The Master and The Maiden

Chapter 7

*

"Assalamu alaikum." Noor whispered, poking her veiled head into her father's study. Kabeer was seated behind his desk, hurriedly scribbling on a piece of parchment. An oil lamp was hanging behind him on a nail.

"Ameen. Wa alaikum as salam." he replied, looking up briefly before turning back to his writing. "Take a seat." he gestured to the seat in front of him. Noor gulped slowly, walking towards the chair. If her father was asking her to sit, then it must be something important. She tried to remember what exactly she had done wrong today.

Kabeer, however, didn't look upset. Truth be told, he actually looked pleased about something.

The minutes ticked on as they both sat silently. Kabeer had finished writing on the parchment, and was now folding his finished letter in half. He pulled open the drawer and slipped it in. Then, smiling inwardly, he looked up at Noor.

"How are you, Noor?" he asked.

"Um, I'm fine." she said, twisting her fingers together.

"Why the long face?" he asked, furrowing his brows. Noor looked up slowly, then quickly looked down again.

"Nothing." she said quietly.

"Cheer up, Noor." he laughed. "Things are finally looking up for us."

"What do you mean, father?" she asked, looking up at him.

"All I'm saying, Noor, is that things are going to get better from now on. There's something I've been planning for a very long time now. If my plans are successful, then everything will be perfect for us from now on." Kabeer smiled, relishing the puzzled look on her face. "But anyway, that's not why I called you." he added a little more sternly. "I wanted to talk to you about something very important."

"What is it, Abba?" she asked curiously.

"This." Kabeer said, pulling out a book from his drawer and placing it quietly on the table. Noor's heart stopped, her eyes widening in shock. She knew which book it was even before looking at it.

It was a tattered old green book, with golden letters on the cover: 'A Month In The Mountains: a detailed account of Mount 'al Sham and the treasures it hides (Volume 1)' by Sai'd ibn Zaid.

Kabeer watched her closely, noting how frightened she looked when she saw the book. That confirmed his suspicion.

"Can you explain what this is?" he asked calmly.

"It's a book." she said innocently. "A very tattered and old looking book."

"Don't get cheeky with me." he said. "We both know you're not a very good liar."

Noor bowed her head quietly.

"I would like to know what this book was doing in your possession." he said, still staring at her.

"I was just reading it because I was bored." she said quickly. "It's nothing."

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow. Noor hesitated, then nodded quickly.

"So, you and I should believe that you bought the whole collection from Hakeem out of, as you said, boredom?" he asked in a very measured tone. Noor stared down at her fingers without replying.

"Noor," he sighed. "When are you going to change?"

"I'm sorry Abba." she said in a quiet voice.

Kabeer stood up and walked around the table, sitting down on the chair beside her. Noor twisted her fingers into a tighter knot, not daring to look up at him.

"Did you honestly think you can hide such things from me?" he said gently. "I've been watching you for a while now, Noor. I know that you've hidden the books underneath your bed, and I know you have about a dozen maps hidden in several places in your room."

"How do you know that?" she gaped at him.

"Because I know my daughter." he said. "I know the person you are, Noor. And I know deep down, your greatest desire is to set off into the desert to pursue that temptress called adventure."

"Abba," Noor looked deeply into his eyes, placing her hand on his knee. "Abba, you've been around the world. You've crossed the desert more times than you can count. You must know what it's like to journey far and beyond. You've seen more than I have ever seen; more than I will ever see, perhaps. Don't you feel caged when you remain in this city? Don't you want to explore? To venture into the unknown with no knowledge of what lies ahead? Don't you want to discover all the secrets of this world that are yet to be discovered?" she said rapidly.

Kabeer stared at her for several seconds before he replied. "Sana'a is my home." he said simply.

"But Abba you must feel like you want to leave." she said, a pleading note in her voice.

"Sometimes." he said quietly. In the distance, the crickets were still disturbing the peace of the night.

"Abba, you're a man. You have the opportunity to do whatever you want to do." she continued in an undertone, choosing her words carefully. "If you decided to leave the city at dawn tomorrow and not return for several weeks, no one would question you. But I am not like you. I am a woman."

"Indeed you are." he cut her off. "And a woman should know her place."

"But why, Abba?" she begged. "Why should I be forced to remain in one place, simply because of my gender? Why does it have to be so?"

"Because that is how things have always been." he said. "The men venture out into the world, while the womenfolk remain behind and take care of the house."

"But why can't a woman venture out into the world herself?" she said quickly before he continued. "Why can't a woman be independent, just like a man?"

Kabeer said nothing, staring at his only daughter in the semi darkness. The oil lamp was beginning to burn out. Noor's heart was pounding in her chest however. She'd never discussed her passion with anyone. Not even Ummayma, with whom she shared everything.

"You've set your heart on the impossible." Kabeer whispered to her. Noor shut her eyes and sucked in a breath, as though wounded.

"I want to be free, father." she said. "I do not want to remain trapped here for the rest of my life."

"You're not trapped, Noor." he said. "You've chosen to see yourself in that situation, nothing more than that. Do you see the rest of the women in this city clamouring to escape?"

"They choose to be like that." she said.

"Our choices make us who we are, Noor." he said. "It was my choice to have you learn how to read and write, even though several other women your age were not taught. It was my choice to not marry you off to the first man who presented himself before me. It was my choice to give you everything you've ever asked for Noor. Not because I'm obliged to, but because I wanted to. And do you know why I wanted to?"

She shook her head.

"Because I love you, my daughter." he said, his voice shaking slightly. "I love you, far more than you'll ever understand. You mean more to me than all the wealth I have amassed in this world. You mean more to me than this whole world. You're all I have, Noor."

Turning away from him, Noor wiped the tears that were falling down her cheeks. When she turned to face her father however, she saw his eyes beginning to pool with tears. For the first time in ages, Noor noticed how old her father looked. The deep lines etched across his forehead were evidence of how old and worn down he had become. His beard contained several grey strands of hair, with a few shades of grey appearing on his eyebrows. His shoulders were hunched over, and his fingers, - which were folded together on top of the table - were wrinkled at the knuckles. Noor's heart broke as she realized her father was indeed getting old.

"A few years ago," he said quietly. "I lost something close to my heart in the desert, Noor. Something I'll never be able to get back. If you leave me too, then I will have nothing left to live for."

"Father, don't say that." Noor cried, wiping a strand of tear that was falling down her father's cheek.

"It's the truth, Noor." he cried. "Without you, I have nothing left to live for. I'm not going to command you to stay in Sana'a, though I know that I can. I want you to make that choice for yourself. The only reason I haven't forced you into an arranged marriage is because I want you to make the choice when you're ready. You're my weakness, Noor. And I'll be damned before I force you to do anything against your wish."

Just then, there was a knock on door. Noor hastily wiped the tears on her face, standing up quickly. Kabeer turned away, staring at the oil lamp as she opened the door.

"Oh!" Safiya said as her eyes fell on Noor. "I didn't know you were here also."

"She was about to leave." Kabeer said quickly, nodding at her. "Weren't you?"

"Of course." Noor breathed, walking over to her father. "Good night, Abba." she said, wrapping her arms around him. Kabeer patted her head lovingly. "Sleep well, my child." he said.

"Can I ask you something?" Noor whispered.

"Anything." he replied.

"How did you find out I'd bought those books from Hakeem?" she asked, her lips twitching slightly.

"Traders talk, Noor. It's what we are known for." he laughed. And it was as though those few moments of tears they'd both shared together had never happened.

*

"Master!" the messenger bowed before Fareed, keeping his eyes on the ground. Master Fareed was standing by the doorway, his robe flapping behind him in the chilly evening air.

"Did you do it?" he asked.

"Yes master." the messenger replied.

"There was no problem?"

"None at all, master."

"Adequate." Fareed said, turning back toward the house. "Tell Lukman to arrange five men. We shall pay a visit to Kabeer at dawn."

"As you wish, master." the messenger bowed once again as Fareed shut the door behind him.

His footsteps echoed across the empty house as he climbed the stairs, heading towards his bedroom which was at the other end of the hallway. His eyes briefly glanced at the door to his left, which stood ajar unlike the other doors. It was hanging on its hinges.

Master Fareed's bedroom was the most spacious room in the house. There were two pairs of high arching windows at the other end of the room, facing the door. The four poster bed was placed by the left side of the room, with only one pillow placed in the middle. Beside the bed was the two-part closet, placed close to the window. A smaller bedside drawer was placed between the bed and the closet, with another matching drawer on the other side of the bed.

The entire floor of the room was covered with a grey rug, and opposite the bed was a small black box which, unlike everything else in the room, was covered in dust. Right above this box was a large scroll, with the symbol of the Al-ghala family painted on it.

Master Fareed shut the door behind him, heaving a sigh of relief. He was very tired after all the moving about of the day. He pulled off his robe and hung it on the door of the closet, leaving a white undershirt and trousers on. He slipped off his shoes and placed them beside the bed, climbing onto the bed which creaked under his weight. He sighed as he settled into bed, staring up at the ceiling. An oil lamp was burning low beside him on the bedside drawer.

The room had belonged to his parents. When he was a little boy, Fareed had slept in the room down the hallway. His beddings and most of his clothes were still in that room, and he hadn't opened the room in several years. Not since...

He turned uncomfortably on the bed. The memory of that night still haunted him. He'd spent most of his adult life wondering if things would have been different but for that fateful night.

No! He wouldn't think about it. Instead, he settled on a happier memory. The most vivid one of his childhood.

He'd been between seven to eight years that day. His mother was down in the kitchen, making sure everything was in order. Even then, the Al-ghala household was teeming with slaves. Though in that time, there were more female slaves than males. Fareed could remember how much his mother complained about that particular topic, though she never mentioned a word about it in front of his father.

Fareed had been playing in the living room, supervised by an old and tired looking woman. Her name was Halimatu, and her job was to keep an eye on Fareed throughout the day, as he wasn't allowed out of the house unless he was going to the mosque with his Father.

"Careful, young master." she said as he almost slipped on the carpet. He'd been playing with his short wooden sword, pretending he was battling with an opponent.

"I'm fine." he snapped, steadying himself on the wall. "I just slipped."

"You could have hurt yourself." she cautioned.

"I'm not a little kid." he said, looking up at her. His stormy-gray eyes were narrowed as he glared at her. "So what if I slipped?"

"Your mother would not be happy if she found out you've injured yourself." she said calmly.

"Where is she anyway?" Fareed asked, pretending to s***h an opponent.

"In the kitchen. Taking care of dinner." Halimatu replied, for it was just a few minutes after Zuhr.

"And Father?" he asked, stabbing the air with precision. Halimatu smiled. He'd make a good soldier one day.

"He's having a meeting." she said. "He'll be done shortly."

Fareed shrugged, continuing his battle with the opponents only he could see. Halimatu continued to watch him, her hands folded on her laps.

Just then, Fareed's mother entered the room, her grey abaya wrapped around her. She wore a grey veil round her head to match, and her eyes were grey as well, just like her son's.

"There you are, my little warrior." she smiled as Fareed walked towards her. Halimatu bowed before her mistress, standing up hastily.

"How many evil men have you killed today?" Fareed's mother beamed at him as she hugged him.

"Hundreds." he smiled gleefully.

"That's my boy." she smiled at him, ruffling his hair. Fareed laughed, thrusting the wooden sword towards Halimatu. She bowed as she collected it from him, walking out of the room.

"Would you like some warm milk?" his mother asked.

"No." Fareed said. "I had some this morning."

"You need milk, Fareed. Otherwise, how will you grow and be a strong man like your father?" she said, kneeling beside him. "Or don't you want to grow up and be a strong man?"

Fareed stared down at his feet, his face scrunched up in thought. His mother watched him closely, the corner of her lips twitching in the same way the adult Fareed's lips did.

"Mother?" he said, looking up at her.

"Yes, my love?" she replied.

"Can I ask you something?" he said.

"Well you just did, but go ahead." she said, sitting on the chair. Back then, there had been several chairs arranged in the living room, forming a U-shape which faced the door.

"What is father doing everyday that keeps him locked up in his study? Why is he always receiving guests? And why do they stay in his study, talking for hours?" he asked in one breath.

Salma smiled, placing her hand gently on her son's shoulder. He was far too clever for his own good. Her husband would have to deal with his curiosity sooner or later.

"Your father, is a very busy man." she said. "What he discusses with his guests is top secret. That is why they need to have their meetings behind closed doors."

"But why can't I be a part of the meetings?" he said. "I'm his son, after all. And I'm a big boy."

"Of course you are." she laughed, ruffling his hair. "But all they talk about is boring business. I'm sure you'd not be interested."

"I am interested." he said, puffing up his chest.

"Fine." she said. "Why don't you ask him when he's done with the meeting?"

"Ask me what?" Fareed's father asked, stepping into the living room. Salma jumped, but quickly regained her composure.

"Good evening, father." Fareed bowed before his father.

"Good evening, my dear boy." master Uthman smiled at him, picking him up in one hand. "What is it you wanted to ask me, my boy?"

"He's suddenly developed an interest in your meetings." Salma laughed, standing up as well. Her husband laughed, shaking Fareed in his hand. "Is that so?" he asked.

"I want to know what you're discussing." he said quickly. "I'm a big boy now."

"Of course you are." his father replied. "Why don't you come with me to my study and I'll show you?"

"Really?" Fareed's eyes widened.

"Really." master Uthman nodded, turning toward the door. Fareed beamed at his mother over his father's shoulder, and she winked at him. His fingers were tingling with excitement as he anticipated what his father was about to tell him. Finally, he would be treated like a big man.

"Here." his father set him down on the table, pulling out a long scroll from his drawer. Fareed read the words written at the top:

عبادة السرية

"What's this?" he asked, pulling the scroll towards him.

"Eibadat al siriya." his father replied. "The cult of secrecy."

"You're in a secret society?" Fareed gaped.

"Indeed." his father replied. "And on this paper, you can see the names of all the members." he said. Fareed glanced down at the paper, briefly scanning through the names. There were 57 names in total, and his father's name was at the top.

"This group was formed several hundred years ago, by your great-great grandfather." his father said. "Back then, it was made up of only a few members. But today, you can see we have grown in number quite significantly."

"What do the members do?" Fareed asked eagerly, already imagining several men wrapped in long black cloaks, jumping over fences and killing bad guys.

"There is a great treasure, Fareed. A very great treasure indeed, which has been hidden from the world. Our primary task is to find out what this treasure is, and share it with the world. My father left me this mission before his death." Uthman said simply. "The secret location of this treasure has been passed down from generation to generation, father to son, son to daughter, and so on and so forth by an unknown family of, shall we say, bad people. But several hundred years ago, the secret identity of the last survivor of that family was leaked to your great-great grandfather. Upon finding out the identity of the person, he quickly assembled a group of men, and he told them who he was and how to get to him. Once they got to him, they... asked him nicely and he told them that the only way to find out the secret location of the treasure was to find 'Jawahir Al-haya' or The Jewels of Life. However, he couldn't reveal the location of the jewels before he died. Thus, Eibadat al siriya was formed. Your great-great grandfather tasked each of the members of the group with finding out the location of the jewels."

"And have you found them?" Fareed asked.

"Not yet. But we are close." his father replied. "You see, a few members of the group defected from Eibadat al siriya, and went on to form their own secret societies, each of them trying to find the jewels before anyone else. So it is now our task to make sure we find the jewels before anyone else does."

"Father, do you know where they are?" Fareed asked, looking up at his father. The stormy-gray eyes met the green eyes peering down curiously at them. Uthman smiled.

"If I knew where they were, then my job would have been a lot easier." he said, taking the scroll from Fareed and placing it in the drawer once again.

"Can I help, father? I'm very good at finding things." Fareed said eagerly.

Uthman placed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it slightly.

"One day, you will." he said.

"Really, father?"

"Really." he smiled reassuringly.

*

A mosquito buzzed beside master Fareed's ear. Annoyingly, he swatted it away. The oil lamp was almost dead beside him, but still he hadn't fallen asleep. His mind was racing over a million things. He couldn't go to sleep when there were so many things to do.

The same jewels which his father had talked to him about were now lying safely in his study. He wished his father could see him now. He had succeeded where several others had failed. For centuries, men had searched fruitlessly for the jewels. And now they were his. He could set to work on them at once. But first, he had to take care of Kabeer. Everything was going according to plan. Soon, Kabeer would pay dearly for trying to steal from him.

With that thought and a satisfied smile, Fareed turned and fell asleep almost immediately, just as the oil lamp burned out behind him.

*

Noor turned around and faced the window in the darkness, frowning to herself. She had a very uncomfortable feeling ever since she spoke with her father earlier.

"Noor, are you awake?" Ummayma asked from the foot of the bed. She had drawn her mat closer to the window due to the heat.

"Yes." she replied, sitting up in bed. "I can't sleep."

"What's on your mind?" Ummayma asked, sitting up as well.

"I'm just feeling uneasy." Noor said, rubbing her elbow.

"About what?" Ummayma asked.

"I'm not sure." she replied. "I just feel anxious for no reason. Is that normal?"

"I don't think so." Ummayma said. She paused before saying "Is it about Omar?"

"What?" Noor snorted. "Of course not."

"Why don't you like him, Noor?" she asked.

"Because he's loud, and hairy, and his voice irritates me, and he's obnoxious, and he's so full of himself. What would I possibly want with a person like him?" Noor said, cringing at the mental image of Omar.

"He seems like a nice man." Ummayma said.

"Trust me, he's not. Everyone just thinks he is." Noor said.

"And how would you know?" Ummayma asked. Noor could have sworn there was an accusing tone in her voice.

"Well, I..."

"Shh! Someone's coming." Ummayma cut her off, lying down quickly. Noor laid down as well, pulling up the blanket to her neck as she also pretended to be asleep. Both of them laid still, their eyes trained on the door.

Aisha walked in quietly, standing briefly at the door to make sure Noor and Ummayma were asleep. She sighed as she pulled out her own mat from under the bed, spreading it besides Ummayma. She laid down on the mat and pulled a blanket which she and Ummayma shared from underneath the latter's head and spread it over her feet. Noor heard her sigh deeply, and could have sworn she heard her sniff in the darkness.

She turned around slowly on the bed and faced the wall, trying to ignore the creeping thought in her head. For she knew exactly where Aisha was coming from. And she was very sure, too, that right now Safiya would definitely be standing by her window, silent tears falling down her eyes, as she always did whenever she saw Aisha leaving her husband's room at night.

*