The Caliph and his Crown

3

Zaara stepped over Leena, who was already depths deep in her slumber. Remorse filled Zaara's chest as she realized this would be the last time she would see her best friend. She crouched down, lightly touching her hand to Leena's cheek. My sister, please do not mourn me. She placed her note beside her body and took a deep breath, before leaving her old life behind forever. 

The night winds were cold and relentless, but Zaara always took it over the day's blistering heat. She waited impatiently under the giant Banyan tree at the edge of the village. There was no other way to travel to Sarin for free other than hopping into the wagon stuffed full of bags of grain. Although this month the wagon looked much emptier, even just the sight of it made her feel claustrophobic. Iman, the delivery man, gave her a sympathetic look. Her knuckles were white around her bag, clutching her last reminder of home. She pulled herself into the back, situated herself between two large sacks of starch, and watched as her village grew smaller in the distance.

Zaara woke when the steady rattling of the wagon stopped. The sun had long set and the air around her had grown cool. She looked up to see a tall metal gate looming over her. "This is it little bee" whispered Iman as he picked up a bag of rice, "when the guards are busy inspecting the shipments, make a run for it. You should be able to crawl under their post." Zaara nodded, glancing at the guards and what she assumed was their post. It was a small metal building, suspended up from the ground with pillars which were probably put in place to prevent flooding. The opening was covered with a thin wall of chain, which looked easy enough to peel away. There was only about a foot of clearance, but the last months of having hardly anything to eat had prevented her from being too big wiggle through. Iman only had to bring a few more bags onto the inspection table, where the guards were already immersed in scanning and weighing the packages. The guard inside the post looked half asleep and there was so little light that she suspected he wouldn't even be able to see her if he was standing right in front of her. So much for tight security. "There are supposed to be 30 bags of wheat, not 23" barked a guard, staring menacingly at Iman. "How can you expect us to be at our normal rates? When we can see our children's bones and hear their cries for hunger?" Iman retorted, stepping up to the guard, the others closed in around him, desperately trying to preventing a scuffle. Zaara seized her chance. Ungracefully, she rolled out of the back of the wagon and onto the hard dirt ground. She crawled under the wagon and over to the post. Her heart pounded like thunder inside her chest. Fear filled her whole body, still she continued to make her way to the post, stopping only to ensure that she hadn't been discovered. The voices of Iman and the guards became distant as she crawled farther and farther away. Finally Zaara reached the guard's post, her arms shook from the exertion. As quietly as she could, Zaara pushed aside the thin chain fence, revealing a narrow opening. She pressed her chest onto the ground, inching her way between the floor of the guard's post and the dirt ground. She could hear the sounds of the people now. The bustling city was booming , even in the middle of the night. Zaara peeled the second metal grate away, revealing dozens of feet and wheels. Panic rushed through her. If anyone saw her enter, would they give her away? She waited for a large donkey drawn wagon to move, and then she emerged from under the post. Quickly, she walked away from the wall and the guard's post. Shockingly, no one even glanced at her.