Yasmina

Al-Rahim found an out of the way farm in Petra that he could rent for some work in the fields. As he explained to the princess, “It just would not be safe staying in territory that was controlled by your father.” Yasmina said she understood.

Al-Rahim bought a few older slaves for the bulk of the work and hoped to come out about even by the end of their time there, however long that might be. Two men worked in the fields, and the guards helped. One old woman took responsibility to cook and clean for the house. Aisha planted a garden and helped keep the house as well. Al-Rahim spent much of his time cultivating spies among the old Nabataeans and Ghassanids that populated the province. He did not want events to catch him by surprise.

They all told the princess that she did not have to do anything, but Yasmina got bored very quickly. She helped Aisha in the garden and did not kill all the plants. She learned something about cooking, cleaning, and even learned to sew, though she was not very good at any of it. At least she rode about every other day, and Aisha and one of the guards always rode with her. She also practiced her swordplay and her archery skills when she was not riding, so both she and her horse got plenty of exercise. Mostly it was something to do.

After some months, when the Caliph appointed Sharif of the territory heard about the strangers in the old lingering town of Petra, they were called to an audience to give account for themselves. Al-Rahim made them pack everything like they might permanently leave that place. “I hope we will be able to return here, but we cannot count on that,” he said.

“Maybe the Sharif will provide a better living arrangement,” Aisha suggested.

Yasmina thought, Maybe the Sharif will throw us in jail, but she did not say that out loud.

On the way, al-Rahim explained.

“Petra used to be a great city, a trade center for the whole region.”

“Honestly?” Yasmina asked.

“That was maybe five or six hundred years ago.”

“It looks like it fell apart five hundred years ago,” Aisha said.

“Our house looks like it was built six hundred years ago,” Yasmina agreed.

“The fall apart happened slowly over the years,” al-Rahim continued. “Palmyra in the Syrian desert eventually took over the land trade from the east. Caravans met in Palmyra as the only safe way across the Syrian desert to go to the coastal cities like Antioch or in Lebanon. Meanwhile, trade from Arabia, the Hejaz, the coasts of India and Africa began to come up the red sea, to Aqaba, if they were headed into Palestine or the port of Gaza, or to Suez if they were headed into Egypt or to Egyptian ports. Petra slowly died to the point where it is hardly a town, and one struggling at that.”

“Why did you bring us here?” Yasmina asked, honestly curious.

“I thought we could hide and not be disturbed. No one cares these days what goes on in Petra. People are leaving here, not coming here.”

“But now you are not so sure,” Aisha suggested.

Al-Rahim shook his head. “I did not expect the Sharif to notice, much less summon us to an audience.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Aisha said.

“As do I,” al-Rahim agreed.

“Me too,” Yasmina said, and they both looked at her wondering when she began to pay that much attention to anything. But then, Aisha knew the Kairos had resources even al-Rahim would not believe.

Al-Rahim spoke when they arrived for the audience. He gave his name, Muhammad al-Rahim and so on. Yasmina really did not listen until he introduced her as the Princess of Mecca and Medina and Aisha as her maid servant.

The old Sharif looked at them carefully before he spoke. “I understand why you came here. The Qarmatians sacked Mecca and Medina even as they despoiled Syria and Mesopotamia some years ago. They are mad men, fanatics. But they will not come here. We are too strong for them.”

“As you say. We must wait until the Caliph can raise enough men and arms to retake the Holy Cities. Then we can return home, but not before.”

“I heard they took the black stone from Mecca.”

“No…” Yasmina could not believe it. “My father would never let them despoil the holy relics.”

The Sharif looked sympathetically at Yasmina, but al-Rahim waved off whatever the Sharif was about to say. The Sharif said instead, “Child. You have nothing to fear. You will be married and have plenty of wonderful children, I am sure.” The Sharif waved and several men came from behind a curtain. “It is a small price to pay for peace in this territory.”

“Qarmatians,” al-Rahim yelled. He and his guards all drew their swords, but two of the six men already went down from Aisha’s arrows. Al-Rahim and his guards made quick work of three more Qarmatians who were not prepared for any real resistance, like maybe they expected the Sharif to disarm his guests before holding audience. The last man grabbed at Yasmina, but she called defender which appeared in her hand, and she stabbed the man in the arm. Then she called for her armor. as the angry man tried to hit her. He hit chain mail and probably broke his hand, though he knocked Yasmina to the floor. Aisha stabbed that man in the back and Yasmina called for Defender. The long knife vacated the man’s arm and flew back to her hand.

One guard had a cut in his hand. The other had a cut in his thigh. Al-Rahim and Aisha were untouched. Yasmina only had a sore butt. She landed hard. Al-Rahim spoke to the Sharif. “You did your job. Too bad the Qarmatians sent such incompetent men.” Al-Rahim gave slight bow and turned them all to the door. The Sharif played with his beard. He said nothing. His own guards around the room did not move and did not try to stop them. They ran to their horses which were still in the courtyard. They rode off into the west. No telling what the Sharif told the Qarmatians, or if he would remain Sharif for long.

“A bit slow on calling to your armor,” Aisha pointed out.

“Don’t rub it in,” Yasmina said and rubbed her hurting behind. She took that moment to get a great idea. She traded places with Greta, the wise woman and healer from Dacia.

Aisha asked with her eyes.

Al-Rahim, who noticed everything, and also happened to be glancing back in case of pursuit saw the blonde hair and said, “Kirstie?” He did not blink or raise his voice or anything, like he already figured something like this was inevitable.

‘Greta.” she gave her name. “I know how to ride, and I am a healer. When we stop, I have a couple of guardsmen to look at. Besides, Yasmina hurt her butt.”

“Greta,” Al-Rahim said. “Even more complicated than I thought.” Greta and Aisha both nodded but said nothing as they all concentrated on getting out of town.

It was not until after they stopped, and Greta fixed up the wounded as well as she could, that Yasmina came back and added everything up in her mind. She got teary eyed and looked at al-Rahim. “My mother and father are dead?” she asked, but it was said like a statement.

“I’m sorry Princess,” al-Rahim responded softly. Then he hugged her and let her cry.

Kirstie

Jarl was not happy with Kirstie, to say the least. He had some good silver, so the crew had no complaints on that score, but they grieved heavily for the loss of their friends. Kirstie and Yrsa were right there grieving with them, and while she was at it, Kirstie cried for Yasmina and the loss of her parents.

“Now she is an orphan like me,” Kirstie said, and Yrsa cried with her.

As close as Jarl and Kirstie came to an understanding after that was just before they docked in Bremerhaven.

“What?” Kirstie asked. “You knew going after a hag would be dangerous. I am as upset as you are. They were my friends too.”

“I think I became too obsessed with the amber and the ivory and getting rich.”

“In the end, they are only commodities like anything else we carry, and they are only worth what someone is willing to pay for them. Sir Waldo, and Bremerhaven have farm tools and only offer a bit of silver. Honestly, the farm tools are worth much more than some walrus tusks and tree resin.”

Jarl sighed and mostly nodded.

Captain Otto hugged Kirstie. Sir Waldo also hugged her and said, “I believe Lady Kristina is determined to make me rich.”

Tulip, the fairy queen who appeared in her big size said, “Rich is nice, but better is living a life worth living.”

Tulip and Sir Waldo hit it off and Tulip asked if Kirstie would mind if she visited the man from time to time.”

Kirstie just hugged her and told her to follow her heart.

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MONDAY

Kirstie need to pay attention to her home but soon enough she will need to sail to Northumbria to confront Abraxas himself. Until next week, Happy Reading

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