by L-J Baker
“Not that I expect a creature like you to understand,” Honey Petal said. “A drunken, self-pitying nothing. It’s not hard to see why your brother-in-law thinks you unfit even for another woman.”
“You know nothing about my marriage!” Adijan wrapped a hand around the pendant. “And this drunken nothing happens to be your owner. Go back!”
Honey Petal looked furious as she vanished.
Adijan let out a long breath.
Adijan checked off the last of the goods listed on the cloth. She did a quick calculation, based on the normal profit margins Fakir used, and decided he didn’t charge as much as he could. Merchant Nabim squeezed out the last curl from his customers. Perhaps that might account for the inexplicable fact that people seemed to actually like Fakir, where Nabim garnered only respect.
She looked up when Puzu spoke her name. She saw two large, solid looking men standing over the spiky-haired youth at the front of the warehouse.
“Adijan al-Asmai, did you say?” Puzu scratched his nest of hair. “Yeah, you know, now you mention it, I have seen her recently. Let me think…”
Adijan dodged down behind a roll of carpet, ran at a crouch past a row of sacks, then sprinted for the back door. Fakir emerged from his office. Adijan bounced off him, cracked her head on the doorpost, and sprawled on the floor.
“Nipper?” Fakir leaned over her. “Adijan?”
Adijan struggled to stand.
“Nasty bang on the nut, there, Nipper.” Fakir smoothed his tunic back into place. “Bit of blood. Hurt like blazes. But you’ll be fine. No harm done.”
Adijan grunted. Past Fakir, she saw the two men striding toward them. She pushed herself from the door, but Fakir held her.
“Bit wobbly, Nipper?” he said. “Sit down. Wouldn’t want your lovely aunt thinking I’ve made you do dangerous work. Wouldn’t want to distress her. The dear lady –”
“The Eye’s blessings on you.” The stockier of the two men nodded to Fakir. “We’re looking for Adijan al-Asmai.”
“Blessings to you,” Fakir said. “You’re in luck. Here she is.”
Turd.
The man pulled a cloth from his belt pouch and handed it to her. “Get someone to read it to you.”
The cloth had a lot of red threads running though it. She had no idea whose pattern that was.
“The Nipper can read,” Fakir said. “She’s a clever one. Her aunt had her taught. A wise, lovely, generous, and intelligent woman. Her aunt, that is.”
Both men stared at Fakir.
“Good.” The leader turned to Adijan. “You’re to appear before a magistrate to answer charges.”
“What charges?” Adijan asked.
“It’s all written there,” he said.
Adijan stared at the cloth, head still reeling. When she looked up, Fakir was escorting the two men back to the front entrance. Odd. They hadn’t arrested her.
She tottered to the nearest sack and sank onto it. Her fingers came away from her hairline covered with blood and she left sticky fingerprints on the cloth as she unfolded it. Shalimar’s name leaped out at her, followed closely by that of Hadim.
In this eighth year of the reign of Caliph Timurtash Hudhayl, the All-Wise, Noble, Blessed of the Eye, blah blah blah. It has been brought to the attention of his Excellency, the Renowned, Wise, and Most-Just Magistrate Khalil al-Malik Yuhar’ish, that Shalimar al-Asmai il-Padur has returned to the home of the head of her family, Master Merchant Hadim il-Padur, for safety and succor. On behalf of his sister, Shalimar al-Asmai il-Padur, Hadim il-Padur brings suit against Adijan il-Padur al-Asmai for neglect, cruelty, and dishonoring his family name. In the name of Shalimar al-Asmai il-Padur, Hadim il-Padur petitions the court for the dissolution of her marriage to Adijan il-Padur al-Asmai. All parties will present themselves…
Adijan stared numbly. Two more spots of her blood dripped onto the cloth. One obscured part of Shali’s name.
“Nice fellow,” Fakir said. “His cousin is married to my brother-in-law’s sister. Official looking cloth. Getting blood on it. Here, Nipper.”
Adijan looked blankly up at him. Fakir lifted her hand for her and pressed a scrap of cloth against the top of her forehead.
“Bit dozy, there, Nipper,” he said. “Puzu! Make coffee. Second thoughts, serve that customer. I’ll see Nipper right. Eh?”
Adijan’s mind limped back into action. Hadim had changed his tactics. He’d given up trying to get her to agree to a divorce and was instead going to get the court to end her marriage. Cruelty? How could anyone imagine she could be cruel to Shali?
She looked at the cloth again. The message, in stark black paint, remained the same. Six days. Her aunt hadn’t begun to raise a loan for the fifty obiks yet. They hadn’t even arranged a meeting with the advocate. These things were supposed to take time. But she might be just six days away from disaster.
“Here.” Fakir offered her a cup. “Drop of something to help. Honey wine. Grandpa swore by it. Lived to be sixty-six. Fit old stick until he fell off the roof. Might not have been because of the wine. But it won’t hurt, eh? Not if you don’t go near the roof. Drink up. Won’t tell your lovely aunt I gave it to you. Our little secret.”
Adijan accepted the cup. The pale yellow liquid was sweet and strong. She gulped it down.
“Now, what’s this cloth?” Fakir asked. “Something important, I’ll bet. That pattern is from the court. Is it from our man?”
“No.”
“He’s a good man. One of the best. He’ll see us right.” Fakir lowered his voice. “Your lovely aunt told me about the money thing. Don’t you worry about that, Nipper. Uncle Fakir won’t let you down. No need to say more, eh? Understand each other, you and I. Of course we do.”
“It won’t make a difference how much money we have.”
She handed him the cloth. Six days. And then all her hopes vanished. The end. No more Shali. No one to buy oranges for. No one to mend the rips in her shirt. No one to smile at her. No one to fill the house with stray children and laughter. No one to go home to when everything in the world went wrong. No one to make her feel like she was worth something. No one to dream with. No one to love.
No. She would always love Shali. No matter what Hadim did, the stinking puddle of dog piss couldn’t take that away from Adijan.
“Six days?” Fakir said. “Nipper, we’d best get moving. No time to waste.”
“What can we possibly do?”
Adijan slumped in the corner of the wine shop and sipped from a jug. Everything was beyond her control. Hadim and the rich, oiled men of the court were going to arrange things as they wanted. Had Hadim ever listened to Shalimar? How could he discount her wishes so easily? Unless…
Cruelty, neglect, and dishonoring the family name. They weren’t Shali’s words, but what if… what if Shali had been really afraid of the landlord? Adijan had left her to deal with him countless times. And what if Shali had grown tired of Adijan going off for days on end? She usually had children in the house when Adijan returned. Could she have been lonely? She’d never said anything. Had she? If she had, Adijan would’ve heard, wouldn’t she? Unless she were drunk.
Shali sometimes had a sad, confused, wounded look when Adijan staggered home to break the news of her latest failed venture.
“I’ve swived it.” She sagged against the wall. “He’s won and I’ve lost. And it’s my own damned fault.”
A weedy little man stepped past a rowdy group playing with gambling bones and nearly trod on Adijan. He looked like an unsuccessful pickpocket who had had a front tooth knocked out by an enraged mark.
“Blessings,” he said.
“Yeah, Eye watch you,” she said. “This spot is taken. My friend is outside peeing.”
“You Adijan? I asked Abu. He said you were.”
“What if I am?” Adijan looked harder at him, but without the faintest spark of recognition.
“Got something you’ll be interested in.” He lifted the wine jug in his hand. “Drink?”<
br />
“Sure.”
He sat too close. Adijan could smell rank sweat. But she accepted some of his wine.
He looked around before leaning even closer and whispering, “My wife is a maid. Works in the house of Merchant il-Padur.”
Adijan’s heart thumped.
“Seen you, she has,” he said. “That’s why they asked her to do it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Miss Shalimar. She wants to talk to you.”
Adijan snapped her head around. “Where? When?”
“Not so loud.” He put his finger to his lips. “My wife could lose her job if the master found out.”
“Tell me about my wife.”
“Seems Miss Shalimar is unhappy, like. Old Mrs. il-Padur, she wrings her hands and tells Nadira – that’s my wife – she fears Miss Shalimar is going to get sick if she goes on like that much longer. She tells my Nadira Miss Shalimar wants to see you. But she knows the master don’t like you being there. So Mrs. il-Padur is all weepy and not knowing how to manage. You want more wine?”
“When can I talk to Shali?”
“Well, Nadira tells the old lady she might be able to arrange things if the young mistress wanted to talk with you.”
“How?”
“Well, they figure it will have to be outside the house, on account of the master. And it’ll have to be when the master is out, ’cause he won’t like the young mistress sneaking out.”
Adijan grabbed his wrist. “She can get out of the house?”
“They figured she could swap clothes with my Nadira. Nadira and the young mistress being the same size and all. That way they could sneak her out past Koda and them. That were my Nadira’s idea. She’s –”
“When? Dung! The court case. It’s the day after tomorrow. She has to get out before then. Tomorrow night. Can you do that?”
“No. Master has arranged for a dinner at home tomorrow for some rich men. But he’s out tonight.”
Adijan blinked. “Tonight? Eye. You’re kidding?”
He grinned. “Time for another jug, before they get to our house.”
Adijan dropped her empty jar and stood. “Let’s go now.”
She wasn’t drunk – thank the Eye – but she wasn’t as clear-headed as she would’ve liked. But if Shali and her helpers thought she was going to let Shali tamely return to Hadim after a chat, they had another think coming.
They stopped at a door to a crumbling house in the area known as Thieves’ Row and less than a hundred paces from Dengan’s place. She followed him into a gloomy room with a tatty divan, a couple of stools, and worn floor mats. A whiff of stale urine and dust hung in the room.
“Where is she?” Adijan asked.
“They’re not here yet,” he said. “Not until dark. When Nadira finishes work. We should’ve stayed at the wine shop.”
Adijan was so excited she had to force herself to sit and feign calm. Soon, she could be out of here and running back to the friendly house with Shalimar. Then Hadim could file petitions until camels grew wings for all the good they would do him.
She gratefully drank to steady her nerves.
“Mistweed?” he asked.
“No, thanks.”
Adijan put her cup down. He refilled it without her asking, and lit a pipe. The sweet white smoke writhed from the glowing bowl and filled the air. Adijan soon grew warm. The second jug of wine he put in front of her tasted much nicer.
At some point, she shoved herself to her feet.
“Piss back there,” he said.
Adijan stumbled on one of the floor mats and fell to her knees. The room blurred and spun. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. What… ? Shali. Yes. Shali was coming. She had to be ready to run away with her. The room moved around her and she closed her eyes.
“Eye!” a female voice said. “Hold her.”
Adijan opened her eyes. She had her arms over the shoulders of the man and a woman. They dragged her into a passageway with wavering walls.
They dropped her to slump on the side of a bed. The room whirled around her. Her stomach clenched.
“She’s gonna puke!” a female voice shouted.
Adijan threw up between her knees.
“How much did you give her?” the female asked. “If you –”
“She’ll be fine,” a man said. “Stop your fretting. Help me get her clothes off.”
Adijan heard voices. She opened her eyes and tried to focus. Light from a large lamp showed her a strange, wavy wall. She lay on… something warm that moved. She blinked. Just beyond her face she saw a breast. Her hand rested on ribs. A naked woman. She was in bed with –
“Shali?”
“Easy, lovey. You just lie there like a good girl. Not long now.”
Adijan frowned. That didn’t sound like Shali. Or did it? She was very drunk.
The muffled voices grew louder.
“Adijan?”
That was Shali. Adijan twisted her head around to peer past a long, shapely thigh. Flickering torchlight outlined an unsteady doorway. Adijan struggled to focus.
“What is this?” the woman beneath Adijan demanded. “Get out!”
“Adijan?” Shalimar sounded confused.
“Shali? But…” Adijan frowned as she tried hard to realize what was happening. Shali stood in the doorway. So… the woman in bed with her wasn’t her wife.
“Come, Miss Shalimar,” a new voice said from the doorway. “You shouldn’t be seeing this. Let’s go back home.”
“Adijan?” Shalimar sounded close to tears.
“Shali?” Adijan tried to rise, but her muscles were like water.
“You poor thing,” Shali’s companion said. “To see your wife in the arms of a slut. The master will make her pay for doing this to you. You mark my words.”
“No.” Adijan reached out a desperate arm. “Shali?”
The woman on the bed shouted insults. Shalimar’s companion steered her away from the door. Shalimar cast a last bewildered, hurt look at Adijan.
“Shali!” Adijan couldn’t get up on hands and knees, let alone leap off the bed.
The voices and torchlight faded from the open doorway.
“Shali?” Adijan tried to crawl down the woman’s lower body.
“They’ve gone.” The woman shoved Adijan aside and wriggled from under her.
Adijan flopped. Her brain stuttered. “What? Shali?”
“All gone, lovey.” The woman pulled on a dress. She patted Adijan’s thigh. “Easiest silver obik I’ve ever earned. Sleep well.”
“Shali?”
The woman whistled as she strode out of the room.
“Shali?”
Chapter Nine
Takush bustled into Adijan’s bedroom.
“Why aren’t you ready?” Takush said. “You don’t want to be late for this. If you’re not there, the magistrate will rule in Hadim’s favor. Hurry up. Put your shirt on.”
Adijan swung her legs out of bed and accepted the shirt her aunt passed to her.
“You should’ve let Fetnab cut your hair,” Takush said. “You look like some wild thing. Pantaloons.”
Adijan stood and pulled her pants on.
“Fakir is waiting,” Takush said. “I don’t know how we would’ve managed without him. You really should be nicer to him. And you should’ve taken a bath. You stink. Well, it’s too late now. You’ll just have to dab on some of my perfume.”
Adijan bent to tie her sandals.
“I left offerings at the temple last night,” Takush said, “in both our names and your mother’s. Lahkma will be praying for you from Paradise. Her dying wish was that you be happy.”
“Thanks.”
When Adijan straightened she found herself the object of her aunt’s scrutiny. One of Takush’s plucked and darkened brows arched.
“Come here,” Takush said.
Adijan stepped into her aunt’s perfumed embrace.
“I know this isn’t a happy time for you,” Takush said. “B
ut we can win. This is your chance to get Shalimar back. The advocate will expose all Hadim’s claims against you as the lies they are. Hadim might have a more expensive advocate, and has probably bribed the magistrate, too, but his case is so obviously false he cannot win. And Shalimar will be there. Her evidence – Adijan?”
Adijan pulled away.
“What’s wrong?” Takush asked.
“Look, why don’t we not bother going? That way you won’t waste all that money. You haven’t given the advocate that gift yet, have you?”
“What are you talking about? Even a corrupt court can’t rule in favor of a divorce neither you nor Shalimar want.”
Adijan sagged onto the bed. “We aren’t going to win.”
“How can you say that? Hadim’s lies aren’t –”
“Auntie! We’re not going to win.” Adijan stared at her empty hands in her lap. The All-Seeing Eye knew she didn’t want to have to make this confession, but her aunt and plenty of other people were going to know soon enough.
“What is wrong? What have you done?”
“The other night. I was drunk. I woke up in this woman’s bed.”
Takush sucked in breath. “By the All-Seeing Eye! Was it that same woman you brought here? I warned you.”
“No. I don’t know who she was.”
Takush, lips pressed together, shook her head and paced as if she had to move away or give Adijan a slap.
“I was drunk,” Adijan said.
“That goes without saying. Oh, by the Eye, Adijan, how could you? It’s not as though you’re some eighteen-year-old man who can’t think of anything but his poker. You knew how important this hearing is. I warned you.”
“I know.”
“Do you know how much effort Fakir and I have been putting in to help you? Especially Fakir. And you go and do this.”
“I don’t know what I did. I can’t remember.”
“Well, that makes it all right, doesn’t it?” Takush shook her hands in frustration at the ceiling. “I hope your mother isn’t watching. Oh, Adijan. I could strangle you with my bare hands. Don’t you want Shalimar back?”
“Of course!”
“But you filled yourself with wine and – oh!” Takush’s bosom heaved as she struggled to get her emotions under control. “What am I going to do with you?”