In the two days before the event there were a lot of comings and goings in the city. Men and women of high social rank arrived at the palace even from very distant places, followed by a long procession of servants who brought rich gifts for the birthday man. The poor people who lived in Shagreb contemplated that coming and going of pomp and ostentation of wealth with curiosity and perhaps a hint of envy, daydreaming of being able to find themselves in those guises one day.
The caliph had no problem hosting so many people in his palace.
In the building, in the north wing, there was plenty of accommodation, both for the nobles and servants. Most rooms are furnished with finely crafted furniture, gold draperies, precious statues, and tapestries. In each of them, there was a bathtub made of fine marble, with a bronze fountain from which fresh water continuously flowed. Guests had a bevy of servants ready to satisfy any request at any time.
The guests were very excited about the party; Ghaali el-Meer was known for his lavish receptions for which he spared no expense.
Even on that occasion, he had promised to amaze with something special, but he had kept everything under an aura of mystery, having fun fueling the curiosity of his guests. Someone had tried to find out what secret he was keeping but nothing had served to make him reveal a crumb of the great surprise that awaited them.
When night fell on Shagreb, the splendor of the palace was such that the full moon seemed like a faint twinkle, large torches were lit around it and illuminated it with red and orange reflections. Inside, the sumptuous dinner that had started the party was coming to an end. All kinds of delicacies were served, brought for the occasion even from very distant places and in such abundance as to be able to solve the hunger of many poor villages; mountains of sweets and fruit had been artistically arranged and served on large silver trays, while rivers of wine had continuously filled the glasses of the guests. At the invitation of the masters of ceremonies, the guests, now full, were invited to move to the central room where they relaxed on comfortable sofas, chatting and smoking hookah, waiting for the Caliph to start the promised show. Ghaali el-Meer arrived accompanied by his highest dignitaries. His clothing, chosen for the occasion, was quite particular: he wore a purple tunic with a blue vest and a large golden overcoat with orange geometric patterns; his head was covered by a large blue and yellow turban, adorned with a thin belt of precious stones and a red bird's feather. The hilt of a large inlaid ivory sword peeked out from beneath his coat, and pearl bracelets glittered on his wrists. If he spoke, everyone listened to him; if he made a joke, everyone laughed; if he made judgments, everyone agreed with him.
A valet approached him discreetly, whispering in his ear “Everything is ready.”
The Caliph smiled excitedly and called the attention of his guests with a clap of his hands.
<< My friends! The moment you've all been waiting for has finally arrived! >> he announced smiling.
<< For this special evening, I have decided to prepare a one-of-a-kind musical show.
Don't be fooled by the apparent simplicity of my announcement, because playing for us is a musician who is anything but ordinary, whose fame will surely have reached your ears.
Well yes, I am referring precisely to that young artist who managed to combine music and Sand. Here is the Sand Dancer, Basim! >>
A chorus of excitement arose among those present. As expected, young Basim's fame had spread well. A good sign, proving that the idea hadn't been that crazy.
Only the Sand Masters in the Caliph's service showed no enthusiasm and exchanged somewhat contemptuous comments in hushed voices, not daring to make themselves heard by their master so as not to risk being punished.
The caliph clapped his hands vigorously again saying: << Let the show begin! >>
Basim entered the stage to warm applause.
A moment earlier he had had a moment of hesitation, but the desire to play that instrument had made him overcome any reluctance.
He was cleaned from head to toe, his hair had been washed and combed until it was soft as lamb's wool and his body had been perfumed with fruity oils; they had made him wear an elegant moss green tunic with black stripes, embellished with beaded necklaces. He felt uncomfortable, he wasn't used to being so elegant, and he preferred to wear more modest clothes.
Before sitting on the ground in the center of the room, he made a deep bow to the noble audience, while in the meantime some servants lined up behind him five tall and massive vases, plus four smaller ones, all decorated with floral motifs. No one noticed the tiredness that transpired from his face, the dark circles under his eyes slightly camouflaged by a light layer of make-up and the slight trembling of his hands. Everyone just wanted to see him play and maybe judge him at the first simple mistake, especially the Masters.
The days of preparation had been torturing for poor Basim, who had even had to give up part of his night's rest to be able to finish the project on time. Even if everything was fine, now he just had to hope that his strength wouldn't fail him in the middle of the performance.
There was already silence in the audience, but when he began to play, it seemed to increase, as if even people's thoughts had been silenced.
After a first minute of simple soloing, the magic of the Yasirpipe began to act on the Sand, which slowly began to come out of the vessels following the intensity of the notes. Basim heard the surprised murmurs of the spectators, but also the barbs of those who found nothing exceptional in it. Let them criticize too, he thought. It was just the beginning and that evening he was determined to leave everyone speechless.
From that moment the performance was a crescendo of music, emotions, and spectacularity.
He managed to make the Sand move in all the required ways by simulating fights, dances, battles, and even the fiery puffs of the fire eaters and the movement of the flames, all accompanied by insistent music and an engaging rhythm.
Basim had managed to create a magical atmosphere. His performance was something never seen before and even the envious Masters who watched had to admit that he deserved praise. They, who were experts, had understood that Basim possessed a particular gift, perhaps unique to him, that is, becoming one with the instrument; no one had succeeded until then.
The best Sand Masters had achieved over time an exceptional technique for making the keys of the instrument vibrate but had never managed to establish such a direct connection between it and their mind to be able to master the Sand so much as to be able to make it "alive".This was the real secret. And Basim, without realizing it, had succeeded.
Meanwhile, Basim, totally immersed in his performance, did not notice that the audience, including the Caliph, had interrupted the thunderous applause, and was watching astonished in an almost religious silence. Every time the Sand interacted, the audience followed it with their eyes without being able to utter a word, even the Caliph followed the show with his mouth open. Basim was so involved in playing the instrument that he didn't even feel the pain in his fingertips which were now dug with grooves so deep that they tore his flesh. There were no more pauses, the music was frenetic and the Sand seemed crazy in its twirling. Suddenly a noise interrupted that magical atmosphere; the Caliph, without realizing it, had dropped his hookah. For Basim, it was like a rude awakening, but it came at the right time because sitting down to play for a long time had tired him like never before. He was given the signal to resume, and with a deep sigh, he picked up the instrument again, ready to finally perform the last act of the show.
The lights were gradually turned off until a muffled twilight was created.
While Basim played a softer and slower melody than those previously sung, a strangely shaped tree was brought into the hall via a walkway whose wheels creaked softly. Without leaves and with sharp branches, it was left in front of the perplexed spectators who tried to understand what was unusual about it. On a higher note, Green sand mixed with glittering golden dust spread over it, and the secret was revealed: in reality, the tree was composed of the artistic union of the joined bodies of ten beautiful girls.
All of them had their bodies dyed gold, even their hair. It was difficult to understand where the line was between skin and fabric, creating the illusion of full nudity. Their faces were completely hidden by a thin veil embellished with small, thin discs like coins, and on their fingers, they had fake nails so long they looked like claws.
Now that their human features were revealed, they looked like statues given life by magic.
Following the music they began to move sinuously, very gracefully imitating the movement of the branches of a tree during a gust of wind. Suddenly the composition melted, "blooming" like a flower that opens its petals to the sun. One of them, until then hidden by the others, remained at the center of the scene. She slowly lifted her veil revealing a beautiful face and a hypnotic gaze. She wore a dress of ocher color on her body and emerald green along her arms, which left only her curvy hips exposed; on her head, a crown of golden leaves intertwined with drops of diamonds, she kept her long jet black hair gathered.
For a moment the music stopped and the Sand settled softly on them, giving each a new shade of soft green color. When the melody resumed, all of them, making their bellies sway harmoniously, moved away, while the girl in the center, now left alone, joined her hands simulating the face of a snake, the same one that the Sand seemed to give shape to with its movement. The girl and Sand began in unison a dance made of rhythmic and sensual movements; a choreography that made one think of a queen being courted by a creature enchanted by her beauty. There was not a man or woman in that room who was not observing the scene with rapt attention.
It was the sudden irruption of the palace guards with the captain in the lead who, calling loudly for his master, broke that magical atmosphere, causing shocks and dismay.
The dancer remained motionless with her hands clasped at her chest and Basim risked breaking a string of the Yasirpipe due to his fright.
<< Captain! For what absurd reason do you burst in like this?! >> exclaimed the Caliph, upset by the interruption but also because the hat had slipped from his head, disheveling him and making him very embarrassed in front of his guests.
<< Your Highness, it pains me to interrupt the celebrations, but I must inform you that we have just arrested an intruder in the palace; he could be a simple thief but also a dangerous hitman. >>
The caliph became livid with anger.
<< An intruder in my house! Who dared?! >> he exclaimed furiously.
<< This rat here. >> replied the captain, pointing to a prisoner in chains dragged by two guards.
Basim couldn't believe his eyes. It was Sadin.
- Two days before the party§
Sadin finished making notes in his “interesting business” notebook.
The writing was so small as to be almost illegible, also due to the multitude of omnipresent scribbles that partly covered the words. And even if he lost the notebook, he had created his secret code to prevent anyone who could leaf through it from stealing its secrets.
Since they had arrived, he had spent his time taking notes on the most interesting places in Shagreb for him which were certainly not the temples, the pools, or the gardens, but the sumptuous homes and shops.
The golden city had sparked a perverse interest in him; seeing so much wealth at your fingertips was literally for him, as for any other malicious person, a wedding invitation. He immediately understood that he could carry out the theft that would change his life. He then began to develop a very specific plan. However, Sadin was not naive, despite having a thousand opportunities at hand, he immediately ruled out having to act in one of those beautiful buildings that he had seen in the city; they were all far from the royal palace where he would be staying and not knowing the place well, he would have had enormous difficulty getting around; furthermore it would have been very difficult to leave the building without being noticed and above all to re-enter, given the enormous presence of guards who would certainly have stopped and searched him. And then he had also spotted something better.
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During his stay at the palace, with the excuse of having to be absent to help Basim with the show, he had noticed something that had stimulated a certain interest in him. One day while wandering the corridors of the Eastern area, he ended up entering the royal family's quarters. The furnishings were more luxurious than in the other wings of the palace, the jade green walls were illuminated by large chandeliers with hanging crystals, a long soft blue carpet wound like a river through the entire area and the purple curtains on the windows had a delicate mint scent. At the end of one of these corridors, Sadin had noticed three beefy soldiers standing guard in front of a door sealed with a large padlock. “Why keep a door locked like that and with three guards on top of that?” he asked himself curiously. It was clear as day that there was something inside that the Caliph cared about.
“Something worth coming in for”, he thought, smiling mischievously.
He knew that this area would remain unsecured during the party because all the guards were busy ensuring the safety of the guests, which would give him time to pick the lock and enter the mysterious room. He then waited for the party to begin and, making sure that most of the guards were away, he excused himself from his companions to carry out his plan. He was determined in his intent, he only hoped to find something truly precious. As he had predicted the place was unguarded; the lock wasn't a difficult opponent to break down, he managed to unlock it in a short time and finally open the door.
A majestic rainbow of colors revealed itself before him. It was a rich and original collection made up of precious gems, all neatly arranged on shelves, inside small wooden boxes. Rubies, agates, turquoises, and emeralds glittered in the torchlight; a spectacle for his eyes not only for their value but also for the particular cut that made them similar to drops of water or flower petals.
"Victory! This is truly a rich loot!” Sadin exclaimed mentally.
He began to carefully collect them, putting them in his bag, sometimes undecided about which to take and which not to take, aware that he couldn't take them all away. While he was busy making his selection of gems, he felt something cold, metallic, and sharp rest on the back of his neck and immediately afterward a voice telling him to raise his hands. The guards had returned earlier than expected and caught him in the act. The dream was already over for him. Now the trouble began.
Basim had always compared Sadin to a cat, but perhaps it would be more appropriate to call him a magpie.
Sadin caught red-handed, was in a very bad situation.
The Caliph was furious, in the large hall his voice thundered as he railed against the boy and it was not unlikely that it could also be heard outside, the servants, despite their professional impassivity, shivered knowing full well how dangerous the anger of their master, while the guests murmured among themselves annoyed that the evening had been interrupted at the right moment. They all looked with contempt at Sadin, on his knees with chains on his wrists and with his face swollen probably from a punch perhaps given to him by a guard. From every part of the room came insults, contemptuous comments, and suggestions on the punishment to be given. Even in that situation, however, Sadin showed his bold and arrogant nature, trying to downplay the big trouble he had gotten himself into but, every time he opened his mouth, he was silenced with a slap. Basim wanted to shout at him to stop with his attitude so as not to make the situation worse. How could he be an idiot even now that his freedom and perhaps even his life were in jeopardy?
The situation seemed to take a turn for the worse when the idea dawned on the Caliph that it wasn't just Sadin responsible for the affair but that his companions were also implicated.
Pointing his ringed index finger at them in a motion that seemed to cut the air, Ghaali el-Meer also blamed Basim and the other boys for the attempted theft and ordered them to be arrested as well.
<< Your Majesty, we are innocent! We have nothing to do with the theft! Our attention was always paid to the preparations for the show! We never thought of robbing you! You must believe it! >> one of the boys said scared.
<< And what evidence can you provide to demonstrate that you were not involved? >>
<< I guarantee it, Your Majesty. They have always been there to help me; we spent all our time together until tonight. >> said Basim, hoping that his testimony was sufficient.
The Caliph did not seem convinced but remained silent, then Zafeer, trying to give logic to the previous statements, added:
<< Sadin was the only one to leave saying he wasn't well. After a while, not seeing him return, we became very worried and asked the guards to look for him. Think about it sire, we would have been idiots to do all this if we had been involved in the theft. >>
That speech seemed to light a light in the mind of the Caliph who, after reflecting for a while, and after listening to the guards who confirmed what the boys said, admitted that Zafeer could be right and therefore, convinced of their innocence, he left them free, but towards Sadin the decision was different.
<< Throw him in prison for now. >> he ordered. << Make sure he is checked visually, as rats are good at escaping. I'll make a decision tomorrow after I finish taking care of my guests. >>
With those words he took leave of those present, apologizing for the unfortunate incident.
The party had ended with a twist, but not in the way that the protagonists of the evening had imagined.
And although the night, with its calm and silence, seemed to take away all the discomforts and fatigue of a long day, the end word had not yet been written for that story.
The new dawn came early for those who had felt too restless to sleep.
The crowing of the rooster did not bring a happy awakening for those who now had to face severe judgment and hope that this would not end in a heavy punishment.
Ghaali el-Meer was considered by his subjects to be an authoritarian and vain ruler, someone who liked to lead a life of comfort and luxury, he was not cruel, but seeing himself disrespected in his own home and in the presence of important guests had infuriated him. He was sure that after that incident he would become a source of gossip not only among many of the nobles but also among his subjects and he could not accept this, his reputation as ruler and organizer of the most sumptuous parties in the realm was being damaged.
He said he had accepted the innocence of Basim and the other boys but, when they were brought before him, they feared he had changed his mind.
His serious gaze scanned each of them as if he wanted to peer into their souls. His hostile and annoyed expression hadn't changed, and this made the quintet apprehensive, and they didn't dare say a word. Basim was very worried; the boys were scared and were collected in silence with a sad and resigned expression. Even though their nomadic life had exposed them to many experiences, perhaps they had never found themselves in such a situation. They were young but he didn't consider them irresponsible, on the contrary; they had shown themselves to be altruistic and always very diligent in helping their people; he didn't think the same as Sadin, but he hoped there was at least some leniency for him.
<< Don't worry, I won't do anything to you. >> began to say Ghaali el-Meer. << Even if I am disappointed with how the party ended, I realize that you are, in your way, also victims. Therefore, I will only retain part of the promised reward, as compensation for damages. >>
The boys looked at each other in amazement and made no objections. Better to have less money than be denied freedom, they thought.
<< There is only one thing I don't understand... >> said the Caliph at a certain point. << There was a thief among you. Didn't you know? >>
They knew it very well, however, and Basim understood it from how they reacted to the question, not responding immediately, perhaps searching for the right words.
He wanted to know more too. He knew nothing about Sadin and there had never been a time since he had known him that he had allowed him to tell something more, and he had never given him the impression of being a scoundrel. He just considered him a weirdo and nothing more.
Zaafer took a step forward and stammered:
<< Everyone in the village knows that Sadin is a no-good, someone who gets into trouble without considering the consequences of his actions. Stealing, lying, taking advantage of other people's naivety... for him, it is both a game and a lifestyle.
Very often this way of doing things has gotten not only himself into trouble but also those around him. Every time he messed up, it was his uncle who had to beg for forgiveness and pay out of pocket to compensate for the damage caused. >>
Zaater felt pity for the chieftain Zaka, a good and honest person, forced to have such shame in his home. Others in his place would have already abandoned that dishonorable nephew, regardless of the blood relationship. With each arrest, he swore that it would be the last time, that he would never do it again but, as always, that solemn oath dissolved like grains of salt in a jug of water. How big was that man's heart to always be able to forgive him! But Sadin was like that, and no one could do anything about it.
<
<
<< We are not thieves. We come from honest families who shed blood and sweat every day to make us grow. Life was hard but, that didn't mean we were ever tempted to steal.
And I can say the same about Master Basim.
He is not a nomad, he does not belong to our people, he is helping us to get the money necessary to revive our fortunes although, I admit, he was forced to do so because Sadin promised to take him back to his home only if he made an effort to work for us. But after what happened last night, I'm starting to believe he would never have kept his word. This is all I can tell you, my lord. >>
After Zaafer finished speaking, a heavy silence fell in the room. It was so deep that you could have heard the beating of the hearts of every person present.
<< Well, this explanation was more than enough. >> began the Caliph after long minutes of waiting.
<< If your chief asks about his nephew, tell him that, after what he did, putting him in chains was an act of benevolence. I hope he understands. If he still wants to talk to me, he will be welcome. Now gather your belongings and get ready, my guards will take you back to your camp and you will be free to return to your people. >>
<< If I may dare, my lord... I would like to see Sadin for the last time and tell him that we are leaving without him. >> said Zaafer.
<< Granted. But only for a minute. Not more. >>
The boys said goodbye and hurried to collect their luggage, happy to be able to return home. Basim also wanted to go home, but his house was far away and now he wasn't sure if he would be able to go back. He took a few steps before stopping again, called by the Caliph who had signaled him to come closer.
<< About yesterday's show…. The performance was undoubtedly flawless, but I hated the interruption. >> he told him, while he played with his moustache. << For this reason, I want you to prepare another one just for me. >>
The prison cells of Shagreb were sad, narrow rectangles of stone where light was desired as much as a crust of fresh bread and clean water. The dust danced in the air, it could be seen pirouetting near the luminous reflections of the candles and torches that illuminated the pressing darkness of the building, before settling on every surface covering it with a gray veil. The spiders and scorpions had taken over the facility for a long time now and were walking around indifferently, showing no interest in the presence of those few human “roommates” who sat silently in the cells. Only the mice, curious by nature, went to visit them, not to give them support in the solitude of captivity, but to steal those few crumbs of their stale leftovers.
Many of the prisoners were condemned to suffer the same fate as their food: to rot.
For the most serious crimes the sentence was the death penalty, but even for the less serious ones, being put in those cells was a heavy punishment; those narrow and suffocating environments became for many the new world in which to live, a limbo in which it was impossible to understand when it was day and night, where contacts with other humans became rare events and the person's humanity was slowly consumed until it didn't just remain an empty shell. You never got used to it, the only way out was resignation.
Sadin immediately felt that sensation of isolation.
He had already experienced imprisonment but the jails he had been in were certainly not comparable to that gloomy prison he found himself in now. He had always been in large, cage-like rooms and with other people. He now found himself in a cell, without company, and could only peek through a tiny window located in the solid wooden door.
He was starting to feel like he was walled in alive, and that feeling was unbearable.
<< Sadin? >>
Hearing a call, he jumped, finally a human presence.
Since he had been locked up, he had not seen or heard from anyone, so much so that he was convinced that he was the only guest in the entire prison.
He looked out of the little window, it was so narrow that he could hardly see who was outside and, at that moment, he could only see part of Zaafer's head.
<< Zaafer! My friend! You have no idea how happy I am to see you! The service here is terrible: breakfast is not included and the bathroom is not clean. >>
<< At least this once could you avoid saying stupid things? Don't you realize you're really in trouble? >>
<< Oh, that's nothing new to me. At most, I'll stay for a few days and then they'll release me, as always. >>
<< Really? The Caliph was very angry at your stunt. >>
<< He'll get over it, I just have to talk and explain to him that it was a misunderstanding. In the meantime, do me a favor, warn my uncle and tell him to come...>>
<< No. >>
<< Don't joke, I need your help to… >>
<< I'm not joking. This time no one will help you. >>
Sadin realized that Zaafer was not joking and at that very moment, perceiving the gravity of the problem, he lost his irony.
Zaafer, without hesitation, repeated to Sadin everything he had said to the Caliph. He also told him what he thought of him, of the annoyance caused by his dishonest nature, and that the time had come to pay severely for his sins and that he therefore had no intention of helping him.
<< Maybe now you will learn to become honest. >>
<< Ayreh Feek!>> Sadin shouted furiously.
He couldn't believe what he had just heard, to be betrayed like that by someone he considered a friend. He punched and kicked the cell door, screaming contempt.
<< Don't you think about my uncle?! How will he react when he doesn't see me coming back?! >>
<< I'll tell him that you ran away and left us in trouble. Maybe this will finally make him accept how much of a lost cause you are. >>
<< Don't you dare lie to my uncle! He doesn't deserve this! >>
<< But he finally deserves to be free from a scoundrel like you. He is a good and honest man… the best leader our tribe could have, while you are just a chelb. >>
Zaafer narrowly dodged Sadin's hand, as he stuck his arm through the hole to try to grab him. His furious voice echoed throughout the prison; the boy had said what he wanted.
Without another word, not even a cold "goodbye", he quickly walked away.
He promised himself not to look back even for a minute or risk regretting it. He didn't want to feel any remorse, because it was right for him to go that way.
[1]it is a smoking tool made up of a container of water, often scented, inside which a spiral is passed which allows the smoke to cool before reaching the smoker's mouth through a flexible or, more rarely, rigid tube.
[2]This is the common equivalent of “fuck you.”
[3]One of the most well-known insults, it simply means "dog".
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26q67mM0jbs