Thief

The caravan moved slowly under the heat of the sun at high noon. The hooves of the camels sunk deeply into burning sand, the wind swept the tops of the dunes across the air like a dream. The heat waved to and fro, and even though he was shaded under layers of clothes, he was sweating, panting and tired.

She came to him in a dream. There was something heavenly about her when she was illuminated by a single northern star in the desert night. She offered her hand to him and looked at this prince of thieves as though she needed help. He was a rogue, a vagabond, a selfish person. All of this changed when he woke up under a palm tree in a desolate oasis in the center of hell.

His given name was Ahkmid Al Sadim, but he rejected the name of his nobility. He was to be a prince until his father, the king, was beheaded with a scimitar. The rise of a new empire and a new government took over and denounced the nobility of the blood kin. They were to be executed immediately on sight. His mother saved him at the cost of her own life.

He sought revenge on those who took his noble name and to honor his father. The denounced prince refused a name and turned west to the holy land. Jerusalem would aid in his attack on reclaiming his title. So he had thought and so he was destined to journey.

The girl in his dreams, he didn't know how she fit into his plan. He knew it was more than a mild dream and it was something to think about as he marched westward. He didn't know her name, but he could not refuse that she was real.

The thief pan handled when he had to, bread and water were a scarce commodity out in the villages. They starved under the new empire and each village he visited on his trip to the holy land made him that much more angry. How could this new government do such things to their people? He questioned why, but he dare not spoke to any of it. There was no telling who was on which side.

Sadim made it to the great walls of the city of Jerusalem. He went inside and instantly he was bombarded by thousands of people coming and going from the market square. He asked several merchants where the Synagogue was located. They all pointed to the heart of the city. The thief made haste, dodging and swerving to and fro. He wasn't armed. His weapons were left at the city gates.

The synagogue was massive. The prince had never seen such a magnificent sight before. Awed by its construction he dropped to his knees. While others were buying goats and chickens for the slaughter, pass over was soon and the city would become crowded by pilgrims that wanted to praise God.

He entered the synagogue and was instantly met by a rabbi who shunned the Muslim away. The prince was not Jewish, but his requests were met with more disdain than he. The thief was not welcomed in the palace of God and he turned away angry. He shook his head and sought refuge in a small two story inn.

He rented the room using Jewish dinars, but for the price he paid, he only received a hard wooden floor and a blanket in a room without walls that housed several families. The air was stuffy and they didn't speak the same tongue as he. They still welcomed him to their dinner feast. Bread and wine was abundant, this family must have money. He saw a side of the Jewish people that in his teachings would never happen. Maybe they would treat him differently if they knew he was Muslim. He would not tell them.

He slept that night, but he did not sleep well. He heard the crying of children and the sounds of mothers tending to the sick. As beautiful as the city was, it had its own problems. He shuffled in the night and overheard parts of a conversation in a similar tongue as his own. They spoke of the growing concerns in Turkey. He heard about his homeland and the uprising of a tyrant. His birth place and his rightful place seated beside Muhammad.

The thief nudges the men near the corner of the room at dawn. The golden rays of the sun shun in thin beams through the torn fabric which covered the open window. The room looked worse in the light than it was under a single candle when he had entered at dusk the night before. He could see two dozen people hugging around one another for warmth from the chilly desert cold.

He saw many of them sick and malnourished. Pilgrims he assumed.

The two men awoke immediately and eyed the thief suspiciously. Their names were Abraham and Jeremiah. Common Jewish names for the day, he thought. The thief asked to hear about the northern tyrants and he found out much of their plans. He asked if they would help him reclaim his authority. They were skeptical, they chuckled at him and went to turn about to get sleep, showing their backs to him.

The thief pulled many golden Turkish coins from his pocket and shows the men he was not lying. The two Jews did not care about the story nor if what the thief said was true, but he did speak their language. They spoke for another hour in whispers and as the sun rose over the high walls protecting Jerusalem from enemies, they took the thief to the camel stables.

The stable keeper was a large man and he smelled terrible. He hadn't bathed in ages, but he seemed uncaring. He seemed as if he was not at peace with god. The thief took the opportunity to introduce himself and tactfully showed several gold coins to favor the large man's interest.
It took some time to sway the man, but there wasn't anything left for the stable keeper here in Jerusalem. The man wasn't even Jewish. He was Christian and he was born in Britain. He came to find god, but he only found menial labor for his troubles. Perhaps God spoke unto him and he believed this was his purpose. To aid the thief and to take him back to Turkey.

The thief took the camels and loaded supplies for the long journey north to Judea where they would settle for the night. Jeremiah knew many people in the city and would ask his favors be returned. In their culture, it wasn't a request as much as a demand. Before the end of the day, the thief had a handful of men to help him travel back to Ankara, the capital city of Turkey.
The caravan moved slowly, the journey was met with the harshest of the Arab summers. They had lost a camel in the heat, but they went forward anyways. They packed only what was necessary for the trip. When they reached the border, they would again be met with hostility, but the thief had friends and he would exploit them.

Once inside the country, he could rally troops. He could regain his heritage and bring peace to his countrymen. He must first survive the journey. The thief had seen raiders in the distance and it was apparent they were being tracked. He tried to console the men in his caravan, but he knew they would strike at them before too much longer. These raiders, he knew much about. He once was of their kind after exile.

The thief was destined to succeed at whatever cost. The dream he had, he felt, would show him the path. She would protect him. Whoever she was, she was with him in spirit and he felt stronger than before. Even as the sun beat down the caravan and the cold nights froze the ground. He would succeed. So he said he was destined by God.