Karim stared at his old friend, startled by the severity of his words and realizing that Alaeddin ben Omar was correct in all he said. “It is simply too soon,” he said helplessly. “I am not ready for another wife.”
The vizier nodded. “I will greet the bride, my lord, while you go to Escape and make peace with yourself,” he told him. “Perhaps the caliph’s timing is not the best, but that is not the fault of your bride, now is it, my lord? She comes to you filled with hope, and with the same joyous expectations as any bride. If she is very young, she may also be a little frightened. After all she is being married to a virtual stranger, and sent far from her home. With your permission, I will have Oma visit her in the harem before you return.”
“Yes,” Karim said, “that would be kind.”
The two men went with the qadi that evening to the head imam of Malina. The wedding contracts were presented to him, and having read them carefully, the imam then performed the marriage ceremony. The bride was a wife before she even set foot upon the shores of Ifriqiya, though she did not know it. The following day Karim, in the company of half a dozen of his personal guard, rode into the hills to hunt, while his vizier rode to the city of Tanja to greet the royal wedding party. The trip, a three-day one by caravan, took only a day and a half, as Alaeddin ben Omar and his Saqalibah rode swiftly, without encumbrance.
The caliph’s governor in Tanja greeted them. He had been informed of the pending arrival of the prince’s bride, who would be embarking from Jabal-Taraq the following morning, weather permitting.
The next day dawned bright and sunny, unusual for late autumn. The sea outside the city’s bay was smooth and flawless. A watchman from atop Tanja’s highest point, the minaret of the main mosque, called out just before noon prayers that the convoy was in sight. The vizier, in the company of the governor, hurried down to the harbor to await the bride.
“You will stay another night, of course,” the governor said to Alaeddin ben Omar. “The lady will undoubtedly be exhausted by her crossing and wish to rest. Do you know who she is, my lord?”
The vizier shook his head. “It is strange,” he told the governor, “but the caliph’s letter mentioned everything but her name and family. Nor was it present in the marriage contracts.”
“Perhaps,” the governor responded, “they were not certain who they would choose until the very last moment. Such an important decision is not to be made without careful thought. The caliph is generous to send your prince a bride.” He smiled toothily. “Obviously Karim al Malina stands high in our gracious lord’s esteem. What good fortune for him, and for Malina, but then Abd-al Rahman is always kind to those he favors.” There was the faintest hint of envy in the governor’s tone. As a royal governor, he thought himself more important than a mere provincial prince.
“I must accept your word in the matter, my lord,” the vizier said smoothly. “Your knowledge is far greater than mine in such things. I am but a simple Malinean. I know my prince will want to thank you for your kindness.” He smiled faintly and bowed to the governor. Alaeddin ben Omar had met men like this one before: civil servants with large egos. To handle such persons one had but to be gracious and just slightly self-effacing. The Governor of Tanja, believing himself superior to everyone but the caliph, was soothed.
The ship carrying Zaynab and her party, as well as those escorting it, sailed into the harbor of Tanja. Unobserved, Zaynab watched the shore from the window of her cabin as the vessel drew near the dock. Karim had not come. He was sulking because the caliph had sent him a bride he thought he did not want. She smiled to herself. What a surprise he had coming. She saw Alaeddin ben Omar in the company of the Governor of Tanja.
“Naja,” she said to her eunuch, who stood next to her, “the large man with the black beard is Alaeddin ben Omar, the prince’s vizier.”
“Oma’s husband,” Naja replied. “He is a fine-looking man.”
“Yes,” she answered him, and then she smiled again. “If he asks you my name, make some excuse not to tell him. I am curious as to whether he will recognize me.” She chuckled wickedly. “I am certainly the last person in the world Alaeddin ben Omar expects to see, Naja. He will, I imagine, be just a little intimidated by the arrival of the woman chosen by the caliph himself to be Karim’s bride.”
“You are like I have never known you to be, mistress,” Naja said to her. “Why is this so?”
Zaynab put her hand on the eunuch’s hand and said quietly, “Because, Naja, I am free again, and I am going to the man I have always loved above all others.” Then she called to Rabi. “Bring me the small sandalwood box with the silver banding.” When the young servant had complied, Zaynab opened it, drawing forth three rolled parchments, each with a different colored seal upon it. “Gather around,” she told her servants. She handed a parchment to each of them: the one with the dark green seal to Naja, the red seal to Aida, and the blue seal to Rabi. “Before we left Cordoba I went to the qadi and freed each of you,” Zaynab told them. “These parchments are your proofs of manumission. I hope you will remain in my service, but if you choose not to, I will send you to any place you choose to go. It is important to me that those who have shared in my captivity now share in my freedom, and in my happiness.”
The three were astounded. “Lady,” Naja spoke for them all, “there is no way in which we can properly thank you, but I, for one, would remain in your service. I could have no better mistress.”
“And I will always cook for you, mistress,” Aida said, tears in her dark eyes.
“And I will remain also,” Rabi said slowly in her new tongue before slipping back into her native speech. “Yer a good lady, and I couldna hae any better life than wi’ ye back in Alba, where I should be poor again, and end up a whore to keep meself.”
“Thank you all,” Zaynab said simply. “Naja will give you your instructions before we disembark. We will probably remain the night here in Tanja before we start for Alcazaba Malina. It is a lovely place, and you will be happy there, I know. Now, Rabi, find my cloak. The vizier will be coming aboard shortly.”
Naja instructed the others quickly, as Rabi helped Zaynab into a beautiful mauve silk cloak with a narrow hood that came down to just above her eyebrows. The young servant fastened a silk veil across her mistress’s face so that only Zaynab’s eyes were visible. The veil was not a diaphanous one, but rather made of a heavier fabric.
There was a knock at the door, and Naja went to answer it.
“I am Alaeddin ben Omar, Grand Vizier to the Prince of Malina,” the man standing before him said. “I have been sent to welcome the princess.”
Naja bowed politely, and with an elegant wave of his hand ushered the vizier into the cabin. “Mistress,” he said to Zaynab, who stood with her head modestly bowed, “this is the prince’s representative.”
She nodded graciously in acknowledgment.
“My gracious lady,” the vizier said, bowing low, “I have been sent by my master to escort you to your new home. As we have a three-day journey ahead of us, we will stay in Tanja tonight so you may rest in comfort. May I take you to your litter now? It is large enough for your female servants as well.”
“My lady thanks you,” Naja quickly spoke up. “She begs your kind indulgence, my lord vizier. She is a modest woman. She has vowed that the sound of her voice and the sound of her name shall be first heard in Malina by her bridegroom, and not before then. She hopes everyone will understand.”
“How charming,” the vizier said, but he thought it odd. Still, the polite young eunuch was in deadly earnest. “Let us go ashore, then.” Alaeddin ben Omar sighed, for there was obviously nothing else to say.
The governor had assigned the prince’s bride an apartment outside of his own harem, much to Zaynab’s relief. She was not certain that someone among the governor’s women might not recognize her from her last brief stay. “Arrange to have the bath made private for me,” she told Naja.
“There is no need, mistress,” he replied. “This apartme
nt has its own small bath.” Naja had grown plump in Zaynab’s service. Fair-skinned with rosy pink cheeks and intelligent brown eyes, he was beginning to cultivate a certain self-assurance that came from being the trusted servant of an important person.
“Your explanation to the vizier was most resourceful,” Zaynab complimented him. “How romantic of you, Naja.” She giggled. “I shall not speak until I greet my bridegroom, nor shall any learn my name before he does. Allah! If you could but design a poem, Naja, ’twould be an epic one!” Then she laughed again. “When he learns the truth, the vizier shall be very amused, for he appreciates a good jest, my faithful Naja. Now, to the bath, for I am dying for perfumed water, and my hair is sticky with the salt air.” She flung off her cloak, handing it to Rabi.
In the early morning, they departed Tanja for Alcazaba Malina. Zaynab’s dowry and many belongings had been loaded upon a string of camels and into carts that were drawn by sturdy donkeys. The vizier was impressed in spite of himself.
“Your mistress’s family is very generous,” he remarked to Naja, who was overseeing the last-minute preparations.
“Yes, my lord,” Naja said with a cheerful smile.
Zaynab walked from the governor’s palace to the courtyard, and entered into her litter. She was once again muffled in all-enveloping silk cloak and veils, her head lowered as it should be. Alaeddin ben Omar could not even ascertain the color of her eyes, her form, or age. He wondered avidly what his new princess looked like. When they got to Alcazaba Malina, Oma would visit her in the royal harem, and return home to tell him.
The journey was an uneventful one. The night before they arrived, when they were once again on Malinean soil, the vizier came to Zaynab’s tent and told Naja he would speak with his mistress. Naja ushered him into her presence. She sat upon a chair, dressed in a simple caftan, a veil covering her head, another her face.
Alaeddin ben Omar bowed politely. “I was instructed by my master to tell you when you enter the city tomorrow, you enter it as the wife of Karim ibn Habib, gracious lady. The marriage ceremony was performed several days ago by our chief imam, the contracts being in good order. He hopes this satisfies you.”
Zaynab beckoned to Naja, who bent to hear her. Then straightening himself, the eunuch said, “My mistress is overjoyed by your words, my lord vizier. She wishes to know if the prince will be at the gates of the city to greet her.”
Alaeddin ben Omar looked uncomfortable. “My master is hunting deer and pheasant in the hills, lady. I am not honestly certain if he will be there tomorrow. He is an enthusiastic sportsman, and the winter rains will soon begin. He hopes you will understand. I have been instructed to see that you are settled in the royal harem. My wife, the lady Oma, will be happy to keep you company until the prince returns. I am sure you have many questions about your new home. She can answer them.”
“My mistress is most grateful, my lord vizier, for your words. She will welcome the lady Oma gladly,” Naja told him.
Afterward, when the vizier had left, the eunuch said indignantly, “What manner of man is this prince, my lady, that he will not welcome his bride?”
“A proud and stubborn one, Naja,” Zaynab said with a little laugh. “You see, he told the Nasi that he would never marry again because he loved a woman he was unable to have. You know that I am that woman. His mood will change when he learns the truth. In the meantime he hunts in the hills beyond the city, angry and resentful, determined to show this new bride he is the master of his own domain.”
They entered the city the next day, and to Zaynab’s surprise, the streets were lined with Alcazaba Malina’s cheering citizenry, who had come to welcome their new princess.
“Ohh, lady, ’tis a grand reception,” Rabi said, impressed.
Zaynab was touched, but she was also excited. Soon she would see her dear Oma again! Oma would be the only one to know her true identity until Karim came. Her friend knew well how to keep a secret. Remembering the vizier’s devotion to Karim, Zaynab knew that poor Alaeddin would be unable to keep himself from riding out to find Karim, and bringing him the good news, should Oma tell him the truth. Zaynab was curious to see how long it would take her husband to come home on his own. Her husband. Karim was her husband now!
Their procession entered the courtyard of the little palace. “Allah!” Zaynab cried softly. “I have forgotten about Mustafa! He will know me if he sees me, and he is permitted free access to the harem. Aida, tell Naja to come to me as soon as we enter the harem.”
Mustafa was indeed waiting to greet his new mistress. He stepped forward to hand her from the litter. Zaynab exited the vehicle, veiled, her head and eyes lowered.
“Welcome to Malina, Princess,” the head eunuch said.
“My mistress thanks you,” Naja said promptly, politely explaining why she would not speak for herself. He did not want to get on the bad side of Mustafa, who he knew was responsible for running the palace, and therefore an important man. They would have to work together.
Mustafa nodded at the younger man. Then he echoed what the vizier had said. “How charming.”
They were led not to the harem, but to another part of the palace entirely. She whispered to Naja, and he then spoke to Mustafa.
“Is this the place where the prince’s family was murdered, Mustafa? My mistress is afraid of ghosts.”
Mustafa then turned to Zaynab and said, “No, gracious lady. The old harem is shut up, and that part of the building will soon be destroyed. Your apartment is next to that of the prince, your husband. My master thought you would be more comfortable here until he can build a new women’s quarters.”
So, Zaynab thought, Karim had been considerate of the unwanted bride after all. She whispered again to Naja, and he turned to Mustafa.
“My mistress would not offend you, Mustafa, but she asks that you not come to these rooms until after she has met the prince. When is he expected to return home? She is anxious to meet him.”
“The prince has not yet sent word of his return,” Mustafa replied. No, he has left us all to cope with this new wife, the head eunuch thought irritably. Then he politely took his leave of Zaynab.
“Do you think he is curious as to why you do not want him here, my lady?” Naja asked. “He seems an intelligent fellow.”
“I do not think we have yet roused his suspicions,” Zaynab answered. “Mustafa is the most circumspect of servants. I think he will attribute my request to shyness.”
They settled themselves in the spacious apartments assigned to them. There was a charming small bath, tiled in green and white porcelain, with a bathing pool of green onyx. The day room was large and opened onto the garden, as did Zaynab’s chamber. This room had an octagonal domed ceiling with carved wooden pendants that were ornately painted. The floor was of turquoise blue and white tiles. There was a wonderful bed set upon a dais of fragrant sandalwood, but the rest of the decor had obviously been left for the bride to complete. Rabi and Aida immediately set about unpacking Zaynab’s belongings and hanging the sheer silk hangings, while their mistress, in Naja’s company, explored the rest of her rooms. The two found several small bedchambers in addition to the other rooms, but these were totally void of furnishings.
“Go to Mustafa and tell him what we need,” Zaynab said as they returned to the day room, which was prettily furnished with several upholstered divans, tables, and chairs. “I would have you all comfortable. And ask him when the vizier’s wife is coming to see me. Tell him I wish to learn all I can about my adopted country before my husband returns home.” Then she chuckled. “I cannot wait to see Oma’s face!”
Oma arrived one rainy afternoon. As they had been expecting her, Rabi answered the knock at the door, for she was the only one of Zaynab’s servants her friend did not know.
“Welcome, lady,” Rabi said politely. “My mistress is expecting you and has looked forward to your arrival. She requests that you do not scream when you see her, as it might bring Mustafa or the guards.”
What an o
dd request, Oma thought, and then her eyes widened as Zaynab came from another room, smiling. “Is it truly you? How …?”
Zaynab put her arms about Oma and hugged her. “Yes, it is really me, dearest Oma, and in the two months I have been gone, you have gained a little bit of a belly. It is most becoming.” She smiled. “The son of Alaeddin ben Omar thrives, I can see.” She took her friend’s hand and led her to a comfortable divan. “Sit, and we will talk.”
“Why did not my husband tell me it was you?” Oma demanded, outraged.
“Because he does not know it is me,” Zaynab told her mischievously. “He has seen nothing of me but a great muffled figure. I have kept my eyes lowered so he would not recognize me or grow suspicious. Naja has told everyone who will listen that I will not utter a word, or allow my name to be spoken until my husband comes,” she finished with a laugh.
“No one knows? Not even old Mustafa?” Oma was amazed.
“Not even Mustafa,” Zaynab assured her.
Oma shook her head. “How is it you are back in Malina, my lady Zaynab? Where is little Moraima?”
“Moraima died of the spotted fever while we were here last,” Zaynab said softly, tears springing to her eyes, and she told the rest of the story to her friend. “May the God of Abraham, Jacob, and Isaac bless Hasdai ibn Shaprut for his kindness to me; and may Allah continue to smile on my dear Abd-al Rahman, that they returned me to Karim. When I found that my child was dead, Oma, I actually lost my will to live. I had no hope at all, but they saved me,” Zaynab concluded. “They are wonderful men.”
“The prince will be so happy,” Oma said, honestly. “My husband has said how very unhappy he has been since his family was killed, even if he has done his duty by his country. He keeps no women, my lady Zaynab. He has become like a hermit, preferring his own company for the most part. He eats alone, hunts, and governs with a benign hand, but he has no real pleasures, and is so lonely. I have not really seen him smile in weeks.”
“Yet he ran off into the hills to hunt, rather than meet his bride,” Zaynab said tartly.
The Love Slave Page 43