Stormdragons

Chapter 25

Spud was extremely pleased with his landing, despite the fact that the flying carpet seemed to do it all for him.

'Neat landing, eh? What would you say: nine, nine and a half out of ten?'

'No, I got some sand on my shoes. It would have to be eight, max,' said Mac.

They had landed right outside the entrance to Sheik Suleiman's large blue tent. One of the guards immediately ran off to fetch the Captain; the other stood with his spear pointed towards them and a worried expression on his face. Clare spoke softly to Spud and Mac.

'No sudden moves, boys. A sharp spear and a nervous guard is not a good combination,' she said.

The Captain of the Guard appeared at the run, his sword drawn. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw who it was.

'You!' he exclaimed.

'Yes, us. We'd like to speak with the Sheik please. It's very important,' said Clare.

The Captain frowned. These strangers unsettled him. They didn't seem much of a threat but they brought nothing but trouble. He'd like to ignore them or lock them up but that might get him into trouble. He examined the carpet. Genuine flying carpets were rare and precious. The Sheik would want to see it, and to find out how these idiots had got hold of one and whether it was for sale. With a shrug and a sigh, he turned away and went into the tent.

'We'd better stay on the rug in case things go wrong and we need to make a quick getaway,' whispered Clare.

Spud put on a macho expression.

'Don't worry. I could have us out of here in no time,' he said.

'Hey, it's my turn to drive,' said Mac.

Clare shut them both up before they started one of their interminable arguments.

'Now don't forget, Spud. The Sheik is a sexist idiot, so you'll have to do all the talking.'

A commotion from inside the tent and the sound of bear-like growling heralded the arrival of the Sheik. His hooked nose and hooded eyes looked horribly familiar. Spud swallowed. The memory of those gnarled hands around his throat was still all too vivid. The Sheik, however, looked pleased to see them.

'Ah, you have returned. You have brought me my money?'

'I'm afraid not, O Lord Whose Tent Is Like A Palace,' said Spud.

The Sheik frowned.

'Perhaps this carpet is your present to me; a reward for the mercy, kindness and good business sense I showed to you,' he said.

'Not exactly, O Prince of the Palm Trees, King of the Sand Oceans,' said Spud.

The Sheik looked around.

'I heard you have performed many times. So where is my money? Mehmed! Mehmed, where are you?'

Clare's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Mehmed's name.

'Where is that ungrateful orphan wretch? I take him in, bring him up as one of my own and this is how he repays me! By disobeying my orders! By running off with my money!'

The Sheik was working himself up into quite a temper. Clare nudged Spud.

'Mehmed is in great danger,' he said.

'Good! Serves him right,' said the Sheik.

Clare could stand it no longer. They were wasting time and every minute was precious.