Yasmina

“It has been three years and the mothers are beginning to ask serious questions,” Yasmina admitted. She whispered to Aisha because they were approaching the area where the women went to watch what was happening in the court. Yasmina knew al-Hakim’s mother and grandmother would be there and hear everything.

“They know al-Hakim has no interest in girls. Maybe they will blame him.”

Yasmina shook her head. “If I don’t get pregnant soon, I will be out, and they will find al-Hakim a new wife.”

“I will think on it,” Aisha said, and then quieted as they came to the lattice wall and offered a bow to the Mahdi’s wife and al-Qa’im’s wife. The delegation from Alexandria was expected. Yasmina wondered if there might be fireworks, though gunpowder had not yet been invented.

Yasmina watched the men troop in. She did not look closely. Her eyes were focused instead on the old man’s face. She saw the frown form there and knew he would not be inclined to be gracious to his guests.

Aisha nudged her and pointed to the delegation from Alexandria. Yasmina caught sight of the leader of the delegation as the man bowed and made a nice little speech. He was the chief rival of Suffar, the governor of Alexandria’s evil Vizir. She guessed Suffar found a way to make the man leave town, maybe permanently. A delegation from Alexandria to the Fatimids had to be dangerous. No telling how the Isma’ili fanatics might treat those they consider heretics to the true faith. She imagined they might be kinder to Christians and Jews as complete outsiders to the faith.

Yasmina thought of the governor’s daughter, Badroul, that Suffar wanted to marry his son. She had to be seventeen by then, or near enough. Old enough to marry, but when Badroul was fourteen, she was madly in love with Ala al-Din, or as she called him, Aladdin, the guy with the lamp and the genie. She was just wondering if the girl was holding out against Suffar’s son when she caught sight of al-Din himself, shuffling at the back of the crowd.

“Apparently being a rich young man is not enough to keep you out of trouble when the governor gets an idea in his head,” Aisha whispered, directing her voice to Yasmina’s ears alone. Unfortunately, Yasmina did not have that same talent, so she had to swallow her response, or when Suffar puts the idea into the governor’s head.

“Child,” the Mahdi’s wife got her attention and was never kind to her. “Do you recognize any of these Alexandrians?”

Yasmina nodded. “Yes Grandmother. The speaker is one of the governor’s chief advisors. It must be a serious proposition they have in mind.”

“Yasmina,” al-Hakim’s mother was always nice. “You should not worry about such things at your age. You should be thinking of having a family.”

Yasmina lowered her head and played her part well. “Yes Mother. I think of it all the time, but al-Hakim is not very cooperative. It must be me.” She sighed to add just the right touch, hopefully without overdoing it.

Al-Qa’im’s wife gently stroked the back of Yasmina’s hair and cooed. Al-Mahdi’s wife clicked her tongue in disgust and said, “No, child. It isn’t you.”

When the delegation from Alexandria left the room, Yasmina and Aisha excused themselves and left. Yasmina spoke when they were alone again. “We have to find out what al-Hakim is doing and soon.”

“What are you thinking?” Aisha asked.

“I’m thinking I need to leave this place if I want to live. Kirstie has a three-year-old, but I will never have a baby with al-Hakim, and time is running out.”

“I spoke with your loyal retainer al-Rahim just yesterday. He got himself assigned to the stables with just that in mind.”

“Good,” Yasmina said, before she added. “I would like to have a son.”

“But first you need a husband,” Aisha countered.

“I don’t know. Kirstie has managed pretty well, though technically I suppose Kare counts.” She shook her head and changed her mind. “She needs to divorce him,” she said, without explaining.

Kirstie

Soren turned three in 903 when Kirstie finally admitted there was nothing she could do. Kare was determined have his cake and eat it too, which was a terrible cliché, but to the point. He expected her to be the good and submissive wife who let him dally in any direction he wanted. But that was not Kirstie, and he knew it. Things came to a head when she caught him trying to take some of her grain and carded wool. She had set it aside to go to market, and he, with three of his crew got caught with their hands full. He swore he needed it for his trading expedition, and he would bring her the proceeds. She said he already owed her thirty pieces of silver, so she did not trust him. He hit Soren. She prepared herself to kill him right then and there, but he and his crew members ran off while she made sure Soren was all right.

Kirstie cried for most of the rest of the day. Inga and Buttercup came in the afternoon and Inga was willing to wait until Kirstie got ready to talk about it, but Buttercup did not have the patience. She pressed the issue.

“I tried,” Kirstie said. “I really tried, but Kare is just impossible.” Kirstie felt like a failure, and though she knew that was not true she still felt that way. Some consolation was Yasmina urging her to divorce the jerk.

“You make me all weepy,” Buttercup said. “You need to be happy, soon. I think you will have happy soon.” Buttercup said through her own tears. Inga and Kirstie looked at each other like they had no idea what Buttercup might be talking about, but both knew not to question too closely the little prophetic-type utterances the little ones sometimes said. Often, they stretched the limits of what could be called coincidence. In this case, though, Kirstie and Inga understood there was no point in questioning Buttercup about what she meant because the fairy would have simply said, “I have no idea. I don’t know why I said that.” Assuming she even remembered saying that.

“I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout birthing babies.” Kirstie mumbled to herself. “We need to go,” she said and picked up her three-year-old, heavy as he was, and put him in her backpack. She had her adrenalin pumping when she started toward town. She called to Yrsa and Alm, and they caught up. She stopped briefly at the place of the Witcher Women. She found Mother Vrya waiting for her. When they all got to town, they found Captain Rune and Captain Harrold in the big house discussing the situation concerning Nidaros, where Strindlos seemed to be bleeding people. Rune was saying he and his crew would probably move there soon enough. Harrold said he would stay with Kerga because some of his men lived up by the Varnes River and saw no need to move from their good land.

“I want a divorce,” Kirstie said, without any preliminaries, interrupting everyone.

Mother Vrya nodded. Kerga and Harrold did not look surprised. Rune asked what happened.

It took about ten minutes to explain about catching Kare and his crew members trying to steal her goods for market. Kirstie yelled that her farm and the properties she bought and the produce from all of it was hers, not her husband’s, and he had no claim on her possessions. And besides that, he owed her thirty pieces of silver for selling her thralls without her permission.

“He hit me once, and he will never do that again. If he does, I will kill him. Only fair to let you know in advance. But now, he hit my son. I tried my best to be a good wife to him, but he is unfaithful, a thief, and a greedy useless excuse for a human being. God willing, he will sail off and never come back.”

“He has done the sailing off part,” Harrold said and showed a small smile. Harrold was responsible for the marriage. He clearly wanted to get even for her defense of Lindisfarne and seemed happy she suffered so much because of it.

Kirstie took a breath and apologized for interrupting their meeting. She repeated herself in a calmer voice. “I want a divorce.”

“No problem,” Chief Kerga responded to her apology. “We were not speaking of important things. We were just waiting.”

 “There is a new sail on the horizon,” Rune said. “And Jarl appears to be escorting the ship.”

“We must go see,” Mother Vrya said.