The Sleeper in the Sands (25 page)

‘You should know,’ he explained to me, ‘how we have always, in this village, hunted the treasures which lie buried hereabouts, for the pagans, in the folly of their superstition, stored silver, and rubies and gold, and fine pearls, and statues of idols made from all precious metals, deep within the ground. Yet of these treasures very few now remain, for we are but one of many generations, and each one in turn has hunted out the hidden tombs. Even so, there are still riches to be found, especially in the valley which lies beyond the hills, and of all the treasure-seekers the most celebrated, the most unerring in his sense of where a hidden tomb might be uncovered, was my own great-grandfather, Mohammed Girigar.

‘Here, then, is the story of his most splendid find. He was exploring the ravines of the valley one day when he discovered, by his feet, tiny chippings of stone. This excited him greatly, for such chippings are the infallible signs of a tomb. That very night he returned to the spot in great secrecy, bringing with him only his most trusted henchmen. He set them to labour, and it was not long before a work of jewellery was found, adorned with the image of a monstrous Jinni, such as the pagans were in the habit of worshipping as gods. If you wish to see what it looked like, here’ -- the Headman reached within his gown -- ‘inspect it yourself, for we have kept it in our family as a keepsake of that night.’

He handed it across to me. It was only small but lined with gold and very beautifully fashioned. ‘You will see,’ the Headman told me, ‘that the jinni has the body of a ravening lion and the head of a woman.’

‘There is such a monster,’ I answered him, ‘though male in sex, which lies on guard beside the Pyramids.’

The Headman nodded. ‘Then you will understand the excitement of my great-grandfather, for he knew that the image of such a creature could only presage hidden riches. He ordered his workmen to dig all the harder and soon, sure enough, they found a second wonder, an ancient corpse, with an expression of great horror still preserved upon its face and a hideous wound ripped out along its throat. This caused Mohammed’s workmen to murmur amongst themselves, and threaten to lay down their picks, for they claimed that such a thing was the certain mark of sorcery. Mohammed, though, ordered the corpse to be buried once again, and then gave each workman an extra piece of gold, which proved more than sufficient to overcome their fears. At last, shortly before daybreak, the doorway to a tomb was uncovered, and when Mohammed inspected it he gave a cry of thanks to Allah, for he could see how the seal upon the join was unbroken, and he knew that beyond it there lay wealth beyond his dreams.

‘And so indeed it proved, for once the door had been smashed open and Mohammed had forced a way along a passage filled with rubble, he suddenly heard the crashing of stones ahead of him into an open chamber and, calling for a torch, he caught the glint of gold. But as he leapt into the darkness, he was almost suffocated by a vast quantity of dust and a blast of loathsome air, so that Mohammed, experienced as he was in the exploration of tombs, shuddered and was almost persuaded to flee, for he had never smelt anything so vile and strange before. But then he thought again upon the glittering of gold, and so he stayed where he was and lifted up his torch.

‘At once he stood frozen in wonder and dread. Everywhere there were treasures - piled up to the roof, reaching back into the shadows of the chamber -- of a beauty and a splendour which lay beyond description. But it was not the sight of this wealth which had rendered

Mohammed motionless, but rather the presence in the chamber, seated upon a gilded throne and clutching a sceptre in his withered hand, of the body of a king. Or so at least Mohammed assumed it to be -- yet in truth it appeared more like a demon than a man. It wore a gown embroidered with gold and precious stones, so that its limbs could not be seen, but the skull beneath its crown appeared hideously shaped and its brow was deathly like that of a phantom. Mohammed crept forward to inspect the corpse more closely, but then, as he reached out to touch the jewels upon the robe, the eyes of the withered king suddenly opened. Mohammed sought to shrink back -- but he found himself motionless, caught within their glare, which blazed from between two narrow, almond-slanted slits. Long minutes passed; then haltingly, as though with an effort, the King spoke a few words in a harsh, unknown tongue. But Mohammed could not answer him, and the face of the King grew suddenly dark and he raised his sceptre with a strange, painful motion. He touched Mohammed with its tip upon the forehead - and it was at that point that my great-grandfather fainted from fear.

‘When he awoke, he was alone. He clambered back out through the passageway, and found that the valley was deserted as well; for his men, imagining their master dead when he had not re-emerged, had fled the tomb entrance. It was clear that they had seen nothing of the King with the phantom brow, and so Mohammed chose not to make mention of his strange experience. Nevertheless, it appeared that the tomb still inspired a universal fear, for despite the gold he could now afford to pay, Mohammed found it hard to persuade anyone to enter the chamber and it was only with difficulty that he could clear it out at all. Some ornaments, it is said, were left scattered on the floor; nor has anyone sought to retrieve them since that day.

‘For once the bulk of the treasures had been taken from the tomb, not even Mohammed was willing to return to it; and indeed, he kept away from the valley altogether. Instead he lived with his family as prudently as he could, spending the fortune which the Great Giver had sent to him, and being careful always to hand out alms to the poor. Yet it was noted, all the same, how his expression seemed haunted by some hidden dread, and how at night, when the shadows would flicker with the fire, he would start from them and shrink, as though afraid that they might shelter some darkness-bred demon. It was only on his death-bed, however, that he revealed the secret of what he had discovered in the tomb. Those who heard him, though, assumed he had grown mad, and certainly very few believed his tale of a King.

‘But then, some years after my great-grandfather had been laid to rest in his grave, strange figures began to be glimpsed in the valley, phantoms risen, so it seemed, upon the coming of each twilight, haunting the burial-grounds of the pagan Kings. Some began to whisper of a race of ghools, bred, may Allah save us, from the darkness of the unclean practices of the ancients, while others recalled what my great-grandfather claimed to have seen -- a Pharaoh, undead, and with the form of a ghool. A few still chose to scoff at the reports, and continue to search the valley for fresh tombs, but then it happened in due time that one of them failed to return. When the corpse was found at last, there could no longer be any room for doubt or dispute, for the mark of the
udar
is as certain as it is vile. And may Allah, whose grace and mercy are infinite, have mercy upon the soul of that poor man, and upon all those who have suffered a similar fate.’

At this point the Headman paused, and I saw the silver of tears line his eyes, and I knew that he was thinking on his murdered son. The merchant and I together sought to comfort him, but when he was recovered I pressed him further, for I was interested to know why, in view of the great danger, he and his neighbours had never thought to leave their village. But the Headman only frowned. ‘Would you have us taste the bitter bread of exile,’ he demanded, ‘and abandon the earth where our forefathers lie?’ And as he said this, he began to weep once again, and to mutter prayers and to tear at his white beard.

‘Nevertheless,’ I answered him, ‘you must still leave, you and your women, and all your children, for I shall be leading every able-bodied man with me tomorrow into the valley, where I shall seek to extirpate the curse of the
udar!

The Headman gazed at me in horror. ‘Would you seek to disturb a nest of hornets?’ he cried. ‘Such a course of action will surely send the
udar
swarming to destroy us!’

‘Yes,’ I answered him, ‘but so will waiting here in your village, doing nothing, allowing your people to be picked off one by one. It is better to die with one’s sword in one’s hand than to endure such a fate. But do not think, O Headman, that our cause is without hope, for Allah is all-seeing and knows best what lies hidden. I have shown you already tonight what you said was impossible -- how these ghools may be slain.’

But still the Headman gazed at me doubtfully. ‘You must slay them all, then,’ he muttered, ‘while the sun is bright in the sky, for by the light of the moon they will surely overwhelm us.’

‘That is why,’ I answered him, ‘I would have you leave this village - not far, but only to the temple on the far side of the river.’

‘The temple?’ The Headman seemed to shrink even more.

Whatever its mysteries,’ I answered, taking him by the arm, ‘it will certainly be easier to defend than this place.’

And so saying, I led him from the house out to the very boundary of the village, from where we could glimpse in the shadows the burning of bright eyes.

‘Is it not as I told you before?’ the merchant muttered. ‘Like a pack of hungry jackals they watch us -- and they wait.’

‘For how much longer, though,’ I whispered, ‘will they be willing to wait, when their power and their numbers are surely growing all the time?’

The Headman glanced up at me, then round at the village, before turning back to gaze at the darkness of the sands. ‘Let it be done as you advise,’ he nodded at length. ‘And may Allah watch and guide you in everything you do.’

But at this point in his tale, Haroun saw the approach of morning and fell silent.

‘Why do you not continue?’ the Caliph demanded.

‘O Prince of the Faithful,’ Haroun replied, ‘I am still weary from my many adventures. But if you would care to return here tomorrow evening, then I shall continue my tale, and relate to you what occurred to me in the valley of the
udar.’

And so the Caliph did as Haroun suggested; and the following evening he returned to the mosque. And Haroun said:

As soon as the first light of dawn had touched the sky to the east, everything was done as had been agreed the night before. The Headman led the women and the children and the infirm, and they crossed the Nile to where the great temple stood, and they sought to raise a fortification between the line of the pillars. The able-bodied men, however, I led myself, not towards the Nile but on the opposite route, along the path which wound towards the valley of the ghools.

To enter this valley, O Prince, one must first pass between two mighty walls of rock, silent and heavy with clouds of white dust. Nothing grows there; only shoals of black pebbles intrude upon the gleam; high above the mounds of boulders and rubble, the cliffs appear formed as though from packed dust. It was in this same ravine that I had feared we might be ambushed by the ghools -- and yet we entered the valley without any alarm, and I offered up a prayer of thanks to the All-High. Even so, as I gazed about me at that haunted place of burning rock and sand, where no shade is to be found, no relief from the heat, still I felt a shadow perched upon my shoulder, gazing at my delight in all the sweet things of life;, for I knew that I had come to where lean Death has his home. But then I thought upon Allah, and how He alone understands the purpose of our destiny, and I prayed to Him to keep me from the shadow of Death’s wings.

That I might help myself in such a cause, I ordered the villagers to set to work at once, entering the opened tombs, for it was there that I thought the ghools might be surprised. And so indeed it proved, for in many of the chambers, sheltered by the darkness, the
udar
could be found amidst the bodies of the dead, which would often he piled in untidy heaps as high as the roof. And when I inspected these bodies, I was struck dumb with doubt and wonder, for I remembered at once where I had seen such bodies before -- piled within the temple of Lilatt-ah, in the sanctuary where the idol of the demoness had stood.

For a long while I stood motionless, and it was fortunate indeed that there were others there beside me. It was fortunate also that the ghools appeared confused by the sudden influx of our torches, and enfeebled by their brightness, for they would flutter their limbs rather as moths, when confronted by a lamp, will beat and flap their wings. It was an easy matter, then, to dispose of these creatures, weakened as they were and surprised by our intrusion - and yet the horrors of our business were very great indeed. For the blackness of the walls, the choking dust and the withered faces of the ancient dead, blank behind their wrappings but perfectly preserved, combined to unsettle us profoundly; and as the hours began to pass, so our fears grew all the more. Long before the twilight, we could observe how the strength of the
udar
was reviving, and so I ordered the villagers, while the sun was still high, to leave the valley and cross over the Nile.

I remained with a few of the bravest men, and together we sought out one particular tomb, for I wished to inspect, before the onset of darkness, the chamber from which the undead king had been released. I had been dreading to enter that place of darkest magic, yet the tomb itself proved to be wholly abandoned, with only a few scattered treasures still left upon the floor, just as the Headman had claimed that there would be. There was a coffin as well, placed against the wall, with a well-preserved corpse wrapped in linings inside. It did not appear ever to have been a ghool, yet the portrait on the coffin was clearly of an
udar,
and for a moment I stood puzzled by this mystery. But I did not have the time to consider it for long, and so I ordered the face on the coffin to be destroyed, along with certain talismans which I had found upon the walls, carved within oval circles, and which I assumed to have been the spells of the ancient sorcerers. There was also, half-filling the chamber, a structure somewhat like a giant tent but built of wood and covered with gold, and this I ordered to be broken apart and employed to block off the passageway. While this work was being carried out, I drew out from beneath my cloak the talisman which Mohammed Girigar had found, and which I had persuaded his great-grandson to hand over to me. I then buried it very deep, so that no one would ever uncover it again, and ordered the doorway of the tomb to be sealed. In this way, O Prince of the Faithful, I hoped that its memory would be eternally forgotten -- and so indeed I hope to this day, for there are secrets which lie buried and should never be disturbed.