by Mike Carey
BETHI: Don’t cry, girl! Halima speaks for me too. For most of us, I’d guess. If she’s a coward, so are we all. But I don’t want to run off to the edge of the world, either. Or to split up our company and leave my friends. None of us does. So what’s to be done?
MAYSOON: None of the choices is good, but I think Yrtsus is the least bad of the three. It gives us our best chance of safety. And I think we need to stay together. If we separate, we lose each other’s support, and we lose the chance to carry out the trades we’ve learned. And what do we have then?
NAJLA: But Farhat says we’d have to prepare for weeks before we could start that journey. We could all be murdered in our beds before we even set off!
FARHAT: If the vote is for Yrtsus, Zeinab and Issi can go at once for supplies.
ZEINAB: We could leave at dawn tomorrow. I think we can get all we need at Beyt Kirim, and be back in less than a month.
FARHAT: And if Hakkim is looking for us, it’s surely safer to stay here for that month than go travelling in groups to all the cities around Bessa.
UMAYMA: Like chickens running from the hawk! No: we should take the fight to him. Attack Bessa and regain it. We’ve shown we can do it.
MAYSOON: I come from Ashurai. When I was young, we had three new rulers in five years, and the city burned each time. If you’d seen that, you wouldn’t be so ready to call for war.
UMAYMA: But Bessa is ours, not Hakkim’s. Isn’t it worth a fight to get our home back?
ZEINAB: I don’t know. Before, when we fought, we had no choice. This is different.
UMAYMA: Before, I fought for my life and my son’s life. I’ll fight again for our freedom. Zeinab, what else can we do? If we run, if we go anywhere but Bessa, we’ll be in hiding every day we live. And even if Hakkim never comes after us, what can most of us hope for but slavery in some man’s household? We’ve built better than that!
[There is a silence.]
ZEINAB: Then I have a question for Zuleika.
We know we can fight: some of us at least. And yes, I’ll fight again to get Bessa back, to give my daughter a life there. But you said you’d make us into an army. We’ve seen what an army does. Hakkim Mehdad’s soldiers killed old men without weapons. They burned houses with people inside. They killed women and children, without thinking, because their leader told them to. I think that’s what soldiers do, they follow orders blindly, and I won’t do that. I don’t think any of us will.
[Many voices speak in agreement.]
So that’s my question, Zuleika. If the others feel like me, if we are your army, do you still believe we can take back Bessa?
[There is a silence.]
ZULEIKA: Yes.
It will be harder, and more dangerous. But you’re right, Zeinab. I can’t ask any of you to be what you’re not. A good general works with the materials he has. There are ways in which we can turn your limitations into strengths.
[Many voices speak in protest.]
MAYSOON: Sparing the innocent! That’s not a limitation!
ZULEIKA: But then I have a question for you in return. If we’re to avoid wholesale killing, we’ll have to use other means. Subterfuge, and spies. It will take time, and it will increase the risk for all of us. Are you prepared for that?
RIHAN: To risk our own lives, yes. Not our children’s.
JAMAL: Why can’t the children fight? It was my father they murdered. And it’s our city. Anyone who stands in our way deserves to get killed. Why are you having all this argument?
GURSOON: Jamal, if you speak again without raising your hand, I’ll send you out of the meeting.
IMTISAR: The boy’s no more foolish than anyone else here. Are you telling us in all seriousness that we must pretend to be soldiers?
ZULEIKA: Become soldiers.
DALAL: Not you, Auntie. You won’t have to fight.
IMTISAR: But you want to make your sisters into murderers!
DALAL: No.
UMAYMA: Yes. We’ll have to kill people. And some of us may die. But we’re all at risk right now: there’s no safe course here.
ZEINAB: That’s true. And if we can make a safe place for ourselves at the end, it would be worth it. Zuleika, I’ll take your training. But I won’t kill old men or children.
[There is a silence.]
GURSOON: Does anyone else wish to speak?
ISSI: Pardon me, lady, but my men and I need to know. Do we have a vote in this?
GURSOON: Certainly. Bessa was your home too. You have the same voice as us.
ISSI: In that case, I must tell you that we all want to go back there, but we’re not too keen on killing either. We don’t want to be called on to cut the throats of men we’ve worked side-by-side with in better days. But we’ll help you any way short of that. And if you decide to go to one of those other places, we’ll help you on your way as best we can. We’ll lend you the beasts, and we’ll go as far as Yrtsus with you if we must. But when you’re safely arrived, those of us with family in Bessa, we have to go back there. As long as that’s understood.
MAHMUD: The ones without family, we might stay, though, if we’re wanted.
[Several of the camel-men speak together. Gursoon holds up a hand to still them.]
GURSOON: You are all free agents. And thank you, all of you, for your honesty now and for your past help to us, when we would have died without it.
Now, if everyone has said all they need . . .
ANWAR DAS: One moment, lady, I beg you.
I know we have no vote in this momentous debate, but our chief has something he needs to tell you before you decide. Go on, Yusuf.
YUSUF RAZIM: It’s just that, well, we’ve got used to having you ladies around the place, and we all agreed . . .
TARIQ: Says who?
YUSUF RAZIM: We all agreed that we’ll help out too, if you want it. And we’re not so picky about cutting throats, either. And if you manage to go back to your own city, maybe you and us could still, what’s the word?
ANWAR DAS: Remain allies, lady. It would sadden us beyond measure to break our newfound friendship—especially now, when every path before you seems fraught with danger. As the most excellent Issi has just said, who but a worm, a man without feeling, would abandon you in such circumstances?
YUSUF RAZIM: That’s right. And then, once we’ve won, maybe this city of yours would have a space for a few good men, if you know what I mean? Get off, Das!
GURSOON: Our thanks to you too, Yusuf Razim, and to your lieutenant. Be assured that once we have made our decision we will be grateful for any help you are able to give us. And now, does anyone have any other suggestions to make?
Then we have three choices before us. We must decide on one, and agree to carry it out. We can separate and go in small groups to the nearer towns, starting at once. Or we can stay together, and travel to Yrtsus in a month’s time. Or we can resolve to fight, to retake Bessa for ourselves.
But before we vote, there’s something I must add. If a majority of us vote for Imtisar’s plan, we can put it into action at once. If not, we will need to take measures to keep ourselves safe here for at least the next month, in case Hakkim Mehdad comes looking for us. We will have to keep watch, and arrange a means to escape or to hide ourselves: those arrangements must be made at the same time as our wider plans.
And one more thing. If the vote is for Zuleika’s course, everyone who has chosen it will begin training with her tomorrow. Please be clear: if you vote for us to reclaim Bessa, you are volunteering for the army that will attempt it.
And now I hope we are ready.
[The vote took place like this:
Farhat, Imtisar and Zuleika stood each to one side of the great rock, and the women, children and men were directed to stand with the one whose plan they supported. Anwar Das, who had no vote, off
ered to marshal the count, which he did by asking those who voted to arrange themselves in rows ten abreast. Some refused to choose at all, but most went to one or other of the three advocates. A solid square formed next to Zuleika; smaller blocks by the other two women. When Zuleika’s count topped two hundred and fifty, it was evident that the choice was made: for Bessa, and for war.]
GURSOON: The vote is clear: we stay together, and use all our power to reclaim Bessa for ourselves. Imtisar, Farhat, will you abide by this decision?
FARHAT: Yes, but with many misgivings. I don’t wish for anyone to be killed in my name.
IMTISAR: I cannot consent. But I’m an old woman—you’ll decide this without me.
GURSOON: I’m sorry, then, Imtisar. You can at least stay away from the fighting yourself.
I’ll ask Zuleika to speak to you now, since she is the one who can best lead us in this undertaking. When she’s spoken, I’ll declare the meeting over. Anyone who has a question or complaint can bring it to me afterwards.
ZULEIKA: Everyone who is prepared to fight will begin training tomorrow. I’ll also need several groups of volunteers to go to Bessa. This will be the most dangerous of our tasks. They will be required to disguise themselves, and to lie well.
As Gursoon has said, the next priority is our safety while we train and formulate our plan. We must post guards at the pass and further down in the hills, to watch for riders from the direction of Bessa. And we must prepare some of the deep caves, so that everyone here can hide for several days if the need arises.
IMTISAR: I have something to say. This whole scheme is crazy, and I will take no part in it.
ZULEIKA: I’ve just said that you don’t have to. Only volunteers will go . . .
IMTISAR: Nor do I mean to spend my days in a cave, waiting to hear that my idiot sisters have got themselves killed in Bessa. Gursoon, I have sixty women here who wish only to leave this place and seek a new life in another city. Zuleika has just said she has no need for us. Let us go! We’ll split into caravans of ten or twelve to avoid notice; maybe two or three groups can travel separately to Perdondaris and the rest to Heqa’a or Diwani. Issi can lend us the camels and men for the journeys, and bring them back afterwards.
ZULEIKA: No.
GURSOON: Zuleika, there’s been no discussion.
ZULEIKA: No. Don’t underestimate our enemy, Gursoon. If Hakkim hears that some of us have been seen, he will try to hunt us down. Do you think he’d miss a caravan of ten women, on the road to Perdondaris? Still less half a dozen caravans, all on the roads at the same time? One group at least would be captured. If that happens, he will discover our plan and we will fail.
IMTISAR: We would never tell him anything.
ZULEIKA: I spent some time studying the assassin’s trade. One thing I learned is that there are ways of forcing a man to reveal even matters he’s sworn to keep secret; they would work just as well on a woman.
IMTISAR: But you can’t imprison us here!
ZULEIKA: I can. Try to leave these caves, and see how far you get.
GURSOON: Stop this.
Imtisar, I’m sorry, but I think Zuleika is right: it’s not safe to travel openly now. You have a right to take that risk for yourself, but not to endanger all of us. If you still wish to go, then leave on the day of our attack; then if we succeed you’ll be safe to go where you will. And if we fail, at least Hakkim will be distracted for some days afterwards.
IMTISAR: And you talk of safety! Listen to yourself, Gursoon! This woman wants to lead us against an army. We’re women. We don’t even have weapons! What will you do, march up and storm the city walls? They have archers. They have hundreds of armed men.
ZULEIKA: Gursoon, we should end this meeting.
GURSOON: We can’t end it now.
NAJLA: I agree with Imtisar. How can we defeat an army? It sounds like madness.
[There is a chorus of voices from the women with Imtisar, sounding agreement.]
BETHI: Maybe we can get help from outside. Zuleika, you told us you learned about fighting in a school. So you’ll have friends there, yes? Let’s go there and ask them to fight with us. We can pay them. And they’ll have weapons, too.
ZULEIKA: No. My bond with the school ended when I joined the seraglio. They would not help us.
IMTISAR: Oh, this is all stupidity. We might just as well go for help to the seven djinni!
[There is a silence.]
BETHI: Well, why not?
JUMANAH: All the stories tell of people who visited the djinni before a great undertaking. They could tell us how best to succeed. Or at least let us know how much chance we have.
NAJLA: They could help us. But they could strike us down as well.
BETHI: They can’t be more dangerous than what we’re planning anyway! I think we should try it.
FERNOUSH: What, all of us?
JUMANAH: Just a few representatives. And we have to plan very carefully what to say to them. . . .
ZULEIKA: Wait. You mean all this seriously?
MANY VOICES: Yes!
Why not?
They’re powerful. What other help do we have?
ZULEIKA: We have knowledge of the enemy, our resolution, our own hands and minds. We can make our own plan. We don’t need help!
IMTISAR: And can you foresee the future, Zuleika? The women have spoken. We should visit the djinni: perhaps you might listen to them.
ZULEIKA: Gursoon. This is foolishness, and we don’t have time for it.
GURSOON: I agree. But I think we will have to do it. Look at them!
SOMEONE: Who will go? Who will talk to the djinni?
SOMEONE: Has anyone here seen them before?
END OF THE RECORD.
Postscript, by the hand of Gursoon:
At this point in the discussion our scribe, Rem, became ill, and the record was interrupted. Only a dozen more people spoke before the meeting ended. It was agreed that I, Zuleika, Imtisar and one or two others would make the journey to the cave of the djinni, and if we could find those beings, ask their counsel. In accordance with tradition, we will leave tomorrow at sunset. The extra day will allow us to set up the safety measures that Zuleika has advised for the whole community, and to agree on the final number who will be in our party. Issi may accompany us to represent the men: we go on foot, of course, but he could be invaluable to us in finding our way back here after the meeting. By choice we would bring Rem, as the only one among us who has met the djinni before, but she has no wish to see them again.
REM:
I never saw it. Not even when I spoke the words that led to this. How did that not warn me? Every action has consequences, and I see them. When someone makes a choice, when I make one myself, a dozen futures will be there that were not there before, immediate and potential, both trivial and momentous. I once almost lost my mother her job by running off with a cake she was about to sell, because I saw a child choking. When I decided to disguise myself and work in the library I was overwhelmed with new visions for days, so many that I could not steer a path between them.
But I said: “We take back Bessa!” I said it to Zuleika, for whom decision is action, and to all the women of the community, who would support her. And I never saw a thing. I was so swept away by my own enthusiasm that I didn’t even notice. I never considered what that blindness could mean.
The djinni are jealous and secretive—the gifts they give do not include power over themselves. And now we’ve put the final decision in their hands, and I cannot see even a glimpse: not of them or what they might say. And not of the future that will come from their words.
The thought of them makes me sick to my heart. How could I bear to go back there?
But how can I bear it, not knowing?
Givers of Gifts
They set off, as agreed, at sunset the next day. T
he party was in some ways an oddly assorted one: Zuleika, as leader of the disputed campaign; Imtisar, as her chief opponent, and Gursoon, to keep the peace between them; also Issi the chief camel-man, who had agreed to come for reasons not entirely clear, but whose expertise would be valued as a pathfinder. Lastly, there was the foundling, Rem, who had not wanted to come at all.
“Look at her,” whispered Bethi to Thana, as the slight figure followed the others into the setting sun, her head bowed. “I heard she’s been there before—she even has the sight herself—but she looks like she’s being sold off in marriage.”
“To a fat man of eighty,” Thana agreed.
“With bad breath.”
They giggled, but Thana quickly sobered. “If she has the sight,” she said, “that long face of hers is a bad sign. What’s she so frightened of? There are some bad stories told about the djinni.”
Most of the women watched the pilgrims’ departure in silence. Many shared Thana’s fears—word had spread that Rem, alone of all of them, had once met the djinni, and the girl’s reluctance to go there again gave them no great hopes for what the venture could achieve. A few of the children, more curious or adventurous than the others, looked on with envy. Jamal scowled and swiftly turned away to throw pebbles against a rock. But most felt only anxiety for the fate of the travellers, mixed with a wordless sentiment that translated roughly as: Sooner them than me.
It was Farhat who dispelled the mood, turning from the others to spot a pile of sacks and blankets still stacked in the middle of their camp.
“Zeinab!” she cried. “We need to get all the foodstuffs stored in the lower cave. Can we organise a team to carry the rest down? It’s almost dark. And Umayma, does everyone know who’s on the guard rota for tomorrow?”
The women turned from their watch, some sighing, some grumbling, to resume their evening tasks. Small fires were lit in their usual hollow, and Thana and Halima brought out the dried meat and saltbush leaves for supper, helped by the bigger children. The youngest ones were fed and chivvied into bed. Any woman or man not immediately engaged in work was rounded up by Farhat and Zeinab to carry the last of their supplies underground, to the hideout that Zuleika had ordered in case of attack from Bessa.