When Zinneeraawoke the next morning, she found herself staring out an uncovered window, grilles pushed open, the most magnificent view of the streets, empty and dark last night, alive and full of people, the murmur of chatter reaching all the way to her in her bed. She could see the bright green leaves of palm, date and fruit trees and golden orange rooftops far into the distance. A smile spread across her face and she sat up, throwing on her white scarf which she had thrown on the floor beside her bed last night, too exhausted to change, and went to lean by the window. It was almost too beautiful to be real.
The door suddenly slammed open and Zinneera's hand immediately flew to her belt before realising her dagger wasn't there but on the floor. Safiyya and Maha eyed her from the doorway with raised eyebrows.
"And who did you think we were?" Maha asked, strolling inside and making herself comfortable on the bed as Safiyya shut the door behind them. "Intruders? In a place like this?"
"Well the whole point is that I did not know who you were." Zinneera huffed and ignored her friends, instead grabbing her travel sack and taking out a white cotton dress. "Is it morning?"
"Late morning." Safiyya answered. "The Ameer and his family have gathered for breakfast and we have been invited."
"And the best part is," Maha scowled, knowing the events of the previous night since Safiyya had informed her earlier on. "Our admirer Hamid will be there."
"Oh no. There goes my plan of having a good morning." Zinneera frowned, pulling up her sleeves to make ablution in the bucket of clean water that had been left by the door.
"It is not like there is much left of the morning to begin with." Safiyya smiled slyly. "So having a bad morning today is proportionately not going to affect the rest of your day much."
Zinneera narrowed her eyes at her friend who shrugged innocently. "Where are Maryam and Ismael?"
"They are downstairs already." Maha answered, looking away from the window she had been staring out of. "I sent Ismael down with Maryam. Although that was before Safiyya told me what happened. Truly, I cannot believe we were travelling with the Prince of Al-Amin, almost the Prince of all of Al-Hafah, and none of us could tell. Not to mention the way you treated him!" Maha looked highly amused.
"I did not treat him that badly." Zinneera rolled her eyes indignantly. "You both over exaggerate."
"You tried to add extra salt into his meals." Safiyya raised a finger.
"You paid every ballad musician to recite and sing around us on every occasion we stayed in a village or city." Maha raised two fingers.
"And you put a snake in his bag."
"It was a harmless one!"
"You knew he would wake up to stop you from leaving with your horse, so you woke up even earlier out of spite."
"You also misplaced an item of his every day to confuse him. And annoy him."
"Plus you grumbled about him regularly."
"And you were hardly kind when he spoke to you."
There was silence in the room as the girls stared at each other.
"To summarise," Maha finally said. "I think we will all be surprised if they do not announce your execution at breakfast."
"It does sound rather awful when you put it like that." Zinneera shrugged. "I would feel worse about it if he actually seemed to be affected by it. The man has less emotion than a grain of sand."
Safiyya sighed and shook her head.
"We will leave you to change. Do not be long or we will be late. Although I know how you like to make an entrance."
"It livens life up a little more, don't you think?"
But Zinneera did as she was told and speedily changed into her clean dress, fixed her hijab, put on her boots but left her belt. It was unlikely that she would be let into a room with the most powerful people in the city with a weapon. Luckily, her boots had a cosy little compartment for a thin dagger which Zinneera carefully slipped inside.
The girls made their way to breakfast, someone's stomach rumbling particularly loudly on the way, but when they reached the wide double doors, open with guards outside, Zinneera began to feel rather queasy. She did not like Hamid, neither did she feel she was a particular favourite of any of the Ameer's family and so disaster seemed like the only possible outcome of the morning.
They entered after a guard announced them and to Zinneera's slight relief, someone at the table was smiling at them. The yellow birch table in front of them was the length of the whole room, which was in fact, rather long. And so, most of it remained unoccupied. On the right end, sat the Ameer, looking very comfortable on an array of bright, velvet red cushions. To his right sat his wife, the one who had a friendly smile on her face, her clothes matching the colour of the cushions except for her white hijab and robe.
Next to her was Maryam in a beige dress, who was chatting animatedly to Hamid, sat on the Ameer's left much to Zinneera's surprise. Though Hamid looked less than interested as he picked at his nails, not looking at the guests who had just entered. Then beside him, not looking happy, nor sad, nor uncomfortable, or angry or any sort of distinguishable emotion, was Khalil ibn-al-Ameer, reading a letter. Ismael, who sat next to Maryam looking rather despondent, beamed as his sister entered, and stood up to run along the table, which took him a good few seconds, to Maha, throwing himself at her waist for a hug. Zinneera grinned at the way her friend's eyes lit up.
"Come inside girls, come, come." The Ameerah beckoned, her smile stretching to her pronounced cheekbones. "You have arrived just in time as our breakfast should almost be here."
In a hurry, the girls shuffled around the table to the side of the Ameerah and were about to sit before the Ameer stopped them.
"Ismael." He smiled, not unkindly. "Would you mind sitting next to Khalil? That way the girls are not so far away and we are all closer together."
Ismael hesitated and Maha was also uncomfortable with the prospect. A hand on his shoulder, she was about to reject on his behalf but then Ismael nodded.
"Thank you my boy." The Ameer reached a hand out and Ismael walked towards him. He placed his small hand in his large one and the Ameer patted it gently. Zinneera thought it was good that he could take the shorter path around the table this time. And so they settled themselves down on the green and red cushions around them with Maha next to Maryam so she could be opposite Ismael, then Zinneera and then Safiyya.
They watched as Ismael sat down doubtfully next to Ibn-al-Ameer, a short distance away so that he was not noticeably far but not too close either. Zinneera frowned and was about to suggest Maha sit next to him when Khalil put down his letter and leaned down to whisper something in the boy's ear. Ismael grinned and nodded his head excitedly. Then Khalil began to show or explain something to him in the letter.
Seeing Ismael was happier now, all the girls relaxed, just as servants entered the room, plates of food in their hands. As they huddled around the group, laying breakfast on the table, Zinneera found her eyes straying to Khalil, whose face, she realised, she was seeing for the first time. He looked just like any other man, really. With a well kept, well-trimmed beard about the size of her fist, curly and black, similar to his hair which was thick and slightly wavy, falling to his shoulders and kept back in a ponytail. His facial features were very strong. A large, wide and pointy nose, thick eyebrows and his jaw was slightly wide. He didn't inherit his mother's cheekbones, that was for sure. But as he spoke to Ismael about whatever it is that seemed to excite the pair of them, his posture was less stiff, his facial muscles more relaxed and it made him seem less like a statue frozen in time and more like a human.
Zinneera looked away and cleared her throat awkwardly, making sure no one realised she was staring as the servants left. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a far more attractive feature; the breakfast. There were fresh figs, dates, watermelon and pomegranate, as well as pomegranate juice in a mud clay jug which Zinneera was itching to reach for. Small bowls of pickled cucumber, turnip and olives were dotted around them, also containing fresh onion and coriander. Everyone had warm pitta within an arm's length of them, the smell almost torture for Zinneera as she waited for the Ameer to say they could eat. Hummus, labneh, vine leaves, falafel, fatteh, makdous, cold fasooliya with vegetables and tabouleh.
Zinneera was practically salivating over the table, and when the Ameer said 'Bismillah' she hurriedly repeated and chomped into some bread, her hand already reaching for the jug of pomegranate juice. Unfortunately, Safiyya swiped it first and sent a triumphant grin to Zinneera who glared, remembering they both had a fondness for the decadent fruit.
Everyone was silent as they grovelled food into their mouths, but the Ameer smiled widely as a girl stumbled in, out of breath. At first, Zinneera thought it could be a sibling of the Ameer or Ameerah, but she was too youthful. She had never heard of the leaders of Al-Amin having a daughter though.
"Sorry, ya Ameer, for my tardiness. There was a small feminine issue to deal with."
"It is no problem Halima." The Ameer pointed towards Ismael. "Please, join us. These ladies are the refugees currently staying with us. I will leave you to your introductions." The Ameer ended, before leaning over to listen to something his wife was telling him.
The girl, Halima, who seemed around Zinneera and Safiyya's age, gently lifted her navy blue dress which was far too long for her and scurried over to the table to sit beside Ismael, who was still enamoured with whatever on earth he was discussing with Khalil.
"Assalaamualaikum." Halima breathed out, reaching for the jug of water which Safiyya handed to her as the girls replied. "Thank you." She smiled. "Well, I suppose you know now that I am Halima so I guess it is your turn to introduce yourselves."
"I am Safiyya." Safiyya answered immediately.
"Maha, Ismael's sister."
Zinneera tried to chew quickly on the makdous but she had shoved a whole one into her mouth so was finding it rather difficult. She held up a finger and Safiyya shook her head, trying to hide an amused grin.
"This is Zinneera. She lacks any sense of table manners."
Eventually, Zinneera's mouth was empty and she apologised. "I am truly sorry. If I knew I had to introduce myself to someone before I picked up that makdous, I assure you, I would have gone through the bother of tearing it to pieces."
Halima smiled pleasantly. "It is alright."
There was silence. Zinneera contemplated an idea in her head before she decided to go for it.
"So, are you a distant relative of the family?"
"No, nothing of the sort." Halima replied, dipping a small piece of bread into the labneh which had olive oil drizzled over it and dried mint. Zinneera watched, deciding she would have some of that next. "I am an orphan. The Ameerah found me around ten years ago and they took me in."
"Oh." Safiyya frowned. "I am sorry for your loss."
"It was a long time ago." Halima shrugged. "I barely remember my parents. But I am grateful to the Ameerah and Ameer for taking me in and to Allah for bringing me to them."
The women muttered 'Alhamdulillah' before continuing to eat in silence once again.
"I am sorry for what has happened to your village. These attacks are truly ruthless. Alhamdulillah, there is still a chance for your families." Halima attempted conversation
Zinneera continued eating, and Safiyya opened her mouth to give her thanks but Maha beat her to it.
"Hardly. My brother is dead." She said bluntly.
Zinneera almost choked on her spoonful of fatteh and Safiyya's mouth dropped open.
Halima stuttered out her condolences, eyes wide in shock and awkwardness. If Zinneera were not reminded of the pain of Ibrahim's passing, she would let out an evil giggle at the tension of the situation.
"It is a recent death. The wound is still fresh." Safiyya said softly, sending a look to Maha who ignored her and bit into some falafel. "Alhamdulillah, we managed to pray his Janazah."
"Alhamdulillah." Halima replied awkwardly, and it remained silent, at least on the girls' side, after that sequence of events.
Once everyone had finished, the servants came to clear the table and they brought fresh coffee with them. Zinneera's stomach had never been so happy in her entire life. She was almost sad she could not get used to it.
"Khalil." The Ameer interrupted his son mid-sentence and he quickly looked at him. "Halima was going to get her dress fixed today at the tailor. Would you mind going with her?" The Ameer asked Khalil but interestingly, his tone left no room for argument. Khalil pursed his lips, looking like he wanted to say something but instead nodded and replied with 'yes father'. "Young ladies." The Ameer smiled towards them. "Make yourself at home, here in our house and also our city. We will do our best to rectify the wrongs that have been committed and bring justice to you and your family."
Zinneera was about to ask him where they were so far, in terms of delivering this justice, but the Ameer stood up to leave, holding his hand out for the Ameer to grab and lift herself up with. He bid his salaam and Zinneera replied moodily as he left, Hamid scarpering after him with a condescending look shot towards the women just before he disappeared through the doorway.
"What exactly are we supposed to do now?" Zinneera directed her question to her friend, leaning back on her hands, more comfortable now that the Ameer and Ameerah had left. "Sit down and read poetry?"
"That doesn't sound like a half bad idea." Safiyya answered thoughtfully. Zinneera rolled her eyes upwards.
"Indeed, probably not for you. You would gladly romanticise this jug." She picked up the empty, brownish-green jug, previously filled with water, and gently wiggled it around in her hand. "Oh, sorry, miserable clay. Dark with long forgotten pain."
"You are going to be dark with pain in a moment." Safiyya glared, snatching the jug out of Zinneera's hand and placing it down on the table.
"I for one, will not sit in a room all day, not knowing what they are planning. Or even if they are planning anything." Maha scowled, her eyes not leaving Ismael who was drawing something on the back of Khalil's letter. Khalil had relocated to the doorway, where he was standing with Halima, the pair of them speaking in low tones.
"I am sure they are planning something at least." Safiyya remarked. "Although where they are with that plan or how developed it is remains to be seen."
"Or even, how willing they are to act." Zinneera added. "We cannot forget that this does not mean as much to them as it does to us. They, perhaps now, are not under threat. This city is powerful enough to defend itself and the whole northern region."
"True." Safiyya agreed, rifling through her small satchel she carried with her everywhere. "Although they have sent Ibn-al-Ameer around Al-Hafah, investigating. And they have been so caring I do not want to think that they might actually not."
"We have seen enough of the world to know of the character powerful men or women can play when they want something." Zinneera looked down at the creases in her white dress. "Although, while on this topic, I was thinking of trying to tell-"
"Assalaamualaikum."
Startled, Zinneera looked up to see Khalil standing on the other side of the table looking down at them. She sat up straight.
"Wa'alaikumusalaam." The three women replied in unison.
"I repeat my parents' sentiments. Our home is open to you as it has been open for refugees before you. This dining room, our library, dare I say, the training room." He spoke as he usually did. Somehow lacking anything that could suggest what he was thinking. "I would suggest getting to know the city."
"And enjoy a life of luxury while my family could be getting tortured." Zinneera pretended to ponder over the idea. "Not your most thoughtful idea, I'll be honest."
Khalil raised an eyebrow at Zinneera and tilted his head, quiet. Then he spoke.
"And do you have any other suggestions? You cannot rush out, simply the three of you, an old woman and a young boy, and hunt down whoever is behind this. If only the world were that simple. Make use of what you have at your disposal wisely and be thankful for your blessings while you have them."
Zinneera only blinked in surprise as Khalil bowed his head slightly in respect before turning around and leaving, grey robes fluttering behind him and Halima following shyly.