Alisha: A Desert Urchin Part II: Alharibin

By frank keith

The worst sand storm from time immemorial is rushing over the lands of Sultan Mejhem ibn El-Hashem’s territory. Within its murkiness and brutally assaulted by sand and dust trots a large caravan. It comes from the coastal city of Tyre and its mission is to bring the Byzantine ambassador to el-Hashem in Sakakah. The goal is to bring the two allies closer together in their fight against the barbarian tribes from the far north.
Meanwhile, Alisha, Zenobia and the Vandal Geisarix are still locked up in the dungeon. The girls had fallen from grace with the sultan and would from now on serve as sexual objects for his soldiers. But things turn out a little different than everyone thinks. The girls are unexpectedly released from their cells. They are brought back into the palace, where they are cleaned, handed new clothes and prepared to be served as sex slaves for special guests of the sultan.
As it turns out, this is a prime opportunity for Alisha and Zenobia to escape, but not before they are forced to perform an awful deed. They manage to free others from the dungeons too and make their way into the city, barely escaping recapture from roving patrols of soldiers.
Alisha safely guides the other escapees to a certain house in the city, whose owner she knows. They are safe there for the time being, but on the next day already they are once again forced to flee.
They make their way to Farid’s house. There they also find shelter and a hiding place and they even learn that Farid is the true emir of Sakakah. In addition, they get informed about other truths concerning the sultan and other persons.
But their prime concern is getting out of the city. This is made very difficult by the sultan’s significant search efforts to find them.
When they are informed that a delegation of Vandals is coming to town, it raises the hopes of Alisha, Zenobia and Geisarix, for they expect to get help from them to escape the sultan’s clutch. However, this still poses problems since the delegation is not a large force at all, but merely a small group of warriors.
The three fugitives are taken to another house in yet another part of the city. There, Geisarix and the girls enjoy a big surprise; another Vandal sits before them on a chair, bound and gagged. He is freed from the fetters, and then he and Geisarix make plans that will hopefully help them to escape.
But then they get informed that the sultan and the Vandals are no longer enemies and that the sultan and the Byzantines are no allies. What does this mean for the escapees? Is this news even true, or did the diabolical emir concoct a deception? If not, what will happen to the Vandal delegation? The sultan has no Geisarix to present them with, after all, and this was the main reason why the Vandal delegation had been summoned to Sakakah in the first place. Will there be a war now, or will the opposing parties find a consensus?
Indeed, will the men of the caravan make it through the dreadful dust storm? Or will they find death in it? The roving bandits and rebels are a scourge too. Will they put an end to their journey instead? If not, what will become of the relationship between the sultanate and the Eastern Roman Empire?
And what about the relationship between Alisha, Zenobia and Geisarix? Will Alisha remain devoted to Zenobia alone, or will she drift towards Geisarix? Can the three find common ground instead, and form a successful love triangle?

• Language: English
• Publisher: frank keith
• Release date: Feb 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370545469

Book preview

Alisha: A Desert Urchin

Part II

Alharibin

By Frank Keith

Copyright © 2017 by Frank Keith

All rights reserved

The contents of this work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any way or by any means, whether electronic, mechanical, or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the author.

Table of Contents

Introduction

1 The Ambassador

2 Sakakah & the Haboob

3 Five Caged Birds

4 Whore Slaves

5 A Noble Vandal

6 Alisha & Zenobia

7 The Escape

8 Salim

9 Farid

10 An Exchange of Ideas

11 The Vandal Delegation

12 The Safe House

Other Books & Services by the author

Introduction

The worst sand storm from time immemorial is rushing over the lands of Sultan Mejhem ibn El-Hashem’s territory. Within its murkiness and brutally assaulted by sand and dust trots a large caravan. It comes from the coastal city of Tyre and its mission is to bring the Byzantine ambassador to el-Hashem in Sakakah. The goal is to bring the two allies closer together in their fight against the barbarian tribes from the far north.

Meanwhile, Alisha, Zenobia and the Vandal Geisarix are still locked up in the dungeon. The girls had fallen from grace with the sultan and would from now on serve as sexual objects for his soldiers. But things turn out a little different than everyone thinks. The girls are unexpectedly released from their cells. They are brought back into the palace, where they are cleaned, handed new clothes and prepared to be served as sex slaves for special guests of the sultan.

As it turns out, this is a prime opportunity for Alisha and Zenobia to escape, but not before they are forced to perform an awful deed. They manage to free others from the dungeons too and make their way into the city, barely escaping recapture from roving patrols of soldiers.

Alisha safely guides the other escapees to a certain house in the city, whose owner she knows. They are safe there for the time being, but on the next day already they are once again forced to flee.

They make their way to Farid’s house. There they also find shelter and a hiding place and they even learn that Farid is the true emir of Sakakah. In addition, they get informed about other truths concerning the sultan and other persons.

But their prime concern is getting out of the city. This is made very difficult by the sultan’s significant search efforts to find them.

When they are informed that a delegation of Vandals is coming to town, it raises the hopes of Alisha, Zenobia and Geisarix, for they expect to get help from them to escape the sultan’s clutch. However, this still poses problems since the delegation is not a large force at all, but merely a small group of warriors.

The three fugitives are taken to another house in yet another part of the city. There, Geisarix and the girls enjoy a big surprise; another Vandal sits before them on a chair, bound and gagged. He is freed from the fetters, and then he and Geisarix make plans that will hopefully help them to escape.

But then they get informed that the sultan and the Vandals are no longer enemies and that the sultan and the Byzantines are no allies. What does this mean for the escapees? Is this news even true, or did the diabolical emir concoct a deception? If not, what will happen to the Vandal delegation? The sultan has no Geisarix to present them with, after all, and this was the main reason why the Vandal delegation had been summoned to Sakakah in the first place. Will there be a war now, or will the opposing parties find a consensus?

Indeed, will the men of the caravan make it through the dreadful dust storm? Or will they find death in it? The roving bandits and rebels are a scourge too. Will they put an end to their journey instead? If not, what will become of the relationship between the sultanate and the Eastern Roman Empire?

And what about the relationship between Alisha, Zenobia and Geisarix? Will Alisha remain devoted to Zenobia alone, or will she drift towards Geisarix? Can the three find common ground instead, and form a successful love triangle?

1 The Ambassador

The sun’s orb touched the horizon as the caravan departed the oasis. It was the hot time of the year and traveling by night was preferred over traveling under the torridly hot sun. The relaxed hours spent lounging beneath palm trees and by the refreshing pond had done well for the members of the column and their beasts too.

The animals trotted leisurely onward, heading out into the desert. Three days already they had been on the go. Coming from the coastal city of Tyre, this was the last leg of the journey for them and the emissary. He was assured that they would reach Sakakah sometime during the mid-morning hours of the coming day.

The caravan was accompanied by a contingent of soldiers numbering one hundred men. They were present to protect an emissary, whose name was Quintus Faustus Abundanitus. This man had been designated to be the Byzantine ambassador to Sultan Mejhem ibn El-Hashem.

Upon his arrival to Palestine, Abundanitus just barely escaped a group of enemy ships as his vessel was within sight of Tyre. His small fleet made it into the harbor before the pursuers could catch them. When he informed the governor Cassius Septimus Lactanius of the incident, he was told that the waters had been made more unsafe of late by enemy vessels out of Carthage … as if the usual piracy had not caused enough trouble. Ambassador Abundanitus was visibly surprised, seeing that the Vandals had thus far been a purely land-based threat. And the governor was in turn surprised that nobody knew about this yet in Constantinople. At any rate, just to be on the safe side, Governor Lactanius had ordered the troop of one hundred men to accompany the ambassador on his way across the desert to assure his safety. Alas, it was not only the Vandals who were a troublesome bunch, but bandits and a few rebels too roamed the empty lands.

And with the last vestiges of the oasis called Jawaharat Alssahra behind them, and the orange-colored horizon burning in their backs, the long string of camels and their riders snaked out into the lonely wilderness. The darkness of night already lay ahead and it looked foreboding. From now on until their arrival to the city of Sakakah, these men and beasts would be alone, surrounded by sand, stones and the nightly creatures who call this ominous region home.

Abundanitus was very ill-tempered. The ride on camelback was for him a most strenuous experience and not at all as comfortable as his well-cushioned chairs that he was so accustomed to. And the temperatures had cooled down quite a bit too and were a radical change from the daytime heat. And making things even worse was the dirt, for the dust kicked up by the countless camel feet irritated his eyes and clogged his nostrils.

Also stirring around in his mind, adding to his agitation over those previous concerns above, were the dangers that the governor had warned him about, lurking out here in the darkness and behind sand dunes and between crags and crevices. These dangers were multitudinous in number, and they could have two legs or eight legs, six legs or four legs, or no legs at all, but the most dangerous of all had but two legs, and they would not mind it at all to capture such a fat prize as was Ambassador Abundanitus.

True, there were a hundred men under arms at hand solely for his protection, but the ambassador was neither a brave nor an adventurous man, and so he still preferred the high and thick walls of Constantinople and the substantial cushions on his bed and large chair over this uncomfortable, dangerous and dusty environment. Three curses for the emperor!

He gathered together the collar of his heavy cloak, drawing it closer around his neck to ward off the increasingly cold temperatures, and he cursed beneath his breath once again, and wondered in irritation how it could get so cold at night in a place that was such an oven in daytime. What a cursed land this here was, and again he cursed the emperor three times for sending him out here into the wilds, and he hoped that at least he was not being sent on a function fraught with futility and further fretfulness.

Abundanitus peered ahead into the darkness of night, a night which in these parts was as perfectly gloomy as it was perfectly blazingly light in daytime, and he tried not to think what might be lurking out there, waiting for him to happen by unawares. And he was glad of all the men who were sent with him to assure his safety and comfort as far as this was even possible in this wretched place. He made a mental note that on occasion he would personally thank the governor for his foresight and concern with some kind of special gift.

The commander of the soldiers guarding the caravan, Centurion Septimus Tullus Dalmatius, slowed down his camel a bit so as to let the ambassador’s riding animal catch up with him, and when they were side-by-side, he spoke to him, saying; Sire, how are you doing? Is the saddle still tied tightly enough and are the cushions keeping in place for thou comfort?

The ambassador let out a grunt to display his discontent. And then he answered gruffly, Comfort? Surely you jest. Is this beast a pillow? Is this chill a warm summer evening in my garden? Is this desert Elysium? No, my dear Septimus Tullus Dalmatius, I am far, far away from comfort. He readjusted the cloak and spat out.

The commander grinned, but the ambassador could not see this in the darkness. Days before, the commander would have been angered by this man’s gruffness and rudeness, but not anymore. Any other person would have thanked the commander for his concern. However, Dalmatius has since then gotten to know who this Abundanitus was and his cantankerous ways, and he was glad that this spoiled boor was feeling miserable. I am sorry for your discomfiture, sire. I would like to draw your attention to the fact that we already have two-thirds of the journey behind us.

I know this, Dalmatius. I am not an idiot.

I beg your pardon, sire, my statement was not meant to demean your person. Commander Dalmatius had actually said this as a small hint for the ambassador to quit being such a daisy. The centurion glanced up into the heavens and noticed that nary a star was visible, and in particular ahead they were wholly gone. He feared that perhaps some bad weather might be lying ahead.

The ambassador grunted again and stared ahead, as if he could see what lies beyond the next few steps ahead. They rode together for a while; side by side they went in silence. The sound of countless camel feet walking across the desert floor, the creaking of leather, an occasional coughing or an animal snorting were all the noises that could be heard after their conversation had ebbed … that and the wind, which seemed to be getting stronger.

As if the temperature was not low enough, this three-time cursed desert must blow its bedeviled gales into my face.

Indeed, the commander looked concerned, but this too remained obscured to the ever griping ambassador. Dalmatius contemplated for a few moments if he should tell the emissary about a possible upcoming storm. Knowing that this bad news would only increase the man’s foul mood, he preferred not to. However, as much as he would rather remain silent about this, he knew that he had no other choice but to inform him, seeing the man’s utter unfamiliarity with the desert and the potential dangers.

"I would like to draw your attention to the fact that a ghibli is on the march, sire."

Although Abundanitus could hardly see the features of the man riding next to him, he turned his head and stared at him with an irritated expression. "Who are the ghibli, if I may ask?"

"Not who … what! This is also known as a Haboob in these parts, sire … a sandstorm, or some call it a dust storm."

A what?

I’m afraid that we must seek shelter straight away.

Shelter? Out here? Surely, you have gone mad! Oh dread …!

As the commander had feared, this news brought a most unpleasant string of ranting and raving from the ambassador’s mouth. But he shut up rather quickly when Abundanitus realized that opening an oral cavity in this situation only filled it with sand and dust. His ranting was quickly replaced with curses and spitting and coughing.

With a grin on his lips the commander said loudly; I must make haste, sire, and retake the lead of the column. My scouts and I will seek out an appropriate place to stop the caravan. He gave the spur to his camel and rode ahead, leaving the ill-tempered ambassador behind.

The winds were picking up ever more and the pain the sand caused, pricking upon the exposed skin, increased manifold. Soon, the face of every person in the caravan was covered with veils, with but narrow slits left open where the eyes were. It was extremely difficult to see anything at all and it was at this moment that the ambassador started to admire the camels for their steadfastness in face of such an assault by the elements. They kept trotting through the sand and dust impregnated winds as if it were the most normal thing in the world. And his admiration also went out to the commander and the few men he took with him to ride ahead in this mess to seek shelter for everyone else. It was now also clear that the commander had been right as this started to become a full-fledged storm.

Abundanitus had his head lowered to prevent the uncountable fast moving particles from getting into his eyes. But, as the winds got stronger yet he had to shut them tightly to protect them. He felt miserable and he had lost count how many times he had cursed this land, the mission he had been sent on and the emperor too.

It took a whole while before the ambassador heard a familiar voice. It was the commander. He had finally returned and he was shouting something to Abundanitus. Although he could not understand everything, he understood enough to know that something was going on. He noticed that the caravan was veering off to the right. To his regret, they were now heading dead straight into the winds. As much as he would like to just stop and get off this camel to cower closely on the ground he knew that he had no other choice but to do as the others did in order to survive.

And then he