Page 20 of None Such as She (The Moroccan Empire #2)

She does not answer, only keeps washing her little pots, changing the water after each one, pouring from big copper jugs into the basin, washing, then tipping the basin’s contents into a large tub before refilling with clean water. She is methodical, exact, focused.

I yawn and roll back on the cushions. “Talk to me, Hela. There must be some gossip you can tell me. Who is having a scandalous affair? Who is seeking a husband? Who a wife? How are the crops? Tell me anything.”

Her voice, when it comes, is so calm and steady that I barely take in what she is saying. “There is an army coming.”

I sit up. “What?”

She tips the last of the water into the tub, then takes all her clean pots and puts them to one side in her chest, ready to be filled when a new trader comes to the city. She locks the chest, careful to put the key away in the folds of her robes.

I lean forward, my bare feet touching the cool floor. “Hela!”

She looks round at me as though my interest is unexpected. “What?”

“You said an army was coming!”

She nods and gets up, crosses the room, sits down and takes up a book. It is a medical book, I have tried to read it but I do not understand enough of it. I can see I will have to drag every small bit of information out of her. “Where is this army coming from?”

“The desert.”

“The desert? There’s no-one there. Only a few nomads and the traders.”

She shakes her head, still trying to keep her focus on the book. “The Almoravids.”

I sit back, disappointed. I had hoped for something of interest to happen. Anything to liven up my endless life here. A battle would at least bring news, glory to our army, tall tales for the men to boast of their prowess at the evening meals.

“Hela, the Almoravids came ten years back. You remember. They took a few places on the trade routes and then as soon as they crossed the mountains their leader got killed. They had to retreat. So much for their holy war.”

But Hela has closed the book and is stubbornly shaking her head. “They have a new leader. Two in fact, for they say his second-in command is also a great warrior and a leader of men.”

“What’s his name?”

“The leader is Abu Bakr bin Umar. His second in command is his cousin, named Yusuf bin Tashfin.”

She knows that the very name Yusuf, common as it is, makes my heart beat a little faster and gives me a look. I make a face at her. “They are still intent on their holy war? Have they not learnt anything?’

“Perhaps they have.”

I shrug. “When they cross the mountains they will be defeated again.”

Hela does not answer, only goes back to her book, and then a servant comes to tell us that I am required to attend dinner this evening, and the whole tedious business of washing, dressing, being perfumed and bedecked with jewels begins again.

***

There is a time where we hear no more news of the army.

At first I tease Hela and tell her that if she had been imagining handsome warriors marching into her arms she was mistaken, and perhaps she dreamed them.

But she takes no notice of me, only goes about her business every day as though nothing had changed. I forget about the Almoravids.

***

Today I am summoned to the state rooms. Luqut wishes me to be by his side during council.

This is a frequent occurrence. I am there as a figurehead, a promise.

With me by his side the amir can plan for greatness, for my very presence is a sign of future glory to come.

His council of men plan for the future. Alliances are discussed, maps are consulted.

Perhaps if they were to be linked to this lord or that amir…

perhaps if they were to take a small town to add to Aghmat’s existing vassals…

These conversations bore me. After years of this I know the names of every lord and vassal tribe in the Maghreb and have met most of them when they visit us to discuss possible unions.

I could draw the maps with my eyes closed.

I know who is to be trusted and who is deceitful, I know who has large armies and those leaders who for all their bluster have little in the way of real defences.

The endless petty skirmishes and associations followed by disassociations weary me, for nothing significant ever seems to change.

Leaders rise and fall, territories change hands. So it goes on.

I arrive, am greeted, settle myself by Luqut’s side.

I try to make myself comfortable even in my stiff silks and prepare to be bored once again.

A servant pours tea for me and I sip it, my mind elsewhere until I hear the word ‘Almoravids’.

At once, I am all ears. No doubt they have crossed the mountains and been defeated.

I will tease Hela with this news. Looking around the room I see there is a tension I had not noticed.

Luqut has commanded a messenger to repeat the news he brought just this morning so that all may hear it for themselves.

The man bows low to us all, flustered at being faced with so many great men as well as the unusual sight of a woman attending council.

“My lords – my lady,” he stammers awkwardly.

He is unsure of where he should look, or to whom he should direct his bows. Luqut waves at him impatiently to proceed with less formality. The men lean forward.

“The Almoravids, under the command of Abu Bakr bin Umar, have crossed the Atlas Mountains and taken some small towns.”

There are nods. This is not unexpected. This is what happened last time, and they were defeated.

They will be on their way soon enough. The crossing of the mountains is no mean feat.

It will have left them tired, vulnerable.

They have no stronghold city in which to rest and recuperate.

They must advance or flee, defeated. It makes them weak.

They will be riding camels which are good for the desert but less fleet of foot now that they have reached more fertile plains.

“They have also taken Taroundannt.”

There are gasps. Taroundannt is not much smaller than Aghmat.

A pretty city, with mud-pink houses and white storks that nestle in its towers.

It benefits from the shelter of the mountains and the rich fertile plain in which it sits, offering a large souk to those in the surrounding areas.

Traders use it too, for it sits on the trade routes, as does Aghmat.

If the Almoravids have taken it they are stronger than they were when they last crossed the mountains.

Their leaders must be bolder, their men gathered in greater numbers.

Now they have a stronghold. They can command food and water supplies, conscript men into their ranks.

Their camels can be exchanged for horses if they wish.

They are also commanding a city that sits on the trade route.

They can confiscate gold and other merchandise with which to pay for their needs, raise a tax on merchants.

Taroundannt changes the shape of this news.

We are under threat. Aghmat is not so far away.

It would be logical for them to attack our city next.

Another rich city, another post on the trade route.

A larger stronghold from which to create a capital should they wish. There will be a battle.

When the council is dismissed preparations begin. Fortifications must be made. Weapons must be assembled, as must be men. We will be ready when the army comes.

I tell Hela everything. While the other servants chatter and wring their hands Hela continues with her reading. She is unmoved by the news. I dismiss the other servants and move closer to her.

“Did you know about this?”

She says nothing but nods, keeping her eyes on the book.

“How? The messenger just arrived! He was brought straight to council!”

“I was with the amir.”

“Why?”

She shrugs. She does not like being questioned.

“Why, Hela?”

“I was tending to a woman.”

I turn my face away, thinking of the women in this palace who have paid for my freedom for more than eleven years with their own screams. But I cannot bring myself to look at Hela and order that she reverses her work, that Luqut should come to me again as he used to. I could not bear it.

I look at Hela and she looks back at me, sees my face. Sees that I will not give the order I should give if I were a good person, an honourable person. Nods.

I am ashamed. I have allowed Hela to take my pain and give it away elsewhere. I shake my head to rid it of my thoughts and return to the news.

“Are there truly many of them? They are stronger this time?”

She nods, eyes still on the page.

I move still closer and whisper. “Can they take Aghmat?”

She looks up at me, her dark eyes serious. Nods.

***

Three days go by and then word comes. The Almoravids have been seen. They are marching on Aghmat.

I climb to the topmost tower of the palace and look into the distance. I can see no army as yet, there are still too far off. By my side stands Hela. She does not scan the horizon. She looks at my face and then returns to my rooms. I follow her and sit down, watching to see what she will do next.

She looks at me and then speaks, abruptly, as though all her words have come at once. “They say their leader is a gentle man. Honourable. He has a wife, old of course, for he is old himself. But he has been a good husband to her these many years.”

I nod, although I do not understand her meaning.

“If they are successful and take Aghmat it is likely you will be taken.”

I look at her in horror. “As a prisoner of war?”

She shakes her head at my ignorance. “As a wife.”

I frown. “They are not going to win, Hela. Luqut’s forces are too great, his allies too many.”

She ignores me and undoes the heavy locks of the wooden chest. She reaches in, takes out the carved red cup and holds it up.

Its worn surface glows in the rays of sunshine that enter the windows.