Gold Dust

31

In his crypt, Ukhayyad chewed on a few dates, all the while tortured by the aroma of the meat roasting outside. Throughout the night, the smell had risen up to the summit of the mountain and then wafted down through the crevices in the stone. Eventually, it seeped into Ukhayyad’s hiding place and saturated the still air.

At the end of the night, he heard one of the men relieving himself at the door to his hiding place. Like a jinn, the man talked to himself, “I still haven’t tasted my moufflon. My moufflon got away. They don’t believe I saw him. I saw the ram of a lifetime, and won’t rest till I catch my prey. How can I go back to the oasis without his head in my hands? If I go back to Adrar without his head as my trophy, that means I’m going back to Aïr without my fair share of the spoils.”

Then Ukhayyad heard the man sob.

Ukhayyad could not believe his ears. He held his breath and concentrated all his senses on listening. He was not imagining things: the man was indeed crying. This kind of man was especially terrifying. When a man in the desert cries because he wants something so badly, it means he will surely attain it. This man wanted Ukhayyad’s head — and was crying because he had not got it. My God — had his wretched life suddenly become so important? No, he was not the object of their desire — the gold was. The itinerant herdsman had not been wrong — all his speculation about them had been right. They wanted nothing but the gold. And Ukhayyad was the serpent guarding the treasure. To take their plunder, they would have to kill the serpent standing in their way. He remembered Sheikh Musa’s prayer, “Lord, do not make me guardian over treasures of this world.” Now he understood what this priceless plea meant. The mind of the guardian is never at ease — and the sword lies forever upon his neck.

His heart now filled with distress — this den at the top of the mountain was not actually secure. All night long, the man’s weeping continued to ring in his ears. Where men suffer, there danger lies. Whenever you hear the man behind you weeping in pain, you can be sure of this: his hand will soon be upon you. Ukhayyad would not find safety in any one place. Safety would now be found only in moving — in fleeing across the wide open deserts.

He made the decision to abandon the mountain. At dawn tomorrow at the first opportunity, he would leave. During fits of sleep, he visited the house of shadows again. But at dawn, before he found a chance to escape, the piebald returned.