Panhsj stood still, his dark eyes boring into Talon’s. “I think I believe you. We shall meet again in Al Qahirah. Go with God.” He turned abruptly and left.
Abbas and his men left before sun had risen above the eastern hills, leaving a void in the life of the compound. The greatly reduced household settled down to make preparations for the departure of their lord’s family. Although they were taking a boat, the lesson learned from the last ambush was still fresh in Bilal’s mind and he made a point to brief his men on how they would escort the family to the Nile. They listened attentively and then went off to get ready.
Bilal and Malek ate the evening meal with Talon and with Khaldun, along with Max, who had been invited to join them. This was a subdued meal, with little said. They all knew that it would be some time before they would meet again. The quiet, even contented routine of their days on the estate was at an end and another phase about to begin.
“I shall miss you, Suleiman,” Khaldun said after a while, munching on some chick pea patties and green onions. His beard went up and down when he chewed, which seemed somewhat comical, but his deep-set faded eyes were sad when he looked at Talon.
“I do not know what fate has in store for you, my young warrior, but I hope that Allah is kind and keeps you safe.”
“I shall miss you too, Hajji,” Talon said with feeling. “I have learned much since I met you. May Allah protect you and give you many more years so that I might come and visit you from time to time. Please find some time to help Max with his Arabic, as he told me he wants to be useful to Malek while we are gone. Malek is getting old and needs support,” he added, with a glint in his eyes.
This drew an indignant snort from Malek. He wagged his finger at Talon, who was grinning cheekily. Bilal clapped his brother on the shoulder and said laughing, “We will be back before long, my brother, to help you with the work load, never fear!”
“I am worried,” Malek said, staring upwards thoughtfully. “I wonder if two novices like you two can really take care of the family of our master. Perhaps I should come with you to explain how it is done?”
“Please do not joke about that responsibility, brother. Suleiman and I will do the job well, Insha’ Allah,” Bilal said more soberly, although he was smiling at his brother’s gentle jibe.
Malek put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I am sure of it,” he said, “but we will miss your jokes and your belches, but not…your farts at our evening meals,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
They all laughed; they were friends who were about to part and wanted to remember this moment with amusement.
“I would like you to come back, young Suleiman, and yes, I shall help Max with his learning,” said the old man after he had stopped holding his sides and had regained his composure. He smiled his almost toothless smile at Max, who understood and smiled back.
Talon had a visitor that night. Malek walked in carrying a pair of saddle bags that looked heavy and dropped them on his pallet bed. They chinked as they fell.
“I do not know where you got this coin, Suleiman, but it is not mine and it came with you. It was on your horse and on your companion’s. I have kept it safe because I think you should have it. So I give it back to you now.”
Talon stared at him in astonishment. Malek could so easily have kept it for himself. Talon had just assumed that he had.
Then he recovered his surprise, and in one stride he walked forward and embraced Malek. “Any mortal man would have kept it and said nothing, Malek.”
“Indeed, my young friend, but Bilal and I discussed this and decided that your need might be greater than ours. One day you will want to travel back to your homeland, whereas we are at home. I am content here on my beloved master’s land, and Bilal my restless brother is equally content to serve our master wherever he goes. We have no need for it.”
Talon did not believe him. “May Allah heap blessings upon you, Malek, for you are a very good and special man!” he said, almost overcome with emotion.
“I hope that Allah allows us to meet again, Suleiman,” Malek said as he left. “Peace be with you.”
Talon had one last visitor that night, but she did not stay long. Lamya, one of the women who waited upon Lady Khalidah, slipped into the room and kissed him without warning. She pulled back from him after the kiss, her huge black eyes smoldering.
“Will you see more of me in Al Qahirah, Suleiman?”
Talon grinned with surprise. She was a pretty young girl who clearly wanted to be with him, but they risked much should they get caught. “You must be very careful, Lamya. If they catch us together…”
“We will find a way. Will you see me?” she whispered fiercely.
He nodded, and she disappeared as quickly as she had come.
Talon sat down to ponder this new event. It did not make life any easier.
* * * * *
The entire household was already up making the final preparations when the roosters crowed. The convoy left in the cool of the early morning just as the sun rose in all its reddened glory in the east. Once again the Lady Khalidah and Jasmine were to travel in a palanquin. Talon wished that they might have traveled in a wagon, but such things were not, it seemed, in great supply in this land of Egypt. So some of the burly eunuchs who were part of her retinue shouldered the palanquin and carried her. It was not long before these strong men were sweating in the morning sun.
The scouts ranged well ahead and behind, alert for any sign of trouble, while the main body stayed close to the palanquin as it moved slowly along the dusty road.
They arrived at the banks of the great river without incident and within three hours of leaving the Estate. Talon was relieved to see the large boat which was to be their transport to Al Qahirah moored alongside the solid wooden platform that jutted out into the waters of the river.
Talon was awed by the sheer size of the river and stared across its smoothly flowing waters with great interest. But his admiration of the mighty river was cut short; he had to help Bilal organize the loading of the horses and baggage aboard their ship.
The Lady Khalidah settled into the cushions arranged under the awning at the back of the boat where a little breeze from the river could be enjoyed. Her children stayed with her in the shade. Talon marveled at how cool she looked despite the blazing sun overhead. He was sweating in his undercoat and in the chain armor he now possessed; his helmet pressed into his forehead, threatening a headache.
The crew cast off and they set sail down river towards Al Qahirah. They passed slower, heavily laden dhows which glided downriver towards the same destination. The boats carried cargoes of palm fronds piled high, dates, flax bales, salt, and sometimes what seemed to be roughhewn marble blocks that weighed the hulls down to the point where their decks were almost level with the water. Others passed them going upriver, tacking in the wind and making much slower progress, fighting the current. The passengers and crews of these boats stared curiously at the rich trappings of the fast moving boat slipping past with its important looking passengers. Talon continued to watch carefully when these boats came too close, and Bilal would shout to them to stand clear.
“Tell me of this city we are going to, Bilal.”
“It is a big city, Suleiman. There are some magnificent mosques, some have been there a long time; but our Sultan, Allah protect him, is building more…and palaces also … and the great citadel is his too. The city was partially destroyed during the battle for control when the Sultan had to fight the Nubians, who were in rebellion.”
“I thought the Nubians lived to the south of here, Bilal.”
Bilal nodded and continued. “Their kingdom is there, but there are many Nubian slaves who live as soldiers — we call them Mamelukes — along with other races here. They were here in the Fatimid kingdom before the sultan’s uncle won it. These men would not have wanted to go back home to the primitive conditions of their own land after tasting the power and riches of this country.”
“So wh
y did they rebel, why didn’t they just become subjects to the sultan?”
“Because their former masters were in revolt; they liked it as it was before, corrupt and rotten to the core. You must remember that when Nur Ed Din, the Sultan of Syria, sent Salah Ed Din’s uncle Asad al Din Shirkuh here, it was not in friendship, but to conquer and to change the people from being Shia heretics, and bring them back to the true faith, Sunni.
“Were you all then Shia once?” asked Talon, although he thought he knew.
“Many of us were, but for the most part it was the ruling families; the rest of us were Sunni or Christian or Jewish. Most have seen the light since; besides, it is better to be with the winning side in any case,” Bilal said with a grin, his dark eyes flashing with amusement at Talon’s surprised expression. “But there were many more Christians and Jewish people here before the Ayyubi family came and deposed the Fatimids.”
He sobered. “But there is still some distrust of the ‘Old’ families, such as our master’s, which his enemies try to exploit at his cost; but his loyalty is above reproach. He has proved his loyalty to the Sultan over and over again.” He stared into the water of the Nile and continued.
“The men in power underestimated the young Sultan then, which led to a great battle in the streets of Al Qahirah that nearly destroyed a whole section of the city because the Nubians destroyed it with fire, to deny it to the Sultan’s men. Even now that does not make any sense, but they did.”
“Is he now completely accepted by all?” Talon asked.
“On the surface of it, Suleiman, he seemingly is, yes. But there are always elements who would like him to fail. The empire of the Fatima was here for almost three hundred years; many generations of the great families do not find it easy to just accept a man from elsewhere as their leader. They consider him an upstart. He might not be one of the hated Turks, but he is a Kurd; hence, not one of them. They had it much as they wanted before, because the previous sultans were weak and their viziers were corrupt. It is not easy to change everything within a short space of time. I think they underestimate him,” Bilal said confidently.
The heat of the day made it difficult to see the detail of both banks, but Talon could make out the tall papyrus reeds lining the banks with the occasional mud beach where there lay some long dark shapes.
“Bilal, what are those things that lie on the sand over there?” he pointed.
“Those are known as crocodiles,” Bilal told him. Talon had to have that explained to him, never having seen one before.
“They are the dragons of the water, Suleiman. They are fearsome creatures that can gobble up a child whole, but long ago my people worshipped them. We are still in awe and fear of them. It would not do to fall into the water anywhere near to them. They can swim very fast and they will seize an unwary camel, horse or man in their huge jaws, drag him into deeper water, and then roll until their victim is drowned and quite dead, then they eat him.”
“Have you ever seen one do that?” Kazim piped. He had just joined them in the bows. He was obviously bored sitting with his mother and the ladies who waited upon her.
“Hello, young Lord,” Bilal said with a mischievous grin. “Are you ready to be eaten by a crocodile?”
Kazim shuddered. “Bilal, I shall tell my mother. You are supposed to protect me!” he said uneasily.
“Fear not, noble lord. We are here to protect you and we will with the help of Allah,” Bilal said soothingly.
He turned to Talon and said,“I once saw a foal being taken; it was drinking from the river. Its mother was grazing on the side of the bank and should have been watching for danger.”
“I shall never forget the terror in the foal’s eyes when it was seized. I was nearby, but could do nothing for the animal. We had not known a crocodile was so close. The poor foal squealed with terror and struggled desperately, but the monster pulled it in very fast and then there was a lot of spray and the animal disappeared for a while. Then I saw several of the monsters tearing it to pieces out in the deeper part of the river. The mother was running up and down the banks whinnying for her foal. It was very sad.”
Talon felt a cold chill as he studied the long, rough shapes on the banks, while Kazim blanched and shuddered. “They look enormous,” the boy said faintly, unaware that he had taken Talon’s hand.
“Some of them are more than four paces long from snout to tail,” Bilal said. “Is it small wonder that our ancestors used to pray to them?”
* * * * *
They arrived within sight of the walls of Al Qahirah late that evening. The city appeared to be a dense mass of walls and buildings that extended up and down both flanks of the river, which, Bilal had explained to Talon, split up into many rivers that flowed through a wide fertile delta and eventually poured into the sea. Talon was surprised at the amount of traffic; the river was crowded with small boats. There were sails to be seen everywhere, boats going in all directions. Large war galleys were anchored well away from the banks, while smaller boats darted in and out of the clusters of shipping near the port.
The river trip had offered a respite from the heat, but now it returned, with the added unpleasant smells of a crowded city that were carried to them on the light breeze. Talon wrinkled his nose at the stench that wafted across the open water as they approached their destination.
“What are those round domes over there, with what looks like a cross on them, Bilal?” He asked and pointed to them.
“Those are the buildings of the Greek Christians. They are known as Copts; they are the Christians who have stayed in Egypt, Suleiman. They say that long ago many Egyptians were Christian. Our Prophet recognized the other faiths of the Book, so they still live here.”
The ship was approaching a long wooden platform held up in the river by massive wooden piles. There was much bustle and noise on the bank, as gangs of slaves, bent beneath huge loads, carried cargo to and fro along the crowded quay. The skipper of their vessel skillfully placed the boat alongside the quay with only a gentle bump, and they tied up. Men shouted and whips cracked, as gangs of workers were directed towards their ship to help unload the horses and baggage.
An official looking man walked up to the boat, followed by a slave who was carrying a large book in his hands. This self- important man stood on the quayside and called over.
“Are you carrying any salt? Any flax loads, other cargo?”
“No cargo at all; only passengers for Emir Abbas Abdul Azim ibn Athir Faysal and their personal baggage,” Bilal said as he walked down the gangway. He swaggered over to the man and a quiet exchange of words took place. Some coin exchanged hands before the man turned to his slave and said loudly, “No taxes from this ship!”
Bilal sauntered back and said sotto voice, “Puffed up bag of papyrus seeds.”
Talon grinned. Bilal had done a good enough job of showing off his own importance.
It was unsettling to see slaves being driven with whips across the quay. They were prisoners from earlier battles or sieges who could not afford a ransom. He knew both sides did this, the Muslims and the Christians. It was an easy resource to replace, because the wars never ceased and provided an endless supply of man labor. The prisoners rarely lasted more than six months, when they finally fell due to exhaustion or disease. The body would be dumped in a ditch to rot and be devoured by the ever present carrion birds, or, if they worked on the river, he imagined they became food for the crocodiles. He could not look at the men and neither did he want to catch their eyes, he felt so uncomfortable. But for the grace of God, he and Max could have been among these poor wretches.
The party finally proceeded slowly through the busy streets of the enormous, crowded city towards the house of Abbas, leaving on the quay a small mountain of bales and other goods to be carried to their destination by slaves.
Despite the combined efforts of Bilal and the other men on horses, it was a lot of work to persuade the surly citizens of Al Qahirah to move out of the way of their large party. Even i
f it was clear to everyone that someone of importance was trying to get through, people seemed to deem it their right to walk along the middle of the narrow streets and to give way to no one. Whips and the hafts of lances were used liberally upon those who were too slow and the way cleared eventually. The curtains of the palanquins were drawn close to keep out the choking dust and to ensure some privacy for its occupants.
The house that Emir Abbas owned in Al Qahirah was a small palace. Bilal informed Talon that Abbas’s father, Emir Athir, had built it when Abbas had been a young boy. The house was now the home of his mother and the several concubines that his father had kept. His mother, Lady Emushire, had never left her home to travel to the other properties after his father died and now ruled the house with an iron hand, with the help of her chief eunuch, Chisisi.
The main building was constructed along elegant lines. The living quarters were spacious, well ventilated and multi-storied. The servants’ quarters at the back of the house, although not as well appointed, were nonetheless very comfortable and also well ventilated, with wide verandahs to keep the sun off the walkways. Talon had been told by Bilal that the new house had been built upon the ruins of a Greek villa, hence the plentiful displays of intricate tiling. The baths had been kept almost as they were, for their plumbing was intact.
Talon liked the place immediately, from the cool of the high arched ceilings to the sound of water that could be heard splashing in the courtyard fountains and the inevitable chirp of the sparrows in the shaded trees dotting the gardens.
The front section of the palace area had three stories, two of which could look over the wall fronting the street, but their shutters were kept closed, keeping the heat outside. The balconies and shuttered windows were enclosed with an elegant carved wood latticework which allowed womenfolk from the inside to see out but not been seen. The whole palace with its stables and extensive gardens was contained within a tall mud brick wall that had wooden platforms along the inside where armed men could stand and watch the activity in the street outside or defend the walls from would-be attackers. Even the sounds from the busy street on the other side were muted.
Assassination in Al Qahira Page 17