Forbearance

by Brianna M. Hoyle

Chapter 6

“Police! Outside of my house! Would you believe it! And it looks terrible in here!” Jalil was more flustered than a bird in a dust bath, the way he moved about in the same spot without doing anything necessarily useful. He was in a worse state than he had been the previous evening and Aminah was growing tired of it.

“Brother, will you sit down before you worry yourself into a state of baldness?” She snapped this at him and pointed to his cushion where, after only a moment of a pause to see the horror of having no hair in his mind, he took a seat.

I looked to Hakim, my feelings of misgiving evident in my eyes. I feared why they had come. What would the military want? Were they here for me? Was I, as had been jested, truly a criminal sentenced to execution, yet somehow managed to make my escape and forget who I was? I wished I had thought more on this the previous night than having simply enjoyed myself being a guest in Jalil’s house.

The night before had given a pleasant sleep, and breakfast was without incident except Jalil loudly complaining about not being able to eat from his favorite bowl. I had again joined the household as a guest, along with Hakim, who I learned often stayed with Jalil when he had business near the edge of the city. We were treated well, though again I said and ate very little. It was a comfortable atmosphere, with light-hearted banter between the servants about the missing bowls.

Aminah had asked about my actions in the raid last night to which Hakim gave a full blown flair of how I fought, though surely he could not have noticed me with as full as his hands had been fighting off the raiders himself. However, as exaggerated as the story was, the admiration in Aminah’s eyes brought a pleased blush to my face and a warm feeling to my heart, seeing a woman who I looked to in awe being impressed by something I had done.

Then a manservant had come in to announce the police having arrived, requesting that Jalil bring out the stranger he was housing. I do not know how my presence came to be known to the police, and worry began to build inside of me. Hakim saw my worry when I shakily stood to my feet and he rested a hand on my arm. “I shall come with you,” he said, and I was very grateful for his kindness. I wished I could tell him, yet no words were fitting. Aminah stood as well, unease in her gaze when she looked at me, and that is when Jalil began his frantic state of panic at the military police being outside of his door.

I turned myself to the manservant and followed him, Hakim coming along behind me as we left Jalil to his drama. Aminah would keep him from being foolish. I stepped out into the streets, seeing several mounted members of the military all positioned in a semi-circle around the front door of Jalil’s home. My keffiyeh remained in place, concealing my features, but nothing could conceal my eyes that were trembling with anxiety. I did not desire to face these people who may be here to send me to my death. Without Darioush beside me, I felt alone.

It was then that I felt the presence of Hakim behind me and knew I was not alone. I could trust him, at least.

I looked up to the man who positioned himself as leader of the group, making eye contact and holding his gaze. He returned my stare and I saw no animosity as I would expect from someone here to retrieve a prisoner. Perhaps I had assumed wrongly.

Before I could inquire as to why they wanted me, a familiar figure, mounted on yet another horse, urged his way in between the soldiers and smiled down at me. It was the young man I had rescued. Here in the sunlight, I could see him clearly, as opposed to only briefly glancing at him in the dark the previous evening. He dismounted and approached me, a crooked smile on his face and eyes that were sparkling with happiness. He was a man who had missed death by a hair’s breadth and was intent upon thanking those who had provided him such a narrow escape.

He was the same height as I, perhaps among average for a male soldier. No headpiece adorned his head, which I found odd, his hair long and braided down his back, cinched near the very end with a golden band. He wore a white shirt and a long brown vest trimmed in gold, a sash of similar color tied around his waist and holding up orange trousers. His pant legs were tucked into boots which were all the way up to his knees, made of the same dark brown and embroidered with gold. He wore leather arm guards and his left hand bore three large rings each with an emerald jewel. He was young, my age perhaps, with the long sword he had lost the previous evening now hanging from his side.

“I had hoped we would meet again,” he said cheerfully, and for a moment, I said nothing.

“This is Amirzade Nadir, son of Emir Faraj and betrothed to Princess Djamila,” the head of this military order announced.

His title seemed formal to me and I bowed in respect to his rank. “Greetings, Amirzade Nadir,” I said, hoping I was saying his title properly. My voice was quiet and cracked on his name.

Nadir laughed and I felt my ears go red, fearing I had said something wrong.

“Stand straight, my friend!” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “And show us your face! I want to express gratitude for saving my life! You are indeed a skilled warrior!”

His tone was friendly enough, but still I found myself darting my eyes toward Hakim, desiring advice on what I should do. He nodded slowly, and I turned to Nadir, removing my keffiyeh. “I did what was right, what any good person would have done in my place, my lord.” Then I bowed once more.

I remained with my head lowered, wondering briefly over how long I should remain low. No one said anything and it concerned me what the silence should be interpreted as. As it lingered, I remembered again that my gender identity was a surprise. I looked up from my bow in preparation to see disapproval, startled to see the expression on the Amirzade’s face which almost seemed to be that of bliss and excitement.

“You fight well,” he said, smiling at me in a peculiar way. “What is your name?”

I opened my mouth to speak, to explain my lack of knowledge about my name, but Hakim stepped forward.

“May I have the pleasure of introducing to you Sabriyya, my lord,” he said, resting a hand on my arm. “A cousin come to visit from a nomadic tribe.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Sabriyya,” Nadir said, showing no suspicions about the name, and he bowed to me. “I owe you my life.”

I knew not how to respond to this and again, I looked to Hakim, wondering why he had made up a name for me. He only gave me a wink, leaving me more than confused as I recalled that he and Jalil were both rascals. I now saw why they addressed each other as such.

Nadir straightened, his eyes dancing. “Would you do me the pleasure of dining in my house with my family on this evening? I desire for them to meet the strange foreigner who rescued me from certain death, as tall as a man and a warrior of might. Your cousin may join you, if you wish.”

I was frightened by this proposal. Dining in the home of an Emir? From what I recall of the conversation last night, I knew the Emir was the head of the province. And Nadir was his son, the Amirzade. What position had I, a warrior with no name, to dine with him? I could not speak, my tongue having lost its ability to form words, my mind hopeless in providing me with a response.

Again, Hakim spoke for me.

“It will be our pleasure, Amirzade Nadir,” he said with a deep bow.

Nadir’s eyes could not possibly have brightened anymore than they had. “Then I shall look forward to it!” he said with an enthusiasm that frightened me. Hakim kept his hand resting on my arm, holding me as though he was presenting his daughter to the Amirzade.

Nadir turned and once again mounted his horse. “If I may do anything for you, simply ask, and I shall provide,” he told us. He took the reins of his horse and with a wink in my direction, faced toward the rising sun in the east and trotted towards it, the military police following after him.

When they were gone, I turned on the man at my side. “Hakim, you rascal!” I declared. “What have you done?”

Hakim laughed. “Come now, Sabriyya… you simply do not deny the Amirzade an audience.”

“I do not know how to behave in the presence of an Amirzade, much less an Emir!”

Aminah approached me, smiling bright. “So the Amirzade desires an audience with you, does he?” There was a light in her eyes that worried me just as much as the twinkle in Hakim’s.

“Yes, and her cousin has been invited,” Hakim said.

Aminah laughed. “Oh, what have you done, Hakim? She’s gone terribly red!”

“Her name is Sabriyya, my cousin from a nomadic tribe visiting her family,” Hakim said, placing an arm around my shoulder.

Aminah clapped her hands. “How beautiful! Sabriyya!” she said.

I could not say anything to either of them. They were so happy for me, yet I had no idea what I was getting into. “Surely Aminah should go in my place…” I said. “She would be much more fitted in the house of the Emir.”

“Yet I was not the one who saved the life of his son,” Aminah told me. “Come, let us prepare for this evening.”

It seemed I was to not have a choice in the matter. I would dine with the Emir and his son. I felt more worried than I believe I would had they come to take my life.