An Arabian Story Mustirra

CHAPTER 1

Albeze Sarhad urged his horse to move faster. The sun was almost set and the desert floor was not a place where he cared to spend the night, knowing that the feverish air would soon turn frigid. He silently chided himself for lingering so long after giving his men instructions to head into the mountains and set up camp. He could still hear their snickers as they left him to his task. He shrugged, what did it matter? After all, there was a hefty bag of coins dangling from his sash as well as the enticing little thing sitting behind him. Her arms clung to his waist as the horse began to trot. Her price would be worth the extra time he decided. The girl shook with a muffled sob. He didn’t care. Kidnapping supplied profit for his tribe, the same as it did for the others of the desert communities. They all lived by the same code: I against my brother; my brother and I against our cousins; my brother, my cousins, and I against the stranger. And his wealth is mine for the taking. Albeze added his own concluding line before turning his attention back to his surroundings. To the north, the harsh environment of the Empty Quarter sat silently waiting for the onset of darkness, when it would release the serpents that lay just below the surface of its sun bleached sand. Albeze looked up at the sky overhead; darkness was rapidly descending and the night would soon be cold enough to claim their lives if they did not take shelter. With that thought in mind, he kicked the horse into a gallop.

They reached the first outcroppings of rock just as the foothills to the south began to show black against the twilight sky. Slowing the horse to a walk, he slackened the reins, allowing the animal to pick its way through the boulders. The smell of smoke reached his nostrils before he sighted the amber glow of the campfire where he knew his men would be seated around the snapping blaze. As he rode into camp, one of them jumped up and took his horse by the reins, allowing their chieftain to slide to the ground. Albeze immediately pulled the girl off the horse’s back and held her tight when she began to struggle.

We were beginning to think you had chosen to spend the night elsewhere. A younger man flashed a meaningful smile as he rose to his feet.

Albeze returned the smile. I spent enough of it to obtain what I wanted. He pushed the girl toward his son. Treat her gently, Jahan; unharmed, she will bring us a fair price.

We will not see him for the rest of the night, a man jeered.

Jahan flashed him a smile as he pulled the struggling girl into the shadows. Laughing, Albeze accepted a piece of flat bread and a hunk of dried camel meat. Chewing vigorously, he loosened the pouch from his sash and tossed it to one of the men before taking his place in front of the fire.

Heavy! The man responded with approval as he tipped the bag. A twang from the collision of glistening coins resonated as they bumped against each other. A wealthy traveler, just as you expected, he observed. Did you learn his identity?

After I got done with him, he had no identity. Albeze’s answer reminded the men of their leader’s violent nature. The girl's mother took a little more time than I anticipated.

Ah, no wonder you returned late.

Albeze chose to ignore the innuendo. The man was a merchant.

For himself or another?

They were traveling at the rear of the caravan, so it is possible that he was his own proprietor. On the other hand, his woman was with child, which also might have kept them toward the end of the main body.

The man nodded and bit into his own serving of meat. And the caravan itself? He asked through a bulging mouth causing bits of food to fly outward.

Impressive, but I could not identify ownership. The woman was of no help nor the daughter. His mouth broke into wicked smile. Perhaps tomorrow she will be more cooperative.

Early the next morning, Albeze sat alone watching the sky lighten. He turned toward the sound of crunching footsteps and smiled when his son appeared.

Have a good night?

Very good, Jahan replied with a smile.

I have been giving that caravan some thought, and I believe it will be beneficial to pursue their identity.

I agree, if that purse was any indication of their wealth.

Bring the girl to me, Albeze commanded.

Moments later the disheveled young girl cowered on her knees in front of the tribal leader.

Your father was a merchant, yes? His statement brought a slight nod. Did he work for himself or another?

It was hard for the girl to pull her thoughts together; her head ached from lack of sleep, her body throbbed, and she felt nauseous. In addition, her father had taught her never to reveal their identity.

Albeze’s face began to redden. With a swipe of his arm, she was sent sprawling backwards. Do you want to live, girl?

His question brought another nod as she righted herself, raising a shaking hand to the side of her mouth where blood began to trickle.

Who did your father work for? Albeze repeated himself; this time he moved his hand to his dagger.

She tried to swallow but her throat felt as if it were coated with sand. The Al Khayr Federation, she whispered her response.

Ah! Albeze raised his eyebrows and gave his son a satisfied smile, Now that is information I appreciate.

Moving in a southeastern direction, they traveled for many days across the Arabian Peninsula, ascending rocky mountain passes before dropping onto grassy flatlands and skirting the fringes of the desert. The course repeated itself several times before it ended high in the foothills of Jubal al Qara, where an encampment had been erected upon a flat mesa. Fed by streams snaking down off from a mountain range, the entire area was green and fertile. Family members came out to greet them as the men proudly raced their horses into the center of the tents.

She is yours to use until we leave for Zufar, Jahan told his wife as he pulled the girl off his horse. Keep her out of sight and treat her with care; she will bring a good price.

The woman wrapped her arm around the girl's shoulders, whispering near her ear as they rushed away. Do you have a name?

Jada.

I came here the same as you Jada, but Jahan took a liking to me so I remain. Stay out of sight inside this tent, she warned as they neared a small black shelter. You do not want the same fate as I. As bad as it sounds, you still have a chance of falling into better hands. But not if one of these men takes an interest in you. She shook her head at the thought. Keep out of sight child, she cautioned again then hurried away.

Time inside the tent soon took on a dull routine. Early each morning, Jada would sit near the entrance peeking out from behind a blanket that covered the opening while she waited for Jahan’s wife to bring the morning meal. Most days she also brought a basket of lanolin scented wool to be spun. The process reversed at the end of day when the basket was collected with the delivery of a second meal. Inevitably cold damp mists crept in with the darkness of night, causing the girl to shiver as she lay upon her thin sleeping mat. Then one morning, the routine broke with the sound of shouting.

Prepare the hostages! We leave for Zufar! Albeze’s commands reached her ears as he raced by on his horse.

She wondered why he said hostages; she had assumed that she had been the only prisoner. Soon Jahan's wife arrived with new robes for her to put on. A short time later, she was taken to a mule-drawn wagon, where five other girls were seated. None spoke when she eased down amongst them. As riders took positions in front and behind the wagon, Albeze stopped his horse at the side eyeing each captive. New robes add to their beauty; see that they remain untouched. He warned his men and rode away.

Pig! One of the girls whispered.

With a jolt, the wagon surged forward moving out of the village and down sloping trails that dropped treacherously toward the valley floor.

Where is Zufar? Jada questioned the girl sitting next to her.

It is a port city that serves the caravans. We will probably be sold there.

The young woman’s prediction came true four days later when they entered a large coastal village with a market so expansive that it spread out across many acres. Well worn pathways stretched out like tentacles leading from the stockyards to the congested streets of the old city. The streets themselves either baked in sunlight or receded into the shrouded darkness of a canopy-covered souk. Inside the chaotic bazaar, temperatures soared, mixing the stench of human sweat with the overpowering scents of spices, perfumes, and frankincense. Floating on top of it all was the aroma of steaming meat boiling inside the pots of food venders. Voices rang from every direction, issuing an excited tirade of bartering. Albeze's own voice soon joined in as he dickered with a slave merchant. Eventually, the man dropped some coins into his hand, then grabbed Jada by the arm and pulled her inside his tent. Leering men watched as he stripped off her robe and push her lips open to show her teeth. Like an animal, she was forced to endure their scrutiny and worse, the touch of their hands upon her body. Eventually the robe was placed back over her shoulders and the bidding began. The men’s voices seemed to rise with intensity as they haggled over her price. She clutched the robe tightly and closed her eyes to shut it all out, but she shook uncontrollably when the yelling stopped and she felt a hand grasp her upper arm and pull her out of the tent. Gripping the front of her robe to prevent it from opening she rushed to keep up with the fast pace of the man whose hand held her in a vise-like grip. He was hidden from view by a keffiyeh that was wrapped turban style, exposing only his nut brown eyes that stared straight ahead as he pulled her along. It wasn’t until they reached the stockyards where the caravans stabled their animals, that he stopped and revealed his identity.

Rekim! she cried at the recognition of an older brother.

Say nothing Jada! He warned and hurried her to a group of men who were mounted upon their horses. He took the reins of his own steed and sprang upon its back. Quickly! He coached and pulled her up behind him.

They rode hard out of the city and into the mountains where they rested the horses near a water hole that was located deep inside a wadi. Before making camp they moved far enough away to remain unseen. Their camp was broken before the first light of day. Exhausted and traumatized, Jada held tightly to her brother as she rode behind him. There was no communication between the men as they raced across the desert toward their tribal lands. Once the tribe's encampment came into view, however, they relaxed and conversation began to flow between them.

How did you find me? Jada whispered to her brother when he assisted her off the back of the horse and into a tent.

The camel master noticed father was missing. Fearing your mother was giving birth, he went back to locate them, but he was too late. When the news reached us, we were told that you were neither with the caravan or the dead. It took little on our part to imagine what had happened. My men and I immediately took pursuit. Even so we were almost too late little sister. Allah be praised that we were not!

Jada knelt at his feet. I am a simple girl, yet you risked your lives to find me.

We sought you because our women, as well as our livestock, are considered Federation property and possessions that we are not willing to share. Nor do we allow thieves to commit this type of action against us. Retribution will be forthcoming. Regardless, you are home and safe now. Look, Farah has come to see to your needs. Leaving Jada with his wife, Rekim strode to the chieftains tent where his men had gathered to wait his return.

The murders and kidnapping appear to be a random act of robbers, he reported as he claimed a seat within their circle.

They must have been foreigners, one man observed.

No Arab man would brutalize another Arab’s women in that manner, another added.

I agree, the act itself was as defiant as it was deadly. A third voiced his opinion.

After silently listening to his warriors comments, their chieftain, Sheikh Masrug, stood and addressed them. Let us alert our caravans to increase their guard. No man travels alone and no woman leaves her tent. Be on guard yourselves, and we shall see if anything else transpires.

CHAPTER 2

When their dealings with the slave buyers were completed, Albeze sent his men to different sections of the market with orders to observe transactions in an attempt to identify any Al Khayr merchant or buyer. Meanwhile, he and Jahan wandered slowly through the dark alleyways of the older parts of the souk. Here, waves of humanity from every corner of the known world seemed to push past them. But Albeze was oblivious to their crushing force. His concentration was on the negotiations taking place inside the stalls. He stopped in front of one that was stacked high with folded silk.

I have a caravan waiting near the stockyard. He lied to the proprietor. I will give you the price of my finest camel for this lot of silk. He pointed to a rainbow colored stack that was already bundled for transport.

Truly your patronage is desirable good sir, the merchant bowed, but my bulk inventory has all been sold. In this stall, I handle only small quantities.

This is fine looking material. Albeze shook his head in mock disappointment. Perhaps I could overbid my competitor?

The merchant shook his head apologetically and turned away.

Elbowing his son, Albeze moved on to the spice merchants and repeated his proposition.

Yours is a generous offer indeed, a merchant responded, but my surplus was sent out this morning. In this stall, I sell from the small scale only.

"Then tell me, good man, how early should I arrive to place my bid for a more

substantial supply?"

Do not waste your time in the souk. Go at once to the docks and speak with the boatmen. Perhaps you can wager for their next shipment.

Is that what you do?

The spice merchant shook his head. No need for that now, I am established with both seller and buyer.

Would they be from the Federation perchance?

The merchant's eyes flashed with caution. The disclosure of such information would be indiscreet, my good man. I am sure you understand. To avoid further questions, he quickly turned away.

Albeze and his son continued through the souk, stopping occasionally to ask the same questions. Eventually, they rejoined the rest of their men, who were waiting in the shade of a fruit stand. Divide into groups. Albeze commanded. Watch these merchants until they leave their stalls for the night, then follow them back to their tents and ask questions. If they do not give you the answers you need, rough them up and frighten their families. Perhaps that will bring us the information we seek.

A great celebration feast was held on the evening Albeze and his men returned to their home camp. In the darkness of night, they congregated around a bonfire that sent sparks crackling high into the night sky. Boisterous laughter rose and fell as sordid stories and crude jokes passed between them. In due time smaller fires began to flicker outside the family tents as their women and children gathered to eat what remained of the feast. Eventually conversation turned to the reason for the celebration.

We have done well in our search for information my brothers. Albeze praised his men. It appears we have located one of the routes used by the Federation's caravans. For that reason, we celebrate! So relax, enjoy the night, tomorrow we will make our plans. He paused and analyzed the men, each one appeared to be in a different stage of inebriation. Or maybe the day after. His comment was followed by boisterous laughs and cheers.

On the morning of the third day, Albeze sat in the center of the encampment and scrutinized his men as they left their tents and drifted toward him. They were skilled warriors with an attack-and-plunder heritage embedded within each of them. That was the very reason the Persian warlord Vidarna had hired them to seek out information regarding the Federation. Albeze greeted each man individually as they took their places around him. Once they were settled, he began speaking. "We know from what Vidarna told us that the Al Khayr Federation is composed of twelve prosperous and independent kingdoms that have joined together under a Malik for protection and unity of purpose. That 'purpose' is the reason we are here. Our time spent inside the souk provided some insight. The time spent interrogating the sellers, even more. He leaned forward as if to make his next comment seem a shared secret. The Federation merchants wear a large ruby ring set in gold upon the first finger of the right hand. That is how they identify themselves to their sellers. And those sellers, as well as the port buyers, also wear an identifying mark in the form of a wine colored aqal wrapped around their keffiyeh. He righted himself and cast his eyes around the group. Our procuring of this information will no doubt have drawn attention that we need to deflect before we send our spies out again. Now, as would be expected, each tribe within the Federation has its own pasturelands, annnnd, he drew the word out to add emphasis, since this is the time of year that most of the men and camels are out on caravan, the remaining herds will be kept by only a few shepherds. Perhaps you will agree that a game of razzia would turn their attention." His announcement was followed by loud cheers.

A young boy had made his way into the circle. What is razzia? He asked, allowing his curiosity to override