The Pirates of Moonlit Bay

by Samaire Provost

  I smiled at her in delight, reaching over and squeezing her hand. “They would, I am sure of it. This beats the jugglers and jesters at court by a mile.” I turned my eyes back to the firespinner.

  “Are you going to dispatch a message to them, Miss? To let them know where you are, and that you’re safe?” Caroline asked.

  “Way ahead of you, Carrie,” I said, not taking my eyes off the firespinner. I sipped another swallow of wine. “I’ve sent messages to the queen, and to your family; they’ll know soon that we’re fine.”

  “Do you think you want to arrange travel back to Swerighe tomorrow?” she asked.

  “No,” I glanced at her. “I want to regroup and resupply and make sure the armor I purchased today fits well, and spend a few hours working with my new scimitar.” I patted the scabbard at my waist, the heavy new scimitar a reassuring weight against my leg.

  “And then?” Caroline asked.

  “And then I’m going back for Akim. And Tikiko and Pala. Tupu and I have talked, and she’s eager to free her cousins. And I am going to find Akim’s father and return him to his family,” I said, feeling determined.

  “Well, you’re going to need help,” Caroline smiled.

  “I know. There’s six of us, and Tupu says we can hire more riders and horses.” I sipped the last of my wine.

  “How many riders do you figure we’ll need to succeed?” Caroline asked.

  “Not sure, but I know the more riders we have, the easier it will be, and the less blood will be shed,” I said.

  “Very true,” Caroline breathed in deeply. “I could get very used to the incense.”

  “I love it,” I smiled.

  Kym bounced up then. “Charlotte, I heard you talking just now,” her eyes remained on the firespinner, but her words were directed at Caroline and me.

  “I think I can be of more help in a fight if I were to change back to my chimera form,” she turned to me, and looked deeply into my eyes.

  “I know you’re worried I’ll be kidnapped,” she continued. “But you have not seen how fierce I can be.” Her lower lip stuck out slightly, in a determined and adorable way.

  I smiled. “We’ll see, child. I’ll definitely consider it.”

  She smiled and hopped away to watch the firespinner up close.

  “She’s an incredible young lady,” Caroline whispered.

  “She is, isn’t she?” I had begun to think of Kym as a companion, a more-than-human friend who I’d want next to me in a fight.

  I wondered how many others of the wondrous magical creatures in this far away land were sentient and intelligent like Kym. How many might someday become my friends? My companions?

  I thought back on all our adventures since we had escaped the slavers, remembering everything, and all I had learned from each encounter. I felt deeply moved and energized to accomplish everything I planned.

  I looked over at my companions, at Kym, once again mesmerized by the twirling flames. At Christianne and Khepri, laughing together in delight at the firespinner’s antics. At Tupu, sitting mellow and content next to them. At Caroline next to me, her hand in mine.

  I felt happy. I hadn’t felt happy in a while; I’d been so busy at surviving all that I had been through. I fingered a scar on my arm, a remnant of my time spent in that stupid box at the Abdü compound.

  I’ll probably accrue more scars before I’m done, I thought ruefully, my head full of plans.

  And that was okay.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Abü

  Morning found us on the outskirts of the market, facing south. Our horses had fared well at the stables overnight, pampered and brushed out by a very appreciative groom. I smiled down at Kym’s pony, who gleamed and sported a brushed-out tail that looked like a gold waterfall.

  “Have you decided on a name for him yet?” I asked her.

  “I’m still deciding,” Kym said, smiling.

  Shêtân danced in anticipation. His coat shone like a raven’s feathers, and he snorted happily as we all readied ourselves. I patted his neck.

  “Everyone have everything? New blades? Check. Waterskins? Check.” I adjusted my new keffiyeh and clucked the stallion forward.

  We trotted across the sand in the cool morning, eager to begin our journey to retrieve Akim, Tikiko, and Pala. Before we headed back into the Abdü caliphate, we’d decided to visit Abü and take up the invitation extended by the eastern sheikh to visit.

  “We’ll be able to hire mercenaries, and rest before the onslaught,” I explained to Kym as she rode alongside me. Her pony had taken to Shêtân and Shêtân to the pony, and they were now inseparable.

  “Will they be like us?” Kym asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Will they fit in,” she waved her hands, unable to find the words.

  Ahhh.

  “Yes, I think we can find mercenaries who’ll fit in with us,” I smiled.

  It took us a day and a night before we entered the Abü caliphate, and another day before we came to the actual settlement. We topped a rise and looked down on the encampment. We halted our horses and took a minute to consider the sight. I felt my eyebrows rising.

  “It’s bigger than Abdü,” I stated. “Much bigger.”

  Khepri sidled her horse up to Shêtân. “The Abü caliphate covers five times the area of my uncle’s territory. It has three times the population, too.”

  I took a deep breath. “So, this might be easier than we thought. Or harder.”

  “Abü also has treaties with most of the adjoining caliphates, in fact, I think Abdü is the only major caliphate they do not have a treaty with,” said Khepri.

  “What can you tell me about the sheikh of Abü?” I asked Khepri.

  “I am not sure. I have never met them, and my uncle avoided their territory at all costs.” She shifted on her saddle. “I do not get the idea my uncle was happy with sheikh Abü, but I cannot tell you why.”

  Tupu spoke up from behind us. “I have heard tales of the generosity of Abü, as well as the ruthlessness. They acquired a massive territory through the spoils of conflict, that much I know. But that ended with the last sheikh, I believe. At least eighty years ago. The new ruler instituted the treaties after that.” She raised her eyebrows and made a face.

  “Since the sheikh has extended the offer of hospitality, pre-empting any conflict by the use of the term ‘honoured guests,’ I have high hopes of a positive outcome, if not the assumption of one” Khepri added. “We can never be too careful, of course.”

  “Well, no use just sitting here,” I clucked Shêtân forward, and we made our way down the dune and across the sand.

  When we were several hundred yards from the entrance, a group of ten riders rode out to meet us.

  At their head was Kadeem.

  He rode in front and came to a stop ten feet in front of us. Bowing slightly, waving his hand in an intricate fashion, he greeted us.

  “Welcome, Princess Charlotte. You are most welcome to Abü. Your presence honours us.”

  Khepri whispered next to me, “Interesting. That hand gesture he just performed is auspicious.”

  I whispered back, “What do you mean?” to Khepri, then smiled toward Kadeem and held up a hand, asking him to wait.

  “Usually one would make a hand gesture to ward off evil spirits, or bad luck. This glyph appeared to be one of benediction, as if they wish a benefit from our presence,” Khepri said. “Very curious.”

  “So, it’s good? Right?” I looked at her.

  “Yyyyes, in a way,” she said in a bemused tone.

  Well, here goes.

  I rode forward. As rehearsed the night before, I spoke.

  “As a representative of the kingdom of Swerighe, I, Princess Charlotte, with my troupe,” here I waved my hand to indicate all six of us, “am here to accept the offer extended by the Abü caliphate to receive us as honoured guests.” I bowed my head briefly, then faced Kadeem again, my chin slightly raised, waiting.

  K
adeem smiled and nodded, then turned his horse and led the way into the Abü compound.

  We passed through the encampment and looked curiously at everything we passed. The residents of the compound regarded us with deep curiosity as well, and I realized our diverse band must have been a rare sight. Shêtân snorted and held his head high, acting regal and proud, as if he knew these people were watching him with awe. I smiled.

  We disembarked, and a handful of grooms rushed up to take our horses from us, assuring us they’d get the best of care. Glancing around, I felt strangely at ease. Well, that’s good, I guess. Still, I would be suspicious until I met the sheikh. Khepri had indicated that a caliphate took its demeanor and attitude from its sheikh. I hoped this one was a virtuous one.

  We entered the royal tent and made our way to the front throne. As we approached, my eyes widened at all the people gathered there. We approached the sheikh together, as a team. Kadeem had already entered and led us to the throne, his airy thawb robes fluttering wide as he strode purposefully forward, then turned and took his place at the right hand of the leader of the Abü caliphate. The people in the large tent had obscured our sight of the sheikh at first, and then Kadeem’s robes had blocked our view. But as he took his place at the sheikh’s side, I realized this caliphate would be different. Because what greeted my eyes was not a sheikh, but a sheikha.

  She was old, with wrinkles that lined her face and hands. Her hair was mostly silver, with dark threads tracing through it, and it fell in waves down her shoulders. She wore a light, honey colored, filmy keffiyeh atop her head, and her matching thawb was silken and woven through with accenting gold thread, highlighting the lighter, translucent honey color.

  Her eyes were a piercing violet, similar in color to Tupu’s eyes, so much so that I glanced at my friend beside me, then back again. Her skin was a deep mahogany brown, and honestly, she reminded me most of a very old, very wise ancient tree.

  She smiled knowingly at me and, as I approached her, it almost felt as though she were reading my thoughts. Her gaze was filled with strength and clarity, and held my attention like nothing else I’d encountered.

  She reached out her old, gnarled hand, and I noticed it was steady as a rock as I took it with my own hand, and knelt in front of her. I bowed my head in respect.

  I felt her lean forward and lift my chin with her finger, and I lifted my eyes to meet hers.

  “Child, you have come,” the sheikha said in a near whisper. “Welcome to my home, Princess Charlotte. Welcome, to all of you.” She lifted her head and her arms rose as if to embrace all of us. “Your coming has been foretold, and I greet you all with great joy.”

  I felt my throat close up in awe at her words. How did she …?

  At her benediction, Caroline, Christianne, Tupu and Khepri came forward and knelt beside me, unable to resist the sheikha’s words. I felt Kym behind me, holding back.

  “Little one, come! Come forward and let me hold your hand,” the sheikha beckoned to Kym.

  “I … I am afraid,” Kym said in a small voice.

  “My dear,” the sheikha rose off her throne and came forward, “Such a magnificent creature as you has nothing to fear from me. I am but an old lady, with little other than wisdom to impart. Come here, child,” she reached out her hand.

  Kym took the wrinkled, nut-brown hand and smiled. The sheikha led her back to the throne and sat her down on a cushion next to the grand chair, then sat back down herself.

  I found myself feeling inexplicably happy, and my voice returned. “Your highness,” I began.

  “Child, call me Abü, simply … Abü,” the sheikha smiled, and her face broke into a thousand more wrinkles.

  I could not help myself, I smiled back.

  “Abü,” I looked into her eyes, and she smiled and nodded. “May I ask some questions?”

  “Of course, Princess,” Abü answered.

  “How do you know …?” my voice trailed off.

  “About Kym?” Abü asked.

  I nodded.

  “I know by her smell, and her eyes,” the sheikha whispered.

  I must protect Kym better, I had no idea people could tell …

  Abü held up a finger. “I don’t think others can see,” she explained.

  I felt puzzled.

  Abü gestured to Kadeem beside her, and he leaned forward. “Kadeem, can you tell me anything about her?” She indicated Kym.

  Kadeem looked down at the girl, then back up at his sheikha. “I see an inquisitive little girl, a precocious child.” He stood back.

  “Nothing more?” Abü asked him.

  Kadeem blinked, looking back down at Kym, then back up at his sheikha. “I see the hint of bravery and strength, and determination.”

  Abü turned back to me. “What he sees, I see, but I can see the degree to which it extends.” She smiled at Kym. “I can also smell a lion’s mane,” her smile broadened.

  Kym giggled. I smiled.

  She stood again, and gestured to all of us. She had a way of spreading her arms out in wide arcs, and the movement made me feel happy and welcomed and included in whatever she said next.

  “Come!” Abü declared loudly. “You must all be road weary. I have quarters and baths for you to use, and we can all talk more at our evening meal!”

  Servants rushed up and gently but firmly led us away down a side hallway.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Key of Azurethene

  That evening, we found ourselves seated in a large room, at a long table laden with every manner of food available in Alkebulan: from sweet meats and spiced lamb, to candied dates, pickled hearts of palm, and sliced nut-encrusted goat cheese. Our faces were freshly scrubbed, and the dust of the ride had been washed away.

  I smelled like jasmine flowers.

  The baths we’d been offered had oils and blossoms floating in them, and I had never enjoyed such a luxurious experience. Abü had supplied maidens to help us, and the softest natural sponges I’d ever seen. There had even been a harpist in the corner, strumming quietly. I’d actually fallen asleep for a minute in the bath.

  As we ate, Abü regaled us with story after story of adventures she’d had in her youth. The wine flowed freely, the laughter was loud, and the tent grew warm, and as the night wore on, my stomach began to feel nauseated.

  I excused myself, pausing to whisper in Khepri’s ear to protect Kym, and headed outside for some fresh air.

  I felt exhausted. I hadn’t realized it, but I’d been tense during the last two days, my stomach often clenched, and feel a sense of expectation, of anticipation, because of our plans. I passed through the tent flap and into the cool night air. Breathing deeply, I tried to relax.

  I thought of Akim. I had no idea where in the Abdü compound to search for him.

  Do I search quietly, in the shadows, or do I demand to know where he’s been taken? How do I play this? Which way would give me the greatest chance of success?

  Where would they take a small boy? The kitchens? The stables? The warrior’s tent to train as a guard?

  I realized Tikiko and Pala would’ve probably been taken to the maid’s quarters. They’d probably been put to work doing laundry or food preparation, I thought.

  I closed my eyes and took a few more deep breaths, feeling my stomach calm down.

  I opened my eyes and lifted them to the night sky, which shown a deep blue-black inky indigo. The stars shown brilliantly in the expanse, so many of them. I felt happy and calm looking at them. Such a vast expanse. My troubles seemed smaller compared to the night sky.

  I spent nearly an hour watching the starry night sky before finally ducking back through into the dining tent. By then many of the guests had left. My troupe was still there, though, gathered around Abü.

  I sat back down and picked up my cup, drinking deeply. The wine ran gently down my throat, and I focused on the conversation.

  “Princess Charlotte, I hope you are feeling a bit better now?” Abü asked, reaching for my hand to sq
ueeze.

  I hadn’t realized my absence had been noticeable, but I guess it was understandable.

  “Oh, goodness, if I am to call you Abü then please, you may call me Charlotte, no need for formalities.” I took a deep breath. “Yes, the fresh air cleared up my stomachache,” I smiled and patted my belly. “The rich food was delicious, but I have grown accustomed to a simpler fare.”

  “Of course, my dear,” Abü smiled.

  “Charlotte, you are never going to believe what Abü told us,” Kym said excitably.

  “What did Abü tell you?” I smiled at the little girl.

  Kym looked at the sheikha expectantly, and the old woman began to speak.

  “Charlotte, your presence in Alkebulan has been foretold for ages. Since before I was born, even. The stories are a part of our heritage, the fables told from mother to child, for a dozen generations,” said Abü.

  I blinked.

  “What?” I asked, helplessly.

  All my friends began speaking at once, and I could not make out what each was saying. Khepri shushed everyone, and took my hand in hers.

  “Charlotte, the priests and magicians have told of a legend about a royal princess from a far away land to the north. A princess with blond hair and green eyes. That’s you!” Khepri sat back, a smile on her face.

  “No, okay, now listen to me: I am not the only blonde in the world, and I’m certainly not the only princess to come to Alkebulan, for goodness’ sake.” They all stared at me. Oh, for gods’ sake …

  “Look …” I tried again.

  “My dear, listen to me,” Abü said quietly. Everyone went still.

  “The Imam Khatibs, our priests and clerics and wizards, have all been foretelling the arrival of an emerald-eyed, golden-tressed princess from the northern lands, who will be the catalyst for opening an ancient tomb,” Abü said.

  “This ancient tomb is said to be full of riches never before seen in our land. Riches beyond anyone’s imagining.” Abü sat back. She looked at me from her wizened old face, her eyebrows raised expectantly.