REBIRTH OF THE CRESCENT

📌 Previously in Chapter 27:

Zayd and Qadir arrived in Baghdad with their invention — The Cloud Cart. Dressed like a nobleman and armed with confidence, Zayd carefully planted curiosity throughout the city using criers and word of mouth. Now, as whispers turned to buzz, the crowd gathered for the grand auction.

📍 Scene: Baghdad Central Auction Hall – Midday

Under a vast domed ceiling painted with stars, the Great Auction of Baghdad had begun.

Carpets from India, sapphires from Shiraz, a rare diamond ring once worn by a forgotten king — all had crossed the stage, one after the other.

Merchants, nobles, spies, and even disguised royals lined the carved marble benches. Gold clinked in pouches. Fans whispered over beaded veils. Oil lamps cast glows across stone walls and greed-filled eyes.

AUCTIONEER (a thin man with a booming voice):

"Next! A shop lot in the southern wood district! Starting at 60 gold!"

The gavel struck again and again. 75 gold. 80. Sold.

QADIR (whispering to Zayd):

"Should we have auctioned my sandals instead? I'm sure they'd get at least two copper."

ZAYD (calmly):

"Patience. Let them eat bread before they taste dessert."

📍 Scene Change: Auction Stage – One Hour Later

The lights dimmed slightly. The crowd had begun to murmur with expectation.

A golden bell rang.

AUCTIONEER:

"Now… for the item many of you came to see… the Cloud Cart — a one-of-a-kind luxury carriage designed with unmatched comfort, beauty, and balance. The only cart that floats like wind over stone!"

Gasps and cheers erupted as two white horses pulled the gleaming Cloud Cart into view.

Polished wood gleamed like honey. Silver trimmings shone. The leather seating was elegant yet humble. Even the iron fittings looked like art.

QADIR (to Zayd, nervously):

"They love it. They really love it."

ZAYD:

"They should. It was built by the hands of five men and the dreams of twenty more."

📍 Scene: Audience Section – Bidding Begins

AUCTIONEER:

"Let the bidding begin! Starting at 100 gold dinars!"

A hand shot up from the left.

AUCTIONEER:

"One hundred gold! Do I hear one ten?"

MERCHANT IN BLUE ROBES:

"110!"

MERCHANT WOMAN WITH JEWELED VEIL:

"120!"

FAT MAN WITH TURBAN:

"250!"

The crowd gasped.

YOUNG PRINCE IN DARK GREEN:

"300!"

OLD SILK TRADER:

"371!"

MERCHANT IN BLACK:

"372."

SOMEONE FROM THE BACK (chuckling):

"373!"

The crowd laughed. The auctioneer grinned.

AUCTIONEER:

"Do I hear 400? 400? No? 450?"

Silence.

Then… the greatest spice trader of the region, Salim al-Dhahabi, rose slowly.

He wore a saffron-dyed robe, and his beard was white but thick. Everyone knew his face. Every tavern told tales of his ships, his caravans, his wealth.

SALIM (calmly):

"Five hundred gold."

The entire hall froze.

QADIR (mouth wide open):

"Did he say… five hundred?!"

ZAYD (softly):

"He said exactly what we needed."

The gavel slammed.

AUCTIONEER (shouting):

"SOLD! To Master Salim al-Dhahabi — for 500 gold dinars!"

The crowd erupted in applause. Nimr screeched from a high beam above, as if marking the moment.

📍 Scene: Quiet Alley Behind the Auction Hall – Sunset

Zayd and Qadir stood under a fig tree, counting the gold pieces again — just to be sure.

QADIR (almost teary):

"Do you know how many lamb roasts this can buy?"

ZAYD (grinning):

"Enough to feed the forge… and build ten more."