Custom Of Sultans

Fatma and I walk towards my home while gossiping. The sky is bright as Fatma's face. This girl never sees dawn, does she? And she's sweet enough to carry one of the bags for me. Her plain high waisted dress flutters freely along the breeze. Despite being rich, she always prefers wearing simple clothes. Contrary to me, who cannot be seen without a frilly neck lace or beaded belt. However, I did prefer to wear a simple forest green frock today, since I was going to the market.

"Have you heard? The emir is paying a visit to the Sayyid Sultan's court! It's always a custom if there is an alliance!" Fatma suddenly exclaims and bumps by my shoulder. She always walks wobbly.

But... this isn't the normal gossip she would tell me. It's either a bee stung her brother's foot because he stepped on it, or that neighborhood shopkeeper fell into a gutter. Fatma is probably the quirkiest girl I've ever met, and it's rare to hear her be sober.

I reply, "Why, I thought we were under the Ottomans!"

"They made a peace treaty or some sort- it's not like I know all about politics."

"You'd make a wonderful politician. It's in your blood. Your great grandfather was one. Your uncle is the emir-"

"Ha, very funny. But is it not concerning, since Peter the Great declared war with the Persians. What if the Turks get caught up in the war too? Maybe the Persian sultan is trying to mend matters... that Tahme- or Tahmi-"

"Tahmasp Shah the Second."

"...yes. So I'm not the only one reading the daily news."

I burst out laughing. "So that's why you were telling me all this? To show off that you read the newspaper?"

"Hey no- uncle just told me and I got interested..."

Something is off with Fatma. I try to see if something is troubling her. She is always quite peaceful looking, her short brown hair tucked behind her small ears, with her plump cheeks flushed nearly at all times.

"...Well, I do have something to tell you," she asks, noticing my stare, her voice small.

"I knew it, spit it out. You actually like that noodle headed guy, right?"

"Astagfirullah no! I am- I'm leaving. Far away. We might not see each other-"

"Tell me you jest-"

"I-it's not! I'm sorry, Razia, but I have to say goodbye. I'll have to go to port soon."

"I don't get it. You're leaving. Some trip?"

"I'd love to explain it to you- but I can't. I-I have to go now. See you again, maybe, goodbye." She squeezes my arm, and walks away at a fast, steady pace.

I am in an utter lose of words. Then I realize I am standing before my own house. It is high in height, since there are rented stories, but sophisticated. It definitely is annoying to walk up the stairs though.

"Baba, I heard Fatma is leaving-"

"Fatma, my girl, greet your uncle."

It's the emir of Beirut. Kasim Ibn-Harun. He is not my father's brother. In fact he is much older than him, and not even blood related. The fifty five year old, with a trimmed and henna dyed beard is Fatma's uncle. Once she invited me to a house party, and I met him there. He's a nice man, my parents know him well now too. He bought me candies whenever he met me, which was still seldom because he is a busy man. And that is why I am surprised now, for he never visited your house before.

"A-Assalamu Alaikum. What brings you here?" I ask with a forced smile, curtsying a little, trying hard in suppressing my shock.

"To meet your father for some business. MashAllah, you buy groceries for your mother? What a dutiful girl."

Flushing under the compliment, I lower my head, "I thank you-"

My father interrupts. "Your uncle is going to Persia. He is considering in taking you there for a trip too. He needs someone to accompany him. I know you miss trips- but we can't afford such now, you see." Before, I always went on trips. Then my father fell in debt, and after that I couldn't go anymore, so that is true. But, Persia! It's the Persia! Uncle Kasim never had a family, so him taking me seems ever so evident.

"That sounds lovely!" But then my smile falls. "Would mother allow though?"

"I'll convince her. You'll be off in two days. You will also accompany your uncle to the Sultan's court! And Fatma will accompany you too. Make me proud, sweet." So that is why Fatma said she was leaving...the thought of surprising her at port sounds fun.

"I promise!" I clap my hands with glee. Kasim chuckles at my excitement, then gives my father a weird kind of look, then leaves.

When he goes away, suddenly, my mother comes barging in. "You're sending my daughter away? For your stinky debts my daughter has to pay for it! What kind of father are you!"

I can see my father tense. "Razia, take your brother and leave!"

And I am confused again.

I don't know what else to do. Not as though it's a rare situation. I go to your own room with Eitizaz. My brother doesn't disobey me this time. He sits on my bed like a disciplined boy, but I know it's out of fear.

"Why do they fight like that?" He sobs.

"It's nothing serious. They always do that sometimes. Maybe mother lost her favourite face powder. That happened last time, you know. And she blamed me for it."

He chuckles. The joke isn't funny. His eyes are red.