Assassination in Al Qahira

by James Boschert

  “We do have much to tell, my lord, but you should be allowed to clean off the dust of travel and eat before we speak of our adventure. Kazim, go back to bed, my sweet. We can meet again in the morning,” she said firmly to the boy.

  Abbas put Kazim down and ruffled his son’s hair. “Obey your mother, my son, and get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow you will come with me to inspect our land, with Malek.”

  The boy reluctantly went off with his maid servant and Abbas turned back to his wife.

  “What did the boy mean?” he asked, looking puzzled.

  “It was nothing, my lord, but I shall indeed tell you of it. Come, it is late enough and you must be very tired.”

  He smiled at her. “Not so tired that I cannot feel the desire of a man who is with a very beautiful woman, my princess.”

  She smiled and said, “I am at your command, my lord. I shall take it upon myself to see that you sleep well tonight.”

  One other person greeted them at the head of the stairs. Jasmine had stood waiting, but now she ran down the steps and into her father’s arms.

  “Father, I am so glad you are back at last,” she said, her voice muffled in his shoulder. He stroked her long hair and murmured his pleasure at her greeting. She had mellowed and blossomed since Khalidah became her friend. Now his daughter was happy to see him.

  “I am back, my child, and very pleased to be. I hope I find you well and keeping up with your studies?”

  “I am well, Father, but Mother will tell you all. I shall bid you goodnight and let you go,” she said in a very grown-up manner that made him look at her a bit closer.

  He glanced at Khalidah. She noticed his look and nodded. His daughter was turning into a very beautiful woman.

  Later, feeling refreshed, Abbas dined on the best food that could be prepared in the house.

  The fare was infinitely better than the bare necessities he had had to live on for nearly three months hitherto. He munched on salted seeds that were sun dried, along with imported olives in oil. There were small cakes of pounded lotus, baked hard, which his wife knew he enjoyed, followed by dried salty fish morsels in a bed of celery and lettuce. The main meal consisted of stewed goat meat surrounded by rice, with plenty of onion and garlic and fragrant with spices.

  Abbas set to with the hunger of a man who has been deprived of good food for too long.

  His wife ate a morsel of food here and there to keep him company. When they were finished and the sweetmeats came, she called for coffee.

  “My lord, it is time to tell you of events that came to pass,” she said, her face pale.

  She had the full attention of her husband; his lean dark face turned towards her without comment and watched her while she spoke.

  “Remember that you sent me by boat to the junction of the two rivers, the one great Nile and the other our own, that flows not far from this very place?”

  He nodded in reply.

  “You did this for our safety, I know…but, my lord, we received word that robbers would be waiting for us in boats at the junction of the rivers near to Beneade. The information was reliable, but you must ask Malek how it came to him. In order to avoid the risk of attack, I ordered the servants to disembark a good three leagues beforehand. Malek told me he did not like the idea and wanted to go back to Al Qahirah, but I overruled him and we took the road instead, which I thought might bypass the danger. It was not so.”

  Abbas gave a start, and was about to ask a question when she put a light hand on his arm and said, “I beg of you, let me finish the story, my lord, and then you may ask the questions.”

  The coffee forgotten, he watched the emotions playing across her face.

  “We…we were almost home when we came under attack by a large band of men who first killed our scouts. My lord, Malek and his brother are good men, and they took every precaution, but to no avail. The men came out of a large grove of trees and overwhelmed us.

  “Malek and his men fought like lions, my lord, and those not killed were sorely wounded, but there were too many of them.” She had tears running down her cheeks.

  “The slaves dropped my palanquin and fled for their lives, and the robbers were about to kill me and your children, but for the intervention of Allah, may He be praised forever.”

  Abbas was pale. “What happened? How did you live?” he whispered through bloodless lips, his eyes on fire.

  “I know not how it happened, other than what Malek and his brother told me later, but two men came down from the hills overlooking the road, riding like devils, and they began to attack and destroy the enemy right in front of us.

  “The one, Suleiman, saved my life directly, and that of Kazim and Jasmine. The attackers were about to kill us when he came like an avenging angel and slew all about him. The other gave a good account of himself, but then he was badly wounded. It was Allah’s will, and he will recover, although for a time it was not at all sure that he would.”

  Abbas stared down at his wife who, having to relive the terrible events of the attack, was now shaking and weeping in his arms.

  She huddled in the shelter of his arms while he tried to digest what had happened. Some things were beginning to fall into place and he did not like what he was seeing.

  “I must talk to Malek at once,” he said—all thought of sleep forgotten.

  “You!” he called to one of the servants standing just outside the entrance to their room. “Bring Malek, and his brother, here at once.” The servant scurried off.

  Abbas turned back to his wife. Using a cotton cloth he wiped the tears away and said, “My lovely princess. Go to bed and I shall come to you when I have listened to Malek. I would know all there is to this treachery, for that is what it was, and I am sure I know who was responsible.”

  He leaned over and kissed her. “I thank almighty Allah that you are still alive, and praise him for his kindness in preserving you and my children,” he whispered, as he lifted her up from the floor cushion and sent her on her way.

  It was only a few minutes before Malek and his brother were prostrated in front of their lord and master, who stood above them with a face like thunder.

  He kept them in that position for longer than usual, while he regained his composure, and then abruptly he bade them sit up.

  “Now tell me in your own words what happened on the road recently,” he said as calmly as he could.

  “There is treachery somewhere in Al Qahirah, my lord…” Malek began fearfully.

  * * * * *

  The dawn was beginning to glow in the east, throwing the palm trees into dark relief, and the cocks were beginning to crow in the gardens as Abbas came silently to his bed. He had not wanted to wake his wife, but as he settled down on the bedclothes with a barely audible sigh, she rolled over and placed her hand on his naked chest and began to caress him.

  Despite his exhaustion, he smiled and took her into his arms.

  Sometime later the two fell into a deep sleep that was undisturbed by the sounds coming from the courtyard. Everyone walked quietly, for the Lord had come home and was asleep.

  My heart and mind are able to do many things,

  But I am useless so long as my pockets are empty,

  And so I hope for the Lord, who was and is,

  And will, again, make Time serve me.

  — Todros Abulafia

  Chapter 9

  Arrest

  Talon had heard the welcoming shouts and the noise of the gates opening. He wondered what the commotion was about and stepped out of his room to see what was going on. It was late, yet the servants were excited, and he guessed that it had to be the arrival of the Lord. He knew Malek would need to brief his master of the events of the last three months and give an account of the attack that had brought him and Max to this place. Thus he chose to remain out of the way for now, observing from the doorway.

  He could not make out the features of the Lord Abbas in the flickering torchlight, yet there was something familiar about his demeanor. He wore
a helmet with a nose guard that concealed his face, but even when the man took this off, Talon could not tell where he had seen him before.

  Thoughtful, he went back to bed, as did most of the servants other than an unfortunate few who would have to stay up to serve as long as the Lord was awake. Calm settled over the house and compound as men and women returned to their unfinished night and tried to catch up on lost sleep.

  Talon woke early with an uneasy feeling. He tried to put it aside and go about his normal morning tasks. After having paid Max a wakeup visit, he went to check that the horses were fed. Max was getting stronger and up to a little activity, so they spent time after a breakfast of dates and goats milk, cleaning their saddles and leather in preparation for another day out on the estate, perhaps with Malek or with Kazim, who had not yet appeared from the house at this early hour.

  Having sweated over tack cleaning, Talon suggested they go to the bath house, which Max had learned to enjoy. It was a secluded place where they were able to talk in low tones about their plans for escape. Max felt well enough to ride, although his shoulder still gave him some pain. It remained a concern that if by any bad luck they were forced into a fight, it would still be difficult for him to assist Talon. “We will just have to disappear at night with our horses and put as much distance between us and the good people of this place as we can, Talon,” Max said. “Do you think the master will try to stop us?”

  “I don’t know, Max, but I have an unsettling feeling about Lord Abbas. I could swear I have seen that man before, but I do not know where,” Talon said in a frustrated whisper.

  It was time for class and he was expected to join the children. He hurriedly dressed, leaving Max to go back to his room and rest. He made his way towards the spot in the garden where they held their class room. No one was waiting under the old fig tree. He changed direction and went to the stables instead.

  Talon assumed the family was catching up with the news the Lord Abbas had brought with him from Cairo and the war, and thus the children would be late. He carried on with repairing the tack, chatting with the syce who was busy grooming the horses. Bilal dawdled over to exchange greetings for the day. He jerked his head at the house on the other side of the maidan as he said, “We will not see our Lord till late this morning, Suleiman. He kept us talking into the night, demanding a full explanation of what happened when we were ambushed, and then he finally went to bed. I am sure his wife was still awake waiting for him.” Bilal winked and grinned. “But he will want to see you when he arises, so be available.”

  For some reason Talon did not want to hear the last part of Bilal’s words; he shrugged it off as he watched Bilal amble away with a short wave as he went to collect his horse held by a syce. Bilal then joined a small group of men already mounted. They were going for a ride to inspect a far corner of the estate on the other side of the lake.

  Talon stopped mending his tack and went to see the horses. As he approached the stables, he noticed a group of men lounging in the shade. There was a man who appeared to be from Nubia, for he was a deep ebony color and his head was covered with a tight frizz of black hair. Talon assumed he had arrived with the Lord. The large man was dressed as a warrior, in pants and boots rather than the loose abbaya that a servant normally wore. The men were talking and laughing and made no attempt to greet him as he passed, so he kept to himself.

  Max had not shown up either, and Talon imagined he was still resting after his bath.

  By mid morning Talon was just preparing to walk to the house and find out what was keeping the children when he saw Malek and another man come down the steps of the main house. Kazim was with them, and as soon as he saw Talon, he broke away and came running up to him.

  “Suleiman, my father is here and he wants to see you,” he squeaked, and he pulled on Talon’s sleeve to get him to move faster in the direction of his father.

  Talon came quickly, led by the excited boy, but as soon as he was near to the Lord Abbas he obeyed custom and went onto one knee, bowing his head to the man who stood in front of him.

  “Rise, Suleiman, that I might see who it is who saved my family and my honor,” said a voice that he recognized with horror. Slowly Talon lifted his head. Then he stood to face the Lord of the house. Recognition was instantaneous.

  “You!” exclaimed the man. He actually took a step backwards, such was his surprise.

  But he never let his eyes leave Talon, who was equally surprised. Talon looked around desperately, seeking some means of escape. He wanted to run and seize a horse and somehow flee the scene, but it was much too late for that, and besides he could not leave Max. These thoughts flashed through his mind as he stood rooted to the ground in front of Kazim’s father.

  “Seize this man!” roared the Emir Abbas to Malek, whose eyes were wide with surprise. “Seize him! Guards, to me now and seize this man!” he shouted again. His hand instinctively went to his sword and he half drew it.

  Men came running, and within seconds Talon had his arms pinioned then forced behind him, while the Lord Abbas glared at him.

  “There…there must be some mistake, my lord,” Malek quavered. He was utterly shocked, but although he feared his lord and master had lost his mind, the sudden change in events forced him to say something on Talon’s behalf, even if it meant danger for himself.

  “My lord, this is the man who saved the lives of your wife and children! He is a good man!” Malek protested.

  “He is a common criminal who escaped from my prison in Alexandria, and but for the Grace of Allah could have cut all your throats by now!” shouted Abbas. “I have been shamed by this…this prisoner.”

  He drew his sword and advanced upon Talon and his two guards. “Make him kneel! I would have his head. Now!”

  The men forced Talon to his knees in front of Abbas, who was still trembling with rage and had his sword raised to strike. There was a deathly, shocked silence which extended to everyone who was witness to the scene taking place in the middle of the maidan. Talon’s heart was beating furiously, but he was powerless in the grip of the two soldiers who had forced him down so that he could only see the dust in front of him.

  A drop of sweat fell from his brow onto the dust. It seemed to fall in slow motion and he even saw the particles of dust rising as it landed. He knew he was to die but could think of nothing at all; his mind was blank. Then, just as Abbas raised his sword to strike, Kazim threw himself at his father and clutched him around his legs.

  “No, Father! You must not do this! He is my friend and he did save our lives!”

  “My lord, Allah be my witness. He saved your family from a dreadful fate. Would you reward him this way?” Malek begged. He was clearly frightened of his master’s rage but determined to plead for Talon’s life.

  Abbas lowered his sword and stared around him as though dazed by his own anger. Then he said in a calmer tone.

  “I have heard you, my son. I shall not execute him now.” He pointed at Talon with the sword; it shook in his hand as he said in a cold voice, “Chain him and lock him up. If he tries to escape, kill him. I shall get to the bottom of this; in the name of the Prophet, I shall.”

  He stood aside while Talon was hustled off to have chains hammered onto his legs and wrists and then be tossed, none too gently, by the newly arrived soldiers into a feed room to await his fate.

  “Don’t even think of trying to get out! We will use you for spear practice,” they told him as the door slammed shut. Just as a precaution, men stood guard outside the rough door. Talon fell against the sacks and drew in a huge gasp of air. He felt as though he had not taken a breath since he first saw Abbas.

  Within minutes the door opened again and Max was thrust violently into the shed. He would have fallen had not Talon leapt to his feet and held him upright. Max was pale and in obvious pain from his wound. They had not been gentle with him. He groaned as Talon assisted him to sit on a sack of grain.

  “What happened?” he asked, a bewildered look on his face. He held
onto his shoulder, wincing in pain.

  “It is as I feared Max, I did know the man. The Lord of this place is the very man who bound us in prison in Alexandria. He recognized me,” Talon said. “He nearly executed me on the spot. But for Kazim and Malek, I would be dead now. As it is, I do not know for how long we are to live.”

  “Dear God.” Max had paled even more. “Now we are in for it. We should have left days ago.”

  “In your condition, Max? I think not. You are barely recovered; any journey would have opened your wound, and then what?” Talon said in a resigned tone.

  Talon sat on a sack of grain and rubbed his bruised arms. The chains clinked ominously on both of them, reminding them of their desperate plight, and he wondered why fate should have dealt him this blow. He thought of the opportunities he had had to leave, but had not. Max had not been fit to travel. Also he could not deny that he had been seduced by the comfort and calm of the place; he had been lulled into a false sense of security, and now they would either be executed here, or sent back to the prison to die.

  They made the best of the sacks of grain and arranged them in comfortable enough nests, where they waited during the next two days and nights they were locked in the hut. They were given only a small amount of water and some flat bread for sustenance.

  On the third day, Talon listened to the morning beginning in its usual rituals: the estate awaking at dawn, the cockerel calling, quickly countered by the call of the peacock from his stand on the tiled roof. From the distant mezzanine the call to prayers was floating on the still cool air, closely followed by the call to prayers by one of the older servants within the compound.

  He heard the familiar sounds of the bustling household and the stables where the horses were stamping, impatient for their food. He listened with half an ear to the conversation of the guards and the occasional laugh, but other than having some food brought to them, he and Max remained under lock and key.