"Fahima's Adventure"
by Mayetra & Beryll
The afternoon sun beats down upon me as I slip from my master’s villa. I have been forbidden to leave alone but the sounds, smells, and sights of this ancient city are too much of a temptation. The other servants are too busy to go with me. My master is sleeping and I know none of the other servants will dare stop me. I am the master’s favorite. The only child in the household and the one servant he dotes on. My master can be stern when the need arises but it is worth the prospect of additional work. I am confident that I will not be caught.
I skip barefoot through the dusty streets. No one pays attention to the little slave girl that hurries by them. My white tunic is soon coated in a fine film of grime but I could care less. There is too much to see and experience as I head for my favorite place in the whole world. I increase my speed wanting time to look my fill before I must return. Thick strands of my waist length ebony hair slip from its braid. It will soon become dirty and tangled but I am unconcerned. The only person who cares about my stupid hair is my master. He may as well be a million miles away.
The large open market bursts into view. It is alive with people from all over the world. My senses are assaulted but it doesn’t bother me. I love it. I have no coin but it doesn’t matter. There is more to do at the market then buy things. I stand quietly for a moment out of the way of traffic to savor everything. It is a ritual.
Closing my eyes, I concentrate. The first thing I notice is the noise. I listen for a while, studiously identifying sounds before locking them away in my memory. It gives me something to think about during the long, boring hours of my lessons. My master insists that I have an education. I don’t see why. It seems like a bunch of stupid stuff to learn. Who cares about reading, writing, history, and numbers? It is important to my master so I try and pay attention. After listening to the sounds of people talking in many different languages, the cries of animals and the assorted noises that crowds make, I move on to my nose. Some of the smells are divine like honey dates, perfumes and spices. Others are not.
Finally, it is time to use my eyes and I slowly begin to wander through the throng of people. Colors are everywhere. One vendor hawks cloth in every hue of the rainbow. I edge closer to see the shimmering bolts of silks and satins. I know from experience that they are soft to the touch. The vendor sees me and smiles. His name is Ali and he says I remind him of this favorite sister. He motions for me to join him behind the low table holding his wares. I go eagerly. Ali always has some new treasure for me, scraps of cloth or bits of lace and ribbon. Today it is a bit of fabric called velvet from the West. It is the color of turquoise and has a strange feel to it. I marvel at the texture, which reminds me of the short fur on a lion cub’s nose. I thank him profusely and tuck the scrap into my pouch before moving deeper into the market.
My next stop is old Kasim, the storyteller. He is blind, but his mind is very sharp. His stories are the best in all of Constantinople. I settle down at the edge of the gathered crowd in the dirt. Most of his patrons carry rugs to sit upon, but I have none. Today’s story is about Aladdin and the magic lamp. I’ve heard it many times before but it is one of my favorites. After the story is through and the crowd has dispersed I approach Kasim on silent feet. It is a game we play.
„Hello, Fahima," he says to me. „How are you this fine afternoon?"
I giggle and reply, „I am well, Master Kasim, and you?"
I haven’t figured out how he knows I am there yet. I know it is not because he expects me since I cannot always get away from the villa. Kasim tells me that Bear whispers in his ear and tells him I am there. Since I have never seen Bear, I do not believe him. Perhaps he has magical powers like my master, but that cannot be either. My master is never up during the day.
Kasim replies that he is well but a bit parched.
I immediately offer to fetch him water from the market well and he turns over his water skin. I like getting water for Kasim because I have no coin to pay him for his wonderful tales. I quench my thirst at the well and return with Kasim’s water skin, which is very full now. He thanks me and I scamper off to my next stop.
Abu is a merchant that sells animals from all over the world. There is always something new and exciting to see. Most of the time, the creatures are too dangerous to touch but sometimes he has baby animals and he lets me hold them or pet them. Today, I am in luck! He has gotten cats in from Egypt. One has had kittens. They are so cute and playful. I long to take one home for myself. It doesn’t matter that I have no coin. My master will not let me have one. Oh how I have begged for one even to the point of making my master a bit cross. He tells me that cats are noble creatures and belong in temples where they are worshipped as gods, not as a little girl’s pet. I think he is being stupid and mean but I do not say as much. I sometimes wonder if he can read my mind because he often gives me a stern look when I think such things.
I play with the kittens, singing merrily and before long they have all been sold. I watch sadly as the last one leaves with a rich man who has purchased it for his daughter. The crowd around Abu’s large stall is considerable and many of the men are looking at me. I know this look. I have seen it before when I was sold at a harem slave auction a little over a year ago. My master’s face had been the only one that was kind, the only face that had not held this strange gleam. Abu has noticed the looks as well. He gives me a coin for helping him and sends me to buy a sweet cake. He admonishes me to hurry back like a good slave. I know he is telling me it is time to return to my master’s home. As I leave the stall I hear him firmly tell one man that I am not for sale. I dash off, quick as a monkey, through the crowded lane. I pause briefly to buy a sweet cake before delving deeper into the bazaar. The sun is still high and I have a bit more time before I must return home. I decided to watch the dancing girls at Hussein’s.
I should have listened to Abu.
Hussein is happy to see me as well. He tells me he has a special treat for me if I will sing while the girls dance. Abu’s warning vanishes from my mind at the prospect of a new treasure. I like to sing and always do for Hussein but this is the first time he has offered me something in return. I settle myself among the musicians and begin to sing. The sun dips lower and lower but I am having too much fun to notice. Dusk is upon the city and the vendors are starting to close their stalls when Hussein finally calls a halt to the dancing. He motions me over and hands me something small wrapped in a scrap of fine linen. The cloth itself was worth my effort and I tell Hussein as much but he is insistent that I take the gift inside as well. I eagerly unwrap the cloth. Nestled inside is a pretty carved cat made of wood. I am thrilled. Hussein knows of my love for cats. He smiles kindly at me and asks yet again if I will tell him who my master is. He wants to buy me. He says he will get me my own real kitten and that we will travel all over the world. I refuse to tell him yet again even with the temptation of a real kitten. I love my master. I do not wish to be parted from him. Hussein seems to understand and doesn’t press further. I tuck my gifts into my pouch. It is now that I notice it is almost fully dark. My heart pauses and then begins to race. My master will be up now and will know that I have snuck off alone. I quickly thank Hussein and run from the stall as fast as my feet will carry me.
The bazaar is still crowded with people as I weave around them heading for home. I try not to think of how angry my master will be. I have never openly disobeyed him before or at least I have never been caught disobeying him. I have just reached the opening to the street when a strong arm catches me from behind around my waist. As I am lifted from my feet, I wait for my master’s familiar voice.
„Seems I have caught me a songbird."
My blood freezes and my heart races even faster. This is not my master’s voice. It is the voice of a stranger. I look up and see it is the man who asked Abu if he could buy me. He looks down at me and smiles. It is not a nice smile. It sends more chills through my body, as does the look in his eyes. It is that strange look that I find so uncomfortable only it seems to be intensified. I begin to struggle. I tell the man that my master is expecting me. He only laughs and begins to stride away from the bazaar. For a moment, I think he is taking me home but my heart sinks as he turns off my street.
I begin to call out in desperation for my master, tears streaming down my face. I don’t think I have ever felt fear like this before, not even when my father took me away from my mother and left me with the harem slavers. I claw at the man’s arm around my waist but it has no effect. He presses me tighter against him. His arm digs into my chest making it hard to breath and almost impossible to cry out. I keep trying in desperation, screaming my master’s name weakly. Pleading with my master to come and save me.
One moment I am being kidnapped and the next I am sailing through the air. There is a brief second of exhilaration, as I truly believe I have been granted the gift of flight. That fantasy is shattered as I land on the hard-packed dirt with a thud. The air is pushed from my lungs. I want to breath but can’t. I turn my head and see my master through tear-filled eyes. At first I am relieved but then I see his face. I have never seen him this furious before or this scary looking. His face is twisted with rage and I can see sharp pointed teeth in his mouth. He is saying something to the man in a low menacing tone but I cannot hear what it is because my blood is pounding so loudly in my ears. I sit up, too horrified by what I am witnessing to realize that my breath has returned. I sob hysterically as my master grabs the man. My master’s sharp teeth sink into the man’s neck. I catch a glimpse of blood before my master turns the man’s body away from me. The man struggles against my master but strangely doesn’t scream. I wait for the cries of terror from onlookers but the street is empty.
The next thing I know my master eases the man’s lifeless body down to the dirt street to rest against the wall of a house. I cannot see any marks on the man but I know that my master has sucked all his blood out. My master turns to look at me. I want to run but my legs won’t work. I squeeze my eyes shut instead. My body trembles and shakes, partly from my tears and partly from terror. Warm arms wrap around me and I am suddenly encompassed in my master’s embrace. I wait for the terrible pain of his teeth ripping into my neck. Instead I am surprised when my master hugs me fiercely instead.
„Fahima! I was so worried when I woke and you were gone." His rich voice rumbles through his chest. I can feel it as well as hear it.
He pushes me away, holding me by my arms and gives me a shake. „What were you thinking, Fahima? How many times have I told you not to wander around by yourself? Did you think I was talking to hear myself talk? If I had not heard your cries…"
My master doesn’t finish his thought but pulls me back against his chest again. He is afraid. I have never seen my master afraid before. I understand enough that the man wanted to hurt me somehow but my master’s fear makes the experience that much more terrifying. My imagination runs wild with scary thoughts and I begin to sob anew.
My master lifts me up, gently cooing in my ear and hugging me tightly. He whispers words of reassurance and tells me that I am safe now. I cling to him as he carries me back home. I am confused by his actions. He has killed a man but he is treating me with such gentleness. The trip home passes quickly and the other servants welcome us. Normally, Crya, the head of the household servants, sees to my care, but my master shoos her away. My tears have ceased and I am quickly set at the table for my evening meal. I would never been allowed to eat as filthy as I am but my master seems distracted. He keeps looking at me. It is a strange look. Sometimes I think he is just reassuring himself that I am uninjured but then he looks at me as if he is just seeing me for the first time.
After my meal, he sees to my bath himself. He lectures me on how grimy and dirty I am, asking me if I have been rolling in the dirt with pigs. I giggle at the thought and wonder if I could try such a thing at Abu’s. The earlier incident between the man and my master is slowly fading. I didn’t like seeing my master that way. It is easy to forget it.
Finally, clean and dry, my master deposits me on his bed. Rarely am I allowed in his room. We are facing the arched opening to his private garden full of night blooming flowers. The thick heavy curtains have been drawn back and the heady scent of the flowers fills the room. My master gently brushes the tangles from my hair. He says nothing as he works and we sit in silence. I don’t mind. After a while, my hair is free of snares but my master continues to run the brush through my tresses with long, even strokes. This combined with the smell of jasmine and my full belly is making me sleepy. My eyes begin to droop and I keep swaying as I doze off again and again. Just as I am ready to fall over asleep, my master lifts me and tucks me into his bed. He has never let me sleep here before. I have a small room near his but not even during my worst nightmares has he ever brought me to his room. I smile up at him sleepily wondering what I have done to earn this honor.
„Promise me you will not leave alone again. From now on, beyond these walls you must take Salim with you. You may not go with Crya without him." His tone is firm.
Salim is the large Nubian slave that normally works in the stables. I have always been allowed to go with Crya to the market. Perhaps this is to be my punishment.
I nod thinking that this is not so bad a punishment after all.
My master smiles kindly. He leans down and kisses my brow before saying, „Do not think you have escaped punishment, little one. Tomorrow you will be too busy copying lines to do much else."
I groan. My master knows how much I hate copying lines. Still he seems to be in a lenient mood and I cannot help but try yet again for my heart’s desire.
„Master, can I have a kitten?" I ask as my eyes continue to slip shut no matter how hard I try to keep them open.
He chuckles softly. „Do not try my patience, Fahima. You are lucky to escape the flat of my hand upon your bottom."
I wince, my eyes no longer able to stay open. My master has never spanked me. I haven’t been spanked since I left the harem slavers. Spankings were frequent there. If you took one misstep the head eunuch was swift with his wood paddle. I do not wish to test my master’s patience further. Somehow a spanking from him would be much worse then any that wrinkled old eunuch could dole out.
He begins to gently stroke my hair away from my temple. His fingers are beginning to cool. I sigh and start to drift off to sleep. I am not sure if I imagine it or not but I could swear I heard my master whisper that he loves me.
I dream of sunshine, kittens, and cool arms wrapped around me. I dream that I am safe.
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