daughter, but she wasn't as important

had come from the Levant at the eastern end of the Mediterranean.

The levanter increased in intensity. Here I am, between my flock and my treasure, the boy thought. He

had to choose between something he had become accustomed to and something he wanted to have.

There was also the merchant's daughter, but she wasn't as important as his flock, because she didn't

depend on him. Maybe she didn't even remember him. He was sure that it made no difference to her on

which day he appeared: for her, every day was the same, and when each day is the same as the next, it's

because people fail to recognize the good things that happen in their lives every day that the sun rises.

I left my father, my mother, and the town castle behind. They have gotten used to my being away, and

so have I. The sheep will get used to my not being there, too, the boy thought.

From where he sat, he could observe the plaza. People continued to come and go from the baker's

shop. A young couple sat on the bench where he had talked with the old man, and they kissed.

"That baker..." he said to himself, without completing the thought. The levanter was still getting stronger,

and he felt its force on his face. That wind had brought the Moors, yes, but it had also brought the smell

of the desert and of veiled women. It had brought with it the sweat and the dreams of men who had once

left to search for the unknown, and for gold and adventure—and for the Pyramids. The boy felt jealous

of the freedom of the wind, and saw that he could have the same freedom. There was nothing to hold him

back except himself. The sheep, the merchant's daughter, and the fields of Andalusia were only steps

along the way to his destiny.

The next day, the boy met the old man at noon. He brought six sheep with him.

"I'm surprised," the boy said. "My friend bought all the other sheep immediately. He said that he had

always dreamed of being a shepherd, and that it was a good omen."

"That's the way it always is," said the old man. "It's called the principle of favorability. When you play

cards the first time, you are almost sure to win. Beginner's luck."

"Why is that?"

"Because there is a force that wants you to realize your destiny; it whets your appetite with a taste of

success."

Then the old man began to inspect the sheep, and he saw that one was lame. The boy explained that it

wasn't important, since that sheep was the most intelligent of the flock, and produced the most wool.

"Where is the treasure?" he asked.

"It's in Egypt, near the Pyramids."

The boy was startled. The old woman had said the same thing. But she hadn't charged him anything.

"In order to find the treasure, you will have to follow the omens. God has prepared a path for everyone

to follow. You just have to read the omens that he left for you."

Before the boy could reply, a butterfly appeared and fluttered between him and the old man. He

remembered something his grandfather had once told him: that butterflies were a good omen. Like