Taghri's Prize

by Peter Grant

  “I thank your Excellency. I shall be here at sundown.”

  “Then you may leave this audience, with our renewed thanks.”

  He bowed, backed away respectfully from the dais for ten paces, then turned and walked towards the doors through which he’d entered. Behind him, he heard the herald proclaim, “Let the merchant Amjad step forward!”

  He returned to the anteroom, retrieved his sword belt, and informed the major-domo that he would be back that evening. As he and his guard trotted down the steps, he said, “Wanat, I need information about the raids on trading caravans in this province – who’s behind them, where they come from, how they dispose of their loot, and anything else of interest. The sergeant-major said you had contacts in the Thieves Guild. How much might they know?”

  “If I can find the right people to ask, sir, they should know something. With some of your silver to loosen tongues, I’ll do my best.”

  “You’ll have to work fast. I need as much information as you can get me by mid-afternoon.”

  Wanat whistled softly. “In that case, sir, I’ll ask you to excuse me as soon as we reach the inn; and I’d like to borrow Ferrer as well, because he knows people on the waterfront who might know something. We’ll ask around. We’ll have something for you today, but if you’ll give us a few more days to ask questions, we might learn a lot more.”

  “Very well. Do your best. I’ll use Fado as my guard for the rest of the day.”

  Fado rolled his eyes as they came to the gate in the wall around the Temple of Kokat. “Sir, may I wait out here? I don’t like to go into that place.”

  “Neither do I,” Taghri admitted, “but it seems I have no choice. Very well, wait here.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Fado went over to the wall, and squatted in the cool shade.

  Taghri crossed the courtyard and climbed the steps leading to the entrance. Just inside, two acolytes in ankle-length dark green habits waited to assist visitors and worshippers. One stepped forward. “May I help you?”

  He handed her the scroll written by Kahin Raza. “Would you please take this to one of your priestesses? It’s from a priest of Hobal, and explains why I’m here.”

  She frowned, but took the scroll. “I shall ask within.”

  He waited almost ten minutes, standing to one side of the door to allow worshippers to enter and leave. There was a steady stream of them, almost all women, he noted. At last the acolyte returned with an older woman, streaks of gray showing in the wisps of hair that escaped her veil.

  “You are Ra'id Taghri?”

  “I am, lady.” He bowed politely.

  “We have heard of your recent heroics. I am Sister Hiba. Come with me. The Prioress must see what you have brought.”

  She led him to a visiting room, furnished with a number of benches and chairs padded with cushions. An elderly woman was waiting there, leaning on a walking-stick. In her hand she held a scroll, which he recognized as the one given to him by Raza.

  “This is Ra'id Taghri, Mother.”

  “Ah, yes. You have something for us, young man?”

  “I do, ma’am.” He bowed, then took the cloth-wrapped knife from his sash and offered it to her. She accepted and unwrapped it, and exclaimed in shock.

  “The Kahin was right! I could not believe it when I read his scroll, but this is certainly a sacrificial knife sacred to the goddess! Where and how did you find it?”

  He described yet again his capture of Sidi Reis’ galley, and the locked chest in the captain’s cabin that had so startled him. “That made me aware that this was no ordinary knife, so I took it to the Temple of Hobal, to whom I’ve pledged my service as a soldier. I asked Kahin Raza for help in identifying the knife. He said it was yours, and that I should bring it to you.”

  “But how could Sidi Reis have come by it? Sister Hiba, summon the seer. She will help us solve this mystery.”

  “At once, Mother.”

  As the sister hurried out, the prioress gestured to a chair. “Sit down, young man. You tower over me like a mountain over a valley! My old, tired neck is too stiff to look up at you all day.” There was a glimmer of humor in her voice, and Taghri found himself smiling as he sat down. “There is a sense of unease in you. Is it because you fear our mother goddess?”

  “I don’t fear her, no, but she makes me feel… uneasy. After all, I’m a soldier. We’re used to orderly, logical things, without much in the way of chaos and disorder, on which Kokat is said to thrive.”

  She cocked her head to one side. “Don’t be too sure that she has no part of you, soldier. After all, what is a battlefield but chaos and disorder? Is it not a truism of your calling that no plan of battle survives the arrival of the enemy, because he has a say in what happens next?”

  Taghri laughed aloud. “You’re right, ma’am. I hadn’t thought about it like that, but yes, battles are chaotic, a lot of the time. Of course, they occupy only a small part of a soldier’s life. The rest of the time, we strive to maintain good order and discipline.”

  It was her turn to laugh. “But the chaotic times more than make up for the rest, don’t they?”

  “I fear you’re right.”

  “I think I am – and you see? You’re more relaxed already. I think you’ll find that your god, Hobal, and our goddess, Kokat, have more in common than you may have realized.”

  He was spared having to reply by the sound of slow, shuffling footsteps approaching the door. Sister Hiba reappeared, supporting a very old woman on her arm. The new arrival wore the habit of the Order of Kokat, but a broad white bandage covered her eyes.

  “This is our seer, Sister Alray,” the prioress introduced her. “The eyes of her body may be blind, but the eyes of her spirit see with great intensity.” She explained to the seer about the knife that had so unexpectedly arrived. “Can you learn how it fell into the hands of this pirate, sister?”

  “Let me sit down, then place it in my hands, dear mother.”

  Alray took the knife in her trembling, arthritic hands, and let out a sudden cry of dismay. She sat for a moment, mouth hanging open, then moaned, a sad, sorrowful sound. “Mother, this was sent twenty-two years ago by the Temple of Kokat in Hunay, along with a contingent of our sisters, to found a new Temple at Alarad, in the principality of Oyan.” Her voice sounded reedy, distant, and she craned her neck as if trying to peer over an obstacle. “Their ship was taken by Abu Reis and his pirates. He… he dishonored our sisters, then killed them, and stole the Temple goods they had brought with them. He sensed that this knife was somehow special, although I think he did not know exactly what it was, or he would never have dared to touch it! He took it as a good luck charm, and carried it with him on his pirating voyages from then onward.

  “Later, when his fleet had grown and he did not always sail with them, he moved it to his palace. He would touch it and seek its blessing, and make his sons and captains do the same, before every raiding trip. They trusted it to keep their settlement secure while they were absent on raiding voyages. It had been kept in the palace for almost five years before Sidi Reis decided to defy his father, and embark on his own raiding voyage. He remembered Abu Reis’ boasts about the luck the knife had always brought him, and decided to take it with him to enjoy its protection.”

  Taghri couldn’t help a snort of amusement. “It brought him death, not protection!”

  The prioress nodded. “Our goddess will not be mocked. Sooner or later, she brings down all those who set themselves up against her. In this case, you were her instrument of revenge.”

  “In this case, I’m honored to have been of service to her. The world is a better place without Sidi Reis in it.”

  The seer interjected, “Yes, and it will be even better with his father and brothers removed as well. Our goddess is not finished with you, young man. There is yet work for you to do. Fear not. Your service will be well rewarded. The goddess says to you, ‘Look for the raven out of place. You will see it three times. Each time you do, follow, and you will f
ind what you seek.’ This is her word to you.”

  “This is her word to you!” The prioress and the sister echoed the seer’s words, joining their hands prayerfully over their chests. The prioress added, “You look surprised, my son. Do not fear. The goddess favors you because of the service you have done her, and chooses you to do more for her. You will not suffer for it, believe me. She rewards well those who serve her well.”

  “I… I don’t pretend to understand, mother prioress, but as a loyal servant of Hobal, I’ll do my best to aid his sister goddess.”

  “Well said!” Sister Hiba exclaimed.

  “Indeed,” the prioress confirmed, rising to her feet. “We thank you for bringing this knife back to us. We shall consider how it should be cleansed of the evil that befell it, and re-dedicated to the service of our goddess.”

  “Thank you, mother.”

  Taghri left the temple with his head in a whirl. As if he didn’t have enough to do already, he now had to watch out for the intervention of an angry goddess, who wanted to use him against those she saw as her enemies. “It’s never just one thing,” he muttered aloud as he walked through the gates, fuming. “More and more and more things arrive, and gang up on you. Why can’t life be simpler?”

  Fado fell into place beside him. “Did you say something, sir?”

  “Just talking to myself, Fado. Don’t worry about it.”

  The guard looked puzzled, but contented himself with a short, “Yes, sir.”

  “All right, let’s get over to Tawfic’s emporium. I have to buy more clothes for tonight.”

  4

  Hamid Bousaid proved to be a genial host. He abandoned formality in the privacy of his family apartments. His wife, Khayriyya, joined them before supper, along with their three youngest children and Princess Gulbahar. The ladies were lightly veiled, as was customary.

  The youngsters were awestruck at being in the presence of the man who had rescued the Princess and killed her kidnapper. Their questions were initially shy and awkward, but grew bolder as they relaxed in the visitor’s presence. Taghri tried to delicately gloss over the details of how he’d cut in half the head of one of the raiders, only to be dumbfounded by the children’s nonchalance.

  “Oh, don’t worry about upsetting us,” the oldest daughter, Malaika, informed him airily. “Father’s already impaled his head over the Felon’s Gate outside the city wall, along with his comrades, as a warning to others.”

  The older boy, Rajab, giggled. “Yes. It wouldn’t stay in one piece on the spike, thanks to the way you cut it. They had to put a skewer through it, side to side through both ears, then tie a cord around it over the head, to hold everything together.”

  The youngest son, Salim, nodded enthusiastically. “He looks as if he’s been shish-kabobbed!”

  Taghri was reduced to spluttering coughs as he tried to think up a suitable response. Hamid merely smiled indulgently, while Khayriyya tried unsuccessfully to look scandalized as she rebuked Salim for his impudence.

  The Princess laughed aloud. Clearly, she had no qualms at all about seeing her kidnappers and captors treated in a way she found entirely commensurate with their crimes. “Our host generously gave me the head of Sidi Reis, whom you shot,” she informed Taghri. “He’s had it pickled in a glass jar. I thought my father would like to see proof that he doesn’t have to avenge me. You’ve already done that on his behalf, for which my grateful thanks.”

  “It was my pleasure, your highness,” he assured her, bowing from atop the cushions on which he sat. “I presume your father will display it somewhere suitable?”

  “I’m sure he will. He’ll probably try to add the heads of the rest of the Reis family to the display as well. He’s a man who knows how to hold a grudge.”

  “In this case, I can’t blame him at all.”

  “Thank you, too, for your very great generosity,” Gulbahar added with a bow of her own. “Your gift will allow me to replace some of my wardrobe, which was stolen by the raiders and sold at Quwain shortly before you rescued us. I’ll also use it to take passage back to Kalba in due course, and buy gifts for my parents and sisters.”

  “You have no brothers, your highness?”

  “No. My parents have five daughters, but no sons.”

  “So, as the oldest, you’ll take your father’s place on the throne of Kalba when the time comes?”

  Her mouth twisted wryly. “Not necessarily. Females may inherit the throne and administer the kingdom, but their husbands wield military authority. If I’m unmarried when the throne falls vacant, I’ll have a year in which to find a husband. If I don’t, my father’s oldest married daughter will take the throne in my stead, and her husband will rule alongside her.”

  “And if he’s unsuited for that role?”

  “He’ll have to learn, and speedily.” Her mouth twisted again. “However, there’s another complication. There are those in Kalba who think that one of my younger sisters might prove a more malleable ruler than I. They may try to spread gossip that I was… dishonored… by Sidi Reis. If their lies are believed, they may disqualify me from inheriting the throne.”

  Taghri said at once, speaking slowly, emphasizing every word, “Princess, I am at your service. If anyone dares to suggest you were in any way dishonored, please call on me. I’ll defend your honor in trial by combat against all who dare dispute it. This I pledge upon my name and by my blade.”

  Her eyes glittered with moisture beneath the veil as she half-bowed to him, holding the pose for a long moment. “I have no words to adequately thank you, Ra'id Taghri. Your reputation for courage and gallantry is well deserved. I hope I shan’t need your assistance, but if I do, I’ll accept your generous offer.”

  Hamid coughed lightly, and diplomatically changed the subject. “At my wife’s suggestion, I’ve invited the Princess to be my family’s guest here at the palace for the remainder of the summer and early autumn. Midsummer is the height of raiding season. We’d fear for her safety if she sailed home at this time. If Abu Reis learned of her journey, he’d move mountains to intercept and capture her, to avenge the death of his youngest son. I’ve written to her father to inform him of this. I’ve sent copies of the message by land and by sea, in the hope that at least one will reach him speedily, and reassure him that his daughter is alive and well.”

  Taghri’s ears pricked up at the news. He knew that was probably not the only reason for Gulbahar’s extended stay, but the less said about that, the better.

  The ladies and children left them before the meal, which was well-cooked, but simple. “I prefer not to eat heavily if there’s work to be done,” Hamid explained. “Since we’re going to discuss the security of the city and the province, I thought a lighter meal would help us concentrate better.”

  Taghri sipped his glass of sherbet, savoring the cool fruity draught as it flowed down his throat. “I can’t disagree, your excellency.”

  “You seem to have impressed the Princess very much. She was asking all sorts of questions about you, your background, your military service, and your awards. I don’t know all the details, of course, but some of the men of my garrison served in the same campaigns as you did, and they’ve had a lot to say since word of the caravan attack reached us. I’m sure she’s heard their tales.”

  Taghri flushed. “I’m grateful for her interest, your excellency.”

  Hamid nodded. “Remember, though, she’s a princess, and of a foreign city-state at that, while you’re a commoner – an uncommonly capable commoner, certainly, but not of noble birth. She should not become too friendly with you, or you with her. That would certainly be understandable, but it might produce… complications… for all concerned.”

  “I understand, your excellency. I’ll try to limit my contact with her.”

  “That would probably be best. However, she’s a strong-willed young lady. She may have her own ideas about that.” He hesitated, then sighed deeply. “Man to man, and never to be spoken of again, she puts a brave face upon her c
aptivity, but I suppose you realize that she probably was dishonored, despite her protestations? I think part of my wife suggesting, and her agreeing, to remain here for a few months is to ensure that there are no… consequences from that. If such consequences do occur, she can stay some months longer due to ‘illness’, in seclusion, and one of the palace servants will bear a child a few months from now, if you follow me.”

  Taghri nodded. “Let’s hope and pray that won’t be necessary, your excellency. If she’d been dishonored, I know someone in her position would never dare to admit it, so I’ll support her innocence in any way she needs, including trial by combat if necessary.”

  “I’m sure the Sultan will approve of your support for her when I tell him about it.”

  After the meal, Hamid led the way to his office in the administrative section of the palace. Taghri noted the presence of several servants, cleaning up after the day’s activities, as well as a number of clerks working late, and the usual guards at intervals in the corridors.

  “What are your thoughts about our security problem?” Hamid asked as he led the way into his office, and motioned to a chair. He walked around behind his jet-black ebony desk, its surface inlaid with a complex pattern in ivory and lapis lazuli. The other furniture – a sideboard, a map table, and several chairs – matched its colors and texture, offset by a light marble floor and deep red window drapes.

  “Ah… your excellency, I couldn’t help but notice how many people are still here. Are you absolutely confident of their loyalty? If there’s any doubt whatsoever, I’d be grateful if you would please order them out of earshot, and station guards to keep them and everyone else away.”

  The Governor’s eyebrows shot up. “You think our foes have eyes and ears within these walls?”

  “If I were in their shoes, your excellency, I’d consider myself remiss if I didn’t.”