Read Online THE THIEF OF KALIMAR (Graham Diamond's Arabian Nights Adventures) by Graham Diamond - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Graham Diamond
Ads: Link
be his. All that he had ever desired was about to be gained in a single stroke. The thief of thieves would be a thorn in his side no more.
5
It was the longest day of her life. Hour after hour she had searched, high and low, in and out of every alley and every byway both familiar and unfamiliar. But all her efforts had been futile. Bravely she had climbed to the roofs, investigated the winding, endless narrow alleys that weaved in and out among streets ancient and crumbling where only urchins and packs of wild dogs could be found. Panting from fatigue and hunger, her body glistening in perspiration, she went relentlessly on, vowing never to give up until he was found and warned of the dangers that lurked from every direction.
Now, though, as the shadows of day deepened, Mariana began to despair. Up to the present, her search had been relatively easy, seeking her lover in places he was known to frequent. The night could only serve to complicate matters, adding personal risk and peril to her search. Not only must she avoid the patrols, who seemingly had preceded her every step of the way, but now also the robbers and cutthroats, men who would not hesitate to deal with a woman as harshly and callously as with any other mark caught in the web of their private territory.
But this danger made no difference. Upheld by sincere love, she would never regret her actions, rash and dangerous as they were.
Nightfall spread across Kalimar, bringing calm and quiet. Mariana listened as the last of the priests sang evening prayer from the distant minarets and considered which avenue she should try next. Candlelight from the windows above illuminated the streets, which slowly began to swell with life as the Jandari prepared for another evening. The odor of sweetmeats and sour sauces permeated the air. The glow of cooking fires from stalls and hearths brightened the byways and sent shadows dancing above her head. Mariana put a hand to her brow and tried to compile a list of all the places she had searched, and those she had yet to seek. But there were so very many, and her task seemed to become more and more impossible. Yet there was a measure of comfort with her despair. For if Ramagar could keep so well hidden from her, then he may have managed to elude the cohort of soldiers who shared her eagerness to find him.
At last she made up her mind and changing directions decided to follow the old gutted street that ran parallel to the Avenue of Pigs. The crumbling hovels, mere shells of what they had been during the Jandari’s moments of glory, towered above her at either side. Once upon a time they had housed the finest families in all of Kalimar, centuries ago, before the desert winds had swept across the land and turned her fertile plains into dry and barren wastes. Every kingdom and every empire has its day, and Kalimar was no exception. But now its glories were past, faded into recorded memory. A thousand years of splendor were lost upon the rotting brick and dusty streets of a once proud city. Its founders and heroes were dust scattered to the winds; the vultures remained to feed off what was left. And the street people of the Jandari were only mirror images of the ugly world around them.
But gentle Mariana was unaware of all these things as she passed the ancient relics. She could think only of her lover, and her urgent need to save him.
A strange silence followed her as she made her way among the piles of stone and garbage. Alone and frightened, she ran as quickly as she could, anxious to reach the wharves and her lover’s secret hiding places among the abandoned warehouses.
As she crossed the narrowing road, avoiding the path of a pack of lean scavenger rats that poked their heads up among the refuse, she stopped short with a gasp. Lying in the middle of the road was a man—a sad, pathetic figure, writhing and moaning upon the ground. At first she wondered if this was a ruse and the man was actually a cutthroat of some sort,
5
It was the longest day of her life. Hour after hour she had searched, high and low, in and out of every alley and every byway both familiar and unfamiliar. But all her efforts had been futile. Bravely she had climbed to the roofs, investigated the winding, endless narrow alleys that weaved in and out among streets ancient and crumbling where only urchins and packs of wild dogs could be found. Panting from fatigue and hunger, her body glistening in perspiration, she went relentlessly on, vowing never to give up until he was found and warned of the dangers that lurked from every direction.
Now, though, as the shadows of day deepened, Mariana began to despair. Up to the present, her search had been relatively easy, seeking her lover in places he was known to frequent. The night could only serve to complicate matters, adding personal risk and peril to her search. Not only must she avoid the patrols, who seemingly had preceded her every step of the way, but now also the robbers and cutthroats, men who would not hesitate to deal with a woman as harshly and callously as with any other mark caught in the web of their private territory.
But this danger made no difference. Upheld by sincere love, she would never regret her actions, rash and dangerous as they were.
Nightfall spread across Kalimar, bringing calm and quiet. Mariana listened as the last of the priests sang evening prayer from the distant minarets and considered which avenue she should try next. Candlelight from the windows above illuminated the streets, which slowly began to swell with life as the Jandari prepared for another evening. The odor of sweetmeats and sour sauces permeated the air. The glow of cooking fires from stalls and hearths brightened the byways and sent shadows dancing above her head. Mariana put a hand to her brow and tried to compile a list of all the places she had searched, and those she had yet to seek. But there were so very many, and her task seemed to become more and more impossible. Yet there was a measure of comfort with her despair. For if Ramagar could keep so well hidden from her, then he may have managed to elude the cohort of soldiers who shared her eagerness to find him.
At last she made up her mind and changing directions decided to follow the old gutted street that ran parallel to the Avenue of Pigs. The crumbling hovels, mere shells of what they had been during the Jandari’s moments of glory, towered above her at either side. Once upon a time they had housed the finest families in all of Kalimar, centuries ago, before the desert winds had swept across the land and turned her fertile plains into dry and barren wastes. Every kingdom and every empire has its day, and Kalimar was no exception. But now its glories were past, faded into recorded memory. A thousand years of splendor were lost upon the rotting brick and dusty streets of a once proud city. Its founders and heroes were dust scattered to the winds; the vultures remained to feed off what was left. And the street people of the Jandari were only mirror images of the ugly world around them.
But gentle Mariana was unaware of all these things as she passed the ancient relics. She could think only of her lover, and her urgent need to save him.
A strange silence followed her as she made her way among the piles of stone and garbage. Alone and frightened, she ran as quickly as she could, anxious to reach the wharves and her lover’s secret hiding places among the abandoned warehouses.
As she crossed the narrowing road, avoiding the path of a pack of lean scavenger rats that poked their heads up among the refuse, she stopped short with a gasp. Lying in the middle of the road was a man—a sad, pathetic figure, writhing and moaning upon the ground. At first she wondered if this was a ruse and the man was actually a cutthroat of some sort,
Similar Books
