Polo was like a battle, fast and dangerous. Many horses
fell, men were hurt, and one died when a horse ran over
him, but Yusuf rode wonderfully. He stayed out of trouble
and, by hitting clever shots, he helped Nuradin and his
players to win.
‘How can you play polo so well?’ the governor asked the boy.
‘I learned it in Damascus, sir. I have a wonderful horse there.
My father says that he’ll send him to me when General Shirkuh
says that I can fight with the army.’
‘Tell your father to send the horse now. You’re small and not
very strong, but you’re a clever fighter. You think before you do
things, and you want to win. There’s nothing more important in
a soldier. The general will be happy to have another good man in
his army. Go to him now and tell him what I said.’
The general looked up when he heard the news. He wasn’t
smiling. ‘Very well. You can come back, but don’t think that
you’ll be fighting. Polo and war are different. You’ll work in my
office and learn how to move fighting men and horses quickly
and to find food, weapons, and a safe place for them to sleep.
Remember that brave soldiers and fast horses are only half the
story. We only win wars when strong men are ready to fight in
the right place at the right time.’
Yusuf was in the army now, but life wasn’t easier. Every day
he made sure that the soldiers and their horses had good food to
eat. He counted weapons and made sure that they were strong
and clean. He paid soldiers and kept the army’s money safe.
He found answers to all kinds of problems from morning until
night, but sometimes he felt sad because he never knew if his
uncle was happy with his hard work. There was no fighting for
Yusuf, but sometimes Nuradin asked him to play polo and on
Aneed’s back he forgot his troubles.