Chapter XI
In the morning, before it was fully light the others wakened me, showed me where to wash, pointed out the qiblah and we all lined up behind Hamed to pray.
"There is no muezzin in al-Quds," Hamed told me. "Plenty of Nasrani bells, may Allah grant us relief, but no call to prayer."
After the prayers were finished Hamed took up his pen again amid the teasing of the others. Babrak and Hilmi busied themselves with their weapons and Babrak offered to show me how to care for mine, but when I drew out the curved sword taken from the Bani Jibrin he pronounced it perfect and in need of nothing.
"Go and explore," he ordered. "Keep within the gates, but see if you can find out where the kitchen is and the storerooms and so on."
"He'll have no trouble finding the kitchen," Hilmi laughed. "If he is as hungry as I am his nose will lead him straight to it."
"We break our fast after the church bells, may Allah curse them, have rung for the second time," Babrak told me.
I opened the door and went out onto the step. It was a beautiful clear morning; the newly risen sun was gilding the rooftops around me and the air was still fresh and damp, without the dry heat that would come later in the day. There was a narrow passage on the left that ran under an archway, through which I could see the greenness of a grapevine and hear doves cooing. I dropped lightly down off the step and walked under the arch.
The passageway opened into a small courtyard surrounded by arched doorways and roofed with a tangle of vine leaves though which the light shone greenly. In the centre of the yard was an ornamental pillar from which a jet of silvery water cascaded into a shallow pool. Its merry gurgle masked the sound of my footsteps as I approached; it also masked the sound of the girl who was sitting in a patch of sunlight on the other side of the pillar, singing to herself, her bare feet stretched out lazily in front of her, so that we were both ignorant of the other's presence until we were within a couple of paces of each other.
Actually I saw her before she saw me and should really have retreated immediately. In fact, fearing that I had trespassed upon the harem, the women's quarters, I took a step backwards but then I halted, staring like a peasant at a sultan. The girl, whose head was uncovered, had bright red, curly hair, of a brightness that henna could never match, not even in those so old that their hair would, otherwise, be white. It cascaded down over her shoulders, contrasting vividly with the dark brown of her gown. A pigeon sat on her outstretched finger while several others pecked at the grain on the ground by her bare feet.
The pigeon fluttered up from her hand and, in following its flight, she turned her head and looked towards me. Whatever noise I may have made had been hidden by the sound of the falling water and the girl leaped to her feet in fright, a look of alarm and anger on her face. Her wide open eyes were green, something I had never seen before or even imagined possible.
"Mashallah!" I exclaimed, calling on the name of God to protect me from the evil eye. Involuntarily I stepped back, stumbled on a stone and fell down backwards, landing on my bottom with such a jolt that I bit my tongue, which brought the tears to my eyes. No doubt I yelled as well, as I went over, and the pigeons scattered with a wild beating of wings. Almost as swiftly the girl also turned and fled, her bare feet on the stone paving making no sound, so that a moment later she seemed to have been nothing more than a dream or a vision.
I got to my feet slowly and wiped the tears away. All thought of exploring had left me and I turned back to the room where my new friends were. They looked up as I entered the door.
"Wallah!" Babrak exclaimed. "He has a keen nose. Have you found the kitchens already, brother?"
"I hope you left enough food for us," Hilmi teased.
I shook my head. My tongue still felt too big for my mouth and I could not atempt speech.
"Hush," Hamed commanded. "See how pale his face is. What has happened, Fuad?"
I shook my head, swallowed and finally spoke.
"I have just seen a djinna!"
Hamed and Babrak both made the sign for protection against the evil eye and stared at me with open eyes, but Hilmi laughed.
"A djinna? Come, come, Fuad. No djinn would dare to venture into al-Quds - or at least, not into the house of Guy d'Orleans, let alone a female one."
"Don't mock," Babrak reproved him. "What aspect did this djinna take, Fuad?"
"She appeared to me as a girl with red hair and green eyes."
I collapsed onto the bench beside the table where Hamed had his pen and paper spread out.
I was totally unprepared for the roar of laughter that greeted my announcement. Babrak alone refrained from laughing at first, but his lips twitched violently and finally he too threw back his head and gave himself up to mirth. Hamed was the first to regain self-control.
"Fuad, you fool," he gasped, wiping his eyes. "That was no djinna, that was the daughter of your lord and mine."
"Yes," Hilmi chimed in. "Her name is Ermintrude, though her friends call her Trudy."
"And I assure you she is not djinna, she's far too solid for that. Once, when I first joined Guy's household, I stared at her too long and she slapped my face - hard." Babrak rubbed his cheek.
"Hush!" Hilmi held up his hand.
We were all silent and I heard plainly the sound of Nasrani bells, ringing all over al-Quds. Some were deep and sonorous, others high pitched and tinny, but on the whole I thought them a pleasant sound that a True Believer could have enjoyed if they had not been so bound up in the Nasrani religion.
"Ah, good. Not long now till breakfast," Hilmi said. "Come on, Hamed. Finish that poem or else your appetite will not be good enough."
