The Black Stallion Returns Page 11

  Tabari straightened in her saddle, but did not move.

  Abd-al-Rahman rode up to them, nodded to Alec, and then spoke to Tabari in Arabic, his voice soft, his brown eyes keen and appraising.

  As Alec watched them, he marveled at the courage of this young chieftain who had dared to enter the domain of Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak alone. And why? To watch the Black’s workout? Perhaps. Or was there some other reason? Tabari had told him she hadn’t seen Abd-al-Rahman since the last race … five years ago.

  The young chieftain laughed and placed a brown hand upon the pommel of Jôhar’s saddle. Tabari raised her voice angrily, and her lips trembled.

  Alec moved between them. He didn’t know what he could do, but he couldn’t just stand by. Tabari turned to him.

  “He has threatened to ride off with me,” she said angrily. “He … does not think I have the ability to choose for myself!”

  She swept the hand of the young chieftain off her saddle.

  Alec was astonished at the wildness and courage of the girl, who was so small that in talking to Abd-al-Rahman she had to throw her head backwards. She was untamed, uncurbed by restraint … like Jôhar, the purebred she rode.

  He looked at Abd-al-Rahman. His smooth face was boyish and gentle beneath the flowing black beard. It was difficult to believe that this man was responsible for the shedding of blood in the past … that he was the man the family and clan of Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak feared.

  Tabari took up Jôhar’s reins, and the sheikh made no move to stop her. His eyes laughed into her angry ones. Her voice rose to a higher and angrier pitch. Then, to Alec’s amazement, she suddenly burst into tears, turned Jôhar so quickly that the horse almost fell, and fled.

  Alec followed, deep in thought.

  IBN AL KHALDUN

  12

  That night Alec found it difficult to sleep. His mind, active and alert, turned to the coming race, Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak, Tabari, and Abd-al-Rahman. Then there was the small Bedouin who was to ride the Black in his race against Abd-al-Rahman’s chestnut stallion, Sagr. He was a skilled rider, but he would not get the best out of the Black … and every bit of speed the great stallion had would be necessary to beat Sagr.

  Rolling over on his back, Alec’s gaze swept to the windows. Through the heavy drapes he could see the moonlight filtering inside. He closed his eyes and finally slept.

  Hours later he suddenly awakened and sat upright in bed. A hand swept across his sleep-laden eyes. Had it been a dream, or had he actually heard the Black scream? Quickly he jumped out of bed and walked to the window. Pulling the drapes to one side, he looked up the valley. All was quiet, and a dull gray in the east marked the coming of dawn. He went back, but sleep would not come.

  A shrill whistle pierced the night air. The Black!

  Alec ran to the window. To the others, if they had heard, it was only the scream of a wild stallion. But to Alec, the high-pitched whistle meant danger … danger to the Black. He had heard it before.

  In the gray light he could see the horses bunched together up the valley. They moved slowly at first, then faster into a gallop. Breaking away from them was the giant form of the Black. As Alec’s eyes became accustomed to the light, he made out a figure on the back of the stallion. The Black ran in spurts, stopping, whirling, vainly attempting to unseat his rider.

  Pulling on his clothes quickly, Alec hurried downstairs. He stopped when he reached Abu Ishak’s bedroom and pounded on the door. It was opened a moment later by the tall sheikh.

  “The Black … Shêtân … I saw someone riding him!”

  Sleep vanished from Abu Ishak’s black eyes as he looked into Alec’s taut face. “Go to the stables.… Awaken my men there.… Bring horses. I’ll meet you in front.”

  The valley was quiet when Alec left the house and ran toward the stables. As far as he could see, there was no sign of the Black.

  When he returned with the horses and sleepy Bedouins, Abu Ishak was waiting for them. He mounted and they rode swiftly toward the grazing band.

  The horses moved nervously as the riders approached them, then broke into a gallop. The Bedouins headed them off and they thundered past Alec and Abu Ishak.

  Abu’s eyes shifted to Alec. The Black was not among them.

  “In which direction, Alec?” Abu Ishak asked, and his voice was as cold as the steel dagger he bore on his belt.

  “He was more to the west when I saw him …”

  Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak shouted to his men, and then they rode. When they had gone a short distance, Abu stopped his horse and dismounted. Closely he scrutinized the ground, then mounted again. Alec and the others followed as the sheikh led them down the valley. They turned up the path which Alec recognized as the one he and Tabari had taken the day before … the one that led to the narrow chasm, which in turn led to the outer world.

  They climbed rapidly, pushing their horses to keep up with Abu Ishak. Finally they reached the clearing and came to a halt. Abu sat straight in his saddle; his keen eyes moved from the chasm above across the surrounding terrain.

  Suddenly he kicked his horse forward and headed up the trail. He made an abrupt turn as they neared the chasm, came to a stop, and dismounted. When Alec arrived, he saw him bending over the body of a white-robed figure. As Abu stepped to one side, Alec saw the large bloodstain between the shoulder blades.

  Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak looked up at him, and spoke in a grim, clipped voice. “The sentry whose nightly post this was … is dead.” His voice rose. “Before Allah, this time it is the end!” He leaped into his saddle without using the stirrup, and pulled his gray into a rear. Up and down it plunged, as Abu swore and roared angrily at his men, who turned and rode swiftly down the trail. Abu Ishak turned to Alec. “Come,” he said curtly, “we go back.”

  They rode in silence, and when they reached Abu Ishak’s home the sun had risen above the mountains to the east. Abu dismounted and without a word to Alec entered the house.

  Alec remained in his saddle. The Black was gone … stolen again. What would Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak do this time? The sentry was dead. Blood had been shed … and blood called for blood. The law of the desert. Abd-al-Rahman in the valley the day before … had he returned?

  A Bedouin ran past him and entered the house. There was a tenseness in the air, and suddenly a drum boomed, its rhythmic beats echoing throughout the valley. Horses were being saddled in the stables, and from the homes white-robed figures appeared carrying saddles and guns. The pounding of hoofs attracted Alec’s attention to the valley. The horses were being driven in by swift-riding Bedouins.

  The men of Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak were preparing for battle!

  Alec sat still in his saddle, listening to the incessant beating of the drum, which seemed to say over and over … “Blood for Blood.… Blood for Blood.”

  Swiftly the men of Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak gathered a short distance from the house. Their women brought ammunition and food to them. Guns were fired to clear them. Horses neighed and tramped restlessly. They were assembled and ready to follow their sheikh.

  Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak appeared on the porch; behind him were Tabari and the others. He raised his hand for silence, then spoke to them. Finishing, he turned to Tabari and together they walked toward his gray.

  Alec was suddenly aware of Raj beside him. “Does this mean war with Abd-al-Rahman?” Alec asked grimly.

  To Alec’s surprise his friend shook his head. “No, not necessarily, although Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak has told his men that the trail may lead to Abd-al-Rahman, and they go prepared. It is one of their own clan that they seek, their blood brother who was to ride the Black in the race, for it is he who is missing, and he who has stolen Shêtân and killed his brother.”

  “So it was he,” Alec muttered. The man had become affiliated with the clan of Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak for this sole purpose, Alec was certain. But why? Certainly he did not think he could cross the desert and sell the Black before Abu Ishak and his men found him. The most
obvious answer was that he was in the employ of Abd-al-Rahman, who had good reason to do away with the Black. Alec clasped the gold chain and medallion which were deep in the pocket of his white gown. Perhaps it was Abd-al-Rahman or one of his men who had attempted to kill the Black back home. Perhaps the boyish face and kind eyes of Abd-al-Rahman belied the savage and ruthless heart that beat within his giant frame. Perhaps it was his nature to be brutal when there was a chance that he and his horse might be beaten.

  Alec turned in his saddle and saw that Abu Ishak and his men were ready to leave. His gaze shifted to Henry and Mr. Volence standing on the porch, then back to Abu.

  “You go with them?” Raj asked in a soft, tense voice.

  Alec, deep in thought, did not hear Raj’s question.

  Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak raised his hand and drove his spurs into his gray stallion. His men followed behind him, and riding in no particular formation, they swept down the valley.

  Alec drew the reins hard against the neck of his horse and set out after them without a backward glance. Yes, he knew what he was doing, he told himself … knew also what he might be getting into. But his horse had been stolen; and he had to join the others in their search for him. He couldn’t sit back and wait … again. He could help, in some way. The backs of the white-robed figures in front rose and fell with the hindquarters of their horses. Because of his clothing, they wouldn’t know he was not one of them until it was too late to send him back.

  He followed as the Bedouins, forming a single line, rode up the path that led to the chasm in the mountains above. He turned in his saddle at the sound of a running horse to his rear. Another Bedouin! As he drew closer, Alec saw that it was Raj. The young Bedouin raised his hand, and fell in behind Alec. “I go with you,” he said.

  They had to push their horses to catch up with the riders ahead. Soon they reached the clearing where they had found the dead sentry. Then they went on to the chasm and filed through it until they had reached the outer ravine. The men rode more slowly now, their guns unslung and placed across their thighs.

  At times they would stop while Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak and his men inspected the ground. Then, after a few minutes, they would advance again, very often changing the direction of their march. The men rode easily, and still in no particular formation.

  That night they camped thirty miles away from the valley of Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak.

  Alec and Raj unsaddled their horses a short distance away from the others, and stretched out on the ground. “Perhaps it is best that we make ourselves known,” Raj suggested softly. “We cannot go much farther without food.”

  Alec nodded, and his gaze turned toward Abu Ishak. The sheikh was moving among his men. Each handed him his gun, and Abu Ishak would check the sights and then give it back to the owner. As he neared them, Alec said, “Here he comes, Raj, whether we like it or not.”

  The stern expression on Abu Ishak’s face did not change when he saw and recognized them. He showed no surprise, and his voice was calm. “Why did you come?” he asked.

  “To help you find Shêtân,” Alec replied, his eyes unwavering as they met those of the sheikh.

  “fferin! So the little cock crows. He grows spurs. He is going to help Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak and his men. Listen, my young friend, this is no peaceful country we ride through so cautiously. It is a land forbidden to men of all races, all colors.” A thin smile flickered on his lips and his eyes lost much of their sternness as he added, “But yes, I like your crowing. It is a good sign. I would send you back here and now, but then I would have to send one of my men with you, and Allah knows that I cannot do that for I may need every man.” He paused. “It is best that you come with us. You will learn much of war and the ways of men beyond the desert.”

  For two more days they moved easily, and on the third the formation changed. The Bedouins formed a single line and rode from ten to fifteen yards behind one another. As Raj dropped behind Alec, he said, “I was told last night that we have lost the spoor of Shêtân. We near the kingdom of Abd-al-Rahman, and the men are certain that it is there Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak will go in search of his horse. If there is opposition on the part of Abd-al-Rahman, it may mean war, Alec.” Raj’s face was grave as he finished.

  They rode on. The Bedouins had one hand placed upon their long guns, for Abu Ishak had passed the word back to be on the alert. As they went forward at a faster pace, a thousand thoughts occupied Alec’s mind. He was going to war. The thought frightened him, but there was no turning back. That he would have to take an actual part in the battle had not entered his mind when he had set out with the Bedouins. He and Raj were unarmed, and no match for the hardened warriors of Abd-al-Rahman.

  Finally they reached a plain and rode straight across it, still in the same formation. The Bedouins spurred their horses into a gallop and the ground shook from the thundering hoofs. It was early afternoon when Alec saw a large mass of rock ahead. Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak raised his hand and his men slowed their horses. They moved cautiously forward, and Alec realized that before them was the stronghold of Abd-al-Rahman!

  It was clearly visible now. The reddish rock rose in sheer cliffs above the plain, making the stronghold, it seemed to Alec, practically impregnable. Certainly the men of Abd-al-Rahman, firing from the top of the cliffs, could withstand an army many times the size of theirs.

  Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak brought his men to a halt about a quarter of a mile away from the rocks. He raised his rifle and fired three times. Then he sat back in his saddle and waited with the others, their keen eyes upon the stronghold ahead.

  Not long after, a horseman appeared, followed by three others. They rode cautiously toward Abu Ishak and his men.

  As they approached, Alec made out the flowing black beard of Abd-al-Rahman. He rode straight in his saddle, his gun unslung and held in one hand. Sagr’s pale golden mane and tail whipped in the breeze that blew across the plain. Abd-al-Rahman stopped when he was a short distance from them, and Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak rode forth to meet him.

  Alec saw the two sheikhs raise their hands in salute, then Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak spoke. Raj, standing near Alec, whispered, “He is explaining why we have come. His words are strong.”

  Alec’s gaze shifted to the mounted Bedouin to the right and just behind Abd-al-Rahman. There had been something familiar about him. He moved closer to get a better view and Raj followed.

  The Bedouin sat back in his saddle. He carried no gun and, unlike the others, held the reins in his right hand. Alec looked for the man’s left arm, and could find none! Quickly his eyes swept to the Bedouin’s face. It was difficult to make out his features under the low head shawl. Alec moved still closer.

  He stopped. He could not be mistaken. The Bedouin behind Abd-al-Rahman was Ibn al Khaldun! Sweat was pouring down the fatty crevices of his face as he stared into the sun. His lips were pulled back, disclosing the toothless gums, as he listened to the words of Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak.

  Alec moved cautiously back to the others. He hoped Ibn al Khaldun had not recognized him. Ibn al Khaldun here, one of the clan of Abd-al-Rahman! Ibn al Khaldun on the plane, leaving the States not long after the attack on the Black! The medallion, which he wore around his neck, the same as the one found in the barn after the attack on the Black! Everything tied together.

  Raj touched him on the shoulder. “They have finished,” he said.

  Sagr reared as Abd-al-Rahman’s long limbs squeezed about his girth. The young Bedouin chief touched his neck with the rein. Sagr whirled, and without a backward glance Abd-al-Rahman rode toward his stronghold, followed by his men.

  Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak watched them for a minute, then turned back to his men, his face stern and cold.

  “Abd-al-Rahman,” Raj explained to Alec, “claims to know nothing of the disappearance of Shêtân. Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak does not believe him and he told him so in words that were as sharp as the point of his dagger. If Shêtân is not returned by the time the sun rises above the mounta
ins tomorrow morning he will attack the stronghold of Abd-al-Rahman.” Raj’s eyes turned to the mass of rocks piled high on top of one another. “Much blood will be shed, Alec, if the sun rises without Shêtân’s being returned.”

  Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak spoke to his men, and when he had finished they dismounted and made camp. The tall sheikh then walked up to Alec and Raj. “It is best that you go now,” he said. “You will be taken to the mountains to the south end of the plains, and there you will wait until we have finished.” Without further word he turned to leave.

  Alec stopped him and proceeded to tell him about Ibn al Khaldun: how they had traveled with him in the plane from the States, and of the gold medallion which he wore around his neck.

  “It is as I thought,” Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak said. “The arms of Abd-al-Rahman are long.”

  He left then, and a few minutes later a Bedouin rode up and motioned Alec and Raj to mount. As they rode past the men, Alec could not help being surprised at their calmness. The coming battle seemed no great adventure to them. The horses, unsaddled, had been watered and were grazing. The Bedouins seemed content with the world; they sat on the ground, smoking, talking. Some even slept, their head shawls pulled down over their faces to shade them from the scorching sun. Only Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak moved among them, once more checking their guns, their ammunition, and his head did not turn toward Alec and Raj as they passed.

  Alec stared at the rocks behind him. How many men did Abd-al-Rahman have in his stronghold? Would they come forth to battle on the plain or would Abu Ishak’s men have to scale the cliffs? Many of the men who now were stretched contentedly on the ground would probably be dead before the sun set the following day. Didn’t that matter to them? Were they so hardened that they never even gave it a thought? His gaze shifted back to the horses as they moved slowly in their grazing, their long, slender necks bent to the ground. Centuries had been spent in their careful breeding, yet many of them, too, would be dead the following day. Abu Ishak had bred them for war or racing … and war had come first.