Assassination in Al Qahira

by James Boschert

  “He is in the servants’ quarters but in good care. His wound was terrible, but with Allah’s help and the good physician, he will live. I shall ask Malek when it would be good for you to see him. In the meantime you must rest.”

  She pulled her veil back into place and turned away, holding out a slim hand for the young boy to grasp. They walked out of the room, and the boy looked over his shoulder, smiled and waved. Jasmine, the young girl, her veil carelessly dropped onto her shoulder, looked back at him too, but with large curious eyes that were solemn. Watching them leave it seemed to Talon a part of the sunlight had gone with them. But a faint scent of sandalwood and of rose attar remained.

  He lay back feeling empty and tired. He must have slept. A serving woman woke him to give him some delicious stew of lentil and cabbage with meat scraps which might be chicken or pigeon. It was growing dark outside, and with the darkness came quiet in the rest of the house.

  As he ate he took stock of himself. He had been bathed, and no longer felt filthy, which was a relief. His hair and beard had also been trimmed. He presumed that slaves had taken care of him. He still wanted to bathe himself. The hot water of a bathing pool would clean more than his body.

  He lay in the bed with a prayer on his lips, reliving the terrible moments when Max had been wounded. His concern for his friend denied him much appetite.

  Later that evening, just after sunset, he heard people calling to one another. Then he heard heavy wood doors thump open against the walls and the sound of horses’ hooves on hard packed ground. There was the jingle of harnesses, and he saw the flicker of flaming torches sending shadows dancing across walls. More voices and then the stamping of boots on the steps outside, as a man walked towards his bedroom. Talon sat up further and prepared himself to meet the visitor.

  A tall, well-built man, with a thick neck that seemed to make his head seem small, paused at the doorway. He possessed a large nose on a slightly fleshy face. Talon thought he recognized the man; perhaps he had talked to him at the beginning of his illness.

  The man wore his hair in two long braids that fell down his back. He was well-dressed, clearly for war, wearing a fine chain mail vest and thigh mail as well as greaves for his shins over well made riding boots. He contemplated Talon as he removed his gloves and walked to the bed and gave a short bow. His beard was well trimmed and his hands wore several rings. He gazed at Talon with dark, slightly protuberant eyes that assessed him shrewdly.

  Looking down at Talon, he said, “Salaam Aliekom. Peace be with you. You seem to have recovered, Suleiman…if that is your name. How do you feel today?”

  “As-Salamu Aliekom. Peace be with you, my lord. Allah be praised, I am better,” responded Talon.

  “Hmm, that is good, because I have some questions. There is a puzzle surrounding you that has not been dispelled by your illness.”

  “I hope to be able to answer some of your questions, Sir. Please, tell me your name.”

  “It is Malek ibn Nidh’aal al Misre…I am the steward of the estates here in the Fayoum, for our Lord and master, may Allah grant him long life and much wisdom, Emir Abbas Abdul Rahman ibn Athir Faysal, who is descended of the ‘Alā’-ad-din. He is a commander in the army of Salah-Ed Din. I want to thank you on behalf of both myself and my lord’s family for your timely arrival at the scene of the ambush, a week ago.”

  Talon gasped. “I have been with the fever that long?”

  “Indeed you have. You had the river sickness, although it is out of season and few get it at this time of the year. Sometimes the sickness comes to the country and then moves north to the delta.

  “Where did you come from that day, Suleiman? You appeared like a pair of devils and saved the life of my brother, who is one of my lieutenants, not to mention my Lady and her son and daughter, my lord Kazim and Jasmine. My brother saw what you both did when you arrived and saved him from three men who were attacking him. He nearly died from loss of blood, his shoulder wound was deep. I, too, witnessed your deeds, and those of your companion as well.”

  “I pray to Allah that your brother lives now, my lord,” Talon said, trying to delay the moment when he would have to invent another lie.

  “He will live; it will take more than a couple of slashes with a knife to kill that man. Tough as a crocodile is my brother,” Malek said with a smile. He stroked his moustache.

  Talon had no idea what a crocodile was but he said, “I am told that my companion lives, when I was sure he died in my arms, my lord. I must see him.”

  “So you shall, so you shall, but there is time. He is not in as good condition as you are, but he is slowly pulling out of the fevers induced by the wound. The physician has high hopes for him and we all call upon Allah in our prayers to aid him,” Malek said. “So, Suleiman,” he continued, “where did you come from, and where were you going, when you decided to come to our rescue?”

  “My companion and I were in the hills watching the men in the trees because we did not quite trust their actions. It never hurts to be cautious, Sir.”

  Malek nodded in thoughtful agreement.

  “But we could not know that they were planning an ambush for you,” Talon stated, skirting the question.

  “Oh yes. May Allah strike them all dead and then cast them into Hell for eternity. They were waiting for us, Suleiman, of that you can be sure.”

  Talon’s face betrayed his surprise. “Might I ask why, my lord?”

  “You may call me Malek; I am not your lord. My lord is a man of the highest station; very close to our Sultan, may Allah protect him. Therefore, he has many enemies, and this time they nearly succeeded in either murdering or kidnapping his son and his daughter…and second wife.”

  Talon was shocked. “But who would do such a thing…Malek? Also why did you not go by boat? Would it not have been safer?”

  “We had taken the boat south on the great river from Al Qahirah, but that would have meant disembarking at Beneade, and since we had been warned that they might be waiting for us there, we disembarked before that town, and then took the road…thinking we might outmaneuver our enemies.

  “Wisely or unwisely, it was by then in the hands of Allah, all praise to him, that my mistress decided to take a chance and come here by road. I, too, mistakenly thought we might have enough men to ward off any attack. It seems that both of us were mistaken, and I have written to my master to tell him of the event. I do not know at this time, Suleiman, if I will keep my head when he gets back here. I do know that he will be raging, and once he knows who it was, then we can expect a fight, this time to the finish.”

  He yawned. “I am tired, and while I still have questions for you they can wait, as I have to go to our mistress and report on the grain count before I go to my bed.”

  He stood over Talon and said, “You and your companion fought like lions on the road and we have seen your scars. My men and I heard you laughing as you killed. I don’t doubt that you are a warrior, and you have told me of your companion being a Sergeant…what is a sergeant? Now there is a riddle you must answer soon. I bid you goodnight, Suleiman.”

  “Go in peace. May Allah grant you a restful night, Malek,” Talon intoned politely.

  He tossed and turned that night. He had much to think about, and he wondered where they were and what the lay of the land was. But he was elated, too, that Max had thus far survived. He said a prayer for him, hoping that it would be heard.

  He pondered Malek’s statements. There seemed to be a feud going on between some nobles and the family with whom he was staying, and they were in danger. Then he wondered how he would fare in the face of persistent questions as to his origins and those of Max. Talon wondered what Max might have told them. He wanted to fabricate a plausible story about where they came from, who they were. Talon said a small prayer for their lost companion Montague, then slept.

  The next morning a middle aged man came to see him, and after the usual elaborate greetings he said, “I am the family physician.”

  After
an inspection, during which he laid his hand on Talon’s forehead for a moment and told him to put out his tongue, he stared at his eyes after lifting his lids with long slim finger tips. Then he listened to Talon’s breathing by placing his ear on his chest, after which he said, “I think the fever is now gone and you have recovered enough to go out into the courtyard and the garden.”

  After the physician had left, he was visited by Malek. “Take your ease in peace, Suleiman. I have to go away to supervise our harvests, but I shall be back this evening to talk to you. Do not go outside the compound, as I cannot guarantee your safety outside these walls. Our enemies are everywhere. This evening you can go and see your companion. He is very weak, and you should not tire him.”

  Talon nodded. He was relieved that the moment of truth had been postponed for the time being. He was ravenous and devoured his breakfast of nan, goat’s cheese and some sharp yoghurt that he washed down with cool water. Then he set about getting out of the bed. He got to his feet, wobbly from having been in bed for so long. He had to reach out and steady himself at one point, but gradually his balance improved, and he stood upright.

  He still wanted a bath very badly and wondered how to get one. He need not have worried; the slave woman who had brought him breakfast came with some towels and bade him to follow her. He padded along the corridors behind the wide swaying haunches of the woman. She was very dark, and had a tight mop of black curls on her head.

  She led him to a darkened room that smelt of wood smoke and steam. She indicated that he should undress and get into the huge tub, filled with steaming hot water. This stood close to a large dark pool of water.

  Sometime later Talon stepped out of the bath house, dressed in a clean soft cotton abaya, feeling enormously refreshed. He could not remember the last time he had felt so clean.

  The Heart, forgetting its age, is lured

  And finds itself thinking of Egypt’s Eden,

  Its young there by the river’s gardens,

  Along its banks, and across its fields,

  Where the wheat has turned a reddish gold,

  As though it too had been dressed in robes,

  And a breeze from the sea ripples across it,

  So it seems to be bowing—in thanks to the Lord…

  — Yehuda Halevi

  Chapter 6

  The Fayoum

  The second day Talon went directly to check on his horses. He found one of the syce watering Max’s, while Rakhsh, his own, nickered at him in recognition from a stall. He smiled and went over to the horse and talked to him gently while stroking the fine skin on his neck. He was pleased to note that both Rakhsh and Max’s mount had been well groomed.

  He found great enjoyment in just being with these swift creatures. Yet he felt a twinge of conscience at having stolen them, and a faint anxiety grew at the thought of his hosts finding out. He need not have worried; as Malek came to join him at the stables, he said in a tone that was reassuring, “Your horses have been looked after by our syce, that boy over there; his name is Haytham.” He indicated, pointing with his chin, a young lad who was attending to another horse.

  “They are among the best I have seen for a long time…” said Malek, casually stroking Rakhsh’s curious nose.

  “If you mean they were expensive, you are right,” Talon said with a smile. He wondered how much he really would have had to pay for one of these magnificent mounts.

  But Malek did not seem in any hurry to interrogate him at this point, and instead proceeded to show him around the expansive grounds of the compound.

  “This is an estate that goes back more than two hundred years in the Emir’s family,” he said proudly. “See those sycamores and palms? They have been here longer than any living man and probably were planted by my lord’s great grandfather, who wanted an oasis of considerable size here, but he also wanted timber to sell to the Sultans for their ship building.”

  “Does he own other properties?” Talon asked casually. He watched children playing near to the servants’ quarters. Life in the compound seemed a long way from all the conflicts he knew.

  “Oh yes, he owns a salt flat here in the Fayoum, and another north of here which brings in good revenue. It is, near the sea. He has palaces, one in Alexandria and another in Al Qahirah. But they are places he visits only occasionally these days,” Malek said.

  “Why is that, Malek?’

  “Because his first wife died in Alexandria while giving birth to his daughter Jasmine. She lived there with her grandmother and an army of servants for a long time. My lord Abbas was devastated and visited only occasionally, for the pain was great. Fortunately, with his new wife, my Lady Khalidah, he is beginning to take more interest in his daughter, who now lives here with us.”

  Malek continued, “His son Kazim is of prime importance, as he is the only male heir.”

  Talon was aware of the complex intermarriages among this society but did not probe further as they continued walking across the property. There was a virtual forest of trees around the walls outside the property, and within the walls themselves. There were many producing date palms, mulberries, lotus, and figs, and many different fruit trees growing in orchards, all well cared for. The sycamores, pines and cedars, Malek mentioned in passing, were used for buildings and ships.

  To Talon’s critical eye, that of a Fidai, the walls and defenses of the estate were poorly constructed and could do with a lot of improvements, but he assumed that the Lord was aware of this and it was not an issue. He felt uneasy that the family had been ambushed so near to home, however.

  Later, Malek took him out into the countryside, after asking solicitously if he was up to it. Talon had nodded with a smile showing he was eager to. Now he was astride Rakhsh, comfortably seated and reveling in the feel of the strong, eager animal between his legs. They had ridden some miles west of the estate, looking over many fields of cotton and other crops of cereals and vegetables that belonged to the lord.

  Malek explained that he was the steward of this land and that the good running of the estates was his responsibility. He asked if Talon was familiar with numbers, and when Talon had explained that he knew the elements of mathematics the man looked pleased.

  “I have to count the crop listings and there are very few others who know how. Perhaps you could help me when the time comes?” he suggested, as though he thought Talon intended to stay a while. They rode even further west until they came to the shore of a huge lake that Malek called Birket Qarun. With a sweep of his arm that took in the whole area contained between the hills surrounding them, Malek exclaimed proudly, “This is a region known as the Fayoum, and most of it belongs to my master. The Nile has been draining into this lake since the beginning of time, during the wet season. But the river blocks that you may have already seen along the canal joining the Nile and the lake control the amount of water used for irrigation, and so we can use this fertile land to grow crops twice a year.

  “The water level is low at this time, but in mid to late summer when the river rises, we work very hard to bring it into the channels and ditches.”

  The shoreline was wide and the water brackish and low. Obviously it was not time yet for the waters to flow. However, there were many birds wading along the shore or in deeper water, looking for fish. A few ducks swam in and out of reeds, while further out there was an assortment of birds either wading or floating on the calm waters. They walked their horses at a slow pace, contemplating the landscape and the placid waters of the lake.

  They stopped on the shoreline and looked out over the immense, glimmering expanse of water. Talon could barely see the other side and the area seemed devoid of people, but when he looked a little closer, he could see ruins, blending with the red colored earth of the hills off to the north, a mile or so away. There was also a group of houses clustered together denoting a village.

  He listened to the lapping of the waters on the sandy shore and the cries of the wading birds with real pleasure. He could hear the light breeze r
ustling the reeds along the shoreline. It was so quiet. There was something timeless and calming about the lake, as though the surrounding low hills protected it from the feverish activity of the outside world.

  Malek, who had been sitting his horse quietly and enjoying the view as well, pointed out to the water, then waved his arm towards a plume of dust and said, “Over on the very west of this lake the water is not fit to drink, as it is heavy with salt. We now have a salt flat there. That one, plus the other one north by the sea, provide my Master with a good income. We send it to Al Qahirah and Al Iskandrȋyah; I believe it is shipped as far away as Constantinople. But the export is not my concern; the infidels known as the Genoans take care of that.” He continued, his hand outstretched towards the west.

  “That is desert over those hills and it is blowing sand into the sky. See there, Suleiman?” he pointed, and Talon could just see a hazy brown column rising into the sky. “One day, unless we can prevent it, this area too will become unsuitable for cultivation. Insha’Allah it will not be for a very long time; and thanks be to Allah, we can still drink the water on this side of the lake.”

  “Why do you say this, Malek? I am no farmer, but the soil where you grow crops looks very rich. It is almost black! You yourself maintain the land as a good steward should, do you not?”

  “Indeed, Suleiman, I try. It is not only my duty, but indeed it is my very life. But over the ages the water level of the lake has sunk deeper and the desert of the north and west has come closer. My Grandfather who grew up here told me it has lost much water in his lifetime. It is Allah’s will. Insha’Allah he will arrest the desert before it kills this land.” He finished on a fatalistic note.

  A light wind came rippling across the waters of the lake and cooled Talon’s brow. It also caused his robes to flutter. Lifting his head to sniff the air Talon murmured, “I find it very beautiful.”

  “You and I shall go hunting along this shore with falcons, and if you wish you can go fishing too, my friend,” Malek said with a laugh. He lifted his face towards the horizon and continued with good humor, as if pleasant thoughts were on his mind.