Chapter 14 Part I
"The time has come."
Wajeeh called out to Aliyy and finished the last of the preparations with a heavy sigh. He glanced over at his friend who had taken up a silent vigil by the slit in the canvas sometime after sunset. It was as if in refusing to look behind him, Aliyy would not acknowledge the grim truth that in the brief battle Nabil waged between life and death, the latter was winning.
Wajeeh had felt a small stirring of hope earlier when Faris had smuggled to them a small bundle of clothes and a pouch of whiskey stolen from one of the men. He had hoped by stripping Nabil of his bloody outer robe and tending to the wound with some rags soaked in alcohol perhaps these measures would have bought some much needed time. Nabil had barely flinched when the cloth came in contact with the inflamed wound on his shoulder, the only indication of the pain he must have felt sliding past his teeth in a long, guttural moan of agony. Aliyy held him down while Wajeeh continued cleaning the injury the best he could and Nabil's movements were weak and ineffective in shedding his constraints. When Wajeeh finished, they pulled onto Nabil's limp body another shorter robe and petitioned Allah with prayers of mercy to spare the young commander's life.
During the last few hours, as the sun slowly sank down into the horizon in a blaze of red and gold glory, Nabil's life seemed to ebb away. Wajeeh had suggested making the final measures and Aliyy reluctantly had agreed. Most likely unable to bear the sight of Wajeeh cleansing Nabil's body with the last of the rags, Aliyy had taken his post at the canvas, refusing to look backwards.
"We should begin the prayers," Wajeeh said sadly.
"Let there be no doubt you will hear my voice," Aliyy still refused to turn around. "Begin."
"Laa ilaaha il-lal-laah," said Wajeeh and Aliyy's voice echoed behind his.
Wajeeh folded Nabil's hands over his chest. "Allaahummagh-fir li Nabil warfa' darajatahoo filmahdeeyeen."
Aliyy finally stepped away from his post and reached down to the ground near Wajeeh, pulling the last section of cloth over the body.
"Waghfir lanaa walahoo yaa Rabbal-Aalameen," Wajeeh continued praying. "Wafsah lahoo fee qabrihee wa nawwir lahoo feeh."
"Aameen," Aliyy responded and both men fell silent. Wajeeh glanced over at Aliyy's impassive face and briefly wondered how deeply this would affect his friend.
"This is for the best," Wajeeh stated quietly.
Aliyy stood up to walk over to the tent's opening but paused to look back at Nabil's pale face. His face remained stoic but his voice was hoarse from the anguish.
"Explain to me how the death of a brother warrior is for the best? For all my years of service as a commander of the Medjai, any man's death is never for the best. Yet it serves a purpose that Allah has yet to reveal to me. Forgive me if I disagree. It is not easy to live by our oath yet I will gladly sacrifice my life to uphold it. I had hoped Nabil's life would not have been sacrificed so soon."
Wajeeh nodded his agreement and watched Aliyy walk over to the tent's opening to summons the guards. A few minutes later, two men walked through the opening, one pushing Aliyy back with the tip of his rifle.
"What is it you want, Medjai dog?" he snarled.
"We demand the body of our brother be taken for burial. He has finally passed," Wajeeh replied and rose up from the ground.
"You demand?" laughed the guard. "You are nothing but a scarab to be squashed."
The second guard walked over to the prone body lying on the ground, staring hard at it as if to detect any sign of life. He reached down, pulled back a section of the cloth and stared into at Nabil's face. Suddenly he leaned up and drew back his foot; lashing out and soundly kicked the warrior's side. A moment later he glanced over at the first guard and shook his head.
"Jahm will not be pleased," he concluded. "They are right, this man has died."
The first guard gave a low growl of frustration and jabbed Aliyy in the chest.
"Know this, warrior. I look forward to the chance when I can send you to meet your brother," he taunted.
Aliyy refused to respond although Wajeeh saw the amount of control it took his friend judging by his tightly clenched fists at his sides.
"Soon," the guard muttered his last threat and slowly backed towards the opening with the other man.
"Tell Faris to come drag the body out of here," he ordered the other guard and turned back staring at the two commanders with an evil grin. "Tell him to dispose of it out in the desert and let the scavengers pick at its carcass."
Aliyy muttered a dark curse and lunged at the man retreating through the opening, but Wajeeh stopped him and held him back.
"La, save your strength for when the time comes," Wajeeh advised and released his friend.
"You are right." Aliyy slowly nodded. "When the time comes, for Nabil and Ardeth we will have our retribution."
"So it shall be done," agreed Wajeeh.
The two commanders walked towards the back of the tent and waited for a few minutes until Faris arrived. They watched with impassive expressions as the boy came in with another man to remove the body. Wajeeh noted Faris kept his eyes averted as he gathered up the cloth covered warrior and quickly, carried it outside. Wajeeh followed and watched with a heavy heart as they gently placed it in the back of a long, two wheeled cart. He glanced up at Faris but before he could communicate any message, one of the guards was shoving him back inside.
"Stay back, Medjai. Your turn to ride in the cart will come soon enough," the guard snapped.
Wajeeh stumbled back inside the tent and glanced over at Aliyy. The two commanders exchanged a silent meaning with one another then both sat down cross-legged on the ground. There was nothing more to do at the moment except trust in Allah.
~*~
"What is this?" Asiya asked as Na'ima handed her a brown robe.
"This is for the warrior to wear tomorrow on his journey. I think you should be the one to give it to him," Na'ima replied.
Asiya shook her head so forcibly, her long braid of hair flipped over one shoulder and she tried to give the robe back.
"I cannot," Asiya whispered. "I would rather you do it."
"La," Na'ima shook her head and refused to take it. "I am not the one who loves him."
Asiya gave a small sad laugh and walked away from Na'ima, the robe still in her hands as she sat down on the edge of her pallet.
"I do not wish to love him. It is not meant to be," she murmured and stroked her hand over the soft brown material. "I have realized that now."
"You should also realize that he loves you as well," Na'ima informed her and came over to sit down next to Asiya on the pallet. "Anyone who talks to him can see it. Do you not think his love would be strong enough to sustain him so he can return to you?"
"I am confused and uncertain what to think," Asiya replied. "All I can think of is Ardeth dying a senseless death. I cannot bear the thought that I will never see him again."
"Can you not trust the warrior in him to help him survive? It has kept him alive through far more ferocious battles than we could possibly imagine. It will keep him alive during the journey he must undertake and it will bring him back to you."
"I am afraid to hope," Asiya whispered.
"I would be more afraid of losing him since I lacked the trust in his warrior abilities."
Na'ima rose up from the pallet and turned back to Asiya.
"Go to him tonight and tell him how you feel. Seize this rare chance Allah has given you for happiness and love before it's too late. Find the balance again; the scales have merely shifted but not toppled over from any additional weight," Na'ima advised from the doorway.
She left Asiya still sitting on the pallet and said a quick prayer in the hopes that her advice would not go unheeded.
~*~
Author's note: I felt the need to put the translation of the prayer at the end of this…
There is no God but Allah. O Allah, forgive Nabil and raise his level among the rightly guided.
Forgive us and forgive him, O Lord of all the worlds and expand his grave and illuminate it for him.
So be it.
"The time has come."
Wajeeh called out to Aliyy and finished the last of the preparations with a heavy sigh. He glanced over at his friend who had taken up a silent vigil by the slit in the canvas sometime after sunset. It was as if in refusing to look behind him, Aliyy would not acknowledge the grim truth that in the brief battle Nabil waged between life and death, the latter was winning.
Wajeeh had felt a small stirring of hope earlier when Faris had smuggled to them a small bundle of clothes and a pouch of whiskey stolen from one of the men. He had hoped by stripping Nabil of his bloody outer robe and tending to the wound with some rags soaked in alcohol perhaps these measures would have bought some much needed time. Nabil had barely flinched when the cloth came in contact with the inflamed wound on his shoulder, the only indication of the pain he must have felt sliding past his teeth in a long, guttural moan of agony. Aliyy held him down while Wajeeh continued cleaning the injury the best he could and Nabil's movements were weak and ineffective in shedding his constraints. When Wajeeh finished, they pulled onto Nabil's limp body another shorter robe and petitioned Allah with prayers of mercy to spare the young commander's life.
During the last few hours, as the sun slowly sank down into the horizon in a blaze of red and gold glory, Nabil's life seemed to ebb away. Wajeeh had suggested making the final measures and Aliyy reluctantly had agreed. Most likely unable to bear the sight of Wajeeh cleansing Nabil's body with the last of the rags, Aliyy had taken his post at the canvas, refusing to look backwards.
"We should begin the prayers," Wajeeh said sadly.
"Let there be no doubt you will hear my voice," Aliyy still refused to turn around. "Begin."
"Laa ilaaha il-lal-laah," said Wajeeh and Aliyy's voice echoed behind his.
Wajeeh folded Nabil's hands over his chest. "Allaahummagh-fir li Nabil warfa' darajatahoo filmahdeeyeen."
Aliyy finally stepped away from his post and reached down to the ground near Wajeeh, pulling the last section of cloth over the body.
"Waghfir lanaa walahoo yaa Rabbal-Aalameen," Wajeeh continued praying. "Wafsah lahoo fee qabrihee wa nawwir lahoo feeh."
"Aameen," Aliyy responded and both men fell silent. Wajeeh glanced over at Aliyy's impassive face and briefly wondered how deeply this would affect his friend.
"This is for the best," Wajeeh stated quietly.
Aliyy stood up to walk over to the tent's opening but paused to look back at Nabil's pale face. His face remained stoic but his voice was hoarse from the anguish.
"Explain to me how the death of a brother warrior is for the best? For all my years of service as a commander of the Medjai, any man's death is never for the best. Yet it serves a purpose that Allah has yet to reveal to me. Forgive me if I disagree. It is not easy to live by our oath yet I will gladly sacrifice my life to uphold it. I had hoped Nabil's life would not have been sacrificed so soon."
Wajeeh nodded his agreement and watched Aliyy walk over to the tent's opening to summons the guards. A few minutes later, two men walked through the opening, one pushing Aliyy back with the tip of his rifle.
"What is it you want, Medjai dog?" he snarled.
"We demand the body of our brother be taken for burial. He has finally passed," Wajeeh replied and rose up from the ground.
"You demand?" laughed the guard. "You are nothing but a scarab to be squashed."
The second guard walked over to the prone body lying on the ground, staring hard at it as if to detect any sign of life. He reached down, pulled back a section of the cloth and stared into at Nabil's face. Suddenly he leaned up and drew back his foot; lashing out and soundly kicked the warrior's side. A moment later he glanced over at the first guard and shook his head.
"Jahm will not be pleased," he concluded. "They are right, this man has died."
The first guard gave a low growl of frustration and jabbed Aliyy in the chest.
"Know this, warrior. I look forward to the chance when I can send you to meet your brother," he taunted.
Aliyy refused to respond although Wajeeh saw the amount of control it took his friend judging by his tightly clenched fists at his sides.
"Soon," the guard muttered his last threat and slowly backed towards the opening with the other man.
"Tell Faris to come drag the body out of here," he ordered the other guard and turned back staring at the two commanders with an evil grin. "Tell him to dispose of it out in the desert and let the scavengers pick at its carcass."
Aliyy muttered a dark curse and lunged at the man retreating through the opening, but Wajeeh stopped him and held him back.
"La, save your strength for when the time comes," Wajeeh advised and released his friend.
"You are right." Aliyy slowly nodded. "When the time comes, for Nabil and Ardeth we will have our retribution."
"So it shall be done," agreed Wajeeh.
The two commanders walked towards the back of the tent and waited for a few minutes until Faris arrived. They watched with impassive expressions as the boy came in with another man to remove the body. Wajeeh noted Faris kept his eyes averted as he gathered up the cloth covered warrior and quickly, carried it outside. Wajeeh followed and watched with a heavy heart as they gently placed it in the back of a long, two wheeled cart. He glanced up at Faris but before he could communicate any message, one of the guards was shoving him back inside.
"Stay back, Medjai. Your turn to ride in the cart will come soon enough," the guard snapped.
Wajeeh stumbled back inside the tent and glanced over at Aliyy. The two commanders exchanged a silent meaning with one another then both sat down cross-legged on the ground. There was nothing more to do at the moment except trust in Allah.
~*~
"What is this?" Asiya asked as Na'ima handed her a brown robe.
"This is for the warrior to wear tomorrow on his journey. I think you should be the one to give it to him," Na'ima replied.
Asiya shook her head so forcibly, her long braid of hair flipped over one shoulder and she tried to give the robe back.
"I cannot," Asiya whispered. "I would rather you do it."
"La," Na'ima shook her head and refused to take it. "I am not the one who loves him."
Asiya gave a small sad laugh and walked away from Na'ima, the robe still in her hands as she sat down on the edge of her pallet.
"I do not wish to love him. It is not meant to be," she murmured and stroked her hand over the soft brown material. "I have realized that now."
"You should also realize that he loves you as well," Na'ima informed her and came over to sit down next to Asiya on the pallet. "Anyone who talks to him can see it. Do you not think his love would be strong enough to sustain him so he can return to you?"
"I am confused and uncertain what to think," Asiya replied. "All I can think of is Ardeth dying a senseless death. I cannot bear the thought that I will never see him again."
"Can you not trust the warrior in him to help him survive? It has kept him alive through far more ferocious battles than we could possibly imagine. It will keep him alive during the journey he must undertake and it will bring him back to you."
"I am afraid to hope," Asiya whispered.
"I would be more afraid of losing him since I lacked the trust in his warrior abilities."
Na'ima rose up from the pallet and turned back to Asiya.
"Go to him tonight and tell him how you feel. Seize this rare chance Allah has given you for happiness and love before it's too late. Find the balance again; the scales have merely shifted but not toppled over from any additional weight," Na'ima advised from the doorway.
She left Asiya still sitting on the pallet and said a quick prayer in the hopes that her advice would not go unheeded.
~*~
Author's note: I felt the need to put the translation of the prayer at the end of this…
There is no God but Allah. O Allah, forgive Nabil and raise his level among the rightly guided.
Forgive us and forgive him, O Lord of all the worlds and expand his grave and illuminate it for him.
So be it.