by Somaiya Daud
The doors to the celebration chamber finally loomed over me and opened. And there was Idris standing on the wedding dais, flanked by his aunt Naima and his cousin Fouad. Our eyes met and he smiled as if a revelation had come down to him. I reached a hand out to him, he took it, and I felt the rest of the world fall away.
* * *
Like the first wedding I’d participated in, I didn’t remember very much. I remembered Idris, his hand covering mine. I remembered the flash of lights from the journalist’s probe and a table being set before us. I remembered signing my name—mine, not Maram’s—on the wedding contract, and Idris lifting that same hand to his mouth and kissing it in front of all of creation. But eventually the formalities passed and the singing began. Food was brought out to the guests and a space on the floor was cleared. I sat beside Idris in the place of honor, our hands entwined, and looked out over our guests.
We had not passed so far from our time of conquest that their forms of dancing had disappeared too; several couples were on the floor. Buchra and Tariq. ‘Imad and a girl from Palalogea. And Maram and Aghraas.
Aghraas cut a handsome figure—taller than most men in the room, robed like one of the Tazalghit in maroon and black, her braids hanging free around her shoulders. She held Maram as if she were the most important person in the world, and her eyes never strayed from her face, nor Maram’s from Aghraas’s. I saw some of the elders watch them in the same way they had watched Idris and me, content with the understanding of how life could unfold for the truly happy who’d found their other half. Maram, rather than dressing in the Ziyadi colors, had dressed to complement Aghraas, and the image they made as they swept across the dance floor was striking and romantic.
But they were not the only ones who made my heart sing. My mother sat with the dowager and Idris’s aunt Naima, laughing as I had never seen her laugh before in my life. She had wept, if only briefly, when she’d seen them again, and I thought of the impossibility of what she’d endured. Civil war, exile, the total destruction of her immediate family and complete separation from the only people who had known her in her first life. Fate, destiny—something had brought her back here, with them. The new world would heal very new and very old wounds.
“Amani,” Idris murmured, and I turned my attention to him. He swept a thumb over my cheek.
“To eternity,” I said, pressing a kiss against his shoulder.
“To eternity,” he echoed.
The carousing continued, but eventually I came to my feet. I waved Idris back into his seat.
“I just want a little air. I’ll be back soon.”
There was a balcony just to the left of the dais, and it was there I went. The city continued to celebrate. A hundred thousand orbs of light swept through its streets, and music rose up into the air. The snow had at last begun to fall, fat snowflakes drifting down from the sky. The promise of something new and fragile.
The balcony door opened behind me and a wall of sound poured out into the air.
“Sorry,” Aghraas said. “I—”
“No,” I said, turning to look at her. “There’s enough space for both of us.”
She hesitated on the threshold, then at last came to join me at the balustrade.
“The noise is a little overwhelming,” she admitted.
I smiled. “I agree.”
She looked out over the city. “Maram would be horrified to hear me admit it, but I’m more comfortable sleeping under the stars. Closed spaces wear on me after a while.”
In the half light Aghraas’s face took on an otherworldly aspect. There was a glow to her, an iridescence that seemed inhuman. I did as I had done the first time I met her and reached for her cheek to trace her daan.
And from His first creatures He made stars, glowing hot with their fire and warmth.
All may see the stars, but few will see their forebears. And to those whose eyes see golden fire We say heed Us and listen.
“For we have sent unto you a Sign. See it and take heed,” I said in Kushaila.
Her face stilled.
“Who were you sent for?”
Her throat moved, as if she were nervous. “You.”
“And why did you stay?”
“For her.”
I drew in a shuddering breath. “You said to me once that you understood why they chose me,” I said softly, searching her face. “I understand why you chose her.”
Her eyes widened. “You do?”
“I know her better than most,” I replied. “I have had to. And I am glad to.”
I saw, too, what Maram saw in Aghraas. There was a sweetness to her in this moment, and a warmth that would have drawn Maram to her like a moth to a flame. At last she inclined her head.
“Get some rest, sayidati,” she said. “The new world requires a great deal of work.”
Coda: Maram
ONE WEEK UNTIL CORONATION, DAR AL-ZAHRA’
Maram stood in front of the image of her mother, grandmother, and herself. There was still much to do, and in truth taking this short reprieve at her estate was a selfish luxury. She’d wanted three days to herself, away from the planning and celebrations and reconstruction efforts. She wanted to breathe—Mathis’s assassination had thrust the world into motion and there never seemed a moment for her to stop. But they had come here—Maram, Aghraas, and her grandmother—without wizaraa’ or cabinet members or makhzen. Her small and very immediate family.
For the first time in many years she wished her mother were alive to see her. To see the world she so loved struggling back toward freedom. The daughter she had borne trying to shepherd it out of tyranny and decay. The mother she’d been forced to exile returned to the planet of her birth.
Aghraas’s feet made no sound on the stone and yet Maram knew the moment she’d crossed the courtyard to her. She slid her hand into Maram’s and drew her to her side.
“She would be proud,” Aghraas said.
“Do you speak to the dead now?” Maram asked without looking away from the portrait of her mother.
Aghraas squeezed her hand. “I don’t need to speak to the dead to know the truth.”
Maram turned at last to look at her. She wore a sleeveless brown tunic and loose trousers, and a heavy robe over it. Her braids were down and unadorned and her feet bare. Maram thought very few people ever saw Aghraas thus—she presented to the world as a warrior, implacable and unapproachable. But dressed thus and in the light of brass lanterns and the moon, she was closer to the falconer who’d first startled her on the estate. Before Aghraas could catch her watching, she lowered her gaze and turned Aghraas’s hand over in hers. Aghraas was still as Maram traced the tendons on her wrist and the love line bisecting her palm. She was patient as Maram contemplated the way her hand fit in hers.
She had done many difficult things in the past months. She could do one more.
“I don’t read very much Kushaila literature,” she said, voice hoarse. “But in Vathek literature, in the old stories, when marriage must be deferred people—lovers—plight their troth.”
“Oh?” Aghraas said. She lifted a hand and twined a curl of Maram’s hair around her finger. “Why would marriage be deferred?”
“Sometimes,” she began, then cleared her throat. “Sometimes, one wishes to wait. Or—there are too many ceremonies. Or—”
“Maram.”
Maram looked up at her, eyes wide. Aghraas’s expression had softened as if she’d seen something in Maram’s face or heard something in her voice and it had moved her. Vulnerability. Maram would only ever stumble as she was doing now with Aghraas.
She pulled her hands from Aghraas and walked to the table where they’d dined. A handmaiden had brought the small wooden box from her room a little while ago, and Maram laid her hands on it now.
“When reconstruction is well under way,” she said, looking down. “And it won’t be seen as an exorbitant—”
“Maram,” Aghraas said again. “What is in the box?”
She’d come for
ward as she said it and now stood beside Maram. Maram lifted the lid of the box and waited.
Inside were two rings—simple, silver, from her mother’s collection. She’d had them smelted down and reshaped, one enlarged for Aghraas, both set with one half of a single gem each. A yellow stone, flecked with red. The sound Aghraas made—Maram could not look up.
The falconer pulled one ring from the box—the smaller one—and held out her palm until Maram laid a trembling hand in it. Neither spoke as Aghraas slid the ring onto her fourth finger.
“A promise,” Aghraas said, and Maram retrieved the larger ring from the box and slid it over Aghraas’s finger.
“A promise,” she repeated, and her voice broke. So few people made promises to her worth keeping. It seemed foolish to hope, even in this new world order, but she wanted to believe so very desperately that she could trust in this. That she could be worthy of it.
Aghraas bent her head to Maram’s and her arms came around her waist and her mouth met hers. She never ceased to be surprised by her warmth or the frisson of pleasure that shot through her from a single touch.
“One heart, one home,” Aghraas murmured against her cheek.
And Maram looked over Aghraas’s shoulder at the image of her mother and felt for the first time that her mother’s dream had been realized. That she had found a world, had begun to shape one, in which justice and love could be one and the same.
POLITICAL FACTIONS
The Vath: an invading race of humanoids who have thus far conquered four planets, the most recent being Andala. They are ruled by a council of High Directors, and their king, Mathis.
The Kushaila: one of three main ethnic-tribal federations on the planet Andala bound by common language, traditions, and the first woman: Houwa. Largely based in the northern section of the main continent.
Banu Ziyad: the ruling tribe of the Kushaila who, before the conquest of the Vath, ruled the entire planet. They were decimated in the conquest and are now survived by Itou, the Dowager Sultana, and Maram vak Mathis, the Vathek king’s half-Kushaila daughter and Imperial Heir. Based out of the Walili province on the main continent. Their colors are green and gold, and their crest is a tesleet bird in flight.
Banu Salih: a ruling tribe almost as large and powerful as the Ziyadis, they were long allied with them before the conquest. In 4380 they attempted a coup against the Vath and failed. Idris ibn Salih is the only survivor of Vathek retribution from the main tribal branch. Their colors are green and red, and their crest is a lion’s head with a palm tree cresting over it.
Banu Mas’ud: a banner family to the Banu Salih, led by the twins ‘Imad and I’timad. Their colors are dark blue and gold, and their crest is a moon in sun.
Banu Nasir: a banner family to the Banu Salih, led by Khulood an-Nassiriya. Their colors are purple and white, and their crest is a dagger and coin.
The Zidane: an ethnic-tribal confederation much like the Kushaila, though they differ in their native tongue. Based largely out of the southern cities on the main continent.
Banu Wattasi: the largest tribe of the Zidane who aided in the coup led by the Salihis in 4380. Were largely obliterated by Vathek retribution. Furat al-Wattasia is the only survivor and is out of favor with the current royal court.
Banu Ifran: a small Zidane tribe who collaborated with the Vathek conquest and were in turn rewarded with wealth and lands. Now a power on the main continent. Their colors are red and gold, and their crest is a tower and palm frond.
The Tashfin: a tribal confederation based largely on the eastern continent and along the coast.
The Tazalghit: a nomadic pastoral tribal confederation known for their horses and cavalrywomen. Historically demanded tribute from city-states on the main continent, and later allied with the Ziyadis first in conquest and then in colonial resistance against the Vath. Many believe their numbers much diminished postwar, though they lead the rebellion in its current form.
THE VATHEK CONQUEST
YEAR 4356: Mathis commits patricide and takes over ruling the Vath.
YEAR 4359: The Vath begin conquest of the Outer Rim, with a young Mathis at their head. (The conquest includes Shlou and Rifa, and Moran-Andala is the final planet.)
YEAR 4363: The Seige of Andala begins.
YEAR 4364: Cadiz is seized and a base is established.
YEAR 4364: Vathek forces land on northern landmass, campaign lasts nine months.
YEAR 4367: The Vath take the south-southeast landmass.
YEAR 4369: The Seige of Walili begins, the loyalists buckle down and push Vathek forces out of Greater Walili and off the south-southwest landmass.
YEAR 4373: The Vath are now entrenched on the coastline, mass starvation and famine are rampant throughout the planet, and the planet is under imperial blockade.
YEAR 4374: A peace treaty is signed between Queen Najat and Emperor Mathis. They are married and the blockade is lifted. Maram and Amani are conceived this year. Idris is two years old.
YEAR 4380: The Bani Salihi, Wattasis, key members of the Banu Ziyad, the Masmuda, and others withdraw from the capital and assemble forces against the Vath. (Maram and Amani are five, Idris is seven.)
YEAR 4381: The loyalist forces begin negotiations. Najat dies suddenly. Itou is expelled from the Ziyaana to Gibra after a coup is attempted by Furat’s family. They are all put to the sword. (Maram and Amani are six, Idris is eight.)
YEAR 4384: Loyalists surrender.
YEAR 4385: Many of the loyalist elders and supporters are executed without warning, including the leading members of the Bani Salih, what remain of the Wattasis, and the dissidents among the Banu Ziyad. (Maram and Amani are eight, Idris is ten.)
YEAR 4393: Amani is kidnapped to the Ziyaana. Our story begins.
KEY TERMS
Cagir: a term that denotes common or low status among the Vath as part of the last name; always precedes the person’s father’s name.
Daan: tattoos signifying lineage and faith, a practice common among the tribal confederations of the main continent. Largely outlawed among the makhzen.
Dihya: the god of the majority religion on Andala, most commonly practiced by the aforementioned ethnic groups.
Makhzen: the upper echelons of indigenous Andalaan nobility, largely absorbed into the Vathek imperial structure. Many of the makhzen coming of age now were hostages of the Vathek regime in the early days of its rule and expected to be loyal servants of the state.
Tesleet: a holy bird and the servant and messenger of Dihya. Long thought extinct.
Vak: a term that denotes high and pureblooded status among the Vath as part of the last name; always precedes the person’s father’s name.
Ziyaana: the imperial palace in the capital city of Andala.
ALSO BY SOMAIYA DAUD
mirage
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SOMAIYA DAUD is the author of Mirage and a Ph.D. candidate at the University of Washington. A former bookseller in the children’s department at Politics and Prose in Washington, D.C., Somaiya is passionate about Arabic poetry and the cosmos. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Map
Dramatis Personae
One: Nasib: Prelude
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
01. Maram
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Two: Tard: The Hunt
Chapter 7
02. Maram
Chapter 8
03. Maram
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
04. Maram
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
05. Maram
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
06. Maram
Three: Fakhr: Self-Exaltation
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
07. Maram
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Coda: Maram
Political Factions
The Vathek Conquest
Key Terms
Also by Somaiya Daud
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in these stories are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
COURT OF LIONS. Copyright © 2020 by Sumayyah Daud and Alloy Entertainment. All rights reserved. For information, address Flatiron Books, 120 Broadway, New York, N.Y. 10271.
www.flatironbooks.com
Map by Rhys Davies
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-12645-0 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-12647-4 (ebook)
ISBN 978-1-250-23802-3 (international, sold outside the U.S., subject to rights availability)
eISBN 9781250126474