The Sleeping Sands

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Authors: Nat Edwards
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complete his work. On his return to the lodgings that Ahmed had arranged with one of Kerak’s Christian Arabs, Layard was in an inexplicably bad temper.
    Antonio, sensitive to his master’s moods, enquired attentively, ‘was your investigation fruitful, Effendi?’
    ‘A complete waste of time,’ growled Layard, ‘I had expected to find some evidence of-‘ he cut himself short, ‘oh it doesn’t matter. Where are Awad and Musa?’
    Layard’s ill temper was only worsened when he was met with unwelcome, if not entirely unexpected news.
    The Arabs were waiting for him. Now that their duty to escort Layard to Kerak had been discharged, it was time for them and their camels to return to the tents of Abu Dhaouk. The Arabs looked sadly at Layard, torn between a mutual affection that had grown between the three of them during the past days and a longing to return to their homes and away from these strange and ill-rumoured lands. Layard was no less sorry to see them leave. They had proved brave and honest companions, whose courage and quick-thinking had helped to bring them through some perilous scrapes. Moreover, they had over the past weeks helped him vastly improve his command of the Arab tongue. He called Antonio to prepare a last meal for the four of them and for Ibrahim, their Christian host. Ahmed had provided a sheep’s carcass, which Antonio boiled and served them. They sat together and ate in the characteristic silence of those about to part and who cannot find the words to describe the mixture of feelings such final partings engender. With no sound but five quietly munching mouths and the occasional snort of a camel from outside, Layard once more felt a wave of absolute loneliness begin the overwhelm him. His mind strayed time and again to his last conversation with Mitford. Had that brash adventurer truly been him? He felt guilty for the frustration, bordering on contempt, that he had felt at Mitford’s caution and a nostalgic ache to be in the comfort of their Jerusalem lodging with a fine bottle of wine.
    In the morning, Antonio and Layard bade farewell to the Arabs, watching the two men and their camels recede into the early morning desert haze. Layard felt such an onset of sentiment at their departure that he almost fancied himself missing the camels. The strain of conversation weighing heavy upon him, Layard set Antonio to various tasks tending to their retrieved possessions and hiring horses or mules for the next stage of their journey, while he busied himself in secret once again among the ruins. In the evening, he returned to find with irritation that Antonio had been unsuccessful in hiring a single animal. He snapped at the boy, who pleaded that no-one would risk their beasts for the journey to Jerash.
    ‘Effendi, they say there are constant attacks by Bedouins on the road,’ There were tears of frustration in the boy’s eyes. ‘I tried my very best.’
    ‘You should not blame the boy,’ muttered their host, Ibrahim. ‘The people have been given orders not to lend their animals to you.’
    ‘Orders?’ demanded Layard. ‘Who has given such orders?’
    ‘Effendi, there are but three hundred of we Christians living among twice as many Muslims,’ said Ibrahim quietly, looking sadly at the angry young Frank. ‘I have said enough on the matter. It would be best that you take up your business with the son of the Mujelli.’
     
    In the ruined castle of Kerak, Ahmed welcomed his guests with the usual aristocratic civility and charm. He was still full of high spirits following the raid on Sheikh Mahmoud and each time that Layard attempted to discuss the business of hiring animals, he would bring the conversation back to the subject of Layard’s robbery and their recovery of his possessions.
    ‘That was a fine carpet they almost got away with, Mr Layard,’ Ahmed said. ‘It is very fine workmanship indeed. Did you purchase it in Jerusalem?’
    ‘Well, yes I did,’ replied Layard, ‘but I really

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