After a while, the low whinnies of Qadr caused his head to snap, limp curls falling across his eyes. Securing the veil on his head, he turned to find a woman drawing a pot from a nearby well. With little effort, she set the brimming vessel of water atop her head as two more hung from her palms.
Hussam's forehead pulled into a grimace at the wobbling pot but averted his gaze out of respect. He debated whether to aid the woman as he recalled Bakr's comments. Was this not precisely a growing concern? Why was she unattended? She had yet to notice him, and for that, Hussam was grateful. It was a cause for great dishonor for a man of his state to be seen with an irrelative woman. This was common law, and he was a decidedly modest man. Hussam refused to compromise her dignity and frankly wished his own to remain intact. And so he remained unseen.
CRACK!
Just as he emerged from the thicket of shrubs, an outcry of what he assumed to be joy moved his feet. Hussam hurried toward the source of panic, then stumbled to a stop. His eyes squinted against the glare of the burning sun. Beyond, where the grassy plains ended over the tan sands and mountainous terrains, approached a caravan. Merchants, he gathered. There were three loaded transport camels, but the mirage of desert heat made it appear as if there were four. There very well could have been, considering the large load they carried.
Nine horses.
Twelve men.
Hussam's frown deepened.
He was not expecting any shipments. The last of the traders set sail for the East over three moons ago. He knew this because he'd supplied them with men. However, foreign traders crossed border points all the time. Qays was a key point on the trade route between Sham and the Akbari coast. Only these weren't foreigners.
Each Qaysi traveler wore a thick turban to keep the sand out of their eyes. The two men on horseback out in front led the herd while the rest manned the laden camels. Hussam couldn't quite make out their faces in the distance.
On his periphery, the same woman ran down the hill as far as her legs could carry her. She must have seen someone she already knew, Hussam reckoned. How else could she have spotted them in such a distance? Piles of cracked pots lie scattered in a trail behind her as she swayed with the errant winds, water trickling from her clothes.
It was then when Qadr reached his master that something struck him.
On the ground lay a lost anklet. Or was it a necklace? Either way, his eyes traced the vanishing back of its owner. With no apparent reason, he pocketed the dainty gold. Hussam retook the reins, mounting Qadr in one smooth movement, then broke into a gallop.
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"Your victories on land have amassed us great wealth at sea, ya caliph." One man said.
"Had you not supplied us with more gold and men, our voyage would have surely been a futile one." Another voiced.
