Eagle (35 page)

‘Not yet.’

‘You should.’ Asimat turned and began to retrace their path through the garden. ‘A man needs sons to carry on his legacy.’

‘I have no legacy, not yet.’

‘But you are Emir of Tell Bashir and a trusted councillor of Nur ad-Din.’

Yusuf shook his head. ‘I have accomplished nothing. My father and uncle started with no lands and no name. Shirkuh has become atabek of Nur ad-Din’s armies, and my father is wali of Damascus. I shall surpass them both.’

‘I do not doubt it. Nur ad-Din is right to expect great things from you. I see much of him in you.’

Yusuf met her eyes. ‘Do you?’

‘You have the same confidence, the same thirst for greatness. And you will have your chance in the years to come. We will go to war with the Franks. If you survive, you will rise to great heights.’

Yusuf grinned. ‘I do not plan on dying.’

‘I thought not,’ Asimat said, smiling back. They had reached the end of the path leading from the rose garden, and the eunuch guards stood nearby. Asimat stopped and turned to face Yusuf.
‘I must apologize for my rudeness earlier. I have enjoyed our talk, Yusuf. We shall speak again soon, I hope?’

‘If Nur ad-Din wills it, my lady.’

‘Until then.’ Asimat gestured to the guards, and they surrounded her as she headed towards the palace.

Yusuf picked a rose bloom and absent-mindedly plucked its petals as he watched her walk away. She was halfway back to the palace when she glanced back over her shoulder towards him. Yusuf smiled. He held the rose to his nose and inhaled. ‘Asimat,’ he whispered.

Yusuf was still smiling when he returned to his chamber. He found Faridah waiting for him. She stood at the window, looking out towards the grounds of the citadel. She was wearing a thin cotton robe, through which Yusuf could see the curve of her back and buttocks. ‘I saw the two of you from here,’ she said, her back still to him.

Yusuf crossed the room and placed his hands around her waist. He kissed her neck. ‘Surely you are not jealous of Asimat.’

‘Of course not.’ Faridah pulled away and went to sit on the bed. ‘I owe you my life, and I ask for nothing more. I know that there will be other women.’ She met Yusuf’s eyes. ‘But Asimat is the wife of your lord.’

Yusuf came over and sat beside her. ‘I am not a fool,’ he said.

Faridah touched his shoulder. ‘And I am not blind. I have seen Asimat. She is beautiful, and she is young.’

Yusuf reached beneath Faridah’s robe and ran his hand up her side to caress he breast. ‘You are hardly old.’

‘But I cannot bear children, and soon you will want a son.’ She looked away. ‘You will want someone younger.’

Yusuf touched her cheek and turned her face towards him. There were tears in her eyes. He brushed them away and kissed her. ‘You will always have a place in my household, Faridah.’

‘And in your heart?’ Faridah whispered. Yusuf nodded. ‘Then that is all I ask.’ She kissed him, sliding her arms around his
back and pulling him down on top of her. He pulled her robe aside and began to kiss her breast.

There was a loud knock at the door, and Yusuf pulled away. Faridah sat up, pulling her robe back around her. ‘What is it?’ Yusuf demanded.

The door opened, and John entered. ‘Excuse me, Yusuf. I must speak with you.’ He glanced at Faridah. ‘In private.’

‘I have no secrets from Faridah,’ Yusuf replied, rising. ‘What is it?’

‘Your brother, Turan. He has committed adultery with Khaldun’s new wife, Nadhira.’

‘Zimat’s husband,’ Yusuf whispered, his jaw tight. He went to the window and gripped the sill as he looked out. Turan again. Always Turan. The fool would be the ruin of their family. Yusuf wondered if he truly loved Nadhira or if he were using her to get revenge against Khaldun for winning Baalbek. It hardly mattered. Yusuf turned back to John. ‘How do you know this?’

John refused to meet his gaze. ‘I cannot say.’

‘Cannot say? I am your lord!’ Yusuf snapped. ‘You will tell me.’

‘I am a free man,’ John replied quietly. ‘I will not tell you.’

Yusuf’s eyes narrowed. ‘Was it Zimat?’ John said nothing, and Yusuf crossed the room to him. ‘I will say this only once: Zimat is my sister. If you stain her honour, I will kill you myself.’

‘I understand.’

Yusuf nodded, then turned away to pace the room. ‘Send for Turan,’ he told John. ‘I will know the truth of this from him.’

‘He is not in the citadel. I saw him leave for town earlier today.’

Yusuf stopped pacing. ‘Do you think he went to—?’ John nodded. ‘Saddle my horse. I will go to Khaldun’s home.’

‘I will meet you at the stables,’ John said and left.

Faridah rose and went to Yusuf, putting her arms around him from behind. ‘What will you do?’ she asked.

Yusuf picked up his sword belt and pulled it tight around his waist. ‘I do not know.’

‘Open up!’ Yusuf shouted as he pounded on the gate of Khaldun’s villa. John stood behind him, holding the reins of their horses. ‘I am Yusuf ibn Ayub, come to see Khaldun. Open this gate!’

The gate creaked open a few feet to reveal two eunuch guards. ‘Our lord is not here,’ one of them said in a high voice. ‘He left for Baalbek this morning.’

‘Then I will see my sister, Zimat.’ Yusuf tried to push past the guards, but they grabbed his arms, stopping him.

‘You cannot enter,’ the first guard said. ‘Khaldun has told us to admit no guests while he is absent.’

‘Not even my brother, Turan,’ Yusuf growled. The two guards exchanged a nervous glance. ‘Shall I tell Khaldun what you have allowed to take place in his absence?’

The second guard paled. ‘I will take you to your sister. Come.’

Yusuf turned to John. ‘Make sure no one leaves or goes to warn Turan.’ John nodded, and Yusuf followed the eunuch guard inside. They crossed the villa courtyard and entered the carpeted room where Yusuf had feasted the night before. They passed through into a corridor on the right, then turned sharply right again into a long hallway with rooms opening off to either side. The guard knocked at one of the doors.

‘Enter,’ Zimat called from inside, and the guard pushed the door open. Zimat, dressed in a simple white caftan, stood at the centre of the room. ‘Brother!’ she exclaimed. ‘Thank Allah you have come.’ She went to Yusuf and embraced him.

Yusuf gently pushed her away. ‘Is it true?’ Zimat nodded. ‘Why did you tell John and not me?’

‘I wanted to tell you, but I did not know how. Khaldun was there, and he would never believe me.’ Her face twisted into a scowl. ‘That slut Nadhira has blinded him.’

‘You should not have spoken to John,’ Yusuf told her. ‘He is a man and a Frank. You could be whipped for seeing him alone.’

Zimat lowered her head. ‘I did not know what else to do. Someone had to know.’

‘Very well. But you are never to see John again. You must promise me.’

Zimat looked away. ‘I promise.’

‘Now tell me, do you have proof of what you say about Turan?’

‘You will see for yourself.’ Zimat led him down the hallway to another door. ‘This is Nadhira’s room,’ she whispered.

Yusuf tried the handle. The door was locked. He reared back and kicked the door, splintering the wood around the lock. The door swung open to reveal a room dominated by a large bed. Nadhira was on the bed, her legs wrapped around Turan, who lay naked on top of her.

‘I said we were not to be disturbed!’ Turan roared as he turned towards the door. His eyes widened when he saw Yusuf. ‘Brother!’ he gasped.

‘What have you done?’ Yusuf roared, drawing his sword. Turan scrambled from the bed and backed into the far corner, his hands over his crotch. Nadhira screamed and pulled a silk sheet over herself. ‘You have dishonoured our family,’ Yusuf growled.

‘The whore seduced me!’ Turan protested.

‘He lies,’ Nadhira sobbed. ‘He forced himself upon me. He made me.’

Yusuf looked from one to the other. His lips curled back in a snarl as he felt rage build within him. He stepped around the bed towards Turan, who cowered in the corner. Yusuf raised his sword, but then stopped. Shirkuh had told him that he must not allow his passions to rule him. Yusuf closed his eyes and forced himself to breath deeply. When he opened his eyes, his features had calmed, his mouth setting in a hard line. He picked up Turan’s caftan and tossed it to him. ‘Get dressed.’

‘What will you do to me, Brother?’ Turan asked as he pulled on his caftan.

‘Nothing.’ Yusuf turned away.

Zimat grabbed his arm. ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded. ‘He has shamed the family! Father would have him beaten!’

Yusuf pulled away from her. ‘I am not Father.’

‘Then I will not be punished?’ Turan asked.

Yusuf looked back to him. ‘You will come with me to witness Nadhira’s fate. That will be your punishment.’

Nadhira left the bed and approached Yusuf. ‘And what will happen to me?’ she asked, her hands trembling and her eyes wide with fright.

‘I do not know,’ Yusuf replied. ‘That is for your husband to decide.’

Yusuf stood with Turan and John in the central market square of Aleppo on a warm spring morning, the air heavy with the scent of oranges from the trees that ringed the square. The space was crowded as usual, but today the people had not come for the market. Veiled women stood whispering at the edge of the crowd, their children playing around them. At the centre of the square, grim-faced men stood silently in groups of threes and fours, their eyes on the street that led from Khaldun’s home. In their hands, the men held fist-sized rocks.

A murmur of anticipation ran through the crowd as they caught sight of Khaldun approaching on foot, his hand clamped around Nadhira’s arm as he pulled her along beside him. He had returned yesterday after a week in Baalbek, and Yusuf had gone immediately to tell him of Nadhira and Turan. Khaldun had not questioned Yusuf’s word. He had simply nodded and told Yusuf to meet him in the square after morning prayers. Yusuf noticed that Khaldun, too, carried a white stone in his hand.

‘Do we have to be here?’ John asked.

Yusuf nodded. ‘It is my duty. I am the witness to the crime.’

The crowd parted as Khaldun dragged Nadhira to the centre of the square. She was dressed in a white cotton caftan, with no veil, and her eyes were red from weeping. The crowd closed around her. Yusuf pushed his way to the front, pulling Turan after him. Khaldun released Nadhira and left her standing alone as he turned to face Yusuf.

‘This woman has been accused of adultery,’ Khaldun said, speaking loudly so that the crowd could hear. ‘Yusuf ibn Ayub, you witnessed her crime. Do you swear by Allah that she is guilty?’

The square fell silent. The men in the crowd seemed to be holding their breath as they waited for Yusuf to speak. He looked at Nadhira, who shook so strongly with fear that she was barely able to stand. Yusuf suddenly felt sick. He looked away from Nadhira and said softly, ‘I swear it.’

‘The punishment for her crime is death by stoning,’ Khaldun said. He moved to stand across from Yusuf and raised the stone he held. As the wronged party, it was his duty to cast the first stone.

Nadhira took a step towards Khaldun. ‘Please, Husband—’ she sobbed. ‘Forgive me.’

Khaldun said nothing, but his face contorted in a grimace as he hurled the rock at her. Nadhira cried out in pain as it caught her in the shoulder, spinning her around. A second later her screaming was cut short as another rock smashed into her mouth, breaking her jaw and spattering blood across Yusuf and Turan. Turan looked away, his face pale. Yusuf grabbed his jaw and turned his head, forcing him to watch. Nadhira lay curled on the ground, moaning as rock after rock slammed into her with a sickening crunch. Her eyes fixed on Turan, then a rock hit her in the face, crushing her right eye and knocking her unconscious. The stones continued to fall until her broken, bloodied body was barely recognizable as human.

Yusuf turned and pushed his way through to the edge of the crowd, where he bent over and vomited. He wiped his mouth
with the back of his hand and rose to find that the crowd was already dispersing, the men hurrying away as if ashamed of what they had done. John and Turan remained standing near Khaldun, who knelt in the centre of the square, cradling the wrecked body of his wife in his arms.

Turan went to Khaldun and placed his hand on his shoulder. ‘Forgive me,’ he pleaded, his voice shaking.

Khaldun looked up, his eyes wet with tears. ‘Leave me,’ his said, his voice breaking. His lips curled back into a snarl. ‘Get out of my sight, you bastard!’

Turan backed away, and Yusuf grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the citadel. When they reached the moat, Turan stopped and turned to Yusuf, who was surprised to see tears rolling down his brother’s cheeks. He had never seen Turan cry.

‘I – I loved her, Brother,’ Turan said. ‘And she is dead because of me. I cannot live with her blood on my hands.’

‘You must make amends,’ Yusuf told him.

‘How? I will do whatever you ask.’

‘I need capable men. Will you serve as my second in command?’

Turan hesitated. His hands clenched into fists, and Yusuf half expected his brother to refuse, to explode in a rage. But his hands relaxed and Turan nodded. ‘You could have killed me. I owe you my life.’

‘Good.’ Yusuf put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘But that is not enough, Turan. It is not in my power to forgive you for what you have done to the two of them.’ He nodded towards the square. Khaldun was still there alone, Nadhira clasped to his chest. ‘For that, you must look to Allah.’

That night John sat on the bed in his room in the citadel palace, staring at the candle flickering on the table before him and fiddling with a copper fal. His hair was still wet from washing, and he wore a fresh white caftan. He glanced out of the window
to where the crescent moon was rising above the horizon. He crossed himself and rose. Yusuf was dining with Nur ad-Din, and John knew that Khaldun was with them. Nur ad-Din was seeking to cheer him after his wife’s betrayal, and so they would dine late into the night, which meant that John had more than enough time. He ran a hand through his long blond hair, then picked up his sword and pulled it part way from the scabbard, checking his reflection in the blade. The lines of his face were harder than they had once been, and his short blond beard fuller. He sheathed the sword and buckled it around his waist. Then he blew out the candle and left.