‘Come on!’ Yusuf yelled as he grabbed the mule’s lead rope and cantered away. Soon, he could again hear the rumbling of horses’ hooves, and then the shouts of the bandits as they closed in. An arrow whizzed past Yusuf’s ear and shattered on the rock face ahead of him. He looked back and saw that the nearest bandits were only a dozen yards behind him. As he watched, Sa’ud’s horse was shot beneath him, collapsing and sending Sa’ud tumbling. The pack mule brayed loudly as it took an arrow in the flank. It stumbled and fell.
‘The gold!’ Yusuf exclaimed as he pulled back on the reins.
‘Forget it!’ John shouted as he rode past.
Yusuf hesitated for a split second, then spurred after his friend. Arrows were whizzing all around him. One sank into the rump of John’s horse, which slowed immediately. Yusuf rode up alongside him. ‘Quick, get behind me!’ John grabbed Yusuf’s arm and swung himself on to Yusuf’s horse. ‘ Yalla! Yalla!’ Yusuf shouted as he urged the last bit of speed from his tired mount.
‘’Sblood!’ John grunted as an arrow slammed into his shoulder. Another grazed the flank of Yusuf’s horse, and it whinnied in pain. ‘They’re right on top of us!’ John yelled. ‘No, wait,’ he added a second later. ‘They’re falling back!’
Yusuf looked back, incredulous. But it was true: the bandits were slowing, letting them escape. Yusuf met John’s eyes and they both grinned. Then, as their horse rounded a corner, the grin fell from John’s face. ‘ Stop!’ he yelled, but it was too late.
The ground fell out from beneath them as they rode straight over the edge of a tall cliff. The horse tumbled head first down the steep, gravelly slope, sending both John and Yusuf flying. Yusuf hit the ground and went tumbling head over heels. To his left, he caught a glimpse of John lying flat on his stomach, his arms and legs extended as he slid down the face of the slope. Yusuf saw the sky flash by, then the floor of a valley far below rushing up to meet him, then the sky again. Next moment, his head slammed into a rock, and the world went black.
Yusuf awoke in a darkness so absolute that he could not see his hand in front of his face. He was stiff and shaking with cold. He stretched gingerly, flexing his arms and legs. He was covered in bruises and his head ached, but he did not appear have broken anything. He sat up and slammed his forehead into hard rock. He fell back, groaning.
‘ Quiet!’ John hissed, his hand clapping over Yusuf’s mouth. ‘They’ll hear you.’
Yusuf fell silent, and John removed his hand. ‘Where are we?’ Yusuf whispered.
‘In a cave,’ John replied, his voice so low that Yusuf could barely hear him. ‘I carried you here after we fell. The bandits searched for us and then returned to their camp. It is not far from here. Come and see.’ Yusuf felt John tug on his arm, and he crawled forward after him, groping his way over the rocky floor. The passage narrowed until Yusuf was forced to squirm forward with his head sideways and his cheek pressed against the cold stone. On the other side of the narrow passage, the cave grew brighter. Yusuf could see John ahead, his finger to his lips. Yusuf joined him at the mouth of the cave. They were thirty feet up a steep slope, looking out over a rocky ravine.
‘There,’ John whispered, pointing to the right, where flickering firelight danced on the ravine walls. ‘They are camped a hundred yards down the ravine. I think they are Franks; I overheard two of them speaking Latin.’
‘Franks?’ Yusuf looked at John. ‘You could have gone to them.’
John shrugged. ‘And leave you to die? You know me better than that, Brother.’
Yusuf placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘Saving me was not the act of a slave, John. From this moment, you are free.’
John turned away. When he looked back, his eyes shone with tears. ‘Just my luck,’ he whispered, forcing a smile. ‘I gain my freedom just in time to die. We have one waterskin and no food. And with our guide dead, we have no idea how to get to Tell Bashir.’
‘Are the English all so grim?’ Yusuf said, clapping John on the back. ‘You are free, and we are alive. Allah has saved us from the bandits for a reason. He will guide us to Tell Bashir.’
‘How?’
‘The stars.’ Yusuf pointed to the heavens. ‘That is smiya, the north star. That means east is that way.’ He nodded across the ravine. ‘If we head east then we will meet the Sajur River, and it will lead us to Tell Bashir. The moon will set within the hour, and we will go then, under the cover of darkness. The further we are from those bandits come morning, the better.’
‘Christ’s blood,’ John cursed under his breath as he trudged forward, his chest heaving and his feet sore after jogging through the night. He stumbled to a stop as the fiery red sun rose above the horizon, and the first rays of sunlight hit him. Yusuf also stopped, and they looked about at the world now visible around them. They had left the hills behind and now stood on a rocky plain that stretched away as far as John could see in every direction. The landscape was empty save for the occasional twisted tree and scattered clusters of delicate, trumpet-shaped flowers, golden on the inside and pale pink on the outside.
‘We’ll be easy to spot out here,’ John said, keeping his voice low as if afraid to disturb the stillness around them.
Yusuf nodded. ‘We had best carry on.’
They walked towards the sun as it rose higher and higher, burning away the cool night air and baking the hard ground beneath their feet. Soon John’s tunic was soaked with sweat. They trudged on in silence, drinking from the waterskin when the hot desert air became too much to bear. In the afternoon, they stopped beside a stunted, gnarled tree that cast a tiny pool of shade. Yusuf took a swallow from the waterskin and then handed it to John. He tipped it back and a tiny mouthful of water ran out, then nothing. He tossed the skin aside. ‘We’re out of water.’ He gazed across the endless plain stretching out before them. The landscape wavered and shifted as heat rose from the ground. John licked his dry lips. ‘Maybe we should rest here.’
‘No, we cannot stop.’ Yusuf pointed to the ground behind them. Their footprints in the dust stretched away into the distance. ‘If the bandits decide to follow us, it will be easy enough.’
‘We won’t make it much further in this heat.’
‘We have no choice. We’ll stop when night falls. It will be harder to track us, then.’
They pushed on across the scorching desert. At first, John glanced back frequently, checking for signs of pursuit. He saw nothing, and after a few hours he ceased to care. His mouth grew so dry that he could not summon spit. His muscles burned and his thoughts slowed. He became dizzy, but he staggered on after Yusuf. Finally, the sun set behind them. Yusuf stopped. ‘That is far enough.’
Groaning with relief, John lay down and stared up at the sky. Yusuf joined him, and they lay there without speaking while the world darkened around them. The fading light took the heat with it, and the air grew chill. John began to shiver in his sweat-soaked clothes and curled up on his side. He and Yusuf huddled together, back to back, and John could feel Yusuf shaking with cold. They lay awake, too miserable to sleep.
‘Do you think we’ll reach the river tomorrow?’ John asked.
‘I-inshallah,’ Yusuf replied, teeth chattering. ‘We w-won’t make it through another day without water.’
Then John saw something in the dark — a pinprick of light. He sat up and squinted into the distance. ‘I see something. Look, there.’
‘A fire,’ Yusuf said as he sat up.
‘The bandits?’
‘Or Bedouin.’
‘They would have water,’ John said, pushing himself to his feet. He began to stumble towards the light.
‘John!’ Yusuf called. ‘If it is the bandits, then you are walking to your death.’