R.B.R.BARRETO
There are many secrets that cannot be revealed. Especially those that concern the heart.
A few days later, Kadir was strong enough to continue his journey. He paid for some provisions, said goodbye to his new friends and left accompanied by Hamad and Randú who insisted on going with him. He would have preferred to go alone, but the desert had taught him that extreme solitude can cost him his life and even more so his dream. He had to admit that he was not a fearless warrior, much less a Saint protected by Allah, like Balam. Therefore, he needed the protection of the tuareg and the services of Randú. The caravan of foreigners would follow more or less the same route, but they would stop at specific locations to carry out their exploration routines for the geographic magazine. In this way, they would always be a little behind one or two days away. In any case, this relative proximity gave them extra comfort in case of any eventuality. Kadir had obtained from the foreigners a copy of one of the maps of the region. Although he was not familiar with reading paper maps, he spent hours trying to decipher the image and mark the points he could locate. After traveling for two whole days in the open air, under the scorching sun and freezing nights, the young man announced:
—From what I can see, there is a temple or building close to where we are.
—Yes,—Hamad confirmed, — it is another of the places where dervishes and other pilgrims usually spend the night. These places are only known to pilgrims and caravanners. They usually leave fire, water and food for those who come next.
"What a relief to be able to rest!" thought Aisha. She was at the end of her tether. At the foreigners' camp, she had once again had tea to stop her menstrual period, but it was causing her great discomfort. She wanted to be able to bathe, stretch her legs and let her hair down.
Thank God it was still daylight when they arrived at the place. If there had not been a minimum of light, they would not have been able to make out the ruins of the temple in the middle of the dunes. The passage was deliberately covered in sand. Only a small obelisk or perhaps a minaret in the shape of a cylinder attached to a chain marked the entrance portal. The spiral staircase, decorated with curious tiles, led them to a huge hall, also decorated with iconic paintings and exuberant colors. It was impressive how that the entire building was preserved under the sands of the desert. Hamad lit the torches and they could see that it was a mosque, equipped with prayer rugs, sacred books and texts, grains, flour and water for purification. Kadir hurriedly went to one of the ablution posts, washed his feet, hands, arms and face and threw himself on one of the rugs to pray to God. For some time he had not been praying properly, according to the rites he had learned. He was tired, but grateful. He would rest and, who knows, in some of those texts he would not find clues about the whereabouts of the mountain of Káf? Something about paradise and its inhabitants?
On the walls of the room where they gathered for the meal were intriguing paintings in exuberant and suggestive colors. In one of them was a bird that theyoung man quickly associated with the Simorgh, the enchanted bird that Hamad had told him about. It was perched in a tree at the foot of an enormous snow-crowned mountain. Its colorful tail stretched to the ground.
—Look,— Kadir exclaimed, —the Mountain of Káf... and he stood up to examine it closely.
The painting had suffered the wear and tear of time. It was peeling and there were some erased characters that revealed a language that was practically unknown to him.
— Hamad, are you sure you've never seen this mountain around? And this bird? Is it the Simorgh?
Hamad went to him in front of the painting with greater curiosity than usual:
- I've seen many mountains... it could be any of them. Now, this bird... very curious. Yes... it really does look like the Simorgh. Look how gigantic it is!
- My grandfather told me many stories, but none about this bird. Could it be an inhabitant of paradise?
– Yes, this is Simorgh – said a voice behind them.
They turned in surprise and came face to face with an old sheikh, with a pleasant appearance, followed by a group of two more men and three women wrapped in black burkas embroidered with golden frisson.
– Salam Aleikum! – exclaimed Hamad and Kadir as they bowed deeply, as they realized that this was an important person.
– Aleikum Salam! – replied the man, approaching the engravings. – Feel free, my young people. Yes, here he is, the sacred bird. Who is looking for him? And what do you want to know? – he continued to scrutinize the two with a meticulous look.
– It is me, Kadir Abn Kaleb! – I come from the tribes of the West. I am looking for Balam, the pilgrim, and I wish to reach the Mountain of Káf.
– Well, well... your wish is not small. – commented the man as he examined the young man attentively. So you are a disciple of Balam?
— No, no, not yet... I wish I could and I would love to, but he disappeared before I could make that proposal to you.
— Ah... that crazy old man - the man said with a laugh - certainly didn't disappear. He's around out there hiding in the sands. He's an old man full of tricks. But let me introduce myself. I am Sheikh Sayad Abdul. Like your friend, I also practice the dance of the universe. I dedicate myself to the art of healing and to passing on these teachings. These are my companions on this journey, the dervishes and the hakim who honor me by sharing their knowledge with me.
After greetings and salutations, the old man continued:
— And what do you know about the Simorgh? Why do you think it has a connection with the mountain of Káf?
Kadir looked again at the painting of the bird, hoping to find an answer.
— In truth, I know very little, sir. I think I crossed paths with him on the first night of my departure. It was so quick, I couldn't be sure. I had never heard of its existence. Not even in my grandfather's stories – and turning his gaze to Hamad, he continued – It was here, my friend from the desert, who first told me about it.
The old sheikh's gaze quickly fell on the tuareg:
– Hmm! A guardian of the desert must know what he is saying – and then with a deeper look that disturbed Hamad, he continued – but he must also know not to say what should never be said.
The tuareg stood up with an expression of wounded pride and replied:
– I am a warrior of my tribe on a mission to guide people through the desert. Everything I have learned is about how to survive it and respect it. As for the mysteries and secrets, I find them during my journeys. They present themselves in my path and whisper in my ears. I have never been asked for secret. All I do is answer what I know to those who ask me.
The sheikh smiled and continued:
– Rest assured, my young warrior. I am not testing you. As I said before, every guardian knows what he is talking about.
Turning back to Kadir, he continued:
– In any case, young prince, making contact with the mystery of the Simorgh is a great gift. Sooner or later you will have to live up to it. Show yourselves worthy of this encounter, leave something behind or make a great choice.
Kadir felt touched by these words.
– Well – in a way I left a lot behind. I abandoned my tribe, my grandfather, my heritage and position...
– However, young man, be careful with illusions. Why do you think everything refers to you? Look... you are not alone. Have you ever thought about how many are part of this same journey, even though you do not realize it? Including your family, your grandfather...
Kadir really did not understand what the old man meant. But the mention of his grandfather made sense. If only old Abdul were there with him. It was the only thing he truly felt he had left behind. Then he spoke as if to himself:
— Oh, my grandfather!! I'm sure he would have liked to come and how I wish he were with me...
– But he is with you. He is part of your journey, just like me, Balam himself and his fellow travelers. Have you thought about that?
No... Kadir had not thought about that. Apart from his grandfather and Balam, the others were just chance encounters, common to desert travelers.
– Have you thought that this journey might not be yours? I mean... it might not be "your journey", but "the journey"?
Kadir had never thought about anything other than his own goal and interests. In that regard, he was quite selfish. He wanted to find Balam, learn from him and follow in his footsteps. Reach paradise, on Mount Káf and camp as long as it took beside its gates. He wanted to be worthy of passing through its gates as a holy man. To know its mysteries, to meet the sacred bird once more. What would others have to do with it? Each had his own goal, he was sure of that. He looked at the old sheikh with a shy smile and replied:
— I know I may be dreaming of something very big, but not impossible, since there are many stories about others who achieved this goal before me. I don't expect anyone to follow me in this madness. Everyone has their own goal and dreams, I'm sure of that. And I ask for nothing more than information and good advice.
The old dervish smiled complacently and continued:
— That's right, young man. But I assure you, in the end everyone has the same goal, just at different times.
While the men talked, Aisha, resisting under its guise as Randu disguise, tried in vain to eat something and stay standing. She couldn't even move to sit down or approach the group and noticed that there were more figures in the room besides her two companions. However she couldn't make them out. The fever was burning her insides. She had been feeling very bad since last night. Body aches and chills. Suddenly his head spun more intensely, his eyes became completely cloudy and the voices went silent, leaving only a huge buzzing in his ears. Before knew it, she was on the ground, unconscious.
Randu's fall caused a certain commotion among those present. Hamad ran to help his unconscious companion, whom he easily lifted in his arms. The Dervish took the lead, showing the way while signaling to the women who accompanied him. He led them to another room equipped with beds and first aid supplies.
—Leave him there with the women,— he said to Kadir who followed them with a frightened look.
—What could have happened to the young pilgrim?— he asked worriedly. — He's been following us all this time without complaining about anything...
Hamad seemed not to be very sure about leaving the young man alone in the hands of those strange people and made a move to stay in the room. But the women took the lead, gesturing for them to move away. Their dark, loose clothing covered the passage between them and the unconscious young man like thick curtains.
—Come, come— the old sheikh repeated, — don't worry. Our sisters know what to do. They are trained in the healing arts and desert medicine.
They returned to the dining room where the sheikh's servants had prepared a tea with a strong, sweet aroma.
— Please, come with me, friends. This tea will give us a good night's sleep. We all need to relax and gain strength.
There was a certain trust among the men of the desert. This feeling that they were all in the same boat, facing the same conditions, allowed them to share, without fear or selfishness, the food and shelter they found along the way. Leaving there, each one would take a different destiny. But there, in that time and place of meeting, everyone was experienced a feeling of unity and brotherhood. Without knowing whether it was because of this feeling or because of the tea he had drunk, Kadir felt a strange lightness that almost made him float. He never knew how got to the bed where he spent that night, but it was the best night that had spent among so many others for a long time.
He woke up with the sun shining on her face through a crack in the ceiling window. One of the women in the burqa was standing next to him and said:
— Your servant is already much better, sir. She will be completely recovered in a few hours.
Kadir stood up, still dazed. Had he heard correctly? He realized that the women were leaving. So he got up as quickly as he could to follow them to the room where Randú was. He sighed with relief. The young man seemed to be sleeping peacefully and was not as pale as he had been the night before.
—Ahhh,— he exclaimed, — this is our companion who fell ill last night. I have no servant girl. In fact, I have no servants…
— Well, sir, I do not know what relationship you have with this young woman. But I can say for sure that she is woman and not a man. Now, if you will excuse us, we are leaving. We must follow our master. Keep giving her this drink— and pointed to an herbal infusion in a jar next to the bed, — the young woman will soon be free of his ailments! Salam Aleikum!
Kadir couldn't believe what was hearing. He remained frozen in place, pale and with an altered expression.
—Aleikum Salam!— he answered almost automatically.
As the women left in silence, his gaze fell on his sleeping companion with a mixture of disbelief and revolt. He barely noticed that Hamad had entered the room some time ago and was silently waiting for some reaction.
—Did you hear that, Hamad?— he asked after a few minutes in a voice that betrayed all his astonishment. — Randú is not Randú? It is a girl whose name we don't even know?
— Aisha,— the tuareg added, — her name is Aisha.
His gaze fell on the tuareg, showing even more surprise and indignation:
— Did you know? Since when? By Allah?? So I'm the only one who's been deceived all along?
Noticing that the young man's anger was growing as he became aware of the reality, Hamad began to explain carefully, trying to spare the young woman who still seemed to be asleep.
— I found out by chance, Sir. I didn't tell you because it didn't concern me. I imagine the young woman had a good reason for having disguised herself up to this point.
The tuareg narrated without much detail how he had discovered the girl's secret in the shelter where they had spent the night, when he, Kadir, was still recovering from the injuries he had sustained during the sandstorm. He said he had been suspicious of the horse, marked with someone else's insignia.
— And what about this?? A thief...,— he interrupted, — imagine if we were followed by the animal's owner.
— Sir, there's no risk in that regard. The horse belongs to you. It has your name. The mark of your tribe.
— But... how?— Kadir seemed increasingly astonished.
The young prince had a hard time understanding or admitting that the girl was from his own tribe. Probably a servant. And what was she doing there? If she was a runaway slave, a horse thief, why did she insist on traveling with him? Why didn't she escape before he could recognize her?
—What a strange and absurd story. Why did she insist on coming with us, risking discovery?
—I can't say, sir,—Hamad replied, always attentive to the young man's mood.
— So you mean she met Balam in my own tribe? And I thought she was really a follower of his... that she had known him for longer...— he spoke in a low tone, with irritated gestures and moving from side to side, as if talking to himself. — How can someone be as naive as me? My grandfather was right... I know nothing about life or people.
His thoughts were spinning. He himself walked around the room, unable to find a plausible reason for the servant girl's presence on his path.
— Could it be my grandfather's doing?— he asked next. "Could it be that he sent her after me thinking I would need her services? Ah... old Abdul went too far... too far.
Hamad remained silent. He had said enough and only what his conscience dictated. There are many secrets that cannot be revealed. Especially those that concern the heart. The young sheikh was truly naive, he had not even come close to understanding why the young gypsy insisted on staying by his side despite the risk she was running. And he, Hamad, for his part, also did not delve into the reason why he was still at the feet of the two wanderers, following them and sharing their private dramas.
Aisha woke up in the middle of the conversation. In time to understand that they were talking about her and that her young lord already knew everything.
She took a deep breath , unable to contain her sadness. Pain and fear burst into suffocated tears, while she pretended to still be asleep. She had to think quickly about what to do as she will couldn't bear Kadir's anger.
Hamad and Kadir left the room. The old Sheikh and his group of followers had already left without giving them time for thanks or other trivialities.
— What a shame that the Sheikh left so early,— Kadir said to Hamad, —I still had so much to ask him...
His gaze turned to the engravings on the wall. He quickly scanned them and fixed once again on the figure of the bird. The Simorgh seemed to move as if it were about to take flight. The young man reached out his arm, lightly touching the figure of the bird at head height, as if stroking it.
— Which direction should I go? Which direction?— he said quietly, asking himself.
– I don't know, young Lord – Hamad replied, even though he knew that the question wasn't directed at him – I think you should find out these answers for yourself. No one, not even your Master Balam, can answer what you want. Some things come from the depths of the soul. Only it knows the reasons and the paths.
– It may be, it may be that – the young man agreed with a discouraged air, sitting down again – But I believe that Sheikh Sayad knew many things. With all this confusion I couldn't continue my conversation with him.
He said this while looking with a certain air of indignation at the room where they had left Randú, who now revealed herself to be Aisha.
– What do you intend to do about it, Lord? – asked the Tuareg, noticing the direction of his gaze.
Kadir shook his head, quite uncomfortable, and said:
– I don't know yet... the truth is that she, whoever she is, won't be able to go with us. Maybe she should wait for the next caravan and pay someone to take her back to the tribe.
– But, Lord, if she returns under these circumstances, she will be condemned...
– Then I can sell her, since she is my slave...
Kadir did not notice the Tuareg's indignant look. For the free people of the desert, the idea of slavery is abominable. It is an endless terror. How can someone who dreams of Paradise admit this aberration so naturally?
– By Allah, Lord!? Poor girl...
For a moment Kadir seemed to realize the absurdity that had gone through his head. He pressed his temples in an uncomfortable gesture and continued:
– I don't know, I don't know... I really don't know. This is completely beyond what I expected. – Leave me alone. I need to think!
Having said this, he withdrew to the outside of the temple and, as was already customary in his tribe, sat on top of a dune to contemplate the horizon he had been searching for. Who knows, perhaps in contemplation Allah would send him answers?
Seeing him leave, the Tuareg went to the room where the young woman was recovering. He intended to warn her of what had happened as soon as she woke up. But he found her already awake, sitting cross-legged on the bed, without any disguise. From her posture and the sadness written on her face, he realized that she already knew everything and that she had heard their last conversation. Without the clothes that transformed her into a boy and the way she was curled up, the young woman seemed even smaller.
— Look, girl! What a situation you've gotten yourself into. I can offer you my protection, but in the end, any decision is up to you and him.
Without looking up, the young gypsy spoke in a whisper:
— I think he's already decided.
For the first time in his life, the Tuareg felt that something was out of his control. He didn't know what to say to the young woman. After a while, Aisha spoke again, this time looking him in the eyes.
— Can you take me with you?
Caught off guard, the fearless warrior didn't know what to say. He still had so much to unravel about this unusual encounter, so many memories to stir. After a few seconds, without looking at the girl, he replied:
- Where could I take you, beautiful girl? I can't even imagine what awaits me. The future is uncertain and the desert is changing rapidly. Every day is getting shorter. I sense a war cry coming.
He said this thinking about the number of foreigners who, in recent years, had been requesting entry into the most inhospitable corners of the desert. Whether out of mere curiosity, research or exploration, it certainly bothered him and put him on alert. He had already lived through many battles, but now it seemed that the eyes of the world were turning there, to those sands. Nomadic tribes, like his, had to head to more hidden corners to stay safe. Nations and caliphates were emerging, leaving the nomads unsure of which direction to take. However, this was not the time to dwell on such thoughts. Life had placed him in a situation he had not expected and that brought back memories, stirred up the past, but also propelled him forward, trying to understand the reasons for destiny beyond his daily life. He turned his eyes to the young woman, who he noticed was more downcast:
- The safest choice would be to allow them to take you back to your master's tribe and face the consequences. To try to explain yourself.
Aisha made a gesture of refusal and shrank even more into the corner of the bed.
- I think, girl, that for now your soul will not be at ease anywhere in this vast desert, - Hamad used a low tone, as if speaking to himself. - One day, who knows, when your spirit is calm, you will be able to think better about it and decide without whims? Hmm?
- Who knows? – he continued, seeing that the young woman was closed in the deepest silence – who knows if your heart and also that of young Kadir will calm down and be able to see the path to follow? Until then, princess, I will be a mere spectator, trying to find in the sand the bonds that I lost.
The girl seemed to look into the void, without any expression. Hamad stood up ready to leave, but he spoke insistently:
– For Allah's sake, girl, be at peace! Do not let the Jhins of sadness take over your spirit. I will leave so that you can rest a little longer.