
~ What a wondrous city.
Qudra could not compare, not even in the slightest: though her walls were higher, the sights, smells, and sounds of Tajar marked her as the true lap of luxury. Kaniel considered that when he received this assignment, General Adun Abd al-Amin of Qudra was not entirely pleased that a 'backwards camel-rider' such as Sheikh Ali Al-Hadd was in charge of one of the richest cities of The Pearl. There was only the smallest bit of satisfaction to be gained from the Al-Hadhar's ire, but politeness dictated that Kaniel say nothing to such a derogatory remark.
Instead, he walked these beauteous streets with newfound companions, regarding them all. So very different, in so many ways, and the Half-Orc was not one for silence.
" Amina, it must have been quite the exciting journey across The Golden Gulf," he observed, marking the most likely means she arrived here from Huzuz,
" From what I have heard, there appears to be issues with Corsairs and this Brotherhood along the waters: the siblings, Ihsan and Nireen, told us that their sorcerers of the Sea were having trouble sailing as of late. I trust that your voyage was not accosted by such brigands?"
She had been a quiet one, this Handmaiden. Though perhaps that was just her way, matching the Vizier she had been called to serve.
" And you, Salahuddin; I imagine your travel here was safe as well?" he asked of the
sha'ir,
" You seem to be more familiar with our enemies than I: I certainly hope they did not trouble you on the way to Tajar? It would be most disconcerting if not only were the Sea Mages set upon by these fiery outlaws, but the Djinn as well."
Kaniel had quite a bit of respect for the Djinn. Unlike their Efreet counterparts who tended to clash with Al-Badia patrols, the Djinn could prove to be far more helpful. There were many stories of a Rider being returned home after having been thought lost to a powerful sandstorm, the
Bedouin telling of how an unseen force had carved a path through the tearing gale for him. For this, Salahuddin had his respect as well, for a consort of the Djinn was a blessed man, or so House Nasr said.
They passed by market stalls and their proprietors, all attempting to sell their wares with the utmost of aplomb.
" The sharpest blades! Swords fit for The Valiant Half-Orc! The sharpest edge in all of Zakhara!" cried one, Kaniel merely giving a simple nod and trying to walk past as another shot out in front of Akilah and Najiyah, holding aloft necklaces, pendants, earrings, and anything else that would fit in his hands to dangle and glisten in the light.
" Sapphires! Diamonds! Rubies! Radiant pearls for such lovely pearls as yourselves!" he flattered, the Elf giving his best smile,
" Or a lovely tiara for your friend, perhaps? Yes?"
He attempted to place a heavy, garish-looking crown upon the veil of Amina, to which Kaniel gently used his larger hand to catch the salesman's wrist, easing it back down.
" You are far too kind, sadayqaa, but perhaps when we are ready to purchase such fine ornamentations, we shall, aywa?"
The Elf noted the facial tattoos and nodded slowly, keeping his smile but turning his attention towards other potential customers.
Pleased, the journey through the stalls continued, Kaniel catching a rather simple stand along the way: it seemed to mostly have ... 'junk' would be impolite, but it would take a ... special taste, to appreciate the construction of such contraptions, toys, and devices. The salesperson, a squat man with a rather eccentric energy, tried desperately to pass these frauds along, always with an excuse for why something did not work, why something fell apart, though one object in particular stood out: An Oil Lamp. Simple brass in its construction, weathered a bit but still gleaming as though she had just been shaped today. No ornamentation, nothing to mark these as another curio that the stall's owner tried to pass off. And yet, he did not try to sell this, the one item that may have been of some value. A curious oddity in a collection of oddities.
Ah well. A story for another Zakharan night.
" It seems as though we attract quite a bit of attention here," Kaniel chuckled once they had made their way through the worst of the crowds,
" You will have to forgive my curtness: I am ... not accustomed to such scrutiny from anything other than a Mamluk agha. Though I am sure our Viziers would say otherwise."
He smiled softly at Akilah, inclining his head a touch.
" Unfortunately the business in the market square kept our formal introductions short, but I wanted to pass along the blessings of The Imam of The Open Mosque; she has heard of your dedication towards The Faith, and would wish one day that you may preach within Qudra, if The Gods would bless our city in such a way. Hakiyah knows that our Walls could use such a message, from time to time."
While every
true Mamluk venerated Vataqatal, that ancient God of War, Kaniel was far more in-tune with the accepted deities of The Enlightened Faith, in no small part due to his upbringing around The Desert Mosque. It was an intrinsic part of who he was, and no amount of drill, training, and propaganda could take away his heart.
However, he had almost lost his heart, his life, everything, were it not for ...
" Najiyah."
The name was breathed as much as it was said: for years, Kaniel had assumed his vision in The High Desert to be naught more than Najm's messenger, though she looked more as though an avatar of Selan. However, her temperament in just the short time he had known her showed that she had little in common with the personality of such a traditionalist goddess: the Sorceress Vizier was mercurial, passionate, and charming with zeal rather than reserved grace.
" I am glad the Sheikh (Praise be Unto Him) has allowed you to accompany us as well - I cannot believe anyone would stand to accuse you - you! - Of the travesties this Brotherhood of Flame has wrought. By my life, I shall help you clear this unseemly charge."
A pause. A thought that brought a smile, raising his beard to better reveal the tusks that jutted from his lower jaw.
" Though considering your talent for calming a Sea Mage of his storm this morning, I warrant it is this servant that shall be needing your aid when the gift of words is needed."
His lip still bore the small nick from the Sheikh's blade, but there was a small mark of pride in that: Kaniel had heard stories of foreign soldiers, such as himself, who swore oaths and then were struck with an open palm, that the pain would remind them of their bond. Pain, to the Mamluk, was not to be shied away from: it was a reminder that you were alive, still duty-bound, still able to fight.
Before they could fight, however, they needed to find their foes.
" 'Asidqaya," he addressed them all,
" This humble servant would suggest we meet with Jina The Bold first: if it is true that she deals with Al-Badia within the High Desert, I ..."
What have you to be ashamed of? he admonished himself when his tongue stopped moving. He quickly recovered.
" I know of these Tribes: they roam far, and see much. Perhaps Jina has traded stories with them, and through that we may have a better view of painting before us." ~