Assassination in Al Qahira

by James Boschert

  “Bring food for us, much of it, and be quick,” Malek commanded. “Stop sweeping about, you are raising enough dust to choke us all!” he bellowed at a young boy who was whisking the hard packed ground near where they were going to sit with a tight bundle of twigs. The boy scampered off, his bare feet pattering. Malek, acting as the host, bade them be seated; his gesture included Max, who smiled at Talon and seated himself cross legged on a cushion alongside him.

  They were drinking mint flavored lemonade while waiting for the food, all talking at once, when they heard a call. Talon jumped to his feet. Coming towards them was Khaldun. He seemed to have aged since they had been away, even though it had only been a few months. His thin white hair was falling out of his loose turban in strands. He leaned on the shoulder of a small Nubian boy who supported him with care as he hobbled towards them; his rheumatisms seemed to be getting worse.

  “God be praised that my eyes see you! For shame, Malek, why did you not call me the moment they arrived?”

  “Aba, forgive me,” Malek was contrite. “We had to leave so quickly, and this is the time you like to sleep so I could not in all conscience wake you for the mere arrival of our friends,” he said with an attempt at humor.

  Khaldun wagged a finger at him and turned to Talon and Panhsj with a grin full of pleasure. “I am glad that we are together again! Allah be praised you are well, my friends. I welcome you home, even if that Malek has no use for me…an old man of no worth,” he said, inclining his head towards Malek and with a mischievous look.

  “Aba, how can you say that?” Malek held his open hands out and protested with a smile of affection for Khaldun.

  He helped Khaldun to be seated and fussed over him to make up for his neglect, and then it was time to hear of their adventures.

  Panhsj did most of the talking, Talon being content to let him, helping out here and there with the details. Panhsj told it well and at times emotionally so that there were many tears shed for the murder of their lord and Bilal’s last heroic stand. Malek was devastated at the loss of his brother but intensely proud of his sacrifice. There was fury at the unknown people who had perpetrated the outrages against Abbas. Panhsj told of the attempt upon Abbas’s life on the boat where it all seemed to have started. He did not fail to heap praise on Talon as the story unfolded.

  The baskets of nuts and fruit and fresh herbs arrived from the kitchens and Talon enjoyed again the simple but excellent fare of the estate. Within minutes pistachio shells and other nutshells were strewn across the linen sheet that passed for a table cloth as they cracked them open and waited for the main meal to arrive. When it did, Talon’s mouth watered at the smell of the stuffed pastries full of chicken and cabbage, the roasted quail and pigeon and a crispy, fatty, force-fed goose. The aroma teased Talon so that he salivated. He sniffed at the small salted and pungent fish and other delicious morsels of food with pleasure. Someone had killed a lamb in their honor, and they ate roasted kid meat with bread and vegetables growing this season. It was followed, hours later, by sweetmeats of many flavors, rose essence and citrus blossom essences, and sticky with honey. Meanwhile, Panhsj and Talon, in between mouthfuls, told the story of their escape and eventual trip back up the river. Piping hot coffee was brought as the men continued to share their experiences. Panhsj was very vague about how Lord Bahir had died and Talon cast him a thankful look. He had no doubt that Panhsj would tell Malek one day exactly what he knew, but not today. It was late in the afternoon when the sun had lost much of its heat that they began to close in on their present situation.

  At one point Malek got up and disappeared to see if Khalidah needed him, as she was now the head of the household and he was very conscious of his responsibilities. He was gone for about half an hour, during which time Khaldun brought them up to date on the condition of the estate.

  He nodded approvingly at Max and said, “Your companion is doing well with his language and understands most of what is said, although he will never be as good as you, Suleiman.” He smiled at Max to take the sting out of his words. “He has proved his worth here and helped Malek a great deal.”

  Max glanced at Talon, flushing with embarrassment, but he was pleased with the praise. Talon punched his companion lightly on the arm. “We shall make time to talk together. How is the wound?” he asked.

  “It still gives me twinges from time to time, Ta…Suleiman, but for the most part it is well healed,” Max said with a smile, covering for his near mistake in using his real name.

  “Suleiman has been given his freedom, Aba,” Panhsj said casually.

  Khaldun looked at Talon shrewdly, the wrinkles more pronounced than ever around his eyes. “I am pleased for you, Suleiman; it must have been for a great service. I am intrigued to hear about your relationship with the King of the Beggars. Indeed, it is amazing how little we understand that which goes on under our very feet. That is an unusual story; you must tell me more about that some time. Allah be praised that he led you to these people.”

  Malek rejoined them. “My Lady is fatigued and needs to rest, but in the morning she has commanded that everyone attend her to discuss the future.”

  The men nodded their agreement. It was time to find the baths and get cleaned up. Talon was desperate for a bath.

  Later, feeling refreshed and clean for the first time in what seemed like weeks, although their ordeal had only been for a few days, he joined Max on the wall at one of the corners of the estate. The bats were already out hunting, high in the clear air, darting here and there, flying low over their heads. It was quiet, and the two men could lean on the crude mud wall battlements and converse without being disturbed while enjoying the cool breeze that now came in from the lake to the west of them. The light had become soft and the shadows were subdued.

  “Max, you look so different from that last time I saw you! I went away concerned about you, but now look at you! You look fit and well, God be praised.” Talon threw an arm over his friend’s shoulders.

  Max nodded and said, “There were some moments when it was very much in the hands of God, Suleiman.” He used the name as though to keep his mind on it while they were in their current situation.

  “Malek and the physician still had concerns for me, but as you can see I am well recovered. Malek has insisted that I practice with him at the sword and shield, you remember that kind of dance? Then we ride out every day to the estate, sometimes twenty or more miles. I must take you to the hot springs where we go sometimes to bathe. It is a wonderful medicine for my wound.”

  “What? You take baths regularly?” Talon pretended to look shocked. “Don’t you know it is bad for your health?”

  Max laughed and said, “I now understand what all that fuss was about that you made when we were in France. It is a good feeling…no?”

  “I imagine that my Lady and her children would agree with you there, as I do Max; I do not have to favor the upwind of you anymore,” Talon said drily with a grin on his face.

  They talked long into the evening and then, because Max still needed his rest and Talon was weary to the bone, they walked back to their quarters through the garden shrubs, upsetting a cat about to pounce on a rodent.

  Sleep was not to be just yet for Talon. He ran into Khaldun, who was seated on a large stone near the stables and called to him in the gloom. Talon felt he had been waiting for him.

  “Suleiman, come and pass a few minutes with an old man who cannot sleep. I would hear from you what happened.”

  Talon could not refuse. “How is it that you are not abed, Aba? It is late. I am glad we have come back; I have missed the peaceful atmosphere of the Fayoum, so different from Al-Qahirah. And I rejoice to find you in good health.”

  “I, too, am glad to see you well, although you look thinner. From what Panhsj has told me you are now a free man, and that you earned it.” He paused, staring at Talon with a face unreadable in the gloom, framed by his white beard and the loose linen turban.

  “Tell me, Suleiman, tutor of my Lady�
��s children, how is it that you seem to have known the beggars so well, and that my lord’s enemies seem to die so mysteriously soon after you have disappeared on an errand, and that you play such good chogan?”

  “I thought we talked about my years in Anatolia, Aba. That should be explanation enough as to my education; and for the rest, I learned to play chogan in Isfahan.”

  Khaldun raised his hand. “My boy, I do not seek to find fault, or to condemn you in Allah’s eyes. You have been an avenging angel for the family of Abbas, and for that may God praise and protect you.”

  Talon said nothing.

  “No…it is just that I sense there are two of you.”

  Talon tensed.

  “There is the one who we know and have come to trust, respect, and perhaps even to love,” the old man continued. “But there is someone else within you that we will never know, and that person is known only to Allah. He is the one whose soul I am afraid for, and that one is, perhaps, the real you, Suleiman? Are you someone we should fear?”

  Talon sat in silence for a long moment in the darkness, and then he leaned forward and took Khaldun’s thin and gnarled hand in his. Lifting it to his lips, he kissed it.

  Khaldun made to pull his hand away but Talon held on to it with firm fingers.

  “I have missed your wisdom and perception, Aba. But know this before Allah, I swear, may my life be forfeit, that neither you nor anyone in this place will ever have cause to fear me. However, that is not true for our enemies. May Allah’s blessings and peace be with you. Good night, Hajji.”

  “I pray that Allah be kind to you, my young friend. Good night,” the old man whispered as he placed his hand back on his lap and watched Talon leave.

  The sellers of glass worked in peace

  And paid no attention to the sounds of the mouse,

  Until to protect them they bought a cat—

  Who shattered all their wares when he pounced.

  — Yitzhaq Alahdab

  Chapter 22

  Assassins

  Talon awoke to the call of the peacock. He could imagine it opening its huge tail majestically as it strutted across the rough roof tiles of the servants’ quarters. Its call was answered by another in the gardens. Talon rolled over and lay quietly, listening to the sounds coming from the maidan: the horses stamping and snorting into their food, the clip clop of hooves on the hard packed ground as some were taken out to the polo field to graze under the sharp eyes of the syce. He heard the bark of a dog, and a yell, and then a sharp yelp as someone threw a stone that struck its target. He wondered at that. Dogs were tolerated but not treated well here, he had noticed. The syce chattered to one another and to the soldiers who were awake as they went about their tasks. He enjoyed the clarity of the sounds coming to him on the cool morning air.

  Breakfast was a quiet affair. Malek, although pleased to see them, was deeply saddened by the death of his brother, and the rest of them respected his grief. Bilal had always been a cheerful presence at mealtimes. After the basic fare that they had had to eat with the beggars, the food they ate this morning tasted wonderful to Talon. Panhsj obviously agreed with that sentiment, as he ate a huge quantity of food in silence.

  An hour later, Talon, Khaldun, Malek and Panhsj were seated on the carpet in the entrance room of the main house. Max had not been invited, as he was not yet part of the inner circle. They lowered themselves on floor cushions in front of Khalidah, who was seated on the raised dais formerly occupied by her husband. She was carefully veiled but seemed clear of eye and well rested.

  Khalidah spoke. “By the grace of Allah we have survived and are home. I and my family mourn my husband and will always, but I and my children have much cause to be grateful to Suleiman, Panhsj, and in particular your brother, Bilal, who saved us from a fate worse than death with his sacrifice. It will not be forgotten.” Malek bowed his head in acknowledgement of the words.

  “All our tears flow for your loss, my Lady. I shall pray for their souls. May Allah be kind to them upon their arrival for judgment.”

  Khalidah nodded and then continued. “However, I am informed that we were seen when we arrived at Beneade by possible spies, and I am curious as to how you think we should react to this news. What say you, Suleiman, what does it mean for our safety here in Fayoum?”

  Talon sat up straight, looked around at the men with him and then directly at Khalidah and the children. Everyone was looking at him.

  “My Lady, if they truly were spies then I do not think we have much time. I would say perhaps a couple of days, but no more.”

  Kazim and Jasmine gasped with surprise. They had been confident that they were now safe. Khalidah gave a sigh of resignation, as though she had suspected as much.

  “What do you advise?” she asked.

  “I do not think we can defend this place against a well-coordinated attack, my Lady.”

  The argument began, as Malek and Panhsj were adamantly opposed to leaving the one place where they felt safe.

  “We have food and defenses, Suleiman. Why do you say that we cannot defend ourselves?” Malek exclaimed.

  “Our walls are thick mud and brick. We could withstand a siege, at least until help came from Cairo,” Panhsj said.

  “What help?” Khaldun interjected, his tone skeptical. “You have just come from there and the only help you had was from the beggars,” he added, his head nodding to emphasize his point.

  “Not only that, but we do not know if Haytham managed to get to the sultan, nor indeed whether the sultan believed him,” Talon said. “Apart from Bahir, we don’t even know who our enemies are. One is gone, but we know there are others. There certainly is one very powerful man among them, and there might be more.”

  “What you are saying is that we cannot go back to Al-Qahirah even if the sultan has returned because we do not know who our enemies really are?” Malek exclaimed. He sounded incredulous.

  “What if I were to throw myself upon the sultan’s mercy and ask for his protection?” Khalidah asked.

  “You could do this, my Lady. However we do not know if he has returned to the city, and we can’t anticipate when another attempt might be made upon your son. I am sorry to be so blunt, but we need to be clear about our situation.”

  “My father lives in Alexandria. Why could I not go there?”

  Malek seemed to like this idea. “I agree with you, my Lady. There you would be under the protection of your father, a powerful man who has much influence in the city. The children would be safer there and a message could be sent to the sultan explaining the situation and asking for his protection.”

  Panhsj, who had said very little up to this time, agreed with Malek. “My Lady’s father lives in a small palace that could easily be defended with our men and his, Suleiman. It is better built than this estate for defense. Why should we not do this?”

  Talon did not feel comfortable disagreeing with the rest of them. “I cannot argue against this idea, my Lady, although I do not feel good about it. However, I do not have an alternative to offer. If this is the decision we agree upon, then we should prepare to leave soon. Malek, you cannot stay either, as to do so might place you in grave danger.”

  “Which way would we go? Down the river by boat would be the quickest way, but it is perhaps also the most dangerous,” Malek said.

  “To stay here is to be trapped between the desert to the West and the river to the East. Anyone with horses could catch us with our backs to the lake and then we are finished,” Panhsj said gloomily.

  “Do we not own ships of your husband’s anywhere?” Talon asked Khalidah.

  “I cannot say. Perhaps, but as you saw we have none at present,” she responded, looking embarrassed at not having the information at her fingertips.

  “My Lady, we have only the feluccas, and they are small. We always relied upon the large cargo ships to take our crops and our salt to Cairo before,” Malek explained.

  “It is not for only your lives I fear,” Talon said reluctantly.
“This estate may be vulnerable.”

  “They are trying to hurt the young master, Suleiman. Once they discover he is gone from here, why would they try to destroy this place?” Malek asked.

  Talon said nothing. The kind of enemy they were up against would have few scruples about burning the place to the ground and everyone within if they thought it would hurt the family. The property could be rebuilt later, but lives could not. He had quickly learned that the Fayoum was a green pearl in the economy of the entire country. The revenues from the farmlands encompassed by the property were enormous by any standards in Egypt and were a ripe fruit for the picking now that Abbas was gone.

  The discussion went back and forth. However, it was clear that a decision had been made, and they knew that they needed to prepare to leave as soon as possible. They agreed not to take the river as there were no boats available for the entourage that would have to accompany a complete movement of household. Camels would need to be obtained, and then they would go overland to Alexandria. Eventually, when other options seemed exhausted, the men were given leave to depart. Khalidah asked Talon to remain for a minute.

  She looked up at him. “Tell me, Suleiman, you who seem wise beyond your years. How long does grief last, and why is there so much pain?”

  Talon was taken aback. He was not used to being a source of wisdom to people, and twice now he had been called upon to provide comfort.

  “Perhaps you should ask Khaldun, my Lady. His life has been full and I am sure he has known both pain and grief of the kind that you are talking about.”

  She gave an impatient flick of her hand. “He is a dear and valued friend who is very wise, but his memories are dimmed by age. You, I think, know of these things and have felt them not so long ago.”

  “Indeed, my Lady, but a man like Khaldun would tell you that only time and Allah in his infinite kindness can heal the wounds of loss great as yours, so he is still the wiser man.”