Yasmina

“So, why did the Sharif let us go?” Aisha asked.

“I believe he had no choice.” al-Rahim answered. “He let us keep our weapons, which the Qarmatians did not expect. That saved our lives. He was probably threatened into turning us over to them, while at the same time, he figured if word got back to the Caliph that he was cooperating with the Qarmatians, he would probably lose his position and possibly his head.”

Yasmina interrupted. “This way, he can honestly tell the Qarmatians he gave us to their representatives, and we escaped because the Qarmatians were incompetent. At the same time, he can tell the Caliph that we are safe and sound and not in Qarmatian hands.”

“We suffered some injuries,” Aisha said.

“We don’t count,” al-Rahim told her. “Certainly, her guards Harun and al-Asad don’t count. Only Yasmina matters. They want her to marry one of al-Jannabi’s sons in order to have a legitimate claim on the holy cities that they already destroyed.”

“I don’t want to go back to a destroyed city,” Yasmina protested.

“Don’t worry,” al-Rahim said. “We are going down into Egypt.”

They traveled through Aqaba and crossed over to Suez where they picked up a caravan headed for Fustat. The merchants were kind to the young lady, her maid, and the three men hired to protect her on her journey. The merchants assumed that was the case, and they never told the merchants otherwise.

At this time, Yasmina began to come out of the protective bubble she had lived in her whole life. She began to talk to her guards Harun and al-Asad as individuals rather than appendages of al-Rahim. She watched the cooks as they prepared the meals. She learned a thing or two about cooking and even accepted one of the cooks as something like a friend. She learned how to saddle her own horse and generally began to show an interest in things other than herself.

“Are you feeling all right?” Aisha asked one day.

“I’m trying to grow up if that is what you mean,” she answered. “I have no home, nothing to go back to. My parents are gone. I could easily live in self-pity, crying all the time and feeling sorry for myself, or I can learn to be an adult and make a good life for myself. I dream about Kirstie. When she lost her parents, granted, she had a hag to worry about, but she did not give up. She had her house rebuilt, got some animals for her farm, got some laborers to keep the farm, and sailed off on adventures. She is so capable and confident. I am nothing but a spoiled little child.” Yasmina lifted her pendant which she wore all the time. She rubbed the amber in the middle and let a few tears fall.

Months later, Yasmina and Aisha came down the hall whispering to one another. Yasmina said, “He has been very kind to us to let us hide among his women.”

“The governor is older, and so are his women. You are young and fresh, and I think he is conflicted about what to do with you.”

“Why should he do anything with me?” Yasmina asked, and Aisha looked at her like she went stupid.

“You are young and quite beautiful. I see the smile on his face every time he looks at you, even if you don’t see it.”

“I assumed he was just a jolly old man.”

“Seriously? And you think seventeen is all grown up?”

“What?” Yasmina asked.

Aisha huffed in a very Yasmina way. “He would marry you, but he does not know what the Caliph may be thinking concerning you.” She stopped Yasmina in the doorway to the hall of the governor and tried to explain. “He is facing the Fatimids in the west where their leader, al-Mahdi, claims to be the true Caliph. The Fatimids have twice invaded Egypt and been beaten back. The Emir needs the support of the Abbasid Caliph in Baghdad for him to be able to hold the line against the Fatimids. He may have written to Baghdad suggesting he marry you to reclaim the holy cities, but his resources are limited to retake the holy cities as long as the Fatimids are pressuring him from the west.”

“What about the Qarmatians? They are east of Egypt,” Yasmina asked.

“Exactly,” Aisha said, then she explained a bit more. “The governor knows he cannot fight a war on both sides of Egypt. He needs the Caliph to fight the Qarmatians so he can stay focused on the Fatimids. The princess of Mecca and Medina, the sole surviving heir, is a delicate problem. The governor does not dare do anything that might anger the Caliph, if you follow what I am saying.”

“Oh,” Yasmina said, and turned to the door with another whisper. “You think I am beautiful?”

“You are every man’s dream of a true Arabian princess.”

“Thanks,” Yasmina said too loud though her smile. She had a second thought and frowned. “Makes me feel all Disney.”

Al-Rahim was already in the audience chamber, down on his knees before the throne. Harun and al-Asad knelt behind him. Aisha went straight to her knees. She sat on her feet, placed her hands in her lap, and looked at the floor. Yasmina remained standing, but she did bow before she spoke.

“My lord governor wished to see me?”

The governor, Takin al-Khazari looked at her and sighed. Given what Aisha just said, Yasmina imagined he might have preferred to see her without her veil and naked. He sighed again before he began to speak.

“Yes, my dear. We have a problem. You see, I am surrounded by enemies. In the west, the Fatimids have twice invaded the land, and though we drove them back, they are becoming stronger. South, the Aksumite empire, and other Christian kingdoms have limited our ability to move freely up and down the Nile and they have disrupted trade in the Red Sea and beyond. In the north, the Romans continue to resist the true faith, and they have a powerful navy and an army to contend with. And now, in the east, the Qarmatians are in the Hejaz and eyeing the riches of Egypt. You, my dear, pose a problem. I have written to the Caliph. I sent three separate letters with the hope that one might get through. That was months ago, and I have heard nothing in return.”

“Nothing?” Yasmina asked.

The governor shook his head. “Not nothing. I know that at least one of my letters was intercepted by the Qarmatians. They have sent emissaries. They have demanded to have you. I am to turn you over to them, or they say they will come and get you.”

“What can we do?” Yasmina asked, worried. “Those Isma’ili fanatics intend only evil. They are the Satan. They steal, kill, and destroy.”

“Do not worry, child,” the governor said. “I have no intention of giving you to them.” He waved to the side, but unlike the last time, instead of a half-dozen Qarmatians, one black man, probably a sheik, stood there smiling. He waved as the Emir spoke. “Mubarak is an Egyptian merchant whose caravan is ready to set out. I know only that he has contacts in the south, in Palestine, and in Alexandria and several cities on the north coast. I have not asked where he is going. I have written several letters to various cities, local lords, sheiks, and sharifs that answer to me, so wherever you end up, you should be treated well. But this way, when the Qarmatians ask where you have gone, I can honestly answer that I do not know. I can tell them you heard that they were asking about you, which you have now heard, and you left with a caravan headed for an unknown destination.”

The governor held out the letters and al-Rahim got up to accept them. Aisha also stood and took Yasmina’s arm. Yasmina said, “Thank you,” to the governor before she turned on al-Rahim. “What about our things?” They began to walk toward Mubarak who bowed to the governor before he turned to lead them.

“Come on boys,” Aisha said to the guards who came behind them.

“Your things are already packed, and the horses saddled with the bags full. We took care if it while you were walking the garden.

“But I need to go back and look,” Yasmina complained. “What if you missed something or forgot something?”

Aisha tightened her grip on Yasmina’s arm ready to drag her if necessary.