He clung to the camel’s tail with his right hand. With his left, he held the reins. Weariness had sapped his strength and, despite his will to go on, his movements began to slacken. The camel yanked him and pulled him along the open desert. He found that this allowed him to catch his breath, and so he surrendered to it. He dangled from the camel’s tail, his feet plowing furrows across the rich soil. They seemed to plow forever as the piebald climbed through ravines, and plunged over hills. The rocks tore away Ukhayyad’s leather sandals and shredded his feet and legs. The wild plants gouged his thighs and ripped at his clothes. Ukhayyad came back to his senses and began to move his legs without letting go of the tail. With great plodding strides, the camel dragged him along.
Thirst — immortal power of the desert. Ukhayyad’s throat was desiccated, his mouth parched. He tried to swallow, but failed. Yet, patience was also god of thirst. Patience, the talisman that protects forever in the desert. God, give me patience! When God gives you patience in the desert, he is giving you everything in the world. The pain in his hands was agonizing. Had he himself not asked for pain? Hadn’t he asked God to lighten the burden of the piebald? The pain was not important. What was important was for the piebald to not escape. What was important was for the piebald to be cured. What was important was for the effect of the silphium to wear off after it had done its magic. Who knew, maybe a miracle would happen and the poor creature’s health would improve. But my God, did the road to the cure have to pass through hell? Did the cure need to be accompanied by excruciating pain for it to be effective? Was the price of his mistake really so grave? Were females really such an affliction? Was the evil eye really as malevolent and lethal as this?
His right arm would soon rip out of his shoulder. And then his left arm would too. If he did nothing, he would lose his grip. What could he do? He took the reins in his left hand and used the braided leather to fasten his hand to the camel’s tail. The leather was sticky and slipped out more than once. No — half solutions would not work. The knot had to be tied securely. If he could not tie it well, his hand would slip out and fall to the ground. The animal would escape and all this effort would go up in a cloud of dust. His left hand pulled on the tail and, using his right hand and his teeth, he fastened the strap around it. Gathering his remaining strength to steer the Mahri in his extraordinary gallop, Ukhayyad took comfort in the fact that he could rest as long as the strap held fast. If he succeeded in tying the reins securely, then he would also have succeeded in binding himself to the destiny of the piebald for eternity. The camel would not escape. The jinn would not steal the animal from him. He would beat the Devil himself if he had to. One more piece of patience was all he needed. One more thread.
A curtain of darkness fell.
The desert became wilder and more shadowy. Its expanse seemed to grow and grow.
A chorus of ethereal female voices trilled across the valleys from the heights of Jebel Hasawna. Their demonic ululations filled him with strength. Such calls always drive warriors on, even when they come from the throats of jinn.
His right hand went slack and he surrendered his feet. Together, man and camel plowed through the desert and obscurity.
8
Ukhayyad turned over and over in the sand, unconscious of where or who he was. He was roused only by the bright rays of the late afternoon sun. He came back to life, waking, though without waking, regaining consciousness, though not knowing who or where he was or how he got there. He lay on his stomach for some time, feeling nothing. His limbs were numb, as if they had been wrenched from his body. As he awoke, his body and head began to ache — his head as if it had been smashed open, his arms and legs as if their skin had been peeled off with a knife. He opened his eyes. Next to him, the piebald kneeled serenely in the valley, no less ragged than he. He spit blood from his mouth and looked at his body. What is this, Lord? His clothes had been torn and shredded, proving beyond a doubt that their mad course had passed through deep forested valleys. Flatland scrub would not have reached so high on a body that dangled, suspended from the tail. His body was covered with deep gashes and his body, arms, and legs were bathed in blood. Grains of sand had congealed into his wounds during the night. Sand and dirt also filled his mouth. Every now and then, he spat until he had got it all out. He tried to move his body but could not. The afternoon rays nearly blinded him. Then he looked closely at the piebald and could not believe what he saw. The poor beast was a solid red mass. He closed his eyes to rid himself of the image, then opened them again — but the vision was the same — a solid red mass. The camel had stopped bleeding, but the black skin had torn off.
He tried as hard as he could to move his limbs and crawl to the right, then used the branches of a squat broom tree to pull himself along the sand dune. His hand was still fastened to the camel’s tail, preventing him from crawling any farther. He stopped what he was doing, caught his breath and went back to work until he finally was able to release the strap. Then he rolled onto his back and groaned. The pain was terrible, and continued to mount and intensify. He began to crawl again toward the camel, looking him over from the right side. A solid piece of red meat. The manged hide had fallen away during the mad journey. The piebald had shed his skin like a snake. There was not a sore to be seen. The blood had congealed across the red hide. Grains of sand clung to his belly and right side and troublesome flies treated him like a stump of freshly butchered meat.
Despite his agony, Ukhayyad was ecstatic. Would the piebald be cured? Had the miracle of silphium worked? Had the pagan shrine answered his prayers, had it responded to his pledge?
It was a miracle. A marvel.
He felt thirsty, and then remembered about water. Ukhayyad had forgotten — he was all alone in an empty waste, completely cut off from everything. The horror of his struggle with the piebald made him forget the most potent source of protection in the desert: water.
Without water, miracles cannot take place in the desert. Even when a miracle does occur, the absence of water erases it, transforming it into mere illusion. Without water, the whole world becomes a fantasy. What good is it to have your health back if you lack water? Life draws near, but so too does death. Only yesterday he had shown his readiness to sacrifice everything for his piebald to be healed. Today, just as he was seduced into hoping that a miracle might happen, the rug was pulled out from under him. It was always like that. A wholly blessed life does not exist — a thing might appear, but only to take the place of something else. Sheikh Musa used to like saying, “Perfection belongs to God alone. Carelessness blossoms with youth, but wisdom and knowledge do not take its place until the onslaught of old age and infirmity. What’s the use of wisdom without youth? And what’s the value of knowledge without life?”
It was always like that. Yesterday, as the piebald tried to flee his fate, at the very height of his frenzied gallop, Ukhayyad had dozed off. He slept while hanging suspended from the camel’s tail. The rocks tore the skin from his feet, the bushes shredded his skin. And despite everything, despite the weariness and thirst and pain, he had slept. He did not know how or when that happened. At first, he had lost the sensation of pain. Then he lost the sensation of thirst. Then he slept as if he had passed out. If someone had told him this as a story, he wouldn’t have believed that it could happen. If he had not lived through the minutiae of the fantastical event, he would never have believed it. How powerful a human being is! Ukhayyad had not known so before this moment. Yes, a human was a trivial creature — so weak and insignificant that he could be killed even by mosquitoes. At the same time he was the strongest creature in the desert, fiercer than any wild beast.