5. The Unpardonable Sin
Mecca, Holy City of the Moslems, spoke in a strangely subdued whisperwhen this particular night finally enfolded it. The great _Hadj_ wasended--the official termination announced when the wealthier pilgrimssought barbers to shave them and those without money shaved each other.
The unofficial, but more realistic, termination came about in adifferent manner.
Whatever their motives, or degree of zeal, an inspired army had gone toMecca. With the _Hadj_ ended, suddenly weary human beings thought withwistful longing of the homes they'd left and the beloved faces thatbecame doubly precious because they were absent. Thus the sudden silencein Mecca, where--every night until this one--lone pilgrims and bands ofpilgrims had gone noisily about various errands. However, not all pilgrimshad chosen to spend this night in their beds.
Ali, now Hadji Ali, stood very quietly in the darkest niche he'd beenable to find of The Masa, The Sacred Course between Mounts Safa andMarwa. Ben Akbar, never far from Ali's side, stood just as quietlybeside him and Ali wanted no other companion. Hoping to ease a troubledconscience, he had sought this lonely and deserted spot to try to findthe true significance, which he was sure must exist but had so farescaped him, of the ceremonies in which he had just participated.
Perhaps, he thought seriously, he was now confused because he had had noreal understanding of any part of anything from the very beginning.Nobody had told him why the _ihram_ must be donned and adjusted in acertain way, with certain prescribed motions, and in no other fashion.
With Ben Akbar, who followed like a faithful dog but aroused littlecomment in this city where camels were the commonest means oftransportation, Ali had entered Mecca in the prescribed fashion, thoughhe hadn't the faintest idea as to who had prescribed it or why. Atintervals, and solely because all his companions were doing likewise,he had shouted "_Labbaika_," a word whose meaning he had not known andstill did not know.
At this point, Ali became so hopelessly entangled in matters he did notunderstand that it was necessary to start all over again. However, hedecided not to begin with the _ihram_ this time. The Sacred Course wasalso a part of the ceremony, and, being near at hand, it might yieldclues that could not be discerned in that which was far away.
The Sacred Course, connecting the eminences of Safa and Marwa and localeof the liveliest and most unmanageable bazaar in Mecca, was four hundredand ninety three paces in length. It was the Trail of Torment imposed onHagar, who ran it seven times in a desperate effort to find water forher infant son. Pilgrims arriving in Mecca accepted as part of their ownceremony a seven times running of The Sacred Course. This, as Ali hadseen with his own eyes, was subject to various interpretations. Somepilgrims ran the prescribed seven times but some would have difficultywalking it once, for despite the hardships of the journey, some of theafflicted, aged and the simply lazy arrived with every _Hadj_. Thenthere were always the eccentrics. Ali himself had been an astoundedwitness when one fat Amir reclined in a cushioned sedan chair which sixsweating slaves carried over The Sacred Course the requisite number oftimes.
Ali tilted his head and stared miserably into the darkness as the utterhopelessness of his quest for understanding became increasinglyapparent. It had been important that he earn the right to call himselfHadji Ali, but, in his heart of hearts, he knew that he'd wanted farmore than that from his holy pilgrimage and he had not received it.Since millions of Moslems who found all they hoped for in Mecca couldnot be wrong, it followed that the fault was personal. So--
Ali's meditations were interrupted by that which he understoodperfectly.
Ben Akbar, swinging his head in the darkness as he turned to look towardsomething that had attracted him, gave the first sign that they were nolonger alone. Ali had not seen the move, but he knew Ben Akbar had movedbecause he always knew everything the _dalul_ did.
Presently, he knew that a man, or men, were approaching because BenAkbar always breathed in a certain cadence whenever men came near. Aliheld very still, hoping the strangers would pass without noticing him.He knew by their footsteps that there were two of them.
Ali sighed in disappointment when the pair halted only a few feet away.He was about to call out and make his presence known, for those who havereason for silence in the darkness also have reason to expect violence,when someone spoke.
"All know of the plan then, Ahmet?" It was the voice of The Jackal!
"All know," a second man replied.
Ali stood very still, holding his breath. The fact that The Jackal,whose intentions were anything except holy, was with the _Hadj_, hadcaused Ali some uneasy moments. But, he reminded himself once more, ifit was the obvious duty of a good Moslem to reveal a Druse or anyoneelse traveling with the _Hadj_ and pretending to be a Moslem, it wasequally true that The Jackal was in an excellent position to do somerevealing of his own. Ali had decided he would not be the first tospeak. Evidently The Jackal was not talking either.
"When is the exact appointed time?" the man named Ahmet asked.
"In another hour, when the followers of Mohammed and the worshipers ofAllah will be enjoying their deepest dreams."
The Jackal voiced a low laugh, and, despite his anxiety, Ali had towonder. In the heart of Mecca, surrounded by thousands of Moslems andcertainly with no hope of fighting his way clear, The Jackal could laughas easily as though he were in a Druse stronghold. His companion wasless assured.
"Speak gently," he cautioned. "Someone may hear!"
"_Pouf!_" The Jackal scoffed. "The Moslems hear nothing tonight savethe hot wind that shall sing about their ears until they are once againsafe in their homes. The city sleeps, Ahmet."
Ahmet said uneasily, "Some are always awake."
"Have you turned lily-livered?" The Jackal asked sardonically.
Ahmet answered, "I do not think so, but better a lily than asword-pierced liver."
"Have I not planned well?" The Jackal demanded.
"One who can select thirty-four men, scatter them throughout a Moslem_Hadj_ and bring all safely to Mecca, has planned as wisely as he chosemen," Ahmet commented. "Just let there be no mistake at this late hour."
The Jackal said, "The only mistake of which we can be guilty now is inleaving this place without The Black Stone."
Ali clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a gasp. The Jackal wasindeed playing for big stakes, one of the most colossal prizes in thehistory of brigandage, and he seemed in a fair position to get it. Fixedin the wall of The Kaaba, an edifice so ancient that some claimed it washere even before Mohammed, The Black Stone was possibly the holiest ofMoslem shrines. In common with all other pilgrims, Ali had dutifullykissed it. As far as its physical aspects were concerned, it was asmall, dark mass that at one time might have been part of a meteor.Should anyone ever succeed in stealing it, the Moslem world would pay afantastic ransom for its safe return. If nobody stopped The Jackal andhis accomplices, each of them could be so wealthy that the Pasha ofDamascus would seem a beggar by comparison.
Ben Akbar swung his head to nudge Ali's shoulder with an inquiring nose,and Ali stroked the _dalul's_ soft cheek. Accustomed to spending hisnights in some peaceful pasture, Ben Akbar had no liking for thisconfined place, and he was telling his friend so.
Ali tried to conjure up a mental image of The Sacred Course, but hecouldn't do it, in spite of the fact that he had run its length thestipulated seven times. Because he had hoped to find that in their faceswhich would tell him just why they had come to Mecca, and thus furnishsome sure basis upon which he could build his own right motivation forcoming, Ali had studied his fellow pilgrims and ignored the street. Whocould imagine that he or anyone else might have to leave The Masa by thenearest and quietest path?
There had to be a way because there was always a way, but Ali was stillseeking it when Ben Akbar, increasingly eager to be out of the city thathe did not like and into the desert he did, expressed his impatience ina racking grunt.
Then there was just one way. Ali drew his dagger and waited.
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p; Out in the night, there was sudden silence, but the very lack of noisewas as lethal as and somehow remarkably similar to the desert adder thatawaits its prey in complete silence and, in striking, makes no noisethat is ever heard by the victim. Ali considered the situation.
Since it was most improbable that there'd be a camel at this place andhour without a camel driver, the conspirators knew they had beenoverheard. In addition, since every camel has its own distinctive voice,The Jackal had probably recognized Ben Akbar. Therefore, he knew thatAli had overheard him.
Swiftly, Ali weighed the advantages and disadvantages and consideredpossible ways to make the best use of the former, while yielding aslittle as possible to the latter.
Beyond any doubt, The Jackal knew that Ben Akbar accepted certainfavored human beings and rejected all others, unless they foolishlytried to interfere with him. Then he showed his resentment, oftenviolently. So only a fool would rush in, and The Jackal was no fool.Neither, Ali told himself, was he a coward who'd be swerved from hisdetermined purpose by a threatening incident. He'd face a dozen BenAkbars before he'd abandon his plan to steal The Black Stone and seekrefuge in flight, but he'd face them in his own way. Ali took acalculated risk.
"Kneel," he whispered in the _dalul's_ ear.
Ben Akbar obeyed. Stifling a sigh of relief, Ali slipped five paces toone side and turned so that he was again facing the _dalul_. There hadbeen a certain unavoidable rattling of pebbles and other small noiseswhen Ben Akbar knelt, but no sound of a camel leaving the scene. IfAllah were kind, The Jackal would know that Ben Akbar remained where hehad been and would expect to find Ali with him. Rushing in from anunexpected quarter at the right moment, Ali would have the advantage ofsurprise and some hope of victory, in spite of two to one odds.
Ali thought, but very fleetingly, of calling out an offer to negotiate.He'd go his way and maintain his silence, if the pair would promise nointerference. But The Jackal had come too far and risked too much toincur the further risk of a knowing head and a possibly loose tongue;he'd never accept the offer. Nor could Ali really have brought himselfto make it.
Even though he had failed to find the assured spiritual awakening he'dearnestly hoped to discover in Mecca, he could not be disloyal to aFaith he'd voluntarily accepted. Even though he himself failed toappreciate the significance of The Black Stone, as a good Moslem, hecould not see it defiled.
Dagger in hand, Ali stood very quietly in the darkness. Though he waslooking toward Ben Akbar and the _dalul_ was only a few paces away, thedarkness was so intense that he could barely discern the camel'soutline. He neither saw nor heard anything else. It was as though Aliand Ben Akbar were the only inhabitants of a world suddenly turnedblack.
Ali battled the illusion, for the very silence and the feeling that hewas alone were sufficient evidence that he faced deadly danger. TheJackal was no amateur who would seek to cow his enemy by hissed threats,mislead him by thrown stones or other ruses, or indulge in any othermelodrama. He compared favorably with the tawny-maned lion who lays hisambush at a water hole where gazelles drink. Having decided that killingwas in order, The Jackal would kill with a maximum of speed andefficiency, brought about by a lifetime of experience.
Ben Akbar did not even move. He would remain exactly as he was and wherehe was until Ali himself gave permission to get up or until circumstancesbeyond his friend's control forced him to arise. A lump rose in Ali'sthroat. Ben Akbar was far more than just a magnificent _dalul_. He wasAli's other self, a true brother and to be loved as such. Ali renewedhis vow that, so long as Allah saw fit to spare him, just so long wouldhe and Ben Akbar face the same winds, traveling side by side.
Suddenly, seeing his pilgrimage in an entirely new light, it was nolonger a disappointment but more than rewarding. Perhaps, in Hisinfinite wisdom, Allah bestowed different gifts upon differentpilgrims, according to their true intentions. Ali knew that he wascontented now, for, because of his pilgrimage, he had Ben Akbar. Hewould no longer stand alone against the world.
Presently, Ali became aware of great and immediate danger.
It was no sudden perception accompanied by sudden shock, but a completeand whole revelation, the ripening of each separate incident since TheJackal and Ahmet had appeared. Unless he did something about it, Ali'ssenses told him, he would be dead very shortly. At the same time, soclear was the light that bathed his mind, he was instantly able tounderstand exactly how this had come about.
He had underestimated The Jackal. Hearing Ben Akbar grunt, the man hadidentified him instantly. But he had also identified the tiny soundsmade by a camel kneeling and he'd known why Ben Akbar was made to kneel.The Jackal, had decided, not only that Ali would not await directlybeside Ben Akbar, but also exactly where he would be found. It was whatThe Jackal himself might have done under similar circumstances. Now,dagger poised, he stood directly behind Ali and needed only one moresilent step to carry him into a striking position.
When Ali moved, he did so swiftly, bending at the knees even while heswiveled the upper portion of his body forward to make a smallertarget. At the same time, he pivoted on the balls of his feet, so thathe made a complete turn and faced his enemy. He thrust with all hisstrength.
The dagger's point found resistance, but not unyielding resistance. Itbit hungrily into something that was both soft and warm. There was agasp, a strangled grunt, then an almost gentle rustle as The Jackalwilted backwards and his own burnous enfolded him.
A shout cracked the darkness as a hammer blow might crack a pane ofglass. "Now then! Close in!"
Bloody dagger still in his extended hand, Ali only half heard either theshout or the patter of running feet that immediately followed. Aghast atwhat he'd done but never intended to do, he remained rooted in histracks. This was Mecca, The Holy City, and shedding blood within itsborders was one of the very few sins for which there was no pardon.Mohammed himself, when making prisoners of some enemies who sought tohide in Mecca, could carry out his own death sentence only by lockingthem in a building and letting them starve. No Moslem was wealthy orinfluential enough to attain forgiveness for shedding blood in Mecca.
So complete was his horror and so shocking, for a short space Ali wasonly vaguely aware of rough hands that gripped him. Then someone spoke.Ali recognized the voice of the fierce officer who had ambushed theDruse.
"It is the camel rider who was made keeper of the _dalul_, and he toohas let his charge stray."
A groan sounded in the darkness.
"He has done more than that," someone whom Ali could barely see said inan awed whisper. "He has shed blood in the Holy City."
"Fool!" the officer said to Ali contemptuously. "We knew who they wereand were ready to take them! I would not care to wear your burnous atthis moment!"
The single reason why he was not already lying beside the wounded man,Ali told himself, could be ascribed to the fact that the fierce officerdared not shed blood in Mecca. Certainly his execution would not bedelayed when they no longer stood on Holy Ground.
Then the fog that had dulled Ali's brain when he stabbed The Jackalfaded away. He thought of words voiced by the officer, 'the camel riderwho was made keeper of the _dalul_, and he too has let his chargestray.' Obviously, the soldiers were unaware of Ben Akbar's nearness.Ali saw his one hope of escape.
"Ho!" he called loudly and clearly. "Ben Akbar! Come to me! Run!"
There was a rattling of pebbles as Ben Akbar hastened to obey.Astonished soldiers, who hadn't even suspected this and needed a momentto decide what it might be, dodged out of the _dalul's_ path or wereknocked out of it.
Side by side, Ali and Ben Akbar ran on until the friendly mantle ofnight hid both.