Читать книгу Rayan - Son of the Desert - Indira Jackson - Страница 26

The threat was a great limitation for Rayan in the following days. No matter if it was inbound or outbound, there were strict controls when entering or leaving the premises. This went for people as well as for vehicles.

For example, controls for the Humvees, with which they normally did their excursions, were installed using mirrors to see the vehicles from underneath.

Additionally there were sniffer dogs that were sniffing for explosives.

Furthermore, the general controls were intensified within the city and also into the surrounding desert, so he was on duty almost every day.

About three weeks after his visit to Clara’s parents the first car bomb exploded, right in front of the General’s house. It was obvious that he had been the target and it was only thanks to the extra guards that were put in front of his house that no one was hurt.

From this day on Clara was only allowed to go out accompanied by two personal security officers, which reduced their time together even more.

Therefore it was a great relief and Rayan was happy when Clara sent him a message some days later. She informed him that she was planning to leave the base right after mass on Sunday to visit the bazaar and she would be pleased if he could join her.

As he was a Muslim and he did not attend the service inside the base, they agreed that he would go ahead and meet her later at the fountain on the eastern edge of the market.

The bazaar of Rabea Akbar was one of the highlights in this otherwise very quiet town and took place every Sunday morning. The date was a result of the American soldiers who usually all went to church and had some free time afterwards. This was a good opportunity to spend part of their pay in the bazaar. Normally the holy day of the week for the local people was Fridays, but they had adapted to holding the market according to their customers. The square was rectangular and one stand was right next to the other. The smell of spices, herbs and all different kinds of food were mixed with the odour of animals and a lot of people.

Carpets, lamps and garments were offered, as well as chickens, camels and jewels.

Those who did not haggle over the price had themselves to blame if they were cheated.

Also the sounds were typical for a bazaar: there was total chaos in the cheering of the merchants who tried to compete with their neighbours, mixed with animal sounds and car horns. It seemed that someone was always trying to drive right through the market in spite of the prohibition of vehicles.

Visitors were either on foot or came with rusty old cars from far away; some even came with donkeys like in the old times.

Rayan was sitting on the edge of the fountain. He had already roamed through the market and admired the different goods.

He loved that kind of turmoil. Even though he usually preferred the quietness of the desert, he liked the colourful action, which was so similar to the same kind of bazaars in the oases. This reminded him of when he had joined the merchants from Zarifa as a little child.

The basin of the fountain was only two meters long and went in a semicircle to the nearest wall of one of the houses, which was why the water was in the shade. Rayan took advantage of that because it was already becoming hot again.

He looked at the mosaic of little tiles, but he had to admit that it did not really tell him anything. It was Clara that usually remarked on these features and berated him for always being “a typical man” when he was not impressed by them. He was just about to put his hand playfully into the water, when an explosion made the market shake.

The blast’s power was so strong that he was thrown backward from the fountain’s pond onto the ground. When he tried to get up again he had to shake his head several times to get rid of the dizziness that had taken hold of him. He had a ringing sound in his ears but fortunately after some time it disappeared. It seemed like he had been far enough away. He tried to comprehend from which direction the explosion had come. Thanks to Allah the market had not been the target, because everywhere people, who had also been dragged to the ground by the blast or had thrown themselves there in panic and hope for cover, started to get up again. .

There was chaos everywhere. Horses bolted and ran around the stands, chickens and other poultry were fluttering around wildly. Rayan could hear single cries, but he was not sure from which direction they were coming. He supposed that some just gave vent to their fright, without really being injured.

As he turned around and looked down the street behind him, he could see at a distance of about 100 meters away the burning left-overs of a car.

Full of terror Rayan realised that this was the way that led to the base. It was the path the American soldiers would take after mass to get to the market. The street in which Clara would come along as well. Fear coiled up in his throat and he started to run to the site. As he got nearer he could see that the assassination had been targeted towards a group of Americans. More than one injured man was lying on the ground, moaning full of pain. Others did not move at all.

Some meters away from the car wreck he found Clara. Obviously the body of one of her personal guards had partly saved her from the explosion. The man had been heavy and his hair had been red, as far as was still recognizable. He must have been killed immediately.

Rayan bent his knees downwards and took Clara’s head into his lap. He tried to smooth the shaking sound within his voice and to talk to her reassuringly, but he could see immediately that no doctor would be able to help her anymore. She tried to speak and he brought his ear down so he could understand her. “Yasin – I love you … from the very first moment I have loved you”, she whispered weakly. He forced an agonized smile: “I know! From the very first moment I knew it.” She tried to smile but a last cramp went through her body and then she lay still. Stunned as if under the influence of drugs, he only partly realised that all around him helpers were arriving, who began to extinguish the fire and to attend to the injured. Someone cried loudly for an ambulance. It was like seeing through a dense fog. Rayan had not even cried at the death of his mother when he was just seven years old, but now he was weeping helplessly like a small child, as if all the dams had burst.

For the first time he let his tears run free and he cried for Clara, his mother and his whole damned life.