Children of Gebelaawi (68 page)

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Children of Gebelaawi

loomed out of the darkness. As he made his way towards it, he

experienced worse fear than he had ever known i n his life,

although he had been used to going through darkness and

spending nights in the desert or in ruins. He crawled along,

keeping close to the wall till his hand touched the foot of the

steps which, if the rebec spoke true, led up to the veranda.

Here Gebelaawi had marched ldrees out of the house. That

had been his fate for defying his father's orders. What then

might Gebelaawi do to someone who broke i nto his house to

steal the secret of his power? But steady on ! No one could

expect that a thief would get into this house which had been

safe all these years, protected by Gebelaawi's terrible reputation.

He crept round the balustrade and climbed the steps on his

hands and knees. He reached the veranda, took off his shoes

and tucked them under his arm, then stole towards the side

door which, according fo the bards, led to the bedroom.

Suddenly he heard a cough. It came from the garden. He froze

on the doorstep and peered into the garden. He saw a figure

approaching the veranda. He held his breath, imagining that

his pounding heart would be heard. The figure came on and

began walking up the steps. Perhaps it was Gebelaawi himself.

Perhaps he would catch Arafa red-handed just as he had once

caught Adham at about the same time of the morni ng. The

figure reached the veranda only a couple of paces from his

h iding place, but it wen t to the other end and lay down on what

seemed to be a bed. The tension eased, leaving exhaustion i n

its train. The figure was probably just a servant who had gone

out to relieve himself and then come back to bed. Now he was

snoring!

Some of Arafa's courage returned and he raised his hand to

feel for the handle. He turned it carefully and pushed the door

gently till it was wide enough open for him to slip through. He

closed the door behind him and found himself in total darkness. He groped around till he found the first stair, and began 440

A raja

climbing, ligh t as air. He came out on a long gallery lit by a

lamp i n a niche. To the right i t bent round towards the

interior; but to the left it ran the breadth of the house, and half

way along was the closed door of the bedroom. At that bend

U mayma had waited, and from where he stood Adham had set

off; and here was he setting off after the very same thing.

Fear filled his heart and he summoned his wil l and his

courage. It would be contemptible to turn back now. A servant

might appear at any moment. He might be roused from his

madness by a hand on his shoulder. He had better hurry. He

tiptoed to the door and turned its shiny handle. He pushed it

gently open and slipped in, closing it behind him. He leaned

his back against the door, unable to make out anythi ng in the

darkness. He was taki ng small, controlled breaths, and tryi ng

i n vain to see. After a li ttle while he smelt a pure scen t of

i ncense, which fi lled his heart with a strange unease and

sadness for no good reason. l-Ie no longer doubted that he was

i n Gebelaawi 's bedroom. When would he get used to the

darkness? How cou ld he gather his scattered wits? Who had

stood in this place before? Why did he feel that all was lost

unless he took complete hold of his strength and determination and courage? l-Ie was in danger of destruction if he did not calculate every movement precisely. He thought of clouds

scudding along and changi ng into strange shapes - now a

jebel, now a tomb.

He felt the wall with his fingers and took it as his guide,

crawling forward till his shoulder touched a chair. A sudden

movement in the far corner of the room made his flesh creep.

He crouched behind the chair, strai ning his eyes towards the

door by which he had come in. He heard the pad of feet and

the rustle of clothes and expected that the room would be

flooded with light and that he wou ld see Gebelaawi standing

in front of him. l-Ie would prostrate h imself at his feet and

plead for mercy; he would say: 'I am your descendant. I have

no father. I only meant to do good. Do what you like to me. ' I n

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spite of the darkness he saw a figure approaching the door,

which opened gently, letting light from the corridor filter

through. The figure went out, leaving the door ajar. As it

turned to the right, by the light of the lamp outside he

glimpsed an old woman with a long, thin, black face - an

u nforgettable image. Could she be a servant? Could this room

be in the servants' quarters?

He peered out from behind the chair, picking out by the

faint light from the door the outlines of the chairs and the

sofas. At the back he could see the shape of a large four-poster

bed with a mosquito net. At i ts foot was a small bed, perhaps the

one the old woman had left. This big bed could belong to none

other than Gebelaawi. He was sleeping there now, unaware of

Arafa's crime. How he longed to peep at him, if only from a

distance. But the open door warned him that the woman was

going to come back. He looked to the left and saw the outline

of the door of the private chamber, closed on its terrible secret.

This was how Ad ham had seen it long ago, God rest his soul!

He crept round behind the chairs, forgetting even Gebelaawi,

till he reached the foot of the little door.

He could not resist the temptation. He stretched his hand

up, put his fi nger on the latch, pressed it down and pulled the

door. It opened. He closed it again hastily, his heart fluttering

with excitement and feeli ngs of triumph. Then the fai nt light

disappeared and the room was plunged in darkness again.

Once more he heard the pad offeet. Then the bed creaked as

the old woman lay down, and there was silence. He waited

patiently for her to go to sleep and tried hard to glimpse the

big bed bu t could not see a thing. He convinced himself that

it would be madness to try making contact with the old man,

for the woman would wake up before he could do so and would

fill the air with screams, and all would be over. Anyway, the

mighty book would be enough for him, with the Clauses

governing the Trust and the magic spells by which the young

Gebelaawi had subdued the desert and its people. No one

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before him had imagi ned that the book was a book of magic,

because no one before him had practiced the art.

He stretched his hand up again, put his finger on the latch

and pulled the door open. He crept in and closed it behin d

him. He stood u p cautiously and breathed deeply t o steady his

taut nerves a little. Why had Gebelaawi withheld the secret of

the book from his children, even Ad ham, the one dearest to his

heart? There was a real secret, and in a few seconds he would

discover i t, as soon as his candle was lit. Ad ham had lit his long

ago, and now here was he, the son without a father, lighting

one again in the very same place. This would be told for ever

to the music of the rebec.

He lit the candle and saw a pair of eyes looking at him. I n

spite o f his shock and fear, h e realized that the eyes belonged

to an old black man, who was lying on a bed opposite the

entrance, and that he was struggling to emerge from the state

between sleeping and waking. He had been disturbed perhaps

by the scraping of the match. In a movement that was neither

voluntary nor conscious, Arafa leapt at him and put his right

hand on his throat, pressing with all his might. The old man

writhed and grabbed his hand. Arafa kicked him in the

stomach and tightened his grip on his throat. The candle fel l

from h i s left hand a n d went out. The old man m ade a last

convulsive movement in the darkness and then lay still. Arafa's

crazy hand did not loosen its grip til l his fingers went numb.

Then he drew back, panting, till his back touched the door.

As the seconds passed he suffered a hell of silent torment. He

felt his strength ebbing. Time hung heavier than si n. He might

fall down on the ground or on his victim's corpse if he could

not master this weakness. Flight called him like an irresistible

force. He would not be able to step over the body to get to the

ancient book, the accursed book. He had no courage to light

the candle again; he would rather go blind. His arms were sore,

perhaps where the man had scratched him in his desperate

struggle. He trembled to think that, while Adham's crime had

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been disobedience, his own was murder. He h ad killed a man

he did not know, and whom he had no reason to kill. He had

come i n quest of power to use against evildoers and had turned

unawares i nto an evildoer.

He turned in the darkness towards the corner where he

thought the book was fastened, then pushed the door open

and slipped out, closing it behind him. He crept along the wall

towards the way out, hesitating behind the last chair. There

were only servants to be seen in this house; where was the

master? This crime would come between him and Gebelaawi

for ever. He felt defeat and failure to the very depths ofhis soul.

He opened the door gently. The light assailed him with what

he i magi ned was a deafening roar as well as a blinding brilliance. He shut the door, tiptoed away, descended the stairs i n pitch darkness, and crossed the veranda to the garden.

Because of his exhaustion and unhappiness he was less

cautious. The man on the veranda woke up and asked: 'Who

goes there? ' Arafa crouched agai nst the wall at the end of the

veranda, his strength renewed by fear. The voice called out

again and a cat answered with a miaow. Arafa stayed in his

hiding p lace, terrified of bei ng driven to a fresh crime. When

all was quiet again he crept through the garden to the wall. He

felt for the hole till he found it and crept away as he had come.

When he had almost got to the end of the tun nel he bumped

i nto a foot. The foot kicked him on the head before he knew

what was happening.

I 0 2 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Arafa leapt on the owner ofth e foot and for a short time they

struggled. Then the other man let out a cry of rage that told

Arafa who it was. He exclaimed in surprise:

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- Hanash, you old snake!

They helped each other to climb out, and Hanash said:

- You were away so long. I went in to sniff out some news.

Breathing hard, Arafa said:

- You made a mistake, as usual; but let's go.

They went back to the sleeping Alley. When she saw him,

Awaalif shouted:

- Go and wash! Oh God ! What's this blood on your hand

and your neck?

l-Ie trembled, but did not answer. He went to wash hi mself,

but a moment later fainted. He recovered after a while and,

with the help of Awaatif and Hanash, sat down between them

on the sofa. l-Ie felt as if sleep was further away from him than

Gebelaawi was. l-Ie could no longer bear the burden of his

secret alone and told them what had happened to him on his

strange expedition. When he fi nished they were staring at him,

their eyes full of terror and despair. Awaatif murmured:

- I was against the idea from the beginning.

But 1-Ianash tried to lighten the blow.

- There's no way a crime like this can be avoided.

Arafa said:

- Bu t it's worse than the crimes of Harpstrings and the

other strongmen.

1-Ianash said:

- Mind you don't call suspicion on yourself.

- But I 've killed an old man who'd done no wrong. Who

knows, perhaps he was the servant Gebelaawi sent to Qaasim.

For a while they were plunged in a black si lence like that of

i nsomnia. Then Awaatif said:

- Hadn't we better sleep?

Arafa said:

- You two sleep. I shan ' t sleep tonigh L

They fell silent agai n. Then Hanash asked:

- Didn't you glimpse Gebelaawi or hear his voice?

He shook his head sadly.

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Children of Gebelaawi

- Not at all.

- But you saw his bed?

- Just as we see his house.

Hanash sighed.

- With you so long gone, I thoughtyou were talking to him.

- It's easy to imagine things outside the house.

Awaatif said anxiously:

- You seem feverish. You'd better sleep.

- How can I sleep?

But he felt the truth of her words in his hot and dazed state.

Hanash spoke again:

- You were within reach of the Testament and you didn't

look at it!

His face screwed up with pain. Hanash went on:

- What a disastrous journey!

- Yes ! (Then, in a new tone of determination:) But it's