Chapter 8
1622 Words
8
A loud cheer rang from the crowd and the drinks were carried out on the shoulders of many servants. The barrels of wine were carefully rolled out and set upright where their tops were opened. Mugs were dipped into the kegs and barrels, and passed out to the revelers who occupied the camp.
"Is it not customary for the son to fetch the drink?" Tillit asked Alzalam as he was handed a mug.
Alzalam sighed and shook his head. "Alas, but my young son cannot perform his duties. He is afflicted with the Rash."
"The what?" I spoke up.
"He is allergic to the desert berries, and any contact in any form will cause him to develop rashes on his skin," Xander explained to me.
Alzalam nodded. "Yes, but do not take his absence as an insult. He will return when the drink is gone, so I ask that you do your part to allow my son to come back."
Tillit raised his mug and grinned. "I will do that, our worthy host!"
Our group took a seat on one of the logs near the fire. Xander sat down beside me and handed me a mug brimming with sweet-smelling wine. "I dare say the wine of the desert berries rivals even those of the vineyards of Alexandria."
I took a sip and smacked my lips as the sweet wine tingled them. "Tastes like melted candy."
Tillit held out his mug to me. "Then perhaps Your Ladyship would like to try the beer." There was a sly smile on his lips I didn't like.
I leaned forward and sniffed the beer. The scent tickled my nose with its heavy odor. I reared back and wrinkled my nose. "What's in it?"
Tillit chuckled. "Only the finest wild grass the oasis have to offer flavored with the delicate milk of the hadab."
I cringed. "I think I'll stick with wine."
"You have opened the casks without me, Uncle?" a voice called from the darkness around the fire.
From the shadows came forth Sinbad, and behind him walked his crew. Many of the oasis guests gasped and leapt to their feet. Some of the men pulled their female companions behind them and glared at the rough-looking newcomers.
Alzalam stood and held up his hands. "It is all right, my friends! They will do you no harm." He walked over and slipped his arm over Sinbad's shoulders as he looked grinning at the young sailor. "He is merely my nephew, the child of my only sister."
"You began the festivities early, my uncle," Sinbad commented.
Alzalam gestured to us. "My eminent guests inquired of this year's drink and I did not wish to disappoint them. Allow me to introduce you to them."
Sinbad's eyes fell on us and he smirked. "They had the pleasure of meeting my men and me earlier, Uncle."
Xander smiled and bowed his head. "Likewise."
Alzalam clapped his hands. "Excellent! Excellent! But I have better news, Nephew. This gentleman-" he gestured to Spiros, "-has accepted a challenge from your man. Why do you not call him forth to entertain my guests?"
Sinbad studied Spiros with a frown. "Very well, Uncle, but I do not believe he will provide much sport for my man."
Our host laughed and clapped Sinbad's back. "We shall see, Nephew! Or rather, hear!" He spun around to face the fire and the other guests where he raised his hands in the air. "Friends! Companions! We shall have good sport tonight! A flute contest!"
A murmur arose from the crowd as Sinbad glanced over his shoulder. One of the crew stepped forward to stand beside Sinbad. It was the same man who had blown the trumpet to frighten away the sandstorm. He bowed to Alzalam before he straightened and studied Spiros with a steady gaze.
Sinbad clapped his hand on the man's shoulders and grinned at us. "This is my champion. His name is Wahid Samat, the Silent One, for since birth he has been unable to speak. That curse has given him the gift of much breath, and with that he tames the sandstorms and wins any flute contest."
"Everyone take your seats! We shall begin at once!" Alzalam called out.
The gatherers seated themselves around the fire. Its flickering light cast long shadows across the ground as the calm of night descended on us. Spiros and Wahid were seated on a log to themselves and handed long, narrow flutes. The wood was smooth and the tiny holes in the top were set close together.
Spiros smiled at his rival. "You may be first, if you please."
Wahid nodded and lifted his flute to his mouth. He blew, and an enchanting tune slipped from the mouth of the wood instrument. The music sang like a folk song in time with his fingers as they danced up and down flute. More than one guest climbed to their feet and spun around in a circle before the crackling fire. The whole of Sinbad's company clapped in time with the flute, but they couldn't drown out the sound of the quick ditty.
The music lingered in the air even as the man lowered the pipe. The audience clapped and Alzalam stood and clapped loudest. "Wonderful! Just wonderful! Now quiet! Quiet, everyone, and let us listen!"
The camp quieted. I looked around. Many of those present looked around us as though searching for something.
I leaned close to Xander and lowered my voice to a whisper. "What are we waiting for?"
"If the flute player's skill is fine and his music sincere then tradition tells that a naqia will come and bless him and his company," Xander explained.
My eyes widened and I straightened to look around. Nothing stirred save for the occasional shift of the audience.
Alzalam lowered his arm and smiled at Wahid "Never mind. You played admirably, and I am sure some day you will be blessed by the naqia. I only hope I am in your company to hear that beautiful sound when it is played."
Tillit raised his mug in the air. "And to reap the blessings of a good harvest of desert berries."
Alththania handed Alzalam a mug and our host raised the glass in the air. "I will drink to-"
"A moment, if you would, dear uncle," Sinbad spoke up. He stepped before the seated Spiros and frowned down upon him. "We shall drink the blessing of both of them, but only after this dragon plays."
Spiros smiled and bowed his head. "As you wish."
The mugs were lowered and a hush fell over the crowd as Spiros raised the flute to his lips. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and blew.
I never paid much attention to music, but even my novice self could tell this was something completely different. The haunting melody that emanated from the flute gently swayed the air with its vibrations so that one didn't so much hear the music as feel the song.
Spiros sat as still as a majestic oak, but his hands were different. His fingers were as nimble as deer as they slipped up and down the flute. The music flowed from beneath those fingers as though he crafted each tune from the air itself.
No one swayed in time to the tune. No once danced. We didn't have to. It was enough to sit and listen to the flow of that sweet melody.
We were hardly aware when his fingers stopped their dance and he opened his eyes. Spiros lowered the flute and turned his head to the left without moving the rest of the body.
My eyes widened as a pure-white creature stepped out of the darkness. It was a unicorn.
The horse-like creature had a single, spiraled horn that protruded two feet from its forehead. Its white mane lay against its smooth, muscular body, and its tail swung in time with its trot. The majestic beast's short hair shimmered in the firelight and its perfect hooves made not a sound on the sand. Its wide, crystal-blue eyes held a steady gaze on Spiros as it walked toward him. The creature stopped five feet from the log and bowed its head.
Spiros smiled and returned the gesture. The beast turned away and returned back into the darkness.
There was a long silence before Alzalam's soft voice broke the quiet. "By all the goddesses, what a beautiful creature." He shook himself and turned to Spiros with a smile. "And you have given us that rare treat, my friend! Let us drink to that indeed!"
He raised his mug and the stupor that lay over the whole company was broken. We all raised our mugs and gave a cheer before downing the contents.
I took a swig and turned to Xander. "So that was a naqia?"
He glanced at where the creature had gone and nodded. "Yes. I have not seen one for a great while, but their beauty is always breathtaking."
"So why didn't you just tell me that the naqia was a unicorn?"
He turned to me and smiled. "Because that is not what they are called in our world."
Spiros walked over to us and took a seat between Xander and Tillit. The sus raised his mug to the flutist. "A fine performance, my boy. Even better than the last time I heard you play. I dare say you attracted a leader of some naqia herd that time."
Spiros lifted the flute to study its smooth design. "I have this to thank. I have never seen a better one."
"And it is yours, my friend!" Alzalam called out as he strode up to us. His eyes twinkled with fun as he winked at Spiros. "A gift of song for a gift of blessing, and I will not take 'no' for an answer."
Spiros smiled and bowed his head. "I thank you for the honor, sir."
Alzalam turned toward the fire and raised his arms above his head. "Now let us drink and be merry, for tomorrow the Jame begins!"
- Writer
