Call of the Trumpet Read Online Free PDF

both began and ended. While Matthew’s mother was always the aristocrat and disdained all things common, people in particular, Matthew’s father was exactly the opposite. Should Amanda Blackmoore upbraid a servant, Andrew Blackmoore later could be found comforting the unfortunate employee. A situation that caused Amanda to turn up her nose generally made Andrew smile with kindly humor and compassion. Amanda was a wholly practical woman, while Andrew was a dreamer.
    For the first nine years of his life, Matthew had watched his parents, loved them, but, as he grew older, begun to wonder how in the world two such different personalities successfully coexisted. For his sake he was glad they did, but he was not completely surprised when his father came to his bedroom late one night, sat on the corner of his mattress, and said: “I am very sorry to have to tell you this, Matthew, my boy, but I am leaving, going away. But for you, I would have done so long ago. You’re older now, however. And, I hope, able to understand.”
    “But … but where are you going?”
    Andrew Blackmoore’s eyes had unfocused, and Matthew knew his gaze was somewhere very far away. “To North Africa, my boy. To the land of dunes and camels. And the noble Arabian horse.”
    It was the first Matthew had ever heard of the breed. His father, it seemed, had gone to a livestock exhibition in France and had seen some of the first of those horses imported to the country. He had fallen in love with them, the idea of them, and the romance of the land where they had originated.
    The romance in his marriage was dead.
    So Andrew Blackmoore had left his family, to Amanda’s humiliation yet ultimate relief. For a year they did not hear from him, and then came a long letter from Damascus. To Amanda’s surprise and Matthew’s delight, the senior Blackmoore had become somewhat of a success in the trading and selling of Arab horses to foreign markets. His timing had been excellent, as the Ottoman Empire had gradually been losing its economic independence and relied more and more on foreign capital and business. He was doing well and wished for his son to visit. Amanda absolutely forbade her son to go.
    One year after that, as she stood at the top of the stairs shaking her finger and railing at an unfortunate servant, she lost her balance and tumbled all the way to the first floor. She died instantly. Within the week, Matthew was aboard a ship bound for Bayrut. He never looked back. And once he had arrived on African soil, saw the desert horses, their people, and their land, he never again wondered why his father had traveled so far to find them.
    Abruptly aware that the day was fading, and that during his reverie Adeeb had finally ceased speaking, Matthew pulled the gold watch from his pocket and glanced at it pointedly. “I fear I must take my leave, Adeeb. I have business yet in your city and it grows late.”
    Farewells were made with much ceremony, and Matthew finally escaped Adeeb’s imposing home and lubricious tongue with a sigh of relief. As he stepped into the narrow, busy street, he was joined at once by a muscular, black-skinned giant. He nodded at Ahmed and smiled.
    “Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it, selling my horses. Especially when I have to deal with buyers such as Adeeb.”
    Ahmed returned his master’s smile with a grin. “The gold is always worth it. Its value lasts, while the memory of such annoyances as this man’s greed will fade.”
    Matthew laughed. “What would I do without you, Ahmed?”
    “Very little, I am assured.”
    The two walked in companionable silence for awhile, threading their way through the jostling crowd. Soon the familiar smell of the harbor came to Matthew’s nostrils; salt, fish, tar, and decay. Moments later he walked out onto a still busy dock, shaded his eyes from the setting sun, and gazed out into the harbor.
    “Here she comes, Ahmed. Right on time.”
    Following his master’s gaze, Ahmed watched the