USUAL DISCLAIMER

"THE BLACK CLOVER" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.

THE BLACK CLOVER by Andrej Koymasky © 2018
written on 3rd of April, 1986
Translated by the Author
English text kindly revised by an Australian friend
CHAPTER 7

SIIN

We stopped at Al Bi'r but we managed to sell only a few pieces of cloth, so we soon left it and continued till Ma'an. Here we sold our remaining cloth, and also the youngest of our two foals. With the money we gained, we decided to buy some of the jewellery they produced there: they were not refined but had a simple beauty and we thought that perhaps we would be able to sell them in one of the next cities or villages. Moreover they took very little space.

Now the road turned decidedly towards the north. After a few days on the road we arrived at Karak. Here we sold some of the jewels. While we were buying some cooked food, we heard about a great salty lake in which there was no kind of life but in which you could float without swimming and without any effort. Amin, curious, proposed that we should go to see it. We went along the tiny peninsula of El Lisah that stretched out into the lake. The place was desolate, there were no plants and the soil was of a dazzling whiteness. We were completely alone and on the lake no boat was seen. We undressed completely and dived into the water: it seemed almost to repel us, to resist. It was thick, oily and really one could remain afloat in whatever position. It was indeed a strange sensation. Amin splashed about in the water and entertained himself by splashing me. After a while I too started to play with him. When a small amount of the water entered my mouth, it tasted really salty and bitter. After some time we got out and lay under the sun. My Lord had his eyes closed and was enjoying the heat that was drying his skin. I rose on an elbow and looked at him: his body was really taking good shape, he was very beautiful, well developed in every part. To look at him was a real feast for my eyes. By now he was maturing and he was no more a child but a youth in the exuberance of growth. His chest was hard and well developed, his stomach flat and slightly hollow, his sides slim, and his legs firm. Hair had grown thick between his legs, around the beautiful fully developed member and in his armpits, but had not yet thickened in the other parts of his body and so his skin was smooth and glabrous and now was starting to shine from the microscopic salt crystals, so that it seemed a fabric of raw silk dusted with diamonds. I was lost in that careful contemplation when I noticed that Amin had reopened his eyes and was looking at me.

When he met my look, he just smiled: "Looking at me?"

"Are you sorry? Does it bother you?"

"We are more than friends. I do not feel ashamed with you."

"Your body is so beautiful..."

"Not as yours: you already are a man, I am not yet."

"You are becoming one."

I lay again. Amin, after a while said:

"If you were not one of my guards, Nadim, by now you would be with your mind at rest in your village, probably married, with your children... You never think about that?"

"No. In any case I would not be there any more. And I firmly believe that it is Allah's will that I entered your service."

"Yes, it is certainly Him that gave me the luck to have you at my side. You are the first fruit of my clover. Without you what could have happened to me, what could I have done? Very likely I would have been killed."

"No. Allah protects you."

"Surely, and you are His protection. Near you I have no fear. If it is Allah's will, I will have my throne back... but in any case, more than my throne, I do not want to lose you."

"I will never abandon you, my Lord."

"Because you swore it to my father? Because you are in my service?"

"No. In any case."

"Listen: I release you from your oath: if you wish you can go. You are free to do what you like."

I rose and looked at him. He returned my look with seriousness...

Then I asked him: "Do you want me to go?"

"And you?"

"No. I will leave you only on the day you chase me away."

"It will never happen. But I was speaking the truth, before: you are freed from any oath."

"Exactly: for this reason I choose to remain."

"Thank you, my friend," he said closing his eyes with a satisfied expression.

After a while we dressed again, went back to our donkeys and continued our journey. I was reliving in my heart that dialogue. No, I could never ever abandon Amin. By this time we had been five years together. If I tried to think what my life would have been without him, I could not even imagine it. His presence alone gave a taste to my life. Sometimes I felt that I should be able to show him what I was feeling for him, in a better way than I had been, but there was no gesture, there were no words that could express with accuracy and fullness my feelings. It is a strange sensation when you become aware that the normal communication means prove to be insufficient, inadequate for your purpose. I would have liked him to be able to read in my mind, in my heart how strong was my devotion, my loyalty. No, he was not only my Lord, he was much more. Much more than a friend, much more than a brother. I could not find any word which I could use, that could express all that he was to me.

We were now going back up the river that sustained the salty lake. Here the vegetation was green and thick and after many miles of steppe, this land was a relief for the eyes and the heart. We passed several small villages and our commerce was going well. We were in the city of Qnaitra when Amin had his eighteenth birthday. I led him to the local masjid, explaining to him my tradition. He liked it and together we thanked Allah. We left Qnaitra loaded with merchandise and headed towards Dimashq ash-Sham, Damascus the Beautiful. At the town gates we saw delightful little woods of apricot trees, fig trees, olive trees and gardens with pulses and vegetables in plenty, magnificent rose gardens, all irrigated with the waters of the Barada river.

We entered the town: we could not stop admiring its opulent beauty. The splendid Omayyades Masjid, the beautiful stronghold, the enormous bazaar full of life, sounds and smells. We admired the shining blades, the turkish carbines of steel inlaid with noble metals, the precious tissues of silk and satin, the ceramics, the enamelled glasses, the rich carpets coming from all parts of the world: it was indeed the town of my childhood dreams, the marvellous kingdom. Almost all the houses seemed to have no windows towards the streets and that seemed to us strange, but then we understood that all had windows towards internal courtyards, shaded and cool. We visited Nuur ad Din and Salah ad Din's mausoleum. We wandered in the town for hours and hours, never sated with what we were seeing. At evening we asked for hospitality at an inn that displayed a sign saying that they also offered accommodation.

We knew that the town was part of the great empire of the Sultan Abd Ul Hami'd residing in Istanbul. Amin was really impressed by all he saw and at night, when we withdrew to our room, he said:

"How big and marvellous it all is. Mine was a really small kingdom, tiny, and yet to me it seemed big... You see how many things one has to learn in life. Humility is a great virtue and you can never have enough. My palace seemed to me a marvel, but then what will the palace of a king so great to possess thousands of cities be like? I would wager that the great king has never even heard of my kingdom!"

"All that makes you sad?"

"No. It just helps me to see things more clearly. Certainly it is Allah that desired all this in order that I could learn from it. Allah is great!"

Again I admired my Prince and Lord. If he had been in his small kingdom, he would have surely been an unique Shaikh. I prayed to Allah to help him to retrieve what was due to him. As if he had read my thoughts, Amin continued:

"Who knows when the time will be ripe so that I may claim what is due to me? How will I know?"

"Confide in Allah: He will certainly make you understand."

"Of course. Perhaps before He has to teach me other lessons! But on that day you will be at my side: you will be my Grand Visir. You will share with me the glory: it is a promise."

"I am just the son of a donkey breeder..."

"No, you are my strength and my support. You are sharing my exile, you are ready to share my misfortune, you will share also my glory on that day when Allah's will returns it all to me. This I swear. May I rot in hell forever if it is not this way."

"Not for that, believe me, not for that will I be always at your side."

"I know! And that is why I am sure about what I say."

"But you can certainly find more able, wise, cultivated, intelligent people than me."

"That may be, but I will never, ever find someone worth even a nail from your foot. In you I have full trust, as I can not have and could not have in any other."

I took his hand and kissed it with emotion, then murmured: "I hope never to disappoint you..."

"You only hope, but I am certain, my sweet Nadim."


SHIIN

We stopped in Damascus for almost a month. Then, with a new load of beautiful and precious merchandise, we continued our journey. We arrived at Nebek where we sold some goods, then we continued for Hassié: our commerce was profitable and we had put aside some gold coins. On leaving Hassié we were going towards Hims, a bigger city, when we stopped to consume a light meal. We had tied our three donkeys to a small dry tree trunk by the side of the road and we were seated on two rocks to eat. As usual we were continuing our trade: we had to gain much money to be able to buy the wonderful powder weapons of the Turks so that we could give arms to some men and go take back again the kingdom. Nobody had rifles in our land and if we could buy enough, we would succeed easily in our project: men and carbines were the key to success. We were talking quietly when I saw Amin spring to his feet and look towards the east. I too stood up and looked: I could see a cloud of dust heading for us.

"Mounted men... they seem many... could be trouble..." I said.

When we were in Damascus we had heard that in those lands there were several badaawin's gangs that raided villages, assailed caravans and plundered passersby.

"Yes, they could be. What is the best thing to do? They are approaching quite rapidly..."

"Let us hide the gold and continue to eat..."

"You think we would not have time to go back to Hassié or to try to reach Hims?"

"Race horses like those are much faster than our poor little donkeys. With luck, they will not notice us or be interested in us... If we try to flee, they will definitely come after us."

We hid almost all the money we had with us under one of the big stones we were sitting on, then we resumed eating as if nothing was happening. But we kept a wary eye on the dust cloud that was growing larger and closer, and that inexorably approached. Soon, about forty mounted men reached and surrounded us. A man with a short trimmed, black, pointed, goatee beard, who was evidently their chief, reined in his horse in front of us and questioned us with arrogance:

"Aren't you scared of us? You continue to eat as if nothing is happening?"

"Scared, sir? Why in the world? We are just two travelers, we have done no ill to anyone."

"You know who we are?"

"No, sir. Are we perhaps in your territory?" I said in a humble voice.

The man dismounted, seized my clothes at chest level and pulled me to him:

"Don't play sly, boy. Here everybody knows who we are."

"Sir, we are strangers, we are coming from the Higiaz..."

The man stared at me, then looked at our donkeys: "What are you carrying?"

"A few pieces of merchandise to exchange in the markets, to earn a living, for me and my brother..."

"Let's see what interesting goods you have..." he said without letting go of me and made a sign to one of his men who got off his horse, went near our donkeys and opened the bundles we had put down on the ground by the animals. He scattered all our belongings then said to his chief:

"Just a few small things, but not bad."

"Good, take them!" the chief answered.

Amin, at that point said: "Sir, I pray you, it is all we have. How can we make a living if you keep from us everything we own?"

"And who told you you will still need something?" the man said, bursting into spiteful laughter, then, whilst the other had gathered all our belongings and brought them back to his horse, he approached our donkeys and laid a powerful blow on the neck of the foal, who collapsed, dead.

Amin jumped toward him shouting: "Noooo!"

I blocked him as the man turned, his bloodied blade in his hand, raising it again but this time aiming at Amin. So I jumped on my Lord making him fall down and lay on him so that I was shielding him with my body and in my mind I beseeched Allah to protect him. I felt the stroke landing on my back, then I heard the noise of the horses hooves, the scared donkeys' brays, then darkness came down over my eyes and I fainted.

When I came around, it was almost night. I could not see Amin. I tried to move, but felt a shooting pain in my back. I gritted my teeth, tried to turn and a little further away I saw the unmoving body of my Lord, lying prone on the ground. I tried to see if there was blood, but my eyes could not focus on his image and the light was too dim. Then I tried to call him but from my throat went out just a wheezing rattle and again I lost consciousness.

When again I opened my eyes, I was looking directly into bright sunshine and had to shut them immediately. I heard voices, horses pacing and feared that the predators were back to finish us. Then I realised they were speaking a different language: I could not understand what they were saying. Again I half opened my eyes turning my head slightly to one side: they were soldiers, dressed as those we had seen in Damascus, soldiers of the Great Sultan.

At that point I tried to speak and said: "Where is my brother? Is he alive?"

One of the soldiers turned towards me and speaking Arabic with a strong foreign accent, said:

"Yes, he is living, he is here nearby. The one who is worst is you, he was just trod on by horses hooves."

"Where is he? I cannot see him!"

Then I heard Amin's voice: "I am here... we are out of danger, Nadim. I too cannot move, probably I have a broken leg."

"Don't you worry. We have found you in time. Now we transport you to Hims, that is on our road. In there they will cure you."

They loaded us on two horses and at last I could see Amin: his face was swollen and bruised, and he had a split lip, but smiled at me. They carried us to Hims and entrusted us to the soldiers of the little local garrison, then continued on their way. The soldiers laid us down on one of their straw- mattresses and one of them went to call a doctor to heal us: I had a bad wound across my back and was bleeding very badly. I once again lost consciousness. I came around three days later. The first person I saw was Amin who smiled at me and whispered:

"Welcome back, Nadim, how do you feel?"

"Not bad... very weak."

"You lost so much blood... I was afraid I would lose you. But Allah has been merciful. The doctor says that they did not damage any vital organs and that if you remain still, in one month and a half you will be able to stand up."

"And you? You have a broken leg?"

"Happily no, no broken bones. You saved my life... I was really scared, thinking to lose you..." he repeated and a tear rolled down his cheek.

He lightly caressed my face, bending on me, and put a light kiss on my lips, rising immediately and drying with the back of his hand that lonely tear that betrayed his emotion.

"I am alive, I am living, I did not leave you. I promised that to you, is it not so?" I said smiling sweetly at him.

During the following days Amin went back on foot to where we had been attacked to retrieve our gold coins. With those he paid our food and my care. I did not want him to do this: he had to conserve them for his plan. But he answered me that this also was a lesson from Allah. There was something much more precious than his war: it was my life, my health:

"You see? I relied on gold, on wealth. On the contrary I must have my trust just in Him. Now I understand. No more plan, therefore. No more dreams until the time is right."

Two months and a half passed, but in the end I was fully healed. The money was almost ended. We were asking ourselves what we could do now, when something happened that radically changed our lives.

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 8


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