The Colour of Heaven (10 page)

Paolo had never seen such a mouth.

‘Pull it back. Pull the head round,’ ordered Salek.

The camel squirmed.

‘Put your left foot on his foreleg. Hard.’

Paolo tentatively placed his foot on the camel’s reclined left foreleg.

‘Now swing your right leg over the pommel of the saddle.’ Salek mimed the action.

Paolo hesitated.

‘I will show you.’ Salek mounted his camel in three swift movements: hand on mouth, leg on foreleg, swing onto saddle. Then came the command to move forward.

‘Now, Paolo,’ Salek said. ‘Do as I have done.’

Paolo jumped up onto his camel. Its rear legs lurched up suddenly, first throwing him forward and then violently back.

‘Move with the animal,’ said Jacopo gravely. ‘Feel the rhythm.’

‘There is no rhythm!’ shouted Paolo. ‘It’s lurching.’

‘Let him know you,’ advised Salek. ‘Be calm. Everyone is nervous at first. But in three days you will be able to place your fingers in his nostrils, look him in the eye, and establish your authority.’

‘Walk on, walk on,’ Paolo commanded, nervously.

The animal turned, bit him in the leg, and began to advance.

Clearly the nostrils would have to wait.

On leaving Tabriz, Salek told Paolo they would travel southeast through Persia towards Rhages and then make their way across the north of the desert to Masshad. He rode at the head of the caravan. Behind him followed six camels laden with merchandise. Jacopo brought up the rear. Order was kept by a fine woollen string which flowed back along the line, threaded through each camel’s nose, and along each saddle, tied off on a large bell attached to the neck of the last animal. This produced a low even sound as they travelled, letting Salek know that all was in order. It gave rhythm to their progress as they walked up hills and trotted on the flat. Any change in the ringing of the bell necessitated an inspection, and Salek was adamant that their party keep as close together as possible.

They ate a mixture of ground barley and warm water, with dates when they could find them, and drank sweet tea. Salek taught Paolo how to eat slowly, letting both the food and the drink take effect between each mouthful so that the body had time to replenish itself. He must feel neither empty nor replete. A breaker of water should be sipped. Bread should be savoured. Their provisions were as important as their jewels.

Salek stopped only to check the animals, to smoke a pipe, and to pray. Jacopo made his devotions three times a day, insisting on the evening
Ma’ariv
, the morning
Shacharit
, and the afternoon
Mincha;
whereas Salek required five sets of prayers thanking Allah for survival each evening and asking for his blessing throughout each day.

‘The soul must be guarded,’ he told Paolo, ‘like a house from the rain.’

Because Salek prayed more often than Jacopo, Paolo noticed that the Jew would then fight back by deliberately praying for longer.

‘My help is from the Lord who made heaven and earth. Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee. Mark the innocent man and behold the upright; for the latter end of that man is peace. Trust in the Lord, and do good; dwell in the land and feed upon faithfulness.’

But Salek would not be outdone.

‘O Allah, I ask for your pardon and wellbeing in this life and in the hereafter
.

‘O Allah, cover my faults and soothe my fears
.

‘O Allah, protect me from before me and from behind me, and from my right and from my left, and from above me and from beneath me. I seek my refuge in you.’

As they travelled further, the journey seemed infinite; as if Paolo, Salek, and Jacopo had lost themselves in a dream without end. There were no landmarks to guide them, and each horizon only introduced another. At times it appeared there were no colours except those between pale gold and burnt sienna. The camels stalked forward, padding silently in ranks of ochre, fawn, sand, and caramel, bleached by the noon sun, darkened by night.

In the valleys they felt sharp stones underfoot, mixed with decaying camel bones and animal skulls, revealed by fresh winds that whipped across the sands only to cover them over once more. The only trees had denuded barks, and leaned to the south, permanently bent by the force of the wind. Paolo thought they looked like a row of old men waiting to die.

Before they made camp, Salek would check for the direction of any breeze, arranging goods, panniers, and equipment, always seeing to the animals first. The camels would feel for the softest ground, dropping onto their forelegs, and folding in their hind legs before craning out their necks and lowering their jaws. At last their eyes would close, as if this was not only the end of the day but the silence of their secrets. Their inscrutability would never be understood, for they were the only creatures to know the hundredth name of Allah.

Each night Paolo and Salek hobbled the animals, tying their knees with knotted ropes to prevent them escaping. Jacopo made small fires with twigs and camel dung and prepared what food they had, throwing rocks up into the palm trees to dislodge the dates. After they had eaten they washed their pans in the freezing sand, scraping off and burying the debris, and then lay down, as close as they could to the fires they had made, and tried to sleep, limbs exhausted, their knees and hips aching.

Seven days after they had left Rhages, the camels escaped.

Paolo woke early and immediately sensed that something was wrong. He circled the tent, hoping that he dreamed, wondering desperately how he could make time unravel and re-tie the animals, securing them ever more firmly.

But they were gone, and the sand had covered all sign of their tracks.

Paolo began to panic. He was lost in the middle of the desert, with little water and no animals. How long could they last? Two days, three? Would any other traveller find them? Salek had told him that the vastness of the desert made it easier to believe in God and the majesty of his creation; but now he felt only the terror of its emptiness. There was nothing in sight: no tree, no settlement, no people, no water, no animals, and no food.

He must set out and find the camels before the others woke, but which direction should he take? The heat haze of the early morning only made his sight even more blurred. As he stood thinking, uncertain which way to turn, his companions emerged from the tent.

‘Where are the animals?’ Salek cried. ‘What have you done?’

‘They have gone.’

‘Where? Did you see them?’

‘I awoke too late.’

Jacopo knew that he could not quarrel with the guide on whom his life depended, and so he turned his anger on Paolo. ‘Can you not tell where they have gone?’ His eyes squinted against the light. ‘But then I forget, you can’t see anything. Never trust a camel or a boy.’

‘It is not my fault,’ said Paolo. ‘I tied them well, as I have been taught. I looked hard at each knot.’

Jacopo began to search through the camel bags and provisions on the ground. ‘You don’t see anything as other men do.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘The truth is that we are lost and may die.’

‘We are not lost. I will find them,’ said Salek calmly. ‘You stay. I will walk. Let me take the boy.’

Paolo gathered cloth for shade and picked up two skins filled with water. Salek waited and then beckoned for him to follow. ‘We must find them before the sun is high; there is nowhere to rest from the heat.’

‘I will wait and pray,’ said Jacopo. ‘Perhaps I should make ready and atone.’

‘They have been gone only a few hours,’ said Salek. ‘There is no need to despair.’

They looked out at the vanishing infinity of sand.

‘How can we know where to start?’ asked Paolo.

‘The animals may have sensed water,’ Salek replied, ‘and so we should travel south, over those dunes.’

Paolo could not believe that his guide was sure.

‘This is our test,’ said Salek. ‘The desert forces us to find our courage and our faith. We must conserve our energy, keep water, and find shade where we can. Look for tracks or camel dung as we walk.’

The heat moved across the sands like a wave. If only it were the sea, Paolo thought, if only this sun could be its exact opposite, washing away the desperate dryness of the desert with the cool clarity of water.

They tried to keep a steady pace as they walked, fearful of slowing, and were accompanied by nothing but their own breath in the heat, their feet on the sand. They missed the slow rhythmic steps of the camels, and the reassuring sound of the bell.

It was a journey of heat and emptiness. Whenever Paolo looked towards the horizon and saw smudges of darkness in the distance, nestling between sand and sky, and cried out to Salek, the answer would always be the same: ‘Rocks, just rocks.’

Paolo tried not to despair, but as the day developed he began to drift, falling asleep in the heat, the light too bright for his eyes.

‘Shade them,’ said Salek. ‘Use more cloth. The desert is both sun and death. We cannot look at either directly.’

Paolo realised that this was why Salek’s clothes seemed always too large. He used the extra material for protection. ‘How can you ever tell where we are?’

‘It is my home.’

‘All this?’

‘Everything.’

It was as if they were the last men left on earth.

‘Why are you so calm?’ asked Paolo.

‘Because I know we will not come to harm. Allah protects us. Even if we die, then the worst becomes the best. We will know paradise.’

The mention of death made Paolo aware, for the first time in his life, that he might die far sooner than he had ever imagined, here in this heat, his task unfulfilled. His legs were heavy, his back ached, and his mouth was dry. He began to think that the only way he could stay alive would be to think of something else, to distract his mind. He would have to force Salek to speak, for this silence was impossible. Even though it would hurt their throats they must surely talk, telling stories to save their lives.

‘Speak to me of your home,’ Paolo asked. ‘Do you dream about it?’ He wanted to ask, ‘Where do you rest at the end of your travels?’ but recognised he would have to conserve energy, using as few words as possible.

‘I do not.’

‘You have no house?’ Paolo asked. ‘No family, no wife, no love?’

Salek continued walking. ‘I live the life of a traveller. And I had no choice.’

‘Why?’

‘Let us not discuss this.’ He spoke as if the conversation were over, but then, after walking a few more paces in the heat, too tired to conceal the truth, he suddenly confessed. ‘I lived in a village to the south, near the turquoise hills of Kerman. I killed a man. I had to leave.’

‘Why?’

‘He killed my father. I killed him. Then I left.’

This is not what I had imagined, thought Paolo. I am alone in the heat of the desert with a murderer. ‘Will you return?’ he asked.

‘One day, perhaps, when all the others are dead.’

Paolo wanted to ask about family, love, and children, but as he was about to speak, Salek forestalled him. ‘Please, no more questions. Silence is better.’

It was midday. The sun bleached the sand so vividly that Paolo imagined it was snow. He tried to concentrate on cold flat plains, white peaked mountains, and streams of water: anything to avoid the pain of such heat. ‘Why are we doing this?’ he asked. ‘Why can we not admit that we are less than the desert?’

‘Now you are learning humility,’ Salek replied. ‘Let us walk and be patient. If we cannot find the camels then we will die. But who is to say what is beyond each dune?’

‘I never want to see sand again in my life.’

‘Do not say such a thing. You will remember it always. A man who has seen such sights will never forget them. What kind of life would you have if you had seen none of this?’

‘A comfortable life.’

‘And a life not worth living,’ Salek answered, nearing the peak of the dune. He smiled and waited for Paolo to join him.

‘There.’

In the distance, Paolo could just make out the shapes of the animals under a solitary palm.

‘They have found water.’

As Salek approached, one of the camels turned to look at him with an expression of careless bemusement, as if wondering why they had taken so long to catch up and enjoy the well.

Looking at the animals, Paolo was uncertain which of his emotions was the stronger: relief at their discovery, or anger that they appeared so contemptuous.

Because the camels now began to moult, their backs chafing in the heat, Salek insisted that they reverse their routine, travelling by night and resting each morning. Paolo found sleep in the bright heat of the day almost impossible. He wrapped every part of his body against the sun, protecting himself from its rays with dark swathes of cotton, but still the light hurt his eyes. He could feel the temperature rise inexorably and then, just when he thought he could bear it no longer, evening would fall and it became cold so fast that he was suddenly freezing.