Shadya
Shadya is silent, reflective for a space when her turn comes 'round again. Then....
"From Orlando's tales we know that he has had other companions in his travels, friends with whom he has fought, laughed, and bled. In the relatively short time we've been together, my friends, we too have fought and bled together, you for me and I for you. But you are not the first with whom I have done so. I will tell you of my ashiya, but it will not be a short tale, I fear, and in no wise as amusing as the other stories.
"I was raised and trained in the Temple of Tears, a place of refuge and a school somewhat [she indicates a direction] of here. The Temple takes in foundlings and orphans: those to whom no tribe claims rights. There we are each trained to our calling as best it can be determined and then sent out into the world to make our way and thereby to reflect honour upon our training.
"My ashiya - that is, my belonging group, my group of companions-of-age," she adds, translating the new word for her out-land friends, "numbered seven. We played and argued and listened like the sisters we were raised to be. Layla and Zabbah were of craft and courtyard and did not follow the adventurous path, at least insomuch as the rest of us saw. The 'rest of us' were Maysa, Dima, Nura , and myself - and Little Aisha. Little Aisha," the warrior gives a small sigh, "idolized her elders, especially Maysa, our leader, and tried to be in all things as we were. Aisha was, perhaps, rather young to be placed in our ashiya, but one does not question the patterns of Ashar; there is no dictating how many she-babies will be abandoned to the desert each season. The years after Aisha's birth were better than most though they had augured poorly. Aisha was bright and eager, like a puppy growing too fast and wanting too much." Again Shadya seems wistful and her glance rests on Nasir.
"What there is of note in our growing up is, alas, o'r shadowed by the events that took the last of our childhood from us. Hear, O my friends, how it was that I entered the House of Wisdom and the Courtyard of Regret.
"Maysa, eldest though she was, tended to blow like the winds of autumn, first hot, then cold, and always moving. Rash were her words at times albeit always regretted when her temper had cooled. And, Ashar knows, the time of which I now speak will be regretted always.
"It came to pass in those days that several of us were to go into town on an errand and -- for some reason which I've long forgotten or never knew - Maysa refused Aisha's plea to accompany us. Nonetheless, Aisha, being more like Maysa than Maysa herself, did follow us. We others knew this and yet Maysa would not see and would not wait our pace on our youngest sister. We who followed did keep watch and so it is known that Aisha reached town as safely as we did ourselves. But in the bustle of our errand, we lost track of the little one, and Maysa would not let us search her out before we left. Nura did cast a speaking cantrip so that our sister would know we were leaving, but Aisha must have been too much hurt by Maysa's attitude. Thus it was that it was late, very late, when at last Aisha returned to our sleeping hall. Or, rather should I say, 'twas early and the sands were lit with the morning star and false dawn when I welcomed her during my watch."
"Aisha, I later learned, had fallen in with a young man, full comely and of honeyed tongue. I think she said once that he was a student, too, but later events say this was not so. The meat of the matter was that Aisha had fallen in love! Thus there was many an afternoon when she was no longer to be found in the halls and yards of the Temple, and many a late evening that her horse was stabled tired from hard riding. She was much enamoured, and, to hear her talk, so was he with her - truly a thing of wonder unless his intent was to merely make her his concubine. Would she agree to that? We could not tell.
"We - Nura and Dima and I - did try and talk with our young sister, but the viper of ill-feeling had lodged deep within her and we were none of us old enough to understand or wise enough to take the matter to our masters. We told ourselves 'twas but new moon love and soon spent.
There came a day that Aisha - set on, we are sure, by her serpent of a lover - did tell Maysa of sighting a white gazelle in a distant oasis. Maysa was fired to capture and fetch back the creature, and she, in turn, persuaded Nura to accompany her. Thus did Maysa intend to honour the upcoming occasion, for it was nearing the time that Dima was to make her vows unto the Sisterhood. I was not included in Maysa's expedition, for Dima, loving me beyond my worth, had honoured me in asking that I keep guard over her vigil.
"Although both Nura and Maysa had taken vigil and were neither of them still apprentices in their crafts, they were also neither of them far beyond that time. In the oasis to which Aisha directed them, they were set upon and taken by bandits amongst whom was numbered Aisha's serpent-hearted beloved. Sore were their trials in the cave which was their prison, but far more sore, I say with gladness, was the heart of Aisha when the scales dropped from her eyes and she saw to what torment she had given her sisters. Therefore, in the darkness, did our small sister creep back to us and confess her deed. Thus it was that Dima and I rode out into the desert to seek the evil place.
"Foolish and more than foolish! For a new-made cleric and an apprentice warrior to think they could succeed where older - though by but a year or two," Shadya's voice is wan, "warrior and mage had fallen victim. Praise and more praise unto Aisha who lived a lifetime in one night and had the wisdom to further confess her failings to those wiser than we. Thus we were followed into the night by the Temple's Mistress of Magic and the Mistress of Swords, albeit too far behind us for us to know. With them came Aisha, to mark the path with tears.
"Dima and I, by Ashar's will and Aisha's directions, had little trouble in tracking our missing sisters. What we found was a cave like unto those described in tales by storytellers. This one was ancient. It is my belief that the kidnappers of our sisters had not long made this their lair, but had come upon it by accident themselves: a long forgotten cave for 40 thieves.
"Nonetheless, our fortune held even beyond this, for the bandits, having sated themselves on both wine - for there was ample evidence of that around - and torture, did not keep good watch." Shadya pats her saif in memory. "And, truth be told, they were not all present when we crept in to free our sisters. That was a matter of moments. Repairing the damage that had been done, however ... Ah!
"Dima set to work: the first blood cure by Ashar's new-made cleric. But, 'twas not quickly enough done, and, before either Nura or Maysa could yet walk, I heard noises at the cave entrance. The balance of kidnappers had, seemingly, been off to fetch more wine. And I knew I had not yet the skill to fight one against many, and Maysa was in no shape yet to stand at my side. We huddled back, working our way into the shadowed reaches of the cave. We found, low set behind a skirt of rockfall that had looked impassable, a low tunnel. On our bellies we four wriggled and found ourselves in a partially collapsed second cave. Working farther back, yet another cave. This one once was sealed by a massive granite door, marvelously carved. But this, too, had been partially shattered, apparently by some earthquake that, we guessed, had hidden this series of rooms. Behind that door we saw ancient urns and jars, iron-bound chests and brittle woven baskets and other such wares: a storeroom, we thought, of those who originally claimed these caves. There, too, a glint of gold and winking gem: a treasure room, surely. For us, however, it was a hiding place and hospital. There Dima expended all the power she had left in the healing of Nura and then Maysa.
"While I stood guard, listening for our foes who by now had certainly discovered the loss of their prisoners - and a few of their comrades, Dima worked. Thus neither of us noticed that Nura, still weak from all she had endured, was drawn towards one of the chests. 'Twas only when she murmured, "It sings" that I turned to see her lift a flask from within and remove its seal. Ah, Nura, you were the loveliest of all - and a creature of no sense. What was the song you heard?" Shadya sighs.
"O my friends, have you heard tales of the Djinns of the desert? They are spirits, some evil, some beneficent, but all controllable only by most shrewd magics or clever stratagems. They hate being entrapped and caged. Not the usual final exam for an apprentice warrior. Nonetheless, suddenly, Dima, Maysa, and I found ourselves fighting with but saifs and nimbleness against a most malevolent Djinn billowing out of Nura's flask! Awesome and terrible. I did not comprehend what it roared, but the rock walls began to tremble and we knew ourselves, of a certainty, lost.
"Then, as suddenly, Aisha was among us, swinging at the Djinn and dodging rocks. I stuck out as well and then ... and ten, I knew nothing more. I woke to the Mistress of Swords' voice, amid dust and rock and the bright, bright stars. By Ashar's grace, our teachers had arrived in time to take on that evil spirit themselves! Even I could tell that our Mistress of Magic had spent much energy in the battle. How she and Mistress Siham had fared could only be vouched by the fact that I knew myself to be still alive. For which I gave thanks to Ashar! Only then did I look around to reckon what else the cost.
"Maysa still stood. And Dima, albeit with a broken arm and no power left to mend. But .. the others?
"Maysa and I and Mistress Siham dug and called and listened and shifted stone for an eternity, or so it seems still in my dreams. And, because I could recall where the chests had been, we found Nura in less time than seemed possible. She was more dead than alive, her legs crushed 'neath stone, but she was alive. Alive! Not so Aisha. We found our littlest sister last and deepest. Nay, I misspoke. Maysa found her. And... methinks our leader's heart did break in the finding."
Very quietly, she adds, "It was .. some two year ago or so. Although we gave them time and love ... ah, me, Ashar's will is unfathomable. I have never seen either Nura or Maysa whole thereafter."
Her memories overtake Shadya and she lapses into silence.
Shadya answers steadily, "Yes, babies are abandoned to the desert still. Although the Prophet said that girl children should be as valued as boy children, old ways die hard; and harder yet when the year has been harsh and the desert, particularly cruel. If a tribe is facing another year with even less than they faced the last, it is seen as a matter of survival to lessen the demands on already-stressed resources." Shadya speaks somewhat apologetically, slightly emphasizing the first word, "Traditionally, the birth of a girl is less desired than the birth of a boy. Thus girls born during a bad year are truly unwanted and, if the survival of the tribe is a risk, are abandoned - to live or die as Ashar wills but not at the expense of the tribe. The desert is not kind and the tribe must make hard decisions for the sake of all." The warrior's voice reflects acceptance, no condemnation of the situation she's related.
"The nomad tribes value the freedom of the desert. Most feel they would wither and die in the confines of the cities, were they to give up that freedom for the security and resources the townfolk command. But the desert requires sacrifice. The clerics of the Temple of Tears, having resources unavailable to the deep-desert bedu, have heeded the words of the Prophet. Thus, if they find such a babe abandoned, she is given home and nurture and training, that she might live to glorify Ashar and bring honour unto the Temple. Thus it was with me and my ashiya."
Fiamma commented curiously, "It's clear that Aisha's lover was no good, but, when you said she'd fallen in love with him -- your tone made it sound like a thing of wonder."
"Why is love a thing of wonder?" Shadya's voice teases as she answers the question. "Is not Love always a wonderful thing? My people are as romantic as any on earth, I think; but it is rare that the call of the heart is allowed to overwhelm custom. As with Orlando's people, one marries the one chosen by one's father. One marries to benefit one's family and tribe. Mayhaps 'twill be the one one's heart has chosen, but, if not, one may always write poetry." Shadya laughs outright. "But that is not what you meant, is it? You wondered why we thought the fact that a boy might return our sister's love is something to marvel at. Yes, boy meets girl and boy falls in love with girl amongst the desert peoples as well as amongst those of other lands; that is not a marvel. But, you see, we though he was Bedu or a student -- whose parents were well enough off to spare hm to study The Book, or even a merchant's son with time on his hands. Knowing now that he was just a robber and an outcast, there is nothing to wonder at but our sister's blindness. But, at the time...."
Shadya looks at the half-elf. "Ah, still I am explaining poorly. We are of the Temple of Tears." She emphasizes each word as if that explains everything; then, seeing it does not, continues. "We were foundlings, left to the desert, disowned by the tribes. We have no father to choose mates for us, no tribe who would benefit by choosing us. The Temple does not choose sides when tribe clashes with tribe and its learning is given freely to all. We may be useful; but our use is always temporary: as mercenaries in time of strife or mages in time of need. And we hire out as individuals so that the Temple cannot be accused of favouritism. We have no pedigree, no bloodline, no kin-aid or wealth to bring to a tribe. Oneself alone is not much of a dowry. Zabbaya, whose story I will someday tell you, was an exception that emphasizes the rule."
Shadya takes a deep breath and gazes out across the desert. She speaks more softly. "As for me, I can not imagine the man I could love well enough that I would choose to be his concubine or even his Second Wife. A man who is wealthy enough to afford a hareem can have no need for such as I, and I think that I would wither away without action, without a use for my martial skills. I am as I am: a warrior, rider of Noor, and, now, your friend."
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