For a moment, as Ibn al Khaldun’s mount staggered back under the weight of the stallion’s hoofs, Alec thought the Black would break free. Then the Bedouins, fearing the fury of their leader more than they did the violent stallion, spurred their terrified mounts close to the Black until they again had him under control.
Enraged, Ibn al Khaldun glared and swore at Alec, then ordered his men to proceed.
They had not gone far when Ibn al Khaldun dropped back behind Alec. Tersely he gave orders to his men, and then said to Alec, “Ahead lies eternity, my young friend.”
In the dim light, Alec could see the cliff which came to an abrupt drop about fifty yards beyond. And behind Ibn al Khaldun the moon appeared above the rim of the mountains.
The Bedouins pressed their mounts closer to the Black. Ibn al Khaldun moved in from behind. Slowly the stallion was maneuvered toward the cliff.
Alec, his eyes on his horse’s head, heard Ibn al Khaldun say, “The time has come to pray to your God, my friend. It is but a matter of seconds.”
The sweating bodies of the Bedouins and their horses pressed closer; long, heavy crops dangled from the men’s wrists. Alec knew that in just a second … a few more yards … they would bring their whips down upon the hindquarters of the Black and beat him until they drove him over the cliff.
He had to think fast.
Another few yards. Alec watched the hands of the Bedouins upon the rope around the stallion’s neck. When they grabbed their crops there would be a fraction of a second in which only the pressure of their horses would hold the Black before they struck. It was then that he would have to act. It was his one chance of breaking free. The black mane was wet with perspiration from his clammy hands, his mouth dry and fuzzy.
The men’s hands were still on the rope when there was a dull thud of leather biting deep into flesh. Screaming in pain, the Black bolted forward. Ibn al Khaldun had struck first!
REVENGE
15
As the Black bolted forward, the Bedouins holding his head released their grips on the rope, grabbed their crops, and brought them down on the stallion.
Screaming in rage, the Black suddenly turned upon the horse to his left and descended upon it, his forelegs striking unmercifully. Alec clung like a burr to the great mane, as the Bedouin’s horse went down under the hoofs of the Black, his rider pinned beneath him. Up and down the giant stallion pounded his forelegs into the pulpy mass of flesh at his feet. Desperately, Alec tried to pull him away but could not. The Black was again a savage, ruthless killer.
Alec turned his head and saw Ibn al Khaldun; in his hand was a gun. Unsteadily, he pointed it at the Black. He cursed as his mount, crazed by the smell of blood, lurched, almost throwing him from the saddle.
Suddenly the canyon echoed with the sharp cracks of rifle fire. It rolled up the canyon in an ever increasing crescendo. Alec saw the moon high above the mountains. Raj and the warriors of Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak and Abd-al-Rahman had arrived! His gaze swept back to Ibn al Khaldun. Startled, the Bedouin had turned in his saddle toward the lower canyon.
And now the Black stood still, his nostrils quivering and his ears cocked.
Alec knew that this was his chance to get away. Burying his head in the stallion’s mane and sliding low on the huge body, he touched him with his heels.
The Black, as though released from a giant spring, swept past Ibn al Khaldun. Alec saw him jerk his head toward them, then raise his gun. His legs firm against the stallion’s girth, he bent low. A few seconds later a bullet screamed above his head, then another. Alec jerked the Black’s head and he swerved abruptly to the left. Ibn al Khaldun’s next shot was wild. There were no others.
They had not gone far when the firing suddenly ceased, and silence filled the canyon. In long, powerful strides, the Black swept over the ground, his hoofs clattering against the stones. Alec attempted to calm him by talking into the cocked ears and rubbing his hand down the long, slender neck.
They were not far from the village when Alec heard the shouts of men, their voices raised high in anger. The speed of the Black slackened and Alec peered into the darkness ahead. Gradually, the huts took shape.
When he arrived at the end of the long street, the shouting had stopped. He brought the Black to a walk, and slowly they passed the first of the huts.
He had not gone far when the figures of many men loomed in the night. Alec approached cautiously, not knowing what lay ahead. Crab-stepping, the Black whistled softly. The answering neighs of many horses filled the air. Alec brought the stallion to a halt.
A horseman approached, and Alec recognized the gray stallion of Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak. He called out, fearing that the sheikh would take him for one of Ibn al Khaldun’s men. Spurring the gray, Abu Ishak rode up to Alec. His stern face relaxed as he recognized Alec and Shêtân. “It is well you are safe, Alec,” he said. “When we did not find you we were worried.” His features clouded. “Ibn al Khaldun is not among those we have captured. Have you seen him?”
Hastily, Alec told him what had happened, and when he had finished Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak spun his gray around on its haunches. “Come,” he said.
Alec followed him back to his men, who astride their horses encircled Ibn al Khaldun’s defeated warriors. Sullenly, they stood within the circle.
Abd-al-Rahman rode up to Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak, his chestnut stallion rearing at the sight of the Black. The older sheikh motioned Alec away.
Raj suddenly appeared upon his roan. “Alec,” he said, “are you all right?”
“Sure, Raj … I’m okay. But you arrived just in time.” Then Alec told him what had happened, and that Ibn al Khaldun was somewhere up the canyon.
“They will capture him before morning,” Raj said, when Alec had finished. “Ê … yes, some of the men go now!”
A large group of men, their rifles held high in the air, drove their mounts up the canyon behind Abd-al-Rahman.
Raj whirled his roan and rode up to Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak. Alec followed.
“My brother … he goes in search of Ibn al Khaldun.” Raj’s voice was tense as he spoke to Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak. “Did he not want me to ride with him?”
“He thought it best that you stay with me,” the sheikh said. “We will take these men back to your brother’s home and there await him … and Ibn al Khaldun.” Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak turned to Alec. The stallion shook his head as Alec rubbed him behind the ears. Smiling, the sheikh said, “It is now easy for me to believe what I have heard about you and Shêtân.” He paused, then continued, “I would like to have you take him home. Some of my men will accompany you, so you have no need to fear.”
Alec nodded. “As you wish, sir,” he replied, “… but I would prefer to go along with you and Raj.”
“It is better that you go,” the sheikh insisted. His gaze shifted to Ibn al Khaldun’s men and he added, “That which lies ahead is not pleasant. They will be given the opportunity to speak for themselves, but they are murderers, outlaws all … and will be dealt with accordingly.” He stopped and then his eyes returned to Alec and Raj. “Come, let us be on our way.”
A short time later the long line of men rode down the canyon; behind them the bright flames of burning huts reached high into the blackened sky.
It was three days later that Alec, astride the Black, and the small group of men Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak had sent with him, traveled up the ravine to the narrow chasm which opened into the valley. Bending forward in his saddle, Alec wiped the white lather from the glistening neck of the Black. They had traveled fast these last three days, for the men were anxious to get back to their families. As for himself, he looked forward to seeing Henry and Mr. Volence again … yes, and Tabari, too … for he felt she would be more than interested to learn that the feud between her father and Abd-al-Rahman was over.
They entered the darkened chasm and a few minutes later emerged upon the trail overlooking the valley. Playing with his bit, the Black pranced nervously, his eyes scann
ing the floor below. His ears pricked suddenly forward as he spied a small lone group of running colts at the upper end. Then he screamed, and his wild, shrill whistle echoed throughout the valley.
Alec saw the running horses come to an abrupt halt. The Black screamed again as they made their way down the trail. Bolting, the horses came galloping toward them.
When they reached the floor, the horses were but a few hundred yards away. They had stopped and were moving nervously around in small circles, their heads and ears cocked in the direction of the Black.
Spurring their horses, the Bedouins set out for their homes at a gallop. Alec held the Black while he danced. For a moment he thrilled to the sensitive body and powerful muscles beneath him. A warm glow of confidence and pride flowed through his veins as the giant horse awaited his command.
When the others were well on their way down the valley, Alec relaxed the pressure on his knees and gave the stallion his head. With giant strides the Black gained momentum rapidly. Ahead the colts broke and ran as the stallion descended upon them. Reaching the stragglers, the Black ran close and shrilled loudly. Then with ever increasing speed he ran the others down. Reaching the colts in front, his speed slackened until they drew ahead, then, spurting, he would pass them with blinding speed only to slow down again.
Alec reveled in the tremendous speed of the stallion, as the heavy black mane flew back in his face and his eyes watered from the wind. It had been a long time since he had had the opportunity of doing this.
In a sudden burst of speed, the Black drew rapidly away from the colts. Alec crouched low against the stallion’s neck. Ahead, near the home of Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak, he saw Tabari and, standing beside her, the white filly, Jôhar.
As he neared them, Alec pulled back on the reins. The Black fought and then slowly relented, slackening his speed.
Tabari looked at Alec anxiously when he brought the Black to a stop before her. “Why have you returned with so few men?” she asked him in a strained voice. “My father. Where is he? What has happened?”
Alec smiled, dispelling her fears. “Everything is all right, Tabari,” he said, dismounting and rubbing a hand across his face. He grabbed the reins and flung them over the stallion’s head, allowing him to go over to Jôhar. Then he turned to Tabari. “Nothing is wrong. Your father will be home within a few days. I have a lot to tell you, but first I must take care of my horse. He’s had a hard ride.”
“You found him then at Abd-al-Rahman’s?” Tabari asked, her eyes saddening.
“No, Tabari,” Alec replied. “Abd-al-Rahman didn’t steal him. He is now your father’s friend rather than his enemy. But I’d rather tell you the whole story from the beginning. Call Henry and Mr. Volence and I’ll meet you in the library in a few minutes, when I return from the stables.”
As Alec led the Black away, Tabari said, “The men at the stables … they will take care of him, Alec.”
“I’d rather do it, Tabari.”
Understanding, the girl nodded and walked quickly toward the house.
PLAIN OF ANDULLA
16
That evening after dinner Henry, Mr. Volence, Tabari and Alec walked out on the long veranda. It seemed to Alec that Tabari’s eyes shone as they never had before. Her full lips parted as she said, with a smile, “You probably have much to talk over with Alec, so I’ll leave you alone.” Without waiting for them to reply, she turned and walked down the steps.
Alec was wondering if it was not she who wanted to be alone, when Henry said, “Boy, you sure get into things, don’t you?”
“It’s okay”—Alec laughed—“so long as I can get out of them after I’m in. Luck’s been with me so far.”
Mr. Volence’s face was somber. “It’s fortunate that you’re young, Alec,” he said quietly, “and can laugh at things like that. Pretty serious business, though, and I’m thankful to God you came through it. Your arm … you’re sure it’s coming along all right?”
“Yes,” Alec said, raising his injured arm, “a few more days and it’ll be as good as ever.”
Henry sat on the railing. “Do you think they’ll have much trouble runnin’ down Ibn al Khaldun?” he asked.
Alec’s voice was solemn. “I hope not, Henry … but he’s a slippery guy and treacherous, as we all know. Still, he’ll have to move fast to get away from Abd-al-Rahman and his men.” Alec withdrew the gold chain and medallion from his pocket and studied the figure of the large bird.
“Then it is the Phoenix,” Mr. Volence said quietly.
“Yes,” Alec replied. “It was their symbol … for like the Phoenix, Ibn al Khaldun hoped to rise to power.”
“But to destroy and kill,” muttered Henry.
They sat silently in the darkness of the veranda. After several minutes Mr. Volence said, “I don’t suppose Raj will return to Haribwan.”
“No, I’m certain he won’t,” Alec replied. “He’ll want to stay with his brother.”
“Funny world,” growled Henry. “Wait’ll we tell Mr. Coggins that his houseboy turned out to be Abd-al-Rahman’s brother.”
Alec looked at them anxiously. “You two sound as though we’ll be leaving before long,” he said.
Smiling, Mr. Volence said, “Not until after the race, anyway, Alec.”
“Tabari told us she was certain her father’d see to it that we got back okay,” Henry informed Alec. He paused to light his pipe, then added, “If the Black wins maybe Abu Ishak will let us have a couple of horses, as Tabari told you, remember?”
“Yes, I remember,” Alec nodded. “How long before the race?” His gaze turned to the moon which hung low over the valley. It was in the last quarter, and the day of the new moon was not far off.
Henry’s voice came to him. “Three days from tomorrow, according to Tabari.”
Alec looked fixedly at Henry. “But what if Abu Ishak doesn’t return in time … and Abd-al-Rahman … there’s no telling where his chase of Ibn al Khaldun will lead, or how long it’ll take.”
“We mentioned that same thing to her tonight after dinner,” Henry said, looking at Mr. Volence; then turning to Alec he added, “She said neither of ’em would miss the race … seemed pretty positive about it, too.”
Alec sat down on the railing beside Henry. He was silent a moment and then he looked up at Mr. Volence, whom he found watching him. Alec’s eyes turned to Henry; his eyes, too, were upon him. His gaze shifted from one to the other, then coming to rest upon Mr. Volence he asked, “Had you thought about Abu Ishak not having a rider for the race?”
Mr. Volence nodded. “Yes,” he said quietly, “we had thought about it.”
“Do you think,” Alec asked, “there’s any chance of my riding?”
Henry rose from the railing. “We were gonna ask you that, Alec.” He paused. “Abu Ishak let you ride the Black back home, didn’t he? And it was you who got him away from Ibn al Khaldun. Seems to me he’d let you ride. After all, he’s in a spot, isn’t he? Who else can ride that black devil, anyway?”
Alec’s head reeled at the thought of being able to ride his horse in the race against Sagr. Never in the world would there be anything to equal it. His eager eyes met Henry’s. “Maybe, Henry,” he said, “… maybe.”
Two days later Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak returned with his men. He dismounted from his gray and made his way toward the house. Alec noticed that his face was grave. Tabari threw her arms around him and his taut face relaxed for a moment, then sobered again as he greeted them.
“Was Ibn al Khaldun captured?” Alec asked.
Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak shook his head. “Abd-al-Rahman returned without him.… His men were still searching when I left, but they, too, will return in time for the race. When it is finished we will set out again and by Allah the sun will not set until we have found him.”
“… and the others? His men?” Alec asked.
“It is over for them,” Abu Ishak replied briefly. Then, turning, he walked into the house.
An hour later Alec was s
ummoned to Abu Ishak’s bedroom. When he entered, the sheikh, who was sitting in a large chair by the window, turned toward him and said, “Come in, Alec. I wish to talk with you.” He motioned toward the chair opposite him.
Alec sat down and waited for Abu Ishak to speak. Thoughtfully, the sheikh gazed out of the window, then without looking at Alec he said softly, “I would like to know, Alec, if you would consent to ride Shêtân in the race the day after tomorrow.”
The blood rushed to Alec’s face as he leaped from his chair. “G-Gosh! I sure would, sir! It’s what I’ve been hoping for all along!” He stood over the sheikh, his voice high with unrestrained emotion.
Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak smiled as he looked at Alec, then his face sobered. “It will not be an easy ride,” he said. “The best horses in Arabia will be entered, and the men riding them will be the finest of our horsemen.”
Alec nodded and sat down again in his chair. “Who will be up on Sagr?” he asked.
“Abd-al-Rahman, for no other has ever ridden him.” He paused, then added, “Shêtân must be at his best to win … of that much I am certain, for I know the speed and endurance of Sagr.”
“What is the distance of the race?” Alec asked. His face had lost its boyishness, and an intense seriousness was written on his countenance. He had complete confidence in the Black, but in a race such as this many things could happen.
“The course is four miles,” Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak told him.
“And the terrain?” Alec asked.
“It varies,” the sheikh said, “from grass-swept plains to the desert, from rocky mountainous trails to brush-covered flats. The course was laid out by our people to test the courage and hearts of our horses, not speed and endurance alone.”
Alec remained silent when Abu Ja‘ Kub ben Ishak had finished. Finally, he said confidently, “The Black, Shêtân, has the heart.”
The sheikh nodded. “Yes, I think he has, Alec … it has been bred into him, and I do not think he will disappoint us.” He rose from his chair and walked to the window. “My people feast tonight in celebration of the coming race. They have great faith in Shêtân, and much will be wagered with other tribesmen. We must not fail them, as we have in other races.” He turned to Alec. “We will leave tomorrow morning, and before sundown will arrive at the Plain of Andulla where the race takes place. Your friends will be eager to go, so please tell them to be ready.”