The Black Camels of Qashran [antikvár]

CHAPTER ONE There were twelve camels. AU black. They came slowly up the last steep slope to the crest of the dune. They stepped carefully on the soft, moving sand, the riders leaving the reins loose, letting the animals pick their own way in the darkness. Twelve black camels. Twelve of the legendary four hundred, the sacred herd of Qashran. Rasul smiled as his camel came over the ridge. They were right on course. Ahead, the desert was suddenly flat, the sand coarser and less yielding underfoot. Ahead, five miles away, a spread of lights shone brightly in the darkness, marking the target. Sheikh Rasul reined in his beast and waited for the others to join him. He felt good. He had that tight feeling of expectancy in his stomach, that feeling he got watching one of his falcons closing in on a desert bustard, that feeling he sometimes got close to a favourite woman. That feeling he used to get in the old days when he ruled undisputed over Qashran, when he used his cunning to balance the forces in the tribe, to play oil company against oil company, to set foreign government against foreign government, to get the most and give the least. But the old days had been over for three years. Three long years in the alien luxury of exile in Europe. Now that was over. Now Rasul was back in Qashran and soon everyone would know he was back. He looked round. His men were all up out of the last dune, sitting their camels easily, waiting for his signal. Yussuf was there close behind him. He had been Rasul's faithful slave all his adult life. Yussuf was easy to pick out in any group of Bedouin. The cloak and the head-cloth could not disguise his huge Negro body. Hamid Babrah was there too, poised, confident, checking his watch and nodding congratulations to himself. Rasul had never liked Babrah. He was Egyptian and Rasul did not like Egyptians. They called themselves Arabs but were not Arabs. For Rasul, the only Arabs were desert Arabs. But Babrah was good at his job. His job was training men to fight and to destroy. There would be no fighting this time, just