Author's notes: Thank you SSSOOOOOOOO much for all the kind reviews! I really, really appreciate it! And I was wondering, I have a horrible habit to completely miss spelling errors that my spell check refuses to fix, can anyone recomend a good online checker? Like writing of instead of if, I don't do it intentionally, and when I proof read it's easy to miss ya see.
I'm certainly doing this an awful lot faster than I thought I would be, I'm so happy people are enjoying it! Thanks so much!!!
Obscene Halo
The cart ride home to Jerusalem was unbearably uncomfortable. I hugged myself, my stricken eyes wide at the rumbling wooden floor, wisps of hair blurring my vision in the breeze. My husband's co-workers had not joined us this time.
Daring myself to see him eye to eye, I was surprised to find when I looked up, he too was staring at the floor, absentmindedly playing with his thumb and index finger. I have seen him frightened before, but I've never seen him this apprehensive. His brows were drawn, mouth set in a hard line, shoulders hunched forward and his forehead was creased with worry lines.
I joined my hands together, intertwining my thumbs and praying silently in my head. God, if my husband were to find out that the assassin guarding our house was the one who not only attacked me, but was the one I committed adultery with (regardless of consent), he may just lash out and have me killed.
I could feel bile rising in my throat as I thought of his furious expression, his hateful, seething words, his viciously hard beatings. My husband would never go so far as to seriously injure me, or even beat me for that matter, but with this… I wasn't so sure.
And then, then there was the notion of the other two assassins accompanying him. To where exactly, and for what? Regardless if I loved the man or not, I have lived with him for just over a year and a half, and there was some sort of connection there. Was he… going to be killed?
If I find that you are of ill deed, that you are playing games of trickery against the Creed that asked the simple task of receiving a package, they are on strict orders to kill you without a moment's thought. Understood? I remembered Al Mualim's words, I did not doubt that my husband was a con man, but how did he get himself into such a dangerous situation?
The Creed that asked the simple task? Was he approached by them, perhaps threatened? Lord, Mundhir, what have you gotten yourself into?
I reached out a shaking hand, in an effort to comfort him in any way I could. Laying my hand on his, he slowly met my gaze and I smiled sympathetically, but he simply shook his head, and shrugged away my touch. I stiffened.
Finally, we returned home. I removed my shoes, awkwardly stepping into our warm house, Adham's booming bark greeting me as I entered the lounge. I patted his head, hearing my husband trudge up the stone stairs into our bedroom.
Everything seemed dreamy, like it was lost in a haze, and the last few hours barely existed. What happened to make my life change so rapidly?
Is this punishment for defying my husband? It certainly seemed that way.
I sat down, trying to sort my dizzy, seemingly emotionless head out. My husband soon returned with a sheep-skin bag, possibly of clothes and other items for travel. He avoided my gaze, shakily setting the bag on the floor.
He was leaving.
Oh God, what for? Was he in danger? Was I in danger? For how long would he be away? How would I cope here without him? What was all this about?
"M-Mundhir…?" He looked up at me, eyes full of doubt and worry, mine much the same.
I was about to ask him, plead with him to tell me of his absence, but as always I was interrupted, this time by a hard knock on the front door. He wordlessly left to answer it, and I was left in the lounge, staring around, as if this house was alien to me.
The gruff murmur of men's voices followed. I shuddered violently as my husband, along with three white-robed assassins entered the room and I forced my eyes to find purchase in the floor. My heart was thudding wildly in my chest, Adham jumped off his cushion, protectively growling by my side. I grabbed a handful of his black fur, trying to pull him back to restrain him, but he is too large a dog for my small hands, and continued to snarl and the unknown men.
The one on the far left, the tall, broader one of the three ignored the dog, the other two however stared incredulously at him.
My husband guided them out into the kitchen, my heart speeding up fiercely as the taller one brushed past me, the familiar scent rushing over me in a wave. My eyes slid shut, for just a second.
My husband closed the thin wooden doors, though he did not tell me to leave, so I stayed put, stroking Adham's fur in an effort to calm him. The dog nuzzled into my touch, pressing his wet nose against my thigh. Just one of the little things that makes me smile.
I got up silently and pressed my ear against the door, trying to decipher the murmur of voices, but they were still speaking low, and I pressed harder in frustration. The dog whined for attention, startling me and I hushed him quickly, my brows knitting together in concentration. I didn't catch a word.
They stopped talking, forcing me to dart back to my seat just as my husband pushed open the doors and, without even looking at me, grabbed his bag, his expression grave. The assassins stayed in the kitchen.
I reached out to him before he could go back. "Mundhir, wait."
He turned to me, my husband, full of worry, his brow sweating, his skin pale. I've only ever seen him look like this once or twice before, and it always meant something unpleasant would soon rear it's ugly head and bang down my door. My hand was on his arm, he felt cold to the touch.
"Please," I said, my voice a bare whisper, "tell me what is going on."
His chestnut eyes slid to the floor, eyes darting back and fourth as if searching the tiles for the right answer. Then he looked up at me, trying to look sympathetic. "Don't worry, my darling. Everything… will be alright. I have to travel with two of those assassins. Another will stay here, so you…"
But he trailed off, and I understood. I was in danger, was what he was trying to say.
However, I, too worried and too fearful and frustrated with today's events would not take that as an answer.
"Mundhir! Please, tell me! I worry myself sick over this! For how long will you be gone, to where? And God, Mundhir, why?" I cried, pleading with him for a decent answer, my voice high and verging on tears.
How dare I talk to him in such a manner, but this situation was far too important for me to stay docile and calm. I watched the flush slowly rise in his cheeks. He was angry with me, with everything really. "I can't tell you. And I don't know for how long, but by God woman stay your tongue! This is far too dangerous for you."
I was rather tired of that. I was always confused, always out of the loop, playing guessing games with him and his activities in his work. I was sick of it, he treated me as if I could not comprehend the matter. Though I may be a woman, I was no fool, and keeping me in the dark served no purpose other than to confuse and worry me!
"Why not?" I pose. "Must I always be kept in the dark? What have you done to bring murderers into our house? Why must you leave, with that look of death on your face?!"
I knew I over-stepped my mark by questioning him and this very delicate situation and he bared his teeth in a snarl, warning me.
But I, worried and horrified by my own actions and driven by fear and anger stood my ground.
"Be quiet woman!" He hissed, trying to hush me, but that only served to pushed me further. I stamped my foot on the cool, hard tiles, hurting my heel.
"Mundhir-"
He cut me off, his hand connecting sharply with the right side of my face with such force I was thrown backwards onto the cushions. Adham jumped at the noise and barked loudly at my husband, who's face was reddening in rage.
"Not like this." He hissed. "Don't make me leave like this."
My right eyes stung and watered, I tasted copper in my mouth. Raising a hand to my lip, I felt the moist, tell-tale sign of blood; I had bitten my lip when he hit me.
Right… I should… I should have known better than to question him in such a way. I should have stayed quiet when he asked me to. I was shaking, still shocked and afraid that he struck me, but I soon calmed, and my husband was back in the kitchen.
If he dies… I'll be completely alone. I can't make it in this life as a widow. Who will bring in the money, who could possibly take care of a useless woman like myself? I couldn't go back home, my parents wouldn't allow it.
What about the house? What about the food? What about the debt collectors? Or his family? His job? His wife?
I hastily wiped the blood away on the sleeve of my dress, Adham whimpering beside me in fright. I hugged him tightly around the neck and he settled. My lip stung, my right cheekbone ached and throbbed, but I suppose it was my own fault. I should have held my tongue.
I don't… I don't think I'll miss him when he leaves. Perhaps this time apart will help… sort me out. But then it might just make me feel worse, with the presence of that assassin here, the one from the other night no less.
He returned, his bag swung over his shoulder, the two assassins following behind him. Taking my arm, he caught my gaze and I noticed his eyes were bloodshot, his face gaunt and pale.
"I don't know when I will be back…" He said, chestnut eyes locking with mine. "But I will be back, I promise you. Take… take care."
He embraced me, entwining his arms around my shoulders. Shaking, he kissed the top of my head, burying his nose into my hair.
"I… I love you. Remember that." He whispered.
I wished, for once I could just tell him I loved him back, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. I can't keep lying. So instead I simply returned the embrace, and he soon let go, smiling solemnly before he left the room after patting Adham on the head.
I flinched when the door shut, hugging my arms tightly around me.
And then, well, I just didn't quite know what to do with myself. I think I stood there for a good five minutes staring at the embroidery of the rug on the floor. It was so silent… so blessedly silent.
But I remembered I wasn't quite alone.
A shudder passed over me, and I peered into the kitchen, terrified of what I might find. How uncomfortable was this going to be for me, for him?
Altair…?
The kitchen was empty.
Straining my ears, the only noise I could hear was Adham's deep breathing, the gentle chatter of the town below the hill which the row of houses on my street is situated, and the rustling of cloth as the tattered curtain billowed with the breeze from the window.
I gulped, an extreme sense of foreboding passing over me like cold water on my skin. Hastily, I ran through the downstairs rooms, out the back around the wall where I keep the buckets and stone basin for water, but still nothing.
How… odd. Biting my nails, I near ran back through the lounge and up the stairs to the bedroom, but found it empty, like all the other rooms in the house.
Slowly, I made my way back downstairs, befuddled as to the whereabouts of the man, and ran a hand through my hair, trying to detangle some of the knots that worked their way into the wavy strands. I cringed, thinking vaguely that he might be behind me, a flurry of frightening images racing through my head.
I sighed. This was going to be a long, long day.
It was night, and still no sign of the assassin. Perhaps he was avoiding me? I couldn't blame him, this was quite the predicament. Maybe he's afraid I'll shout at him, or ask him awkward questions, or…
Wait… how could I possibly strike fear into a man like that?
Or perhaps he found something more interesting to do.
That irked me. And I can't quite figure out why. Maybe it's because I…
Then again, it's not like he's been doing his job from the start, no one can get bored that quickly. I've been alone in the house all day, when I went into town to get water from the well, I was alone then too. When I went back into town to pick up some fruit, I was still alone. Having an argument with the trader about the price, yes, still alone.
Why was it bothering me again? I huffed.
God, I was so bored. Without my husband being here, I've managed to get everything done in half a day, where as any other time it might take me one, or even two days to get everything done. I cleaned the house from top to bottom, I cured the meat, I got copious amounts of water, I bathed, I darned an old dress of mine, I washed all the material in the house, which took no time at all to dry in the sun. And now I just don't know what to do with myself.
So, I took some well needed rest on my favourite pile of cushions in the lounge, and talked to God by candlelight. My mother recommended doing this regularly, and I find it very calming, soothing for the soul.
God always listens, and doesn't pry or pinch at you.
But then, God can't talk back either, so it does have it's down sides, but it feels nice to vent once and a while.
I prayed for safety, I prayed for my husband, for everything really. And I repented, as I always did.
My musings were interrupted by Adham, who tweaked an ear and rose off the cushions, padding softly outside to the back, his claws tapping against the tiles. I kept a sharp eye on him, my neighbours hated the dog, and got very irritated with even the slightest growl from him. And at this time at night, I doubt they would take too kindly to him outside.
No sooner had I relaxed, than Adham's booming snarl shocked me from my prayers and I rushed outside to calm him, nearly breaking my ankle in the dark on my way out the back.
The dog looked livid, his gnashing teeth bared, eyes wide with fury and fur reared back. Wondering what got him into such a state, I pulled him back about the neck from the wall he was barking at, trying to restrain him. But Adham was a relatively large dog, the arch of his back was to my hip, and he was far too strong for me.
"Shh, Adham, enough! Shh!" I hissed, terrified my neighbours would come out and start swearing at me again, but the dog continued to bark, eyes wide at the roof and growling.
What could have made him so furious?
Fortunately, there is a special place at the nape of the dog's neck when, if pulled, easily calms him. I locked my fingers around the convulsing, yapping throat and pulled lightly, rhythmically on the fur, and the dog soon calmed, nuzzling into my touch. I hushed his whimpering, snarl still set at the roof of the house, ears back, cautious. He stood protectively by my side. I looked up to see what set him off.
And sure enough, there was the missing assassin. He was hunched on his knees, almost like a coiled cat ready to strike, the moonlight against his back like a most obscene halo.
Covered completely in darkness, all I saw was the silhouette, the glint of his eyes as he looked down at me from beneath his hood, studying me. I squinted in the darkness, my body unusually still, and his poised, leaning on the roof as though it were his throne.
My God, even in complete darkness he looks a vision. Like an ethereal being, some celestial wonder, from fairytales and folklore the old man in the village would entertain me and my brothers and sisters with. The moonlight shone brightly white against his robes, glinting off the armour where the light struck, stars that were glittering candles caressing his broad frame.
But he is no knight, and I am no princess. He is more like an angel. An angel with blood red wings of death and the knives to prove it. Or a bird of prey, with talons coated in flesh and curdling screams, repressed and choked cries. A snake, staring down it's prey, inching towards it ever closer and baring fangs filled with venom. A cat, slinking in the night, stalking almost.
What was he thinking about…? So much I didn't know…
I petted Adham, forcing him to stop his vicious glare, letting him know the man on the roof was not his foe.
Must we always meet in the dark? That night had long since haunted me, invaded my thoughts, my dreams. My stupid, wistful mind of a woman dreaming of a lover such as he, pathetic wishes, hope wasted on the hopeless.
But I couldn't help but smile, like he did when I asked for his name. It was only slight, but I still saw it. I know I saw it.
I knew it now, anyway.
Taking a hold of the fur around Adham's neck, I pulled him back towards the house, slowly as it was difficult to coax him to move.
"I'm sorry about the dog, Altair." I purposely accentuated his name, letting him know I knew it now, and savoured the feeling of it rolling out of my mouth in my thick Jerusalem accent. Such acts should be classified as sin, and I knew I would be repenting for this tonight before I finally slept. But for once I didn't care.
Perhaps it was just me imagining things, but I would swear he was smiling, amused at my efforts to force the large canine back into the house. Finally, Adham was safely back in the lounge, curling up on a stuffy cushion. I resisted the urge to go back outside, just to look at him, but I had a feeling he would be gone if I did, so I chose to go to bed instead.
And as I curled up under my pretty patchwork quilt, I prayed and prayed until I fell asleep, my last prayer was one to keep Altair safe as well.
Then another, asking God for forgiveness, pleading for him to not let me fall in love with such a dangerous man.
The next morning, I awoke at dawn as I always did, but decided to stay in bed to give myself a rest. Nothing needed doing, nothing special today. Perhaps I would go down to the well to chat with some of the women from the city, but that could wait until later.
I rolled over, half expecting to see my husband beside me, but then remembering the events of yesterday.
My heart fell. My right cheek was still sore.
I got up a few short hours after sunrise and padded downstairs, Adham greeting me as I walked into the kitchen, his tail wagging and scratching at the side of the door to be allowed outside. I took heed, opening the door for him and looking out at the sky. It was cloudless, a warm morning. I opened the windows too.
The fruit from yesterday was not quite ripe yet, I made a face at the bitter taste of my apple, but ate it anyway.
"Morning."
I jumped and dropped my fruit, clutching my heart. The bitter juice stuck in my throat and I coughed in surprise, turning wildly to find the source of the voice.
A thick stream of swear words in Arabic flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. In my surprise, I clamped my hands over my mouth to stop the torrent of obscenities, still coughing. How… er, graceful.
"I'm so sorry! Lord, you scared me half to death, Altair!" How was that for a greeting?
He shook his hooded head. "… My apologies."
Though he didn't sound sincere. Then again, his voice was quiet with the merest hint of a growl, so I couldn't really tell. He was smirking, obviously at the fact I was still coughing to force the apple still lodged in my throat. I finally cleared it, and stared pointedly at him.
"How did you get in without me seeing you?"
"The window, you had your back turned." He shrugged. I rose a brow.
His robes were the same as always, a beautiful white, and I felt slightly self conscious in my sleeping dress, my hair knotted and my eyes swollen from sleep. He was wearing his shoes. In the house. My eyebrow twitched. Should I say something? God yes, I spent half the day yesterday cleaning the floors.
"Sorry, this is going to sound awful but please don't wear your shoes inside the house." I tried to sound nice, not too fond of the idea of a blade against my neck for disrespecting him, but this was my house dammit! Surprisingly enough, he nodded.
"I won't in future then."
Retrieving my apple, I put it in a bowl of water on the table for a second and shook it off, ridding it of the dirt it may have collected on the floor. I took another bite.
"So," I said, through my mouthful of apple, "is something wrong?"
"No, I just need to make my duties clear." He said, stance still stiff and tense, but it's not like I was going to attack him. Perhaps he was guarded like that. "I am to protect you until your husband returns, so I will need to know when you venture into town, where you buy your food, when you eat, when you sleep. If you are in danger of being attacked, it could come from anyone, anywhere. Clear?"
"I see…" I swallowed my piece of fruit. "Should I tell you before I go to town, then?"
He approved. I wondered… what sort of things I could say to him. This was… quite the odd relationship. Should I respect him like a man, like a friend, or not respect him at all? After all, he did molest me, even if I did want it in the end. Lord, decisions, decisions! I decided to test the water.
"You knew my husband was lying to your master…. Did you tell him?"
He paused for a moment, eyes catching with mine for a second, the familiar glimmer of honey brown making my knees wobble, until he looked away. "No."
"Why?" The question came out of my mouth before I could stop it.
"It wouldn't have been… prudent, considering the circumstances as to why I knew he was lying. It wouldn't have made any difference anyway. Mu'ayyad betrayed the Creed, that is all that matters."
I blushed fiercely and looked at the floor, my apple forgotten in my hand. "I'm… I'm so sorry."
And what I was apologising for, I just didn't know. Perhaps I was apologising for this whole mess, even if it was coincidental. Than again…
… Nothing is coincidence. But it wasn't fate, I wasn't ready to think like that just yet.
He said nothing, and it was obvious to both of us how tense the room suddenly got. I stiffened, half expecting him to turn around and hit me, but he stayed still, his head bowed, expression impossible to read as his eyes were covered by the white of his hood.
"What about food, water?" I asked, gesturing to him with my half eaten apple, trying to will the tension down. "Where will you sleep?"
Then I thought for a second, and held up a hand to silence him. "You are welcome to eat here if you like, after all, you are the one protecting me, it's the least I can do."
That heavy, intense stare caught mine again, eyes sliding easily over my features until fixing on the bruise on my cheek. He was standing at least five feet away, but it felt like there was barely any proximity between us at all. His lip quirked.
God, he looked incredibly handsome.
"You are kind. I will sleep on the roof between hours. If you need me, that's where I will be."
I smiled. That was a better answer than I thought I was going to get. Perhaps this will be alright after all. In much better spirits, I turned to fix the curtains at the window instead of fidgeting in an agitated fashion. If you need me…
That made me smile too. I was almost amused with the thought of him running to my beck and call, but of course I would never do such a thing. I was the woman, not him. My husband made full use of that fact.
"You can take the fruit on the table, if you're hungry." I said, fixing the curtain into the rope against the window frame, the light breeze ruffling my hair. "Altair…?"
But as I turned, he was gone, and an apple was missing.
The cheek!
But I smiled anyway.
Author's notes: Wanted to leave atleast ONE chapter with a somewhat happy end. Thanks for reading!