This is a rough draft of of a story I am writing. Let me know if you like it please.
Title: The wild Arabian Author:SwanSongSurreal Characters: not named as of yet-suggestions are appreciated Rated: T Warning: none so far
Summary: A story of a shepherd boy and a wild stallion in the desert.
1
A caravan travels in the desert. In the crashing wind and grunts of the camels this poem is sung.
"With nostrils flared the sleek bedouin stallion kicks his sinewy legs into the dust stirring up a cloud.
He sounds a loud whinny to the herd and snorts waiting behind the large sand dune to gather in a crowd.
Wild Arabian mares with colts, yearlings and fillies thunder up the bank toward their jet black guide They are wild and spirited. They kick, shove and bite nervously with their eyes opened wide.
They are nimble and know how to read the desert and are careful not to fall into the quick sand.
They are resilient able to withstand the hot searing desert heat and the cold winds and sand stormy land.
They are strong able to travel over 200 kilometers per day and their endurance is that of a superior athelete.
They have the best gait of all desert beings. In gallop the sand barely shifts under the hooves on their feet.
The herd now follow the black stallion up a trail that leads to a tiny grove of acacia palms.
They lift their delicate heads up to the wind smelling water and whinny out a throaty loud alm.
They can't see it yet but just past the palm trees is a hidden oasis right round the bend.
The wild beasts pick up their slow pace and gallop now with manes flowing in the wind.
A young shepard boy guarding his flock sits up and watches them glide like ghosts in the arabian night.
He has never seen such grace, such beauty than these horses proud holding their heads high without fright.
He stands and they begin to fade over the last dune. He watches the black one who rides faster than the wind.
He stretches and strains on his sandals watcing the herd in a cloud of dust and waves his arms for a prayer to lend.
The boy has seen thieves on his journeys through the desert so remote and so old.
He is leary first of his flock but wonders if the horses will all be caught and sold.
He knows an oasis is supposed to be a safe place for travellers far and wide.
but will the horses have any rights like those of nomads to drink as others step aside.
He sits again and listenes to the wind. He watches the stars. He sits and watches his sheep.
The poor shepard boy does not move. He does not speak. He just sits there and does not go to sleep.
He hears in the sands the grunts of camels. He turns to see a caravan approaching over the dunes east..
He looks and counts eight men who dismount and stand in a group talking about a great feast.
The shepherd boy slides down the dune and wanders toward men who sing a tune.
He can't see their faces but sees shining swords on their sides gleaming in the moon.
They sing of Queen Scheherazade telling her stories to the king Shahryār in a ballad sweet.
He crawls closer until his heart stops when in front of his face are large brown sandaled feet."
2
The carvan stop just outside Abhu-Dhabi and make camp. There by the firelight they tell a story. Faces light up by the light of the campfire as each one adds their part of the legend.
The voices drift in to dry dusty wind, 'The boy sits still holding his breath as the man scans the dark horizon. The boy prays that his sheep stay put.
The man slowly turns and walks back to camp and begins to talk about the ocean of fire. The boy has heard of the famous race. It is a 3000 mile endurance race across the desert. The thieves talked on and on of whom would race and win the enourmous purse offered by the shiekh.
The boy often heard stories of the inexperienced riders who were lost in the 650,000 square kilometers of the desert. It is a dangerous contest in which both rider and horse may die of thirst, of exhaustion, of sand traps, or simply lose their way and never be found again. Today the temperture for August reached 104.
The boy slides slowly back down the sandy bank and silenty creeps back toward his flock. He zig zags past tiny stone croppings. He walks a ruin of a wall that was said to be parts of the fabled ruin of Ubar. The boy has traveled the Empty Quarter his entire life and knows how to walk it blind in the night.
The boy feels the wind on his face and ushers his sheep closer to the rock wall. A heavy sand storm will be coming and he can already feel electircity in the air. His sheep are used to the arid land, its high unpredicatble winds and sudden blast of thunder. He just wants them out of view from the thieves.
The boy falls against the cool rock wall and watches his sheep. They trust him. He guides the fold like the black arabian to his herd. He stares up to the stars thinking of the wild horses. He takes his stick and sets it deep in the earth and lays his shawl over it. He waits until his sheep begin to sleep and follows the direction the horses took into the oasis.
He stops breathless behind a large date palm and spots the herd on the farthest side of the water's edge. The black stallion raises his head smelling the wind as his group greedily drink the water.
Suddenly a bedoin scout moves in the distance outside the elaborate tent of the shiek. The wild black horse grunts and takes off as his herd silently follow in a trot over the next ridge and vanish.
The shepard boy returns to his flock and puts back on his shawl and grabs his walking stick and slowly moves his flock to the oasis to drink and to eat. He is greeted by the scout. The boy is familiar with all the languages of the desert. He greets the man and recognizes the dialect. He asks him how his family is from that region. The scout squints trying to recall if he knows the young boy. He welcomes him to join them in the big tent for the feast.
The boy enters the tent and is patted down by guards. In the oasis weapons are not permitted. The shephard sniffs the air that smells of frankincense. For centuries nomads would travel by camel the Silk Road into the Empty Quarter trading spices and exotic scents. The Boswellia tree is said to be the oldest tree in the world. The resin was praised and once called gold. Today the great balsam trees are extinct in the area. Only the scatterings of soapberry, acacia, capers and swallowwort can be seen. The only culitvation of life is visible on the shady banks of the oasis.
The people gather all around the shiekh dropping at his feet their treasures. People have travleled from all over to the Liwa Oasis near Abu-Dhabi to prepare for the great race. The boy was nervous as he was shoved up toward the shiekh. He fumbles in his pocket nervously and feels the cool stones he found on the paths near the Wadis. He kneels and places three black cratered rocks in front of the shiekh's sandals.
The shiekh is interested in the funny shaped stones and leans forward and picks them up. He eyes the stones and rolls them in his royal palm.
He asks the young boy 'what are these?'
The boy whispers, 'They are the stars that have fallen to the desert.'
The shiekh smiles holding the meteorites and waves his hand for the boy to come closer. He rubs his head as a sign that he is pleased as the men and women laugh. The shiekh leans and whispers to his guard that he wishes for the boy to sit beside him at the feast. The guard nods and bows."
4
The men and women now stir the pots and pass out food as the old man continues to speak,"The boy is told to follow the tall muscled guard outside where he is surrounded by a harem of ladies. The guard tells the women 'clean him up for he is a guest of the Shiekh.'
The caravan sit under the massive blanket of stars and listen as the old man pauses and writes with a long stick the word Zephyr. The nomads watch as the west wind acknowledges its name and swirls down from the sky shifting the words on the still hot sands of the ages the word Zamar , the wind then shifts leaving the word "الحرة that means free.
The nomads all gasp at the sand as the old man chuckles loudly and continues his story.
'The boy is scrubbed with brushes and pails of water are dumped on his head. The harem girls giggle as they lift his skinny arms. He grabs his arm back and stands up from the tub and grabs his clothing. The guard returns and screams at the girls. They nod and explain that they did not mean to upset the guest of the Shiekh. The guard turns to the shepard and asks if they need to be punished. The boy nods no unable to speak. The guard steps up and gives him a showy outfit of pants and shirt folded neatly. He is told to change into the outfit. The boy tugs at the shirt that feel funny to his skin. He does not like the contricting fit and wishes to wear his old loose and soft clothes.
The guard smiles pleased at the transformation. He eyes the boy strangely. 'You seem so familiar to me. What is your name?'
The boy replies that he has no name. The guard frowns thinking the boy is making fun of him but the boy responds that the desert calls him many names. The boy tells the guard that even he had many names and he speaks out in many tongues names that they guard has not heard since he was a child. The guard leans and eyes the boy closer saying 'how do you know the secret names that only my child hood friend would know?' How do you know the name my father called me only when he was pleased with me?'
The shepherd shrugs and points to the air all around. 'It was told to me in the wind.'
The guard looks at the boy and helps straighten his collar. He touches the boy and a tiny spark hits his fingertips. The guard recoils his hand and asks 'are you some sort of sorcerer?'
The boy smiles and says that he is just a shepherd who watches his flock. The guard does not believe him. He grabs the boys old clothing in his hand and ushers him into the tent that is now filled with laughter, loud music, dancers, food, and lots of teas and coffee.
The shiekh motions smiling for the boy to be seated at his side. He shoves a woman away who is feeding him dates and grapes from her hand as she dances in a thin scarf outfit.
The boy tries not to stare at the women twirling around the tent half naked. He stumbles up the steps where the shiekh is seated above the rest of the boisterous crowd.
The shiekh tells the boy that tomorrow he shall ride in the race. He tells the boy that he will win for his Arabian is the fastest in the land.
The boy eagerly replies 'None are faster than the black.' then covers his mouth wishing he had not said it.
'The black? I have never heard of this horse. What lineage is it from and who shall ride it.?'
'No one sir. The horse is free. It is an Arabian stallion.'
The shiekh laughs 'I see...and you think this horse is fast do you?'
The boy does not speak. He shoves a handful of grapes into his mouth and nods.
The shiekh eyes the boy again and claps for more tea and coffee. He hands the boy a glass and raises a toast for the race.
The boy does not raise his hand nor drink his cup. The tent goes wild as people continue dancing,and talking loudly.
'why did you not raise your glass'
'I have no interest in your race. It is just a way for more animals to die in the desert. It proves nothing in the end.
The shiekh's cheeks grow red 'PROVE NOTHING?'
The boy turns to him and nods slow now feeling shy for his carelessness.
'I am sorry if I have offended you!' the boy whispers.
'You cannot offend me, now go. You have no business at my table.' the shiekh screams.
The guard rushes toward the table while the boy stammers the shiekh's names. The shiekh had not heard those words in over twenty years. His face contorts as the last is but a name he heard only once whispered in his ear by his secret lover.
He raises his hand for the guard to leave the boy untouched.
4
The shiekh turns to face the boy and asks,'what is your name child?'
The shepherd responds 'I have many and speaks in dozens of ancient languages the names that the wind, the desert, the sun, the rain has called him. The shiekh listens with eyes opened wide.
The boy eats food and tells the shiekh how the Arabian wasa gift from the four winds. He said how the horse was given from the north its spirit, from the south its strength, from the east its speed and from the west its intelligence.
He tells the shiekh of the story of the angel Gabrielle and how the horse was created to be a creature that could fly with invisible wings.
The shiekh claps for more food for the boy. He asks if he liked the food. The boy nods yes and says how the black he calls Zephyr for the strong west wind. He tells the shiekh how he has watched the stallion travel acorss the desert for years. He tells him how smart the wild stallion is and how it outsmarts all the thieves, and how it has his own herd. He tells him how the stallion flys when he runs across the Wadis dried up river beds as if foating on water. He tells him the horse is magical for it is closest still to the elements. He tells the shiekh that no horse can beat him for they are too lazy, too domesticated, to dumb, and too inbred.
The shiekh begs the boy to take him to see this magical stallion.
The boy drops his food now realizing the coffee has made him excited to babble. He tells the shiekh that the horse and herd are probably long gone by now.
The shiekh tells him he will give him thirty sheep for his time.
The boys eyes light up at the sound offer of sheep.
'very well but let me see the sheep first,' the boy says drinking the last drop of tea.
The shiekh whispers to the guard and the three slide out the back of the tent into the dark night. The wind picks up swirls of dust around them. The shiekh wraps his face with cloth as the boy tilts his head and listens to the wind.
They head across the oasis passing another grove of Palm Trees to a small fence. There inside is a large flock of sheep. The boy is elated and jumps the fence to look at each and every one. He knows how to watch sheep. He points to one that is old and worn. 'I want this one.'
The shiekh laughs 'that one is old and lame."
'Yes that is why I want him, he is wise and leary of predators for he recalls still what attacked him. He is a good leader for the flock.'
The storyteller pauses and tips his coffee cup back and motions for more. A woman pours him another cup. He drinks then continues the story.
Suddenly the wind stirs and the boy shouts to the Shiekh that the horse is in danger. The shiekh yells to his guard to go and get help as loud screams are heard across the oasis. They run back toward the sound of the noises and see men with trapping the horses in ropes while they struggle.
The shiekh's guards now appear as he orders the men to stop and release the animals. The thieves do not listen as one of the foals is injured and falls to the ground. The black stallion rears on his hind legs in anger kicking and snorting tugging to be set free.
The boy watches in horror as the stallion kicks and bites at the men's hands holding the ropes to a mare to his side. 'let them go!" the shepherd screams.
The shiekh does not know what to do. The men are armed. The oasis is a place of sanctuary. He never thought any would disobey the turns to his guard and tells them to bring help and all their weapons. The guard runs back to the tent. Some of the thieves have tugged the horses halfway up the bank to escape.
The shiekh charges at the nearest man and kicks his knees. The robber drops the rope and the colt runs free across the dunes. The robber stands now and pulls out a gleaming sword grinning.
The boy watches as the theif cuts into the wind toward the shiekh's throat. The shiekh is fast and lunges to the side with one leg bent. The thief's sword slices the air with a zip. He turns to try again. The shiekh waits for him to come closer. The shiekh is smiling now and turning his palms toward himself for the robber to hurry. The shiekh says, 'come on you filthy robber. You have disobeyed the law of the oasis. If you do not die by me, you shall still die by Allah. You will be punished.'
The thief charges making a highpitched gurgled cry and points his sword straight ahead to stab into the Shiekh's heart. The shiekh merely bends both knees then shoves both palm forward at the man's knees as he falls over him to the ground wailing. The shiekh stomps his windpipe as the man gasps in the sand. The shiekh reaches down and wrestles loose the saber and places the blade on the mans neck. The man now begs for his life.
The shiekh pushes lightly the blade and nicks the surface of the man's neck as blood now trikles down to his collar bone. The man's eyes go wide in terror as he begs to Allah to spare his life. The shiekh's guards now attack the other theives but some have vanished over the dunes with some of the herd. The shiekh narrows his eyes and stomps into the man's groin and shouts 'I shall not kill you, here in the sanctuary of the desert where all are given safe haven. I am a man of honor and no one shall be killed on this hallowed sand but you shall meet your destiny when the time is right. You will take me to your camp and there we will punish all who dare steal from the desert and what it grants us. You will watch as the wrath of justice is served. You will be the last to witness what happens to those that break our laws.'
The shiekh whistles and a shiny sorrel arabian gallops from the darkness to his side wearing a elaborate saddle. The mighty beast snorts and kicks his legs anxious to be ridden. The shepherd watches as the shiekh grapples the man's neck and lifts him up and into the air by his throat. He reaches into his saddle and ties a rope around the man's arms and legs then tugs tightly. The man's arms burn and scrape from the rope.
The shiekh mounts his horse as it rears on it's back legs kicking and snorting. His guards ride to his side waving swords under the moonlight. The shepherd watches as the guard he knows hands him a detailed sword with a hilt made of rubies and emeralds.
5
The shepherd watches as the group take off led by the robber over the ridge. The boy turns to look at his sheep. He reaches down to the old one and says 'I will be back for you and soon you shall meet my flock but for now I must go and witness another miracle.
The boy runs up the sand dune and sees the men moving over the next ridge of dunes. He stares up to gain his bearings and finds the north star. He closes his eyes and listens to the desert. He can hear in the distance a horse in agony and opens his eyes and runs now full speed.
The boy catches up with them in a valley. They have circled and trapped the robbers who have the wild horses still in ropes. The boy kneels on the bank of the dune and watches as the guards battle the robbers. Some of the herd breaks free and runs off in different directions. The black screams kicking but a man still holds on with one hand the rope around his neck the other he swings his sword at a guard and makes contact on his ribs.
The shiekh jumps from his horse and runs at the man. He spins in two circles gaining speed. He aims for the arm that holds the horse and severs it as blood splatters across the sand. The man yells in agony as the black bolts in a blur with his raven mane flowing behind him.
The shiekh's legs wobble as he watches the wild dark beast run over the desert faster than the wind. His men all stop standing over the fallen theives who writhe in pain on the sand. They stand in silence and witness this miracle. The sky opens up from the clouds as the black glistens in the morning sun. He runs across the golden sands like a mirage of dreams. His hooves float above the surface. Tears slide down the men's cheeks as they watch him run. They choke in the beauty of all that he is.
The boy now runs to the side of the shiekh and says 'he is free again, they way he is meant to be for his is a pure horse. He shall never be a slave, he shall never run for any game. He runs free in the desert as we all should. His soul is free, that is his magic. He is part of Allah and of the desert, the wind, the sun, the moon and stars, he is part of us...
He is the WILD ARABIAN !
The old man grabs the staff that he wrote in the sand and stands up. He takes his hand and touches the magic rocks in his pocket. The shiekh turns and walks while listening to the wind. He is now free in the desert. He gave up his life as a shiekh and now roams the land as his ancestors did, as the magical horse taught him. The horse and the boy gave him back what he gave away. The miracles of his life now unfold for him under the Arabian moon. He shuts his eyes and in the distance he can hear a horse calling his name.