Scrambling up, Mohammed's sword arm flickered out, and the point of his saber caught Tafiq under the chin and then, with a sickly ripping sound, tore his throat out. Mohammed fell back, wiping his blade unconsciously on his pant leg. The sound of steel ringing on steel filled the air. He turned, kicking the other fallen paper wall out of the way.
The great hall was filled with dead and dying men; and more-Bani Hashim by their headdresses and robes-were pushing into the hall from the doorway. Roxane's servants and house guards seemed to have fallen or disappeared. Sayyqi and Da'ud had fallen back to the front of the dining area and joined Uri, who had retrieved a spear from somewhere. The Hashim spread out, advancing across the floor of the hall toward them.
"Up the stairs," Mohammed barked, pointing behind them to where a broad, flat set of stairs rose up to the second story of the house. "Roxane-run ahead and gather your servants. We need a room with a stout door! Sayyqi, Da'ud-with her! Uri, to me."
Mohammed backed up the stairs, his saber loose in his hand, ready to drink the blood of the first man to cross it. Uri fell back in step with him while the others ran off down the hallway. The Hashim scuttled closer. Mohammed eyed them warily-the clansmen were in heavy robes with light armor underneath. The first rank moved cautiously up the stairs, a thicket of spears and shields tensed and at the ready. Mohammed felt the edge of the carpet in the upper hallway with his boot and jumped backward, onto the landing. There was a pair of lanterns on the walls, cut glass with an oil wick inside. He jerked his head at the one on his left, catching Uri's eye.
The Hashim on the stairs raised a shout and suddenly charged, two men leading the way, springing up the steps. Mohammed took a step down and whirled his sword across their path. The man on the left dodged aside, but the other tried to duck under the blur of steel. Mohammed reversed and cut down, drawing his whole right side back in one abrupt movement. The Indian steel of his saber scissored down and caught the man on the joint of his shoulder and his arm. Metal links sparked and then gave way. The saber bit into the man's shoulder, catching the joint, and Mohammed whipped the blade away, tearing cartilage and bone. The Hashim fighter screamed, and blood spattered from his ruined arm across the other men charging up behind him.
At Mohammed's side, Uri feinted at the man who had leapt aside, then stabbed out with his spear, hooking the oil lantern off the wall and flinging it across the faces of the onrushing men. The glass cracked and then shattered as the lantern flew, spewing burning oil across the Hashim. One man took the brunt of the fire and fell back, his head engulfed in sticky orange flame. He tried to scream, but the oil slid into his mouth and he choked to death on smoke and fire as he fell down the stairs. Uri howled in delight and spun back to the left, catching one of the partially burning Hashim with the spear. The man's sternum caught the tip of the heavy-bladed spear and then cracked nosily. Uri kicked the man off the leaf-shaped blade and threw him into the mass of men on the stairs.
Mohammed fell back again, his saber ringing like a bell as it fended off three Hashim who were pressing hard. Uri was fighting a step behind and to one side, the gore-streaked blade of the spear darting over the Quraysh's shoulder. More Hashim pressed up the stairs and into the corridor. Mohammed backed into a great urn and had to roll away to avoid being pierced by two spears. He leapt back, beating aside the spears, and threw his shoulder into the giant jadeite planter. It creaked and then spilled over with a great boom. The Hashim jumped back.
"Run!" Mohammed yelled at Uri, sprinting away down the corridor. Behind them the Hashim roared in anger, the sound of baying hounds on the hunt.
– |The roof of the building collapsed with a great roar, flames billowing out of the windows and jetting into the sky. Somewhere within, amphorae of oil or pine resin ignited, sending rich blue flames rushing up amid the orange and yellow of wood and straw. Jalal stood in the street, bodies scattered around him, blood on his face and hands, howling commands at his men. "Form up! Form up!"
The Tanukh spilled out of the darkness, heavily laden with their gear. Shadin ran up, his face a mask in the flickering flame light. He had a staff with him, wrapped in a banner. Jalal laughed with joy to see it-his second great fear had been that it was lost in the burning building.
"Unfurl the banner of our captain," he shouted above the din. Their sudden attack out into the street had driven back the Bani Hashim who had been guarding the front of the house. Their dismembered bodies showed the skill and ferocity of the Tanukh. Shadin grinned in the darkness, his teeth white and his eyes wild in the ruddy light. He swiftly untied the cords that held the banner closed.
Some of the Tanukh turned in the street, once they had reached Jalal and Shadin, and drew their bows. At the end of the street, Bani Hashim warriors were regrouping. Black arrows flicked away, and even in the poor light, two of the Hashim fell. Shadin raised the banner, a long green triangular pennant with a long tail. In the grim light of the burning building, it seemed black with the sigil of a single curved white saber upon it. Jalal's heart soared to see it unfurl and flap in the wind. "For the captain!" he howled, and raised his saber high. "For the Quraysh!"
The Tanukh joined him, screaming at the top of their lungs, "For the Quraysh!"
Jalal pointed up the hill, where the street wound away between the narrow buildings and mounted up the terraces toward the residences of the Bani Hashim.
"On, lads! On! Our captain needs us!"
The Tanukh moved as one, a thick band of men in arms and armor, bristling with spears over shields blazoned with bright geometric patterns. They jogged up the street, their grim faces lit by the flames of the burning building.
– |Mohammed threw his shoulder into the door, Uri hard at his side, and the oaken panel slammed shut. A Hashim spear had thrust through the opening at the last instant and had caught at the jamb. Mohammed tried to kick at it with his boot, but it would not dislodge. The door panel shook as the Hashim outside the room slammed against it.
"The spear!" Mohammed shouted, fumbling for his longsword with one hand. Roxane stepped in, swinging a carpenter's axe, and the spear haft snapped under the blow. The broken shaft disappeared back out the door, and the panel finally crashed shut. Uri slammed the locking bar across the door, and the whole frame jumped as the Hashim, their voices filled with rage, hit it again. Mohammed jumped back and seized a nearby divan, dragging it behind the door.
They had fallen back to Roxane's quarters on the top floor of the house. Here, amid perfumed splendor, Mohammed and Uri barricaded the door. Roxane had gathered her servants before her as she ran upstairs, and now they cowered weeping at the back of the room. Sayyqi and Da'ud returned from the other chamber, their faces red and arms straining as they carried a huge clothing trunk. The chest fell heavily against the door. Mohammed stepped back, letting his saber fall to point at the floor. He looked at Roxane. "Daughter, where are your husband and his guardsmen? Surely they must have heard all this noise?"
Roxane stared glumly at her father, her perfect makeup smeared and a trail of soot in her hair. "My husband did not approve of my attempt to bring peace," she said in a bitter voice. "He betook himself to his mother's house for the evening, with most of the guardsmen. I just saw one of his brothers on the staircase…"
Mohammed nodded. Open war between the clans had come to Makkah, and it would spare no one. He looked around the room, seeing tall, narrow windows and a stout-beamed roof. He pointed up with his chin. "Is there a way to the roof? Can we escape that way?"
Roxane sat down on a gilded velvet hassock and put her head in her hands. Her long dark hair was a mess, lying tangled around her shoulders. "There is a garden on part of the roof, and racks for laundry, but you cannot get to that stairway without going back out into the hall. My quarters have no exit save this door."
Uri laughed, turning and leaning on his spear. "A fine cage he made you, then, Lady Roxane. We will have to cut a hole in the ceiling."
Mohammed nodded, his face grim and closed. "Yes. Sayyqi, ta
ke my daughter and her servants to the rear-most room. Cut a way out through the ceiling with the axe. We will hold this door and these front rooms until you are done."
Sayygi nodded, picking up the axe. His shoulders were thick with muscle and he lifted the heavy iron-headed weapon with ease. "As you say, Captain."
He herded the servants out of the room. Roxane made to stay, but Mohammed shook his head at her and she left. Uri looked after her, his face a little sad. He wiped some blood off of his chin. "I tried to arrange a marriage between her and my son, Ezekhail, you know. Unfortunately, Khadijah and I did not see eye to eye at that time. Sharaf won that toss of the dice…"
Mohammed smiled a little, and nodded. His wife had told him a little of the constant maneuvering and posturing that filled the idle time of the families of the city. When she had done it, he was sure that the match had been in the best interests of their house. A snort of bitter laughter escaped him. He paced up and down along the wall of the room that held the door to the corridor. Faintly he could make out the Hashim running about outside and some shouting. "They will find something for a ram," he mused aloud as he quietly tapped the wall along its length. It seemed to be solid, without stuccoed spaces where the Hashim could break it down with axes of their own. His son-in-law probably had spared no expense to protect his womenfolk. A thought occurred to him. "Da'ud, quickly-go through the rooms here and check for hidden doors or passages. Rap on the walls, look for hollow spaces. Go!"
Da'ud nodded sharply and hefted his saber before ducking through the door into the next room. Uri nodded slowly and began carefully moving along the left wall of the room. It was difficult; the walls were covered with woven hangings and, behind them, ornamental woods. Mohammed stayed near the door, listening quietly. Uri was finished with his circuit in a few minutes and returned. "Nothing here," he said quietly. "A wise precaution-I know my own house has such passages. Well, I built them, so I should remember." He laughed and clapped Mohammed on the shoulder. "I have missed you, my friend," he said. "Odd that our paths took such a long journey to come together again."
Mohammed nodded. When they had been little, it had been Uri who had wanted to see the world and travel on the open seas. But he had stayed home, and built his house until it was very strong. Mohammed, the boy who had always been looking for another scroll to read, had been the one who went away. Mohammed frowned. It was very quiet outside. "Get ready," he said, stepping back into the cleared space in the middle of the room. "They are about to try the door."
A moment passed, and all Mohammed could hear was the breathing of his companion and the faint sound of Sayyqi chopping at the roof timbers three rooms away. Then, very faint through the door, was the sound of rushing feet, and a great boom shook the panel. Splinters flew away from the locking bar, but the door held.
"Da'ud!" Mohammed shouted, raising his saber over his head. A few paces away, Uri raised his long spear. "Get in here!"
Boom! The door panel creaked, and the bar split along its length. The Hashim in the outer corridor gave a great shout, sounding like an army. Boom! The bar cracked, and the door snapped open, lodging against the heavy chest of drawers. Spears poked through the opening, their flat heads questing like snakes. Mohammed held up a hand, warning Uri off. Da'ud ran into the room and skidded to a halt on Mohammed's right. The chest groaned and screeched as it was ground back across the floor. The black headdresses of dozens of Hashim could be made out through the door. A spear flew into the room and clattered on the floor behind Mohammed. He tensed, preparing for violent action.
The Hashim swung their ram again, and the chest of drawers was knocked aside with a great clatter. Four Hashim, their long robes flying out, leapt into the room. Their faces were obscured with dark gauze, showing only eyes filled with hatred. The first man's saber hacked at Mohammed, and he caught the tip with his own blade and knocked it aside. A cheer went up from the hallway, and more Hashim boiled into the room. Mohammed gave a great shout and attacked, his own blade raining blows on the Hashim. The lead man parried the first two strokes, but then Mohammed caught him on the pommel and knocked the saber away. Other Hashim struggled past, trading sword strokes with Da'ud and trying to close with Uri.
Mohammed punched the man in the face with the pommel of his saber, feeling bones shatter under the blow, then hacked sideways at one of the men stabbing at Uri. The man, caught from behind, cried out as the saber cut into his spine, then fell. Uri rushed into the space in the line of men trying to bring him to bay, whirling the spear over his head, and gutted the man to his right. Mohammed turned, with Uri at his back, and pressed into the door, hewing at the men struggling to pass over the trunks and divans that had been piled behind it. One tried to jump away but fell heavily, and Mohammed's saber sank into the stomach of the Hashim behind him. Blood gurgled as Mohammed pulled his blade free. Uri killed another of the swordsmen with the spear.
There was a cry behind them both, and Mohammed risked a quick glance over his shoulder. Three Hashim had gotten past and had brought down poor Da'ud. They hacked at his body as he struggled on the floor in a spreading pool of blood. Then Roxane appeared in the doorway, straining to heft a heavy Roman-style arcuballista of ancient dark wood. A quatrefoil bolt lay in the cradle. Mohammed wrenched his head away, barely blocking the blow of the next Hashim through the doorway. He heard a sharp twang as the steel spring released, and a scream of pain, but no more. Two Hashim attacked; their blades a bright blur in the air. He locked one with his own sword and wrenched sideways. The second man's saber could not stop and hacked into his fellow's shoulder. Both men cried out in rage and Mohammed gave a mighty heave, throwing the two men back in a heap.
Uri rushed back and impaled one of the Hashim who had slain Da'ud, running the spear all the way through his body. The noble pushed the fouled weapon aside, and the man slumped to the floor, his hands clawing at the ash shaft that transfixed him. The remaining Hashim in the room had grappled with Roxane, but now he turned, hearing the sound of Uri's rushing feet. The Hashim warrior threw the woman down, and a long knife rasped out of the sheath at his side. The Ben-Sarid skidded to a halt, his fine-tooled leather boots sliding a little on the marble floor. His own dagger appeared in his hand; a blade of Syrian steel twelve inches long. The Hashim shouted and lunged, cutting sharply overhand at Uri's head. The Ben-Sarid ducked and slammed the Hashim in the chest with his shoulder. The two men grappled, hands locked on their wrists.
Spearmen crowded the door in front of Mohammed and he fell back, staying out of reach of the metal tongues. He tried rushing the man on the right side, but the others covered too quickly. Mohammed snarled at the men. "Uri, finish him and get back to the next room!"
Behind the Quraysh merchant, Uri and the Hashim were struggling on the floor, each trying to gain position. Sweat spattered off the Hashim into Uri's eyes. The Hashim's knife hand ground lower, the blade reaching for Uri's face. The Ben-Sarid wrenched to the side, escaping the bite of the knife, which scraped on the floor next to his head. Mohammed backpedaled past the two men, jumping over their legs, and-in passing-slashed down with his saber. The curved tip cut into the side of the man's head and blood fountained. The Hashim screamed and tried to roll away. Uri cracked the man's knife hand against the floor, sending the knife skittering away, and drove his own blade sideways into the man's chest.
The Hashim at the door howled in rage and pushed through, filling the room. Uri scrambled past Mohammed, who threw the next door closed. The Hashim were at it in grains, axe blows raining against the decorative ash panel. It began splintering immediately. Mohammed looked around for something with which to reinforce the door.
His daughter's handmaidens had a beautiful sleeping and sewing room, but it was woefully lacking in large heavy objects to block doors with. Uri looked back at him and shrugged his shoulders.
"Back to the next room," Mohammed wheezed. The battle was wearing on him; he was not so young anymore. "Has Sayyqi cut a hole to the roof yet?"
–
|Jalal jogged up the street, twenty or thirty Tanukh and Quraysh at his back. Around him Makkah was burning as the pent-up hatreds of thirty years of quiet conflict erupted into open battle. Great mansions on the hill above and below him burned, their windows gaping wide with rushing flame. Clouds mounted to the dark heavens above, lit from below with ruddy light. As the Tanukh had ascended the hill, they passed scattered fighting and many bodies left to lie in the streets. Now they neared the residence of Lady Roxane, and Jalal slowed. He turned a corner and stopped, raising a hand in warning. Behind him the other Tanukh came to a halt. Some of their number passed the word, even to the clansmen who had joined them in their exodus from the Quraysh quarter in the city below.
The banner had done its work, as had their war cry. The clan, apprised of the danger to their favorite son, had risen fiercely against the Hashim, and now the green turbans hunted the black through dark streets and abandoned buildings. Steady streams of people were fleeing the city through the gates left open by the departure of their Hashim guardians. Jalal peered around the corner, his face wrapped in a long green cloth. Distant fires gleamed in his eyes. A street with three great houses on it lay before him. In front of one, where a gate had been broken down, a crowd of Hashim was loitering about, talking. Torches illuminated the scene, showing indistinct lumps in the street.
Jalal signaled behind him for Shadin. The other man hurried up, a great longsword in his hands.
"There are Hashim at the gate," Jalal whispered into Shadin's ear. "Send the archers forward. Everyone else in two columns-we will go far left and far right, running to the attack. The archers will fire down the center. We must take the gate quickly."
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