Free Sahara Crosswind by T. Davis Bunn Page A

the horizon. All was still and silent and timeless.
    Jake reached into his pocket for his Bible, found his place, and read the next verse from John’s gospel, “Verily, verily, I say unto you, Whosoever committeth sin is the slave of sin. And the slave abideth not in the house for ever: but the Son abideth ever. If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed.”
    He stopped, lifted his gaze, and heard Patrique murmur to the horizon, “Free.”
    Jake reached over, clasped Patrique’s shoulder, bowed his head, and spoke the words resounding through his silent mind and heart.

Chapter Nine
    Two days later they arrived at the oasis of Raggah, a broad lake sheltered by a veritable forest of palms. When he crested the final rise and the lake came into view, Jake stopped and gaped with the others, mesmerized by the sight. In the space of three weeks, he had forgotten how beautiful so much water could be.
    Swaths of green stretched down two neighboring gullies, marking the track of streams that broke through the rock and delivered their precious load overland. Amidst the trees and brush raced a wealth of wildlife—ostriches, hyenas, gazelles, monkeys. Butterflies by the millions scoured the lake’s surface, feeding upon the water flowers and the blooming reeds that lined one bank. After days in the barren sand, Jake had difficulty taking in this sudden wealth of life.
    Across the lake from them rose a city as yellow as the barren earth that surrounded it. The Atlas Mountains rose majestic and ocher in the background. This was the first real town Jake had seen in what felt like a lifetime. Jake was not sure he liked it. He was amazed by how his perspective had changed. When he had first left the city for the desert, he had felt he was leaving all civilization behind. Now, as he left the desert for the city, he felt as though the joys of living were soon to be lost, the beauty of life recaged, and his world filled with meaningless clamor.
    Omar and Jasmyn climbed the rise to stand behind him. “Raggah is a place of great glory,” Omar said, looking out over the city. “And like all such places, a home to much tragedy. It was here that the lords of the western deserts ruled the trade routes of the northern and western Saharas. Gold, ivory, myrrh, frankincense, salt, slaves—all traders paid tribute to the rulers of Raggah.”
    He pointed out over the cloudless distance. “From thatcitadel they held life-and-death power over the local tribes. The chieftains were all-powerful, ruthless, and often cruel. When the great drought drove the Tuareg into this city, Raggah and the chieftains devoured their souls. Now the French have restricted their evil, but only to a point. Their cruelty is not ended, only held in check, like a vicious dog on the Frenchmen’s chain. Be careful here.”
    â€œDon’t worry.”
    Still Omar stood and gazed out over the city. “To my people I give the wisdom of the desert and the wealth of my camels. People in towns such as these live for money. That is not our way. That is the hunger that never ends, the thirst that is never quenched no matter how deeply they draw from the well. No, money is for those who have chosen to live as the blind.”
    Jake stood and looked out over the city and felt the words settle to the very depths of his soul.
    â€œWe hold the wealth of blood,” Omar said quietly. “By this we mean the good name of our tribe. It means we treat our animals well, we pass on the tribe’s wisdom and lore to our children, we show the desert hospitality to all. It is a wealth that lasts and does not blind one to the power of the day.”
    He turned and faced Jake square on. “I have thought long on your words of our walk together. I have decided that our two who beg to learn will go to the Christian school. They will study the knowledge of which you have spoken. They will return and teach our