An Arab Steps

Haris left his weeping mother at the doorstep for the pilgrimage to the Holy City of Mecca, the Hajj. He spotted his old Sheikh in the distance. He found it strange. Shiekh wore his worn-out white thobe while he wore his new emerald green thobe. His old Shiekh carried only a staff and a water bottle, but he came fully prepared for the journey: Two water bottles and a sturdy staff. He wore a turban twice the size of his head to protect himself from the heat. He held the strip of a camel laden with more supplies.

"My Sheikh," he said as he bowed, but Shiekh stopped him with his hand.

"Bow only before Allah," he said.

He straightened himself. "Where are supplies? Are they with the caravan?"

"I have nothing else."

"Well, you can take mine."

"These are enough for me."

He looked around, and the beast of the earth ran toward them in the distance.

"Sheikh, please hurry. Here she comes."

"Who, Hinda?"

"Yes, please, hurry."

Shiekh smiled and turned toward her, but he pushed him away. "Shiekh, what are you doing?"

"I invited her." He hit him in the stomach with his staff. He grabbed his stomach but did his best to keep a straight face. She can’t see me like this.

She arrived with her veil clinging to the end of her head. Her dark hair was like the spikes of a cactus. Her sharp brown eyes snapped from place to place, looking for her next victim. They settled on his camel. She leapt and roared like a lioness. The camel jumped and dropped some supplies on Haris’ head. She smirked with her daggers as Haris rubbed his head.

"Hinda!" Sheikh stomped his foot, and his heavy voice reverberated in their ears. "Go, help him."

"What? Me?"

Haris put the supplies back on his camel. "No need, why are you even going? I guarantee you even Hajj won’t wash away your sins."

"Haris!" said Sheikh.

"What?"

Sheikh sighed. "You two are to behave, or I will leave you in the middle of the desert."

He stomped his staff, and they both followed him.

"You must protect her," Sheikh whispered.

"Protect her? I’d rather die."

"This is not a request."

They joined the caravan. Once upon a time, the caravans travelled under the protection of the Caliph’s army, but since the Mongol invasion, the caravans travelled through the bandit-filled desert alone. Sure enough, within a day, a band of bandits surrounded the caravan. Sheikh hid both of them in a caravan and sealed the doors.

"Open the caravan, old man!" a bandit shouted.

"No!"

A horse huffed, and a ting of armour rang out. "Where’s the key, Sheikh?" came a heavy voice.

"In my stomach."

"Take him and the caravan." The horse huffed again, and soon after, the caravan started moving.

"What will they do to him?" said Hinda.

"Kill him, probably."

"Don’t say that."

"I’m sorry, but he’s an old man. You can’t sell him to slavery, nor does he have any wealth to free himself. I told him to bring something, agh! Why doesn’t he listen to me?"

"What do we do?"

He grabbed a scimitar lying beside him. "You stay here. I’ll deal with them."

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"What? No, I’ll go with you."

"And what can a little girl like you do?"

She leapt at him, and he jerked back. "Better than you, hollow brain."

"Whatever."

The caravan stopped, and they waited for the noises to stop. Two guards tried to open their door. Haris kicked the door open and slit the throat of the guard to the right. He turned around, and the other guard’s scimitar was inches away from his chest. He could’ve attacked him, but fear gripped his hand. Hinda jumped out and took out a vial. The guard’s eyes spun, and he fell.

"What’s that?"

"One of my father’s medicines. He uses it to put his patients to sleep."

"And why do you have it?"

She hid it behind her back and smirked at him.

"You were gonna use it on me, weren’t you?"

She chuckled. "You should be grateful. It saved your life."

He pushed her aside and put his scimitar on the guard’s chest. He pressed, and the scimitar went in. The blood spurted out, and his bones cracked. A smile curved Haris’ face. He pressed, and the guard’s mouth opened. His tongue spurted; he wanted to scream, yet his lungs gave him no air. His eyes numbed, and his hands trembled.

"What are you doing?" said Hinda as she pulled his scimitar.

"They kidnapped my Sheikh." His blood-red eyes dripped with rage. "Is that what our Sheikh taught you?"

He glared at her for a minute, and she glared back. He sighed. "Come on."

A mountain-like hand stretched out of the earth in front of them. Caves upon caves dotted it like a bees’ nest. Slight golden light came out of each cave. Its red rocks reminded him of his home. The one he left to accompany his Sheikh on this long journey; The journey that was now on its deathbed.

"Yeah, but I am only following you because I want to save the Sheikh, not because you’re some kind of leader or Amir or something."

"Just keep your voice down."

She frowned and strode behind him. "Hey! You listen to me."

He grabbed her by the mouth, and they hid behind a rock wall. She bit his hand, and he cried. "Never touch me!" she said.

"Calm down, someone’s coming."

They waited there for a minute. "Oh, no one’s coming."

She walked out, but three bandits came out of a cave. Her eyes widened, and she ran back behind the wall. Haris smirked at him, and she crossed her arms and smudged. They spoke something, but he didn’t understand the dialect.

"How did you know they were coming?" she said as the bandits disappeared.

"I got very good at listening to the Sheikh’s footsteps."

"Yeah, he gets all cranky."

"‘Haris, why are you always busy wasting your time?’" he mimicked his old, cracky voice. They both laughed.

"I thought you were a good to shoe," she said.

"Yeah, you gotta have your fun when you can."

"Yeah. Well, we should, ah, follow them."

The caves wound into each other like a bunch of ropes knotted together. Whenever there was light, they had to stop for a few seconds to know where it was coming from. Sometimes they stumbled right into some guards, but Hinda’s potion put them to sleep. Sometimes Haris had to fight them, and the clangs of their scimitars echoed through the caves, but the other thousand echoes hid them. But nothing could hide his screams for his Sheikh. Only Hinda calmed him down and hid him as more guards came.

Finally, they reached a wide opening. It consisted of five stories. Hundreds of caves opened on each story. The light from the caves sparkled like fireflies. Women and children walked around like it was their home. The bandits walked with only daggers strapped to their hips. Their veils dangled to their sides, revealing their faces.

"You have a nerve, kidnapping a Hajj caravan."

"And you have the nerve to talk to me like that!" the leader said. He sat on his rock throne with an axe to his right.

"He dares talk to our Sheikh like that!" said Haris as he marched forward, but Hinda caught his hand.

"What are you doing? You wish death."

"What do you care?"

"Don't be stupid. I do care."

They went silent for two seconds, and then Hinda punched him in the stomach. "Who will I tease then, hollow brain?"

He smiled for a moment. "What do you want to do?"

"We need a plan. Like the one I used to scare your camel."

"Wait, you planned that?"

"Yeah, of course. I plan everything."

"Hmm…"

"What?"

"Well, I thought you were just very good at spontaneous decisions."

"And I thought you were a better judge of character."

His cheeks melted, and darkness fell over his face.

"I am sorry," she said. "What did I expect, teasing you for all these years, huh?"

"What’s the plan?"

Her eyes fell on the large cauldron in the centre of the cave. Its smoke flew out of the large hole in the roof.

"Take him away!" said the leader, and two guards grabbed the Sheikh's arms and dragged him away.

"Follow them, but wait for the guards to eat their meals."

"Why?"

She waved her vial. "Because they will be sleeping for a long time."

He nodded and walked forward, but she grabbed his hand. "Let them eat first. No matter what they do."

He frowned, but she frowned back. He sighed. "Sure."

Haris followed them through another maze of caves. In the end, they reached the dungeons. He followed their light until they stopped. They threw Sheikh into the prison, and Haris' chest pained as if they threw him. He grabbed his scimitar to cut them where they stood. I must wait.

The voices of women came from the dungeon’s entrance, and the smell of the salty cooked camel meat growled in his stomach. Ten minutes later, the clank of a fallen weapon rang his ears. He grinned from ear to ear and ran to the cell, but fell.

"Haris?" said Sheikh.

"Yes, it's me. How did you know?"

"No one is as clumsy as you."

"Figures."

Sheikh laughed, but his voice cracked and he sighed in pain.

"Shiekh, are you alright? Where are you?"

He followed the Sheikh's sighs of pain and his cracking voice to his cell. He broke open the door and lifted the Sheikh. They exited the dungeon, and a guard grabbed his leg. He pulled it away, and the growled, but sleep drained all his energy.

"Looks like Hinda didn’t work very well."

"What? Hinda? Here?"

"I, ah, will explain later."

He turned right, and Hinda cried from behind, "Haris!"

The bandit leader ran behind with an axe her size. He swung it, and she ducked. It hit the wall, and it cracked. She cried, and Haris winced. He sat Sheikh beside a wall and ran back.

He tackled the leader, and he fell. He pierced his scimitar through the leader’s right arm, and his scream echoed. His blood boiled, and his eyes became red with rage. How dare he touch my Sheikh? He punched and broke his nose. Who does he think he is? He punched again and again until his hands became red from swelling.

"Stop him, Hinda." Sheikh coughed. "Stop him."

She ran and smelled him her vial. Everything went blurry, and his head went heavy. She took a last glance at Hinda and then fell.

He got up in the cool of the night. Stars twinkled like diamonds above him. He sat, and Sheikh cooked something on the fire while Hinda sat beside him.

"I am sorry," she said.

"Thank you."

Then they both smiled.