She was tired and ready for bed, but Najja stood in the doorway waiting to be recognized. She obviously had come with some message that needed attention. “What is it now Najja? I’m tired and have no time to see anyone.”
“But my queen, it is Il Hamd. He’s very upset and insists he must see you immediately.”
Bilqis took off her crown with great deliberation and stood holding it as her eyes became hard and her mouth firm. “I’ve no intention of seeing that man. He brings nothing but trouble.”
“He says it’s important. There’s some bad omen. All the camel drivers are frightened and your own tribesmen are ready to turn back.”
“Turn back!” she whirled and her eyes flashed their indignation. “Of course we’ll not turn back. Bring my throne,” she ordered as she put the crown back on her head. From out in the dark hallway the Nubians came carrying her throne and waited just inside the low door for her instructions. “Here,” she said. “Put it here beneath the wall torches.”
The Nubians backed from the room with their hands on their knees and their eyes down, just as Il Hamd appeared in the shadows beyond the door. Bilqis sat down on the throne and let Najja and her maidens arrange the folds of her robe. Then stiffening as for an attack, she nodded to one of the pages, who quickly went to usher Il Hamd into her presence.
“My queen.” He bowed, keeping his eyes on the ground in an unusual show of humility. She noticed his white garments were soiled and brown with dust while his headpiece though tarnished was still ornate and impressive. The long, nervous fingers were clutching some parchments. She saw the hated snake ring and remembered the terrible night in the small pavilion.
Her voice was sharp and clipped. “You know that I’m not one to be frightened, so be careful, old one, and tell only what you know to be true.”
She noticed that his hand tightened on the parchments as he looked up at her with wide, startled eyes. “My queen,” he said, “I’d rather face the fiercest Jinn than your disapproval.”
She could see that he’d grown thin, and it was obvious the news that brought him to her was at least in his mind urgent. “Then speak but make it short. The hour’s late and we must be on our way at daybreak tomorrow.”
“That’s the problem,” Il Hamd said, nervously twisting the parchments into a slender cylinder. “We must not go on. It’s dangerous. We must turn back while there’s time.”
“Turn back!” Bilqis was suddenly tense and cautious. “Of course we’ll not turn back,” she said with a toss of her head. “Though all the stars in heaven warned against it, I’d not turn back.”
Il Hamd was visibly shaken. But summoning his courage he leaned forward and hissed, “My queen, don’t speak so easily of omens. It’s the omens that have warned we must turn back.”
“What omens, what signs?” she demanded. “Remember, I’m no ignorant peasant to be frightened into doing your bidding.”
“It’s not my bidding. There’ve been shadows crossing the night path of Ilumquh and the birds that followed us have all turned back; now only hawks and vultures fly overhead.”
“What then do you read into these omens? What does it mean?”
“It’s obvious, my queen. Ilumquh is shadowed because he is in mourning, while the vultures and hawks are waiting for our destruction that will take place as soon as we cross the line that divides your kingdom from that of the desert tribesmen. The tribesmen worship many gods at their temple in Mecca and once on their land we are in their power. Ilumquh can’t help us.”
“But the caravans pass all the time and the gods of the tribesmen don’t harm them. We can pay the same price they pay. Surely the gods like gold.” Her tone of voice was almost cynical and Il Hamd paled under her steady gaze.
“The opposition is more than usual,” he said. “You’re not just a trader; you’re the queen of Sheba, Ilumquh’s queen. The Jinn would love to capture such as you.”
“How do you know all this? Have you talked to the Jinn?”
“Last night several stars fell from the sky. There was a strange wind that could be heard but not felt and then I myself had a dream so terrible I couldn’t go back to sleep.”
“And …” The queen was unmoved through this whole rendition.
“It is obvious that we are being warned. The Jinn are waiting for us, and the moment we pass from Ilumquh’s protection, they will destroy us.”
“How?”
“What do you mean, how?”
“How will they destroy us? If you truly know all of this, surely you can also find out what they plan to do and then we’ll just plan to defeat them.”
Il Hamd was speechless. He had obviously expected the queen to accept his evaluation of the situation.
Bilqis drummed her fingers on the throne’s alabaster arm and studied Il Hamd. He was no longer the frightening dignitary she had known all her life. Now he was a man like any other and she could see that he really believed her life was being threatened. Her tone softened. “I know this is difficult. You have your training as a priest of Ilumquh, but it must be evident to you as it is to me that some things are true and certain and others are traditions. Tell me now what do you know for certain. What is true.”
“True?” Il Hamd twisted the scroll and looked for a moment like a schoolboy that had forgotten the answer the teacher was requesting.
“Yes, what do you know for sure? What would you risk your life on?”
“Risk my life on?!” Il Hamd was obviously nervous. The queen could see he had never thought in this way before.
“Yes, for instance, would you be willing to wager your life on what you’ve told me? Are you willing to face execution if your prediction is wrong?”
Il Hamd cleared his throat, stared at the wall torch for a moment, and then looked at the queen and shrugged. “Who knows what is true and what is false. We can only be cautious and respect all omens.”
“Then we are doomed never to try anything difficult. There are always evil omens and men who invent evil omens when faced with difficulties.”
Il Hamd flushed red at her words. “My queen, I’ve not invented the omens. They’re real.”
“But you would like to end this adventure and return to Marib and the pleasant rituals and easy rewards.”
“It’s best for all of us to end this ‘adventure’ as you call it. No good can come of it. Most of us will die and be left for the vultures.”
“Again you’ve obviously tried to manipulate me, to make me change my mind by frightening me with omens. After that shoddy business in the temple, I’m not so easily frightened. We’re going on. If the Jinn attack, then it is proven that you were right, but if not, then again we’ve proved the omens wrong.”
“It’s not safe to go against so many omens.” Il Hamd was trembling. His eyebrows were raised and his eyes were wide with astonishment.
“You must understand. It’s more important to me now to know what is true than to be safe. We’re going on.”
“Then may I request that I, your humble servant, the most High Priest of Ilumquh, be allowed to turn back?”
Bilqis stood up so that she towered over him. “You, especially, must come. We’ll learn about truth together.” The audience was over, but Il Hamd was too stunned to move.
“My queen,” he said as he bent to kiss the hem of her robe as a sign of his submission, “how are we to find this truth?”
“Why, we’ll start tomorrow by defying the Jinn and the omens. Then if we learn nothing from that, there is Solomon. Everyone says he is wise. Perhaps he’ll be able to sort truth from old wives’ tales and tradition.”
Without another word Il Hamd rose, and bowing left the room. Bilqis watched him go and noticed that he was trembling. He was really frightened. It was clear that he used his knowledge to frighten and control others, but it was also true that he himself had a solid respect for his own beliefs. The final fault she found with him was that he had no real desire for truth. He accepted things as they were and asked no que
stions. And if the gods or Jinn didn’t act, then it was his business to help them out.
She realized that early the next day they would be back on the camels crossing out of Sheba’s territory into the deserts supposedly controlled by the many gods that ruled in the Kabba at Mecca. Many gods she had heard, one for every day of the year at least and one for every problem. Il Hamd may have a point. At least she’d alert her guards and have them ride fully armed under their cloaks.
On the same evening in the ancient Khan in Jericho, Badget was sitting in the great court warming himself by a fire made with dung. He was talking to some of the other camel drivers and exchanging stories of their adventures in strange lands and unusual circumstances while he waited for Terra to ready herself for bed. The sun had gone down and the moon was up, which clearly signaled the end of any work or activity but drinking, talking, and enjoying one’s wife.
When in the desert Badget had often risen early and traveled late because it was cool and pleasant and the stars kept them on track better than the sun, but at home he was in bed when the sun went down and ready to rise with the first cock crow.
He had put from his mind all business and the complexity of telling Yasmit about his new wife. All he thought about was holding the plump, fragrant Terra in his arms again. She was such an innocent at love and yet such a willing pupil that Badget found himself eagerly anticipating the next lesson. With Yasmit it had been she who had been the teacher and Badget the pupil. At the time he had thought it the best of arrangements, but now he knew better.
“It takes a good two months and a half to come from Sheba, eh Badget?” Badget hadn’t been listening until he heard his name.
“What, what did you say?”
“Two and a half months for the queen you were telling us about to travel from Sheba.”
“It takes me two and a half months,” Badget said rolling his eyes as he tried to calculate. “They won’t be pushing. They’ll rise early and ride late, but they’ll be stopping in the heat of the day. Then she has stops along the way.”
“Where’s she stopping?”
“I’ve been told she wants to visit the temple in Mecca, and some of the princes will no doubt entertain her. I know she’ll stop to visit Prince Hadad of Edom. She once asked me about the Siq that leads into the hidden city.”
There was silence as the men thought about the strange turn of events that induced a queen to travel the rugged road they made their living on.
The conversation ended for the night, and Badget was about to excuse himself and go to his rooms when there was a loud knocking heard on the great gate of the Khan. A man’s voice, muffled and insistent, announced a traveler, a woman that needed lodging for the night.
The old gateman hurried to open the smaller gate within the closed larger one. He held his torch high with one hand and undid the huge bolt letting the door swing back on its leather hinges. Badget glanced up and to his utter horror saw framed in the doorway the angry face of Yasmit.
Her eyes darted around the area lighted by the fire until they settled on Badget. “You fiend from Sheol!” she screamed as she flew at him with fists flying. He dodged just in time, covering his head with his arms so that her blows rained down upon him with little effect. “Where is she? Where’ve you hidden her?” she screamed.
Badget kept backing away, but she followed him relentlessly. He tried to speak, but no sound came. He dodged behind some of the men now standing by the fire, and she tore at them and pushed them aside leaving Badget hopelessly pinned against the wall.
“Is it true?” she said choking him until his eyes bulged from his head. “Have you taken another wife? Have you brought this insult down on my head?”
“Yes, yes.” Badget tried to explain but he got no further. Yasmit turned screaming and cursing to the astonished innkeeper, his wife, and the assembled traders. In a fit of fury she pulled off her mantle and began tearing at her hair, clawing at her face until the blood began to run in streaks like tears.
No one moved. They stood as though frozen in horror trying to understand what was happening. Suddenly Terra appeared in the doorway. She had seen all that happened from a window in her room. Before Yasmit’s arrival, she had been watching Badget with fond affection as he commanded so easily the interest and respect of the other traders. Now she moved out across the courtyard and came to stand so the firelight wove a golden wreath around her face and made her look ethereal and fragile. “You must be Yasmit,” she said in a calm, musical voice with just the hint of an accent. “I’m sure we will be like sisters.”
Her words were like cold water thrown on a fire. Yasmit jerked around and stared in unbelief at this friendly voice. She ran her sleeve across her mouth and was silent, studying intently this small, plump woman who had emerged so suddenly and seemed so in command.
Very much in control of things now, Terra moved to her side. “Come, you must be tired and hot. I’ve heard it’s a long ride from Jerusalem.”
There was a moment while everyone held their breath. Yasmit was still heaving and choking with emotion but the shock had silenced her and now she was concentrating on this strange apparition that had dared confront her with such calm. “Who are you?” she said finally regaining her breath and pulling back.
“My name is Terra. I’m sure we will become the best of friends.” All the time she was talking, Terra was gently leading Yasmit toward the inn door. When they disappeared into the shadows beyond the door, everyone relaxed. Badget sank down by the fire, his head in his hands, the innkeeper and his wife shrugged and went back inside while the other traders again took their places around the fire.
“Did you see that?” one of the traders said. “I never in my life saw anything like it.”
“She just walked out here as calm as anything,” another trader said, shaking his head in disbelief.
“It’s like our king’s always saying, ‘a soft answer turns away wrath.’”
At this Badget straightened up and ran his fingers through his hair.
“I just wonder what’s going on up there. If you don’t mind I’ll sleep down here with the camels tonight.”
Early the next morning when the queen’s caravan was preparing to swing out onto the old trade route going north, there was an air of impending doom hanging over everyone. No one talked, and it was observed that even the camels were skittish and out of sorts. They refused to move and had to have their tails twisted, their lead ropes pulled, and their riders’ heels dug in hard before they would stand. It was nothing new for the camels to complain in harsh, guttural sounds, but for them to engage in such total rebellion was noted as a very bad omen.
There had been one other bad omen that really disturbed Bilqis. When she had returned to the camp, she was told that a lamb and a ewe had been carried off just after dark by wolves. They had all heard the dogs barking but no other sound. Only in the morning did they discover the prints of a male wolf near where they had heard the dogs while a female’s prints were on the opposite side of the tents. With the female prints was a clear marking in the sand of something having been dragged.
“There’s the evidence,” one of the bedouin drivers exclaimed pointing at the telltale marks.
“Surely you would have heard the bleating of the ewe,” Bilqis interjected.
“My queen,” the rough, unkempt bedouin offered respectfully, “it’s well known that a sheep when frightened makes no sound at all; goats are different. If it had been a goat, there would have been a terrible ruckus. Wolves leave the goats alone.”
With a sharp awareness of the fear and gloom that hung over the caravan, Bilqis let her eunuchs help her into the howdah and then ordered the caravan to proceed.
The stars were out in a magnificent array of brilliance with only the wind, light and fresh, to remind them that dawn was on its way.
Usually Bilqis enjoyed this early morning time, but with Il Hamd’s predictions of disaster still lurking in the dark corners of her mind, she wasn’t able to th
ink of much else. She was determined not to be persuaded to go back, but then she had to admit there must be constant vigilance, “just in case.”
The camel drivers sang as usual but instead of the rousing, joyful songs, they now sang songs that were wild and sad, rising and falling in semitones.
The whole day was filled with fearful anticipation of some fatal accident, some evil band of raiders or a desert storm stirred up by the Jinn or the envious gods of this strange country.
Late that night they reached the camp chosen for them near some wells. The tents were already pitched. The evening meal consisting of cracked wheat stewed in broth and young spring lambs roasted on a spit gave the day its final touch of well-being. No Jinn had struck and no strange gods had taken revenge. “The queen has luck like her father” was the whisper that went round the campfires that night.
For any sheik or king there were three requirements. He must be courageous, a leader, and have an unusual quantity of luck. To most of them the third quality was the most important, and they had not expected to find it in a woman.
Bilqis went to sleep relieved that Il Hamd’s predictions of disaster had not materialized. They were now well into the strange new country of the desert tribes and no evil had befallen them.
She slept soundly, and before she knew it dawn was breaking over the vast emptiness of sand and scrub. Close by there was the sound of a woman half humming and singing the age-old leben-making songs. She could plainly hear the steady, dull thumping sound of the goatskin hanging from a tripod being swung back and forth in the ancient process of making leben. Then there were whispered orders and the soft padding of bare feet going out into the paling moonlight to gather bits of kindling and dried nettles. There would be warm bread, leben, and honey to eat before they set out on the well-worn track to the famous trading center called Mecca.
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