The Stone Lions

by Gwen Dandridge

  “Tea is calming, is it not?” Tahirah said, smiling at the girls. “I believe it is time, perhaps even past time, for our next lesson. Suleiman, I hope you are now full and ready.”

  The mouse looked up, cheeks stuffed with food. After what appeared some internal debate, he mumbled, “Uff courshh,” and swallowing, joined the group.

  Tahirah pointed behind her to a stack of ceramic tiles on the floor. “I searched out some tiles for our lesson. This will make it easier to explain and not use expensive paper. As you remember, your last symmetry was a horizontal reflection. And the one before that was a vertical reflection.” She paused. Suleiman scurried over to the tiles and ran around each one. “I instructed you to find the horizontal symmetry, making absolutely sure that it did not also have a vertical symmetry.”

  “Yes, we were very careful about that. You said it was important,” Ara recalled. Layla nodded.

  “This third symmetry has both a vertical and a horizontal reflection. Both symmetries exist in one design. That’s why it was important not to find a vertical symmetry with the horizontal one last time. Let us put together some of the tiles to make this pattern.”

  Suleiman, who had been carefully examining the tiles, placed a paw on some. “Here, this is the first example I showed you, a triangle,” he squeaked. “Take these four tiles and make a design that has both vertical and horizontal reflections.”

  Ara and Layla sat down near the tiles. This didn’t look too hard. Layla reached to pick up a tile and then looked at Ara, who nodded encouragement.

  Layla left the first tile alone and slid the second directly below it and turned it until the blue was on the bottom. The next two tiles she placed on the right side. One she placed white edges matching with the top one, and the other she slid under to match.

  She looked up at Tahirah when finished. “Is this correct?” she sounded, uncertain.

  “Perfect, though there are other answers. Now explain why it is correct,” Tahirah encouraged, obviously pleased that shy Layla solved the problem.

  The girl lay on her stomach, studying the tiles. “Well, the two on the top are the flips of each other…and the tiles below look exactly like a mirror reflection of the ones above.” She hesitated then, less confident. “But mathematics isn’t really this easy, is it? It’s always been hard for me. Ara is the one who likes math.”

  Tahirah thought before responding. “It can be simple. Mathematics is a human way of explaining the world. It gives us some insight into the wonders that Allah created. Part of the world is very simple, and part is more complex.

  “The basics of mathematics are very easy. Complex mathematics is only the basics added together, step by step. Each step is not complex, though the whole may seem that way.

  “It’s as dance is for you, Layla, or playing the lute for Ara. Placing your finger on a string and plucking a note is not hard, but playing a tune takes much practice. Playing many tunes well takes again more practice. Mathematics also takes practice. You are learning to think in different ways and, as you do, it becomes easier.” She smiled down at the girls. Suleiman climbed upon Layla’s back and surveyed the scene with the air of a miniature ruler.

  Tahirah, though still appearing uncomfortable with the mouse, pressed on and, from another small, stack set a new tile on the floor. “Here is a more complex example of the double reflection we are studying.”

  Ara touched the tile. “I’ve seen this. It’s in the Hall of the Two Sisters. I never noticed the symmetry of it before.”

  “Yes, it’s a copy of the one on the far left wall as you enter. It is very lovely, is it not?” Tahirah said, admiring the tile maker’s work. “One more point I need to make with this symmetry is that it looks the same right-side up or upside down.”

  Layla screwed up her nose. Ara also looked unsure. “You mean if you turn the tile upside down, it still looks the same?” Ara said, turning the piece around. “Oh. It is the same. How odd.”

  “That’s it?” Layla’s smile was hesitant. “Just if it’s the same when it’s upside down as right side up?”

  “Yes.” Tahirah agreed, smiling, as she took out more tiles. “Now make this pattern into a band or row.”

  Ara took two more identical tiles and lined them up edge to edge with the first.

  “Good. If you look you can see that the reflections in the row are a bit different from the single tile. The row has only one horizontal flip but there are multiple places within the row where there is a vertical flip. You could put a mirror between each tile and it would reflect, or you could put a mirror straight down the exact center of a tile and it would also reflect.”

  “Yes,” Ara exclaimed, understanding. “There are many places where it could be folded in half and match exactly.”

  “I have said that you two almost teach yourselves, and it is very true,” Tahirah said looking very pleased. “You remind me of your mother.”

  Ara straightened. “You remember my mother?”

  “Certainly. I was fortunate to have her in my classes. She was such a bright light. As are both of you. I am Allah blessed to have served two generations of clever girls.”

  They stood, grinning at the praise, and prepared to leave, Suleiman hidden again in the folds of Layla’s sleeve.

  Ara suddenly leaned forward and said in a near whisper. “The wazir. We heard the wazir talking. He knows his evil spells are unraveling, and he searches for Suleiman.”

  “We heard he still believes that Suleiman is a lizard,” Layla said, “but he thinks Suleiman is somehow undoing his magic.”

  Tahirah frowned. “We have been fortunate, have we not? The wazir searches for the one who thwarts him in his magic. He is arrogant and blind and hasn’t yet turned his eye toward the harem. I have placed spells about the palace to avert his interest from us. How long they will last, I cannot say.” There was silence in the room except for Suleiman’s anxious breathing. “Allah forbid that he learn of your involvement.

  “Every day that he is unaware of your connection to the magic is a day we rejoice. I count each as a blessing from Allah.” She bowed her head. Many heartbeats passed while Tahirah regained her composure.

  “You have less time yet again, only five and one-quarter days, and much of this day has vanished with our Christian guests. But all is not lost. The People of the Book are gone, and no more beet juice must be cleaned from the lion fountain.” She smiled wryly.

  Ara shook herself out of her fear. “Wait, before we leave. Can we use this same symmetry? The one from the Hall of the Two Sisters? Does it count?”

  “The magic works as long as you see a broken symmetry, one that in your heart you are seeking. Be very careful who you ask for help. A secret is no longer a secret when two people know,” she warned. “This lesson is over, so off with you. Remember, courage outweighs fear.” Opening the door, she waved them out of the room.

  Chapter 23

  The sun was low in the sky when the girls, accompanied by four guards, left Tahirah’s rooms. Worried about finding the newest symmetry soon enough, they searched the walls as they entered the Palace of the Myrtles and headed for their chambers.

  Zoriah, surrounded by seven servants, called to them from the top of the stairs, “Are you girls done with your lesson?”

  “Yes, but we have assignments to complete.”

  Zoriah turned away from them to one servant, who hovered attentively. “No, it can’t be done tomorrow,” she told her. “I want the rugs cleaned now.” She turned back to the girls. “And I want you to go and make sure that the Mirador de Lindaraja is completely cleaned.”

  “Now?” Ara said, surprise in her voice. “Us?”

  “Yes, now and definitely you.” Zoriah’s voice sounded exasperated. “How do you expect to learn the running of a castle if you don’t start while you’re young? You can’t tell servants and slaves how to do something if you haven’t done it yourself. Now, go with the servants and help them get the rooms in order.”

  Ara and
Layla looked at each. They were tired, and Suleiman still hid in Layla’s sleeve. Each hour they didn’t find the symmetry was an hour lost forever. The wazir knew something was wrong—what if he looked to those who were close to Suleiman? He might guess they were involved.

  Ara couldn’t speak.

  “Of course, Zoriah,” Layla finally answered.

  As they left the hall, Ara muttered under her breath, annoyed at Zoriah and frightened of what could happen.

  “You know she’s right. We have to learn,” Layla said quietly, so the servants accompanying them wouldn’t hear.

  “But not now,” Ara snapped. “We have no time. What if we fail? Neither of us sleeps at night for worrying.”

  “She doesn’t know that, and we can’t tell her,” Layla said.

  “But the wazir is doing something with the Castilians. I know he is.”

  Layla placed her hand on her cousin’s shoulder. “Nothing we can do will change that. We must stick to our task, repairing the Alhambra and Suleiman with it.”

  Ara sighed and then shuddered at this new thought. “What if the wazir comes looking for us?”

  Ara watched as her own fear bloomed in Layla’s eyes.

  The girls climbed upstairs to their room, both too tired to talk. Cleaning and scrubbing, airing carpets and polishing floors had taken much of the evening. Zoriah had checked before they had finished and suggested that the kitchen staff could use help the next day with counting a shipment of food that had just arrived. It had been a long evening. As they stumbled into bed, Ara fervently hoped Zoriah would find some other girls to take under her wing and train. She wasn’t sure she would survive her lessons.

  The next day servants joined them directly after breaking fast, and the girls followed them to their tasks. The evening ended as the previous one, with both girls falling into bed exhausted.

  It seemed morning dawned before they had barely closed their eyes. The voices of the muezzins rang out the call to prayer.

  “I’m sore all over,” Ara protested as she slowly pushed off the bedcovers. “I thought we were done with scrubbing and polishing and cleaning when the Christians left.”

  “And counting jars and jars of olive oil,” Layla added recalling tallying the large shipment unloaded from the wagon the previous day.

  “Break fast time!” chimed a shrill voice near Ara’s ear. Suleiman clambered off her pillow and skittered over to the bed’s edge. “Hurry, get up. We need to eat.”

  Ara eyed the mouse with sleepy annoyance. “Can’t you think of anything but your stomach?”

  Suleiman drew his portly mouse-self up to his full height. “Of course, there are many things of equal importance as one’s health. One is treating your elders properly. You are a girl and I...”

  “Are a mouse.”

  Layla, ever the peacemaker, sat up and offered her outstretched arm for Suleiman to climb. “You are our tutor and friend. First we pray to Allah, the gracious, and then we will go with much speed to break our fast.”

  Ara muttered under her breath as she stared at the ceiling with ill grace, then blinked in shock, suddenly awake. “Found one!” There on the ceiling was a double reflection symmetry. This one was blue and gold with umber edges. But it was complete, not flawed in any way.

  Layla leaned her head back to see. “It’s always dark when we are here. The symmetries are all around us and we have never noticed.”

  “Good, you found it,” Suleiman said, sounding impatient. “We now know that you can identify it. Now hurry, we must eat!”

  Chapter 24

  It was a day among days: the sunlight was brilliant, a gentle breeze blew, and all seemed right in the world. Suleiman, full of mouse energy, took an interest in all their activities. Perhaps too much so, thought Ara, still miffed at the mouse's boldness. Zoriah had taken pity on them and, handing them a basket of food for their mid-day meal, shooed them out into the gardens.

  Celebrating their release from work, the girls walked through the gardens, floated leaves down the many streamlets and chased each other around the trees. A tiny reprieve from the strain of the past weeks.

  Ara found one more symmetry while dallying in the Garden of the Lindaraja and showed Layla the small row of green rosettes displaying both horizontal and vertical symmetries. Suleiman, after scanning the sky for hawks, sat down under a lacy fern surrounded by four almonds, three pomegranate seeds and a hefty piece of bread scavenged from the basket. As the day dwindled, Ara and Layla again felt the pressure of time. They packed up their belongings and their mouse and headed back to the palace.

  Fatima, Maryam, and Rabab were sitting in an enclosed garden embroidering when the girls walked by. Rabab, telling a story, held Fatima’s rapt attention.

  “I’m not one to gossip, but I know what I saw,” Rabab said. “The wazir was talking at the Palace Gate to a couple of Infidels, and a more disreputable couple of men I have never seen. One of them, standing behind the other, had something wrong with his legs, poor man. Looked like he had two clubfeet. The other man had a plumed hat and a scowl on his face you wouldn’t believe. I couldn’t understand a word they said, what with the two of them waving their hands in the air and shouting in that strange barbaric language of theirs. The wazir looked angry too. He kept looking back at the palace as if in disbelief. I know the sultan told us to be polite to those people, but no good can come from running around with the People of the Book.”

  After a quick look at the girls, Maryam moved awkwardly to the end of the bench. “Aunt,” she suggested, “let us speak of this another time.”

  But Rabab went on. “And that’s not all. One of my friends has a brother, who was told by a very reliable source that he heard the wazir talking to a wall. I think he must have been drinking wine. And you know what the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon Him, says about drinking. Well, she said that her brother’s friend saw him with his very own eyes. Abd al-Rahmid was standing in front of a wall and talking to it. As if he were having a conversation, you understand.”

  “Aunt Rabab, the girls,” Maryam attempted once again.

  Fatima, who had been spellbound up to now, leaned forward. “Well, normally, I wouldn’t mention a thing. Never say an unkind word, that’s my way, you know. But I have a friend whose servant said that the wazir has developed a peculiar dislike of lizards. He pays the gypsy children to bring him lizards. No, not special lizards,” she added at Rabab’s raised eyebrows. “Just lizards. And you know what he does with the lizards? He steps on them and crushes their heads. Did you ever hear the like?”

  Both women stopped in awe of each other’s tale. Maryam said, annoyance and frustration coloring her tone, “I saw the loveliest cinnamon and rose-colored silk produced here in Andalusia. I believe it’s even nicer than the foreign made silk. Aunt, don’t you think it would make a wonderful outfit for Layla? I was hoping that you would advise me on this. You have such a way with clothes.”

  Rabab blinked and gazed at her sister’s daughter’s child. “But lizards, why would anyone kill lizards?”

  Ara and Layla stood stock-still, afraid to move. Neither girl looked at the other, afraid they would give away their secret. Suleiman trembled in Ara’s sleeve.

  Maryam glanced at her daughter before saying firmly, “I think we should not concern ourselves in the affairs of the wazir. I’m sure there is a very reasonable explanation. Perhaps there is some misunderstanding. Someone must have misspoken.” Her face was tight. “Ladies, I must take my leave of you now. I will accompany the girls back into the palace. You will excuse me.” She stood and bowed before gathering her supplies. “Girls, may I join you?”

  Layla responded with a start. “Of course, Mother. It would give us great pleasure.”

  Together they walked toward the Court of the Myrtles, no one speaking until Maryam’s, “About the discussion you overheard. I would ask that you not repeat gossip. Fatima and Rabab are older and wise. I value their advice in many things. But,” she said with a sigh, “they are not
always as discreet as I would wish, and the walls have ears.” She sighed again.

  “Mother…I…” Layla started, “about the basket.”

  Ara almost tripped in her panic. “No,” she hissed as quietly as she could.

  “Yes, my daughter?” Maryam said.

  Layla looked at the ground in discomfort before stammering. “I...I…could I get a pet?”

  “Oh, yes, the basket,” Maryam said with a smile. “Well, what kind of animal do you want? Perhaps Rabab would let you have one of her parakeets if we were to ask.”

  “No, I don’t think I want a parakeet,” Layla looked down at the ground. “I was just thinking about Aunt Rabab, though. She’s a good person, isn’t she? And even though sometimes she doesn’t do everything quite right, we still love her, don’t we?”

  Maryam stopped in her tracks to look directly at her daughter. “Is there something wrong? Something you need to tell me?”

  “No, I mean, at least not yet. It’s kind of a surprise, and I can’t tell you for a few weeks. But you know that I would never do anything bad, don’t you?”

  Maryam considered the girls for a long time, plainly weighing her impressions of Layla’s guilt and Ara’s worry. “Girls, I trust you with my heart and my honor. My love is always there for you, no matter what. All I care about is that you are safe.”

  She thought for a moment. “Does it have to do with the basket?”

  Two heads nodded.

  “Does some dependable adult know about this secret?” Again the heads nodded.

  She relaxed slightly. “Then I can wait. When you are ready, I would love to know your surprise.”

  I don’t think so, thought Ara. She stared at the ground.