The Serpent's Veil

The Gold Souk

Despite news of the rebellion spreading across the kingdom, the gold merchants did not seem deterred. Every year they flocked from far and wide, from as far as Aleppo and Palestine in the west to the Tang Empire in the east, with their cartfuls of gold crafted into all manner of wondrous marvels; the esteemed patrons of such art closely followed. Jewelry, sculptures depicting great battles and beauties of legend, decorative ornaments and trinkets, solid gold furniture, fabrics woven with gold wire threads, paintings created with powdered gold paint. Only those artisans and merchants who could certify their gold from Rey's official goldsmiths were given permits to enter the Gold Suq and display their wares. It was a task taken as piously as any pilgrimage, and done with utmost care and respect for law. No bribe could be taken by a goldsmith without their accountants reporting directly back to Firaz, such was the loyalty and discipline he had cultivated in his city since being appointed governor by Al-Mansur.

The moment Abu Musa had been executed, a wave of relief washed over the old man. Not just for the safety of the Gold Suq, but for his entire city. His first task, after cleaning up the mess left in his hall of public audience by the Prince, was to send missives to the great gold merchant families of Damascus, Baghdad, and the Tang dynasty of Sinaa, who were already en route to Rey. Some had already been on the road for more than a month, with no news of whether the city was safe or not. The least he could do was ease their worries.

After the tithes, paying the soldiers, the martyr's families, the physicians and the servants, Rey's coffers were running dry. The chests of jewels and gold brought by Rehan had completely depleted, though he had sent requests to Baghdad for more aid. The preparations for the souk, changing the layout of the centre and commissioning massive multi tiered structures and tents for the displaying of wares, temporary accommodations, stable facilities, and of course preparing the governor's residence to host diplomatic and foreign guests, was going to take enormous capital that Firaz did not currently have. All he had was promissory notes from Baghdad and pure good faith elicited from the presence of the Prince.

He tried to ignore it as he went about organising, what he did best. Everyone was made aware that their payments would only come after the souk, itself a three day event, was finished. Nevertheless, they worked with the same vigour and conviction as if they had already received their fees. Whether it was from the presence of the Prince, the end of the rebellion, or simple faith, he did not know.

As the cogs of the city turned, the Barmakis prepared for Tahir's departure. He had monitored Rehan's wounds as the days went on, and spent his additional hours healing the soldiers who had sustained grave injuries; stab wounds to the torso and abdomen, burns, poisonings, and broken limbs. Tahir had banished all the physicians from the ward, however Amina, despite the disapproval of a woman physician in a ward full of exposed male patients, was determined to shadow his healings and decipher his method. Eventually, he relented. There was little damage a single woman could do to the dynasty of the Barmakis, after all. Her mind could scarcely believe what she was seeing, even as broken bones mended themselves together and open wounds wove together without outside intervention. Each and every time she asked him, his response was the same. "Time and a prayer. Make sure you continue to take care of them after I leave."

"Can't you teach me how to do it?"

"How I wish I could, my dear." He smiled, and her cheeks warmed beneath her veil.

Now he strapped on his black steel armour and tied a keffiyeh over his face for the long desert ride home.

"Safe journey," said Rehan, clasping Tahir's arm like he would a friend. "I will see you soon."

He smiled and tilted his chin down, then looked at Sharan. "Return soon. The Vizier needs you back in court to manage the Byzantines."

Sharan smiled. Pulling a laugh from him was a miracle only God could accomplish. "There's a few people coming for the Gold Suq who I want to meet, but I will be back soon."