The Twelfth Scroll: Captain Ramad’s Tent

[Zaim al-Daleel]

The party was ushered back to the camp in a rush of great excitement. The whole camp was out; campfires blazed brightly.
Captain Ramad bin Yusif al-Kahn met each member of the party with a sincere embrace of gratitude.

"The tale of your courage will forever be a part of the House Fajirik!" he exclaimed. "And as such we wish to give to you two of our most valued historical possessions."

As the moon continued its path toward its zenith, he presented two items, wrapped in fine silks: a scimitar of exceeding quality and a light wooden shield. The shield was round and banded with a rune engraved brass band.

"These items where taken from a mighty House Ashurim warrior over 200 years ago. He fell in battle, but only after 22 arrows pierced his mighty frame!" Ramad proclaimed loudly. Then a cloud of confusion passed across his face. He wasn't sure who to hand them to. Then, he smile was back. He handed the items to his assistant.
"But first," he beamed, "join me in my tent for a coffee."

Captain Ramad held the tent flap open, waving the party inside. When Sahra hesitated he insisted she join in. "My soldiers spoke of your courage as well, camel driver."

Once everyone was inside he stepped in, lowering the flap behind him and leaving his personal guards outside. Inside the light was much more subdued. Scented candles flickered filling the air with a touch of cinnamon. A veiled woman in the darkest of blue robes sat in the shadows, cross-legged on some thick pillows.

Captain Ramad, cleared his thoat and introduced her. "Dalilah al-Harounah, advisor and daughter of House Ashurim's commander Takaz al-Harounah."

Dalilah nodded to each in turn.

"We were," Ramad began, then hurriedly continued, "meeting to discuss a particular point of the treaty, when this night's terrible events began."

"You will forgive my impudence," Amir al-Ahmar begins, clearly impatient with such posturing. "But I do not have the tongue of a diplomat. This allag is a slow death for both your houses. Warriors who are denied their vengence twist upon themselves until they become a poison root like the sorcerer Hirakur. You squabble over petty details while men's hearts grow dark and black only to shrivel and die or be restored in the blood of their enemies. Fate has scoured these lands of all manner of bird and beast. Are you so eager to erase every human soul as well? I would rather see those treasures you offered, Captain Ramad, returned to their families as an offering of peace or an invitation to war. Your arrogance lost you a paradise few people ever know. Perhaps now is the time to lay down the sword and see if Fate will turn her hand once again and restore what she took."

With a scowl Amir stands, arms crossed, half-expecting to be thrust from the tent by a furious Captain Ramad.

"We have no fate but that which we are given," Ramad replied with a sigh. "Mine is to maintain peace between two families. Not one drop of blood has been shed in two hundred years... well, until the traitor Hirakur tried to force us to renew the battle that killed his ancestor."

"Our comrade, if anything else, is very outspoken." Said Lum trying to diffuse the situation with a smile, "but he does not speak for all of us. It would be rude of us, and I humbly apologize, for not accepting your gracious gifts earlier and I do so now on behalf of our group." As Lum awaited the handing over of the scimitar and shield he attempted to carefully phrase his next statement. "War, when there is reason, is the true test of a warrior and it's leader. I see no reason here Captain Ramad. I see a waste of energy that could be redirected to make both your houses greater." Bowing deeply to Dalilah al-Harounah, and holding his bow the correct moment of time, he raised up and looked into her eyes and spoke gently, "Peace would be welcome, would it not? I see you here on your own, without a husband, am I correct? Please do not take offense. I ask because it has always been a means to an end to unite two clans through the proposal of marriage. Would you entertain such a proposal for the good of your clan?"

[Zaim al-Daleel]

"Were that was so easy," the Captain smiled. Dililah blushed and said nothing. "For you see, we are but the commanders of two opposing armies. The families do not even live here any longer. Wealthy patrons in far off Tajar and Qudra maintain this standoff of revenge, each family blaming the other for an event that many have forgotten."

"That is truly unfortunate," Lum said, slightly discouraged. "It would have been a good union, such a fair desert rose amongst us poor unslightly men would have brought much happiness to all concerned." Lum pondered for a moment, then asked, "Is there no means to an end to his stalemate Captain Ramad? Perhaps a way of having the two houses voice their greivances and allow an arbitrator to conclude this misbegotten affair?" Lum's eyes strayed ever so slightly to Delilah, ever aware of her intoxicating pleasures that awaited the man she would bestow them upon.

With a wave and a smile he invited all to sit down while he prepared coffee. After he poured and everyone was served, he gestured to Dalilah. "I am not the only one who would show my gratitute."

"Ninety years from now, the House leaders may again renew the allag, or opt for niga, a declaration of hostilities," Captain Ramad replied, not noticing Lum's wandering eyes. "Or they may choose hidna, a cessation of war, in which case all our people can take down their tents and leave this wretched place for good."

Dalilah presents the party a folded, wool garment. "A Jellaba- but not an ordinary one. When I need to avoid being seen, this has served me well. It saddens me to part with it, but I must repay you for what you have done."

"I meant no offense in turning down your generous gifts," Amir explains. "I was merely trying to suggest that there might be a better use for them. Of course we will accept these honorable items." The desert warrior is clearly still quite stiff and uncomfortable.
"Clearly Zhalum has a better understanding of politics than I." Amir continues. "My sensibilities are those of a simple nomadic chieftain. For my own part, I could not endure being a pawn in some petty game of diplomacy. I spoke of matters I may never understand."
"I fear I may have already spoken too much," Amir says to Captain Ramad. "But there is a matter to discuss which concerns the true nature of our journey here. It is a matter of grave importance to the noble merchant Fahad al-Zakir." Then with an unsubtle glance towards Dalilah al-Harounah he adds, "It is a matter which should only be shared with those whom he trusts completely."

Amir waits to see if Ramad dismisses the house Ahurim commander or assures him of her trust before beginning the tale of Sita and their journey to Vahtov.

Ramad's countenance darkened a bit. "Then, it was not by accident that you are more than a group of merchants." He refilled his coffee glass with studied care. "Fahad's matter's can be discussed here, so long as it does not interfere with the allag."

"There is no need to cast your suspicions at us," Amir assures the Captain. "Our intentions here are honorable, as surely our actions today have shown. Allow me to explain..."

[Zaim al-Daleel]

With that he begins the tale of Fahad al-Zakir and his lost love, Sita with the best storytelling his is capable of. "We ask you for any aid or information you have which could help us find this Sita." Amir says having completed his tale.

Ramad's eyebrows raised in relieved surprise. "That's all?" He smiled. "Another example of the proud and wealthy families penchant for allowing grudges to carry on for generations."
He refilled coffee all around. "I am familiar with the story. I understand Sita died a decade ago- natural causes."

Amir's eyes glaze, you could almost swear, with tears at hearing Ramad's words which bring their quest to a crashing halt.

"Are you quite sure?" he asks, regaining his composure, "As to her death and he manner in which she died?"

"Not at all sure," Ramad admitted. "We are talking about stories, gossip, told around campfires."

"Do you know of anyone who might be more certain of Sita's fate?"
Lum stayed silent and quietly drank his coffee as his companions pursued their line of questioning. Every now and then he stole a glance of Delilah, knowing that forbidden fruit such as she would be all the more sweeter in the tasting
"Perhaps someone in Vahtov would know more of her fate."
Captain Ramad thought for a moment as the assembled sat pondering this new bit of information. "If you would continue your journey to Vahtov, I offer you protection as far as the western edge of the Mountains of Forgotten Dreams. After that... you'll have to avoid bandits... perhaps if you sought the aid of the spirit Natifa..." he trailed off thoughtfully.

Amir raised his eyebrows curiously. "What manner of spirit is this Natifa, and where might we find it?"

Ya’qub relates his experience back at Jamal Oasis:
“I learned that The House of Dhi'b (Sons of the Wolf) have been raiding caravans thoughout the southern reaches of the High Desert. Raiding in clans of 200 mounted warriors, they rival the House of Asad for control of the lands around Jamal Oasis. In the process of discovering the nature of our greatest threat once we leave Captain Ramad’s sanctuary, I heard a gray bearded nomad speak of this Natifa. ‘The spirit Natifa knows their movements...’ he said.

“ ‘I'd rather take my chances with the living, than question the dead!’ another spoke.

“I listened carefully, noting that the caravan route might be a prime target for these raiders. I asked them who this ‘Natifa’ was and why does the spirit of the same draw such fear?"

“‘Why wouldn't a spirit draw such fear!’ the old merchant answered. ‘Life is short enough, full of natural dangers, why meddle with the supernatural ~may fate guide me away from them~ that's what I say.

“He told me this tale: ‘At the western end of the Mountains of Forgotten Dreams, lies the Burning Pool of Natifa. There, in a burning fountain lives the spirit. They say that she'll assist a traveler that can please her and that she is quite unforgiving of those who fail.’"

"Traffic with such spirits is always fraught with peril." Amir says furrowing his brow in consternation. "I would risk dealing only if I knew her aid had some use."

Dalilah al-Harounah yawned. "The hour grows late. I must return to the House Ashurim camp."

"Would you like an escort?" Lum asked of Dalilah, his countenance stoic in appearance, but his heart... oh his heart.

[Zaim al-Daleel]

"Surely the commander's guards can guide her safely back to her camp." Amir says sternly to Zhalum, sensing a troubling glimmer in the Mamluk's eyes. "We have more important matters here at the moment."

Lum raised an eyebrow and replied with a smile, "I trust that you have everything in hand here my friend Amir and my presence here, I believe, is not as important as making sure our host's guest travels safely from his tent to hers." Standing up and taking the newly gifted scimitar from Captain Ramad, Lum continued, "Please my lady, it would honor me to escort you back to your home."

"I insist," Amir al-Ahmar says catching Zhalum firmly by the wrist. "These matter concerns you as well as anyone. You would be well to honor the generosity of Captain Ramad's time as well as his treasures." His eyes stray for a moment to the Ashurim warrior's scimitar in the hands of the Mamluk.

At Lum's offer, Dalilah smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She turned to Captain Ramad and muttered something to the effect that she really needed to return.

Seemingly oblivious to the discussion between Amir and Lum, Dalilah stood and with the help of Captain Ramad, put on the robe of a House Fajirik warrior. After wrapping her face with a scarf, she could have passed any but the closet inspections.

Captain Ramad paused by the tent flap, ready to escort Dalilah out into the night. "I invite any or all of you to accompany us. Do not despoil my home with anger; it would be worse than certain behaviors that have not gone unnoticed."

"Out of respect for our host I will not remove your hand from your wrist, Amir. Next time I may not be so generous." Freeing himself from the tyrannical grip of his traveling companion, Lum spoke up, "I will accompany you, thank you Captain Ramad."

With a shake of his head, Amir al-Ahmar realizes he will never understand the intrigues and innuendoes of court life which have invaded even this simple desert camp. Matters were clearer, more direct among the al-Badian, he thinks to himself before rising to accompany Captain Ramad and his host to the camp of the Ashurim.
Stunned by the sudden animosity between the two heroes who risked life and limb together only moments before, Ya'qub sat silent.
At the invitation to accompany the good Captain, he finds his voice: "I, too would be interested in traveling to see this other camp," he says, hoping to perhaps be a calming influence on the others.
But then his sense of responsibility of the caravan kicks in "But I would like to see to it that the caravan goods have been properly secured for the evening."