Season of the Sandstorms Page 3

  Relief flooded through Jack. He laughed. “Yes, we’re safe!” he said. “And you’re safe, too!”

  “My men fought well,” said Mamoon. “The thieves fled with only a few bags of pepper and painted beads.”

  “And we kept your box safe, too!” said Annie proudly. She knelt and dug in the sand until she uncovered the wooden box. She handed it to Mamoon.

  “Ahh, very good,” the caravan leader said.

  “What’s in the box?” asked Annie.

  “A priceless treasure,” said Mamoon. “I have brought it all the way from Greece. And I am taking it to Baghdad. Thank you both for guarding it with your lives. You are very special.”

  “Sure, no problem,” said Jack. He still wondered what was in the box. Gold? Silver? Precious jewels?

  But Mamoon did not say. He put the box back into his camel’s saddlebag. “Let us be on our way now,” he said.

  Jack climbed on top of his kneeling camel. He clucked his tongue. He was surprised and pleased when Beauty rose up on her tall legs.

  “We will catch up with the others in Baghdad,” said Mamoon. “If all goes well, we will arrive in the city in the afternoon. We must head east toward the morning sun.”

  Mamoon rode out of the dunes. Jack and Annie followed him. As their camels rocked through the chilly dawn, daylight shimmered over the sand.

  “Mamoon, last night we heard strange sounds in the dunes,” said Annie. “Like music playing.”

  “Ah, yes,” said Mamoon, “the whistling sands.”

  “What are the whistling sands?” asked Jack.

  “Some say it is magic,” said Mamoon. “But I believe that all things in nature have their reasons. That is why I like the study of science. Science says we must observe our world. We must make experiments and try to find out why things happen. We have learned the whistling is made by sands settling in the drifts.”

  “Oh,” said Annie. “I’d hoped it was magic.”

  “Learning the reasons for things is magic,” said Mamoon. “True knowledge brings light to the world. And that is a magical thing, no?”

  “Yes,” said Jack.

  Annie nodded thoughtfully. “I guess, when you put it that way,” she said.

  Swaying from side to side on their camels, the three riders traveled toward the dawn. As the sun rose higher in the sky, the desert grew blazing hot. A dry wind whipped through the air, making snaky patterns in the sand.

  Mamoon halted his camel. He looked around and frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” said Jack. “Are there signs of bandits?”

  Mamoon shook his head. “No, it is the desert itself that worries me now,” he said. “It is restless.” He clucked his tongue, and his camel began walking again.

  As they rode over the restless desert, the wind picked up loose sand and tossed it into the air. Jack and Annie lowered their heads to keep the sand from blowing into their eyes. Their head cloths flapped in the wind. More and more sand started blowing. The desert seemed alive as the sand shifted and swirled.

  Mamoon stopped again and looked about. The snaky patterns in the sand were blowing into round, curly patterns. Jack heard a weird moaning sound. “Is that the whistling sands again?” he asked hopefully.

  “No,” said Mamoon. “That is the cry of a terrible sandstorm. And it will soon be upon us.”

  In the distance, a haze of sand was spreading over the desert. As the wind picked up, the sky turned red and the haze thickened into a brown cloud. The cloud began gliding toward Jack, Annie, and Mamoon like a moving wall.

  “Get down! Lie on your bellies!” ordered Mamoon. “Quickly! Cover your faces with your head cloths!”

  Jack clucked his tongue. Beauty knelt to the ground. Jack, Annie, and Mamoon jumped off their camels and lay down on the sand beside them.

  Jack tried desperately to cover his face with his head cloth, but the raging wind kept whipping the cloth from his hands. The sky turned from red to black. The moaning sound turned into a loud rumbling.

  Jack looked up and saw the wind rip the saddlebag off Mamoon’s kneeling camel! The bag hit the ground and fell open. The box bounced out and tumbled away in the driving wind.

  “The treasure!” cried Jack, but his voice was drowned out by the wind. He jumped up and bolted after the box.

  Jack raced across the desert as the sand battered his body. The wind tried to push him down. But Jack ran with all his might, until finally he caught up with the box and threw himself down on top of it. He grabbed the ends of his head scarf and covered his face.

  The sandstorm blasted over Jack, sounding like the hoofbeats of a hundred galloping camels. Jack’s eyes burned. He felt as if he were suffocating.

  Slowly the thundering softened to a low rumbling. The rumbling faded to a moaning. The wind died down. The hot desert grew still and silent.

  Coughing, Jack rolled over and sat up. He had sand in his mouth, sand in his ears, and sand in his nose. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his stinging eyes. But rubbing only made them worse.

  Blinking, Jack clutched the box and looked around for the others. The air was thick with dust. He had completely lost his sense of direction.

  “Jack! Jack!” He heard Annie shouting.

  Jack clutched the small wooden box and stood up. His legs were so wobbly, he fell over. “Annie!” he croaked.

  “Jack!” she called through the dust. “Where are you?”

  “Here!” he said.

  “Where?”

  “Here!”

  “There you are!” said Annie, stumbling out of the haze. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay,” croaked Jack. “Are you?”

  “Yes! I ran after you,” said Annie. Her voice was hoarse, too.

  “I had to save the box,” said Jack. “Where’s Mamoon?”

  “I don’t know,” said Annie. “I don’t think he saw us chase after the box.”

  “Mamoon!” they shouted together. “Mamoon!”

  There was no answer.

  Peering through the sandy haze, Jack heard thumping sounds. He and Annie turned around. Their two camels were trotting toward them.

  “Cutie!” cried Annie. “Beauty!”

  Jack and Annie stumbled to their camels and grabbed their reins.

  “Thank you for finding us!” said Annie.

  “Yeah, thanks,” said Jack, patting Beauty.

  “Mamoon!” Annie called. “Mamoon!”

  “He must have gone in the wrong direction to look for us,” said Jack.

  “If we don’t find him, how will we get to Baghdad? And what will we do with his treasure?” asked Annie.

  “I don’t know,” said Jack. He held up the wooden box.

  “Look, the top’s broken,” said Annie. She pointed to a long crack running down the lid of the box.

  “I hope the treasure wasn’t hurt,” said Jack.

  “Maybe we should check and see,” said Annie.

  Jack took a deep breath. He still thought Mamoon might not want them to look inside the box. But his curiosity got the best of him. “Okay,” he said. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to make sure it’s all right.”

  Jack pried apart the two pieces of wood and lifted them off. Inside the box was a book.

  “A book?” said Jack, surprised. He’d expected gold or jewels. He carefully lifted the book out of the box. It had a plain leather cover with no title on it.

  “It doesn’t look like a precious treasure,” said Annie.

  “Maybe the writing inside is the treasure,” said Jack.

  Jack gently opened the book. Inside were pages of thick yellow paper. The pages were bound with stitching and covered with writing on both sides. The first page said:

  THE WRITINGS OF ARISTOTLE

  “Who is Ar-is-totle?” said Annie, sounding out the name.

  “I don’t know,” said Jack. “I’ll look him up in our research book.” He unhooked his bag from the saddle horn. Sand covered the books inside. He pulled out their research book and
brushed it off. Then he looked up Aristotle in the index. “Good. He’s here,” Jack said. He turned to the right page and read:

  Aristotle (say AIR-is-TAH-tul) lived in ancient Greece over 2,300 years ago. He is known as one of the greatest philosophers of all time. The word philosopher means “lover of wisdom.” Aristotle’s works were introduced to the Western world by the Arabs in the Middle Ages.

  “So Aristotle was a great lover of wisdom,” said Annie.

  “I guess so,” said Jack. “But I wonder why this book is such a treasure.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Annie. “Doesn’t Merlin’s note tell us that we have to help the caliph of Baghdad spread wisdom to the world?”

  Jack caught his breath. “Yeah,” he said. “And if this is a book of Aristotle’s writings, it must be full of wisdom…. We have to get this book to the caliph—that’s our mission for Merlin!”

  “We better get going!” said Annie.

  Jack and Annie pulled on the reins of their camels and clucked their tongues. Beauty and Cutie knelt in the sand, and Jack and Annie climbed on. Leaving the broken box behind, Jack carefully packed the ancient book of Aristotle’s wisdom and the research book into his bag. Then he hung the bag from his saddle horn.

  “Which way?” said Annie.

  “Toward the rising sun in the east,” said Jack. “That’s what Mamoon said.”

  “It’s that way, then,” said Annie. She pointed toward a bright blur in the hazy sky.

  Jack and Annie’s camels headed into the dusty, glaring sun. “Hey, we’re following Merlin’s second instruction now,” said Annie. “Ride through the dust and hot morning light.”

  “You’re right,” said Jack.

  As Jack and Annie kept traveling toward the east, the desert sands shimmered and sparkled with heat. The air cleared, but still they saw no sign of Mamoon.

  Jack looked down to shield his eyes from the burning sunlight. Exhausted, he closed his eyes. As Beauty swayed gently from side to side, Jack’s head dropped forward. Suddenly he heard Annie shout, “Jack! Look!”

  “What? Mamoon?” said Jack, jerking awake.

  “No! Look!” said Annie.

  In the distance, Jack saw sunlit towers and domes shining against the clear blue sky. “Oh, man,” he whispered. “Baghdad.”

  “Let’s hurry!” said Annie.

  As Beauty and Cutie walked toward Baghdad, the loose sand of the desert changed to sunbaked earth. Then the hard earth changed to scrubby grass. Goats and sheep grazed in the grass, and farms dotted the countryside.

  It wasn’t long before Jack and Annie came to a red clay path. The path led to a crossroads where many travelers were coming from different directions. They were all heading toward the shining city. Jack and Annie rode alongside boys driving sheep and farmers in donkey carts. They passed women with veils over their faces, carrying pots on their shoulders.

  Jack kept looking for Mamoon. But he never saw him. Moving with the crowd, Beauty and Cutie clomped across a bridge. Rowboats and barges glided along the yellowish brown river.

  On the other side of the river was a huge outdoor market with a maze of tents. The market seemed to be filled with people from many countries. The sharp smell of incense filled the air. Stalls were jammed with burlap sacks, baskets, and carpets. Shoemakers sat cross-legged, stitching shoes. Potters were bent over ovens, baking earth-colored pots. Weavers sat at small looms, spinning silk brocade.

  “Paper? Pearls?” a merchant shouted.

  “No thanks!” said Annie.

  “Pigeons, parrots?” another shouted at Jack.

  “No thanks!” he said.

  “I love this place!” said Annie. “What is it?”

  “I’ll look it up,” said Jack. He pulled out their research book and read:

  In the ninth century, traders from all over the world brought their goods to Baghdad to sell. Baghdad merchants traded paper, fine cloth, and jewelry for goods from Spain, India, Africa, China, Greece, and other lands. These goods were sold in a huge open-air market called a bazaar.

  “Oh, so a bazaar is sort of like a mall,” said Jack.

  “It’s a lot better than a mall!” said Annie. “Let’s get off and look around.”

  “We don’t have time to shop,” said Jack. “We have to finish our mission.” He pulled out Merlin’s letter and read:

  Find a horse on a dome,

  the one who sees all,

  in the heart of the city

  behind the third wall.

  “It sounds like we pass three walls and then we come to a horse,” said Jack. “We’d better keep going.”

  Jack put the book and letter away. Beauty and Cutie ambled through the noisy bazaar. When they left the bazaar, they came to a curved brick wall. Running along the base of the wall was a muddy moat.

  “Look—that must be the first wall!” said Annie.

  “Cool,” said Jack.

  Jack and Annie rode the two camels over an arched bridge that crossed the moat. They passed through a gate with double iron doors. On the other side of the wall was a busy avenue lined with buildings.

  As their camels wove slowly in and out of the crowd, Jack pulled out their research book. Swaying from side to side, he read to Annie:

  During its golden age, Baghdad had good hospitals. The city was also known for its excellent police system and public schools, along with its many libraries and stores and a zoo with a hundred lions.

  “I’d like to visit those lions,” said Annie.

  “We don’t have time now,” said Jack.

  Their camels clopped down the busy avenue until they came to a green field.

  “Look, there’s the second wall!” said Annie.

  Bordering the field was another wall. It was curved, too, but much taller than the first. It looked like it was at least a hundred feet high. There were guards at the gate, but they didn’t seem to be checking any of the people passing through.

  “Act normal,” Jack advised Annie. “Don’t attract their attention.”

  Jack and Annie joined a stream of people passing through the gate. Beyond the second wall was another grand avenue. And at the end of the wide cobbled road was another green field. “Look! The third wall!” said Annie.

  The third wall was even taller than the second. Again, people were passing freely through its gate.

  “This part of the mission is easy!” said Annie.

  “Yeah,” said Jack. “But we still have to find that horse on the dome, and then find the caliph and get him to meet with us.”

  Beauty and Cutie ambled through the gate of the third wall, carrying Jack and Annie into the heart of Baghdad. A palace loomed before them. Its roof was a glittering green dome. At the top of the dome stood the statue of a horse.

  “Yay, the horse who sees all!” said Annie. “I’ll bet the caliph lives in that palace. Let’s follow those people inside.” She pointed to a stream of people entering an arched passageway outside the palace.

  Jack and Annie rode under the arch and into a beautiful garden. The warm breeze smelled of flowers. They rode down a path bordered by date palms until they came to a courtyard where boys were playing ball. Near the courtyard was a stable with camels in it.

  “Looks like we’ll have to go the rest of the way on foot,” said Jack.

  “Yeah, I guess Beauty and Cutie can stay there,” said Annie, pointing to the stable.

  Jack and Annie rode into the stable. They clucked, and the camels knelt. As Jack reached for his shoulder bag, a ball rolled into the stable. Annie picked it up and stepped outside. Jack followed her.

  “Here!” shouted a young boy with curly black hair. He was holding out his hands. Annie threw the ball to him, and the boy caught it. He grinned at Annie’s good throw. “Who are you?” he called. “Where are you from?”

  Before Jack could say anything, Annie crossed to the boys. Jack hurried after her.

  “I’m Annie and this is my brother, Jack,” Annie said. “We’re from Frog Creek,
Pennsylvania.”

  “Why have you come to Baghdad?” the boy asked.

  “We have to see the caliph,” said Annie.

  The boy and his friends laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” said Annie.

  “Our caliph is the most powerful man in the world,” said another boy. “He does not have time to visit with children.”

  “That’s what everyone keeps saying,” said Annie. “But we’re here on a very important mission. We—”

  “Annie,” Jack interrupted, “come on. I left my bag back in the stable.” He waved to the boys. “See you guys later. Let’s go, Annie.”

  Annie started to leave with Jack.

  “When you discover that the caliph will not meet with you, come back and play with us,” called the curly-haired boy.

  Annie stopped. “Don’t worry,” she called back. “He’ll meet with us! We’re special!”

  “Annie, come on,” said Jack.

  “Why are you special?” shouted the boy.

  “For one thing, we just saved a precious treasure from bandits and from a sandstorm in the desert,” said Annie. “For another—”

  “Annie!” Jack said sternly. He grabbed her arm. “Come on!” He pulled Annie away.

  As they headed back into the stable, Jack shook his head. “Don’t say stuff like that,” he said.

  “Why not?” said Annie.

  “Because it’s bragging,” said Jack. “It makes other kids feel bad. Even if you are special, you don’t have to—”

  “Oh, no!” cried Annie. She covered her mouth with her hands.

  “What?” said Jack, following her shocked gaze.

  Jack’s leather bag lay at Beauty’s feet. It was open. Beside it was the torn leather cover of Aristotle’s book. Wet pages hung in shreds from Beauty’s mouth as she happily chewed the precious treasure.

  “Nooooo!” cried Jack.

  Jack ran to Beauty and yanked hunks of paper from her mouth. Annie dropped to her knees and picked up the torn pieces strewn around the camel’s big feet.

  “The treasure’s ruined!” moaned Annie.

  Jack was stunned. “I shouldn’t have left my bag here,” he said.