Many thanks to my muses, Pookwana and K.T. the opinionated. Special thanks to Duchess67 for betaing this.
Shadow sat up rubbing his eyes. "Haththan?" he called nervously fingering the blankets covering him.
"Awake at last, Shadow?" Saladin moved over to the nest.
"Thir? I'th where?" A bewildered, almost frightened look was on the boy's face.
"My quarters, do you remember coming to see me last night?" The sultan spoke soothingly.
Shadow unconsciously chewed on his lip for a moment, in deep thought. "'Ladin?"
"Yes, I am Saladin," the sultan answered in a kind tone, glaring at the widely grinning Hakim. The sultan stroked the long curls, fascinated with the varied shades of blond, red, brown and a few hairs of pure silver, found in the silken tresses.
"I 'member bad dreamth, you made 'em go 'way," the boy answered, obviously relaxing at the soothing touch.
"Are you hungry, boy?" the sultan asked.
"Yeth, Thir," Shadow's answer was emphasized by the growling of his stomach.
"Mele," Saladin called.
The old man stepped into the room.
"Awake is he? I'll bring something for that empty belly of his, then," Mele muttered and left the room.
"Mele?" the boy asked hesitantly.
"He takes care of me," Saladin muttered. "And now he will help take care of you."
Shadow's expressive face showed trepidation.
"It is alright, boy." Hakim rose and walked over. "He growls much, but would never harm you."
Shadow flinched, then calmed quickly once he had identified the strange voice. "Hakim, 'Ladin'th Capt'n."
"That's right, little one. I'm Hakim," the big warrior squatted down beside the now kneeling boy.
Saladin and Hakim exchanged puzzled looks, as Shadow leaned forward slightly and snuffled the other man.
"His eyes don't work. He's identifying you by scent," Mele informed them as he placed a bowl on the table. "Have either of you fools taken him to empty his bladder? Little boys can only wait so long you know." Mele huffed, noting the boy's anxious shifting.
"Up you come," Hakim hurriedly helped Shadow to his feet and escorted him into the other room.
"I should have realized," Saladin sighed.
"You'll learn. You do not spend enough time with your children." Mele chastised the younger man.
"Yes. I should know my own children," Saladin agreed softly. By the prophet, I need more hours in the day. So easy to allow the harem to raise them. Has it been so long that I have forgotten the sting of my own father's neglect?
"I big boy, can go by mythelf," Shadow's voice rose in protest from the other room.
"Hakim?" Saladin asked as the sheepish Captain of the Guard walked back in.
"I forgot what a big boy Shadow is and tried to help him," Hakim shrugged in embarrassment.
"Oh," the other men chuckled at the big Captain's sheepish look.
"I forgot how independent they get at this age," Hakim growled. By the prophet's beard! I truly forgot he's not a child. The big captain thought in disbelief.
The infidel slave reentered the room. Pausing at the door, Shadow cocked his head and clapped his hands once, he seemed to listen intently for a moment. His nostrils flared as he appeared to sniff the room. Once satisfied he boldly strode across the room to the waiting breakfast.
"He tests his surroundings, good! No shuffling about for our boy." Hakim said proudly.
"Nothing must be moved from its place," Mele said thoughtfully.
"Yes, here at least he will be able to move freely," Saladin agreed.
"Did you wash your hands?" Mele asked sharply as the boy sat down and reached for the bowl.
"Yeth, Thir," Shadow's hands jerked back from the bowl and were held out for inspection.
"Very good," Mele's voice held a smile as he inspected the boy's hands. "Go ahead and eat, child," Mele ordered.
Shadow grasped his bowl and proceeded to shovel in the sweetened gruel using the fingers of his left hand.
"What do you think you're doing?" Mele thundered.
The bowl fell from Shadow's hands at the raised voice, as he dropped down and curled up, head to the floor. His hands protectively covered his head as if awaiting a blow.
"Mele, you should not have yelled at him," Saladin's voice was carefully controlled. "I told you Hassan has taught him no manners whatsoever. Shadow must be taught that the left hand is unclean and must never be used for eating."
"Shadow, Mele didn't mean to scare you, little one," Hakim crooned. He approached the boy slowly. "He didn't mean to yell," Hakim soothed as he knelt down and gently stroked the bowman's tense back.
"Want Haththan, pleathe thir," Shadow whispered. "Hurtth."
"What hurts?" Saladin asked as he moved over to the boy and gently began working loose the fingers now locked in the long curls.
Hakim growled and grabbed the bowl of cereal sliding it into place just as the boy began to heave.
"How'd you know he was going to do that?" Saladin asked in dismay.
"The way the muscles in his back were working. I've cleaned up after enough of my own to recognize the signs," Hakim gagged, but never stopped gently rubbing circles on the bowman's back. "This isn't right," Hakim muttered as the muscles tensed and began to quiver.
The hovering Mele, wordlessly placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Lay him down on his side. Send a guard to find Hassan, NOW!" the old man ordered sharply.
The two men immediately moved the boy away from the table and laid him on his side. Hakim frowned, but went to the door and sent a guard after Hassan.
Mele was hurriedly moving objects away from the too still form.
"Mele?" Saladin asked softly.
"Sometimes Tuka would quiver, before a . . . seizure," Mele's voice caught.
First, the trembling appeared in the slave's hands, in moments his whole body jerked violently.
"Don't let him roll to his back, he could strangle," Mele's voice was calm as he quickly left the room.
The seizure lasted only a few moments, but to the men helplessly watching, it seemed a lifetime.
"Let me clean him up," Mele appeared with a basin of warm water and a soft towel.
Saladin moved back, letting the old man take his place.
"I am sorry I frightened you, child," Mele murmured softly as he washed the boy's face. The sapphire eyes seemed to wander in an attempt to locate the voice. "I need to teach you how to eat properly. What was that old fool Hassan thinking? Letting you eat with your left hand, you'll get sick.." Mele crooned as he settled the youngster.
"Tadig? Shadow questioned faintly. The voice was not that of the child.
"I am Mele," the old man answered.
"Leland?" the bowman's voice rose in distress.
"Easy boy, you're alright now," Hassan rushed in and dropped to his knees by his patient.
"Gilgald," Shadow sighed and attempted to wrap his uncooperative fingers around the old healer's wrist.
"I'm here," Hassan crooned.
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"He will sleep now." Hassan straightened with a groan.
"I never intended to cause him harm," Mele said miserably.
"Your reprimand most likely had nothing to do with the seizure," Hassan comforted his old friend.
"What did?" Saladin demanded.
"Anything, everything, or nothing at all," Hassan grunted. "They happen."
"He seemed different after," Hakim noted.
"Sometimes he has . . . matured somewhat after a seizure," Hassan explained. "Not always, though."
"The words he called?" Saladin asked.
"Names I think," Hassan grunted. "He never remembers. I seem to be Gilgald, though."
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Mele, sat working on his household accounts, while he kept watch over the sleeping slave. Saladin and Hakim grieve for the loss of the man. Have they no eyes to see? A man's responsibilities mayhap, he's only a boy just the same. I would number his years less than 16. Taller he'll grow yet. Mele mused to himself.
He paused when the troubled sleeper mumbled. No pampered child from the harem, this boy. I must move gently with him. So much pain in the making of those scars. So now, I must work at getting into his good graces. He's going to be untrusting after such a poor beginning. Mele frowned thoughtfully.
The sleeping boy began to toss restlessly. Hesitantly, Mele rose and moved to the pallet, looking down. Uncertain how the boy would respond to his touch, he held back. Soft, frightened whimpers were being muffled by a knotted fist.
"Easy, Shadow. You're safe, child." Mele knelt and crooned. The still sleeping boy froze, almost seeming to stop breathing in fear. "Wake little one, it is only a bad dream," Mele urged gently. Wide sapphire blue eyes popped open. "There now, just a bad dream. You're in the Sultan Saladin's chambers. I am Mele," the old man calmly waited, letting the boy process the information.
"Mele? I thorry Thir, do I know you?" the slave asked timidly.
"No, you went to sleep just after we meet," Mele explained calmly.
"I gotted thick again?" Shadow asked faintly.
"Yes," Mele gently touched a clinched fist. "Relax, no one will hurt you."
"Haththan?" the boy asked nervously.
"He's taking care of sick people. He asked me to watch over you," Mele explained.
"'Ladin? Hakim?" the boy asked nervously.
"Had to go to a council meeting. They did not wish to leave until you woke. They will be back soon," Mele answered. "I used to take care of Saladin when he was your age," Mele brushed back the unruly curls.
"You're 'Ladin'th Abba?" Shadow asked shyly, his long fingers twisted into the blanket nervously.
"No, I am not his father. I took care of him as a boy," Mele sighed. In my heart, he is my son. Mele admitted to himself. It is I who raised him and the others when their own father couldn't be bothered with younger sons.
"You thmell thad," Shadow said in a troubled tone.
"Sadness has an odor?" Mele blinked in surprise.
"Uh huh, I thorry I made you thad." The boy's chin quivered.
"You did not make me sad," Mele quickly corrected the boy. "Old sorrows those, it is nothing you did."
"Not Ab, Abba you're 'Ladin'th daddy, jutht athk him," Shadow said softly.
The boy turned his head, snuffling the old man's hand.
Blind? Not hardly, you see hearts don't you boy? Mele's lips quirked at the insight.
"So now, I will take care of you as well, child," Mele huffed.
"I try and be good," Shadow said honestly, chewing on his lip. "'Haththan, thaid I wath thent to drive him crazy, and I wath very good at it."
"Trouble likes little boys. If you try very hard to be good, I'll try not to yell when things do happen, hmm?" Mele offered.
You old fool, already he tugs at your heartstrings. Mele sighed ruefully when the boy sat up and wrapped his arms around the old man in a warm hug. Making certain there was no one to see his weakness, Mele wrapped gentle arms around the thin boy. A contented sigh, and the boy squirmed closer. It's going to be hard to discipline the little devil, Mele admitted to himself, then laid his cheek to rest against the boy's silky curls. I wonder if you like honey cakes?
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Saladin and Hakim exchanged looks and hurried from the council chamber leaving the old men behind..
"I'm sure Mele took good care of your Shadow," Hakim said.
"Of course he would. That's not the problem. I left the boy with a stranger who frightened him," Saladin growled.
"There was no choice 'Ladin," Hakim reminded.
"I know," the sultan sighed and picked up speed.
"What, we're racing now?" Hakim chuckled and trotted after his childhood friend much to the servants' amazement.
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"Mele? Shadow?" Saladin called, entering his private apartment.
The silent rooms stood empty. Saladin turned to Hakim with a worried frown.
"I'm sure everything is fine. Did Mele leave a note?" Hakim asked.
"Yes." The sultan pounced. Picking up the piece of scroll he began to read. "The old fool has lost his mind," he spluttered.
"What?" Hakim demanded.
"They've gone fishing," Saladin said in disbelief. "Mele has left his accounts unfinished and gone fishing. He never leaves a duty unfinished."
"Mele fishes?" Hakim asked in amusement. "I didn't know that."
"Whatever possessed him?" The sultan asked in bewilderment.
"A pair of big blue eyes," Hakim huffed. "As much time as Shadow has spent in the garden, I'm thinking he doesn't like being indoors much. 'Ladin, where can you fish around here?"
"You'd think that he'd be immune after dealing with your big blue eyes for so many years. There is no place within twenty miles to fish," Saladin scowled.
"He wouldn't!" Hakim barked and rushed from the room.
Have they all gone crazy? Mele is truant. The servants are pretending not to see. It is time to nap the heat of the day away and Hakim is running through the palace like a child. What is worse is I am running after him. I am the SULTAN, running through the halls lacks dignity. What would my father say? Saladin's thoughts raced to match his feet as he followed Hakim.
Saladin slowed and winced, watching as Hakim lost traction trying to make a turn into the hall that led to the kitchens. He came to a halt as the big man slid across the floor and slammed into the wall.
"After twenty-five years, I would think you could remember to slow down for that turn," Saladin walked over to grin down at his brother.
"Shut up, kid," Hakim huffed, then groaned, sitting up.
"Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm not hurt. Armor is good for something after all," Hakim grunted ruefully.
"It has been a very long time since we ran in the halls," Saladin smirked. When we were fleeing Mele's switch or stealing honey cakes from the kitchens.
"Father would be furious," Hakim muttered.
How many times did you shield me from father's anger? Just another of his harem slave's whelps, yet you always were my protector, even against the heir himself did you defend me. He was a fool our father. He should have valued you as much as do I. All his plans were for naught. It is the weak son and the half-breed who rule his kingdom now.
Hakim's startled blue eyes widened, looking up into the sultan's face. "Did you just raspberry FATHER? 'Ladin?"
"I did. And, Hakim . . . I enjoyed it," Saladin grinned unrepentantly at his half Tuareg brother. "I am Sultan. If I want to run in my halls I will. So tell me, why are we running?"
"A very expensive, very irritating pool of stupid golden fish," Hakim snarled, climbing to his feet.
"Mele wouldn't? Lei's goldfish?" Saladin's eyes widened in true fear.
Hakim's tiny wife, Lei was a source of anxiety at anytime. Once he had found a woman to his liking the big rogue had taken to marriage without a backwards glance. The properly raised Arabic girls being far too submissive for the son of a Tuareg woman. She had laid Hakim unconscious for several hours after he made a demeaning comment at their first meeting. The entire palace had watched in amusement when the heartstruck Hakim had wooed the vivacious daughter of the visiting Chinese ambassador. Despite all offers, there was but one woman in the house of Hakim.
"She'll kill them both," Saladin winced.
"And the pair of us for letting it happen," Hakim muttered.
A suppressed snigger was heard.
The sheepish men turned to see Omar, Ari, and Saddam, members of Saladin's personal guard, grinning widely.
"I take it you saw the whole thing?" Hakim flushed.
"Yes." The men grinned.
"She doesn't scare me," Hakim huffed.
"Much," Saladin sniggered.
"Just remember little brother, Mele and Shadow are your slaves," Hakim reminded.
Saladin paled markedly. A sudden flurry of movement and the guards scattered to parts unknown. Lest they be ordered to act as escort to the sultan.
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"Maybe it's alright," Saladin breathed in relief as the two men crept into Hakim's garden.
"What makes you think that?" the big captain demanded in a hoarse whisper, looking around nervously.
"It's quiet," the sultan answered just as softly.
"'Ladin where are we?" Hakim asked kindly.
"Your garden . . . camel shit! It's quiet, Hakim. She's sent the children away," Saladin's eyes widened. "I'm dog meat."
"Afraid so, little brother," Hakim agreed softly.
The two men slunk along a meandering path headed for their possible executions. Coming to a break in the bushes, they peered through the branches. Mele was sitting under a sunshade talking calmly with Lei.
"Come here now, both of you," Lei ordered.
"I'll replace the fish," Saladin promised, ducking his head and watching the fascinating toes of his slippers.
"You're not in trouble," Lei chuckled.
"You caught them in time?" the sultan croaked.
"Caught them? Who did I need to catch? Mele brought Shadow to play with the children," Lei frowned.
"They didn't bother your golden fish?" Hakim breathed in relief.
"My fish? Of course not." Lei looked at the two men blankly.
"Mele left a note that they had gone fishing," Saladin explained.
"So they did," Lei smiled warmly and laughed at the now fidgeting Mele.
Hakim and Saladin stared in disbelief. Mele was a mess. His clothing and slippers had traces of mud. His hands and mouth seemed to be stained with berry juice. The old man's eyes darted wildly as if seeking a place to hide.
"Mele? What has come over you?" the sultan demanded.
"I . . . Shadow was . . . and well . . . I . . ." Mele flushed. "We ran away from home. Only for the afternoon," Mele admitted. "I will not do so again, my sultan," the old man promised.
"Did you have fun, old father?" Hakim asked with dancing eyes.
"Yes, I did," Mele admitted and smiled widely.
"Than do so again tomorrow if you wish." Saladin sat down on a cushion. When was the last time you played, old father? Is this why Allah sent Shadow to us?
"He's beautiful," Lei's eyes lingered on the 'child'.
Hakim shook his head, taking in the situation. Shadow was dressed only in his small clothes playing by himself in a pool of muddy water. The strangely bare area of Lei's extensive garden was jarring.
"Where are his clothes?" Saladin asked tightly.
"That pile of mud to his right," Lei sniggered.
"I will send a gardener to repair the damage," Saladin scowled.
"What damage?" Lei and Hakim asked in bewilderment.
"That mess," Saladin waved towards the muddy pool.
"'Ladin that's how it always looks," Hakim laughed.
"I don't understand," Saladin said faintly.
"Children and mud go together," Lei patted the discomfitted sultan's arm. "If I give the children a place to play, they leave the rest of the garden alone."
"They play in the mud?" Saladin looked confused.
"Sometimes they let it dry and than they play in the desert." Hakim shrugged.
"Today it is a pond with fish," Lei smiled watching as a delighted Shadow pulled a stone 'fish' from the water.
"He's filthy," Saladin muttered.
"And happy," Lei reminded.
"Yes, he is." The sultan studied the muddy boy. "I think he better have a bath -a very good bath- before Hassan see's him."
"Hassan knows the benefits of sunshine and happiness," Mele answered calmly.
"And the damage dirt can do to healing wounds," Saladin reminded sharply.
"The scabs are gone. All the places are sealed with healthy new skin," Mele reminded.
"Do I scrape the mud off first or what? He can't go into the tub like that." Saladin asked.
"We use buckets of water outside before we throw them into the tub," Hakim suggested.
"How are we ever going to get the mud out of that mane?" Saladin grunted in dismay.
"Dunk his head in a bucket a few times than pour some clean water through it," Lei suggested.
"That will work?" 'Ladin asked. "Are you sure?"
"It works on our girls, it should work on Shadow as well," Hakim promised.
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"Good thing you caught him before he went into his plate or we'd have to wash all that hair again," Mele yawned widely.
"He fell asleep in mid-bite," Saladin chuckled, holding out the boy's hands for Mele to wash. Tilting his head back to rest on his own shoulder, the sultan aided the old servant to wash the boy's face as well. Mele aided his master in rising with the boy in his arms. Together they got him settled onto his pallet.
"I still have to talk with Neti about Shadow," Saladin reminded himself.
"She's in the harem with the children," Mele glanced out the window at the setting sun. "No time like the present."
"Is it the blue of their eyes or does Shadow truly look like Hakim?" the sultan asked softly.
"The jaw line and cheekbones are much the same. The coloring of course is different," Mele agreed. "Allah favored them both with great beauty."
Author's note:
Among Muslims, the left hand is reserved for bodily hygiene and considered unclean. Thus, the right hand should be used for eating. Shaking hands or handing over an item with one's left hand is an insult.
ab- arabic for father
abba-arabic for father more affectionate form i.e. Daddy or Poppa
The Tuareg are sometimes called the "Blue People" because in the 12th century they had not learned how to properly set the indigo dye in the cloth of their traditional robes and turbans and it stained the wearer's skin dark blue The Tuareg are matrilineal, though not matriarchal. Unlike many Muslim societies, women do not traditionally wear the veil, whereas men do. The most famous Tuareg symbol is the Tagelmust , an often blue indigo colored veil. Men begin wearing a veil when they reach maturity which usually conceals their entire face excluding their eyes and the top of the nose. Their general color is the reddish yellow of southern Europeans, the uncovered parts of the body being, however, darker through exposure. Their hair is long, black, and silky, beards black and thin; eyes black, sometimes blue; noses small; hands delicate, but bodies muscular. They are a tall people, the chiefs being especially noted for their powerful build.