not aspire to be a warrior like my sons and dream simple dreams of glory and long limbed virgins and fountains flowing with wine? The possession of learning can bring you nothing but sorrow.”
“But Ahmed, without it, life is not worth the living.”
The old man fixed his eyes on Christian. “Then beware, young lord, do not be deceived by magic tricks and signs and portents. It is true, my master often used these guiles, but to mystify and bedazzle. Their real purpose was to gain trust so that his true knowledge may be employed. The healing of the sick, the finding of sweet water in the wells, the best times of the moon to plant, these are the real magic.”
He gazed at Ahmed…and remembered the parchment wrapped prism and its thickly printed words ‘Nothing is as it seems.’ Had he not youth’s disdain for the wrinkled skin and faded eyes of age, he would have seen the reality of the man sitting quietly in front of him. Ahmed had left little Ahmed in the care of his mother, one of three young wives he’d taken to comfort him in his old age, three others having gone to their rest. He had sixteen children, two of them younger than Ahmed. He was strong still and had produc
ed from his baggage a veritable cornucopia of riches and shared then generously with a stranger. Once again he determined to evaluate his impressions more carefully.
Ahmed went on “I watched my master rid a whole town of the pestilence once. He climbed the minaret in his starry robes and waved his staff, thundering incantations over the heads of the people, then ordered the killing and burning of vermin that prowled the streets and the washing of garments and bedding. He told them his powerful magic would not enter an unclean dwelling. Within the space of two moons the sickness was gone. The people declared him to be a great magician and raised up their arms but he would have none of it.”
He sighed “That was a very long time ago. Magicians and soothsayers crawl over the land like maggots now, preying on the gullible and greedy. But the light does not shine around them and true adepts are not fooled by their sleight of hand.”
Christian sat, mesmerised. He felt that he was entering a new world, where magic was real and the taint of heresy mattered little. “True adepts? Ahmed, you speak in words that glitter like gold and jewels. Please, tell me more.”
He laughed “No young Lord, we must continue on, for if all is well, we will be in Damascus by sunset.”
At the mention of Damascus, Christian realised that Ahmed had already known his destination. “Ahmed, who told you I was bound for Damascus?”
“No-one Lord.”
He felt the tingle of the mysterious. Had this old man the power of divination? Had he known by some unearthly knowledge of his intent? “Then how did you know? Are you an adept also?”
“You did not see me on the ship, talking to the sail-maker? I asked if there were any who wished transportation. He pointed to you and told me you spoke of a great city of learning.” Then he burst into peels of good natured laughter while Christian climbed sheepishly on to the camels back.
*
That day, they did not stop when the sun reached its height, but galloped on. His camels hump was growing limp, it needed to drink. A young camel could travel the desert for a week without needing water but age softened animals as well as people. And their own supply was dwindling now. Signs of other travellers also appeared, tracks from a passing caravan, smoke from a fire in the distance, a discarded sandal. Within the hour all would have disappeared in the wind blown sand, but Christian knew that it meant they were close.
Then they topped a dune and saw Damascus arrayed before them like a garden of golden flowers in the desert.
He let out a whoop and spurred his ungainly mount on but Ahmed called him back before he reached the gates. “Come, young Lord, let us take a glass of tea before you enter the city.” So they sat in the shade of the hobbled camels, sharing the last of the tea and cake his favourite wife had made for their journey. “Where will you go, when you are within?”
Christian spoke through a mouth full of crumbs “I have been given a letter of introduction to a merchant. I hope to gain employment there and when I have the means, make my way to Jerusalem.”
Ahmed seemed to think on this for a while, closing his eyes as if asleep and then he said, quietly “My master still lives…” and Christian’s head jerked up in surprise.
“The passing of the years seem to wither him not, for it is said that he has in his possession the magic stone of the philosophers to keep him young.”
Christian’s heart began beating loudly, he’d read of the fabled stone that brought the heart’s desire to those who knew it’s secret. “I must speak with him. I must know. Will you take me to him Ahmed?”
“Alas young Lord, I cannot. He dismissed me from his service. I had become unclean, unworthy to touch even the hem of his robe.” He hung his head in shame at the memory. “I chose a wife, you see…a beautiful girl of twelve years, chaste and full of life. On the eve of our betrothal she was pulled form her mother’s arm by a stranger and carried away. After the brute finished with her, he cut her throat and left her to die in the street.
I hunted him down and made him pay for his crime. He begged me to kill him in the end and I did…gladly.” Ahmed grinned and Christian saw a glimpse of satisfaction in the dark eyes. “My master knew I had blood on my hands as soon as he set eyes on me and turned me out.
I did not understand then, my heart was full of wrath, but I understand now. Revenge destroys the avenger. It stains the very life blood with evil. It was many years before I felt clean again. Ask in the town for Artephius and seek his advice. He is a good man and will direct you wisely. You will not find him in a palace, for he has cast off worldly things but with those who are suffering and the poor.”
Christian clasped Ahmed’s hand in gratitude “I thank you, my friend. I am overwhelmed by your generosity. This fine journey, I will remember all my days.
Assalamu Alaicum.”
As he gathered up his things to walk the short way, Ahmed held up a hand in farewell.
“May the mercy and blessings of Allah be upon you also, young Lord. And beware the honey- tongued rogues in the marketplace and the painted serpents of the night, who will coo in your ear like doves and relieve you of your purse as you sleep.”
*
A rivulet of sparkling water flowed softly down from the mountain bordering the city’s eastern side and bubbled through an aqueduct running under the stout walls. Pretty wild flowers and grasses grew on both sides of its banks and small trees trailed their branches in the clear, clean water. He walked behind a family of Bedouins, crossed the sturdy stone bridge and through the open gates.
No guard stood sentinel or questioned his business there and he followed the others, walking narrow roads, through thickly planted orchards of apples, nuts, apricots and plums, the ripe fruit hanging heavily on the branches.
It seemed to Christian that he was walking in the Garden of Eden after the parched journey through the desert and he relished the damp, cool feel of the leaves on his face. He could see golden domes and cupolas shining above the trees and low buildings of sun- baked clay. He drank cool water from a marble fountain by the side of the road and rested in a rose covered arbour while others gazed in rapture at the sight, loudly exclaiming the beauty and peacefulness of their surroundings.
Men tended the gardens and swept the paths, others perched on ladders quietly picking the ripened fruit or pruning the branches with sharp curved blades. A man in a dusty turban and mud splattered pantaloons offered him a handful of walnuts as he passed and Christian smiled his thanks.
He walked on, passing small shops selling ironware, pottery and woven fabrics and stopped to examine a sword-smith’s beautifully wrought blades glinting gold in the setting sun. He saw a mosque topped by a glittering cupola, with row after row of sandals and pointed toed slippers set neatly on its steps and over the doorway of a dun coloured building the Arabic sign for ‘pilgrim’ and help. He made his plans.
After he presented himself to the merchant who might grant him employment, he would return to this place and offer assistance in accord with the decision both he and Andre had made; to heal the sick and that gratis. Then he would seek out Ahmed’s master the soothsayer and beg for instruction. He would tarry here a little while learning what he could, then make his way to the Holy Sepulchre, in Jerusalem.
The shadows of the trees lengthened as the sun began to set. He could smell the smoke from the cooking fires as the women began to prepare the evening meals and hear the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer, gave thanks once again, and curled up under a softly rustling tree to sleep.
*
He didn’t see the snake until after it had bitten him. He came awake in an instant, knowing he was in danger, pain searing his leg. Then he saw it coiled at his feet and blood trickling from the wound. He lay rigid, too frightened to move, watching its glittering eyes, its diamond shaped snout. The horn on either side of its head told him it was a viper and he thought of Andre’s tale of many a knights’ deadly encounter and the horses bolting in terror at the sight. The sun had just risen and he could see no-one who might
help.
He lay still until his eyes grew dim and the buzzing in his ears became a rushing torrent of noise. It seemed as if his mouth was filled with wool and a heavy weight lay on his chest, crushing the breath out of him. He knew he should do something before his dream came to nought and he went to heaven with nothing to make his mother proud. At the thought of this he stirred, took hold of a rock that lay nearby and flung it hard at the reptile which was rearing up to strike again. It whipped away and slithered off through the trees while he pulled himself slowly to his feet and staggered toward the pilgrim’s rest.
He passed others walking or setting out their wares for sale but no-one seemed to notice the young man stumbling along the road. Perhaps they thought he was mad, or overcome with sickness. He banged on the door and fell to his knees, his apothecary box and pouch and unbearable burden in his effort to breathe. He knew no more until he awoke next day, his leg aflame and his eyes swollen shut.
Was he blind? He felt panic rise inside him. Please Lord… not blind. How could he obtain knowledge without sight? How could he tend the sick? Was he destined to spend his life in darkness when all about him was light? He groped for his leg and touched where the skin burned and cried out in pain. He heard himself whimpering and could not still it.
Then a firm hand grasped his and a deep, calm voice whispered in his ear “Be at peace. Almighty Allah, in His infinite mercy has spared you.” He quieted and the voice went on “The wise serpent kept back her venom in the knowledge you meant her no harm. It was merely out of fear that she struck. And are not all beings thus, who strike out in fear, we more than the asp or the viper?”
He tried to sit up.
Again the whispered voice “Nay, young sir, rest, I have covered your eyes lest the light damage them further but the flesh of your leg is much swollen and it will cause you more pain should you move.”
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