Authors: Abdulaziz Al-Mahmoud
Halima fell silent, and no one spoke. They felt she had said something they had never heard before, in a style they were not accustomed to hearing.
Salghur and Bin Rahhal smiled. Attar beamed with pride at his daughter's eloquence. Afterwards, Salghur no longer disputed Bin Rahhal's decision.
Bin Rahhal was impressed by what Halima had said. A young woman had argued his own case in a way he could not articulate himself, saving her father from obvious embarrassment and calming the king's burning desire for revenge.
The foursome agreed to keep a Jabrid detachment in Hormuz until stability was restored, and for the king to retain Attar as his adviser.
Before the meeting was concluded, Bin Rahhal tried to remind all those present of the price Salghur had to pay in return for the Jabrids' assistance. He said candidly, âWe had an agreement with the king that Hormuz would waive the annual tribute we pay and cede all its possessions in the island of Bahrain with the exception of the farmstead the king owns there.'
Salghur nodded in agreement as Bin Rahhal spoke, confirming the validity of the arrangement in the presence of Attar. Bin Rahhal took out the document Salghur had signed in Al-Ahsa and showed it to the Hormuzi vizier to seal the deal, asking him to endorse it with his signature as adviser to the king. The meeting came to an end after the agreement was signed.
Bin Rahhal was captivated by Halima. Her image had engraved itself on his mind, dominating his thoughts and emotions.
That night when he put his head down to sleep, she appeared before him, without her veil. Never did he
imagine this could happen to him; was it love? He barely slept that night. In addition to the pain in his arm, there was the throb in his heart and the niggle in his mind. Bin Rahhal turned over restlessly in his bed as if he had a raging fever. Halima visited him in his dreams, talking, smiling and then frowning. He chided himself for not taking a longer look at her when he had the chance. He regretted every moment he spent not admiring her beauty and contemplating the expressions on her face.
As the days passed, Bin Rahhal became preoccupied with helping Attar run the kingdom. Bin Rahhal's presence at the head of a military force gave Salghur and his vizier the impetus they needed to restore security to the island and reorganise its affairs.
At dawn one day, the call to prayer boomed in Bin Rahhal's ears. He had not slept all night again. He did not know why and did not care to know, but he felt that sleep escaped him when he needed it most. He thought of Halima. Her image had not left his mind for a moment, and she often appeared to him when he closed his eyes.
Bin Rahhal took a sudden decision. At sunrise, he summoned one of his guards and asked him to inform Attar that Bin Rahhal was coming to visit within a few hours to have breakfast with him. Bin Rahhal did not waste any time. He went to his private quarters, trimmed his beard and unbraided his hair, letting it flow over his shoulders; he had noticed that the Hormuzis did not wear their hair like he did. He put on the best robes he had with him, dabbed some perfume on himself and left the room.
On the way to Attar's
majlis
, Bin Rahhal was hoping Halima would be there, waiting for him. He could no longer
bear being apart from her even for a few hours, now that she haunted him constantly. His life had become more joyful ever since she took off her veil that first day. All the bloodshed he had seen and the death he had brushed against since he set foot on Hormuz was now insignificant compared to the striking beauty of her eyes. Sometimes he even wondered whether she was a human or a fairy. Whatever the case, Bin Rahhal doubted he could now live away from the woman who had stolen his heart and enthralled his mind.
As Bin Rahhal sat at Attar's
majlis
, Halima entered bringing date juice and plates of dried fruits. She was not wearing the veil this time. Bin Rahhal took a good look at her to get his fill; this could well be the last time he saw her.
âI want to congratulate you on the return of King Salghur to the throne, Master Vizier. This would not have happened were it not for your careful planning and diligent work to smuggle him out of prison,' Bin Rahhal began.
Bin Rahhal was noticeably nervous. He had no idea whether Halima was married or betrothed to another. He was not sure whether Attar would agree for her to marry him. It was a gamble: he could either ask for her hand, or he could try to forget her for the rest of his life, and regret it.
Bin Rahhal did not listen to Attar, who was thanking him for his courage and leadership. When the Hormuzi vizier paused, Bin Rahhal made his move, unsure whether this was the opportune moment or not.
âYour Excellency, might I have the honour of asking for your daughter's hand in marriage?'
Attar had not expected such a request. He was pleased that Bin Rahhal was visiting his home, for this would increase
his influence under the new king â influence that he sorely needed, having lost it with the previous monarch. Attar asked Bin Rahhal for some time to consult with Halima.
After Bin Rahhal left, Attar summoned his daughter. âBin Rahhal has asked for your hand in marriage. What do you think?'
Halima was shocked by the marriage proposal. She admired Bin Rahhal for his role in bringing things back to normal on the island. But she did not know how she should answer her father; she certainly had never considered Bin Rahhal as a husband. âI have not thought about this, Father. I don't think I could leave you and the island. No, I don't want to marry him. I don't know him.'
Attar put his hand on Halima's shoulder, trying to calm her. He thought she had answered too hastily and he did not want that. âThink about the matter carefully, Halima. Give yourself time to think. Do not rush your decisions.'
Attar would not have said this had he not known the marriage would help him manage Hormuz better. He knew King Salghur was weak-willed and that it was he who had to govern. Attar's name had been associated with Hormuz since the time of Salghur's father. He also needed a military force by his side to protect the kingdom's possessions across the western shore of the Gulf, and an alliance by marriage with a leader like Bin Rahhal would bolster his status and help consolidate his power in Hormuz and beyond.
Attar stood, placing his hand on his daughter's head. âThink about it, my child.'
He then departed, leaving Halima by herself.
Her maid Farah came, and sat in front of her examining her pale face. âI heard what your father told you. Tell me
about him, Halima. I know you better than anyone else in the world. Maybe I can help you make a decision.'
Halima gave a deep sigh. She had an almost glazed look in her eyes. âI don't know, Farah. It would be hard for me to abandon my father, the island I love and the home where I have spent all my life, and leave it all behind to go to another place where I don't know anyone and where I don't belong!'
âThat's not what I meant, Halima. Describe Bin Rahhal as you've seen him!'
âI've seen him with two different looks. Which one do you want?'
âI want the last one. That was the look he wanted you to see.'
âHe's in his mid-thirties. He has a brownish complexion, a thick moustache and a beard that he trimmed recently. This time â thank God â he did not wear any kohl! He'd also unbraided his hair â I didn't like it when it was braided â and I felt he looked more attractive than the first time I saw him.'
âHow did he address you and your father?'
âHe didn't change the way he spoke to my father, either on the first or second time. He was polite and friendly, making eye contact with the people he was addressing and replying calmly as though he had thought carefully about what he said. He was not in a hurry to talk.'
âListen to me, Halima. The decision to marry or not to marry Bin Rahhal is yours alone. All your father and I can
do is give advice, so hear me well.' Farah continued, âBin Rahhal brought armed men to the island and restored King Salghur to the throne. He will be the actual ruler on the island as long as he stays here. And yet we never heard once that he was rude to the king or your father. Rather, he came to your house politely and asked for your hand. He could have made threats to get his way, but he didn't. Think about it, Halima.'
Farah was of average beauty and slightly taller than Halima. Farah knew no one who was as close to her as Halima. Attar had bought Farah, now in her thirties, from an Indian slaver when she was less than ten years old. He raised her at his home like a daughter. From childhood, she wished to marry a merchant and start a family with him, and to have her own house. Her memories about her birthplace and family were now like a distant dream, slowly fading from her recollection, but she was still able to reach back and retrieve them from complete oblivion from time to time.
Halima thought about the matter for several days, wavering between accepting and rejecting Bin Rahhal's marriage proposal. Her temptation to refuse came from her emotions, her love for her father and her concern he would be all alone if she left. And her temptation to accept was driven by her intellect and reason and her father's judgement.
Halima eventually made up her mind. She realised that if she continued to think she would be thinking to no end; the competition between her emotions and her reason would only be settled by making a decision.
She went to her father's favourite spot on the balcony overlooking the sea. Halima lifted his feet, put them on her lap and massaged them, while giving her father a loving, caring smile. Attar gave her a look of fatherly love that always warmed her heart. âIt's nice to see you smile, Halima. I have tried not to disturb you for a few days so that I didn't influence your decision. What's making you smile today?'
Feeling a little embarrassed, she lowered her eyes.
Attar laughed mischievously and continued. âI thought you hated the Jabrids, being rough-cut Bedouins.'
Halima looked at her father's feet between her hands, trying to avoid his eyes. âI was wrong. I will agree to the marriage if you judge it to be right. I think you will agree that we will not find a better man.'
Attar knew that it was Halima's mind, not her heart, which was speaking. He felt that her consent was for political and rational reasons that had more to do with him and Hormuz. Still, Attar had become well acquainted with Bin Rahhal over the past few days and he was certain Halima would learn to love him after she got to know him better.
He put his hand on her head and caressed her before he said in a sad and quiet tone, âSo you will abandon me and leave me alone to go with him. There will be a whole sea between us!'
Halima broke into tears. She pulled her hand off his feet to wipe a tear from her cheek. She said in a quavering voice, âI wish Bin Rahhal could live with us in Hormuz, but I think that's impossible. The distance will still be short between us, Father, won't it? It must be only a two-day journey. You can come and visit us or we can visit you. And if you want me to stay with you, I will, gladly.'
Attar held her chin, lifted her face up and saw her tearful eyes. âIf you are happy then I am happy, Halima. God bless you. I will tell Bin Rahhal that I have agreed to the marriage.'
Halima stood on her feet and hugged her father tightly, in a way that suggested to him that she was happy with the decision. She then ran out of the
majlis
to where Farah was waiting, and hugged her in turn.
Farah did not let go of her mistress until she made her promise she would take her wherever she went.
âWould I ever be able to be apart from you, even for a day, Farah? You're insane if you think I could live without you!'
Farah took her mistress's hand and kissed it, tears rolling down from her eyes onto Halima's hands, before she reluctantly let go.
The marriage celebrations were held in the royal palace and attended by the dignitaries and merchants of Hormuz. The streets were lit and decorated, and sheep were slaughtered for the guests. The marriage ceremony doubled as the coronation of the new King Salghur, who sat beside Bin Rahhal to receive congratulations and blessings.
The well-wishers queued in a long line that started from the palace's outer gates and ended at the court. People wore their best garments, and erupted into dance in the space between the city and the port. Bin Rahhal's soldiers celebrated by performing a sword dance traditional in Najd, and crowds gathered around them trying to see what the men who had toppled their previous king looked like. Near them, others performed a traditional Hormuzi dance.
With nightfall, the music died down and the crowds moved to the beach to sit in small circles, enjoying the breeze. Later in the night, an owl landed on the palace wall, and hooted several times before it flew off. Halima and Bin Rahhal were experiencing the sweetest moments of their lives, forgetting that the world never tired of coming up with new evils with each sunrise.
Â
Albuquerque's journey was not easy. His armada had to weather fierce storms and violent currents as he circled the southern tip of Africa. There were mutinies on some of the ships by sailors who were petrified by the prospect of being so far from home. They were not used to sailing this deep into the mysterious, terrifying sea. They had heard stories about monsters that emerged from the ocean to claim sailors and take them to unfathomable depths, never to return, and creatures that had tentacles with which they squeezed the life out of their unsuspecting victims. The uncharted sea, the distance from Portugal, and the uncertain future made the sailors edgy and prone to rebellion.
Nothing suggested Albuquerque would be dissuaded from pressing ahead, however. His life now depended on the success of this mission. He repressed the mutineers harshly. Albuquerque ordered the ringleaders to be beheaded, and bound the rest with iron chains on the ship's deck for days under the sun, until hunger and thirst got the better of them. Albuquerque instructed his men not to assist them, and even to spit on them and insult them whenever they passed near the mutineers. He did not allow them to be unchained until one of them succumbed and died, and the rest were on the cusp of dying. This was the only way Albuquerque could prevent future rebellions.