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Chapter Six
As the first rays of the sun peeked over the mountains, Bree lay motionless in a corner of the harem’s tent, listening to the soft breathing of the women curled up on rugs all around her.
She’d barely slept a wink, despite her exhaustion, replaying the night’s events over and over in her mind. The women had donned their robes and veils before leaving the suiltaan’s tent, bowing to him unnoticed and then backing out as the cook and musicians had done.
Back at the women’s quarters, Dasheena had pulled Bree aside. “You must entertain the suiltaan tomorrow. It is our custom. He will take it as a great insult if you refuse again. I can teach you to dance,” she went on hastily, when Bree emphatically shook her head.
“I am a queen,” Bree declared. “I do not perform like a trained baboon at the will or whim of any man.”
“You must please him in some way,” Dasheena replied, a note of urgency creeping into her voice. “Do you sing? Can you play a flute or a lyre?”
“I will not be put on display for his amusement,” Bree retorted.
“Our suiltaan is a good and kind man. But he is a man. If you do not obey his command, he will lose face. We must find a way for you to entertain him…or he will punish you and then punish me as well, for my failure to teach you our ways.”
Bree was speechless. She’d been so fixed on her own pride she’d never considered how her refusal might affect Dasheena.
She took the woman’s hand. “I promise I will not put you in harm’s way. Give me some time to think about this. I’m sure there is something I can do to entertain Tahraz while interacting with him as an equal.”
Dasheena looked worried, but she nodded her head. “Sleep well, Queen Bilquis. Morning will be here all too soon.”
After playing the conversation over and over in her mind most of the night, Bree was no closer to a solution. Giving up on the idea of sleep, she crept out of the tent to a small patch of shrubs nearby. The night before, she’d been shown the secluded area where women of the harem took care of their bodily functions. Afterward, she strolled the shores of the lake, watching a flock of ibises suddenly take flight.
She heard a commotion and whirled around. The old cook she’d seen last night was hurrying toward her, babbling in a dialect she couldn’t understand. But it was clear he was upset and wanted her to follow him. Bree nodded and headed toward him.
A huge splash stopped her in her tracks. She whirled around in time to see an enormous crocodile, jaws open wide, lunge out of the depths to snatch a lone egret standing in the reeds.
Bree stifled a scream. She’d had no idea such a dangerous creature lurked in the shallow waters. Bowing to the old man, she tried to express her thanks. He nodded and, sporting a toothless grin, beckoned her to follow him.
They headed to a small tent with a dome-shaped oven outside it. The cook slid a wooden board into the oven and pulled out a clay dish holding a row of the flat loaves she’d seen at last night’s dinner. He reached for one of the hot slabs, motioning for Bree to help herself. Then he sat on the ground, legs crossed. After drizzling the warm bread with honey dipped from a clay pot next to the oven, he reached into a bag at his feet and came up with a handful of chopped dates and nuts. The old man sprinkled the mix onto the bread, folded it, and took a huge bite.
Bree smiled her thanks and followed suit. The bread was made from a coarse grain she didn’t recognize. But, topped with honey and fruit, it was delicious, like a sweet breakfast pastry. They ate in companionable silence.
The early morning air felt cool. She let her mind drift as she surveyed the area. Besides his personal quarters, Tahraz’s compound included half a dozen smaller tents, the horse corral, and pens for goats and sheep. A handful of sleepy-eyed young boys emerged from one of the tents. They headed straight for the old man’s oven and grabbed slabs of the warm bread. They folded the bread and filled the pocket with fruit and nuts before stuffing the treat into their mouths.
The old man barked a command. The boys stopped in their tracks, halfheartedly bowing in Bree’s direction and muttering something she assumed was a greeting. She nodded her head solemnly. To Bree’s astonishment, the old man winked at her then waved them away. The boys ran off toward the pens, driving the animals to the nearby hillside to graze.
Pulling another bag from the pockets of his robe, the cook opened it to reveal a small wooden board covered with painted squares and a handful of carved pieces of bone. He sat the board on a flat rock that served as his makeshift table and arranged several pieces on the board, piling the rest off to one side. He smiled and gestured for Bree to make the first move.
She shook her head and held out both hands, palms up. Apparently the gesture for “I have no idea” was universal, because the old man nodded and carefully moved a piece on her side. Then, offering a few phrases here and there, he played both sides of the game, showing her the simple moves and counter-moves. Bree caught on quickly, and time flew by as they played several games.
Meanwhile, members of the suiltaan’s family came and went, helping themselves to food, stopping to watch the progress of the game, and occasionally offering advice or suggestions. Dasheena appeared, bowed her head to the elderly cook and then curled up at his feet while she silently observed.
“The suiltaan loves this game,” she remarked. “Did you play it often in your tribe?”
The old man pounced, crossing the board and seizing one of her pieces. With a triumphant grin, he swept Bree’s remaining pieces off the board into a pile in front of him. She grinned back, lifting both hands in defeat.
“I’ve never seen it before,” she told Dasheena. “But I have played similar games. This appears to be a contest of strategy rather than luck. It requires the ability to size up your opponent…his willingness to take a risk, his personality.”
She had a flash of inspiration. “Dasheena, does the suiltaan enjoy other games as well?”
“Very much,” she replied. “He plays games with the elders of the tribe and spends time teaching the young boys to play. Games are prized for the lessons they offer. Tahraz believes games teach them there are many ways to deal with situations a man may face.”
“Does the suiltaan play a game on a board that looks like this?” Bree drew a rough chessboard in the sand, briefly explaining the different pieces and the moves they were allowed.
Dasheena shook her head. “I have never seen such a game. But it appears to be one that requires skill and boldness. Those are qualities Tahraz prizes.”
“I think I have found a way to entertain the suiltaan,” Bree said. “If you’ll help me.”
