Tears filled the Greek woman's eyes. "I hope so, sweetheart. Zara is strong, but she has had … a lot of shocks in a very short
time. All we can do now is to help her the best we can." She tenderly ran her fingers through the child's hair as tears ran
unnoticed down her cheeks. "I believe that whether or not she recovers is truly in Allah's hands now."
Nadrah gazed into her face for a long moment, then spoke firmly. "Then Prasha and I will pray for her," she said and went off
toward Zara's cabin carrying the wriggling basket with her cat.
Gabrielle watched her go with tear blurred vision, then wiped her eyes and bowed her head as a breeze blew across the deck
and parted her short hair with it's passing like waves of summer wheat. "And so will I," she whispered.
~~~~~~
From the dock, the two men watched as Zara's ship cast off and the sails bellied out to catch the wind. Slowly the craft
moved off into the harbor and then plunged into the open sea. When the ship was away from the dock, Isa glanced up at
Abu, the unspoken thought remained on the tip of his tongue. Unable to contain his silence anymore, he cleared his throat.
"Abu, uh, forgive me for asking, but, what business have you that would cause you to risk your life?"
The bigger man only frowned as he turned away from Zara's ship. Absently, he scratched his chin. His brow was creased in
thought, then he glanced at the navigator.
"For one, I will see Azeem about the title belonging to a certain ship," was his gruff response.
"The captain's brother? Will he give such a title to her?" Isa arched a questioning eyebrow.
Abu nodded. "Azeem and I go back many years. Once, he was like a brother to me. I'm certain that with a bit of…
encouragement, he will sign over the deed of that ship to our captain."
Isa remained silent. His glance filled with a multitude of questions. Rather than voice them, he only turned away. The young
man looked up at the ship he would travel on and the grief of this voyage settled into his soul.
"May Allah find your meeting favorable, Abu," he sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Allah knows, our captain
deserves to retain ownership of her vessel."
"Yes, she does at that," was Abu's soft reply.
"You mentioned another matter?" Isa turned to him, his questioning eyes searched the bigger man for answers. With a shrug,
Abu cleared his throat.
"A… private matter, something that should have been taken care of years ago," the big man half whispered as he took a quick
look around at his former guards, then looked back down at Isa. The expression in his eyes did not betray his thoughts.
Seeing the bigger man like this, the young navigator only nodded.
"Then I shall pray for Allah's blessing for you on this as well," Isa said as he reached out to clasp the burly man's hand.
Nodding, Abu took his hand and squeezed it tightly. When their gaze met and he saw the intensity of the bearded man's eyes,
Isa felt a cold chill run through him. Although he did not know what the second matter was, the navigator decided that at
times, ignorance was preferable to knowledge.
Abu stayed on the docks until both ships had gone to sea on the early morning tide. Once assured that his friends were out of
harms way, he made his way to the city mosque. He spent the entire day fasting, in prayer and meditations. Although he did
not consider himself a religious man, he knew that Allah existed. As sure as he was of his God, he knew that for some men,
their hearts were turned away from the beneficence of Allah's presence. Understanding this made it easier for him to
comprehend when bad things happened to good people. It did not excuse the evil in his mind; it only made it easier to
understand why such things happened.
When the sun set in the distance, he rose from his devotions and gathered his prayer rug. As the men around him spoke softly,
he answered them easily, his smile never wavering. Filled with a sense of peace, he returned to the house of his dear friend
and left his items by his packed bags, then left the house in silence.
Yes, in all of his journeys he had met many different people. Some were so kind as to cause one's heart to warm by the sheer
closeness of their presence. Yet others were filled with such hate that he could not deny that the hand of Satan was upon them.
As he reflected upon his meditations, he began upon the task that he knew should have been undertaken years ago. He
moved with stealth through the dark shadows of the estate and made his way through a closed window into the home.
Although many would doubt that he could move in this way because of his bulk and the minor inconvenience of his shoulder
wound, his years as a mercenary had taught him well. When he reached the part of the house that he intended to enter, he hid
in the shadows and waited with great patience and calm. Part of the time he continued to spend in prayer and meditation,
while the rest was spent in thoughts of the past.
Yes, Zara was more than just his captain and friend, she was like kin to him. He could not have explained it to anyone, but he
had known since the day that he lifted her up from the darkness of her imprisonment when she was barely a child, that she
would always hold a part of his heart. No, it was not a romantic affection he held for her, but rather the affections of a brother
for a sister. And perhaps part of his feelings stemmed from the knowledge that her own brothers seemed to hold her with little
regard. Not even her father cared for her, and this, more than anything, was enough to disturb the burly man.
At the noise of the door opening and a glint of a hand held lamp, Abu faded further back into the shadows in absolute silence.
He watched as the man moved through his bedroom, preparing himself for sleep. It was an older man and he seemed to have
some trouble breathing. As he went about the room, he would suck air through his nose with a whistle and exhale noisily out
through his mouth. As the light showed his face, it became evident that his nose had been broken recently. Even in the
shadows, Abu could see that it was bruised, red and swollen to twice its normal size. Unaware of the mercenary's presence,
the old man donned his nightshirt, then crawled wheezing under his ornate blanket. He leaned toward the lamp and blew it
out, then settled back in the bed with a sigh, his breath still snuffling through his nose and open mouth. Once the light was gone
and the prey had relaxed, the hunter made his way through the darkness.
By the light of the full moon coming through the open windows, Abu moved and stood directly over the bed. With eyes
already adjusted to the night, he gazed at the bearded man breathing raggedly in the bed for one last time. Suddenly, sensing
that implacable gaze upon him, the old man's eyes shot open. He clearly saw the shadow hulking above him, but before he
could open his mouth to scream, Abu placed his massive hands over the man's face. Like a vice, his left hand kept the man's
mouth closed while his right closed off the air into his nostrils.
"I only do what should have been done years ago," Abu whispered as the man struggled in his grip and made a faint squealing
noise inside his head as he tried to scream but could not.
"May Allah find me worthy for banishing the world of one more devil," the mate said like a prayer as he stifled the man's
breathing. His wounded shoulder twinged at the pressure he was bringing to bear but he ignored it. Even an arrow through his
brain would not have stopped him from carrying out this justice so long denied. Even after the old man stopped flailing, Abu
closed his eyes and began to recite some verses from the holy words. When more than enough time had passed, he released
his grasp and the empty corpse sprawled onto the bed, the trapped breath rattling out of his inert lungs with a reedy sound.
As he turned away from the dead man, a deep sigh escaped Abu.
"Yes, this I have done for my friend, my sister in all but name. You were never worthy to have a daughter such as her," he
told the dead corpse that lay upon the disheveled pillow. The lifeless, vacant eyes stared up as if the man had seen the image
of God himself and had been struck down for his evilness. "Now, may Allah have mercy upon your soul," Abu whispered,
"because I never will."
With a final nod, the mercenary turned sailor made his way from the darkness of the room. Once on the balcony of the dead
man's private room, the big man inhaled deeply. He was not certain if it was his imagination or if it was real, but the air around
him seemed suddenly filled with the scent of jasmine and myrrh and an overwhelming peace seemed to settle in his soul. With
a slight smile, he massaged his tingling shoulder before making his way out of the home undetected.
