Secret of the Sands by Sara Sheridan Read Free Book Online

strange-looking creatures. Their blue eyes remind the Bedu of the sky, seen through the empty eye sockets of a bleached, white skull. They are haughty too, like living phantoms, zombies greedy for the lifeblood of Arabia. When the white men speak they always ask questions and the Bedu know what that means.
    ‘You do not have horses in England?’ Jones is challenged bluntly when he enquires about the breeding habits of the animals, where they can be bought and for how much. The Bedu are close to their livestock – camels, horses or goats – and at least as protective of such property as they are of their wives. Animals are their only measure of wealth and the truth is that they are unlikely to sell any of their horses unless they have to. Itinerant tribesmen rely on their livestock not only for food and transport but to find water – a good camel can save your life in the desert, and water is the only treasure that matters out on the hot, dry sands. Gold and precious jewels cannot save your life like a decent steed. The horse, of course, has the advantage of speed and intelligence over the camel – and they are necessary for successfully raiding other encampments or carrying important news.
    There is a legend in this tribe that as a child, perhaps thirteen years old, the emir was caught out on the sands with only his horse for company. He survived two days without water and did not succumb to panic (a legendary feat in itself). Then when it could go no further, he used his sabre to slaughter his horse and drank its blood to survive. He made it back to his father’s camp on foot the following afternoon with the animal’s blood still crusted on his clothes and around his mouth. He had sucked the carcass dry. It is a tale acknowledged as so extraordinary and heroic that still the people of this tribe tell it to their children and will do so for several years after the emir dies. More importantly, the emir’s enemies tell the same tale to the children of their own camps – as a warning. The tough young man has grown up into a fierce opponent and he is respected and feared across the entire region.
    The emir’s men are as hard-nosed as their master , Jones thinks. They continue to bat his questions back to him, revealing nothing in the process. When Jessop strolls out of the family tent he comes to stand by the lieutenant.
    ‘Nice animals,’ he says, with a nod. ‘I’m glad we arrived today. Several of those children might certainly have gone blind, or died even. If the infection gets into the blood it will poison them. I hope I have been able to avert that.’
    Jones is not listening. ‘Thing is with these Arabs,’ he says nonchalantly, ‘they are great traders. They are trying to make me feel like a fool in the hope of gaining a better price.’

Chapter Ten
    Zena is running. She is running so fast to get away that she doesn’t even feel the ground beneath her feet or the sun on her skin. Her body is almost silent – the way a dyk dyk moves through the trees at speed – the flash of a leaf and the movement of a branch. It’s like being invisible. Zena has hardly ever had occasion to run before – not since she was a child and she played with the others, hiding in the bushes and splashing in the stream. That was many years ago now, and this kind of running is different. It is a sensation that is both desperate and strange. Her breath comes fluidly and the further she goes the more energy she has. She does not look back. She can take any direction she likes. At least that is how it feels at first. After a little while she realises that she is being followed so she picks up the pace, stretching her limbs further.
    I’ll never stop, she thinks. Running is all I want to do now. Running until I get shot of these strange men and this strange place.
    The thought is no sooner formed than a hand claps down heavily onto her shoulder and pulls her to a stop. Forcefully, the palm pushes her onto her knees. Her heart