The Legend of a Saracen Princess
Chapter 3: She's All I Want
()….()
A sharp rapping on Safiya's door caused her to shoot up into a seated position, reaching for her blade with her right hand while her left clutched the change purse to her chest protectively.
It wasn't until her eyes popped open that she realized she was back at home in the safety of her palace. Well, as safe as one could get in the middle of the Holy Wars. "Come in," she answered to the knocking, trying to calm herself. She watched as the door creaked open, revealing a young girl in dark robes not nearly as nice as the ones that hung on her intricate bedpost.
"Sabakhr Kher, Princess," the girl murmured, bowing. She glanced up at Safiya and met her eyes briefly, revealing two large, dark orbs surrounded by long, elegant lashes. Safiya had no doubt that this girl was beautiful and had she not worn the veil, men would be distracted by her presence. 'Especially in the forest,' she thought ruefully.
Safiya watched as the girl's eyes drifted over her hair, noting the boyish cut she had taken. "What is it?" Safiya asked her, feeling slightly defensive.
"I have been ordered to come and prepare you for today, Princess," her curious eyes dropped to the leather purse still tightly clutched in her hand.
Her eyes focused on the servant girl before her, feeling fury well up inside of her. "You will not assist me with such a simple task," she told her, seething, "Get out of my room! I can dress myself!"
The girl's eyes widened, revealing her fear before getting up from her bowing position and rushing out of the room. Safiya stared at the door as it slammed shut. Guilt sprouted within her at the way she treated the girl.
Sighing, she crawled out of bed and dressed herself in her robes, adjusting them accordingly before placing the golden wreath on her head. Looking down at the change purse sitting on her bedside table, she sighed. "I want to be back in the forest," she murmured, before gracefully reaching under her robes and putting the memorable item in her pants-pocket.
As Safiya neared her bedroom door, she heard voices whispering softly right outside her door. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but it was clear that one voice was male and the other was a female. Safiya opened the door to see Haissam and her maidservant. They seemed to be deep in argument.
"Layla, Safiya is not angry with you, I promise."
"You should have seen her face, Haissam, it was frightening."
They didn't seem to notice that she was standing before them, her eyes shifting between the two, silently observing each of the two people before her. Her eyes rested on Haissam's, shock flooding through her. She had seen that look before, she just couldn't remember where. Her mind raked for the memory, where had she seen those eyes-
"Will," she found herself murmuring, startling both of the people in front of her.
"What about Will?" Haissam asked her.
"Will had the same look you have right now. He used to look at something special, and that look would pass on his face. It was as if he'd seen a beautiful treasure he didn't want to let go."
Safiya smirked when she saw Haissam's cheeks turn red. She left him in indignant silence as she turned to face Layla, her big doe-like eyes staring at her in wonder. "How old are you, Layla?"
"S-seventeen, Princess," she responded, her eyes averting to the floor.
"Do not be afraid of me. I just have grown used to not having someone attending to my every need."
"I understand."
"From now on, when you come to my room, it will be for a chat, not to serve me, do you understand?" she said, her voice soft.
Layla's eyes shot up to meet hers, a new light in them. "Yes, Princess, thank you."
Safiya nodded and watched as Layla left Haissam and her to head back to the servants' quarters, leaving Haissam and Safiya to go to the Grand Throne Room. "That is where you will be meeting Prince Am'an," Haissam explained, "You know, you did not have to say that in front of Layla."
"It was the only way to shut you up. Did I offend you?"
"No, you did not offend me; it is just that I did not want Layla to know I feel that way about her yet." Safiya looked up at her guard in shock. "What?"
"I was right?"
"You were guessing?" Safiya was silent. "Well, yes, you are right. I plan to confess soon."
"She seems beautiful."
"She is."
"You've seen her already?" It was Haissam's turn at silence. "How?"
"I walked in on her while she was dressing." Safiya looked at him in wide-eyed shock, "No! I did not see her body, just her face! Safiya, do not think that of me."
"I did not think anything different of you." It was on that note that they reached the giant double doors of the Grand Throne Room.
"And, Princess, Will looked at you that way."
"He did not."
"I saw it with my own eyes, you cannot deny it."
"I never saw what you keep saying was there. Therefore, I do not believe you."
Haissam moved in front of Safiya with a resigned sigh and pushed open both intricately carved doors.
All conversation in the room stopped. Safiya saw Jamal standing before a man seated on a portable throne. It had been a long time since Safiya had seen the cold, dark eyes of Prince Am'an. Her eyes took in his neat hair, long and silky, just like his clothes, falling just above his shoulders in layers. One would be able to tell he was royalty from the crown on his head to the expensive-looking shoes adorning his olive colored feet. His dark-olive hands rested on detailed armrests from a chair he himself brought and took the liberty of placing it across from her father's throne.
'Will would admire his throne,' she thought with a smile.
"Ahlan, Prince Am'an," she bowed as he stood to greet her.
"Salaam alaikuum, Princess Safiya," she straightened to see him bow as well, before straightening to make his way over to her.
Taking her hand and smiling, Prince Am'an spoke first in the silence, "Your eyes are the most exotic I've seen since my mother's."
"Shookran," she murmured, slipping her hand out of his and taking a step back, keeping her eyes trained on her feet. She hated that it had to be him that complimented her eyes. The thought of him being the only one to pay her a compliment of any kind for the rest of her life sent chills of dread up her spine.
"How were your travels, Prince Am'an?" she asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from her for the time being.
()….()
Will Scarlett had been walking alongside the Captain's horse for what seemed like days. He looked up at the sky and noted, much to his dismay, that it must've barely been noon, which meant that they'd only been moving for about four hours.
The whole time, the Captain and he only exchanged the necessary introduction. All that Will had learned of Captain Daniel Bradford of Ipswich in their short time together was that he was a strong man, he was still young, but he had a sort of wisdom about him, like Robin did at times. His hair was dark, almost black, and his eyes a soft brown that always seemed ready to comfort; his lips always carried a ready smile. He rode his horse a tall, proud man and it was obvious as to why he had been appointed as Captain. His strength could only be compared by few in his small regiment.
So far neither Will nor Daniel had said anything that could start a conversation to one another. Both were deep in thought as they progressed through the forests of England.
"So what are you setting out to do, William Scarlett of Locksley?" asked the Captain.
"I'm searching for someone."
"And you're sure that this person is in the Holy Lands?"
"Yes." Captain Bradford seemed to consider this as him and Will fell back into silence. It was silent until they reached port that evening.
Daniel called everyone to a meeting once they were done setting up camp. "You may go into town and enjoy yourselves. It will be your last night on English soil for a long time."
The men dispersed rapidly, leaving Will, Daniel and a soldier that kept himself close to the front. He lingered beside the campfire, toying with his things a little ways away from Daniel and Will. "They are much more enthusiastic than Robin," Will noted.
"That is because they have not experienced the horrors of war," Daniel explained, turning from the sight of the retreating recruits back to Will.
"Say, what's your name?" Will turned to see the man that had been fiddling with his bag in the distance sidling up to Will and Daniel.
"William Scarlett of Locksley," Will replied, ducking his head briefly in polite greeting.
"William, I'm Eric Chapham of Bath," he smiled unarmingly, causing Will to relax. "How would you like to accompany me to the local pub?"
"Sure," he replied, and after saying farewell to the Captain, he and Eric were off to the local pub.
It was easy conversation that flowed from Eric. And Will found himself happily listening, not really having any desire to speak. The pub itself was not hard to find, for as they hit the outskirts of town, they noticed only two buildings teaming with the soldiers in their traveling party. The bar residing in the local inn and the large pub two buildings down.
"The pub looks a little too full," Eric commented, making his way toward the inn, which was only slightly less crowded. Will glanced in the direction of the stand-alone pub once more, taking note of the men dancing and laughing to music inside the building. The doors were open and people moved in and out. A slight smile threatened his lips before turning back to the inn delightfully taking in the abundance of space here where the pub did not. "Place is still a lot more busy than one would like," Eric sighed, "But as I always say: 'Tis better to enjoy a drink with too many than no one at all."
Will nodded in agreement as they took their seats at one of the center tables. He took this time to observe Eric, taking in his messy blonde hair that almost looked white, due to the sun just like any man that worked fields; his eyes were green with a young glint shining in their depths. He didn't look a day past twenty-two, Will mused as their mugs were set before them by the bartender himself.
"So, tell me… William?"
"Call me Will."
"Okay, Will, why are you going to the Holy Lands?"
"I'm searching for someone," Will replied, taking a sip of his ale.
"Ohh!" a high-pitched voice squealed, causing Will and Eric to look up at the voluptuous barmaid that stood at their table, her hand on her right. Said hip was pushed to the side, as she looked down over her ample breasts at Will. Her pale green eyes were framed by her curly blonde hair; they darkened once they settled on Will's eyes. "You are a handsome one," her lips settled into a pout, "Why are you not in uniform?"
"I'm no soldier, Miss," he answered.
"Well, no matter," she said as she sat down beside him, scooting closer than was comfortable for him. "Are you lonely? I could show you a good time…" her face was now inches away from his, but Will found himself unaffected, he just stared into her eyes, wishing she would just leave him be.
"No," Will replied, gently pushing her away.
"Don' tell me you don' like what you see?" she asked, crossing her arms under her chest, an ever present pout on her face. Will stared at her, thinking back to the time he would have been willing to accept any female company. Before Djaq. This girl would have been a goddess to him. His eyes tightened as he refocused on the girl.
"Go find another man to satisfy your needs," Will finally said.
The buxom girl could only glare and stalk away in a silent huff. Will's piercing green eyes followed her and was satisfied in his assumption that she would have no trouble finding a new partner as he watched her sit in another man's lap and hungrily lock lips with him before turning back to Eric.
"What'd you do that for? She was the best looking wench 'ere!" Eric wasn't angry; he wasn't even miffed, his eyes shone with genuine confusion.
"I don't want her," Will took another swig from his mug.
"Does this have anything to do with that someone you're looking for?"
Will set his cup down and let his eyes meet Eric's. He watched as understanding dawned in Eric. "It's a she." Will nodded. "What happened to her to make her have to go to the Holy Lands?"
Will contemplated an easy way to divulge any serious information. "She's gone to war."
"She's a soldier?"
"No."
"Then how has she gone to war if she's not a soldier?" Will was getting tired of talking about Djaq to him. It was different than if he were to talk to Robin. Or even Much, the most assertive of the group. They wouldn't have asked questions. They would have waited until Will was ready to speak. Although, Much would just begin talking of silly subjects until Will was willing to divulge any secrets he had.
"I don't want to talk about it." His eyes lowered to the table. He knew that Eric was looking upon him with some sort of pity, be it good-natured or offended. He did not want to see that look.
"Well, you'll ne'er believe wha' happened while I was relievin' myself in the woods today," Eric began attempting to steer them away from their previous topic. Will gratefully looked up at Eric and listened as he told of his episode in the woods, letting his mind tear away from Djaq for just this one night. If only to ease the pain.
()….()
"Prince Am'an, we must discuss what is to take place in order for you to aid us in the Holy Wars."
"Ah, yes. You wish to speak of the wedding, Princess," Am'an answered, his fingers drumming against his armrest.
"It was growing late and Safiya was growing tired of Am'an's presence. He constantly spoke of himself and left no room for any reply for her. Jamal sat beside Haissam, both watching the two interact. In just a glance in their direction, Safiya could tell that Haissam was bored and Jamal was anxious. Sighing, she turned back to Am'an as he began naming off dates.
"How soon would you like it, my princess?" Am'an finally asked, "Would two weeks from tonight give enough time for preparation?" he continued, "In Persia, that is almost too much time—"
"Two weeks will be fine. When will you begin sending in your soldiers?"
"As soon as a messenger can reach my general."
"Shookran," she may have hated the idea of marrying this man, but she was willing to trade anything for the protection of her land. Her hand rested on her pocket, allowing her some comfort.
"I will be staying here until after the ceremony," Am'an began again, "after which we will travel back to Persia, your new home." Her hand clenched the cloth hiding her figurine. He was to stay here? Her eyes shot toward Jamal, glaring daggers of fury. He would only burden her more with tales of his triumphs.
"That will be all, Prince Am'an, I must retire to my room for I am tired," she stood up, turning to Haissam, "Haissam." Immediately Haissam shot up and was at her side, bowing and following as she began to exit the throne room. "Jamal you will escort our guest to his quarters." With that, Safiya and Haissam were on their way to her bedroom.
After making sure they were a safe distance from the throne room, she turned to Haissam, "I need to be alone, Haissam. Is Baba's lab still here?" Haissam nodded. "Good, I will be there if you need me." She turned down a hallway that was not her own and silently made her way to her father's laboratory.
Upon reaching the doors, she stopped.
()….()
Translations:
Sabakhr Kher-- Good morning
Ahlan-- Hello(informal)
Salaam Alaikuum-- Hello(formal)/ Peace be with you
Shookran-- Thank you
Author's Note: Thank you all for keeping up with me. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Don't worry, you'll see more of Robin and the gang later. Just not this chapter. Constructive criticism is much appreciated.