The Upside
Chapter 3
He wasn't quite certain why he was making this visit, and that made him frown. He told himself it was simply to ascertain himself she was well, but part of him insisted it was more important than that.
Nassar, beyond pleased to be introduced to someone of the legendary stables, rode next to him, wondering aloud if there were possibilities for a continuing exchange of bloodlines. The others had left to go to the market or to race camels elsewhere in the camp.
The Imtiyaz group had dwindled to perhaps fifteen men; the brothers, some of their sons, and a few male relatives. With them stood representatives of one of the other large stables, clearly men they long knew.
"KhamA!"
Growing impatient with the proceedings, the grey horse twisted and turned on the leadline. Abdul-Jalil was already standing a horselength away from the others to give the horse space to move, but clearly it grated him. When he saw Ardeth and Nassar approach, he greeted them joyously.
"Ah, you have come!" then, to his older brother: "Umayyad, meet the man who avenged your son. This is Ardeth Bay, of the Medjai."
The man who turned his horse to look at Ardeth reminded him painfully of his own father. The same eyes, lined with the weight of leadership, and the same hands, knuckles by age and a hard life, but still full of strength.
Ardeth bowed from the saddle, recognising a great man when he saw one.
"And for that I thank you," Umayyad spoke gravely. "For when he did not return, we had little hope in finding even his body. That you have done so, gave him a proper burial and avenged him, lightens my heart."
Ardeth bowed again in recognition of this praise.
"I am glad I have been able to be of assistance, though it does little to lift the burden of your grief."
Abdul-Jalil, who seemed to think this was enough graveness for the moment, pressed his horse forward and introduced Nassar with a flourish.
"And this, brothers, is Nassar, the breeder of the Medjai. I have seen the many fine beasts they own and say it would be wise to consider trade relations with him!"
Ardeth saw men nod as they assessed the horses he and Nassar rode, and when one of them called out that he had planned to seek them out at some point, he knew he could leave this to Nassar.
Soon he was riding in a wide arch around the groups of riders, all three horses pleased to stretch their legs.
"You are certain Ester will wish to speak with me?" Ardeth called to be heard over the rushing wind.
"If she does not, I am certain she will let you know!" the man called back. "But she has been saddened of late, your visit might cheer her!"
Unsure if to ask about the reason for this sadness, Ardeth said nothing. He did not want to give her family the impression there was anything inappropriate between them by asking intimate questions. However Abdul-Jalil reined in his horses and rode close enough for them to speak.
"She was to marry in four days, but her betrothed has made it known he wishes to lower the faridah."
Ardeth winced, recognising this for the hurtful and shaming move it was. Faridah, or mahr, was an agreed-upon gift of the husband to the bride, to be given at the wedding and to hers alone, so that she might start her married life with property or possession of her own. These gifts could be money, livestock, clothes or property. In families of wealth and status the faridah would often be high, asked by a woman to be paid by the man she chose.
That the marriage had been planned meant that they had come to an agreement about it.
Faridah gave a woman a measure of independence from her new husband. It showed that the husband willingly took responsibility for his new bride and future family. It also displayed status and appreciation. If a man gave his bride a great gift as faridah, he showed his status in his ability to do this, as well as his appreciation for what she brought to his house.
If one wished to lower a previously agreed-upon faridah, that was a slap in the face of the woman and her family, displaying a clear lowering of esteem for her and what she brought to his house.
"Publicly?" he asked in disbelief.
"Indeed, on the first day of the Races."
"That is cruel indeed."
Sometimes the family of a woman would negotiate about faridah, though in the end it fell to her to agree or decline. To announce the wish to lower faridah during the course of negotiations was painful enough – to announce it in public, on an event such as this, could easily destroy a woman's reputation.
"Yes. I have counselled my brother to refuse. Ester is better off unmarried than with someone who would shame her so."
"I would agree! If he does not value her to give what they agreed upon, that hardly bodes well for the union."
Abdul-Jalil nodded fervently, and Ardeth felt his heart warm to the man. He not only cared for his niece's reputation, but moreover for her happiness.
"I never did care for the match. Sahir will smother her, reduce her to a shade of herself..." he shook his head sombrely, then added: "She agreed to it though."
As they approached the camp, vibrant drumming music came floating on the breeze, and the man's mood shifted in another mercurial change.
"Ah! But that is a welcome sound! They have gathered at last."
Four guards bowed to them as they entered the Imtiyaz camp. It was a cheerfully unorganised maze of makeshift corrals, tents and awnings. Slender dogs napped in tent entrances, and in the middle of an open space glowed the remnants of a fire, surrounded by many kettles.
"I will put away this fellow here," Abdul-Jalil called, indicating his troublesome charge. "Ester will be with the music, I will join you shortly!"
Surprised that he was free to wander in their camp, Ardeth dismounted and tethered his horse. The music that vibrated the camp shifted of rhythm, the doholla settling its typical deep voice into a slow, powerful counterpoint beat. As he walked to the large tent from whence it came, a second drummer joined in, the sharper sounds of a higher-voiced tabla making the beat more energetic.
The driving rhythm emanating from the tent made his fingers drum along, his body adhering to the beat without his command.
The first drummer paused and the tabla thrummed so fast the air near hummed with sound. Rousing cries drove it up yet faster, and then with one great "hey!" it stopped completely. The deeper sound of the doholla took over without pause and quickly sped up, as if the two players challenged one another.
The sharp, high sound of the tabla joined in once again, and now the two drummers climbed together, pushing one another higher and higher until the camp reverberated with the sound.
The tent was open on the side facing into the camp, and when it came into view, he stopped in shock.
Looking around the tentflaps he found only women inside, outer robes and veils shed such as they would go among their own family. He retreated immediately, but in that brief glimpse his breath was taken away. Three young women danced an energetic, shimmying dance to the drums, handclaps and calls, but he had no eyes for them.
In the entrance of the tent sat Ester, double tabla held between her knees, and her hands moved so fast they were a blur. Sweat beaded on her face. Damp hair shaken back, face turned op and eyes closed, she abandoned herself to the primal power of rhythm, and he had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.
Back behind the tent that shielded the women from his sight Ardeth took several deep breaths, trying to get his suddenly racing heart under control. It was a sight clearly not meant for his eyes, yet he felt shockingly tempted to look again.
Before, once he had realised his interest upset her somehow, he had banished every thought of her that would not have befitted a sister. Seeing her near panic when he told her the laws declared them married had convinced him there was no way the union could work. She was simply too traumatised.
Now he realised that the person he had come to know was not all that she was. After some time to recover from her ordeal she was no longer the brittle victim he knew, but a joyously, vibrantly alive woman. Much as he tried, he could no longer see a sister in her.
He turned around to leave, but just as he was about to search Abdul-Jalil, the music came to a crescendo of ululating cries, drums thrumming staccato until one great "HAY!" ended it. He stood for a long moment listening to the laughter and compliments, glad beyond words that Ester's fears of being outcast by her family had not come true. The outside world may be unkind to her, betrothed included, but within this camp she seemed to be able to feel at ease.
"Salaam 'alaykum wa raHmat allâhi wa barakaatu," he heard behind him. Turning back with a start, he found himself face to face with Ester.
She had gained some weight, he noted with approval. She had quickly put on an abaya and veil as was proper when meeting a man not of one's own family, and the long garment showed some curves that had not been there before. Her dark hair was covered by a loose veil, but a slightly damp curl sprang loose by her right ear. Her breath was quickened, and there was a smile about her lips.
He wondered if he could be the cause of that, or if the music session had cheered her so. To his own surprise, he found he rather wished it was the first.
"Wa 'alaykum is salaam, Ester Imtiyaz Il Fernández," he replied formally, taking both her hands and bowing over where they met. He was pleased to find there was no hesitance in her touch. Over-warm from the drumming, her hands were decorated with elaborate henna patterns.
"I am pleased to see you are well."
She smiled, but he thought it didn't quite reach her eyes. When he released her hands she invited him with a gesture to follow her to a comfortable seating area under a large awning. A lanky, bronze-coated dog slept stretched out among the pillows, her three young pups yipping excitedly as the two of them arrived.
"Please sit, and I shall find us some tea. Do not hesitate to send the dogs away if they bother you."
She left, and Ardeth observed that she had brought him to what appeared to be the main social area of the camp. A very public place, in plain view of any who cared to look.
He sat down, smiling as the pups crowded in to lick his hands and smell his clothes. The Medjai kept few dogs; there simply wasn't always meat to feed them, and he was ill-inclined to have packs of starving beasts around the camp, fending for themselves. Only Nassar had a couple in the base camp to help guard the herds.
After some minutes Ester returned with a basket. She smiled when she saw him play with the pups, a true, tender smile this time. While she settled down on the cushions next to him, Abdul-Jalil appeared also. Having changed into plain robes, the man settled down under an awning that offered clear sight of theirs, but wasn't so close that he would overhear.
Ardeth nodded in approval. A chaperone reduced the chance of people speaking ill of his visit. He supposed that those who wished to speak ill would do so anyway, but he would not wish to add to her troubles.
Ester poured tea, her movements graceful and routined. She was clearly an experiences hostess, accustomed to receive guests in the grand style of her family.
"That was an impressive drumming session," he said, looking for a way to start a conversation. "Will there be a performance at some point?"
She shook her head.
"We dance and drum only for ourselves. It would not be proper to be seen."
He had to admit the boundaries of modesty were breached by the abandon the women had shown. Perhaps that was the attraction of it; he could not imagine she had many opportunities to let herself go in that manner. Still he wished he would be able to watch one day.
"With my people men and women dance and sing together," he smiled.
She looked wistful at that idea.
"I wish we did not have to hide while we celebrate, but at least we are able to do so at all."
She watched with a smile as the pups played tug of war with a scrap of cloth, then suddenly changed the subject.
"Forgive me, I have not even asked after the health of your family! How fares your mother? The men who were wounded in the taking of that old city?"
"Mother is well; she sends her greetings. She was most impressed with you, did you know that?"
Ester shook her head.
"She said she had not thought someone not raised in the desert could have survived such an ordeal."
She clearly didn't know how to reply to that sort of praise, so he continued:
"The wounded are well. Nasir and Jawad ride with the patrol once again, Ghalib is training to regain full control of his arm, and Hisham has just started to ride again. Bahir is still regaining his strength, but he is also on the mend."
"That is a relief. I would feel terrible if anyone was permanently damaged because of me."
He shook his head.
"Never believe you are the cause of their wounds. It was I who gave the orders for the attack; that weight is upon my shoulders. Sooner or later we would have eradicated them in any case; finding you simply brought us upon their tracks at that time."
She nodded, but he could tell she did not completely believe she was blameless in the matter. In a way that pleased him; it was the sign of a leader to take responsibility for those around them.
"And how have you recovered?"
"My leg has healed for the most part, though it is not yet as comfortable as before. Our healer says that will pass with time."
She looked to the ground.
"The memories... they are fading."
She did not look as if they had stopped plaguing her though, and he wondered if her upcoming wedding had anything to do with that. However that was a far to intimate path of conversation to take, and he let the matter rest.
"I have to say I am curious," she confessed after a long moment, "What brought you to the races?"
"Your uncle convinced me it would be enjoyable and profitable for trade," she said. "Also the council of Elders deemed it an occasion for me to seek a lady-wife."
He watched her face carefully while he spoke those words, but could not identify the emotion that briefly coloured her face.
"Speaking of the council, they wish it known that they have released you. I have an official writ, if you wish it."
She shook her head. "I would worry anyone found it. It is a relief though."
"For you are now able to marry Sahir?"
Her face fell suddenly, and he regretted bringing the subject up. It clearly didn't please her to think of it.
"I do not yet know if that will happen. He lowered the faridah, you see..."
He nodded. "Your uncle told me of it," he said gently.
"I expect his mother heard of my... adventure... and encouraged him to it."
"One who loved you would not have acted so, regardless of what his mother dictated," Ardeth said, unwilling to give the man the benefit of the doubt. Unexpectedly, Ester's temper turned.
"You speak highly of marriage out of love, yet that is not as common with your people as you would have me believe. Have you never been in a situation where any escape, imperfect as it may be, was more attractive than remaining where you were?"
Her eyes flashed with ire, and Ardeth realised that in the end, she was simply dealing with life as it came, without lofty dreams of perfection.
He inclined his head briefly. "I apologise for my intrusion. It is not my place to judge your decisions. It was my wish to see you happy that made me speak so."
Mollified, her face softened, and he was acutely reminded of the similarity to her mercurial family.
She let out a long sigh, seeming small and very lost all of a sudden. He felt the unspeakably powerful urge to hold her, stroke her back, feel her head come to rest against his shoulder.
Once she had accepted that, welcomed it even. Now, though she seemed far more at ease with him, it was impossible. The limits of what he could do were set by decorum, and he already knew that these people took decorum very seriously indeed.
He clenched his hands, reminding himself that they were being watched and that any impropriety on his part would bring her into trouble. That did not take away the powerless feeling he experienced when seeing her so downcast.
One of the pups caught hold of the edge of his robe and tugged experimentally. Not wishing to see his formal robes victim to the sharp teeth, he picked up the pup and set it down between Ester and him to tickle it. Wiggling excitedly, it bounded out of his grasp and toward Ester, where it licked her hands, little tail wagging as if on a spring.
A smile broke through her sombre mood, and Ardeth silently thanked the pup for doing what he could not. She took it in her lap and lavished attention on it.
"I apologise," she said after a time, idly stroking the pup. "The decision to accept or refuse the new offer has not yet been made. It will depend on if Uncle Umayyad Kalifah is willing to let me remain in his household."
"A difficult time for you, then," he nodded his understanding. "Forgive me for causing you to dwell on it. I came to raise your spirits, not lower them!"
"Well then! Tell me of your quest for a lady wife!" she abruptly put her gloominess aside. "Has anyone caught your eye?"
She sounded like his sister all of a sudden, but there was a hint of forcedness in her smile.
"No. The council may wish me to look, but I do not think that I will find her here." Not wishing to dwell on this subject, he continued "However there are more reasons to enjoy this event. We will race tomorrow, both horses and camels, and there are many interesting merchants to provide my people with a veritable flood of items they do not normally have access to."
He smiled when her interest was piqued.
"What races are you participating?"
"Mile and half-mile for full-grown stallions. I will race Athir myself on the mile."
"Amable participates on the mile, under my cousin Amjad. It will be interesting to see them face off!"
"It will indeed. Will we get the chance to see Khamaseen also?"
"We have entered him into the half-mile race, but I am not yet sure who will ride… He becomes so very difficult that I am uncertain if my leg will stand it."
The conversation drifted into the comfortable territory of horses, breeding, racing customs in regarding to horses and customs in general, in
It wasn't until he saw from the corner of his eye that Abdul-Jalil rose from his seating place, that he realised the visit had lasted for the better part of the afternoon.
"My lady, I must take my leave of you now," he smiled, and she seemed as surprised as he was by how much time had passed. He reached for her hands, and she gave them easily, clearly expecting him to bow over them. Instead he brought them up to his lips, and brushed a kiss over the knuckles of each. Her eyes widened and he thought he felt a surprised breath brush past his ear.
He released her hands and straightened up.
"I wish you strength for the decisions that must come. Misa il khayr."
With that he left for his own camp.
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Salaam 'alaykum wa raHmat allâhi wa barakaatu – greetings, and the mercy of God and his blessings.
Misa il khayr – good afternoon/evening.
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The Upside – Chapter 4 (coming soon)