The Sleeper in the Sands (21 page)

With such a rich supply of merchandise, therefore, I soon began to find myself blessed by great wealth. Yet at length, such was the demand that the supply in the village began to be exhausted, and the villagers, when I pressed them to search out more, claimed that the danger from the
udar
was become too great. I raised my price, but still they refused. They told me that the
udar
were now infesting all the tombs, and that it was becoming unsafe to search them even in the day.

At length, such was my sense of frustration that I resolved to visit the valley myself. I rode up the pathway which led towards its entrance, but alas, even before I had reached it, I was to pay the price for my greed and stupidity! I felt a sudden blow against the back of my head, and then the sky seemed to spin and I tumbled like a sack of coals from my horse. The next thing I knew, I could feel hands about my throat, and a stench of rottenness was thick all about me. A sudden sharp pain was slashed across my chest and I screamed, for I could feel damp lips sucking on the wound. Yet that was not the worst, for I was thinking of the corpse of the peasant I had seen, whose stomach had been bloated by burrowing, hungry worms; and as I did so, I screamed once again and consigned my soul to the love of Jesus Christ, for I was certain now that I was doomed to die. Upon this wave of terror my thoughts began to cloud.

It was then, however, even as I imagined that I was sinking into death, that I dreamed a strange dream. I saw before me the vision of a girl, standing in the shadows of a mighty temple. Then I heard a voice which told me to present her, O Haroun al-Vakhel, to you, so that by her you might at last have a child. And then I was granted a vision of this room where we are all standing together now, and I was told that in return for my gift of the girl to you, O Master, you would be able to heal me of my sickness. And when I awoke, it was to find that I was indeed exceedingly ill, pale and weak, with this wound across my chest. I ordered a litter to be made for me, and then I crossed the Nile, for I knew there was a temple of stupendous size situated on the eastern bank, very similar to the one which I had witnessed in my dream. And sure enough, as I walked through the ruins, I discovered at their furthermost point this girl you see here now. I pressed her to tell me from where she had come, and what her name might be, but she would not reply -- nor has she spoken a word since that day. The only thing of which I am certain is that her face was the face of the girl in my dream. So, to be sure, it is a great mystery -- but God alone can know everything!

At this the Christian fell silent, and Haroun shook his head in puzzlement. ‘That is indeed,’ he exclaimed, ‘an extraordinary tale, but I still fail to see how I may heal you of your wound. Perhaps it would be best if you were to summon the girl so that I may discover if she is willing to say anything to me.’

The Christian did as Haroun had suggested, and the girl was brought up to the room. As she entered through the door Haroun felt his love for her blaze up again, for her body was as fair as the purest silver, and her eyes as profound as the fathoms of the ocean. But although she noticed his presence, she showed Haroun no veneration, nor spoke a single word, only flaring her delicate nostrils very slightly as though she had caught a scent upon the air. Then she stared at him more closely, and reached out to touch his cloak. Haroun unfastened it and passed it to her. She smelt it once again, then held it to the sun, and as she did so Haroun observed that the fabric was stained with several patches, black but touched by thin filaments of light. He frowned, wondering what the stains could be -- and then suddenly he remembered, and raised a prayer of thanks to Allah.

For the cloak, he realised, was the oldest one he had, which he had worn on the day of the assault upon Lilatt-ah. He remembered the liquid which the priest had been heating in the very depths of the hellish temple, and how, when toppled, it had splashed and stained his cloak. ‘Doubtless,’ Haroun told himself, ‘it was infected by some sorcery, but if it will serve to keep two people alive, then Allah in His wisdom will surely forgive me the sin.’ And so saying, he tore away the patches from the fabric of his cloak and ordered them boiled, then shredded and made into a paste. When all was ready, he took the medicine and applied it to the wounds, which closed at once and began to heal. Both the Christian and the young boy felt their strength returning, and they fell upon their saviour with thanks and tears of joy.

But even as they were hailing him as the Prince of all Physicians, Haroun himself still felt puzzled and bemused. He glanced towards the slave girl, hoping that she might speak at last, but though she met his stare her ruby lips stayed closed. For the briefest moment, Haroun felt a shadow of unease pass across his thoughts, but then he looked at her again and felt his love for her renewed. ‘Glory be to Allah,’ he whispered to himself, ‘who has the power to fashion such a creature. Something so lovely can only be good.’

Then he led her to his home with all due honour and attention. But the slave girl kept silent, and still said not a word.

Once Haroun had brought the slave girl back to his house, he sought to take care of her as well as he could. He went to a secret chest where he had kept all that remained of his former wealth, and then, going to the market, he hired servants, and bought clothes and delicious food and drink. The attendants bathed and adorned the girl, so that she was dressed in a way that was worthy of her beauty; and when Haroun saw her in her jewellery and fine clothes, and smelt the delicate perfume on her limbs and rounded breasts, he thought to himself how not even the Seven Heavens could rival her for splendour. Then he embraced her very tenderly and led her to a couch, where he ordered the servants to bring them the food. When they had done so, he dismissed them from his presence, and he fed the slave girl like a servant himself. But she, while she ate, kept her head bowed low, and still she kept silent nor even looked at Haroun.

And so it continued for the length of a year. To Haroun all this time seemed a single day, for he found himself ever more in love with the girl, nor had he ever known such passion before. Yet still he treated her with every tenderness, as though she were a blessing sent to him from Heaven, not to be touched and taken by force but cherished like a flame that might otherwise be snuffed out. She, though, remained as silent as ever through all these months; nor, when darkness fell, would she even stay beside Haroun, but would gaze from a window at the stars of the night, for it appeared that the sight of them could never weary her.

Then it happened one evening that Haroun discovered her standing on the roof of his house, staring across the city towards the western desert, where the moonlight fell silver on the ripples of the sand. So lovely did she seem, and yet so touched by regret, that Haroun thought his heart would break for love. ‘O my heart’s desire,’ he cried, ‘you are dearer to me than my very life! If you will never love me in return, then let me know, so that I may at least give up hope. Otherwise, my lady, speak to me, for I would surrender my very chance of Paradise for you!’

And when the girl heard this, she smiled suddenly and turned to Haroun, stroking his cheeks with her slender fingers, before kissing him softly. Then she led him to his room, and tended him gently as she made him lie down on his bed. There she did what no woman had ever done before, and laid herself upon him, but Haroun did not complain, nor seek to alter his position; for even as she ministered to him, he felt himself lost in a flame of rapture such as the Faithful are promised shall be theirs after death. And then, when all was done and she had anointed the length of his body with her kisses, she gazed into his face and smiled once again.

‘O most kind and generous of men,’ she said, ‘may you be granted long life and your every wish.’

Haroun gazed up at her in wonder, for her voice was as enchanting as the beauty of her face, and yet he knew that he had heard it once before within his dream. ‘O my heart’s delight,’ he asked her, ‘tell me what you are, and where you come from, for you seem like a miracle sent to me from Heaven.’

‘O my lord,’ she answered, rising from his bed, ‘I will tell you who I am. My name is Leila, and I am the princess of a strange and distant land.’ She crossed to the window, where she pointed to the stars. ‘Once I dwelt upon the breath of the air, for my people, you should know, rule the wide realm of the skies.’

‘That is a great wonder!’ exclaimed Haroun, as he crossed to join her and gazed up at the stars. ‘But how is it possible for your people to live there without plunging to their deaths?’

‘O my master,’ she answered, ‘we can live in the sky just as you can live on land. All things are possible to those who know how.’

‘Truly,’ Haroun mused, ‘the greatness and power of Allah have no limits! But why did you not tell me this immediately? For you know how I have loved you, and yet for a year you did not speak.’

At this a single tear welled and hung upon her lashes. ‘Forgive me,’ she answered, brushing it away, ‘but I am a slave and an exile in a foreign land.’

Haroun embraced her, and kissed her on the brow. ‘You are not a slave, but the mistress of this house.’

She smiled as he said this, and reached up to kiss him. ‘Do you think I would have stayed here a single hour,’ she asked, ‘if you had failed to care for me with such tenderness and love? And now, O best of men, you have been granted your reward, for you should know that since this evening I have been carrying your child.’

‘O my lady, O my love,’ cried Haroun in joy, ‘let Allah be praised! For now I see how my dream spoke the truth, granting me a blessing which I had never thought to see.’ But then he paused, and reached to take Leila by her hand. ‘But how can I know, if you come from the stars, that you will not attempt to return there again?’

Leila smiled sadly. ‘I have strayed so far from the realms of my own people that I doubt I will ever be able to return.’

‘Then you will remain in my house, and live as my wife?’

She turned to meet his stare. For a moment Haroun felt a shiver of dread, for the blackness of Leila’s eyes seemed suddenly very cold, inky like the night-time skies from which she came. ‘Upon a single condition,’ she whispered at last.

‘To say it is to command me.’

Still the depths of her stare remained like ice, until her ruby lips curved into a slow and tender smile. ‘That you continue to love me more than all the world.’

He laughed. ‘That is an easy enough condition, then!’

But even as he said this, and reached to embrace her, she pressed herself against him and clasped him by his cheeks. ‘Swear it,’ she hissed. ‘For I tell you again -- should you ever love anything more than you love me, then at that same moment, O my husband, I will leave.’

So tightly she gripped him that Haroun felt a sudden spurt of blood from the gouging of her nails. For a moment the pain discomforted him, and he thought to himself what a mystery it was, that a girl so silent for the length of a year should now seem so violent and urgent in her passions. But then he gazed into her face again, and at once all his doubts and hesitations died away, and he raised a silent prayer of thanks for such a blessing. ‘I swear it,’ he whispered, ‘I will always love you. For now’ -- he kissed her -- ‘for now, and evermore.’

So it was that Haroun lived with Leila, his beloved, in great contentment, and when nine months were past he became the father of a child, a little girl; and he gave to his daughter the name of Haidee. And from the first day of her life she was full of joy and grace, and Haroun, who had despaired of ever becoming a father, welcomed her just as a man lost in the desert, watching the vultures start to gather above his head, might welcome his first, unexpected glimpse of water - for there is nothing more precious than a blessing unforeseen.

So several years passed, and Haidee grew in beauty and charm, and she became ever more the jewel at the heart of Haroun’s life. He thought that his happiness would be without end -- for even as his joy in Haidee grew, so also did the pleasure that he took in his wife. Leila’s freshness, unlike that of the rose, seemed immune to the tide and the passage of the seasons; so much so that at last Haroun, baffled by the mystery, asked her to explain her enduring bloom. But she smiled and shook her head, and would only answer, with a glance towards the stars, how there might be islands even in the ceaseless flow of time. When Haroun tried to press her, however, she grew silent and would say nothing more; and he noticed, from that time on, how she withdrew herself from him. Her stare grew colder too, and he would sometimes observe, as he sat with their child, that she would be watching him from a distance - her eyes half-hooded, but sparkling bright like jewels. At other times she would vanish altogether, and Haroun would find her at length as he had often done before, during the year when she had spoken not a word, standing upon a balcony and gazing out into the night.

Then it happened one evening, when Leila had been absent for a couple of days, that Haroun was called to his neighbour’s house where a servant had fallen sick with an unknown disease. Haroun was not surprised to hear this, for Cairo at the time was vile with the stench and heat of summer. The southern winds were blowing sand through the streets, maddening the dogs and drying the filth into poisonous dust, and Haroun knew all too well how strange pestilences, bred upon the sleepless, burning air, could spread across the city with the deadliest of ease. But the moment he arrived at his neighbour’s house and was shown where the invalid lay delirious and pale, Haroun knew that he had seen the illness once before. He knelt beside the servant and pulled back a sheet. Across the man’s sweating chest there stretched a still-bleeding scar.

Haroun did his best to ease the wretch’s suffering, but he knew that he had nothing which would serve as an antidote. He did not stay long, and when he returned home he sought out his wife. He found her in her private quarters, rocking a sleeping Haidee in her arms.

‘What was the secret,’ he asked her, ‘of the potion I prepared on that first day when I met you?’