room. He was very late. ‘You’ll have to stay this afternoon to do
all the work that you’ve missed, boy!’
Yusuf sat next to Turan Shah. ‘Where are we?’ he asked.
Turan Shah showed Yusuf the words in the holy Koran that
the boys were reading. ‘It’s the story of the Prophet Yusuf and
how his brothers left him in the desert because they didn’t like
him,’ he smiled, not very kindly.
‘Stop talking and learn!’ The teacher’s stick hit both boys. It
hurt. Turan Shah cried out, but Yusuf said nothing.
‘What am I going to do with you, Yusuf?’ said his father later
that day. ‘Your teacher tells me that you’re clever and quick to
learn, but that you’re never at school. I know that you’re always
with the horses, but you’re not a child any more. You must learn
to be a man and a soldier. I’m going to send you to my brother
Shirkuh. You know that now he’s an important general
working for Zengi’s son, Nuradin, up in Aleppo.’
‘Can I take Aneed with me?’
‘No! Since we came to Damascus you’ve only played. Now you
must work. Get ready. We leave in an hour.’
Aleppo, Syria – 1152
Yusuf felt sad saying goodbye to his mother and sisters before
he left Damascus with his father. At first he was excited to be
starting a new life, but after four days of hard travel on hot dry
roads, he was worried. He asked himself over and over again,
‘Will I be a good soldier?’
‘Yusuf, look! That’s where you’ll live,’ his father said while
they rode through some small villages just outside Aleppo.