Yazid’s eyes lit up. There in the distance was the unmistakable noise of horses’ hoofs, followed by the creaking of the cart. The boy ran out of the house as the noises became louder. The sky was now covered with stars and Yazid saw the retainers and servants lighting their torches to welcome the family. A voice echoed from afar.
‘Umar bin Abdallah has returned. Umar bin Abdallah has returned…’
More torches were lit and Yazid felt even more excited. Then he saw the three men on horseback and began to shout.
‘Abu! Abu! Zuhayr! Hind! Hind! Hurry up. I’m hungry.’
There they all were. Yazid had to admit an error. One of the three men on horseback was his sister Hind. Zuhayr was in the cart with his mother and Kulthum, a blanket wrapped round him.
Umar bin Abdallah lifted the boy off his feet and hugged him.
‘Has my prince been good?’
Yazid nodded as his mother rained kisses on his face. Before the others could join her in this game, Hind grabbed him by the arm and the two ran off into the house.
‘Why were you riding Zuhayr’s horse?’
Hind’s face became tense and she paused for a moment, wondering whether to tell him the truth. She decided against, not wishing to alarm Yazid. She, better than anyone else in the family, knew the fantasy-world in which her younger brother often cocooned himself.
‘Hind! What’s wrong with Zuhayr?’
‘He developed a fever.’
‘I hope it’s not the plague.’
Hind shrieked with laughter.
‘You’ve been listening too much to Ama’s stories again, haven’t you? Fool! When she talks about the plague she means Christianity. And that is not the cause of Zuhayr’s fever. It’s not serious. Our mother says he’ll be fine in a few days. He’s allergic to the change of seasons. It’s an autumnal fever. Come and bathe with us. It’s our turn first today.’
Yazid put on an indignant look.
‘I’ve already had a bath. Anyway Ama says I’m getting too old to bathe with the women. She says…’
‘I think Ama is getting too old. The nonsense she talks.’
‘She talks a lot of sense as well, and she knows a great deal more than you, Hind.’ Yazid paused to see if this rebuke had left any impact on his sister, but she appeared unmoved. Then he saw the smile in her eyes as she offered him her left hand and walked briskly through the house. Yazid ignored her extended hand, but walked by her side as she crossed the courtyard. He entered the bath chambers with her.
‘I won’t have a bath, but I will come and talk to all of you.’
The room was filled with serving women, who were undressing Yazid’s mother and Kulthum. Yazid wondered why his mother seemed slightly worried. Perhaps the journey had tired her. Perhaps it was Zuhayr’s fever. He stopped thinking as Hind undressed. Her personal maid-servant rushed to pick the discarded clothes from the floor. The three women were soaped and scrubbed with the softest sponges in the world, then containers of clean water were poured over them. After this they entered the large bath, which was the size of a small pond. The stream which flowed through the house had been piped to provide a regular supply of fresh water for the baths.
‘Have you told Yazid?’ asked their mother.
Hind shook her head.
‘Told me what?’
Kulthum giggled.
‘Great-Uncle Miguel wants Hind to marry Juan!’
Yazid laughed. ‘But he’s so fat and ugly!’
Hind screamed with pleasure. ‘You see, Mother! Even Yazid agrees. Juan has a pumpkin instead of a brain. Mother, how could he be so totally stupid! Great-Uncle Miguel may be slimy, but he’s no fool. How could he have produced this cross between a pig and a sheep?’
‘There are no laws in these matters, child.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ ventured Kulthum. ‘It might be a punishment from God for becoming a Christian!’
Hind snorted and pushed her older sister’s head below the water. Kulthum emerged in good spirits. She had become engaged only a few months ago, and it had been agreed to have the wedding ceremony and departure from the parental home in the first month of the next year. She could wait. Her intended, Ibn Harith, was someone she had known since they were children. He was the son of her mother’s cousin. He had loved her since he was sixteen years old. She wished they were in Gharnata instead of Ishbiliya, but it could not be helped. Once they were married she would try and drag him nearer her home.
‘Does Juan stink as much as Great-Uncle Miguel?’
Yazid’s question went unanswered. His mother clapped her hands and the maid-servants who had been waiting outside entered with towels and scented oils. As Yazid watched thoughtfully, the three women were dried and then rubbed with oil. Outside Umar’s voice could be heard muttering impatiently, and the women hurriedly left the chamber and entered its neighbour where their clothes awaited them. Yazid followed them, but was immediately dispatched by his mother to the kitchen with instructions for the Dwarf to prepare the food, which should be served in exactly half an hour. As he set off, Hind whispered in his ear: ‘Juan smells even more than that old stick Miguel!’
‘So you see, Ama is not always wrong!’ cried the boy triumphantly as he skipped out of the room.
In the kitchen, the Dwarf had prepared a feast. There were so many conflicting scents that even Yazid, who was a great friend of the cook, could not decipher what the stunted genius had prepared for the evening meal to celebrate the family’s safe return from Gharnata. The kitchen seemed crowded with servants and retainers, some of whom had returned with Umar from the big city. They were talking so excitedly that none of them saw Yazid enter except the Dwarf, who was roughly the same height. He rushed over to the boy.
‘Can you guess what I’ve cooked?’
‘No, but why are they all so excited?’
‘You mean you don’t know?’
‘What? Tell me immediately, Dwarf. I insist.’
Yazid had unintentionally raised his voice and had been noticed, with the result that the kitchen became silent and only the sizzling of the meat-balls in the large pan could be heard. The Dwarf looked at the boy with a sad smile on his face.
‘Your brother, Zuhayr bin Umar…’
‘He’s got a slight fever. Is it something else? Why did Hind not tell me? What is it, Dwarf? You must tell me.’
‘Young master. I don’t know all the circumstances, but your brother does not have a slight fever. He was stabbed in the city after a rude exchange with a Christian. He’s safe, it is only a flesh wound, but it will take some weeks for him to recover.’
Forgetting his mission, Yazid ran out of the kitchen, through the courtyard and was about to enter his brother’s room when he was lifted off the ground by his father.
‘Zuhayr is fast asleep. You can talk to him as much as you like in the morning.’
‘Who stabbed him, Abu? Who? Who was it?’
Yazid was dismayed. He was very close to Zuhayr and he felt guilty at having ignored his older brother and spent all this time with Hind and the women. His father attempted to soothe him.
‘It was a trivial incident. Almost an accident. Some fool insulted me as we were about to enter your uncle’s house…’
‘How?’
‘Nothing of moment. Some abuse about forcing us soon to eat pig-meat. I ignored the creature, but Zuhayr, impulsive as always, slapped the man’s face, upon which he revealed the dagger he had been concealing under his cloak and stabbed your brother just under the shoulder…’
‘And? Did you punish the rascal?’
‘No my son. We carried your brother inside the house and tended to him.’
‘Where were our servants?’
‘With us, but under strict instructions from me not to retaliate.’