R.B.R BARRETO
In the desert there are laws and customs that are not written, nor designated by any special authority.
The oasis ceased to be a paradise and comfort not only for the young gypsy girl. Hamad was also uncomfortable and felt strange pains in his stomach and soul. Thoughtfully, he walked away to a group of palm trees where he spread out his cloak and lay down, looking at the sky. Everyone knows that he men of the desert are savages. Unveiled and ownerless women belong to no one. They are easy prey because no one will claim them. That woman was in his hands. But he was a guardian of the desert and since he had seen her for the first time, still posing as a young man, he had felt a strange sensation that her soul resembled her. Something brought them together and it was not a mere feeling. From the beginning he had been struck by the strange coincidence with the name by which she had introduced herself in the form of a boy – Randú. A strange coincidence that now haunted his mind again and made him delve into the memory of a past that he thought was buried in the desert sands
The oldest lineages among the gypsies and the desert tribes had the custom of giving their children two names, one that is known to everyone and another that is revealed only to themselves when they reach a certain age, as well as to special people who participate in the ceremony. In general, these people are their parents, their future in-laws, the elders who give them the name, and the other partner of the opposite sex that fate has pointed out to them for a future marriage. This prematurely agreed marriage is an arrangement made to safeguard the tribes, ensuring the lineage and preserving ancestral customs. In the desert there are laws and customs that are not written, nor designated by any special authority. They are forged by the very conditions in which these people live, whose care for preservation was of utmost importance due to the constant attacks they suffered. These repeated events ended up dividing them and scattering across the four corners of the desert.
These laws and customs were passed down from generation to generation and consolidated them as a people and as a group. Hamad had undergone this secret name ceremony when he turned 12. He remembered that his fiancée was a beautiful black girl of about three or four years old, all adorned with veils and stones and with beautiful huge dark scared eyes. She had remained quiet while the elders gathered to bless and perform predictions for the young couple. He remembered looking away from the child, irritated by the idea of already having a promised wife for whom he would have to wait. The prayers, invocations and songs of the elders did not arouse his interest. They spoke things he did not understand. They made gestures, consulted wooden tablets covered with ancient drawings, scratched a parchment with various characters. Until suddenly one of them stood up, approached him, rolled up a parchment and waved it close to his face. He looked into his eyes and whispered in her ear:
– Randú...
Then, looking at the rest of the family, he shouted loudly:
– Randúuuu!!
It was a loud scream that scared the little future wife. The child began to cry loudly and was comforted by her mother, who calmed her down by keeping her quiet. The second elder, with another scroll, approached her to reveal the name.
– Cailin – he whispered in the child's ear
_ Cailinnn – he shouted to everyone present.
As soon as the name was revealed, the elders tied the scrolls together and placed them together in a box that was to be given to the two on the occasion of the wedding. Signs and omens of their future would be inscribed on it.
– Contemplate now your "soulmate" – said the elder making him approach the child. They looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds and then moved away.
It was very strange to have his destiny tied to someone so early. Even though he was a child himself, he wanted to prepare himself to be a warrior and not to be tied to someone else. However, his destiny and that of everyone in that tribe was about to change suddenly. Little did he know, when he left there, that he would no longer see the elders, the family of his fiancée, his parents, or even the scrolls of their destinies. Two days later, they were attacked by desert bandits who decimated a large part of the tribe, killing the elders and capturing the young men, women and children to be sold and enslaved. He lived among the bandits, as a slave, being dragged from one corner of the desert to the other for almost 18 moons. Until one day, when these bandits were attacked and defeated by a group of Tuaregs from another tribe, he was rescued and began to live among them, beginning his journey as a warrior. Guided by the chief Hamir, learned all the things he was supposed to learn. Over time, his memory erased his past and everything that had lived in it. His short time as a slave had taught him the harshest and cruelest side of the desert. He had lost his parents, his tribe, his secret name, his soul mate. And the scroll of his destiny it was buried along with the ruins of his tribe or destroyed.
Putting these memories aside, he thought again about the young woman who had caught his attention from the beginning, even when he still believed she was a boy. In addition to the coincidence of the name he also think that her aloof and elusive behavior, very curious. A look that sometimes reminded him of the frightened child of the past. He felt that there was something hidden behind that look. However, even so, he noticed the effort to overcome all fears and obstacles to care for and defend the young sheik, his adventure companion, he called "master". He always suspected that this dedicated attitude announced something more than gratitude. Now he was certain that the meeting between the two had not been a coincidence. There was some hidden intention in the girl's attitude. And he would find out. Sooner or later.
Day was almost dawning when Aisha, once again in Randú's skin, returned to her master's side. She entered the cave slowly, carefully, almost crawling on the ground. She had wrapped her face in her burnous to hide the damage caused by the tears she had shed copiously for hours. She feared meeting the Tuareg again and was very relieved to realize that he was not there.
Kadir was already awake and tried to move with little success.
— I need to bathe, - he complained, - I need to regain my strength, say my prayers... How can I serve Allah if I can't take care of myself?
— Stay calm, sir! Or you will hurt yourself even more... Who knows, maybe Allah has put me in your path, just to help you reach your destination? – and he added softly
– Whatever he may be...
– I believe that Allah protects the weak – continued Kadir, shaking his head in doubt – but he chooses the strong to follow him. Can't you see Balam? He is not weak. He does not depend on anyone...
– There is no strength without weakness, my young prince – the voice of the Tuareg who entered at that moment echoed loudly in the cave and made young Randú tremble, who almost let go of the rugs he had begun to roll up.
– There is no shame in depending on someone, as long as we know how to be grateful – he continued in a lower voice – Come with me, sir! While your friend prepares something for us to eat, I will take him to bathe.
Turning to Randú, he said:
— Come on, boy. The oasis is full of edible fruits and cacti. Gather some for our coffee and for the journey.
Then he helped Kadir stand up and led him outside. The young sheik could already move a little, but he probably wouldn't be able to get off the stretcher during the journey.
Aisha, huddled in her corner, waited for the two to leave and was still a little hesitant before following the Tuareg's instructions. Although he seemed natural and friendly, it could be that he intended to tell the young prince everything while he took him to the waterfall. She knew she was taking this risk but she had to face it.
The oasis really was very plentiful; in addition to "Tuna", a succulent cactus that helps travelers throughout the desert, she found dates, figs, apricots, and some vegetables. She could even make some soup, thought, if the weather and his new condition allowed. It was returning to the entrance of the cave with the food he had gathered, when the Tuareg came after her.
— Randú, - he called - come here - Before you leave, I need to show you something about the horses.
With bated breath, Randú deposited his load on the traveling rug and, in silence, accompanied the Tuareg to where the animals were waiting to move on.
Hamad went straight to the side of Taiff, the horse that until then had been passing for his mount. He waited for Randú to approach and showed him a mark stamped on the animal's flank.
— Look at this… this mark? Do you know that it can give you away? Who does this animal belong to?
Until then, the little gypsy had not yet noticed the tribal mark with which all the horses and animals belonging to the Grand Sheikh were marked. Even on herself, somewhere on her body, there must have been this mark, since slaves were also marked with it.
— Sir... I..., - she stammered, confused, - the horse belongs to....
Hamad interrupted her with an imperative gesture:
— Listen, girl. Don't waste your time lying. This mark is the same one I found on all the other animals. I conclude, therefore, that you belong to your master's tribe, or whatever this young man represents to you.
The young woman remained silent, her face turned to the ground.
— I just don't understand why you ran away from this tribe, stole a horse, risking being sentenced to death. Then, why the hell did you go to meet the only person who could be the first to condemn you? By Allah, girl, your master must be very naive to believe your story and not even suspect anything. Not everyone has a horse and goes alone through the desert.
– My master is not naive, sir ... and I did not steal from him. – the young gypsy responded courageously – I had no intention of running away, I just want to followed him... – she fell silent again, as if she were taking a breath and then continued – I followed him without him knowing, because if he had known he would not have let me come. That is why I lied. He is not naive, he is just a good man, a man of faith, who wants to become a saint and believes in Paradise. He sees no evil in anyone...
– Well, well, well --– – exclaimed the Tuareg with an ironic smile – so you follow him because you also want to be a "saint" and find Paradise?
The young woman did not know what to say in the face of ironic tone the tuareg used. But she felt it wasn't a threatening, on the contrary. It was an invitation to dialogue, although it was not easy to dialogue in those circumstances.
– I do not know what to think about this madness, girl. I want to protect her, but I don't know how to do it if you doesn't trust me.
He took a few steps forward, examining the mark on Taiff's back once more.
- Even if you try to hide it, - he continued, - he will eventually notice. And when did you intend to tell him everything? Do you think that even though he is a "saint," he will easily accept your lies?
Observing the silence and stubbornness on the girl's face, the Tuareg shook his head:
— By Allah, you love him, don't you?
Aisha did not answer, but looked up in fright.
— What do you know about love, girl? You are still too young. Love cannot be an excuse for all follies... anyway, - he continued incisively, - this young man is not destined to love you. You are wasting your time.
The young woman glared at him furiously:
—Sir, if you want to accuse me, do it now. But I don't have give you an explanation! You can't want to know my reasons or my destiny. Nor his... nor even yours.
He looked at her seriously, as if he were watching a child playing with fire.
— Calm down, naive girl. I am not threatening you or playing with anyone's destiny. I am simply offering you some advice, for free. It is not for me to tell your master anything. It's up to you. And you must do it soon, before any misfortune befalls you.
— Don't worry about me, sir. I will tell my master when the time comes. I insist, I didn't steal anything. I just followed him. He needs me, but he doesn't know how much.
Once again the Tuareg looked at her impatiently and threw his arms up as if handing over the course of this story to the invisible.
— You won't tell him anything. It´s clear. You know very well that he won't forgive you. Not for stealing one of his horses – he won't forgive you for putting at risk the whole purpose of your journey, to become a holy man. Even though you hide the fact that you are a woman, you threaten him with your dedication and closeness. You can steal his soul before you seduce his body.
Aisha felt the weight of the Tuareg's words. He was right, but he wouldn't be the one to tell her what to do. There was a risk that he would give her up, but for some reason, she trusted him. She realized, with some relief, that she had found an ally and was beginning to feel more comfortable in his presence.
After a few minutes of silence, in which their souls were deciding which paths they would take, the tuareg continued, speaking mostly to himself:
—Fate is truly a powerful force that traps us in its webs. We must not play with it. Three nights ago, I would never have imagined that the past would once again knock on the door of my tent. But, here it is...
—The past? - asked Aisha.
With an evasive gesture and a new smile on his lips, he looked deep into her dark eyes:
"Don't try to understand, gypsy... these are things that are still not clear even to me. I know that your story led you to follow behind your master without measuring the consequences, driven by a feeling that you do not know what it is. I insist," he repeated, looking deep into her eyes, "you do not know what it is. And I... I. only know that my story brought me here to find you. You think you must protect your master, whether he becomes a saint or not." As for me, perhaps my destiny is to protect you, princess of the desert, until you wake up from your sleep.
- I am a slave, sir, not a princess.
- Who knows, girl, who knows? What do you know about yourself? Who are your parents?
- Slaves don't have families, they are just slaves.
- And where did you get that name... Randú?
The young woman was confused. In fact, she didn't know how, but that name came from the depths of her memory. She couldn't answer.
- Couldn't it be the name of someone from your past? Someone from your family?
- All my family and everything I remember is there... the young gypsy responded brusquely, pointing to where Kadir was.
The stubbornness her ended up tiring Hamad, who made an irritated gesture, dismissing the young woman.
- So, whatever! Come on, girl!! See if your master is ready and rested. Time to continue on our journey...