KeYnNamM 

The Man-with-No-Name,

the King of No-One’s-Land

By: Ruwen Rouhs
(© 2022 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

RRouhs@tickiestories.us

Chapter 7
Tarit, Son of the Desert

All morning long the King of No-Man’s-Land had jogged south along the Wadi Draa in the shade of the gallery forest. Only during the hot noon hours, he took a short rest on the water cooling his feet. Then continued his run till he turned onto a sandy path that led east through scrubby grasslands to the foot of the plateau in the mountains at the edge of the Great Sand Desert. There he followed a steep trail up to the roof of the plateau. At nightfall, he arrived at a cliff at the edge of a wadi.

During millenniums the canyon had been carved into the hard rock-face by torrents of water in rare winter-storms. Now in midsummer, the valley floor had dried up with exceptions of some shallow holes filled with stagnant water and surrounded by thorny shrubbery. The small lake KeYnNamM could make out in the dusk was a special place. All year around it was supplied with fresh water by a spring, called the Spring of Meryem. Its source arose from a millennium-old underground reservoir, which delivered it to a cavern deep inside a steep rock face. When the water was high during rain torrents the source supplied the small lake with enough water to feed the Draa miles and miles away. But now at the hot time of the year the rivulet arising from the lake vanished in the dry sand after half a mile only.
KeYnNamM had walked down the path to the spring so many times that he could remember how many. However, he remembered the evening when he first arrived at   Meryem’s Spring like it was yesterday. It had been shortly after his father's cold body had been buried in the deep of the night in the Qubba of the Kings of No-One's-Land in Tamegroute. His father, the king of No-One's-Land, the Amestan of the people of the Wadi Draa, had died of poison mixed into his food by the Empire's henchmen. On this special night, KeYnNamM had discarded the name his mother had given to him and by which his friends had known him since his birth. From that night on, he bore the name that all the kings of No-One's-Land have borne since time immemorial, KeYnNamM, King-Without-Name.

At that time, he was not much older than Ikken now and would have needed protection and guidance himself. But the very next morning after the funeral, the Empire's henchmen began to hunt him, the new king of No-One's Land, the young Amestan. The flight lasted three weeks. At first, he moved by horseback along the River Draa to its source in the northern mountain range, then on clandestine paths back south to where the Draa seeps into the sand, and from there to the Border-Land. Disguised as a citizen of the empire probably betrayed by a confident, he was tracked down by the henchmen of the Empire again. As a last resort, he had no choice but to flee east across the Wadi Draa into the realm of the desert sons, the Kel Tamasheq, where he hoped to find a refuge in the endless desert of sand and stones. But even there he did not feel safe. Every night he woke up imaging to hear the hooves of the horses of his pursuers.

On the evening KeYnNamM arrived at the Spring of Meryem. He was nearly dying of thirst. Just alive enough he stumbled down the steep path from the edge of the plateau into the dry valley. In the moonlight, the surface of the water in the small lake reflected the stars. Attracted by the promise of salvation he jumped into the water without a moment's hesitation. He plunged into the cool water, drank his fill, submerged his tired body in the water, floated on his back, took deep breathes with his eyes closed till he felt alive again. Just as he had decided to lie in the balmy water until sunrise, the snorts of a horse reached his ear. Panic-stricken, he looked around for a place to hide. The only protection promised the cave from which the spring water was flowing. Crouched he ran towards the dark hole of the cave entrance, agitated by fear. When the snorting of horses sounded again through the night, he turned his head and searched the valley behind him for possible enemies. Looking back, he banged his head against the ceiling of the low entrance of the cave. He lost consciousness, fell down lengthwise, and conked out.

KeYnNamM woke up when he was addressed in an unknown language. In the darkness he tried to find out where the voice came from, who it belonged to. A dark figure covered the cave entrance and blocked off the moonlight. The figure came closer and closer. It suddenly it was very close and bent over him. Was it the desert spirit? Was it Kel Essuf? Did he inhabit this cave? Had he, KeYnNamM, disturbed him? Would the spirit devour him? He closed his eyes in fear!
Suddenly the voice changed to the language of the people from the Draa. "Can you stand up?" when KeYnNamM did not answer, "Here, take my hand!" The figure in the dark cloak bent down to him, a slender figure, with a face even darker than the cloak. He pulled him up, clasped him under, and led him along the small creek to a campsite behind the next bend in the wadi.
On the bank of the creek a dozen of horses were waiting, the source of the snorting that had startled KeYnNamM. Some of them were standing up dozing, others were lying on their sides in the sand. "We patrol the border of our kingdom." said the figure, "We protect the borders in the name of our ruler, the Amenokal, who rules over the tribes of the sons of the desert."

A gaunt man emerged from the shadows of the rock face, wrapped in a light-gray over-garment, his face veil thrown back, "Tarit, Lord! Whom have you picked up in the dark? Who is this? A spy of the Empire?" then he said reproachfully "I've told you time after time not to go roaming in the dark on your own! You know if anything happens to you, the Amenokal will cut off my head with his own hands!"

Now the man grabbed KeYnNamM by the shoulders and shook him. Sensing that it was only a half-grown he seemed reassured, "You pose no danger, do you young man?" Then he ran his right hand over KeYnNamM's wet hair, "Wet as a water rat!" he laughed, "Scared, young man? What brings you to the Imuhagh camp in the middle of the night?" When KeYnNamM did not answer immediately, he added " Calm down, we Imuhaghs honor their guests, we do not harm them."

Tarit, as the man called his savior, and the tall one exchanged a few more sentences in the foreign language. Only now, as Tarit's silhouette stood out against the man's light-colored robe, did KeYnNamM realize why he had not been able to see the stranger in the cave entrance. Tarit was a black man, his wide outer robe was dark blue and his skin even darker, almost as black as a starless night at new moon. Only his eyeballs gleamed in the moonlight.

Tarit took KeYnNamM by the hand and led him to a fireplace where the embers under a pot were glowing dimly. "You have already quenched your thirst. Are you hungry also?" when KeYnNamM didn't answer, "Sure you are hungry stranger, so am I. Dig in!"

Tarit was the first to reach into the pot of lukewarm millet porridge with chunks of meat and let himself enjoy it. Then KeYnNamM began to dig in also. Soon both young men were competing for the delicious dish.

The desert son tried to question the newcomer. KeYnNamM, however, refused to give any further information about where from and where to. He also did not reveal his name or that he was the new King of No-Man’s-Land. However, he hinted that he had been pursued by the Empire's henchmen for weeks, was completely exhausted and needed help. “I am looking for the Sons of the Dessert. I am seeking asylum and hope for their hospitality.”

Tarit was different. He proudly told, "I am the little finger on the left hand of the King of the Desert Sons." as KeYnNamM looked up in amazement he began to chuckle, "That is what the Amenokal always calls me when we are alone. While doing so, he strokes my stubborn curls and says, "Tarit you are as unnecessary to my existence as the little finger on my left. He smirks," Tarit chuckled even harder, "Then he brings the little finger to his lips, kisses it and exclaims: Without this finger my life would not be perfect! Tarit, my son you only make my life perfect! Tarit my darling."

At first the new king of No-Man’s-Land did not know how to interpret these words. But then Tarit suddenly took him in his arms, "Until now, I myself did not know what my king meant by that. But since tonight I know what he is talking about. Since I found you this night, stranger, the empty spot in my soul is filled, the gap that nothing could fill until now, neither the love of my king, nor the friendship of my comrades." Little by little, KeYnNamM began to understand what Tarit meant. When he awoke in Tarit's arms next morning, he realized that they were both more than brothers.

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In the years to come, KeYnNamM and Tarit never broke off their friendship. They usually arranged to meet at Meryem's Spring, which Tarit visited with the desert king's border patrol at least once a month. Only rarely they did meet in the Draa Valley, because they were afraid to be caught by the Emperor’s henchmen, or in the palace of the Amenokal, because there the curiosity of the court disturbed them. This night however, as KeYnNamM arrived in the darkness at the edge of the wadi, he was sure that Tarit was down in the camp with the rest of the members of the border patrol, even though they had seen each the last time before he was captured by the soldiers of the Empire. He just was sure of it.

KeYnNamM was right! Even from a distance, he heard the snorting of horses and smelled the smoke of a campfire. He crawled to the edge of the cliff. Searched the valley floor for horses, but could spot only two. A small black horse dozed standing up, to another one was stretched out in the sand sleeping. Had Tarit come without a patrol? Belonged the horses to strangers? He tried to pierce the darkness, but could not detect a sleeping figure anywhere.

Was Tarit here at all? He had to use the bird call they always used to call each other. Three times he chimed the song of the greater sand-plover. "Tarit!"; "Tarit!"; "Tarit!"; he chimed. He listened into the darkness. No answer! He repeated the short melody. Again, no answer. Then, after the third time, a short yelp, the yelp of a desert fox sounded through the night. That was Tarit's sign. But was it really him? Or did fool him a desert fox proper? But the answer came not from the valley, but from the path that led up from the spring to top of the cliff. KeYnNamM jumped up. It had to be Tarit! His brother, his friend Tarit! KeYnNamM ran to the place where the path ended on the cliff.

They did not speak at all. They fell into each other's arms, they cried with joy and relief. Later they sat side by side on the edge of the cliff in the light of the rising sun. "I hardly believed you would ever return, my dearest friend, my KeYnNamM. At every campfire, in every marketplace, the Empire's henchmen told me that the soldiers had captured you, that you had been condemned to forced labor in the crystal mine, that you were only a shadow of your former self, that you would soon extinguish like straw in a fire! I was desperate! Without hope! Until a few days ago. Then our spies reported that the Emperor's beadles are searching every bush in No-One's-Land for you, for you and your little friends! I therefore had to come to our source, for my heart told me that this is the place I was most likely to meet you, my KeYnNamM." The sentences came over Tarit's lips without pause. "Let me embrace you once more, my dearest!" and he kissed him, "But say, where are your little heroes! I must meet my dearest friend's friends. Thank them! They did what I should have done! Forgive me for not standing by you!"

KeYnNamM blinked against the rising sun, then turned his head to Tarit and kissed him first on the right cheek, then on the left. "Oh Tarit, Tarit, my friend and brother! Then I would never have met my Ikken and my Aylal. Soon you will meet them, my dear sons, the sons I never have dreamed off. I know you will love Ikken and Aylal as I love them." and after a moment he added, "Let's go down to Meryem's Spring and wash away the past."

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The water in the shallow lake fed by the spring water was still cool from the night. Rollicking like small boys, the two jumped into the shallow water, splashing each other, washing away not only the dirt of the journey but also the worries of the year of uncertainty. "Tarit, your body is still as smooth and slender as at the day we first met! Your body can compete with any work of art!" KeYnNamM exclaimed. "Spin around once, my Amestan! When I pull out your whiskers, you'll look exactly as you did when we first met. Time seems to have stood still!"

Then Tarit lowered his eyes in embarrassment, "Amestan I have three tents now." he hesitated, "Can you remember? I told you about Tamimt, the girl who looks just like you, the girl with the blue eyes and the slender hips of a boy. When you disappeared, I asked for her hand so that I could remember you day and night. Tamimt is the youngest daughter of a tribal lord who was killed in battle. She has two older sisters, Lunja and Dihya. Tamimt's mother, the clan elder, however, determined that she should not marry until their older sisters also had their own tent. I therefore built three tents in their mother's camp. On the morning of the wedding day, I led Dihya, the eldest, into the first tent to the sound of tambourines. At noon, when the marabout showed the bloody cloth to the mother and the other women, I was allowed to lead Lunja into the other tent. Lunja was insatiable. But when night fell, I was able to break away from her and bring the marabout the emblem of perfected love. Only now was Tamimt entrusted to me. Her delicate body was covered by a flowing robe of gossamer silk, her blue eyes almost hidden by the aleshu, the headscarf studded with gold coins. Taking my eye star by the hand, I led her into the third tent to a bed of soft wool and undressed her, while in the camp all the members of the clan danced and sang."

Now he smiled at KeYnNamM like one who wants to share a secret with a co-conspirator, "My eye star," I said to Tamimt while kissing her flat chest over and over again, "Tamimt, my eye star, I have been waiting for this moment all along. You alone are the one I desire, you, the image of my beloved friend KeYnNamM. I will not take you now as I took your sisters. We will lie with each other without consummating marriage until my beloved is free. Tamimt understood me and no blood had to run for our union to be sealed."

Tarit was silent, then added almost shyly, "Dihja and Lunja have now each given birth to a son mine. Both boys have my dark skin and your blue-gray eyes. Tamimt, however, is still a virgin, for I have kept her virginity until I can share it with you."

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Before they both parted in the afternoon, KeYnNamM pulled a pouch of crystals from his belt, "For the Amenokal, your lord and protector. I know he loves crystals." He considered for a moment, "But I don't send them to him without a reason. I need his help and your help. I promised to free my friends from the penal camp! Your father knows Amaynu, the goldsmith. He sent him to buy crystals for jewelry. But the Emperor's henchmen arrested him and claimed that he had acquired the crystals illegally. For this he was sentenced to hard labor. The second of my friends is Ochuko, the merchant from the south. You know him, he is blacker than you. Your tribe did business with him for many years, good business, to everyone's satisfaction. Do you remember him? The governor accused him of smuggling khat and had him thrown into the penal camp. The third is my friend Idir, a cattleman from Draa. I want to free all three of them and for that I need help. I need horses and stone oil, the oil that can be ignited. I need that for fire pots." as Tarit looked at him skeptically, "Tell your father that it will not be his loss. I can tell him when and by what route the mined crystals are brought to the city once a month. The transport is guarded, but a dozen of your master's warriors should be enough to rob them. It is up to him to take advantage of the opportunity."

"Will the raid provoke not a war between us desert sons and the Empire, a war that would be of no advantage to us or to them?" “Tell your king a war is imminent anyway. The Empire is already gathering its forces for an invasion of the Kel Tamasheq Empire. He wants to enslave you. The first move is always decisive! Make sure your king makes that one!"

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To be continued...

Posted 06/24/2022