Algeciras
I sat on my platform. Just as I did every day, my legs curled in at my side, watching as shadows moved across the ceiling- my only sense that a breeze ran through the city today. Yet here in my cage I sat. Waiting. Always I was waiting for the words.
''have you heard today, al'iilhia?''
I looked at my plump master with the dead silver eyes he was used to. He stared for moments then turned to his sickly advisor in exasperation.
''she sees nothing. She says nothing. What am I to do with this al'iilhia that tells me nothing.''
The advisor spoke in a hushed and desperate tone. ''please sire, have faith. Allah has marked her as his vessel. Even though she is a heathen- Allah is in even the spider's web.'' The snivelling man looked into my eyes for a split second before whipping his head away, frightened, of what my eyes might see in him. I didn't care about what schemes festered in his head. My accursed eyes moved back to the shadows dance over painted stones. A zephyr infiltrated the room unexpectedly- I hungrily inhaled the sweet floral scented that flowed in. orange blossom wrapped in the dizzying salty, fresh sea air.
Then the whispering started. ''they come. They come on the wind and cut through the waves.''
I looked to the two men in the room with hot anger flaring in my eyes. I was met with curious stares. They were silent. The master approached with a tentative hand reaching towards me. His eyes held an eager excitement. It repulsed me. As the meaty mitt cross into the ring of light which streamed in from the skylight above me, I made to warn the bastard. I lunged from my position snapping my teeth inches from his fingers to land on my palms. The slapping of my flesh on the marble echoed in the chamber soon joined in harmony by the tinny ringing of the swords which were unsheathed. As the guards leapt from the shadowed corners to pull the master behind their wall of blades I sniggered. I half expected the balahat haram-zadah to piss himself. I receded from the edge of my pool of light to rest once more in my previous position. Again ignoring the fools. I let out a cruel chuckle at imagining the shame he would feel if he did piss himself.
All the guards who were so willing would be put to death for witnessing it. Not to mention the base advisor who cowered against the wall.
Apparently what amused me did not touch the master. His face bloomed into a red ball of pompous fury. He had always had a fat face but now it had blown up into a balloon of impotent anger- what could he do? I was al'iilhia. The word curdled in my head my lip turning up into a menacing snarl. That stupid word had taken so much from me. What else could they take without wasting my potential?
''that's it!'' he screamed with the built-up frustration of the last six years etched into the words as they bounced off the walls of my small cell. If any more emotion had been forced into such few words I thought the blue and gold tiles might rupture around the room. The guards sheathed their swords and stood to attention as the seething man stepped forward his finger raised as a rod of judgement. I smirked still, as I saw that he kept it out f my column of light– safe distance. This only goaded him further. ''you! You will be taken to the harem and I will have you this night! Then to the men! And finally to the dogs! You will fall from Allah's light and become wicked sahira! Let us see if you still smile after that you whore!'' he stared, searching my face for fear. The only fear to be found in the room was the twitch of the guard's brow and of course the whimpering of that damned mollusc of a man.
Finding this to be the case the master whirled around, his long robes gliding on the air as they trailed behind him, as he stormed out. He was quickly followed by the others. The last guard slamming the heavily gilded wood doors before I heard the familiar turn of the key.
Once more I was left alone. Today was going to be different after all. First the fichfich with its commonly cryptic message and now I was to be used as a whore and made into a wicked witch. He left out the part where I would be stoned to death but I suppose it was implied.
I looked around the chamber which had been my cell for six years. A kind of melancholy descended as I took in the beautifully intricate gilding on the walls which covered the iridescent azure blue tiles. It was like staring into the midnight sea and seeing firelight reflected. The great gold doors were decorated with two large peacocks whose tails directed a thousand eyes each my way. My hand fell limp onto my platform. The white tiles decorated with red suns. It was cool but tonight it would be warm charged by the sun's heat. I looked up and studied the window above me, hexagonal in shape, cut into thick marble. The thick rim was lined with mirrors which always directed the light of the sun and moon into my space. Would I see the sun again- even the moon- before I died? The thought of actually seeing the sky made me excited- no matter the circumstance. I began to sway as I felt the imagined breeze and tickled my fingers through the reeds. I was filled with the warmth of summer under the azure sky. The whisper crawled slowly over my lips 'Madar...' a flash of red tainted the memory. But I continued on in my melancholy trying to hold in the death screams.
Before long my reverie was broken as guards filed in followed by women who wore servant's garb. The women directed their sights to the floor. It was not uncommon. Most of the people who came here entered into my gilded cage with an air of reverent respect. And usually left in a storm of heated words.
The guards did not show such respect. In fact, they now held leering expressions with eyes which undressed me, salivating at what was to come.
I rose from my position and all took a startled step back. It was curious how the men could fear me and yet let their base desires push them to ravage me later. Peculiar creatures.
I stepped down off the raised dais to be escorted by the group to the bath. It was predictable that the master would want me cleansed for him to sully me. And then I would be useless to the people of Allah. At least it would be a continuation of what I had been for these years of imprisonment.
They had needed me pure. Needed me to be worthy of hearing the guidance of Allah. But I remained silent. When the fichfich drove me to tears I remained deaf to the master's desperate yells for an explanation. And even when the hilm took hold blinding me, burning horror or ecstasy into my mind's eye, I stayed silent.
They took me from my home to be a tool and Allah be damned I would not give them anything of use. Not again.
In the bath, I relished the radiating warmth that came from the steaming water. I didn't enjoy people touching me so as the maids approached they quivered in response to my glare. They backed away their eyes darting to the shadows of guards on the door. They weren't looking for help. No, they were looking at them in fear knowing that if they couldn't follow their orders they would be punished.
I sighed defeated by my morals which somehow still controlled me. I couldn't let these young women be beaten for being given a shitty job. I looked away from them before commanding them to work with an abrupt clap of my hands.
They rushed over, clearly wanting to get it over with. As they began to wash me I noticed the small gasps and wide eyes that were shared by all who looked at my bare body. I was well-formed. Ample bosom and a fairly toned body. In my hours locked alone, I was able to practice the fighting skills I knew from childhood- what else was there to do but fantasise beating the bastards to a pulp.
No, it was not my body's form that had them shocked. It was instead the pattern that adorned me. Coiling around my body were the intricate designs of the superstitious bastards who first found me. I looked over the shapes and words that covered my body.
I could still remember the blinding pain as they cut each detailed image into my skin.
The strange events of being tied to a table in a fire-lit cave, men and women drawing the designs on my naked body and then the horror as they brought out the small blade. They spent nights cutting into my flesh and treating the wounds. Now I was a bronze doll covered in pale scrawled designs. Ridiculous people. When I was brought here the first thing they did was paint me in black and gold henna. It had been redone only a few days ago. What a waste for it to be bloodied I sighed internally.
'Khanam, may we wash your hair?'' one of the younger women spoke, ready with jug and oils. I nodded before leaning back to rest my head on the lip of the bath as the woman took a hold of my caramel waves. She brought them to her and began washing and massaging my scalp. I eventually relaxed as the women continued their work. Unfortunately, it was all cut far too short as the eunuch of the harem walked boldly into the bathhouse. He approached the edge of the bath and stared down at my nakedness with no reaction. It was not unexpected. The eunuchs were trained from near birth to guard the harem and sacrificed much for the status it gained in this society.
The women paused in their work to look up to their superior for instruction. Before answering their expressions he dragged his eyes across my body before addressing them.
''she is clean.'' He stated with authority. ''purify her and dress her- quickly.'' He gave his simple instructions in a monotone but I knew from experience that it carried the underlying threat that the task was to be done swiftly or face the punishment. He glared into the eyes of each woman before looking to me. His brown eyes looked with a heated emotion that I had not seen for a long time- hatred. But as I stared back I knew the hatred was not for me in particular- it was for my fate, and my part in it.
It was a fact that my defiance of the master that had led us to this conclusion. If I had behaved well and given the master all the help and guidance he demanded then perhaps I would have lived a long life till the next oracle could be found.
I smiled a sad and knowing smile. I had already accepted my fate and I didn't wish any ill will on those who were under the boot of the ones I actually hated. The eunuch's face softened slightly showing visible pity in his eyes before noticing the maids had remained still. ''now'' he boomed punctuated with two claps which hit the walls and bounced around. He turned and marched out of the room.
The women hurried to finish their work. They asked me to exit the water and I did so without any fuss. They then escorted me in silence to a carpet surrounded by bowls of oil and smoking herbs which mingled with the steam making the air incredibly thick. This was the cleansing.
They dried my skin with cotton and began rubbing in the oils. The scent of orange and lavender seeped into my skin. Then three elder women appeared and took hold of the bundles of herbs, which smouldered in the wooden bowls, they began twisting the smoke to their will. Pushing and pulling the grey curlicues to have them wrap around my body and rise into my face; it soothed the quickened heartbeat which I had not noticed. Even I was human it seemed.
The smoke floated in waves on the steam lapping against the white tiles which covered the walls. The tendrils settled on the draping cloths above me which filtered in the sunlight creating blues reds and purples to dance on the floor as the breeze from the windows rocked them. as the women finished I looked to the window. It was open but latticed with dark wood. I saw through it lush greenery of the garden; trees, grass, shrubs all lining paths which ran towards a great marble fountain with gilding and mosaic designs decorating it. I felt the urge to bust through the thin lattice and escape.
A stupid thought. It was the central garden after all.
When my focus came back to the room I noticed a young maid stood wide-eyed, fearful that I was about to engage some plan of escape. I smiled sweetly trying to ease her worry. It worked as, after the initial shock of my small-expression, she smiled back all be it sadly.
''Khanam?'' it was one of the older maids. I looked to her curious. Her eyes appeared to be brimming with water. ''we- we are finished, Khanam.'' She said almost choking on her words. I hardened my expression and nodded before extending my arms outwards waiting to be dressed. One step closer.
They dressed me in scarlet clothes. Each piece of material was dotted with silver and gold- embers. At least I was being dressed up to be destroyed.
The cloth hung loosely on me as was the fashion for the concubines. They added a few jewels; a gold and silver necklace with a large orange stone hanging from it and a chained pair of studs which were both placed into the holes of my right ear. From the chains dangled broken stones. The scraps of other builds; beautiful in its own way. They had softly hand dried my hair to hang in loose damp curls.
The last touch to my packaging a light, translucent crimson veil sparsely adorned with jewels and embroidery. The effect was stunning; gold thread flickered under the suns stretching beams which caught the small diamonds to be thrown off in a kaleidoscope of colour. the veil was so large that four women straightened the cloth in the air before walking it over my head. When centred the women brought the gossamer down slowly around me; the cloth hovered just above my feet. In front of me, another maid quickly revealed a 6-foot mirror which just about contained my whole figure.
I was a striking vision. The master clearly liked his presents well wrapped
I stood peering through the crimson at my reflection, entranced. A shiver began crawling up my body followed by the whispering. Like a sandpit, I was being sucked in yet stood completely still. The breeze suddenly picked up and the folds of my apparel violently billowed out snapping back and forth in the trapped vortex of wind. The maids rushed to shut the window- but the damage was done. As I watched the reflection I knew- I was on fire. The heat in my blood pounded around my body as I fell backwards. Screams erupted from the young- distantly I heard the furious hushes from the elders. Hands pushed into my back before I felt the soft cradle of the floor rug. All fell away soon enough.