I expected Mr Ambrose to charge at the bandits single-handedly. I expected bullets to fly and gallons of blood to flow. I expected a terrifying battle. What I didn't expect was Mr Ambrose sliding from his camel, falling to his knees and throwing his rifle away.

'Please! Please don't hurt us! We are just merchants! We mean nobody any harm. Please don't hurt us!'

I stared at him open-mouthed.

The foremost bandit, the leader, to judge by the arrogant smirk on his face, pulled his camel to a halt in front of Mr Ambrose and spat on the ground.

'English pig! So much for your famous "stiff upper lip"! Tell your men to throw their weapons away!'

'Men!' Mr Ambrose called, his voice trembling, yes, actually trembling with fear! 'Throw your weapons away, immediately! These people won't harm us if we don't resist!'

The bandit laughed.

'I didn't say anything about that, pig! Out of my way!'

'But...'

Mr Ambrose didn't get any further. Driving his camel forward, the bandit leader rode directly at him, and Mr Ambrose had just enough time to throw himself out of the way. Riding directly into the centre of the valley, the leader raised his gun over his head and shot into the sky, silencing everyone.

'All right, men!' he hollered. 'Gather up the weapons! Drive the camels to the east of the valley, and those English pigs to the west!'

So far, I had watched the whole proceedings with mouth agape. But now my stunned brain jumped into action. I drove my camel forward and bent down to pick up Mr Ambrose's fallen rifle from the ground.

'Hey, you!' A shot rang out over my head. 'Stop that!'

I was just about to right myself and return fire – if I could figure out how a rifle worked in three seconds, that is – when a hard hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me down from the camel. A moment later I was flat on the ground, encaged in Mr Ambrose's arms.

'Forgive my wife!' he pleaded with the bandits. 'She's had a heatstroke. She's not right in the head!' And into my ear, he hissed in his usual, cold, commanding tone: 'If you don't keep still, I will knock you out, understand?'

I froze. That didn't sound like the voice of a defeated man. That sounded suspiciously like a man with a plan.

'Your wife?' The bandit barked a laugh. 'You've got one woman among you all, and she's the only one who is man enough to pick up a rifle! That is a good joke! So much for the famed courage of the English! Now, do as you're told! Get over to the west of the valley, or I'll shoot you down here and now!'

Rising to his feet and pulling me up with him, Mr Ambrose led me over to the west side of the valley, all the while keeping a tight hold on me. Bandits rode around us and all the others in circles, herding everybody off to the west, shouting 'Move! Do as we tell you, and you won't get hurt!'. Nobody was fooled by the show they were putting on. I could see it in my companions' faces: they knew what awaited them. All the previous caravans had been massacred. This one would be, too. The bandits were just dangling the possibility of life in front of us so we wouldn't resist. And so far, it seemed to be working.

Or was it?

I caught a glimpse of the cold, calculating look in Mr Ambrose's dark eyes, and suddenly wasn't so sure anymore. But then the look was gone again, replaced by abject terror and whining submission.

'Please!' he begged the bandits. 'Please don't take everything! I invested all my whole fortune into this caravan! If you take everything, you'll leave me a beggar! Please!'

The bandits roared with laughter. Not content with that, one of them stepped up behind my dear employer and booted him soundly in the behind. Flying forward, he landed face-first in the dirt.

My lips twitched. Well, now, even if I was going to die today, maybe it was worth it just for having seen this.

'Please!' Getting up again, he slipped through the row of bandits and hurried to one of the camels they had herded together. 'Please, don't take this one! Take all the others, but not this one!'

The laughter subsided. Suddenly, anticipation crackled in the air. All eyes flew to the camel beside Mr Ambrose.

'Why?' Brows furrowed, the bandit leader drove his mount towards my employer, stopping only a yard or two away. 'What's so special about this particular camel?'

'I... I... I don't know! Just please! Leave me just this one. You can have all the others, but please...'

'Is there a treasure in the saddlebags? Gold? Silver?'

Fear flickered over Mr Ambrose's face. 'No! No, nothing at all! The saddlebags are empty! Please, don't take it! Please, you can take all the others, but please...'

'Out of my way, you snivelling worm!' Sliding down from his camel, the bandit leader marched towards Mr Ambrose and shoved him out of the way. He was so intent on the saddlebags that he didn't notice Mr Ambrose crawling away rather fast for someone who, just a moment ago, seemed to have been determined to protect this particular camel. 'Now, let's see what's in here.'

Unfastening the buckles, the bandit leader opened the first saddlebag – and the camel exploded.

*~*~**~*~*

I must admit, it took me quite by surprise. I'm from Westminster. We don't often meet exploding camels in our neighbourhood. But, here in this place, things seemed to be different. Apparently, one exploding camel wasn't enough. The others wanted to join the fun, and the moment the fire of the first explosion reached the next bleating furry molehill on legs, it blew up too. In a few fiery seconds of chaos, the entire east side of the valley was blown to bits, including every bandit and camel in it.

A moment later someone shoved me from behind, and I fell to the ground. Looking up, I saw Youssef standing protectively over me, a rifle suddenly in his hand. Where the hell had he gotten that? Other men of our party were pulling out rifles, too, and aiming. Had they had hidden weapons all along?

'Attack!' His ice-cold command drew my eyes back to Mr Ambrose. He was rolling over and pulling out a revolver from his tailcoat pocket.

Bam!

The first bullet caught the nearest bandit in the head and hurled him off his camel. 'Attack! Get them, men! Kill them all!'

Hs men seemed more than glad to follow that order. Bullets whizzed over my head like a swarm of deadly bees. Screams rang out, and moments later, the half dozen bandits that had been surrounding us fell dead to the ground. Taking up a formation like a professional regiment, our caravan started firing at the rest.

Not that there were many left. Most of them, gathered around the camels when they blew up, had been ripped apart by the explosions. The few who were left didn't run, though.

'A trap!' shouted someone over the racket of the gunfire. 'It's a trap! Kill the English pigs, or Radi will have your head!'

I spat out sand and raised my head. 'Radi? Who the hell is Radi?'

Youssef grabbed me, shoved me down again and fired another shot at the bandits. 'How should I know? The chief leader of the bandits, maybe! Stay down!'

'Give me a gun, and I won't have to stay down!'

'The Effendi gave strict orders that you were not to be given a weapon under any circumstances.'

'Oh, he did, did he?'

Sooner or later, we were going to have a chat about that.

'Yes! And I agree! With the bandits, we have one deadly danger to face already, we don't need another! Now stay down!'

Bullets shot across the valley in deadly droves. From what I could see whenever I managed to raise my head long enough to catch a glimpse, the bandits were holding their own. Once, I saw Mr Ambrose at the other end of the line, commanding his men and shooting. But even his cold glare couldn't drive the bandits away.

'We aren't winning, are we?' I asked Youssef while he was reloading.

'Have patience.'

'That's all very well for you to say! You're not lying face-first in the dirt!'

'You won't have to lie down much longer! Look up!'

'You just told me to stay down!'

'Well, things are changing, baaša. Look up!'

I did, just as the sound of more guns joined the cacophony of battle. Past all the smoke and shouting men and blazing guns, past everything up on the hills in the east, I saw riders appearing. A dozen? Two? No, soon there were more than that. They had to number at least a hundred, all sitting on camelback, and all shooting at our enemies.

'What in God's name is going on?' I yelled over the noise of gunfire.

'You didn't think the explosives in the saddle bags were just a trap, did you?' Youssef laughed. 'The Effendi never does anything for just one reason. The explosion was a signal. More men have been following us ever since we left Alexandria, far enough away so nobody would notice, but close enough to hear a herd of exploding camels! I was slightly worried for a time that they had lost us in the sandstorm, but then the scouts made contact yesterday.'

'He knew? He knew there were reinforcements, and he didn't tell me?'

'Yes.'

'I'm going to kill him!'

'Feel free to try, baaša.'

As he spoke, more men started appearing to the west and the north. At a glance, I would have said they had to number at least three hundred. That bastard! That bloody, stone-faced, close-mouthed bastard!

Bandits were falling all over the place, shot in the back or in the sides. The ones left still alive cowered down in the sand, shooting wildly in all directions, their eyes wide with terror. For a supposedly timid caravan of traders, we were proving entirely too tough and nasty. Those who still had live camels underneath them kicked the animals into motion and darted towards the last few hills around the valley that were still free of attackers.

I scrambled to my feet.

'Bloody hell! We can't let them get away like that!' I glared at Youssef. 'Give me a gun!'

He shook his head. 'I'm sorry, baaša. I have my orders.'

Shooting him another glare, I bent down to pick up a good-sized pebble from the ground. 'Good riddance!' I hurled it after a retreating bandit. It squarely hit his camel on the rump. 'Go bugger a banana!'

Only a few dozen yards away, I spotted Ambrose (the camel version), still loitering well away from the craters that had swallowed the fellow members of his species. The foxy old bugger! So he had survived, had he? Excellent! I started to run.

'Baaša! Wait!' a shout came from behind me. But I didn't listen to Youssef. I wasn't really in the mood to listen to anyone right now. I just ran, blood pumping hot in my ears, my eyes fixed on the fleeing bandits.

Just when I was about to swing myself up into Ambrose's saddle, a rider on another camel shot past me. I only saw him in a blur, but there was no mistaking that black colour. All the other men wore the white burnous. And there was no mistaking his voice, either.

'After them! Follow me, men!'

Cold. Hard. Commanding.

No, there was no mistaking that voice indeed. With a deadly smile, I pulled myself the rest of the way up into the saddle and urged Ambrose up and forward. Time to skewer some bandits!

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My dear Lords, Ladies & Gentlemen,

I have marvelous news! There's a fantastic brand-new trailer out on YouTube, made especially for my latest stoy, "Black Diaries", in cooperation between me & one of my artistically talented fans. I've posted the trailer via YouTube, and since Wattpad introduced a nifty little feature a while ago which allows authors to imbed videos into their installments, I thought I would bring you the trailer right here inside this chapter!

Please tell me what you think of this cinematic work of art, and if it's pleasing to you, like it on YouTube! Thanks so much for your fantabulous support! :)

https://youtu.be/pBM1Wo5d8D4

Yours Truly

Sir Rob