I have no name; for I am only memory severed from you.
— Vicente Aleixandre
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Him
She's at the bazaar again, and so is he. Over the past few months he has committed to remembrance the days of the week he can find her here most often, and if his luck favors him, all the other locations he can have a chance encounter with her. Unlike in their childhood when they would spend most of their days together, circumstances are unfavorable now.
Back in time when her parents were part of the palace, they were living in Baghdad. He can still recall the days he had spend with her as clear as the brilliant midday sun in the sky. She was a curious child, chatty back then, chasing around everyone in the palace, unlike how she's now-- unlike how he has grown to learn of her in this time around her.
He watches her pick up an ornament from one of the stalls. She holds it up, staring at the elegant piece of jewelry, a golden chain hanging in the air, before putting it back down and walking away.
Slowly and subtly, he goes to the same stall once she's away, picking up the jewelry she was eyeing.
"How much for this piece?"
Her
"Who is Al Shafay, dayi (uncle)?"
"There are a lot of rumors as answers to that question. Why do you ask, dukhtar (daughter)?"
"I was curious as to who actually is the Khalifa."
The old man hums. "I wish I could give you a definite answer to your query, but everyone has their own theories, and they're many in number. So all these rumors have ever done is mislead the people. What we do know is that he's an unknown man ruling this kingdom, and that his identity is kept a secret to avoid stirring anymore riot than this land has already seen."
Noura pours the tea in the teacups and places one in front of her uncle. Her mother has invited her brother over to their house now when he's in good state of health. While she's busy preparing lunch in the kitchen, Noura converses with him over a topic she never had taken much interest in before-- not until finding the caliph's seal. Now, the Khalifa is all that's on her mind.
"What's your theory?" she asks her uncle.
"Well," he picks up the tea cup, "after the death of caliph Khalid ibn Al Malik, the caliph your father spent his whole life serving, a group of rebels rose for the throne. The then governor of Qahira, Marwan, who was also the brother-in-law of the caliph, proposed that since he was married to the sister of the caliph, and that the caliph's sons were not skilled enough to rule yet, he should be declared as the Khalifa." He pauses to take a sip of his tea. "Of course that didn't happen, and Yusuf, the caliph's eldest son who was only sixteen back then, proved his worth by overcoming that rebellion and defeating his uncle for the title. Thus, he became the Khalifa."
"And during the second rebellion?" she inquires eagerly, desperate to quench the sizzling thirst within for the man who's most worthy possession is in her hands.
"When Yusuf became the caliph, he changed the kingdom's law from brother succeeding brother to son succeeding father. This didn't sit well with Sulaiman, the only surviving brother of Yusuf from the battle, and he started a treason against him. Now rumors run that during the second rebellion, caliph Yusuf died but Sulaiman couldn't take his place. Although no one found the caliph's body, and there has only been a namely burial for him. You see, that's where the theories come in."
"Ah, I understand how twisted it is. I just never read as much into it before."
"Well, many claim that Khalifa Yusuf never died, and that Al Shafay is only a regnal name he's using to protect his throne. Others say that he did die, and that his son who's yet too young to rule is protected by the council and is ruling under the title until he reaches the age of maturity. And lastly, there are still people suggesting that Al Shafay could be someone else entirely, probably someone from the court of Yusuf, ruling in hiding so as to protect the throne from prince Sulaiman. Now you ask me for my theory," a glimmer traces the rim of his orbs, "there was a lot of bloodshed during treason-- the caliph and the princes could all have died. Which would mean that Al Shafay could be an unlawful heir of the throne, and so he has never revealed himself."
Noura stares down at her reflection in the teacup. The image wavers over the surface as her hands shake slightly and she has to put down the cup. She has the caliph's seal-- that thing can wreck lives and bring ruination to the kingdom if someone finds it and misuses it. Keeping it hidden in her pillowcase is not very cautious. But it's going to be two weeks now and she's unsure of what to with it. Until Eskander returns and she gives it to him, there's no other way for her to march to the palace gates and hand it over to the Khalifa herself. It can put her own life at stake.
But who was the man she saw that evening and why did he have the caliph's seal is beyond her comprehension. Though what puzzles her more is the need for him to steal her pendant and leave the seal with her. The only explanation she can think of is a thief who somehow got his hands on the seal, then to save himself of the consequences he discarded it and stole her gold pendant in the opportunity that arose. Now, she's the one left to deal with the mess.
"Eskander has been telling you stories from the palace to intrigue you?"
Noura looks up at the question from her uncle. She smiles and shakes her head. "No, you know he hardly ever talks of the palace and his life there. The most he tells me about are his journeys to different places and stories from the battlefields."
"Has he also been teaching you how to swing a sword?"
"Yes, but I still need a lot of practice. I've never once tackled him."
An amused chuckles comes from the old man. "He's Teymour's son. His father was the best swordsman of caliph Khalid. I can expect nothing less of Eskander."
Her heart swells with a feeling too hard to describe. She allows it to be nameless; she knows affection begets bliss in many forms. Certainly Eskander is the best. Not that she has been in battlefields or seen many swordsmen duel, but if the caliph has chosen him to be the general of his army, then he must excel all.
Her uncle places the now empty teacup on the tray and Noura offers to refill it. He politely declines and she picks her own her cup to her lips.
"When is he coming home again?"
"He didn't say anything, but I hope soon," she replies to her uncle and he nods.
"Your brother is a good man, Noura."
The comment makes a sore wound within her chest and she tries to mask its ache behind a feigned smile. He's not her brother. Maybe once upon a time when she was naive, she considered him one. But both of them have grown up and their attitude towards each other isn't the same. Eskander might not reciprocate her feelings, or he could be concealing them like her. She hopes for the latter. But in any case, she's sure for him she isn't a sister anymore either.
The knocking at the front door of the house interrupts her musing. Before she could get up, her mother appears from the kitchen and gestures for her to keep sitting. She goes to receive whoever is at the door. There is an exchange of greetings, and then there is a male's voice speaking. She cannot hear what he's saying, but she can tell his tone is formal and taut. A few minutes later, her mother enters the sitting room with a worried expression on her face.
"Who's there, maman (mama)?" Noura asks.
"Guards," she replies anxiously, "from the palace."
Her heart instantly stops beating as if clutched in a claw with excruciating force. She feels the hair on her neck stand up in apprehension. She fears the reason of them here is the same as her doubt, which she doesn't want to be confirmed.
"Guards?" Her uncle frowns. "What for?"
"A spy in the palace has stolen the caliph's seal and they're searching every house for it."
Her palms moisten and her body covers in cold sweat. She licks her suddenly parched lips and tries to steady her nerves. Her uncle stands up. She quickly gets to her feet too.
"But if a spy has stolen the seal, why don't they look for him than searching up every house for the seal?" he reasons. "It makes no sense to search up an entire kingdom for a small thing than looking for the culprit."
"I don't know, dadash (brother). I told them we're hiding no one or nothing here but they insist on searching the house," her mother says. "They're waiting at the door."
They know.
A voice inside her head screams. They know where the seal is. There's no way guards from the palace would come all the way from Baghdad to Isfahan looking for a small item, and coincidentally appear at their door. Even if they search every house in the kingdom, the probability of them ending up at the exact location of the seal within two weeks doesn't settle fine with her.
"Let me talk to them," her uncle suggests and her mother follows him to the door.
Noura urgently rushes to her room. With trembling hands, she takes the seal out of the pillowcase. After unsuccessful attempts of her mind to suggest a better hiding place, she tucks it in her waist-sash. The voices outside grow louder and she leaves her room. From behind the wall of the sitting room, she peeks at the men standing at the threshold of her house.
"We've gotten orders from the Ameer to search the place," one of the guards speaks. "We mean no harm. If the seal is not here, we leave without causing you anymore trouble than this. Cooperate with us and allow us to do our duty."
"Who Ameer?" her uncle asks.
"Ameer Zakariya, the grand vizier."
Noura swallows painfully, praying desperately to God to be saved somehow. Then, her mother mentions Eskander to the guards and a ray of hope blesses her heart. Maybe they'll be lenient and believe the seal cannot be here. After all, they cannot just break into the house of the general and search it, disregarding and disrespecting his position.
"General Eskander Teymour?" the guards utters with surprise. "This is his house?"
"Yes, and I've a young daughter inside. I cannot allow a group of men to break in," her mother reasons.
"Commander," the guard calls to someone, and another man enters her sight within seconds. He's tall with a broad chest, long hair made in a braid, and sharp, unforgiving eyes. Noura instantly hears warning bells in her ears. "This is general Eskander's house," the guard tells his commander.
The man's eyebrows twitch up in surprise and a sly smile pulls up his lips to one side. "Eskander?" He then produces a scroll case from his belt and holds open a scroll in front of her mother and uncle. "I'm Muawwiz ibn Al Jarrah, the royal guard of Ameer Zakariya ibn Al Hakam. I've received orders to search this house for the caliph's seal. It has come to our knowledge that it is where the seal is."
"But how can we have the seal? We're no thieves," her uncle argues.
"That is yet to be seen," the man, Muawwiz, retorts. He gestures for his men to enter their house with the protests of her family falling on deaf ears.
Afterwards, everything becomes a blur. The men cast around every nook of the house relentlessly. Noura watches them create havoc as they hunt for the seal, but don't find it. When they've tired themselves, their attention turns to the residents of the house. She has been standing in a corner all this while as the scene unfold. Muawwiz fixes her with his hawk like gaze, for the first time their eyes connecting, and the warning bells grow louder in her head.
"Come here."
The earth slips from beneath her feet at his command. Her mother clasps her wrist and pushes her behind herself. "You won't touch my daughter," she spits.
"I only take orders from my Ameer, syeda (madam)." He directs to his men, "Search them up too." He then turns towards her again. "Come here, girl."
Noura doesn't budge, and her uncle steps forward. Before another second could escalate, Muawwiz unsheaths his sword and holds it towards them. "Move!" he barks.
Within seconds, her mother and uncle are dragged away from her; their shouts bounce off the walls of the small space. The man marches towards her and she instinctively steps away. Her hand immediately looks for her dagger but it's not strapped to her waistband. She feels out of the options and doomed.
"Argh!" Noura attacks him with her bare hands when he reaches for her. But he effortlessly catches her fists his grip, pushes her back against the wall, and smirks down at her. She growls at him in frustration.
He sheaths his swords and without wasting anymore time, starts searching her body for the seal. She shrinks away from his touch but to no avail. And then, his hands presses to her waist. He pauses to feel the item beneath her sash and her soul shudders in fear of what is to come. Without a word, he rips off the sash from her body and the seal drops to the floor with a clink. Noura realizes her world has collapsed.
Muawwiz releases her and kneels down to pick it up. He studies it as if to make sure he has found exactly what he was looking for, then lifts his eyes to hers again. He stares at her with accusation and she fails to form words in her defense.
"I d-didn't," Noura stutters and turns towards her mother, left completely defenseless, and finds her family stunned and in a state of disbelief. "I didn't steal it," she manages to utter.
In the next moment, whatever is left of the life in her is stripped away as the commander lifts her over his shoulder like a straw doll. A sense of shock paralyzes her before she can interpret what is happening. She hears her mother scream.
"Don't take away my daughter!"
Noura gasps, as if trying to take any breath she can find to save herself. They're taking her away from her home. A terror seizes her throat and she chokes. She slams her fists hard against the man's back.
"No! Let go of me!"
She hits him again and again but he heedlessly carries her out of the house. Her mother and uncle run after her but the other guards hold them down.
"Shame on you bastards," her uncle curses at the men. "Release the girl."
Noura witnesses the horror settling and the sheer agony and fright on her mother's face-- her crying, begging.
"I didn't steal the seal!" she yells and hits the man again. He pays her no mind and throws her over a horse before mounting up behind her.
"Let's take you to the palace, little thief."
He snaps the reins and within a blink of her eye, her house is only a distant object and her family only a wail in the air.
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Here's a late update, but I hope you like it. With my exams and hospital rotations, I don't get enough time to write. Please bear with me and keep sharing your love.
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