Syuib's Qalam: The end of our lands

The wind blows steadily at my robe. The cloth flaps following the motion of the air. Standing unmoved, I await patiently and stare straight ahead. I await outside the tent with Farouk and Jamal, for they stand guard for our safety. Farouk with his eyes on the tent and Jamal on the lookout. A bird screeches above us.

Guards at the tent stare back at us suspiciously, holding their spears close. though the desert wind blows strongly now, these guards move not a single muscle.

"Does it usually take this long?" asked I.

"You know it yourself poet that the message must be delivered in its original form. The Caliph will take as long as he wants." replied Jamal.

I half-smirk half-wince, also trying to withstand the heat and blinding light. An eagle flies overhead.

After a while the reciting voices die out and the Caliph walks out with the tribesmen leader. A shaman perhaps, I am not sure of his status.

The leader has blond hair like that of sand. His eyes black like shadows, watching our every move. The Caliph and him shake hands and part ways.

"How did it go my Lord?" I asked but the Caliph simply nods to both of his henchmen and we are walking straight to our rides. He says nothing for the most part. I may not be familiar with the ways of Dawah but I can tell it didn't go as planned.

The Caliph holds his hand up high and gives the salam to our hosts. They wave back and we leave. We ride out of the encampment and continue into the desert.

"Where to my Lord?" asked Farouk.

"We keep heading Northwest, towards the frozen lands. The desert people have heard of us enough." answered the Caliph.

The winds start to die out, it is a calm quiet afternoon. Too quiet perhaps for the Caliph. He looks at the overhead sun and surveys the land carefully. He seems troubled by the journey ahead while I, can't seem to let go of our previous encounter. We have had many visits to various tribes and encampments yet we have achieved nothing.

Finally the Caliph slows down and moves towards Jamal. "Jamal, scout ahead and report back. I am sensing something wrong." commands the Caliph.

"At once my Lord" exclaims Jamal and with one fluid motion, jumps off his steed leaving his baggage. He leaves his robe and native spear on his ride and doing so exposes some parts of his spotted body fur. He lets his long feline tail hanging. I have heard some about Jamal's people, plains runners who at first hunted with their teeth but soon evolved into using more civilized weaponry. Now they are a proud race of hunters and farmers carrying their gifted personal spears wherever they go.

The African born stretches his limbs and starts to skip forward. He starts slow but slowly picks up the pace. Soon enough my eyes only see a mirage of his image running at incredible speed.

We move further forward albeit much slower than our athletic companion.

"My lord, if i would be so bold to say. Shouldn't we try to persuade them harder my lord? We come from the very same lands. We almost live the same way. Why waste our times speaking of peace when we can achieve faster results through slightly more aggressive persuasion. The end justifies the means as they say." I asked.

"Quiet yourself Poet. You know not the delicate ways of Dawah. Persuasion and aggression is always frowned upon by the Prophet. Do not question the Caliph's ways..." remarked Farouk.

"Enough. We have no time for this. I sense someone or something following us." interrupts the Caliph. He awaits something over the horizon, patiently.

And then suddenly in an instant, a bright orange light comes zooming towards us, faster than the desert wind. It comes crashing to a halt nearby creating a flurry of dust and sand.

I was shocked by this but both Farouk and the Caliph seem calm as if witnessing this before. They walk first towards the crash site.

Closer i found it to be only Jamal, crouched on all of his four limbs panting heavily and exposing his fangs. The hair on the back of his neck stands tall and tears run down his black streaks on his face. Farouk comes and gives him some water.

"I saw... (pants) a creature... (pants) running away as soon as it saw me... (pants heavily). I almost caught up to him but somehow... somehow it took flight and disappeared in the blinding desert sun. I have lost him since then." explains Jamal.

The Caliph frowns, "Worry not, it wishes only to observe us. If it was hostile it would've attacked us by now. Probably a scout for a bigger party."

"A scout? From the sand tribe?" I asked.

"Perhaps not. It has followed us even before we reached here. Never mind that then, we must continue our journey. Well done Jamal. Let us move."

"At your service my Lord" replies Jamal.

Jamal gets back on his steed and holds his spear close to his side. Ready, we ride out.

Farther up, our party leaves the desert sands and arrive to grassy plains. I look overhead, and admire the cloudy grey skies. This land is wet and cold. I don't like it. Even in this climate no birds fly overhead. Perhaps rain is coming or perhaps something else. My Arabian skin is easily irritated by water, especially cold rain.

I have never been to these lands. Neither have any of us but this is what we were set out to do. To travel northwest, meet new tribes and spread the word. I pray that the scout earlier isn't part of a more savage tribe. I pray that the natives aren't hostile. But I can only pray. The world holds many surprises. I have a feeling we will be meeting a native tribe soon, and I have a feeling it won't be a friendly encounter such as before.

Syuib's Qalam: My companions

We ride for miles. We have left late but we must arrive early. The Caliph and his bodyguards ride up front. My own steed tries its best to catch up but are no match for the Caliph's camels. Them and the Caliph's right hand man, Farouk.

Now Farouk is a natural born warrior. He runs strong and tall, never a step back from wind or blizzards. Always strong beside the Caliph. Eyes wild, making sure we're safe. His stride is steady yet graceful. If I hadn't known better I would've mistaken him as the Buraq should I see him from a distance.

We spoke very little for the first day. By now the sun paints red streaks in the sky, signaling its rest for the day.

"We can make camp up ahead my lord. A small stream runs up ahead." says Farouk, and that was the first time i heard him spoke.

The Caliph nods in agreement. Happy to rest, I smile to Farouk, but he doesn't smile back. In fact Farouk has never smiled ever since we started to ride together. His brow frowns most of the time and his mouth rarely opens unless to speak of something necessary. When ordered by the Caliph, he only nods and affirms in one short sentence. Being the cautious one, Farouk walks off to secure the perimeter, while we all prepared for Wudu.

After Maghrib, we rested, tending to our packed meals. Only a small fire is made, just enough to keep us warm. Whilst checking parchments, I sat next to Farouk. He sits taller than me despite resting his four legs on the soft ground. Though at rest, he has his weapon close to him, ready for anything. As he bite on his loaf of bread, he stares at me while I flipped through my writings.

"How long have you been writing?" asked Farouk.

"As early as I can remember holding the quill in my hand" I replied.

"Then you will write about us well"

"Indeed I will. And how long have you been a warrior?" I asked.

"As early as I remember holding a sword in my two hands. And yes, I will keep us safe and well. No man will harm you" Said he.

I looked at his strong build, convinced. "Or centaur" I suggested.

"Or anything" he replied.

We didn't exchange much words after that. We were mostly silent throughout the night. The others slept soundly except me. I couldn't help staring at the star lit sky, pondering about my journey up ahead. What dangers lies ahead and what sort of people we shall meet on the way. The anticipation to write about my future experiences excite me. But even an imaginative poet as I gets tired of thinking, or wondering. Putting down my qalam and writings aside, I decide that I should probably rest my excited mind for tomorow. As I turn to my side to try and sleep, I noticed that Farouk wasn't really sleeping at all. Though his eyes are closed, he opened them once in a while to look around.

Curious, I asked "Won't you be tired later tomorrow?"

"It is my duty. I must be sure of our safety. Besides, my kind doesn't sleep much. We were made to run through the fields, not rest for a whole night."

"You will keep wake for every night?"

"Not every night. Some nights I let Khalid stand guard."

"Then I will rest easy knowing that we are safe. You have my thanks. Good night Farouk."

He simply nods and closes his eyes.

Early after Fajr prayers, we packed our stuff and prepared to continue our journey. As we wait for the sun to shine some light on the dark land, Farouk asked me.

"Tell me poet, if you were to write about me in your parchments, how would you describe me, telling me apart from other centaurs?"

"Describe you by your physique? Never!"

"How then?"

"Like I would describe a man. Only stronger. Much stronger. Strong not in your stallion legs or your powerful arms. Strong in your stance, your readiness for battle. In your loyalty to our Caliph." I explained.

Farouk's face slowly cracks a smile, the first I have seen in my journeys.

The Caliph has observed us for a while and comments on this with a smirk. "Then let us ride strong, for the sun is about to rise"

The Caliph got on his steed and by the first sign of light, we rode out.

We ride far and wide. Across grassy plateaus and rocky hills. Nothing will stop us. Wind, rain, or any beast. Nothing, for as long as we have Farouk keeping us guard.

Syuib's Qalam

"You will follow the Caliph even to the Icy North."

And he repeated that twice, to make sure I understood that.

"Even to the Icy North"

Of course I agreed. Anything for the respected Caliph. Why I'd even be flattered to just be in charge of keeping his shoes safe whilst he attends his Isha'a, let alone be given the task to follow his personal Dawah journeys and record them in my writings.

"The path will be long and perilous, but that is why we chose you Syuib. You and no other"

Why? Because I am the infamous Syuib, the wandering poet, part time writer. It is not my writing that fascinates them. It is my will and constitution in my creativity, through hard times and under constant danger, will I be able to record every single event in detail. And that is why I'm chosen. Others will break and falter in battle, writers I mean. Me, I was taught the quill by my mother and the sword by my father. I fear not battle, I long for it. To see the Caliph wield his spectacular forked sword would be spectacular. Why I'd write many poems describing his grace.

"Refrain from battle, focus on your stories. The Caliph has his bodyguards, you just worry about your poems."

By the prophet's beard, that's what I was born to do.

So begins my journey with the Caliph. We travel by camelback through the grassy plateau, west, towards the setting sun. The message has to be spread, the world must know, and I will follow them as they bring it to the ends of the land. Only Allah knows how thrilled I am with this.

I just hope the western tribes aren't too hostile with our party. We may come in peace, but we also come well prepared.

"Have you got your Quill and parchments ready Syuib? " asked the Caliph.

"I have my Lord. Forever light to record our journeys." said I.

"Then let us ride now. The sun is near to set and the winged beasts of north will come out at night. My stomach is empty and we must make camp soon. Will you follow me Syuib?"

Our camels start to gallop, leaving our oasis city, towards the setting sun. My gut feels as if jinns are tickling it from the inside. I smile to the Caliph and ride side by side by him. His bodyguards ride further up front.

"Even to the Icy North my lord. Even to the Icy North. "