CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

THE SALTED WIND SEEMED TO pinch and bite at Mazeeda’s cheeks as they got closer to the harbor. It was different from sanded wind; which would scratch and then caress underneath the heat of the sun. Salt was relentless, constantly going at her face under the clouded sky.

While the desert was humid with heat and sand, the sea air was filled with salt and algae. The Calipha could open her mouth and just taste it, making her mouth dry like sand.

The sea and the desert are no different to themselves, she thought, rather, they could be distant cousins where one was abandoned and the other over nourished.

The only difference was that the harbor was filled with loud cacophonies, hurried people, and massive ships and cargo. In the desert, it was preferred silence over noise. Because noise meant death. There was no need for people to hurry, the endless stretch of sand seemed to make time disappear. Caravans were rare to come by since there was no need to move anywhere when sand is all you’ve known.

Mazeeda didn’t know if she liked or hated such a foreign place, she was leaning towards ‘curious.’

Sinbad was silently watching the queen take in the environment, his environment. Sure, she was accustomed to Khai’s environment, but he wanted Mazeeda to experience something entirely different than the constant visual of night and death. He took note of how her eyes were taking everything in, not really sure where to look nor if she should stop.

“Come,” the voyager softly said into the wind, his voice getting carried away. “Perhaps on another day I’ll show you around the entire harbor. Today we are short on time and I only intended to check up on my ship.”

Mazeeda nodded, suddenly captivated by Sinbad. She had never seen him in his element, rather, she had seen him seamlessly fit into the environments of Zaabit, Khai, and Amon’s. She wondered if the three of them were comfortable in Sinbad’s just like he was with them. He was so versatile, adapting quickly to a given scenario.

She nodded, falling back into stride with him. “Alright. I’ll hold you to what you said.”

“Of course.” He watched her short hair move with the sea breeze; Sinbad realized that it was beginning to grow out. He wondered if she would grow it back to its original length or keep it short. If she did decide to grow it out, the voyager knew that he would envy it. Gods, he would even pay her anything to have it if she was willing. “Now tell me, do you get sea sick easily?”

“I do not know,” she thought quizzically. “I suppose I do since I’ve never been off land.”

Zaabit’s brother barked out a laugh, his hands on his head and never losing stride. “That’s an old superstition that people die believing in.”

“And you do not believe it?”

“Of course not.” He huffed, his chest puffing out. “Though I can’t hold it true to everyone. Some of my crew men still get sick to the stomach, some who are more experienced than me.”

Mazeeda palmed her hair, trying to settle it down against the growing wind. “And they allow you to lead them when they are your senior? How do they know if you aren’t pulling their leg?”

Sinbad leaped forward onto the wooden gangway. “It’s trust.” He put out a hand for the Malika, any calluses that were there before filed away to perfection. “Here, take your husband for example. He’s so young, only twenty-one. His inner circle, his ambassadors, the servants, and his people are usually older than him. Granted, he is the king; though he hasn’t been for long, pulling on his third year in the upcoming months. Anyone and everyone could have assassinated him, killed him -though some have come close, as you should now- and yet he still has the throne in his grasp. Why is that? Because the people of Yaheisea have a foundation of trust, every call he makes, every direction he steers his country towards, they firmly believe that his choices have the best intentions for this country and his people and now his wife. That or the counsel is just filled with rotting snakes, ready to fill Khai with their poison. Politics is a double edged sword, and so far, the Caliph has been careful not to be impaled by the wrong side.”

Mazeeda gazed up at the Caliph’s friend, finding only sincerity and honesty in it rather than the typical trickery and playful look. She placed her hand on top of his, brown on brown, before jumping over the slight gap.

“Now, let’s talk.”

SINBAD WAS TAKEN ABACK, BUT then again, what did he expect from a lioness of a queen? “You seem to be faring well.”

Some of the crewmen stepped aside for their captain and queen.

“Well, we aren’t really moving anywhere.” Mazeeda gestured to the entire ship, which was still anchored to the port. “So I suppose I cannot get seasick without being in motion.”

The voyager clicked his tongue, opening a door to the inner deck. “Ah, but some people are more susceptible than others. Perhaps you are different, given that you’ve defied death.”

“I doubt it. Give me one name and I’ll believe it. Surely no one can simply get sick if nothing is moving.”

He barked out a laugh while he turned some lights on. “Malika, you make me laugh. Why do you suppose Khai prefers hunting on land than going out to sea? I have never seen a man so sick to his stomach before.”

The storyteller’s lips quirked up. “Judging from your tone of voice, you never let him live it down.”

“There’s no fun if I do, yes?” Picking a small lamp up, Sinbad made his rounds through the inner deck, looking for the repairs he ordered. His face was lit a dark orange and showed his eyebrows straight and his lips thin in concentration. He was mumbling to himself, taking note of the things that were done well and things that needed to be redone.

Mazeeda simply stood watch patiently. She knew nothing of what Sinbad was doing, by the gods, she didn’t even know what Zaabit, Amon, or even Khai did, the only thing she knew what to do was to save her own life. How selfish of me, she thought.

Sinbad looked at the storyteller from the corner of his eyes, her figure soft around the edges, almost like the edges of the sun rising from the horizon, before resuming his inspection. “I do not know what words you want me to pick and choose from, but I am willing to speak about my irrational behavior that day in Khai’s bedroom.”

The Malik straightened her posture.

He breathed deeply but silently. “I knew what I had to do that day, everything was planned out to even the smallest detail, gods, everyone knew what to do that day except you. Khai was insistent on that part specifically. To be brutally honest, I didn’t care at all, I had barely known who you were. At that time, I had only known you through paper sent by messenger hawks, and from the descriptions every inner circle member had written out, I had high expectations of you. I had questioned, ‘What could a young woman do to waver the king’s crooked dagger?’ And then I had to know, I had to know who you were, how you looked, the way you carried yourself. So when I saw you in the flesh, with not a trace of any wounds inflicted on Khai, I was taken aback. You were beautiful and fierce and strong willed and it just seemed too good to be true. There was no way the Caliph could finally meet his match so quickly.”

Mazeeda couldn’t dare ask. She did. “How quickly?”

He stared at her dead on, eyes stern. “A thousand girls in over a span of almost two years. It seems impossible, but Khai made it happen. I do now know how and I don’t ever wish to know. Only my brother has seen it all.”

It was only then that she began to understand Zaabit. Why he always seemed so far away and out of touch. Why he seemed to be the only one to control Khai in his bursts of bloodlust. He had seen it all, the horror on the families' faces, the fear from the bride herself, and to an extent, their execution. There was a growing distance between him and everyone else, and Mazeeda wondered if she could ever find a way to close it, to reach him.

“When you’ve seen your best friend kill countless girls that have families and a life already established, you begin to stop praying for hope and start begging for a miracle. And that was what you were to some people, what you were to me. But I was instantly blindsided by betrayal and guilt; betrayal from finding out that your brother -who I even met- was going to kill my friend and guilt for trusting you so fast.”

“Nobody can control who they can and cannot trust, it’s something from within. My mother believes it’s something too deep to find and that’s why it hurts when there is betrayal, because then you finally locate where that trust is, and you can’t do anything but dig it up or bury it away.” She took a calculative step, stopped, and then slowly brought her hand up but slowly dropped it down.

“I was only supposed to lead you the way into confessing about any information. But I couldn’t do it, how could I when I was hurting and angry and you were just sitting there calm and collected? Before I knew it, I was berating you in every way a compass could turn, I wanted you to feel what I felt. I wanted you to lash out at me so then the both of us would have bad blood. It was better knowing that you had something to hold against me just like I did. After I left, there was a heaviness in me. Somehow I knew I needed to clear my name and explain myself to you, but I was too… no I was a coward. I knew you were looking for me when it was supposed to be the other way around; I was supposed to be a man and apologize to you, my queen, my friend’s wife, the future of Yaheisea. By my smallgods, you could have killed me and I would not resist such a fate.”

“At that moment,” Mazeeda contemplated, “I wanted to; I wanted to punish you because you did indeed hurt me, you struck me where it hurt most. To use my family against me was cruel and I don’t think I can forgive you for that. The things my brother did to Khai and towards the kingdom may be unreasonable and wrong, but he is still blood and I still love him. Perhaps you wouldn’t understand, not unless I point a finger at your family as well.”

“You wouldn’t and you couldn’t. I only have Zaabit left, the war took everyone else away from us.” He concentrated on the ground, suddenly finding it interesting. “I would be fine if I were taken next if it were to happen, but not him, not my younger brother.”

The Calipha wondered if she would do the same, if she was willing to take the place of her three younger brothers, and now, would she also take Khai’s? She had been so caught up in her own life, but would she give it all up in an instant if the occasion were to arrive? Mazeeda did not know, it was like the sun telling her to choose between a mirage of water and the actual.

“I cannot forgive you,” she repeated, “but I do understand. My mother believes that storytellers of any kind are, at the end of the day, similar because we are so far and few between; almost like the distance between each water well. Even if we have our differences, a bond between storytellers transcends generations and carries on to our next lives.”

The voyager finally looked up. His eyes were soft, loose strands of hair falling over his face, making him handsome. In this lighting, he was no captain nor a close advisor to the king, but rather a young man who was overshadowed by sadness and restlessness, where the last of his hope was flickering back to life.

NYLAH SIGHED AS SHE HANDED the coins off to her sister, silently cursing her. She was so sure to win against Adelah, but her bad luck was proved right once again.

Adelah was grinning like a cat, vicious and proud. She laid out the forty-five coins on the table, admiring them.

The doors right across from where Adelah sat banged open, where Khai, Amon, and Zaabit barged into the lounge. All of them with deep wrinkles on their forehead, their eyes fueled with vengeance as they made their way to the made who sat like still water.

Each of them dropped their bundles of money they had bet against Adelah.

Amon slumped into the chair next to her, tapping his finger. “I was so sure this wouldn’t happen.”

Khai leaned against the table itself, running his hands through his hair. “It wasn’t supposed to, it was an accident.”

Zaabit paced the room, his steps silent. “Oh please, it’s both your faults. I had deliberately told you that she would run into him sooner or later.”

The king scowled at his uncle. “In the beginning I was certain that Mazeeda would end up finding Sinbad. She’s too stubborn not to scout him down. I can’t believe you fooled me!” He pointed a strong finger at Amon.

He only rolled his eyes.

The swordsman stopped his pacing and put his hands on his hips, squaring his broad shoulders. “You were the one to fall for it. I’ve known Sinbad just as long as you have and we all know how he likes to run away from his problems. I may know my brother well, but never doubt the queen.”

The Malik dropped his head back, closing his eyes. “Why are you getting upset, Zaabit? You didn’t even lose anything against Adelah, not even a single coin. You refused to join in the first place!”

“That’s because-”

“Well isn’t this exciting,” Adelah purred out, covering her face as she laughed proudly. “Such a turn of events, is it not? It’s quite alright, I’m sure this small amount of money means nothing to you both anyways.”

“We bet ten times the amount than Nylah!” The king and his uncle complained together.

The maid smiled like a mad man, clicking her tongue. “I have been of service to the queen the very moment she arrived, so it’s inevitable to not pick up a thing or two about who she is as a person.” She looked up to the Caliph. “I was surprised when you sided with Sinbad rather than your wife, have you forgotten what she is capable of?”

He only stayed silent. For a beat. Then two. “Quite the contrary.”

|AUTHOR'S NOTE|

somehow i'm not... satisfied with this chapter???