Chapter 4

“Asalamu ’Alaykum wa rahmat Allah” The indigo-clad chieftain rose from his kneeling position; the morning prayer had been concluded. With a deceiving lightness in his step, Itri almost glided up the red dune to where his camel was lethargically chewing. His staunch and piercing black eyes scanned the awakening desert horizon before him. It was all an open book. The subtle falls and bends of the land were etched into his mind. Foreigners thought the desert was ever changing, an impossible maze of ever shifting dunes, but Itri knew the truth. Every Berber did. The desert’s secrets and true nature were only revealed to the patient and to those of acute mind. She could be a sadistic villain if she chose, but she was also a harsh mother who tested and rewarded her offspring.

The camel gave a quiet groan, as if to remind its master of the impending dawn. He had to reach Ghadames by noon and he still had a long way to go. Itri calmly climbed onto the saddle and clicked his tongue. The camel rose and trudged down the undulating dune towards the ever receding darkness in the west.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The white buildings enveloped by palm trees never failed to make Itri approximate a smile. His hometown grew like a pearl in an oyster’s womb. A silhouettes snaked out of the town up to where he was waiting. Itri reflexively clutched the prongs of his saddle. When it got close enough to reveal the characteristic shield of his people, he relaxed.

“Tifaween, chief.” Madghis; his second in command smiled, placed his right hand over his heart and bowed.

“Tifaween” Itri responded with smiling eyes, but not so much as a hint of lip curl and returned the bow. The Tuareg had perfected speaking with their eyes, for they were always veiled in travel and combat.

“We have the stable ready for your naga. Your captains are waiting in your majlis.”

“How about the traders, any problems with them?”

“Thiyya kept the rabble in line while you were gone, if only she wielded a spear with as much ferocity, she would be the subject of many tales.”

Itri chuckeld, “Perhaps I will teach her, although even I would fear my dear wife then.”

“Let’s hope your business with the Acacus tribes has born fruit.”

“A prickly pear, my brother, but it is near ripe and very sweet.”

“Inshallah.”

With that, the two robed men strode down into the town already fully immersed in the hum drum day to day. Itri felt a shifting sandstorm within him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Asalamu ’Alaykum wa rahmat allah” �" May God’s peace and mercy be upon you; the way of ending Islamic prayer

Tifaween �" Good Morning in various berber dialects

Naga �" female camel

Majlis �" sitting area, reserved for guests and gatherings

Inshallah �" God Willing