The Bones of the Old Ones (Dabir and Asim) (10 page)

Now those of you who are not travelers may wonder as to what a caravanserai looks like. There are all kinds, large and small, but the best are walled rectangles that can house large numbers of men, horses, and goods, and can be sealed off for the night with thick wooden doors. Many are built around wells, and the very best are manned with guards and staffed with merchants.

The caravanserai that night was of the better sort, and it had a little shop selling both chickens and eggs, which we put to good use, though the prices were high. The shopkeeper, a fat man with a lazy eye, actually sounded sincere when he apologized for the price, saying that his fowl were simply not laying as well in the cold, and he gossiped with anyone who would listen about the bad weather’s effect on business.

Our meal was subdued until Kharouf spoke up from the fireside and asked for a story from me. Without too much reluctance I fell to describing my journey with Dabir through the Desert of Souls. The men all thought this a fine tale and praised me. Afterward, I portioned out the night’s sentinels. There were enough of us that two could be spared for each of the three watches on one night, and sleep the next, so that none of us would suffer overmuch. Najya was excluded from this calculation, of course. You may think me overcautious setting sentinels inside a high-walled caravanserai sealed with thick doors and a great chain, but Dabir and I were uneasy as to the power of the enemies we faced, and there were at least a dozen strangers behind the walls with us.

Dabir was brooding and turned down my offer for a game of shatranj, so I checked over the arrangements while most of the men readied for sleep. They had erected a small tent between our three campfires for Najya, who sat quietly near Dabir. My friend remained close to our largest fire, looking over one of his scrolls. The spear, wrapped in a long dark package beside him, had not left his sight.

I took off my belt and set my sheathed sword close to hand before sinking down onto my bedroll to remove my boots. It was then I found Najya before me.

The cool wind set her veil rippling and her hair blowing. She pushed a strand from her fine-featured face. “Captain, I heard you say that you had brought your shatranj board.”

“I have.” I set my boots down side by side, in easy reach should I need to slip into them quickly.

“I had hoped we might play tonight. A quick game, before sleep.”

I had never before played shatranj with a woman; indeed, it had never crossed my mind that a woman might know the rules. But then it was growing clear that Najya was a different sort of woman than those I had known before. I was not yet tired and the thought of spending time in her company did not displease me.

“I would welcome that,” I told her.

I retrieved the board and the bag of pieces from my saddle gear, after slipping back into my boots. Najya and I unrolled our prayer rugs to sit upon, then placed pieces. I allowed her the black, so that she might move first, then asked how large a handicap she desired.

“A handicap?” Her eyebrows rose.

“I might give over my vizier,” I explained, “or an elephant, or a knight, even one of my chariots, before the start of the game.”

“Do you not think I can play you, Captain?” she asked.

The habits of women are confusing, for they take offense sometimes even when you mean only to be kind. “I did not say that,” I said.

“I grew up playing shatranj across from my father, and my brother. And I bested them both.”

I nodded once to her. “No handicap, then.”

I could not quite read her look, but her voice was cool when next she spoke. “I have a thought, Captain. Let us make a wager.”

Gambling for money is forbidden, as all right-minded know, but her manner gave me pause and I did not manage to frame a response before she continued.

“You look so sour. If you win this match, then you need not bother with my company in the evenings. I see that I make you uncomfortable.”

I could not imagine how she had been left with that impression. She spoke on before I could protest.

“If, however, I win, you shall spar with me tomorrow evening.”

The notion that I, the expedition leader, should trade blows with a woman under my protection struck me as comically absurd.

“Are you afraid I’m going to best you?” There was a challenge in those eyes now.

“No!” My response was louder than I planned. I managed to lower my voice, but not to frame more than a short expression of my bewilderment. “Why?”

“It is simple. I find myself in danger and since I … since my maturity, I have had no more training. My brother no longer would duel with me, and my husband always refused. I thought I would profit from renewed practice.”

I found myself nodding slowly, unwilling to disappoint her but unsure how to proceed. “Well, I suppose that might be helpful,” I said doubtfully. I thought then I might suggest someone else work with her—maybe Dabir would know how to teach her—but she did not give me the chance to speak on.

“Let us play, then, Captain.”

So we did. I let her begin, and then, as is usual, we spent a long while taking turns maneuvering pieces into our battle arrays. She did not make the mistake of moving without watching me, as the young and inexperienced will do.

For a time our play took all our concentration. When she snatched my pawn with a knight one square from the far side of the board, I saw that she had the focus of a hawk and decided to better my chances by distracting her. “Tell me what your father was like,” I suggested.

Her voice was soft, reflective, as she replied. “He was a good man, and brave. Gentle with his children and friends, but a lion when roused to anger.”

I asked more about him, and anything she might know of his campaigns, and was surprised to hear that she knew far more about tactics and troop movements than many soldiers. She said it had pleased her father to speak of such things, and that she had first listened because she loved him. “And then I listened because I found such matters of interest. I used to beg him to tell me again of Iskander’s battles at Gaugmella or Granicus, and he would set out stones and sticks to show me how the units moved.”

Surely most fathers would not have discussed such matters with their daughters, nor allow them to spend so much time in the saddle. She had continued to ride, even after marriage, and she lovingly described journeys near the mountains outside her estate.

“I have been looking forward to the spring,” she said, “and the bloom of the flowers as the grass turns a deep green upon the slopes. You should come and ride there then. You would enjoy it, I think.”

“I’m sure I would. You sound as though you spend many hours in the saddle.”

“I had little else to do once I married.” Her eyes settled on her pieces. “The household was run by the servants. And we had no children,” she added.

That she was barren struck me like a heavy blow and I could not think how to respond. Should I offer condolences?

She seemed not to notice my discomfiture as she brought out her right chariot. “Bahir was very handsome, and clever,” she continued. “My father loved him, for he was a brave officer and a fine swordsman. But when he was not on duty, he seemed always to be out with his friends. He never had time for me.”

She arched one slim eyebrow meaningfully. I understood then that she knew exactly what I had first assumed. Although I could not for the life of me imagine why any man would keep from Najya’s bed, I had known soldiers who sought only the company of their fellows.

“That is unfortunate,” I managed, lamely.

“I do not want you to think he was a bad man. I would not have wished that death for him.” She then pushed forward her other chariot and her eyes flashed with impish glee. “You have become distracted, Asim. Check.”

I was as startled by her use of my name as my sudden reversal. I could hear the smile in her voice as she addressed me. “I think that I shall triumph.”

Most men know that to keep good grace with a woman you must not always strive to win, but I do not think I could have gotten myself out from the trap she had laid regardless. In a few more moves I was forced to concede. It being dark, I could not see through her veil, so the only sign I saw of her delight was the shift of her eyes.

“That was well done,” I admitted. “I should like to watch you play Dabir sometime.”

“I would rather play you,” she said, and then froze for a moment, as if she regretted the words. “He is quite intense,” she added. “I feel always as if he is watching me. Judging me.”

“Surely not,” I said, though I suspected she was right. “In any case, I underestimated you, and now must pay the price.”

“I trust our wager is not too weighty for you?” she said thoughtfully.

“Nay,” I said, “you beat me fairly.”

“Very well.” She sounded quite satisfied with herself. “Tomorrow evening, then. Good night, Captain.” She bowed her head formally to me, and then withdrew.

After she retired I stowed away the board and pieces, thinking about the coming bout. The men would laugh at me, I thought, unless I was careful to make it a teaching exercise and not a contest, and they might tease me in any case. Yet I found that I did not care, and I was smiling when I crouched down beside Dabir, still sitting with a scroll by the fire.

“She is a fair player,” I told him.

“That is good,” Dabir replied without interest.

I decided not to tell him that she had beaten me. I glanced over to her tent, then lowered my voice. “I think she is feeling a little better.”

“The gaps in her memory trouble her more than she is letting on,” Dabir said, without pause from his reading.

“Eh. I think you may be making her uncomfortable.”

Now he looked up, and the long, fire-cast shadows aged his face. “How so?”

“Well. You know how you are. Intense. That is the word she used.”

Dabir toyed with the ring glinting on his finger. “I see. What do you suggest I do differently?”

“Perhaps you should not watch her as though she were an object of study.”

Dabir deliberated before responding. “Asim, I think it is good of you to entertain her. The happier she is, the stronger she is likely to remain against the spirit. But you should not forget that there is something powerful within her that could take control at any moment. It’s … unwise to…” He seemed to reconsider whatever he was about to advise. “I’m sure you are not suggesting that I relax my vigilance?”

“No,” I answered reluctantly.

“But I will strive to be more cordial. I don’t want to add to her burdens.”

“That would be nice.”

He nodded once and returned his attention to the scroll.

“What is it you are reading?”

“Passages from the Christian stories of the prophet Jesus, may peace be upon him. He cast demons and spirits out, but the writers do not say how.”

I clapped Dabir on the shoulder. “If anyone can learn the answers, it will be you. But we should turn in, for it is already late. Sleep well, Dabir.”

An amused smile stole over his features. “And you.”

I strode back to my blankets, and burrowed in.

I did sleep well, as it happened, though I was roused before even the predawn call to prayer when those within the caravanserai began to bustle. There were only two small caravans that had taken shelter that night, but you would not have known it from the amount of peddlers who crept forth that morning. They hawked waterskins, wineskins, and the means to fill both. They called out about whetstones, kindling, horse feed, knives, cloaks, gloves, even perfumes, to take back to the ladies at home. Children scurried from campfire to campfire, bragging about the excellence of their mother’s, aunt’s, or grandmother’s candied nuts.

There was altogether too much chaos to please me, so I posted Kharouf and another man to stand watch. I stood back to supervise the loading of animals and gathering of gear, and it was thus that I noticed a small boy passing through with a sack bulging with breads. He was turned away by Abdul, but ducked low, came around a horse, and made straight for Najya.

I might have done the same thing if I were ten or eleven, for young women were easier marks, and better to look at in any case. However, I didn’t want any complications or delays. I stepped around Abdul, gruffly urging another peddler from our midst, and almost ran into Dabir, who stood watching Najya, the wrapped spear held still in one hand like a walking staff.

He met my eyes and I understood immediately that something about the situation had alarmed him. Najya was bent a little to talk with the boy, who was proffering her a sweet bread. She said something we could not hear, and then he giggled. It was not the sound of his voice so much as the quality of the giggle, its length, the way his shoulder shrugged. We had heard it from a grown man trying to slay us in the astronomer’s tower.

“Ya Allah!” I dashed forward, hand to my hilt. “Najya, get back from him!”

The boy turned instantly. A normal youth would have been frightened to see a soldier bearing down, but this one grinned. His form blurred and shifted even as he pulled a blade from somewhere within the pack that slid from his shoulders. His robe ripped as he grew, his skin lightened, and before I reached him I faced a huge redheaded Frank with a thick beard.

“This time my sword is curved,” he crowed in a surprisingly thin voice, and leapt at me, his eyes alight with joy. His clothes were all but shredded, and his feet were bare as he dashed through the churned and muddy snow. Yet, from his grin, you’d have thought he frolicked in the spring grass.

Najya shouted for me to be careful even as horses began to neigh wildly on every side, and men’s voices rose in consternation and fear. I had no chance in that moment to learn what troubled them, for I was fighting for my life. I parried Gazi’s strike at the upper end of his arc, before he built full strength, and even so he nearly overpowered me.

The Sebitti recovered fast and came with a sidewise slash at my head. I ducked, sidestepped, parried again. Around me soldiers drew sword against cloaked figures suddenly in our midst, but also against huge wooden serpents that had whipped up from the snow near Dabir. It was these, apparently, which frightened the horses.