This story was written for a school project so don't flame me for the bad storyline. All the characters were made up by me and are © to me, except Ahmed. This fiction tells the story of Ahmed as he travels back to Baghdad, written as a sequel to the film.
For the umpteenth time, Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan cursed the raging sand that whipped around him. He hated sandstorms. Acursed sand! It got everywhere: in his eyes, in his ears, even down his cloak. Sometimes he almost missed the mud and filth of the north. Even so, would be glad to get back to Baghdad and finally be clean again.
'Ahmed! Maybe we should stop now…' A disembodied voice echoed through the sand. It took a while for Ahmed to realise who the man was talking to. He had grown so used to being called 'Eban' or 'Little Brother' by the Northerners that he had almost forgotten his real name. He checked around to make sure the other members of his party were still visible and shouted his approval.
Wearily, the five men turned back until they were all huddled together, blocking out most of the sand from their faces. Nevertheless, they still had to shout to make themselves heard.
'We're lost!' Wailed one man. 'We'll never make it to Baghdad!'
'If Allah wills it, we will live.' Returned Ahmed, perhaps a little louder than was needed. If he had survived the Wendol attacks, he was going to live through a sandstorm!
'Jahwar is right, Ahmed.' A second man argued. 'Do you know where we are?'
Ahmed was silent. It was true: he didn't know where they were. But once the sand had cleared and the sun had risen, he would be able to tell which way it was to Baghdad. Whether they could find food and water was a different matter. Being lost in a vast desert is dangerous when you leave the trail. Goodness knows how long it would take them to find supplies, or how far off the track they had wandered.
'Set up camp,' He told the weary faces in front of him. 'We can do nothing until morning.'
Grudgingly the men dropped the argument and fought their way through the sand to the camels. Ahmed watched them thoughtfully. When he had met these men, all those long weeks ago, he had thought that all his prayers had been answered. A hard-working crew of determined Arabs, all looking to return to Baghdad, just like him. He would simply slip in at the back and follow their lead, helping here and there with food and water, but generally staying in the background. He didn't want people knowing about the months he had spent with the Northerners. People may begin to think he was cursed.
But things hadn't worked out as planned. As soon as the other men had seen how skilled
Ahmed was at survival skills, and how, sometimes, in a dire situation, he knew exactly what to do, they had elected him leader. At first, Ahmed had strongly objected, but the other men just took him for granted. Whenever they wanted to do something, they went to Ahmed, or when they needed a final decision, they looked to him. Finally, Ahmed had reluctantly agreed, but sometimes he still felt uncomfortable. His place was with them – working hard and obeying, not above them.
Ahmed sighed, and went to help the men, who weren't being very successful with the shelter. Sometimes they really needed his help.
Ahmed woke to the familiar smell of a fresh, new sunrise. With his eyes still closed, he breathed in deeply. Then he shot into a sitting position and his eyes sprung open in anger. Sunrise! They should have started out hours ago, before the day got warmed up! Silently, Ahmed cursed himself. This could add a whole day or more to their travelling time. Some great leader he was! Hurriedly, he scrambled to his feet and shook the others awake. Moans erupted from all around the shelter as the tired men woke up. Ahmed scowled. If these men wanted him as a leader, they were going to have to learn discipline.
Ahmed quickly grabbed the gourd of water and went around the shelter dumping a load on each mans' face. This time screams were heard as the startled men jumped up. By the time he got to the last man, everyone was fully awake. Ahmed smiled.
'That was a nice treatment!' He barked, mockingly. 'Next time I'll put scorpions in your beds!'
The men looked at the floor, ashamed, until Ahmed started laughing. Slowly, they all joined in and started their duties to prepare for the day's journey with a smile.
Hours later, Ahmed began to regret his rash actions to wake the men up. They had not found a single hint of water all day, and the water that was left was running out. Although there was no sand blowing around their faces today, in fact, there was no wind at all, the sun was beating down mercilessly and the men needed water at regular intervals. They had been travelling non-stop. Ahmed wanted to make up for the lost time he had wasted sleeping in, and they were all paying.
Eventually he called a halt. Panting and sweating, the men sheltered under the shade of a rock, the only landmark that could be seen for miles. The camels lumbered to a stop and sat down, resting from their heavy load. Ahmed checked the water. There was only enough for a couple more hours. He turned to the men. They were watching him expectantly, some of the younger ones begging him with their eyes for a relief to their thirst. It wasn't going to be easy telling them that they couldn't.
'There is not enough water left.' He looked up at the sky and then down to his feet. 'We must carry on without it.'
There was a shocked silence. No one knew what to say. They had all been relying on Ahmed and he had failed them. At the last village, hadn't they collected more than enough water for several days? Realisation dawned and horror spread on the men's faces as they remembered what Ahmed had done with it all that morning.
One man drew his sword.
'You!' He howled, pointing it at Ahmed. Ahmed quickly grabbed his own sword.
'Do not challenge me, Sayyid.' He warned. Ahmed had far more skill and practice in sword fighting that any of the other men. He would beat Sayyid easily. But he was a member of his group. How could he fight him?
Sayyid swung his sword. Ahmed parried the blow and stepped backwards.
'Stop! How will this make things better?'
But Sayyid didn't stop. The light of fury was in his eyes. This man had betrayed them all in his stupid anger at their sleepiness and he was going to pay! He thrust the sword again.
Ahmed was at a loss of what to do. If he fought, it would make him lose moisture quicker, and lose them time to search for water. If he didn't fight back, Sayyid would kill him. If he quickly ended the fight with Sayyid's death, would the other men then turn on him? Or leave him?
Ahmed blocked and pushed Sayyid backwards. He stumbled, but didn't fall. Nearby the four other men watched, frightened, their faces white and drawn, wondering who to support. Both men had done wrong. Their leader had not taken care of them properly, but Sayyid had attacked another member of the party, something they had all sworn not to do at the beginning of the journey.
Sayyid roared with annoyance and ran for Ahmed, head down and sword pointed. Ahmed sidestepped and threw himself towards the ground. Sayyid's flailing leg flashed in front of him. He grabbed the foot and pulled. Sayyid fell sprawling and his sword clattered to the ground. He twisted on the ground, snarling. Ahmed advanced to put his sword against his throat. Sayyid lay still.
'You are not helping us, Sayyid! Stop -'
Ahmed cried out as Sayyid's leg shot out and cracked into his arm. His sword flew through the air and landed next to Sayyid. Grinning, the younger man picked it up. Ahmed backed away, cursing. He knew he was cornered. With no weapon and an injured arm, he was at a great disadvantage. Gritting his teeth, he judged distances.
Sayyid stood up and began walking slowly towards Ahmed. He knew he had won and was going to enjoy every minute of it. Ahmed watched Sayyid warily. As soon as he was close enough, he began to back away again, but this time curving slightly towards him. The two were circling each other. As soon as Ahmed was where he wanted to be, he yelled. As he suspected, Sayyid thought Ahmed was about to attack and lunged with Ahmed's sword. At the same time, Ahmed rolled backwards. Ignoring the jabs of pain in his arm, he kept rolling back. Sayyid hadn't expected Ahmed to move so fast. His thrust had brought his whole weight down and he thumped to the floor again. With a howl of fury, he leapt up and ran towards Ahmed. Ahmed kept going. Skidding to a halt, he picked up Sayyid's discarded sword.
Sayyid stopped. He knew he couldn't beat Ahmed in a duel. The fight was going out of him as the sun beat down harder and the light of fury was fading. With a look a great contempt at Ahmed, he threw the sword away.
Ahmed darted it to pick it up. After making sure it wasn't damaged, he smiled grimly and put it back into it's sheath. He glanced at the shocked faces of the rest of the group.
'Set up camp.' He ordered. 'We shall rest here.' Turning away from Sayyid, Ahmed marched behind the rock, leaving the others to sort things out.
Things were definitely not going as planned. Sighing, he slumped down. The sharp pain reminded him of his arm. He would need to bandage that. Ahmed closed his eyes and lay his head against the cool, damp face of the rock. He was exhausted. Soon the sun carried him off to sleep.
The next thing Ahmed knew, he was being shaken awake. Blearily, he squinted open his eyes and shook his head.
'Ahmed! Wake up, Ahmed!' At the sound of a voice, Ahmed sat up and opened his eyes properly. He was surprised to see he was in a tent. He was also pleased to see that his arm was in a sling. Someone must have brought him. He twisted around to see who the speaker was.
'Ahmed, you must come and see!' Jahwar was kneeling beside him, his eyes shining. 'You have found water!' Ahmed shook his head again. How had he found water? He had been asleep! He quickly jumped up and followed Jahwar outside.
The other men were crowded around the rock and Ahmed could hear water splashing. Jahwar quickly explained.
'I came to find you an hour ago, after the fight. You were asleep, so I was going to bring you in. Your clothes were wet. I thought you were hurt at first, but after you were in the tent I checked the rock and underneath it was full of fresh water!' Ahmed looked up, amazed. He had just had a fight over water, and all the time it was right under their nose! He looked at Jahwar's excited face and, relenting slightly, he smiled. He joined the other men splashing and washing themselves. It was only when he was drying himself did he realise that he couldn't see Sayyid.
Looking around, Ahmed started to get worried. He knew it was stupid, but he thought that he should go and say sorry for humiliating him in front of the others. Ahmed quickly left the others and walked around the rock. He finally found Sayyid in the only place where the rock cast a shadow.
'Sayyid!' He called. Sayyid didn't move. He stood deathly still, head down and eyes wide open. Ahmed stopped, confused, then started walking towards him again.
'Sayyid? I've come to -' He froze, and a bitter-tasting fear shot him in the chest. Now he could see why Sayyid was so still. There was a giant snake at his feet.
As slowly as he could, Sayyid raised his head until he faced Ahmed Frantically he started mouthing: help me! Ahmed shook his head to unfreeze it, then wished he hadn't. The snake caught the movement and lifted it's ugly head. It's tongue flicked out and Ahmed could just make out the sharp teeth that lined the roof of it's mouth. He didn't know much about animals, but he could tell they were full of poison.
Ahmed closed his eyes and waited for his heart to stop beating so fast. When he opened them, they were full of grim determination. Here was a way to get Sayyid to trust him again. Slowly, carefully, he reached for his sword. If he could throw the sword and hit the snake in the soft spot below the neck, it would die immediately. But if he missed, it would anger the snake even more, and it would attack either Sayyid or himself.
Ahmed finished bringing the sword out and, closing one eye, aimed carefully. He only had one shot at this. When Sayyid saw what he was doing, his eyes widened in fear, and he pressed himself against the rock, with his eyes tight shut. Ahmed drew back his arm and threw the sword his all his might.
As soon as he threw it, Ahmed knew he had missed. Instead of going straight it had veered of at a slight angle. It came as a great surprise when he heard the snake scream. He looked up. Sayyid had only just thrown himself out of the way of the sword in time. The snake had leapt for him, but as the sword fell, it had pinned down the snake's tail, leaving it thrashing around in pain, but still alive. Sayyid lay on the ground just out of the way of the snake, hunched up and trying to blink away tears of fear that had sprung to his eyes. Ahmed collapsed to the ground as the adrenalin leaked away, leaving him feeling shaky and weak.
He heard shouting as the other man appeared from around the rock. They took in the situation immediately and one of them picked up a rock and threw it at the snake, hitting it squarely under the jaw. The snake fell, twitched and lay still.
Ahmed barely knew what happened next. In a slight daze, he felt himself being carried back to the tent and after murmuring a brief thanks, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Ahmed woke in the middle of the night. Someone was standing over him. He grimaced and sat up, squinting through the darkness. It was Sayyid.
'I...I...' He stuttered. 'I wanted to...' Ahmed smiled.
'You feel bad about yesterday? Do not. It was both of our faults. Rest now. We are close to Baghdad.' A look of immense relief swept over Sayyid's face. He nodded his thanks and crept back to his bed. Ahmed settled down again and slept with a smile.
The next day Ahmed woke everyone up on time and they were well on their way by the time the sun came up. Slowly, but surely, first appearing as a speck, but then growing recognisable, some large sand dunes loomed up out of the heat haze. The group stopped.
'Ahmed, the dunes are too wide to go around.' One man suggested. 'It will take longer to go around than over.'
'No!' Exclaimed another man. 'We do not know these dunes. They could be unstable and collapse at the top.'
Ahmed studied the dunes. Indeed, they were wide, and going around them could take days. He didn't know how far it was over the top, though, and that could take longer.
'We will carry on for now. We will decide when we are closer.'
Soon it became apparent that the climb up the sand dunes was not as steep or dangerous at had first appeared. There were plants holding the sand together, and the closer they got to the dunes, the wider they seemed to get. They decided to go over.
The wind picked up as they trudged their way to the top. Every so often they had to stop as someone scooped sand out of their eyes. The dust the camels picked up was worse and soon everyone was walking in front of them. Most kept their heads down and eyes as slits, just open enough to see where they were going. The sky was pure blue and the sun was shining like a ball of solid gold in the sky. Ahmed could almost feel someone telling him that today was the day.
Suddenly, the sand ended and they reached the top of the mound. Ahmed felt an inexplicable feeling in his chest, like his heart rising hopefully to his throat, and further, until complete joy seemed to explode from his head. Slowly he looked up and his eyes told him what his heart already knew. Baghdad had appeared on the horizon.