"No doubt your unborn daughters are better behaved than I," Kazimain replied.
"Your disobedience is shameful and unbecoming." The amir's voice was growing tight with frustration.
"Forgive me, uncle," Kazimain replied, "but I do not believe you forbade me to travel. How have I disobeyed you?"
"Must I foresee every possibility?" Sadiq charged. Snatching up a small stick, he snapped it, and threw it into the fire. "This insolence is intolerable. You will return to Ja'fariya at once."
Kazimain rose. "If that is your command." She turned as if she meant to go right then.
"Ya'Allah!" muttered Sadiq. "Camels are less contentious." He looked at me, frowned, and said, "Stay, Kazimain. No one is riding anywhere tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough."
"As you will, lord." Kazimain returned to her place by the fire, the very image of meekness and compliance.
"At dawn tomorrow," Sadiq declared, "you will be escorted back to Samarra where you belong."
"I understand," she said.
We three sat together in uneasy silence for a moment. The matter was settled, and there was nothing more to say. Sadiq looked at me, and then at Kazimain, and back again; abruptly, he stood and walked away, commanding one of the men to take care of Kazimain's horse and donkey.
It was as much privacy as we were likely to get, so I wasted not a moment of it. I leaned nearer and whispered, "Kazimain, why did you come?"
"Need you ask, my love?" she stared into the fire, lest anyone see her talking to me and take offence.
"Lord Sadiq is right, it was very dangerous. You could have been hurt."
"Are you to be angry with me, too?" she asked, her brow creasing slightly.
"Not in the least, my love, I-"
"I thought you would be pleased to see me."
"I am-more than I can say-but you took a terrible risk."
Shaking her head, she said, "Perhaps, but I think it worthwhile to see you again."
She turned her face towards me at last; the firelight shimmering on her skin made my heart melt with longing. I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss her forever, but I could not so much as touch her hand. I almost squirmed with desire.
"I knew," she continued, "that if you left Samarra I would never see you again. I decided to come with you."
"And now you must go back."
"That is what Lord Sadiq has said," she agreed, but the way she said it made me wonder.
Four days later, we arrived at the enormous timber gate of the slave camp that was the caliph's silver mine. Yes, and Kazimain remained with us still, for on the morning that the amir had decreed for her return, she had respectfully pointed out that if her uncle truly cared about her safety, he would allow her to continue her journey since remaining with him and his bodyguard would undoubtedly be safer than returning alone, or with an escort of only two or three. The amir countered by saying he would send half his men, and received the reply that this proposal seemed needlessly foolhardy since it would compromise the amir's enterprise.
"On the other hand," Kazimain pointed out, "while I know little of your purposes, I am persuaded that there are times when a woman's presence may be of considerable value."
While Sadiq was none too certain about this, Faysal concurred whole-heartedly. "It is true, my lord amir," he said. "The Prophet himself, grace and peace be upon him forever, often rejoiced in the aid of his wife and kinswomen, as is well known."
In the end, Sadiq allowed himself to be persuaded-against his better judgement, it must be said-to allow his niece to continue. "But only so far and until proper arrangements can be made to send you home," he vowed. Kazimain, of course, meekly acquiesced to this, as she did to all his wishes.
Although the sun remained hot, we left the heat of the lowlands behind and entered the cooler heights of the hills, climbing steadily towards the mountains. Now and then we felt a freshening breeze on our faces, and slept more comfortably at night. Day by day, we pursued the winding trail into the hills, arriving at the mine four days after leaving the valley behind.
Sure, I was anxious to gain the freedom of my friends. From the moment when, still far off, we glimpsed the white-washed timbers of the gate-a mere glimmer in the midday sun-freeing the captives occupied my every thought. And now that we stood before the very gate-yawning open as if to mock the freedom denied to the inhabitants within-it was all I could do to keep from throwing myself from the saddle and rushing headlong to the overseer's dwelling and commanding him to unchain them and set them free.
Sadiq sagely advised against such rash behaviour. "Perhaps you would allow me the pleasure of serving you in this," he offered. "The chief overseer may balk at the request of a former slave. He will not, however, find it so easy to refuse me, I think."
As he spoke, the sick hatred welled up inside me. Again, I felt the ache of oppression in my bones and the sting of the lash; I felt the shaking frustration of enforced weakness, and the exhaustion of body and soul, the waking death of bondage. I wanted nothing more than to make those who practised this injustice suffer as I had suffered.
"I thank you, Lord Sadiq," I said, drawing myself up in the saddle, "but I will speak to him myself."
"Of course," the amir replied, "I leave the choice to you. However, I stand ready to aid you should your efforts fall short of the desired result." He regarded me, trying to read the depth of my intent. Then, with the air of a man passing on a dangerous duty, he summoned Faysal and three of his rafiq to accompany me. "Take Bara, Musa, and Nadr with you," he said, "and attend Aidan as you would attend me."
Satisfied with this preparation, Sadiq dismounted to await my return, saying, "Be wise, my friend, as Allah is wise."
I looked to Kazimain, who favoured me with an encouraging smile before replacing the veil. Then, turning in the saddle, I lifted the reins and rode through the hateful gate once more, and felt the slow heat of righteous wrath simmering in my heart. This day, I thought, vengeance begins. So be it.
We made our way along the narrow pathway through the close-huddled dwellings to the square of sun-blasted dirt outside the whitewashed house of the overseer. Keeping my saddle, I signalled Faysal to summon the man, which he did, calling out in a loud voice.
Word of our arrival, I expect, had been passed to the overseer the moment we reached the gates, for he appeared in the open doorway of the house, and stood looking out at us for a moment before emerging. I could see his white-turbaned head motionless in the dark as he gazed out at his unexpected visitors.
Faysal called again, and the overseer stepped, blinking, into the sun. "Greetings in the Holy Name," he said. "What is your business here?"
Not deigning to dismount, I addressed him from the saddle. "I have come to obtain the release of slaves."
I do not believe he recognized me at all, but I remembered him: he was the pit overseer Dugal had inadvertently struck, and who had directed our torture. He now stood in the sun, his small pig eyes all asquint, trying to work out how this unexpected demand might be turned to his advantage. The wrinkles of his sun-swarthy face arranged themselves in a shrewd expression. "Who are you to speak thus to me?"
"My name is Aidan mac Cainnech," I told him. "I am advisor to J'amal Sadiq, Amir of Samarra."
He stiffened at the name, the memory of his predecessor's treatment at the hands of the amir's men still sore to him. "The amir has no authority here," he declared. "Who makes this demand?"
"Protector of the Faithful, Khalifa al'Mutamid," I replied.
The chief overseer became sly. "You have proof, I presume?"