“Sir, please forgive me, I did not know what I was doing,” she murmured with a glint in her eyes. She did not sound in the least repentant to Abbas, whose own happiness was growing in her presence, and he was having difficulty hiding his amusement at this display.
“My dear lady, please do not feel the need. It is clear that you are pleased that I have asked your father for your hand in marriage, which he has granted, and for that I, too, am very happy.”
“My lord, Allah has been kind to me this day. I have waited so long for this moment,” she exclaimed.
Decorum forbade him to kiss her, but the urge was hard to restrain, and he doubted that he could have controlled himself if her father had not been standing with them, beaming with his own happiness.
“Then, that is settled, children: although it is highly irregular to propose with my daughter standing nearby, I do give my blessings to you both, and we must ensure a wedding is arranged quickly.”
Thus it was that Abbas married Khalidah, amid great rejoicing among both clans. A somewhat bemused Abbas found himself with a new wife, who was young but also very intelligent and had her own mind. Before long he grew to love her without reservation, and every moment was a torment while he was away. After spending some time in Alexandria at his palace, he took her to his estates down in the region of the Fayoum, not far from the west bank of the Nile, where his family had ruled for two hundred years.
Before they left, he heard that Bahir al Hakeem had thrown a massive tantrum at the news and had sworn to avenge himself upon them both. Abbas had smiled at the news.
He had told his new wife, before taking her to his palace, about his daughter and her lonely life in Alexandria. What he had not anticipated was the almost immediate closeness of the two when they did meet. He assumed it was some woman thing, but all the same, it was a great comfort to know that they liked each other so quickly. One night, after they had made love, he asked Khalidah how she had managed to win his daughter over so quickly, as only recently she had been a distant child with little to communicate to him on his infrequent visits.
Khalidah had turned in his arms and said, “You men. You think you know everything. Well…we women know exactly what we need to do and say with one another. Your daughter needs a friend who is a woman. I am going to be her friend and sister, not try to be the mother that she does not want.”
He had smiled at that and kissed her lightly, then went to sleep holding her close, content that his wife was not only beautiful, but wise as well.
May my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth
If I, girl, forget your sigh
The day you whispered to me
“Hold me, and put your hand on my thigh.”
— Todros Abulafia
Chapter 8
Homecoming
Abbas took the same ship to Al Qahirah as General Turan Shah. Panhsj accompanied him, and Abbas told him to keep an eye open for trouble. His enemy Bahir was embarked on the same boat, with his own small retinue of men. Abbas knew that he was greatly outnumbered, but at the same time he was under the protection of the general, and he hoped there would not be any overt foul play. All the same, he stayed alert for danger, and he was comforted in the knowledge that Panhsj was doing the same.
During the northward journey the general kept them entertained with conversation and pleasantries. They discussed the battle and the deeds of warriors, and Abbas came up for mention several times, as his small but well-trained cavalry had acquitted themselves very well.
Abbas spent some time with Kemosiri, of a similar grade and position as himself, who seemed to be pleased to talk. They would lean over the side of the boat away from the other officers and men and discuss the recent battle and speculate on the chances of another war with the Frans, whom they believed to be the main threat to Egypt at this time. Somehow, however, despite their familiarity and seeming common agreement on much about the world they lived in, Abbas felt the man to be distant. Kemosiri was from one of the oldest Egyptian families in the country, claiming descent as far back as the Byzantium times. He lacked for nothing in terms of riches, palaces and ships, but no one seemed to be close to him.
As evening came, the winds died down to a light breeze, leaving the boat to be drawn down river by the current. The lamps were lit, food was laid out by servants, and the men feasted and indulged themselves with wine and women. Before too long every corner of the boat was occupied with the satisfied grunts of men taking the harlots who had accompanied the army southward before the battle.
Those who were disinclined to take a woman gambled with dice in a game known as al-zahr, meaning ‘chance’. The air was filled with oaths, and the click of dice and the jingle of coins or other trinkets were to be heard falling on the mat for the betting, as the men played to applause followed by groans as they won or lost.
Abbas saw no reason to get involved with any of the women or the gambling, although some of the women were very pretty. His thoughts were focused on his wife Khalidah, and his longing to be with her only increased as the distance between them shortened. He spent long hours in the bow of the ship watching the distant western shoreline of the river.
The general liked to have beautiful things, especially women, around him; and while he observed the laws on drinking, he had few concerns about fornication or smoking hashish, which wafted over the boat from dawn to dusk.
It puzzled Abbas that Bahir acted with a smug attitude about something that he felt concerned him. His dislike and mistrust cautioned him to keep his distance and to watch his back. He caught Bahir watching him on occasion, with a satisfied smile on his face, but there was little he could do to find out why. The boat was not so large that it was easy to avoid Bahir, who was his declared enemy. Instead he took himself and Panhsj off to the front of the boat and wished they were already at his estates.
It was on one of these dark nights, with the boats slipping quietly downstream, the revelry done for the night, the general comfortably retired in his rear cabin, and most men asleep on the deck to take advantage of the cool breeze that came off the river, when trouble finally came. Abbas was fast asleep when he felt an urgent nudge in his ribs and awoke in the instant. His servant would never have done this unless it was of the utmost importance. Panhsj put his head very close to him and whispered.
“Awake, my lord, there are those who look as though they are seeking us; they come as shadows and possible killers.” He turned his head away to stare down the length of the boat towards the rear.
Abbas drew his knife and rolled slowly over so that he could watch where Panhsj was indicating. His head was just level with his servant’s chest so he could look over without showing too much of his face. They were under the curve of the side of the boat, so they were if anything in deeper shadow than many of the sleeping bodies lying around on the deck.
“We shall let them come very close, and then fight with knives,” he whispered.
Then he saw them. There were two, and they were definitely looking for something, but it was also clear that they knew roughly where he was; because although they moved cautiously, they came inexorably towards him and his servant.
Abbas drew his feet under him and prepared to leap, and he felt Panhsj do the same, but they did it so unobtrusively that their attackers did not seem to notice. Apart from the slip of bare feet on the deck, the dark shadows crept up to them in silence, and when they were leaning over them one pointed down at the seemingly asleep Abbas. There was a slither of steel leaving a sheath, and then both men poised themselves to strike.
Abbas did not wait further. With a hiss he leapt to his feet and reached for the wrist of the man leaning directly over him, gripping it in a vice-like hold. The man grunted with surprise but then his other hand went for Abbas’s throat. Alongside him Abbas could feel rather than hear the other struggle going on as Panhsj fought his opponent. The only sound in this dark corner was the slapping of feet on the wood deck and the rasp of heavy breathing.
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p; Abbas could feel the grip of his opponent tightening on his throat and the consequent lack of breath, and he allowed the man to believe that he was succeeding in his attempt to strangle him. Then his knife came out and plunged deep into the man’s exposed stomach. The dark form gave an audible gasp, but Abbas drove the blade deeper, released his opponent’s wrist, slapped his hand over his adversary’s open mouth, and drove the curved blade deeper still.
The man was about to scream, but Abbas gave a mighty heave and sent him overboard. There was a cracking sound and another splash as the second attacker followed his companion into the water, but he did not cry out either; his neck had been broken.
There was a shout from the rear of the boat as men woke up to the noise and shouted demands to know what was going on. Abbas quickly lay down with Panhsj, and they both pretended to also wake up from the disturbance.
“In Allah’s name, who is making all this noise?” someone exclaimed irritably.
“Has anyone fallen overboard?” another enquired.
“I heard a splash but no cry, so maybe it was something someone threw overboard,” someone else yawned.
Abbas placed his hand on Panhsj’s thick muscular arm.
“Thank you, my friend. I shall not forget this,” he whispered, and then they pretended to go back to sleep.
The boat continued on its course and the people who had been awakened went back to sleep, grumbling and muttering to themselves at being disturbed.
Abbas’s mind was racing. He was sure he knew who had sent those killers, but he would not know without directly confronting Bahir. But what proof did he have? The attackers were now crocodile meat.
In the morning he received his answer when he saw Bahir’s expression. At first there had been genuine surprise on the man’s face, followed by the glitter of hatred in his enemy’s eyes as he turned away.
It was clear to Abbas that his suspicions had been correct, and he resolved the day would come when he would make Bahir regret the previous night’s attempt on his life. Now was not the time, however, to bring accusations, nor to allow the enmity to flare up in front of the general. Like his brother the Sultan Salah Ed Din, General Turan Shah disliked disunity among his senior commanders and often punished those who infringed the rule. Abbas decided that he would bide his time. Sooner or later Bahir would make a mistake, and he would capitalize on it.
As they sailed by the small river port of Beneade and the road which would have taken them to his home in the oasis Fayoum, he longed to jump off the ship and swim to shore and ride to the gates of his house. But as a commander he was expected to first appear before the sultan, make obeisance, and even join in the victory celebrations.
They arrived later that day at the citadel of Al Qahirah amid much rejoicing. The air was filled with the deep booming of kettle drums, accompanied by the ear-piercing shriek of reed horns. It seemed as though the entire population turned out to welcome and honor the victorious general. The sultan was there in all his finery, although Abbas knew that Salah Ed Din did not care very much for pomp and ceremony. This occasion demanded that he performed the honors and heap praise upon his brother and his army.
General Turan Shah gave a lengthy speech to the seated sultan. He stayed on one knee all the while in front of him, amid the silks and other booty that had been placed before his brother.He brought forward officers who had performed well on the battle field, and he was not short on praise for Abbas. After the welcoming ceremony was over, the sultan turned and beckoned Abbas over.
“I am told that you performed great deeds upon the battle field, my Prince. Allah be praised, we had a great victory,” Salah Ed Din said by way of welcome, after Abbas had prostrated himself in front of him and then been permitted to stand.
“My lord, I only did my duty as a soldier. Allah was with the faithful,” Abbas replied.
“Ah, thus speaks a modest soldier of mine, one of my most faithful of followers,” the sultan remarked with a smile. “All the same, my brother said that you helped turn the tide of the battle and then chased the enemy back to their border. It shall be remembered, Abbas. What can I do for you this day as a reward?”
Abbas looked up at the face of the man he worshiped. The sharp dark eyes were kindly today, and regarded him with affection.
“My lord, I need no reward but to serve you. May Allah bless you with his kindness. But if I could take some time away to see my family that I have not seen for many months, I would be forever grateful.”
“My lord Abbas! How can you abandon me in my hour of greatest need in this way?” the sultan exclaimed.
Abbas stepped back, aghast that he may have offended, but then he saw the sultan laugh. The general joined in the amusement, and Abbas knew he was allowed to leave his duties for a while. Salah Ed Din, who had almost no family life to speak of, never denied his officers time with their own families when war permitted.
“May God protect you at all times, my lord, as I shall when I return,” Abbas said happily.
“May Allah speed you on your way, my loyal Prince, but remember to come back, as we have some unfinished business with the prison in Alexandria still to discuss.”
Instantly cowed, Abbas put his hand over his heart and bowed in silence. Then he retreated backwards for a few paces before rejoining his men.
The words had stung, but he knew the sultan had let him off lightly. Another man might have lost his head over that debacle, he realized with chagrin. How could he ever live down the shame of that? He wondered in agony.
His reputation had been on the rise until that fateful night when the whole enclosure had gone up in smoke. He had received the messenger with the ill news even while on his way south to the war with the Nubians, and there had been very little he could do at that distance.
Even to this day, no one was entirely sure how it had happened. The messenger informed him that there had been some prisoners caught in their cells that had suffocated to death, while others had forced the doors and killed the guards, then gone on a rampage through the city. It had taken a large force of cavalry and footmen to round up most of them. Some had vanished, while others had been picked up nearby, too drunk to move or to know where they were by dawn.
Abbas retrieved his horse and those of his men who had disembarked from the other boats, then they set out from the city to the south and west where his lands lay. He took only the men who had come down river with him. The others would arrive in Al Qahirah a week hence and he did not want to wait for them.
They had a day and a half to ride to reach their destination. He rode with a light heart, knowing he would soon see his family after almost three months of absence.
* * * * *
They arrived late the next evening, finding the stronghold dark and quiet. As they approached the large wooden gates, he was pleased to note that the guards were alert and challenged them. Once the guards ascertained the identity of his party, the entire place became a noisy bustle. There was a distant return shout and then more excited calls from within the compound as the inhabitants woke up to receive their Lord and master. The gates creaked open and slammed back against the outer walls, followed by the jingle of harness and stamp of iron-shod feet as many horses entered the compound.
Within the house the awakened servants frantically made preparations to welcome the return of their Lord. Abbas walked his horse into the main compound and felt that he was at last home. The tall palms and even taller sycamore trees of great age that lined the road to the gate had initiated this feeling of homecoming, but now once within the gates the cool air of the night and the scent of flowers and watered earth gave him a sense of peace.
To complete the scene, he saw his wife descending the steps of the main building, her way lit by a torch held high by a male servant. His breath caught at the sight of her beauty, which was perhaps made all the more by the flickering flames of the surrounding torches.
He leapt off his horse and almost began to run to her, proper decorum forgotten, but th
en he remembered himself and walked with careful deliberation as she came to him. They met in the middle of the suddenly quiet maidan and he, in keeping with his position, tilted his head to acknowledge her presence.
His wife knelt at his feet, her head bowed and her face half hidden, her hand held up to him.
“Your beauty is twice what it was when I left, my princess. How is it so?” he whispered, as he took her proffered hand and lifted her to her feet to gaze down upon her features.
“You should not abandon me so often, my lord, nor for so long, for my beauty in your eyes would increase tenfold were you to remain with me,” she whispered back, her eyes glowing with the pleasure of seeing him.
He chuckled with delight and then said, “Are you well, my wife? Has my son tested your patience since I left? Are you still friends with that daughter of mine?”
As he spoke, Malek arrived to greet Abbas and hastily prostrated himself in the dust in front of them both.
“Peace be with, you Lord,” he said.
“Peace be with you. Rise up, my faithful Malek, and tell me how you are.”
“We are well, my lord, and…” he cast a glance at Khalidah. “Allah be praised, we have been safe as well. Go you my lord with your wife, while I attend to your men and horses. Er...did you receive my letter, my lord?”
Abbas shook his head. “What letter? I have just come directly from the ship that landed in Al Qahirah two days ago. What do you mean safe? Are you not safe here always?”
“My lord,” Khalidah said gently, “why don’t you come into the house where we can wash away the dust of travel and war, and I shall tell you all.”
Malek gave an almost audible sigh of relief and bowed deeply as his master walked towards the house with his wife on his arm.
They were accosted by a tousle-haired sleepy boy who rushed out of the house and threw himself at his father with a cry of delight.
“Father, you are back with us! We have so much to tell you! We were set upon…” He got no further, as his mother hushed him and put her finger to her lips, then turned to Abbas and spoke.
Assassination in Al Qahira Page 13
