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2014 - Dubai – A new path
What helped Carina in the end was pure coincidence. She took another taxi, which dropped her off near her hotel, right at the bazaar.
She decided to make the best of the situation: if she was hanging around here with nowhere to go, she was going to discover in more detail the treasures of the market.
Soon she was completely caught up within the turmoil and once again she could only feel fascination for this country.
When the German bought herself something cool to drink at one of the stands, she heard beside her a couple enthusiastically discussing an incident they had experienced this morning. Deriving from their accent, Carina thought they had to be from England.
As she spoke the language fairly well herself, she could not help following parts of the conversation. When she heard the words “warriors”, “riders”, “horses” and “rifles” she started to pay more attention. Soon after she asked the two of them directly what they were talking about. They were more than happy to explain: they had received advice from the bellman at their hotel, who had suggested that they make a trip to the meeting-place for caravans outside of the city. It was supposed to be a special highlight to observe the colourful happenings there, especially early in the morning.
Consequently they had heeded the advice and today they had been witnesses to the departing of a troop of riders that went on their way into the desert. However, they had not taken, as usual, camels, but instead they had ridden beautiful, Arabian horses. Someone had told him that they were the men of an important Sheikh. It had been an incredible sight – unforgettable! So many wonderful animals, in conjunction with the proud riders!
At that moment Carina was fully aware of where she had to go next …
2014 - Dubai – Unexpected help
Carina had asked the couple – who indeed came from England to spend two weeks of vacation here – how to find the way to the caravan market.
As it turned out the distance she had to cover was not really far: 20 minutes later she had arrived there.
It took her a while to find her way around the place but soon she had found out that there were two groups of people: those who wanted to sell her a one-day-excursion by horse or by jeep into the desert; and the others who were busy preparing a real caravan on the merchants’ paths to the next oasis, which would take a couple of days or even months.
Her problem was that within this latter group, which was the one she was interested in, there were hardly any people who wanted anything to do with her. Most of them even refused to talk to her. This was partly because she was a single woman, and partly because these Arabs were just not able to understand German or English.
She had almost given up the search, when she found a man that was very helpful. His English was full of mistakes but with some effort she could understand him. He told her that he was going to leave this place the same evening, on horseback because that was faster than the camels.
Yes, he confirmed, all caravans had to pass by the oasis of Wahi first. The reason was that within the desert one had to always follow the way of the water, which meant from one well to another. This was especially true with horses, who needed a lot of liquid. Yes, he could take her along until there. As they would be riding in a small group they would be much faster than any caravan, usually consisting of a lot of camels, which provided security but made them very slow.
Carina could not believe her luck! Yet she found the man to not really be to her liking, in spite of his friendly words. Somehow he did not sound genuine. She put that down to the fact that he of course wanted her money for the trip. When they had already discussed the details about the departure and were just about to haggle over the price, all of a sudden a roundish, very spirited Arabian interfered.
A heavy discussion in Arabic was the result, which ended with the speedy disappearance of her guide, who disappeared without further greetings. With an open mouth Carina was left to just stare after him. She could not comprehend what had been going on: where was he going all of a sudden?
Then she fully realised only when the other man started to yell in English: "Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea who that person was? One of the best known white-slavers in this area! That man would never have brought you to Wahi, but for sure into the next Harem! If you have the contacts you can find enough rich Arabs that would pay a lot of money for a blond, beautiful woman.”
His outburst came along with a lot of wild gestures and head-shakings. Carina felt her face burn – a white-slaver? Really? Her blood ran cold. Could it be true?
Then she found her words again: "And who are you?! And why should I now believe you of all people?! Maybe you have just ruined my one and only hope. And by the way: what did you tell him so that he went away like the devil was behind him?”
The man seemed to be a bit embarrassed now: "I told him that you are my wife, like he could have easily seen for himself if he had just looked at the ring on your finger.“ He signalled to Carina’s fake wedding band. “I told him you wanted to run away from me and he had better be gone now before I call the police. That helped. It usually does. In this country married men are respected.“ With that he grinned boldly.
Carina could not decide if she should laugh out loudly or be angry with him. Then she asked seriously: “And why would you want to help me?”
He pointed at her necklace: “Because of this amulet. For many years I have been in good business with Sheikh Suekran al Medina and I really do not want to endanger this relationship. If he allows you to carry his emblem around your neck, you have to be important to him and, therefore, you are important to me as well.”
"Then the least you could do is help me! I have to go after him. By the way, my name is Carina Hartmann. From Germany.“
"And my name is Hatem – as explained I have been a merchant here for many years. My shop is just over there.“ He signed with his hand to one of the shops a few meters down the road. "From over there I could watch you with that … scum", he continued. "You should be glad that I had nothing to do and was sitting outside in front of my shop.“
And then he said: "By the way – who is it you would like to go after?“, and Carina replied without hesitation: "The Sheikh.“
If she had thought she would impress Hatem, she was completely mistaken. He laughed. And laughed. Droning like he had just heard the best joke in his life.
"You must be mad. Too much heat.“ He wiped away the tears that had started to stream down his face because of all the laughter and made the typical circling gesture with his right hand near his temple.
Carina was furious – what did this street merchant think about himself?! Miffed she turned around without a further word and marched briskly away.
Hatem stopped grinning and went after her. He took her wrist and made her stop. "Listen carefully! You have no idea what you are getting yourself into. They will cut your throat before you are near enough to even say what you want.“
"Really?“ hissed Carina. "And I thought this fabulous amulet works miracles? Why would they cut my throat then?“
Now Hatem stopped to think for a moment. "You are right about that of course. Okay. But what would you tell them? Do you really believe you would be welcomed to an audience by the Sheikh himself?“
"Yes! Because I only met him just yesterday. And you know what? I saved his life! You desert people do so much love the rule about a life debt. Well! That is my plan! Are you going to help me or not?”
Hatem was impressed. Of course he had heard the rumours about an attempted assassination on the Sheikh’s life. As she indeed had the necklace around her neck her story seemed to be true. Nonetheless he continued to think it through: "Anyway. What would you want there? What do you think the warriors should do with you? Take you with them? Where to? Zarifa? To the heart of the desert of Rub’al Khali? Surely NOT! Haven’t you ever heard that strangers are not allowed to access it?“
Carina had not yet thought it through that much. Therefore she said, impulsively: “No, not all the way to Zarifa, but at least part of the way. Until I have collected enough information for my book about him!“
Hatem made a disgusted sound: "Really? You are writing a book? – well, that is going to make the Sheikh really happy. For as far as I have heard he is a great fan of publicity.“ His voice was thick with mockery.
Carina had now had enough of this importunate stranger: “You know what? I do not need you at all. And I have not invited you to help me in the first place.“ She had already started to turn away, to get away from him, when suddenly a thought crossed her mind that she could use as a victory:
"You folk do believe in destiny, don’t you? Well I do too! Do you really think it was coincidence that it is me of all people, who travels from Munich to here to collect information about the Sheikh, to get to know him inside the plane? From Munich to here!? Coincidence? And on top of that I saved his life? If I am correctly informed he usually takes his private jet - but that had a technical defect!“
Within her mind she thanked the uncongenial lawyer who had revealed this detail to her. “All coincidence? If you believe that – fine. But I think it was the will of Allah!“
She knew she was coming across quite pathetically, but she saw immediately that she had struck gold. Nevertheless she continued: "Well, now I wish you a good life and a successful business for the future. Because I am busy trying to find a way to follow him.“ Hatem realised that she did indeed believe what she had just said and that he had no way of stopping her.
Suddenly Carina changed tactics: "Do you know the Sheikh personally?“ Hatem shook his head. He had always talked to his men, never to him personally. "I always negotiate with a man that is called Mazin. He is the contact person for the Sheikh here in Dubai. Why?“
"Wouldn’t you like to get to know him?“
Hatem caught himself with the thought that in his heart Carina’s whole adventure got to him. Yet what could he do anyway? If he did not want to barricade that crazy lady within some chamber, he had to support her in order to prevent her from getting in contact with the wrong people.
For some time he thought that the idea of disabling her had some appeal but he was afraid about what she would do afterwards. The police around here had no sense of humour in that kind of case, especially when it came to female tourists.
"Very well, listen. Tomorrow a caravan will take off. As your nice friend has explained to you a couple of minutes ago, indeed everyone - no matter if by horse or camel – has to pass by Wahi. I am going to check if I can arrange something for you. But I promise you nothing, alright?“
Thus the two made an appointment for the evening. Carina was supposed to come again to the shop shortly before dusk.
1990 - Rabea Akbar – A new hierarchy
It was October 1989 when Rayan left the mountains around Zarifa.
As he knew the mountainside, as well as the surrounding parts of the desert, like the back of his hand, it had been no problem for him to stride straight through until the next oasis. There he joined a caravan to Rabea Akbar. The city lay in the south of Zarifa and it was still part of the desert of Rub’al Khali.
Originally it was just a big oasis, but like so many other settlements it had grown over time and had become a real city. The leader of the caravan, who had three sons of his own at home, had sympathy for him and luckily accepted him as a "hanta“. Hanta was the local name for men who had to take care for the camels. They were mostly young lads just like Rayan, who wanted to work for their passage, due to not being able to afford a camel of their own.
At Rabea Akbar he strolled around for a while to scout out the environment. He had never been there before. He had only left Zarifa two or three times before to accompany the men to the surrounding oases for trading.
"Your English is good, go to Rabea Akbar to the Americans“, his grandfather had advised him. Before he met Rayan’s grandmother he had himself worked as a hanta and as a guide in the American base there.
"With the Americans you will be safe. There no one will care where you come from; and your blue eyes are not going to be anything special either. However, just in case you should change your name. Why don’t you call yourself Yasin? – that was my father’s name, so the name of your great-grandfather.“
For the second time Rayan was lucky: just as he arrived into Rabea Akbar at the beginning of 1990 – in the January – the guide, who the military normally had under contract, fell ill. This was most likely because of some poor quality water. Thus, the American sergeant responsible for the desert explorations needed an urgent replacement and, fortunately, he did not ask too many questions. Contrary to the former guy the tall boy seemed to be able to understand them quite well, which made conversation so much easier.
And just like that Rayan, who now called himself Yasin, succeeded in securing himself a small place to sleep, right next to the barracks of the soldiers.
He had no problem adjusting himself, but there was one aspect that was hard for him in the beginning: he was born as Prince of the desert and was used to the fact that servants had to bow to him. Even though he had been away from home for quite a while now, he had never had to serve someone else before. Now it was his duty to bow low before his American masters. This action offended his pride, especially as some of the soldiers showed great arrogance towards the natives, which made his blood boil.
Yet all that he could do was to fight against these feelings. He hurt himself intentionally in these moments by recalling that he no longer was the son of a king, but an outcast, a homeless, a traitor even.
He should be glad that the world thought he was dead. He had witnessed how traitors were branded before they were exiled.
Those men, in the lowest position of the hierarchy, were fair game to everyone.
Therefore he decided he had to be more content and, even though it was a difficult thing to do, he just had to get off his high horse.
2014 – Just outside of Dubai – On to adventure
When the caravan finally took off, Hatem asked himself for the 100th time if he was doing the right thing: he told himself that he could refer to the necklace that the woman was wearing. Anyway, wasn’t he just doing His Excellency a great favour? In the end he would insure that the woman reached her target in a good condition.
He found the leader of the caravan immediately after their conversation the afternoon before and spoke to him. Initially the man categorically refused to take a woman, who was all alone, with him– let alone a foreigner, who did not understand the language! His responsibility was with the whole group, he just could not afford to have someone that did not understand his orders in case of an emergency. Consequently Hatem quickly got himself involved with the adventure by closing his shop and arranging preparations for both of them.
As Carina had hoped, he firmly believed in destiny and that the ways of Allah were strictly defined. He could not believe that their acquaintance was coincidence. Could he really be a tool of Allah? He did not go so far as blaspheming … And anyhow, what could be the worst that could happen? It was most likely that the Sheikh’s group would be long gone by the time they arrived.
After all they had 24 hours head-start and their caravan consisted of 300 camels, they would be much slower in comparison to the horses.
They met one hour before dawn in order to line up the long row of camels together with the other riders.
At least the woman seemed to know how to ride: it was obvious that this was not her first camel ride, a most reassuring sign! It took quite a while until everyone had found their place and lined up – and then they were off!
They were already outside the city and therefore it took them only minutes to find themselves within the open desert.
1990 - Rabea Akbar - Clara
Whenever Rayan had some free time, he loved watching the soldiers on their exercises, especially the combat and weapon training.
He watched attentively in order to memorize as much as possible. Secretly, when he was unobserved, he mirrored what he had seen. As he had been trained by his father and the other warriors since he was very little, in all kinds of fighting techniques and weaponry, it was easy for him to learn the major part of the exercises just from watching. Then later he repeated them until the movements grew natural to him.
When it came to the weapons themselves, he had to manage with substitutes like sticks or stones. It was forbidden for native people to touch the weapons or to officially participate in the education.
From time to time the soldiers would make sarcastic comments, saying "look there is our little spy again, most likely he works for the sheikhs“ and "are you paying enough attention to see how it works?“ – "would you like to participate?“. There was one of them that even said to his comrades: "just wait a couple of weeks, then HE will show you how to do it right.“ And all of them were laughing loudly because they thought that was the most funny remark of them all.
In reality Rayan had quickly found out that the majority of the men did the training out of boredom or just because they had to. There was rarely any good fighters amongst them.
Most of them he would have overcome in spite of his young age or maybe just because of it, as in comparison to them he was burning with eagerness.
It was a completely different story with the training of the Special Forces though. They were deadly serious. They did not allow spectators and he had to be careful not to get caught.
Special Forces like that were the result of the First Gulf War between Iran and Iraq. They were put in place after some rioting in several remote areas, so they were able to have specifically trained troops in place right where needed in case of emergency.
One day when Rayan was getting away from one of the lieutenants he met Clara.
He had already seen her from a distance, especially on Sundays when she was on her way to the base’s church.
She was a tall, gawky girl, much too tall for her own liking. With 1,85 m she towered over all the other young women and, more awkward still, over most of the boys as well.
Additionally to being so tall she was thin. She was wearing her shining brown-reddish hair at shoulder length that she mostly braided backwards with a silver clip, which intensified her austere impression.
Rayan knew that she was the daughter of the base’s general and because he did not find her very attractive, he preferred to stay away from her.
However, that changed entirely that day: he had just slipped into the next building, a storage room, to escape from the angry lieutenant at his heels, when all of a sudden she was standing right in front of him. It was as if she had appeared out of thin air.
"You are Yasin“, she stated matter-of-factly and looked him over with her mocking pale blue eyes.
"Yes“, he replied and wanted to turn around to get away. "I am Clara and I have watched you.“ "So what?“, he asked grumpily. He did not like the fact that of all people the daughter of the general showed an interest in him.
He was used to girls watching him and if he liked them as well, he was never reluctant to a flirt. However, from this young lady he wanted to abscond as fast as possible.
In that moment she said: "You study the soldiers on their training and like that you learn. I watched you repeating the exercises. Which by the way are very impressive …“
Rayan was alarmed. He felt caught. This could cause him a lot of trouble. And trouble as well as attention were the last two things that he needed. "Don’t worry, I am not going to squeal on you. I am not allowed to participate in anything around here either. It’s a man’s world! Pah! I am 17 years old and waste away my life on this base, which is in the middle of nowhere… Listen! I want to propose a deal to you: you teach me some of your tricks and I help you to improve your English.“
At first he hesitated but Clara made it clear to him - not really in a charming way - that he had no choice.
And just like that a deep friendship grew out of a little blackmail.
It was strange for Rayan to have a female friend. Most likely because of his young age, all he had been interested in so far was sex when it came to relationships with women.
From childhood onwards, the girls from his tribe grew up separately. They did not participate in the boys’ exercises and their education was also separate. Did they even have classes? If he was honest, he had never cared about it.
Furthermore he had left Zarifa at the age of 13 and therefore had not really had the chance to become interested in the girls from his tribe or their habits.
Clara was so different. Most of all she was emancipated.
God forbid that he should say she was not able to do an exercise because she was a woman. If he did she would get very angry, which he realised made her look really pretty.
However, above all he liked that Clara Tanner was highly intelligent. Through the position of her father she had access to a lot of papers and books, which he devoured with her.
He sponged up all knowledge he could get and along with it his English grew better every day. Quickly he made hardly any mistakes when speaking; it was only with writing that he had a lot of trouble. After having only learned English orally from his grandmother, writing confused him.
In exchange he taught Clara some phrases in German, which he also had learned from his Granny. After a moment to adapt he could speak German fluently, almost without any accent.
"You definitely have a gift for languages“, Clara kept repeating, "you have to exploit that.“
From time to time he had to go for several days into the desert for a guided trip but most of the time he just made short explorations in the closer surroundings. He never heard again anything from the old guide, his predecessor; it was most likely he had not survived his illness. Rayan was well aware of the peril of contaminated water: he never took a chance with an unknown source and would always do careful checks in advance.
In respect of that, he had to thank his education and the teachers in Zarifa, who had provided him with useful skills up to now.
"The lieutenant was at our place for dinner yesterday. He was talking about you“, Clara told him one day in September. "He said it was you who saved the whole troop. My father was very interested. So you are famous now.“ While she said it, she was grinning as she knew that this was exactly what he specifically did NOT want. Yasin never talked about his past, and about his family she knew almost nothing. While they discussed other topics, sometimes for hours, when it came to this one he blocked her out and became silent.
"How do you do it?“ – "How do I do what?“ – "That you know precisely when the weather is going to change … I have been here long enough to know that the big sand storms usually arise suddenly without any warning.“ It was the day before that Rayan had indeed made the troop turn around, because he knew a storm was coming. Some of the soldiers thought that he was crazy, because there was no sign at all to be seen in the sky, but the lieutenant, a blond, chubby Texan, trusted in his abilities and followed his advice. What else was a desert guide good for? They had just reached the city with their vehicles when the storm broke out.
Rayan stared at the ground embarrassed. "I cannot really explain it, you have to believe me. I just know it. It is as if the desert is talking to me …“ He looked up with the expectation that Clara would laugh at him, but instead she just eyed him in her usual calm manner and full of interest said: "Tell me more about it.“
"Well“, he stammered. "I was born within the desert, in the middle of a sandstorm. My parents were travelling when the storm unexpectedly and quickly started. They took shelter between some huge rocks. It was in this “break” that I came into the world three weeks early”, he smiled awkwardly. He did not like to talk about his past but then again he knew that all his secrets were well kept by Clara.
He thought that this was a strange topic for him to discuss, as the previous day had been his 17th birthday. He had never told Clara the date so she was not aware of it.
"I would very much like to introduce you to my father“, she said out of the blue. Rayan thought he must have misheard: "What?! Are you crazy?!“
"Listen. I just want to finally let them know who I am spending most of my free time with. They are starting to think I am doing something forbidden“, she grinned mockingly. "Just imagine if my father catches us red-handed ...“
"How do you mean? We have never …“, Rayan started to protest. Clara kept on grinning and added: "but we could have. At least my father could come to that conclusion, if he sees us hanging around together so secretively all the time.“
"NO! And that is the end of this discussion!“, Rayan put his foot down firmly.
But some weeks later, of course, she succeeded in persuading him.
