Assassination in Al Qahira

by James Boschert

  They were sweating in the heat of the storage room beneath the late morning sun, unsure what the day might bring, when they heard footsteps approaching the door. There were low voices and the latch was lifted. The Nubian bent his head into the entrance and beckoned Talon to come outside into the sunlight. When Max tried to follow, the man shook his head and motioned Talon impatiently to come with him.

  “God save you, Talon,” Max whispered. He crossed himself.

  Talon did as he was told. He had to squint in the harsh sunlight. The Nubian took his arm and held him in an unbreakable grip while two men at arms accompanied them across the maidan.

  They were followed by the curious looks of the servants around the compound.

  “Do not try to escape, Kharagi, or I shall break your neck,” muttered the Nubian as they reached the steps of the house.

  Talon clinked his way up the steps, then Panhsj pushed Talon into a large room where the Lord Abbas was seated on cushions upon a raised platform, with his son Kazim on his right and his wife and daughter on his left. The women were veiled and seated almost behind Abbas. Talon noted with some surprise that Khaldun was also there seated to the right of Kazim. There were guards just inside the door, and more on either side of Abbas. Malek and his brother Bilal were off to the side by the windows, looking awkward and nervous. Everyone seemed either grim or very worried.

  Talon was shoved roughly to his knees and held there in the silence that greeted their arrival.

  “I recognize you very easily now… as this was the position you were in when I saw you last in Alexandria,” Abbas grated.

  “My lord…” Talon began.

  “Silence! You have come into my house under false pretenses and it is lucky for everyone I arrived when I did, as Allah alone knows what mischief you would have accomplished if I had not,” Abbas blared.

  “You have caused me enormous trouble, shame, and even risk to my life; and yet I am told by my trusted servant Malek and his brother Bilal that you saved not only their lives, but those of my wife and children during a deadly attack a couple of months ago. If my wife had not confirmed their story in every detail, you would not be alive this minute. But you have lied to them all this time about who you are. You have deceived them. Now, what have you got to say to me?” He sat up and glared at Talon.

  Talon, still kneeling, looked Abbas straight in the eye.

  “My lord, you are right, I am the prisoner whom you arrested in Alexandria, and yes, I did lie to your honored wife and everyone here. But we were saving our lives from wrong done to us. I am the son of a merchant, and I was robbed. At the time of my arrest, I and my two companions were rightfully trying to defend what was ours. The men who deceived us have either died or have left the shores of Egypt with my money. In this doing, I have lost one good companion and friend, while my other companion was wounded grievously when we helped your men protect my Lady and the children. I have lost much and gained nothing in this land that is your home.”

  There was silence so he hurried on. “The story I told your family and servants was to protect myself and in no way meant to harm. My pleas for a hearing were not heard in Alexandria, so why should I think that I would be believed here? But ask yourself, my lord, why would I try to save your people when my companion and I could have left them to their fate and ignored their predicament? Having saved them, why would I then try to do ill to them? Especially after they helped me to get better from the swamp fever, looked after my companion, and I believe saved his life. Why would I want to harm people who have done this for us, my lord?”

  “I suspect that you were responsible for the break out from the prison. I could have lost my head because of that,” snapped Abbas, almost as though he had not heard a word Talon had said. But he did not sound so angry now.

  Talon chose not to confirm or deny the suggestion. There was a long pause, finally broken by Abbas who continued, “You are a lucky man, Suleiman…if that is your real name. My wife, son and daughter and my venerated friend Khaldun here, even Malek and his brother, have begged for your worthless lives. Tell me, why should I not send you back to the prison again to die there?”

  Talon again looked the man in the eye. He had nothing to lose now but his life, and it mattered little whether he did.

  “Because I might escape again, my lord?” he ventured.

  He heard a gasp of surprise from everyone in the room, but he had been watching Abbas carefully. His eyes gleamed with surprise and amusement. A smile twitched at his lips and he had to move his hand over his mouth to prevent it being seen.

  He also noticed that Lady Khalidah had bent over and was struggling with her veil, as was Jasmine. Kazim was openly grinning. Khaldun began to cough into his beard, while Malek seemed to be having a heart attack off to the side as he leaned against his brother, whose face had swollen and gone dark as he too tried to control himself.

  Abbas took a deep slow breath, composed himself, and then spoke, almost timing his words.

  “When I saw you, two days ago, the first thing I wanted to do, before Allah, was to have you executed then and there. But you have ingratiated yourself with my family, and my servants speak very highly of you as a good warrior and indeed, a learned man of letters.” He paused.

  “While I shall ascertain for myself that this is all true, because I still suspect that you have bewitched them, I shall not send you back to prison, Suleiman, but I shall not let you go either. You are my prisoner and shall remain so at my pleasure.

  “You will continue your duties of teacher with my son, who for his own peculiar reasons seems to think highly of you. My wife has told me that no one else has been able to teach him both to read and to ride a horse. That is something of an accomplishment…if it is true.

  “Your companion will work for Malek on the estate, doing such duties as Malek deems fit.

  “If either of you tries to escape, I shall catch you and turn you over to my trusted servant standing next to you, Panhsj, who will kill you, very slowly, while I watch. Do I make myself clear, Suleiman?” Abbas asked, silkily stroking his beard and watching Talon from hooded eyes.

  Talon craned his neck to look up at the glowering Panhsj. Then he looked back at Abbas and said respectfully, “My lord, until the time comes when you give me my freedom and I can one day go home, then I am your servant. This I swear before Allah,” he said sincerely.

  Abbas nodded slowly then said, “Panhsj will take you to have the chains removed, and then you shall live in the servant’s quarters. You will resume your duties tomorrow and I shall observe how well you perform them. Malek, see to it.”

  Talon managed to send a grateful look towards the veiled ladies and Kazim before he was hustled out of the room by a none too gentle Panhsj. He was marched back to the blacksmith, who struck the chains off. As Talon was rubbing his wrists and waiting for the leg chains to be removed, Panhsj growled, “My master is not to be taken lightly, Suleiman. I am not to be taken lightly, either. Slave I might be, as you are now, but I shall still do as he says if the time comes when you break your word.”

  Talon turned and looked up at the big man. It was the first time he had been able to observe up close the features of the black man who stood in front of him. He was a good two inches taller, and although his scowl distorted his strong, even features, Talon took note of the tattoos and other marks decorating the cheeks and forehead. There was no friendliness, either in the words delivered or the dark hostile eyes that stared back at him.

  He said evenly, “I gave my word back there, Panhsj, and that is not something I do lightly either.”

  The last link had been struck and Talon turned and walked off without looking back. He might or might not have an enemy there, he decided, but at this moment he was grateful to have his life.

  Max came to his cell later, and the two talked for a long time in low tones.

  “It could have gone badly there, Talon. I heard, at least I think I heard, that you were insolent and the master decided not to k
ill us? How is this?”

  “It is true, Max, I was insolent, but he saw the truth of what I said. I told him that if he took me back to the prison I would escape again. He found that amusing, I think. In any case, our situation is that neither of us can escape. If we should try, he will have that black slave, Panhsj, kill us very slowly. Besides, I gave my word, so we are in God’s hands for now.”

  “I for one do not know where to go or how to escape from here, and I know that you would not abandon me to these heathens in any case. I suppose we must try to live with the hope that with God’s help we can escape one day, young master,” Max said in an effort to comfort both of them.

  “Max, I will make you this promise. I shall come for you when it is time, and if we do indeed escape back to the kingdom of Jerusalem, I shall stand witness to the Knights for your induction. You, more than anyone I know, should be a Knight Templar.”

  Max looked at him in surprise. “Master Talon, I am deeply honored,” he said with tears in his eyes. “But that can wait. We have to do some living here, in this place. It could be much worse…we could be in irons and in prison again, or dead. I think Lord Abbas has shown great mercy.”

  Why wallow in blood, my soul,

  And writhe in pain for all your sins

  And pour out your heart like water before

  The Highest, riven with suffering?

  — Levi Ibn Altabraan

  Chapter 10

  Slaves

  Life resumed its course, but there were differences. Malek and Bilal now avoided Talon, and he ate alone with Max. Each morning, once he had seen to the horses, he met Kazim and Jasmine in front of the house and they gathered in the garden, trailed by the nurses, where they would wrestle with the calligraphy and reading, or the numbers, as they sat on carpets and cushions that had been laid for them in the shade under the fig tree.

  Initially, Kazim had been very curious about Talon’s adventures while at the prison, but when Talon discouraged the questions he soon settled back into their earlier relationship and concentrated upon his lessons.

  Jasmine behaved haughtily towards Talon for a while, but he chose to ignore her when she was behaving in this manner and she found that the lessons were not as much fun, so she soon dropped the attitude. Before long the three of them were comfortably back in their little world of calligraphy, numbers and discussions. He continued enthralling them with tales of faraway places, much to their delight.

  On this day, Jasmine wanted to hear her favorite story. “Suleiman, tell us the story of Isolde again. It is so sad and romantic,” she sighed, with teenage dreams drifting behind her dark, heavily lashed eyes.

  Kazim snorted contemptuously and rolled his eyes; his sister glared back at him.

  “If there is time, Annessa,” Talon replied, using the polite form of Miss, which he always did with her. “I want to demonstrate to your father that you are both good students, so that he will continue to employ me as your teacher. Will you help me do that?”

  “What do we have to do, Suleiman?” Jasmine asked. “I like to have you teach us, and you keep my brother from being a pest,” she said with a sweet smile at Kazim.

  Kazim glowered and responded, “Suleiman, I will be good, I promise, but you wait, my sister, …till later,” he said ominously. Then he implored Talon with a whine, “Please do not make the numbers too difficult today!”

  Jasmine snorted contemptuously. “I don’t care how difficult they are, I can do my numbers.” This she said with much confidence. “You shall see.”

  “We shall do the calligraphy and perhaps some numbers,” Talon responded, with a suppressed grin. “I will not make them too hard, Kazim.”

  They were thus engrossed when Lord Abbas walked along the pathway that led to the small, shaded alcove where they sat. They were using a smooth board of juniper wood to support the paper. Kazim was laboriously working his quill over some complicated calligraphy forms that he was beginning to master. His ink-stained fingers clutched the quill tightly and his tongue was out at a corner of his mouth, he was concentrating so hard. Talon had promised him a small bow that he could shoot from a horse as a reward if he could master these letters.

  Upon Abbas’ approach, Talon bowed very low. Kazim looked up and said, “Father, have you seen what I can do?” He badly wanted to show off his skill.

  Abbas stopped and looked on for a moment and said, “I am delighted with your work, Kazim. You have made good progress, and I am pleased.” He turned to Talon.

  “It would seem that the greatest champions for your life, my wife and Khaldun, are right. You are a good teacher. My son is making progress. And Jasmine, my daughter, are you doing well?”

  “Oh yes, Father, I enjoy the numbers, and the calligraphy, very much,” his daughter said dutifully. She proudly showed her work to him, which he observed with surprised approval.

  “I am pleased with you both.”

  Abbas then spoke to Talon. “You will continue to work with the children as their teacher. When you are finished today I want you to come to the stables, and we will see what else you can do.”

  He turned and strode off, after patting Kazim on the head and nodding with a smile at his daughter. Talon bowed low again to his departing back. At least one test had been passed, he thought to himself as he exhaled.

  The lesson of the day finished, Talon walked to the stables, where he found Panhsj and some soldiers idling outside, leaning against the walls and doors. He looked about him, seeking Lord Abbas, but he wasn’t there, so he squatted in the shade of a wide sycamore. It was a hot day, and he was uncertain as to what Abbas had in mind for him. He kept a wary eye on the soldiers who had come back with Abbas from the wars, and he realized that he was the subject of their discussion.

  Panhsj was grinning and looking his way, but it was not a friendly look. He said something and two of the men got up and came towards Talon, hitching their sword belts up. They had not drawn their swords, but neither did they look as though they were coming towards him with any good intent.

  Panhsj sauntered along with them, and the men stood looking at Talon from a distance of twenty feet. He had risen warily to his feet as they approached, wondering what was going on.

  “I hear you are good with a sword and shield, Suleiman. Are you a real warrior, though?”

  “Real enough when it matters,” replied Talon, coolly.

  “Why don’t you show us how good you think you are?” Panhsj asked. He beckoned to the soldiers and told them to bring swords and shields.

  When the arms came, he tossed a sword at Talon, who caught it by the hilt in midair and then snatched one of the small shields that they also tossed his way. Panhsj muttered something to the two men. They were already armed, and without any warning they ran at Talon, who had just the barest time to position the shield and back away from the attack.

  He parried a heavy downward blow and took another on his shield with a loud clang that jarred his arm, and then he settled into a watchful crouch. His heart was beating fast, adrenalin surging through his veins. He breathed deeply to counter the effect and watched the two men warily. Panhsj was trying to hurt him, and he wondered why.

  This didn’t feel right. However, he had no time to ponder the situation. The two men, their turbaned heads tucked behind their shields and their swords raised, came at him from two different angles.

  Talon decided that he had to disable one of them to be able to manage the other. They were experienced men of war who knew combat, but were they fast enough? He feinted at the one then rushed in, catching the man for an instant off guard, and slammed his shield against him, pushing him back a pace while dodging the wild swing of the sword. The man had not expected this and took another pace back. Spinning on one foot Talon was able to strike at an unexpected angle at the other man, whose side was exposed. Talon sliced his sword into the man’s flesh, inflicting a nasty wound that, although long, was not deep. It hurt, nevertheless, and the man yelled and stumbled. Talon drove the hilt of
his sword savagely into the man’s exposed jaw and felled him.

  The man lay still in the dust on his face. There was a shout of surprise from the onlookers as they saw one of their own humiliated so quickly. A crowd rapidly formed and there were shouts of encouragement, but not just for the other man. Talon had become liked during his stay, and much to the annoyance of the soldiers, many of the syce and other garden workers now cheered for him.

  Whirling about on the ball of his foot again, Talon parried a blow aimed at his head. The blades rasped and sparks flew; then he danced out of the way of another vicious slash at his exposed shoulder. Had the blade connected it would have inflicted a very serious wound. Talon now knew the way things were going, so he decided that he was going to fight this man on his own terms.

  Having seen his comrade go down so fast, the other man was now more wary of Talon and avoided rushing in. Instead he played his blade in all manner of angles, slashing and whipping the blade back and forth, giving Talon few openings.

  Talon knew the man could hold him at bay for a long time, wear him down, and eventually take the offensive to him. He probably knew a thing or two about extended bouts, but Talon was not in the mood to wait it out. Then, to his surprise, the man took the offensive and managed to flick his blade just past the shield and cut Talon on the shoulder. He felt the sting and heard the cries of the watching crowd, but his own vicious return stopped the man from counting his victory too early.

  Talon could now see respect on the face of his opponent. He also noticed that the man would advance with his left leg well forward and then use it to spring his weight forward, just before he struck. He parried several attacks to see how the man behaved and each time that leg came forward, exposing the knee for an instant before the rest of the body followed.

  Keeping a wary eye open for an attack from some other quarter, Talon was ready for the next rush. He dropped to one knee, kept his shield high, then reached forward to cut into the side of the man’s lower thigh as he came forward. The agony of the cut made the man stumble with a yell of pain right into Talon’s shield that battered his own away, and then the haft of Talon’s sword felled him too.