The Serpent's Daughter

by Suzanne Arruda

  Jade hesitated for two seconds, enough to meet her mother’s eyes and gauge her resolve. She lowered her right hand and let the knife slip from her grip. It clattered onto the stone floor, and Jade watched as Lilith’s stiff posture relaxed now that she didn’t perceive Jade as a viable threat. Lilith’s kept the spike to Inez’s throat, but raised her elbow and tried to brush her ear.

  “The amulet won’t do you any good, Lilith,” said Jade. “It wasn’t made for you. Aren’t you afraid of the jinni? Don’t you hear them? They’re angry.”

  “Drop those bones, too,” said Lilith.

  Jade let her left arm droop, just as she had the right. The arm bones dangled loosely in her hand. “There are lots of jinni in these old tunnels. You know, the people that shun light and salt. Mohan already paid the price. Will you?” She let the bones clatter to the floor and took a tiny step forward.

  Lilith, unconsciously caught up in the reverse motion, pulled back, dragging Inez with her. “You must be mad if you think I believe in such rubbish.” She continued to back away, keeping her eye on Jade. Her head twitched in jerky motions. But now Jade let her go. She understood. Three steps later Lilith backed straight into Sam’s Colt revolver, its muzzle pressed against the back of her head.

  “I actually like a bit of salt myself,” said Sam. Then he flipped the gun and whacked her upside the head with the grip.

  Lilith released her hold on Inez, who immediately turned and slammed her fist into Lilith’s face. “What was that phrase again, Jade?” Inez asked as she massaged her knuckles. “Five in your eye?” The humming and the buzzing voice stopped.

  Jade ran to her mother as Lilith slumped unconscious into Sam’s arms. “Yes, Mother,” she said with a laugh. “That’s exactly right.” The two women embraced without another word, but Jade glanced up over her mother’s head and smiled into Sam’s eyes. Her lips moved in a silent “Thanks.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Scholars will continue to speculate about the origins of the Berber people and

  argue language, blue eyes, and skin tones in defense of their favorite thesis. No one seems

  to pay much consideration to the legendary warrior queen in these debates. For myself,

  I can’t help but notice the uncanny resemblance of the words Amazigh and Amazon,

  the legendary warrior women from Libya, itself part of the mysterious Maghreb.

  —The Traveler

  JADE WATCHED AS A PAIR OF PIGEONS fluttered down from the cedar beams to the alabaster fountain. One stayed on the fountain’s slippery rim to drink. The other dropped down to the hexagonal pool on the floor, inlaid in turquoise and white mosaic stars. Swallows swooped in and out of the courtyard, now drinking, now clinging to the ornately carved stucco work along the courtyard walls. The pigeons, having satisfied their thirst, took up residence in a citrus tree and cooed their devotion to each other. The scent of jasmine permeated the air, tantalizing the nostrils with promises of romance and love. No outside noises disturbed the tranquillity of this interior garden.

  “I’m going to die of boredom in here. I want to go out into the Medina so I can finish my photographs,” said Jade. “I can’t imagine how the vizier’s favorite wife endured living in this prison.” She turned to her companions. “That’s what it is, you know. A beautiful, exotic prison.”

  “I admit that this isolation could grow tedious,” admitted Inez, “but I still think it was very gracious of the Resident General to house us here in Bahia Palace. He’s been very kind to us, trying to make up for Deschamp not believing you in Tangier.” She brushed her hands across the folds of her navy blue dress. “I am happy you had the foresight to pack an additional set of clothes for me in the carpetbag. I just wish we had proper chairs and beds rather than these low divans.”

  “Better than sleeping on the floor, Mother,” Jade replied. “At least if we had to be temporarily incarcerated, we’re in a much nicer jail than Lilith is in. I wonder how much longer until they believe they have all the details sorted out?” She leaned against the courtyard doorway and nudged Sam with her elbow.

  “What about you, Sam? Are they cutting you loose anytime soon?”

  “I’m free to go whenever I want,” he said. “I’ve twice told them everything I know. I think they just like hearing the part about you fighting the slave handler.”

  Inez rose from her seat on the divan and joined Sam and her daughter. Together they walked into the courtyard and strolled in the garden.

  “I want to thank you again, Mr. Featherstone,” said Inez and she took Sam’s arm. “I do hope you won’t fly off too soon. I believe that General Lyautey is letting you keep your room for as long as you like. Isn’t that true?”

  “It’s true, ma’am, but I still think it was a rotten joke to give me the room belonging to the favorite wife’s eunuch, no matter how nice a room it is.” Jade turned her laugh into a cough and looked away. “I heard that,” said Sam. “But to answer your question, Mrs. del Cameron, I’m staying another two days. The general offered to set up refueling stations starting in Casablanca and on into Algeria and French Somalia. Avery’s taken over providing me with fuel once I’m back in British East Africa, starting with Archer’s post. And,” he added, “you don’t need me anymore, not even to get back to Tangier. Jade still has that automobile.”

  “Are you going to stay in East Africa long?” asked Jade.

  “Do you want me to?”

  She nodded, finding it surprisingly hard to meet his dark, cocoa-brown eyes. “I think I’d like that.” She felt her mother’s gaze studying her and quickly moved the discussion along. “What are your plans for your next film? Lions? Rhinos?”

  “I’d like to get the Thompsons to help out with a full documentary on the struggles of coffee farming. It could be very dramatic. What about yourselves? How long before the Frenchies turn you two ladies loose?”

  “We actually shouldn’t be here too much longer. Patrido de Portillo is talking, and the evidence against Lilith as Bennington is very deep. The authorities have collected the drugs and the Roman gold from the house. I think they’re more excited about the gold than blocking the export of hashish. You can see the avarice in their eyes.” Jade shook her head in disgust.

  “At least Mr. de Portillo didn’t know about the kidnapping plot or that poor Arab man’s murder,” said Inez. “I’d hate to think a Spaniard could be so evil.”

  “No, Mother. He’s just a nice, well-mannered drug smuggler. But he did know who Bennington was all along.”

  “I’m confused,” said Sam. “Didn’t you say, Mrs. del Cameron, that Lilith Worthy visited you when the boat docked in London?”

  “Yes, she did. I suppose she wanted to make certain I was really on board.”

  “And then,” continued Jade, “she got off, but came back on as Bennington.”

  “Then who came on with her as Bennington’s aunt?” asked Inez.

  “No one. There were so many people embarking and disembarking, no one on board noticed. Later, everyone just assumed there was an aunt, something Lilith took care of when she posed that one time as Aunt Viola.”

  “I never did see them together,” said Inez as though to herself. “No one ever saw much of them at all, really.”

  “The better to maintain her disguise. Women have successfully posed as men in tighter situations, like in the Civil War, and it’s not easy. But it does explain the perpetually impeccably groomed mustache and clean-shaven chin. She always stayed in the shadow or wore a hat and glasses.”

  “I just assumed he, er, she wasn’t used to the light,” said Inez.

  “So what’s going to happen to Lilith?” asked Sam. “Seems she should be held on more than just this murder, kidnapping, and smuggling.”

  “That’s the question of the day, really,” admitted Jade. “The Brits want her in connection with the problems in the Northern Territory, running guns into Abyssinia last January and smuggling drugs in East Africa the year before that. The French want her
over this hashish smuggling and Libby Tremaine’s murder. Seems the only crime no one cares about is that poor devil she had killed in the tunnels. At least not unless the Sultan wants a crack at her for it. All I know is, whoever has custody of her better watch her closely. That woman has connections everywhere, probably more than we’ll ever know. I can’t imagine that she doesn’t have some sort of escape plan.”

  As if to emphasize Jade’s last point, two pigeons flapped their wings and took flight up towards the open skylight above the gardens.

  Inez kept her eyes on Jade’s face as she watched the birds escape from the palace. She placed a gentle hand on her arm. “You did well, Jade. You rescued me. You captured that horrid woman. With your help, Mr. Featherstone,” she added. “And you found Zoulikha’s precious ancestral amulet.”

  Jade fingered her own amulet, hanging around her neck next to David’s ring, which her mother had returned to her. “Bachir took it back to the village yesterday. I wrapped it up very carefully so no one else would handle it again except the rightful kahina. It should be safe in Zoulikha’s hand by tomorrow morning. ” Jade watched the colored light from the glass windows turn the water from the fountain into pink, gold, and pale blue drops of liquid light. “I wonder what Bachir will do now?”

  “I imagine he’ll get married,” said Inez. Jade looked up suddenly, her eyes questioning. Inez smiled a cat-and-canary grin as though pleased to have noted something that her daughter had missed. “I believe he’s in love with Yamna, and I suspect the feeling is mutual. That alliance should also put him in good standing to become the next village sheik.”

  “Mohan would have been,” added Jade, “but old Izemrasen must have figured him out. Mohan not only stole silver bracelets to sell, he was also likely one of the many mountain people bringing in hashish to sell.”

  “Was he actually growing plants and harvesting the resin for hashish?” asked Sam.

  Jade shook her head. “Not that I saw, unless he had a hidden garden far away from the village. But I remember Zoulikha saying she once thought she saw the charm in the district kaid’s big kasbah. I gathered the kaid and Zoulikha’s husband did not see eye to eye. Mohan might have been helping the kaid deliver hashish down the mountain in return for the backing to succeed Izemrasen as sheik. But that’s only a hypothesis. It’s probably how he met Lilith to begin with, but we’ll never know for certain. He’s dead and Lilith is acting as silent as the proverbial grave.”

  She shivered for a moment as she recalled part of her dream before leaving the mountain. “I dreamed about his death, you know. I saw Lilith as the dark lady mourning in a cemetery. I saw her shed a tear of grief but it sprouted into something twisted and vile. Like the Lilith of the Adam stories, she drew Mohan into her web, sucking the life from him and eventually killing him.”

  “Still it’s sad, what happened to Mohan,” said Inez. “In his heart he was only trying to do what he felt was best for his daughter.” She stroked Jade’s short wavy hair, shimmering blue-black in the light. “Sometimes even parents with the best intentions make mistakes.”

  Jade heard the yearning in her mother’s voice and pivoted to see her more clearly. “Mother? Are you trying to tell me something?”

  “Should I leave?” asked Sam.

  “No, Mr. Featherstone,” said Inez. She put a hand on his arm to ensure him of his welcome. “I just think maybe I tried too hard to force Jade to become more like those Taos people, those boring, tedious, silly—”

  Jade laughed and caught her mother up in a bear hug. “Oh, Mother, I love you. And I’m sorry if I’ve given you fits. I just hate to see you try to emulate those women. I think we’re more alike than either of us might want to admit.”

  “Mr. Featherstone explained that to me, Jade. Something about critters and . . .”

  “Um, ladies,” interjected Sam, ignoring Jade’s raised eyebrows. “So you trust this Bachir to get the amulet back safely?” Jade nodded.

  “Are you sorry you couldn’t go back with him?” Inez asked.

  Jade shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s probably better this way.” She turned and grinned. “I don’t think I could have handled any more mint tea. So, Sam. You plan to film life in Happy Valley, right? That should be interesting. As soon as we have the Resident General’s blessing to leave this marble sepulcher, I want to photograph Marrakech. I already have pictures of the Amazigh village. I could manage two articles out of this trip for the magazine, and maybe another on Tangier once I drive Mother back in my trusty Panhard.”

  “And after that, it’s on to Andalusia,” said Inez. “This time, I will not take no for an answer from my cousin. I will get my stallion.”

  “I believe you will at that, Mother. How can he possibly say no to a descendent of the great kahina. I just wish I could be with you to see the look on Dad’s face when you bring it back and tell him all about your adventure.” She tilted her head and peered at her mother. “How much do you plan to tell him, anyway?”

  “Oh, probably all of it. But not all at once,” said Inez with a teasing grin. “I think it will be more fun that way.”

  “Poor Mr. del Cameron,” murmured Sam. “He doesn’t stand a chance.” Inez and Jade both laughed.

  Jade broke loose of the others and paced out into the courtyard. “I just wish they’d tell us we can go.”

  “It’s just as well that we stay here, Jade,” said Inez. “You still aren’t fit to be seen with all that henna staining your hands and chin.”

  “They’re fading, Mother, and please do not start in on my appearance again.”

  “I’m not. I suppose you could hide your hands with gloves. And enough powder might cover the chin.” She studied Jade’s forehead and frowned. “But that mark just below your hairline doesn’t seem to be fading. And it’s blue, not black or brown.”

  “Really?” Jade knelt down on the floor by the pool and stared at her reflection. “Oh, dear. I hate to tell you this, Mother, but that one’s not going away. It seems our mountain friends made me a permanent member of the tribe.” She fidgeted with the curls over her face. “I can always wear my hair in bangs, I guess. It’s small.” She stood and brushed the damp off her trouser knees. “But after all, we are Amazigh people, Mother.”

  Inez’s lips formed a coy grin. “Maybe, but I will always be a Spaniard first.” She stepped onto the hard mosaic floor, raised her arms above her head to her right, and clapped out a staccato rhythm. As she did, she struck her heel down hard and followed it with three rapid steps in place. The clatter of her heels on the enamel sounded like a retort, sharp and defiant.

  “Olé!” shouted Sam as his hands took up the rhythm. Jade laughed, her teeth flashing like pearls in the sunlight as she joined her mother in a wild flamenco.

  Jade felt a twinge of sadness when she and her mother rode the last mile up the mountain trail to the Berber village, but it had been a wonderful trip. And it was all her mother’s idea. She’d read the disappointment in Jade’s eyes when she handed the amulet over to Bachir to take back. So once the authorities were satisfied and released them, they used one of the ten Roman coins given to them as a reward to buy mules and supplies. They camped along the way, singing songs and getting to know each other all over again. They shared tales of past adventures; many of Inez’s were eye-openers to Jade.

  If they’d entertained any notion of surprising Zoulikha with their visit, they were mistaken. No sooner had their mounts stepped into the valley than the pair was met by the entire village. Leading the group was Zoulikha, decked in full regalia with silver chains and bangles across her headdress and chest. Lying on top of them all was the precious amulet. Behind her was Bachir, proudly standing next to Yamna and holding Lallah’s hand.

  Inez and Jade looked at each other and grinned. Then, as one, the village women raised their chins to the sky and burst forth in a joyous ululation.

  AUTHOR’S NOTES

  IT IS ALWAYS DIFFICULT TO TRANSCRIBE languages that use different characters from those
found in the English alphabet. Such is the case with the Berber and Moroccan Arabic words found in this book. For example, jinn is frequently written as djin or jnun. I chose jinn for two reasons: it was easier for me to type and it’s easier for the reader to read. For other spellings, I referred to the Lonely Planet Moroccan Arabic Phrasebook. In some instances, I took words from books of that time. For example, Marrakesh is rendered Marrakech in many writings of the period.

  Many excellent resources exist on historical Morocco, most from the American or European perspective, and since that was Jade’s viewpoint, they served my purpose. Budgett Meakin provides us with three accounts: The Land of the Moors (1901), The Moors (1902), and Life in Morocco (1905). George Edmund Holt published a 1914 account of Tangier in Morocco the Bizarre, or, Life in the Sunset Land. Novelist Edith Wharton describes the drive from Casablanca to Marrakech and the red city itself during her 1917 trip in her memoir In Morocco. Her book has been reprinted, but without the valuable photographs found in old copies.

  Old Morocco and the Forbidden Atlas by C. E. Andrews gives a good account of Marrakech and the Atlas Mountains in 1921. Highly recommended is Ritual and Belief in Morocco (1926) by Edward Westermarck, especially if you wish to learn more excellent curses. This is a continuation of Mr. Westermarck’s studies on Moroccan culture begun in The Belief in Spirits in Morocco (1920) and continued in Wit and Wisdom in Morocco: A Study of Native Proverbs (1931).

  Several National Geographic articles are well worth looking up: “Morocco, the Land of the Extreme West” (March 1906), “Scenes From North Africa” (September 1907), “A Journey in Morocco: The Land of the Moors” (August 1911), “The Two Great Moorish Religious Dances” (August 1911), “Across French and Spanish Morocco” (March 1925), and “Beyond the Grand Atlas” (March 1932). A description of Tangier can also be found in Jade’s rival publication, Travel (November 1910), with “Across the Doorstep of Morocco.”