The Lioness of Morocco

by Julia Drosten

  “Emily, we shouldn’t do anything we might regret.”

  “What do you mean, regret? Malika has told me that it’s very beautiful.”

  She looked confused and hurt and that hurt him. He so wanted to make love to her, enter her body, melt into her soul. But, in the house of the qaid of Mogador, there was a young girl, his bride. He had never seen her, but it had been decided long ago that she would become his wife. That is what both sets of parents had determined when the little girl was born and he was a boy of twelve.

  “We first have to be married to do what we both would like to do,” he said to assuage Emily.

  “Then let us get married!” She looked at him, her eyes large and full of anticipation like those of a child receiving a present.

  But Sabri stayed silent, afraid to speak the truth and hurt this woman he loved.

  She sat up and hugged her knees. “You want to marry me but cannot because your parents have already chosen a bride for you, is that it?”

  “You know about that?” He was flabbergasted.

  She nodded. “Thomas told me when he noticed that I liked you. He warned me to forget my feelings for you.”

  Sabri pulled Emily into his arms, rested his chin on her head, and caressed her curls. “I love you, Emily, and it is my greatest wish to spend my life with you. But it will not be easy. Your reputation and that of my bride are at stake. Her family will be insulted if I break the engagement and my parents will be shamed. We will have to pay a high price for our happiness. Are you willing to do that?”

  She lifted her head and looked at him defiantly. “Your religion permits polygamy.”

  “You mean you would—” He was utterly taken by surprise.

  “Of course, I insist on being your chief wife!”

  “No, Emily, no,” countered Sabri once he had recovered from the shock. “I love you and only you. I want to share my future with you.”

  “Emily? Where are you?” They heard Sibylla’s voice approaching.

  Emily felt as though she were being torn out of a beautiful dream. She reluctantly freed herself from Sabri’s arms. “I have to go. Wait a little bit until I’ve distracted my mother. Then you can sneak away.” She stood up and shook the hay out of her skirt.

  “Wait!” Sabri held her back. “I want you to know one thing: I will find a solution.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him. “We will find a solution.”

  Chapter Thirty

  When Sibylla stepped into the stable, Emily was standing in the milking area with a bowl full of fresh goat’s milk in each hand. “Hello, Mother. Have you come to help me carry these?”

  “Well, I’ve really come to discuss something with you.” Sibylla took two more bowls and followed her daughter into the courtyard. Emily’s hips swayed provocatively from right to left in front of her and her long curls bobbed up and down.

  My little girl has become a woman. A beautiful, desirable woman, thought Sibylla, half in awe, half in shock. Then she spotted the straw. “How did you get that in your hair?” She placed the milk bowls in the cooling basin, plucked a piece of straw out of Emily’s hair, and held it up.

  “My goodness, Mother, you get dirty whenever you work in a stable!” Emily took the piece and threw it on the ground. “What did you want to speak to me about?”

  Sibylla frowned. “You have to pack. We’re riding back to Mogador in the morning.”

  “Excuse me?” Emily indignantly placed her hands on her hips. “Father is not even well yet!”

  “And that’s why I have promised your father that I would take care of something for him in Mogador.”

  “How nice,” Emily countered stubbornly. “I’m staying here.”

  “It’s really not necessary to be a burden to your father and Aynur any longer. They have enough on their hands in the aftermath of this terrible assault.”

  Emily glowered at her mother.

  At that moment, Sabri peeked around the stable door. Seeing Emily and her mother, he was about to retreat when someone shouted, “Hakim bin Abdul!” André Jr. was leaning out of one of the living-quarter windows and gesticulating wildly.

  Sabri froze. Emily bit her lips. Sibylla turned around, and her eyes grew wide.

  “You must come! Hakim Hopkins needs to speak with you!” André Jr. continued to shout.

  Sabri squared his shoulders, nodded to Sibylla, and walked toward the house in as dignified a fashion as he could.

  “I’m beginning to see why you insist on staying here,” Sibylla observed. “Yet another reason for you to ride home with me as soon as possible.”

  Emily was angry. “The only reason you want to leave is because you cannot bear that Aynur is Father’s wife. You must have done something to make him choose her over you!” Shocked by her own words, Emily stopped abruptly. She had often had disputes with her mother, but had never been insolent before.

  Sibylla was thunderstruck. For the first time in her life, she had the desire to spank Emily. Why did her daughter have to provoke her so? Thomas and John were not nearly so headstrong. She took a deep breath and struggled to regain her composure. She looked at her daughter, who was standing before her with a contrite look. What would Lalla Jasira have done in this situation? Would she have forgiven Emily for her outburst? Sibylla swallowed hard. “I treated you like a child, Emily. That was wrong.” She swallowed. “Do you forgive me?”

  “Won’t you please forgive me?” Emily rushed into her arms with tears in her eyes.

  Sibylla stroked her daughter’s back. “The main reason I want you to accompany me is that this estate is not a safe place as long as those criminals are still about.”

  Emily snuggled up to her. “If that is so, Mother, then we will ride back to Mogador tomorrow.”

  There was a cool wind blowing down from the Atlas when Frédéric warily opened the gates the following morning. Christian led the horses out of the stable. They flared their nostrils and sidled about in an enterprising way. Emily looked up at the crystal-clear blue sky, which made the snow-covered peaks of the high mountains look close enough to touch, and blinked away a few tears. Parting with her other family after this remarkable year was difficult.

  “When will you come back?” whined André Jr., who did not want to leave Emily’s side.

  “Soon.” She stroked his hair. “I’ll return to help you with the next saffron harvest.”

  Aynur had stayed in the house. Thomas had ordered absolute bed rest for her. Malika, who did not wish to leave her mother’s side, was also absent. Emily fingered the soft leather of the jacket Malika had given her as a farewell present. It was colorfully embroidered and lined with lambskin, and would keep her warm during the long ride. “So that you won’t forget me, Sister,” she had said.

  “Promise you’ll come and visit me in Mogador soon,” Emily had replied.

  “For your wedding with the hakim at the latest. You remember what I read in your palm: if you two stay strong . . .” She had embraced Emily one more time and returned to her mother’s room.

  “May I help you into the saddle?” Frédéric stood next to Emily’s horse. He leaned forward and held out his intertwined fingers. She stepped on them with her left foot, placed her hands on the saddle, and before she knew it, he had lifted her up.

  “You’re strong!” She sat upright.

  He grinned mischievously and helped her put her boots into the stirrups. “Too bad you’re my sister. I would like to have had someone like you for a bride.”

  André waved him over. “Frédéric, will you please fetch the saffron from the tower?”

  He ran off and returned a short while later with four firmly closed linen sacks that he placed gingerly on the ground next to the pack mule. Two wooden boxes, padded with a woolen blanket to prevent pressure sores, had been attached with leather straps on both sides of the animal’s back. Frédéric loaded the sacks in the boxes. When he was finished, André closed the tops and checked that the straps were secure.

  “T
hank you again for protecting my saffron. If I weren’t still so dizzy, I would ride myself.”

  “I’ll take your red gold safely to Mogador. After all, we have the protection of the qaid’s soldiers.” She looked over at the six armed riders who had already mounted their horses and were waiting by the gate.

  Leaning heavily on his cane. André went over to the captain. “I place in your hands not only the lives of these two women, Captain, but also the yield of an entire year of hard work,” he said solemnly.

  “The women and the saffron will be as safe with me as at their mothers’ bosoms,” the man assured him and patted the butt of his rifle. “Are we ready to leave?”

  “We are.” André returned to Sibylla. “It was so good to have you here, even if only for a short time.” Fighting to conceal his emotions, he looked down and checked that the saddle girth on her horse was tight enough.

  For a fraction of a second, her hand grazed his shoulder. “The estate is beautiful. The last time I was here, it was a ruin. You and Aynur have done much with it.”

  “Qasr el Bahia was to be your home,” he could not prevent himself from whispering. “You know that was my wish.”

  Sibylla smoothed her riding gloves. “Yes, André, I know. But life decided differently. When Aynur is well again, I want your whole family to come and visit me in Mogador. You are all cordially invited.”

  Sibylla had taken her leave of André’s wife and thanked her for her hospitality. But she was not sure whether Aynur had even been aware. Thomas had had her moved to the quietest room on the estate, as far from the noise of the yard as possible, because she had a high fever and was in severe pain. Thomas had confided to his mother that the wound refused to heal and he was gravely concerned. For all her own heartache, Sibylla sincerely hoped that Aynur, who had taken in her daughter so graciously, would soon be well again.

  Thomas and Sabri were also in the courtyard to say good-bye. She beckoned her son. “Will you kiss your mother good-bye and help her into the saddle?”

  “Well, now!” André called out at that moment. “What have we here?”

  Sibylla and Thomas turned around and watched as Emily, leaning down from her horse, kissed Sabri on the mouth for all to see.

  “Well, I’ll be damned!” Thomas mumbled.

  André turned to Sibylla. “Did you know about this?”

  Her answer was a helpless shrug.

  “And when,” he grumbled, “had you planned to tell me?”

  “I didn’t know! I just suspected,” she said.

  “Women!” André snorted. “Always with their secrets!” He squeezed his cane and marched over to Emily.

  Sibylla looked on with concern. “Thomas, did Dr. bin Abdul declare his intentions vis-à-vis Emily to you?”

  “I think that’s something he had better discuss with you and Monsieur Rouston. And I really must go check on my patient. Good-bye, Mother.” Thomas helped Sibylla into her saddle and hurried away before she could ask any more questions.

  Emily and her father said a tearful good-bye. André gave her horse a pat and followed the little group as far as the gate. He could no longer see the riders, but listened to their voices, the hoofbeats of their horses on the coarse gravel that rolled away down the hill. Then all was quiet.

  Suddenly, he felt very much alone. He missed not only his daughter but also Sibylla. He remembered the elation when he had awoken from his unconsciousness and seen her sitting on the edge of his bed. For a few disorienting seconds, he had forgotten Aynur altogether. But Sibylla was right. They could not turn back time. He would continue to live on Qasr el Bahia with Aynur and their children and sometimes with Emily too, while Sibylla stayed in Mogador—his business partner, the mother of his daughter, the woman whose love he had lost.

  When he turned around, the courtyard was almost empty. Only Sabri bin Abdul was still there, a forlorn expression on his young face. “Dr. bin Abdul, do you have a moment?”

  “Of course, Monsieur Rouston.”

  André came straight to the point. “My daughter likes you, Doctor.”

  Sabri’s eyes lit up. “I like her too. No, what I mean is, I love her.”

  “So you are serious about this love?”

  “I am, Monsieur Rouston.”

  “And your family?”

  Sabri did not hesitate for one second to give his answer. “It will not be easy to convince them, but I will find a solution. Emily is the woman I wish to marry.”

  André smiled with satisfaction. He liked the fact that this young man did not resort to excuses or subterfuge. “If Emily wants you—and that is certainly how it looked just a moment ago—you have my blessing.” He patted Sabri’s shoulder. “However, you may still have to persuade Emily’s mother.”

  “I—” Sabri started to say.

  “Father! Hakim bin Abdul!” Malika came running across the courtyard toward them. “You must come right away! Imma is worse. She’s acting as though the Prince of Darkness has taken hold of her!”

  “So you’ve fallen in love with Dr. bin Abdul,” Sibylla stated firmly and handed her daughter a piece of flatbread.

  Emily smiled broadly as soon as she heard his name. “Yes, Mother. And he loves me.” She heaped some fresh goat cheese on her bread and took a hearty bite.

  The small group of riders had made it halfway and was taking a break by the Oued Igrounzar. Its stony banks were strewn with the lifeless bodies of locusts that had died in the river swollen with winter rain. When the soldiers led the horses to the river to water them, the animals stood up to their fetlocks in dead insects. Sibylla and Emily shuddered at the sight, especially when the wind made the loricate bodies rustle and pop. They had seen only a few live locusts on their ride. The plague had disappeared at the same speed with which it had arrived.

  Emily and Sibylla were sitting comfortably on a blanket, enjoying the warmth of the midday sun, and eating a meal consisting of flatbread, goat cheese, olives, and dried dates.

  Sibylla threw a few bread crumbs to a foraging sparrow while she searched for the right words. “It is a beautiful thing when two people have found each other. But I want you to be certain of one thing, Emily. Even if the two of you are sure of your feelings for each other, many people will be against you.”

  “Including you, Mother?” Emily looked at her seriously.

  Sibylla did not know whether to be annoyed or to laugh. With three little words, Emily had succeeded in cornering her. She found herself having to take a stand even though she had not even formed an opinion yet.

  “Of course not!” she said emphatically. “Still, I am concerned. I don’t doubt Dr. bin Abdul’s intentions, but have you given any thought to the fact that you won’t be marrying just him but his entire family? And this family has chosen another bride for their son. It is well known in Mogador. Could you accept his family’s rejection?”

  “You don’t know that they will reject me!” Emily shot back.

  Sibylla took a few dried dates from the napkin spread out between them and offered some to Emily. “Try some, they’re delicious.” She went on in a conciliatory tone, “I have met Sabri’s father several times at the governor’s palace. Haji Abdul bin Ibrahim keeps his distance from the infidels in this country. As the principal of the madrassa and a man who has completed the great pilgrimage to Mecca, he is especially bound. Furthermore, the qaid’s daughter is an excellent choice. Her family is the most distinguished in the city, and—”

  “Stop it, Mother!” Emily held her ears. “Stop ruining my happiness!”

  “But, Emily!” Sibylla was dismayed as she took Emily’s arm. “That’s not what I ever wish to do.”

  “Yes, Mother, it is. You are trying to take away the man I love. But you won’t succeed!”

  “I’m merely trying to make you understand that there is more to marriage than love. One’s origin—”

  “And that’s why you married Benjamin Hopkins and saved your love for an affair with Father, is that it?”

 
; “That was uncalled for.” To conceal how much her daughter’s words had stung, Sibylla concentrated on the food.

  Emily’s eyes welled up. Just a moment ago, she had been so happy and so much in love, but now doubts were creeping in. Did she and Sabri really have a chance, or were they deluding themselves?

  “Sabri loves me!” she blurted desperately. “He doesn’t want the qaid’s daughter, he wants me. Why won’t you help us to be happy, Mother? You could talk to his family.”

  “Happiness is a funny thing,” Sibylla mused quietly and thought of André. “One day you’re certain that you can never again be happy without that one man, and the next you find out that fate had other plans for you.”

  “Please, Mother!” Emily pleaded again.

  The captain approached them. “Can we go on, Mrs. Hopkins?”

  “In a moment.” Sibylla waved impatiently and the man withdrew.

  Emily packed the leftovers in a sack. While Sibylla folded the blanket, she thought hard about how to convince her daughter that she would do her best.

  “Once Dr. bin Abdul is back in Mogador,” she began, “I am going to invite him over and talk to him about everything. If he can convince me that he will take good care of you and not break your heart, I shall do everything in my power.”

  “Thank you, Mummy!” Emily kissed her mother.

  “In the meantime, you might go to London first, pursue your studies, and see something of the world,” Sibylla could not stop herself from suggesting. And even though she could see how Emily’s expression darkened, she added hopefully, “Distance can give one a little perspective.”

  “You can try, Mother, but you are not going to drive Sabri and me apart.” Emily turned around and stomped to her horse.

  “Sabri, please hold the candle closer.”

  Thomas leaned over Aynur and examined the wound on her arm as well as he could in the flickering light. It was a bright day outside, but he had closed the shutters.

  “What’s going on here? Why is it so dark? Why is she not getting any fresh air?” André panted.