Desert Queen by Ashley Wren (bill gates books to read txt) 📕
Excerpt from the book:
"...I knew very well that crossing the desert was dangerous, even with the protection of Uncle and the caravan. I was aware of the intense, sweltering heat during the day and the frigid temperatures at night. I remember the men telling me the barren desert was no place for a young lady of my standing and trying to frighten me with stories of unruly bandits, deadly quicksand, and poisonous snakes. Though all of these things worried me, I refused to be intimidated. I lied, saying that I wasn't afraid and, after much debating, the men finally agreed to accept my company. After all, the leader of the caravan WAS my uncle..."
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- Author: Ashley Wren
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make fans out of our food packages or anything else we could find. At this time of day, when the sun is at its highest, one will do anything in desperation to escape the heat.
I felt my skin beginning to burn from the sun’s harsh rays and knew I would be unbearably sore later. I moved under the shade of the rest tent with everyone else in attempt to protect my skin. In the far corner I saw Ashraf deep in conversation with one of the other men, Kazim. As I was studying him, he glanced up and met my eyes; I quickly averted my gaze. I remained as far away from him as possible for the rest of the break.
When everyone was through with lunch and the camels were well-rested, we packed up our things and set out again. It was three o’clock when we finally left. By then, the temperature was at least 100 degrees and we had given up hope of staying cool. Miserably, we succumbed to the heat as beads of sweat rolled off our foreheads.
Each step of the camels brought us farther and farther into the barren desert. There was nothing but sand for miles around us. There were no signs of life as far as we could see, except for the occasional lizard skittering across the sand. The land was empty and desolate; the air was still and heavy. There was an unbearable silence that seemed to last an eternity before it was finally broken by a few of the men; they had begun to sing an old Arabic song that seemed vaguely familiar to me. After a few lines, I began to sing along, not knowing where the words were coming from.
“Through dark and light
And desert heat
I bring myself
To move my feet
Fret not, my dear
I’ll be there soon
To light your night
Like the midnight moon
A world of light
And love I bring
I come for you
My desert queen…”
For some reason unbeknownst to me, the enchanting song brought a tear to my eye. I blinked it away, wondering how I had known the lyrics to this mysterious song. When I asked Uncle why the song was so familiar, he told me it was an old tune that my jaddah* had once sung to me, before she passed on many years ago. He said she called me her, “desert queen.”
Lost in memory of my grandmother, I was in another world. Before I knew it, hours had gone by. I was awoken from my reverie when Uncle stopped Tatuk. He signaled for everyone to gather around with a raise of his hand.
“Now, I don’t mean to alarm anyone,” he began, “but we have been riding for quite some time, and it seems we should have hit Touggourt by now…”
“What are you saying Mahdi?” Ragab asked nervously.
“Don’t tell me we’re lost,” Maher added.
“No no, we’re not lost,” Uncle reassured them. “Just a little off course is all.”
“Off course?!” Ashraf shouted. “What do you mean ‘off course’?” Uncle looked to the sky, clearly avoiding the question.
“I think it best if we stopped here for tonight and set up camp; it will be getting dark within the hour anyway. We’ll sleep here for now and reassess the situation in the morning.”
At Uncle’s command, we dismounted our camels and began to set up camp. There were seven tents, two men in each and one for myself. We arranged the tents in a circle, with mine closest to the middle for protection. We also made a fire pit in the very center in anticipation of the cold once the sun went down. Uncle and I arranged blankets on the sand around the fire and put up the rest tent just outside of the circle.
We had camp completely set just before sundown. One of the men lit a fire while I went to get dinner ready. Dinner was mostly made up of granola and dried meat, but it was all we could ask for with the incredible heat; we talked as we ate.
“So where exactly do you think we are, Mahdi?” Kazim asked.
“Not where we’re supposed to be,” Uncle answered tersely.
“How are we ever going to get back on course?” Ragab wanted to know.
“Trust me gentlemen,” Uncle reassured them. “In the morning I will be able to tell where we are. I’ve brought a map; all I need is the sun.” This seemed to satisfy the rest of the group. They went back to their dinner; Maher began to tell stories.
“I remember a story my father once told me,” he began. “He and my grandfather were in a situation like this once. They were trying to get to Annaba, but got lost in the desert. They were lost for days, he said.”
“How did they find their way back?” I asked.
“Ah, a group of Bedouins found them just in time. They had just run out of water when the nomads came through. My father and grandfather were terrified at first, worried that the Bedouins would take what little they had and leave them to die there.”
“So what happened?” I urged.
“They said the Bedouins showed them the way to get back to Saida. After that experience, my father never set foot in the barren desert again.”
“What about your grandfather?” I asked. Maher’s face grew solemn.
“He passed away a few days after their return.” I gasped.
“Maher… I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be,” he assured me. “My father says it was a curse. He swears that the Bedouins were actually witches who cast a spell on my grandfather. He says Grandpa’s life was a sacrifice for their safe return.” I shivered and glanced around at the darkness surrounding me. Seeing my reaction, Maher chuckled.
“Don’t worry Azeezee*,” he said. “I don’t think there will be any witches showing up tonight.” With this, Uncle stood.
“Alright,” he announced. “We should all try and get some sleep. We leave before sun-up.”
Everyone went to their tents. Soon the lanterns were being put out, and the last bits of chatter died away; everything was silent. I changed out of my sun dress and into my nightgown, and then put out my lantern as well. I was exhausted from the day’s journey and was happy to finally be able to lie down and rest.
While my body was exhausted, my mind was restless and refused to let me sleep. It was racing with horrible thoughts. I didn’t let anyone see, but the thought of being lost in the desert terrified me, and Maher’s story about witches and curses made it all the worse. I couldn’t help picturing the thirteen of us, dying off one by one. I saw us running out of water and perishing in the desert heat, or being attacked by thieves and left for dead.
Eventually, my mind, running out of things to worry about, calmed down and finally let me rest. It was so blissfully silent that, once my thoughts were quiet, I had no problem drifting off to sleep. I felt sleep wash over me and was about to give myself away to it when I was abruptly awoken by a horrible shriek piercing the silence. Horrified, I shot up in bed and immediately rushed out of my tent. Lanterns were turning on and everyone was running from their tents and toward the scene of the disturbance; the shriek had come from Ashraf and Kazim’s tent.
I entered the tent to investigate, followed by Uncle and Maher. I saw Ashraf, panic-stricken, bent over Kazim, who was lying on the ground, shaking violently. Uncle pushed me behind him and ran to the two, kneeling at Kazim’s side.
“What happened here?!” he shouted. Ashraf, too panicked to speak, simply pointed to a spot on Kazim’s leg. There was a red, inflamed spot on his leg that was swelling larger by the second. Uncle bent closer to examine the wound. I watched in horror as Kazim began to convulse and writhe in agony. The color drained from Uncle’s face.
“Uncle!” I cried, horrified. “What is it? What’s the matter with him?”
“He’s been stung… by a scorpion.” Kazim let out a horrible cry of anguish and began to shake harder.
“He’s in so much pain!” I shouted. “What can we do??” I ran to Uncle’s side and dropped to my knees over Kazim. Uncle’s expression grew strangely serene.
“I’m afraid,” he began, “there’s nothing we can do.” He put a hand on Kazim’s shoulder and closed his eyes. I could hear him chanting an old Arabic hymn. He was praying for Allah to grant Kazim a peaceful life after death. I buried my head in my hands and began to cry as Kazim’s convulsing grew less and less. Soon he was still and I saw Uncle close his eyelids.
“My friends… on this night we have lost a great man. Though our hearts are sore now, we know that he will be with Allah, watching over us as we complete our journey through this hostile desert that has taken a great life. Rest assured it will take no more.”
I began to cry harder; Ragab came to my side and helped me to my feet. He brought me outside and sat with me while I attempted to regain my composure. It took me nearly an hour to do so. By the time I was calm, the men had all moved outside around the fire. We sat in sullen silence for a long time. Half an hour passed before Uncle broke the silence once more.
“Let us return to our tents, everyone, and as we are drifting off to sleep, let us remember our friend and pray to Allah to protect him in his journey to the other side.” We all went to our tents; Ashraf went to spend the night with Ragab and Hani. Though we were silent, none of us got much sleep that night.
When sleep finally did come, it was fitfully so; I tossed and turned all through the night. The dream I had that night, I will never forget.
I was walking through the desert, completely alone. The sun was high in the sky and the air was thick. I had no idea how long I had been walking or where I was going. All I remember was something pulling me farther and farther into the desert
I felt my skin beginning to burn from the sun’s harsh rays and knew I would be unbearably sore later. I moved under the shade of the rest tent with everyone else in attempt to protect my skin. In the far corner I saw Ashraf deep in conversation with one of the other men, Kazim. As I was studying him, he glanced up and met my eyes; I quickly averted my gaze. I remained as far away from him as possible for the rest of the break.
When everyone was through with lunch and the camels were well-rested, we packed up our things and set out again. It was three o’clock when we finally left. By then, the temperature was at least 100 degrees and we had given up hope of staying cool. Miserably, we succumbed to the heat as beads of sweat rolled off our foreheads.
Each step of the camels brought us farther and farther into the barren desert. There was nothing but sand for miles around us. There were no signs of life as far as we could see, except for the occasional lizard skittering across the sand. The land was empty and desolate; the air was still and heavy. There was an unbearable silence that seemed to last an eternity before it was finally broken by a few of the men; they had begun to sing an old Arabic song that seemed vaguely familiar to me. After a few lines, I began to sing along, not knowing where the words were coming from.
“Through dark and light
And desert heat
I bring myself
To move my feet
Fret not, my dear
I’ll be there soon
To light your night
Like the midnight moon
A world of light
And love I bring
I come for you
My desert queen…”
For some reason unbeknownst to me, the enchanting song brought a tear to my eye. I blinked it away, wondering how I had known the lyrics to this mysterious song. When I asked Uncle why the song was so familiar, he told me it was an old tune that my jaddah* had once sung to me, before she passed on many years ago. He said she called me her, “desert queen.”
Lost in memory of my grandmother, I was in another world. Before I knew it, hours had gone by. I was awoken from my reverie when Uncle stopped Tatuk. He signaled for everyone to gather around with a raise of his hand.
“Now, I don’t mean to alarm anyone,” he began, “but we have been riding for quite some time, and it seems we should have hit Touggourt by now…”
“What are you saying Mahdi?” Ragab asked nervously.
“Don’t tell me we’re lost,” Maher added.
“No no, we’re not lost,” Uncle reassured them. “Just a little off course is all.”
“Off course?!” Ashraf shouted. “What do you mean ‘off course’?” Uncle looked to the sky, clearly avoiding the question.
“I think it best if we stopped here for tonight and set up camp; it will be getting dark within the hour anyway. We’ll sleep here for now and reassess the situation in the morning.”
At Uncle’s command, we dismounted our camels and began to set up camp. There were seven tents, two men in each and one for myself. We arranged the tents in a circle, with mine closest to the middle for protection. We also made a fire pit in the very center in anticipation of the cold once the sun went down. Uncle and I arranged blankets on the sand around the fire and put up the rest tent just outside of the circle.
We had camp completely set just before sundown. One of the men lit a fire while I went to get dinner ready. Dinner was mostly made up of granola and dried meat, but it was all we could ask for with the incredible heat; we talked as we ate.
“So where exactly do you think we are, Mahdi?” Kazim asked.
“Not where we’re supposed to be,” Uncle answered tersely.
“How are we ever going to get back on course?” Ragab wanted to know.
“Trust me gentlemen,” Uncle reassured them. “In the morning I will be able to tell where we are. I’ve brought a map; all I need is the sun.” This seemed to satisfy the rest of the group. They went back to their dinner; Maher began to tell stories.
“I remember a story my father once told me,” he began. “He and my grandfather were in a situation like this once. They were trying to get to Annaba, but got lost in the desert. They were lost for days, he said.”
“How did they find their way back?” I asked.
“Ah, a group of Bedouins found them just in time. They had just run out of water when the nomads came through. My father and grandfather were terrified at first, worried that the Bedouins would take what little they had and leave them to die there.”
“So what happened?” I urged.
“They said the Bedouins showed them the way to get back to Saida. After that experience, my father never set foot in the barren desert again.”
“What about your grandfather?” I asked. Maher’s face grew solemn.
“He passed away a few days after their return.” I gasped.
“Maher… I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be,” he assured me. “My father says it was a curse. He swears that the Bedouins were actually witches who cast a spell on my grandfather. He says Grandpa’s life was a sacrifice for their safe return.” I shivered and glanced around at the darkness surrounding me. Seeing my reaction, Maher chuckled.
“Don’t worry Azeezee*,” he said. “I don’t think there will be any witches showing up tonight.” With this, Uncle stood.
“Alright,” he announced. “We should all try and get some sleep. We leave before sun-up.”
Everyone went to their tents. Soon the lanterns were being put out, and the last bits of chatter died away; everything was silent. I changed out of my sun dress and into my nightgown, and then put out my lantern as well. I was exhausted from the day’s journey and was happy to finally be able to lie down and rest.
While my body was exhausted, my mind was restless and refused to let me sleep. It was racing with horrible thoughts. I didn’t let anyone see, but the thought of being lost in the desert terrified me, and Maher’s story about witches and curses made it all the worse. I couldn’t help picturing the thirteen of us, dying off one by one. I saw us running out of water and perishing in the desert heat, or being attacked by thieves and left for dead.
Eventually, my mind, running out of things to worry about, calmed down and finally let me rest. It was so blissfully silent that, once my thoughts were quiet, I had no problem drifting off to sleep. I felt sleep wash over me and was about to give myself away to it when I was abruptly awoken by a horrible shriek piercing the silence. Horrified, I shot up in bed and immediately rushed out of my tent. Lanterns were turning on and everyone was running from their tents and toward the scene of the disturbance; the shriek had come from Ashraf and Kazim’s tent.
I entered the tent to investigate, followed by Uncle and Maher. I saw Ashraf, panic-stricken, bent over Kazim, who was lying on the ground, shaking violently. Uncle pushed me behind him and ran to the two, kneeling at Kazim’s side.
“What happened here?!” he shouted. Ashraf, too panicked to speak, simply pointed to a spot on Kazim’s leg. There was a red, inflamed spot on his leg that was swelling larger by the second. Uncle bent closer to examine the wound. I watched in horror as Kazim began to convulse and writhe in agony. The color drained from Uncle’s face.
“Uncle!” I cried, horrified. “What is it? What’s the matter with him?”
“He’s been stung… by a scorpion.” Kazim let out a horrible cry of anguish and began to shake harder.
“He’s in so much pain!” I shouted. “What can we do??” I ran to Uncle’s side and dropped to my knees over Kazim. Uncle’s expression grew strangely serene.
“I’m afraid,” he began, “there’s nothing we can do.” He put a hand on Kazim’s shoulder and closed his eyes. I could hear him chanting an old Arabic hymn. He was praying for Allah to grant Kazim a peaceful life after death. I buried my head in my hands and began to cry as Kazim’s convulsing grew less and less. Soon he was still and I saw Uncle close his eyelids.
“My friends… on this night we have lost a great man. Though our hearts are sore now, we know that he will be with Allah, watching over us as we complete our journey through this hostile desert that has taken a great life. Rest assured it will take no more.”
I began to cry harder; Ragab came to my side and helped me to my feet. He brought me outside and sat with me while I attempted to regain my composure. It took me nearly an hour to do so. By the time I was calm, the men had all moved outside around the fire. We sat in sullen silence for a long time. Half an hour passed before Uncle broke the silence once more.
“Let us return to our tents, everyone, and as we are drifting off to sleep, let us remember our friend and pray to Allah to protect him in his journey to the other side.” We all went to our tents; Ashraf went to spend the night with Ragab and Hani. Though we were silent, none of us got much sleep that night.
When sleep finally did come, it was fitfully so; I tossed and turned all through the night. The dream I had that night, I will never forget.
I was walking through the desert, completely alone. The sun was high in the sky and the air was thick. I had no idea how long I had been walking or where I was going. All I remember was something pulling me farther and farther into the desert
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