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waterskins。
In the end； only Taita stood outside the shelter。 Almost as though the storm was his creature； his face was intent as it loomed over him。 It struck with a force that made the living rock around them seem to quiver and vibrate and Taita was gone； his tall figure obliterated。 The first gust lasted only a few seconds； but when it passed Taita was still there； unmoved and serene。 The storm gathered itself bellowing； like a berserk monster； and as it hurled down on them in all its terrible majesty Taita stooped through the opening and sat with his back to the inner wall。
'Close it up；' he said； and Meren and Hilto blocked the entrance with the rocks they had placed at hand。
'Cover your heads；' said Taita； and wound his headcloth over his face。 'Keep your eyes closed； or you will lose your sight。 Breathe carefully through your mouth or you will drown in sand。'
* * *
The storm was so overwhelming that its first front picked up Trok's chariot and rolled it over with the horses screaming as the lashing shaft broke their backs。
Trok was thrown free。 He fought his way to his feet； but the storm struck him down again。 He managed to pull himself up； using all his brute strength； but he had lost all sense of direction。 When he tried to open his eyes he was blinded by sand。 He did not know in which direction he was facing； or where he should try to escape。 The storm was swirling upon itself so that it seemed to be ing from every direction at once。 He dared not open his eyes again。 The khamsin ripped at his face； and its harsh rush abraded the skin from his cheeks and lips until he covered them with his headcloth。
In the turmoil of sand and wind Trok screamed； 'Save me！ Save me； Ishtar； and I will reward you beyond your greediest dreams。'
It seemed impossible that anyone could have heard his cry in the deafening uproar。 Then he felt Ishtar seize his hand and squeeze it hard to caution Trok to hold fast。
They stumbled on； at times sinking to the knees in the sand； which ran like water。 Trok tripped over an obstacle and lost contact with Ishtar。 When he groped for him in panic he touched the object that had tripped him； and realized that it was one of the abandoned chariots lying on its side。
He screamed for Ishtar； staggering in a circle and Ishtar's hand grabbed his beard and led him on。 He was scorched by sand； blinded by sand； drowning in sand。
He fell to his knees and Ishtar hauled him up again； ripping out a handful of his beard。 He tried to speak but when he opened his mouth the sand rushed in and he choked。 He knew he was dying； that no man could survive this terrible thing that had them in its grip。
It seemed endless； their tormented journey to nowhere。 Then； abruptly； he felt the force of the wind diminish。 For a minute he thought that the storm had already passed them by； but the roar had not abated…to the contrary； it seemed still to be rising。 They staggered onwards； reeling and bumping into each other like two drunkards trying to lead each other home from the tavern。 Still the wind force dropped。 In a vague and confused way Trok thought that somehow Ishtar had worked a spell to shield them； but then a sudden gust almost lifted him off his feet and broke the grip that Ishtar had on his beard。 He crashed into a wall of rock with such force that he felt his collar…bone break；
He dropped to his knees and clung to the rock； like a child to its mother's breast。 How Ishtar had brought them to it he neither knew nor cared。 All that mattered was that the cliff above them was breaking the full force of the storm。 He felt Ishtar kneel at his side and pull up his tunic until it covered his head。 Then Ishtar pushed him down flat in the shelter of the cliff and lay down beside him。
* * *
In the tiny cave Nefer crawled close to Mintaka and took her in his arms。 He tried to speak to her； to fort and encourage her but both their heads were swathed with cloth； and the wind drowned out all sound。 She laid her head on his shoulder and they clung to each other。 They were entombed in the roaring darkness； dumb and blinded and half suffocated。 Each hot breath they drew had to be strained through cloth and taken only a sip at a time to prevent a rush of talcum fine sand passing between their lips。
After a while the roar of the wind deafened them and dulled all their other senses。 It went on and on； without ceasing or relenting。 They had no way to judge the passage of time； except the tiniest awareness of light and darkness through their closed eyelids。 To mark the arrival of the day there was a faint rosy aura； when night fell it faded into utter darkness。 Nefer had never known such plete and endless dark。 If it had not been for Mintaka's body pressed close to his； he thought that he would have gone mad。
Every once in a long while she stirred against him and answered the pressure of his arms with her own。 He might have slept； but there were no dreams； just the roaring of the khamsin and the darkness。
After another long while he tried to move his legs； but he could not。 In a blind panic he thought he had lost control of his body。 That he was weak and dying。 He tried again with all his strength； and managed to move his foot and toes。 Then he knew that he was entrapped by the sand that was filtering into their shelter through the chinks in the zareba wall。 It had already piled up as high as his waist。 They were slowly being buried alive。 The thought of that insidious death filled him with terror。 With his bare hands he scraped away enough sand to be able to move his legs then did the same for Mintaka。
He felt the others working at the same task in the crowded cave； trying to fight back the sand； but it trickled in like water。 It was deposited on them from the dense clouds of swirling dust。
And the storm raged on。
For two days and three nights the wind never relented。 During this time Nefer managed to keep back the sand just enough to move his head and his arms； but his lower body was encased solidly。 He could not begin to dig himself out； for there was no where to which he could move the sand。
He reached up one hand and touched the stone roof inches above his head。 He ran his fingers across it； and realized it was slightly domed。 Their heads were in this small space； but the sand had sealed off the cave entrance so that no more sand could penetrate。 But he could still hear the storm bellow endlessly。
He waited。 At times he felt Mintaka sobbing quietly beside him and tried to fort her with a gentle pressure of his arms。 The air trapped with them in the tiny head space became fetid and stale。 He thought that soon it would no longer keep them alive； but some fresh air must have been filtering through the sand； for although each breath was a struggle they were still alive。
They drank most of the water that remained in the waterskins； leaving only a tiny amount in the bottom。 Then the thirst came。 Even though they were unable to move their bodies to use up moisture； the hot dry sand and air