the stranger continued to hold the sword at the boy's forehead. "why did you read the flight of the birds?"
"i read only what the birds wanted to tell me. they wanted to save the oasis. tomorrow all of you will die, because there are more men at the oasis than you have."
the sword remained where it was. "who are you to change what allah has willed?"
"allah created the armies, and he also created the hawks. allah taught me the language of the birds. everything has been written by the same hand," the boy said, remembering the camel driver's words.
the stranger withdrew the sword from the boy's forehead, and the boy felt immensely relieved. but he still couldn't flee.
"be careful with your prognostications," said the stranger. "when something is written, there is no way to change it."
"all i saw was an army," said the boy. "i didn't see the outcome of the battle."
the stranger seemed satisfied with the answer. but he kept the sword in his hand. "what is a stranger doing in a strange land?"
"i am following my destiny. it's not something you would understand."
the stranger placed his sword in its scabbard, and the boy relaxed.
"i had to test your courage," the stranger said. "courage is the quality most essential to understanding the language of the world."
the boy was surprised. the stranger was speaking of things that very few people knew about.
"you must not let up, even after having come so far," he continued. "you must love the desert, but never trust it completely. because the desert tests all men: it challenges every step, and kills those who become distracted."
what he said reminded the boy of the old king.
"if the warriors come here, and your head is still on your shoulders at sunset, come and find me," said the stranger.
the same hand that had brandished the sword now held a whip. the horse reared again, raising a cloud of dust.
"where do you live?" shouted the boy, as the horseman rode away.
the hand with the whip pointed to the south.
the boy had met the alchemist.
next morning, there were two thousand armed men scattered throughout the palm trees at al-fayoum. before the sun had reached its high point, five hundred tribesmen appeared on the horizon. the mounted troops entered the oasis from the north; it appeared to be a peaceful expedition, but they all carried arms hidden in their robes. when they reached the white tent at the center of al-fayoum, they withdrew their scimitars and rifles. and they attacked an empty tent.
the men of the oasis surrounded the horsemen from the desert and within half an hour all but one of the intruders were dead. the children had been kept at the other side of a grove of palm trees, and saw nothing of what had happened. the women had remained in their tents, praying for the safekeeping of their husbands, and saw nothing of the battle, either. were it not for the bodies there on the ground, it would have appeared to be a normal day at the oasis.
the only tribesman spared was the commander of the battalion. that afternoon, he was brought before the tribal chieftains, who asked him why he had violated the tradition. the commander said that his men had been starving and thirsty, exhausted from many days of battle, and had decided to take the oasis so as to be able to return to the war.
the tribal chieftain said that he felt sorry for the tribesmen, but that the tradition was sacred. he condemned the commander to death without honor. rather than being killed by a blade or a bullet, he was hanged from a dead palm tree, where his body twisted in the desert wind.
the tribal chieftain called for the boy, and presented him with fifty pieces of gold. he repeated his story about joseph of egypt, and asked the boy to become the counselor of the oasis.
