Fatamids

Medieval 6: K and Y 3 Helpful Decisions, part 2 of 2

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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.

Medieval 6: K and Y 1 Married Life, part 3 of 3

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Yasmina

After 914 A. D. The Hejaz and North Africa

Kairos 105 Yasmina, Princess of Mecca and Medina

Yasmina crawled into her chair at the table and faced al-Hakim. She moved her knight and said, “Check.”

“You are very good at this game. I don’t know why I play it with you.”

‘Because you don’t want to do other things.” she answered. “That is okay. I accept that, but you know we must spend one day and one night together each week or your parents and grandparents will start asking questions. I would not know what to say to your grandfather, the Caliph of all the Fatimid Empire.” she smiled at that description. “Questions would not work out well for either of us.”

Al-Hakim huffed and moved his king. He understood. “You would become a plaything for my brother, al-Mansur, and I would not like to see that happen.”

Yasmina smiled as she moved her queen and said “Check. You like me?”

Al-Hakim lifted his eyes from the game to look at her. “You know I do. You are a great sister, and as long as you are willing to accept me as your brother, even as you suggested in the beginning. Yes, as brother and sister rather than husband and wife, I have found real affection for you.”

Yasmina gushed. “I am glad. I’m not at all ready for a husband, but I always wanted a brother so I could beat him in games and tease him about his girlfriends, or boyfriends as the case may be.”

He moved his king again and frowned, touching her queen as he looked around the board trying to find a way out. “Just like a woman to back a man into a trap.”

“Be honest. We both got trapped, but you tried at first, so I am not a virgin,” Yasmina said seriously. “Still being a virgin would have raised far too many questions for both of us.” he nodded, and she finished her thought. “Did I tell you how good and brave it was of you to do that?”

“Many times,” he said. “I know my mother and grandmother checked. It might have been better, though, if you became pregnant.”

“No,” she protested. “You would have put me away and we never would have become friends, like brother and sister.”

He agreed with that. She was the first person in his life who cared for him for who he was and did not judge him or make him feel wrong and dirty. “I don’t know if I can do that again,” he admitted.

“Maybe someday when we are older, we can figure something out,” she touched his hand briefly as a sign of her own affection and he nodded to her, so she changed the subject. “So, how is Abdallah? I suppose after all this time he has adjusted to spending one night alone in the fac-tUry.” She deliberately mispronounced the word.

“Fac-tOry,” he said with some exasperation.

“Of course,” she responded. “I keep forgetting. You know, it might help if I knew what you were doing out there in secret-land. Maybe I could remember better.”

Al-Hakim stared at her while she put on her “Hi, I’m just a stupid little girl face.” It made him grin.

“Maybe someday,” he said.

Yasmina huffed like any girl at not getting what she wanted. She moved her other horse and said, “Checkmate.” He had to stare at the board for a minute before he shrugged, and she began to pick up the pieces to put them away.

Al-Hakim stood and stretched. “I have to go,” he said through his yawn and grabbed his cloak. “I have to check on things at the fac-tUry.”

Yasmina pouted. “Now, don’t start picking on me,” she said before she smiled and followed him to the door. He stepped out and stopped. She reached up and kissed his cheek while he reached down to squeeze her butt cheek. It was their routine in front of the guards and whatever women might be in the area. He marched off down the way. She kept smiling until she got her door closed. Then she shook her head and mumbled softly to herself, “Something wrong with that boy.”

“I agree,” Aisha said as she came in from her little room next door, having heard the soft mumble with her good elf ears.

“You look older,” Yasmina responded. “Al-Mansur bothering you again?”

Aisha nodded. “I have tried to make myself look appropriately old enough to be your long-time maid and guardian and old enough to keep the younger men from getting any ideas. It doesn’t work on al-Mansur.”

“He might like an older woman,” Yasmina teased.

“A young bull. He likes all women. He isn’t picky,” she responded.

Yasmina understood as she went to the table and finished picking up the game to put it away while Aisha straightened the bed cloths. Again, Yasmina changed the subject. “I would sure like to know what they are doing in what al-Hakim calls his factory. We see the metal brought in and I know they are smelting something. Also lumber and wagon loads of various raw materials that I can’t get close enough to identify. I have a bad feeling about it.”

“As do I,” Aisha agreed as there came a knock on the door.

“Come,” Yasmina raised her voice.

The imp wife Camela came in with a “Good morning.” She was well disguised as an old lady and was followed by three maids carrying trays which they set on the table before they left. When the door closed, Camela had something more to say. “Breakfast. I thought you might need a bite to eat after a strenuous night of doing nothing.”

Yasmina thought it looked like enough food for an army. “Not true,” she protested. “He cuddles in the night. If he had any interest at all, he would make a good husband. Certainly, better then Kare the jerk.”

************************

MONDAY

Kirstie and Kare argue. Kirstie is pregnant and Kare looks for the money Kirstie has hidden away. Then Kare goes one step too far and moves out. Until Monday, Happy Reading

*

Medieval 5: K and Y 20 Misdirection, part 2 of 3

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Yasmina

Yasmina shivered. The killing of Captain Ulf was not something she wanted to dwell on, but it was something she pictured over and over. She could not help it. She looked at the pirate captain and shivered some more.

It had been a hard journey. Yasmina thought once they got to sea, she might better understand why Kirstie enjoyed sailing so much. Instead, she got seasick and stayed queasy the whole trip. If any of the pirates had in mind to take advantage of her, her sickness dissuaded them.

When they went ashore, surrounded by pirates, Yasmina continued to feel like she was swaying for a short while. Aisha took her arm and that helped some. Yasmina could not help the comment on her companion’s appearance. “You look all motherly.”

“I feel like my cousin, Kirstie’s friend. Motherly, but ready to fight like a she bear to defend you and keep you safe.”

Al-Rahim nodded to the sentiment but said nothing. He said little on the trip aboard the pirate ship. He said little since he surrendered. He walked beside them or in front, but he looked like a tiger, declawed. His weapons were all missing. The pirates were excited about getting paid when they delivered the girl.

Yasmina looked around as they walked. It all looked like new construction. The dock looked brand new. The palace they came to looked unfinished. She saw workmen down the way arguing over the length of the timbers. “Where are we?” she finally asked.

“Mahdiya, the new capital of the Fatimids,” al-Rahim whispered. “You see the soldiers. They are young and still full of revolutionary fervor. You see the palace guards are well turned out. And… I am sorry. I managed to keep you out of the hands of the Isma’ili fanatic Qarmatians only to land you in the hands of the Isma’ili fanatic Fatimids.”

“No,” Yasmina said and reached out to touch al-Rahim’s arm. “The story is not over yet.” She had a different comment for Aisha. “We escaped the Wicked Witch of the East only to land in the hands of the Wicked Witch of the West.” Of course, Aisha did not understand what she was saying, but she could imagine. “I wonder if a bucket of water will melt them,” Yasmina added to herself, and then got lost in her thoughts while they were taken inside and told where to wait.

Several hours later, without having had so much as a snack, they were allowed into the audience chamber of the Caliph. Al-Mahdi, the old, gray-haired Fatimid Caliph sat on an ostentatious throne on a raised platform at the end of the room. Throughout history, the Kairos thought such raised platforms were normally so the king, or whoever, could see all the people in the room. In this case, Yasmina got the impression this platform was designed so all the people in the room could see the magnificent Caliph.

Yasmina thought it was good of Islam to ban idolatry and remove all the statues that used to be worshiped. The old way had gone. Unfortunately, most people had a hard time focusing their worship on an Allah-God who is presented as a nebulous, invisible, all-wise, all-powerful, out there spiritual something. Instead, most people tended to replace the stone statues with living people they can relate to. Christians worship Jesus, though with reason. Muslims are no less subject to this, and many tend to worship Mohammed whether they realize it or not. This Fatimid Caliph seemed to be saying the people should worship him, which is the worst sort of idolatry.

Al-Rahim and Aisha went to their knees, and Yasmina offered a bow before she stood there and studied the old man, even as he appeared to be studying her. She looked at the middle-aged man who sat lower on a much simpler chair near the Caliph’s right hand. She figured that must be the son and designated heir, al-Qa’im. There were men to the Caliph’s left, nearby. Advisors, no doubt. And two young men stood near al-Qa’im. Yasmina guessed they were al-Qa’im’s sons. She also noticed the movement behind the lattice work wall off to that same side. The women, Yasmina understood. She imagined the Mahdi’s wife and al-Qa’im’s wife were there to watch, and she wondered about the power dynamics in the harem. Then her attention got taken as al-Mahdi spoke.

“Jafar,” he said. “Have you succeeded?”

The pirate captain got up from his knees and answered. “Indeed, I have. May I present the daughter of the governor of Alexandria, Badroul.”

“She is not,” al-Rahim interrupted and stood. Yasmina noticed some shuffling around behind the lattice wall. Someone wanted a good look at the handsome older man. “Your captain grabbed the wrong girl.”

Al-Mahdi frowned at the pirate while the pirate jumped. “What? Who is she?”

“I am Mohammad al-Rahim, captain of the royal harem guard of Mecca. I serve the women, wives, and concubines of the Lord Sharif of Mecca, Medina, and the Hejaz. May I present Yasmina, the daughter and sole surviving heir of my lord, and by the blood of Ali, the rightful ruler of the holy cities and all of the Hejaz.” People gasped and whispered all around the room. Of course, there was a question whether or not a woman could own and rule any land, but al-Rahim presented her that way and figured the legal questions would come later. He raised his voice to continue over the murmuring crowd.

“When the heretic Qarmatians came into the city under the pretense of being peaceful pilgrims, by her father’s command, I spirited the princess away from Mecca and after a year of travel, we came at last to Alexandria where we might have stayed for a time and rested while we made plans to retake the homeland and liberate the holy cities. Unfortunately, your bungling pirates came in search of the governor’s daughter and kidnapped the wrong girl.”

The pirate captain fell to his knees and trembled, “Please…” he began to beg, but the Caliph waved off his concern and al-Rahim finished his story.

“Thinking further on our situation, I believe it is fortuitus, one may say by the hand of Allah we have come to stand before the great Caliph of the Fatimid. I believe you may grant us sanctuary and may even support our efforts to liberate the holy cities of Mecca and Medina, and above all, protect us against the Qarmatians who have followed the princess every step of the way, even threatening the governor of Egypt to turn her over or they planned to come and fetch her.”

“May I ask,” al-Qa’im interrupted, but looked at his father as if needing permission to speak. Al-Mahdi made no objection. “May I ask why the Qarmatians should be anxious to come and get the princess?” Al-Mahdi frowned at his son, like the answer should be obvious.

“Indeed,” al-Rahim said. “Tahir al-Jannabi wished to marry her to one of his sons so he might have a legitimate claim on the holy cities and the land of the Hejaz.”

Al-Mahdi paused to stroke his beard, like something interesting occurred to him. Al Qa’im looked at his father as the old man spoke. “Child. Do not be afraid. We are like family. You are descended from Ali as we look to his wife Fatimah, daughter of the prophet. It has been many generations since that time. Our relation is now distant, but we are family all the same.” The Caliph sat up a little straighter. “Child, you should not be afraid to show your face to family. Come, lower your veil.”

Excuses, excuses, Yasmina thought. The Caliph just wants to see what goods he is getting before he makes a pronouncement. She lowered her veil and looked at the old man, the son, and the two grandsons, thinking, the advisors are not family.

The Mahdi nodded when he saw her face, like he expected to find a beauty beneath the veil. Al-Qa’im smiled at what he saw. One young man appeared to like what he saw well enough. The other young man showed signs of lust on his face. Yasmina heard more shuffling behind the Lattice wall but only Aisha with her elf ears could hear what the women were saying.

“She is very pretty, and she looks kind.”

“I think she will make a fine wife for al-Hakim.”

“Mother! The Caliph has not even invited her to stay, and you are already marrying him to my son?”

“Of course, that will depend on the figure beneath the robe, but if her face is any indication, I say she will work out well. As for the Caliph, there are ways of convincing my husband to do the right thing. Trust me, I have an idea of what he is thinking. It may not take much convincing.”

“Sadly, I don’t think it will matter. My son does not seem to be interested in girls.”

“Al-Mansur looks interested. We will have to watch that.”

“Al-Mansur is interested in all the girls. He is of the age where he can hardly contain himself.”

“Yes. I had hoped some of him would rub off on al-Hakim.”

“Sadly, no.”

“Too bad that fine looking captain is not a man.”

“Mother!”

The Mahdi spoke. “Let the captain be housed with the harem guards. Let the princess keep her maid, and give her the finest rooms, and feed them, they must be hungry and tired after their long trip. Kahlid, see that they receive proper instruction in the faith.” He waved them off and they got escorted out of the room. Yasmina never did find out what happened to the pirates.

Medieval 5: K and Y 16 Going Again, part 4 of 4

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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.

Avalon 8.7 Escaping, part 4 of 6

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Once in the village, the travelers were told where to set their tents, but then they were mostly left alone.  Alexis and Nanette bought some of that fruit while Boston and Decker worked on getting the bones out of the fish.

“I don’t see any option,” Lincoln said, picking up where they left off in their conversation the night before.  “When we get to Al Baretoun, we will have to contract a ship to take us away from the coast and the Berbers.  We can have them drop us as close as possible to the next time gate and hopefully move on before more soldiers find us.”

“No,” Boston protested.  “I am not leaving this time zone without seeing Yasmina.  I have hugged and loved every lifetime of the Kairos, and I am not leaving this place without my hug.”

Alexis looked at Katie and Lockhart, and the rest of the crew as she spoke.  “We don’t know how to do that without giving her away.”

Lockhart nodded in response to the look and repeated what they figured out.  “These Berbers are hoping we will lead them to Yasmina.”

Katie spoke in her most reassuring voice.  “You want the Kairos to stay safe.  If we find her and reveal her, these Berbers will try to kill her, or at least arrest her and maybe torture her.”

“They will probably turn on us at that point as well,” Decker added.

“They have to have figured out who we are,” Tony agreed with Decker.  He repeated the feelings Katie picked up with her elect senses and Nanette confirmed with her magical senses.  Boston, as a sensitive elf, felt the same thing but she would not admit it for fear they would make her go around, as Lincoln suggested, and thus miss seeing Yasmina.

Boston pulled out her amulet to see.  She failed to tell the others that Yasmina was just over a day away, and still moving toward them.  If Yasmina did not find a ship in Al Baretoun to take her away, maybe to Byzantium, that is, if she stuck to the coastal road, they would run into her sometime in the early afternoon.  Of course, if she sailed off to Constantinople, there was no telling where the time gates might end up.  It might take them several months to get to the next time gate

“I don’t want to think about that,” Boston said, out loud.

“What?” Sukki asked.

“I am getting my hug,” she insisted.  “We just need to figure out how to do that.”

Sukki turned to the others.  “I agree with my sister,” she said, to offer her support.

“Me, too,” Nanette added, and Boston grinned at Alexis, Lincoln, Katie, and Lockhart.

“I never had sisters before,” Boston said.  “But mine are the best, ever.”

Decker shrugged for the others.  “We can think about it.  We still have time before we reach the port city.”

Lockhart shrugged with his eyebrows.  “We will see what we can come up with.”

“Hold,” Elder Stow interrupted. He stared at his scanner, and shortly, the head Berber and three of his men came to the traveler’s fire.

“We have a long day tomorrow,” the man said.  “You would be best to sleep while you can.”

Lockhart said, “Standard watch tonight.”

“That should not be necessary,” the man said.  “I will leave my men to watch.”

Lockhart looked at the man.  “You are a soldier.”  It was the first time anyone said that outright.  The man did not deny the accusation.  “We stick to the routine and keep in practice.  You and your men will not always be there to guard the camp.”

The man could only grunt.  “Get some sleep,” he said, and walked off, leaving his three men to stand around and listen to whatever the travelers might talk about.

Katie had to make some effort but pulled up the Norwegian they spoke in the last time zone.  “We could talk in this way,” she said.  Lockhart shook his head.

“Headache,” he said, and did not explain if doing that would give people a headache or he already had one.  “Tony and Nanette are up first.”  He took Katie’s hand to go to their tent.  Decker also went to his tent, but Nanette looked reluctant to let him leave.  Decker actually looked reluctant to leave her, which was an idea the other travelers were still trying to get used to.

###

Around lunchtime on the following day, the travelers and Berbers came across some ruins they did not expect.  An Ape warship, like the one they saw in Norway, had either crashed, or got shot down in that place.  It rested off the road and was partially covered by sand, so it was not easily seen from the road.  Elder Stow picked up the wreck on his scanner.

The travelers decided they needed to explore the wreck, especially when they saw a second ship, one they assumed was a Flesh Eater ship not far away.  The Flesh Eater ship looked like the back end of the ship exploded and scattered pieces all over the area.

“We must stick to the road,” the head Berber said, but the travelers insisted, so there was little the head man could do other than accompany them.  The travelers figured he was reluctant to reveal that he knew who the travelers were and feared if he arrested them and forced them to continue on the road, they might refuse to lead him to Yasmina.

“Definitely an Ape ship,” Lincoln said when they got close.

“I am picking up one Ape still inside,” Elder Stow said as they all dismounted by the door to the ship, which looked busted open.

Lockhart only glanced at the head Berber before he spoke.  “Elder Stow.  You and Boston need to go invisible and go inside to check it out.”

“I still have Father’s invisible disc,” Sukki said.  “I can join them.”

Lockhart nodded and glanced once again at the Berber who decided to speak.  “I will send three men with you.”  The man looked back where forty of his men waited patiently on the ridgetop.  He brought a dozen with him.

“Can they go invisible?” Lockhart asked.  Elder Stow and Sukki vanished, and after a second, Boston vanished as well.

“We will check out the other ship,” Katie suggested, and again Lockhart nodded, but only because the other ship looked to be destroyed.  It suggested there were not likely any survivors.

“We claim any weapons that are found,” the head man said abruptly.  “Better if you can get this ship to fly again.  The Caliph al-Qa’im would be very pleased with this gift.”

“So, you know who we are,” Tony said, and the head Berber acknowledged that fact.

“And you will take us to Yasmina, and we will have you all.”  He drew his sword.  His men followed his example.  He pointed at the rifle Decker carried, but Decker spoke sense.

“Better let us keep our weapons until we see if there are Flesh Eaters who survived the crash.  I doubt you want to face the Flesh Eaters with only a sharp knife.”

The head man paused a second before he nodded and said, “You lead the way.”

At the same time, inside the ship, it did not take long for Elder Stow to pinpoint the location of the Ape.  He sat in the command center central chair and looked at the screen in front of him.  Elder Stow, Sukki and Boston came into the room, invisible.  Boston finally figured out how to make what she called a window so Elder Stow and Sukki could see her while she remained invisible to the rest of the universe.  She got their attention and told them to stay and keep quiet.  Then she removed her glamour of humanity, saw Sukki’s eyebrows appropriately rise, and she spoke.

“Why are you here?  You do not belong here.”

The Ape pulled a handgun and pointed it at the sound, but Boston had moved.  “Show yourself,” the Ape insisted.

“When you put down your gun.  Do not be afraid.  I mean you no harm.”

The Ape put his gun down surprisingly quickly, and Boston appeared in full elf glory.  “The question remains.  Why are you here?  You don’t belong here.”

“I have already been told by one of your kind,” the Ape said.  “One like you, but small and with wings.  And a bunch of others with wings.  They flew all around and I asked them not to touch anything.  I have barely enough power for the scanner and long-range communication as it is.”

Boston smiled.  “My name is Boston.”

“Captain Argh,” the Ape said.  “My surviving crew got picked up, but I stayed.  There is at least one Eater remaining.  I have seen him, but I haven’t been able to end him.  He blasted the hull, and I got a piece in my leg.  I will find him and end him, then as long as my power source holds out, I will call and be picked up.”

“Lockhart.  My father,” Elder Stow’s voice rang out in the room.  “There is at least one Flesh Eater alive in the area.  Be warned.  Yellow alert.”  The echo in the voice cut off, and Elder Stow spoke more softly.  “Captain Argh.”  Elder Stow became visible to a very startled Ape.  “We may be able to help you with your power problem.”

“Gott-Druk,” the Ape recognized him right away, and Sukki, who put on her glamour to look like a Gott-Druk.  The captain bowed his head slightly as a sign of respect for the elder race.