The Ophir (2 page)

His brainwashed followers echoed the
prophet’s words, “If Nazim, may he be blessed, dictates that it is
so, who are we to argue the rights Allah has blessed us with?”

* * * *

Akilah was an intelligent woman with great
reasoning skills. She learned the skills of midwifery and a variety
of herbal remedies to treat many of the common illnesses of the
day. She picked up the information with astonishing speed; she
added some of her own remedies to the process. Akim, her slave,
teacher and surrogate mother, admired her mistress’s intrepidness;
she loved Akilah as her own.

“Akim, what should I use to discover if a
woman is with child?”

“Place barley seeds and emmer in a small
bowl. Add the woman’s urine to the mixture.” It was universal
knowledge at that time that if the seeds sprouted, the woman was
pregnant. It was a fairly accurate test.

“How can I predict if it is male or
female?”

“If the barley sprouts first the child will
be male; if the emmer grows first the child will be female.
However, you should avoid predicting if possible.”

“Why?”

“I have found that it could go either way,
regardless of which sprouts first.”

“But, what should I say if they ask?”

“Tell them that Jehovah has blessed them with
family. They should accept our Father’s decisions without question.
Besides they will not love them less once here.”

Akim passed on knowledge handed down to her
from her mother and her mother’s mother.

“The thing to remember is that we are still
few in number. While it is important to know if a woman can
conceive, it is even more important to know if she is
pregnant.”

“Why?”

“Why. Again with the ‘why’. I’ll tell you
why, but then you must stop asking questions for a time. Are we
agreed?”

“Yes.”

Nazim would test Akilah’s dedication to her
chosen field. His questions were meant to put her at ease and
remove any apprehension, but they were not needed. Knowledge and
appreciation of the midwife’s nurturing nature made her a much
sought after practitioner of healing arts. When summoned by Nazim’s
major domo, Habib, Akilah went without fear and completely
unprepared for what awaited her.

* * * *

“Mistress, my master, Kadar Nazim, the Right
hand of God and powerful prophet, has asked that you come to his
tent. He is in need of your services.” Everyone knew that Nazim’s
second wife, Sabr, was pregnant. He had taken her as his wife when
she was six years old. The marriage was consummated when she
reached puberty. He had re-named her Sabr due to the traits she
displayed of patience and self-control, even as a child. He trusted
Sabr explicitly. She was free to come and go as she pleased. Akilah
assumed that it was Sabr that needed her services.

“Akim, bring me my cloak and send word to the
stable for my wagon. I will gather my supplies.” Directing her next
question to the guide, she asked,

“Do you know the nature of the problem? I ask
only so that I can gather the appropriate tools and remedies.”

“No, please accept my apology. I am not
privileged to personal information. But, please hurry. My master
waits.”

Not knowing what she faced, Akilah rehearsed
spells and incantations to make the mother-to-be feel secure. The
benefit was psychological, not medical. It also helped Akilah gain
composure. She felt honored to be summoned by the great Nazim.

It was almost dusk. Desert nights were cold.
Akilah grabbed her cape, placed it over her shoulders and pulled
the strings on the hood to tighten over her shining mane. Thick
black curls spilled from the sides framing the face of the
beautiful dark skinned Nubian. At the age of seventeen, her
confidence and demeanor were worthy of a queen.

“I will guide you to his tent. Once there, in
his presence, keep your eyes averted and head bowed until he gives
you leave to do otherwise. Understand?” Akilah hesitated only a
second as she placed her equipment and supplies in her commoner’s
chariot. Once ensconced, she turned to Habib to give her
response.

“Sir, I can assure you, I need no lesson on
protocol. At the very least, I know to be respectful to all,
regardless of station. But I thank you for your concern.” Akilah
stood tall; she let the sting burn a little hotter by staring
directly into the eyes of Nazim’s trusted servant. With a crack of
the whip the horse went into an easy trot.

* * * *

Akilah stayed low before Nazim, eyes averted.
Nazim examined Akilah as he walked around the woman. Even in
supplication, her shoulders were squared and proud. Her back was
straight and strong; her hands were soft, the hands of a physician,
and a person of stature. He was fascinated by the tempting curls
hiding the curve of her cheek and shape of her brow.

This uncommon man almost gasped like a
schoolboy when he placed a hand under Akilah’s chin and raised her
head to look into her eyes. They were violet. Against her
unblemished, smooth, black skin they seemed to glow with a natural
radiance and unexpected defiance. He fought to keep his distance,
his control.

“Please, come ... make yourself comfortable.”
He pointed to the plush pillows scattered on the floor rug around
the small fire pit. May I offer you something to drink? Some wine
perhaps?” He clapped his hands to summon Habib, who stood just
outside his tent. He thought to soften her by treating her more
like an equal.

“No, thank you. I understand you have need of
my services. I brought my equipment and supplies. Where is the
patient?” Nazim waved Habib away.

“In a moment. I have questions.”

“I humbly suggest that I see the patient
first. I can answer your questions later. Is this not an urgent
matter?”

“Urgent? No, no, no. Important yes, but not
urgent.”

“If a woman believes her time is near, how
would you induce a recalcitrant child to leave the safety of the
womb?”

“I would place plaster of sea salt, emmer
wheat, and rushes from the Nile on the woman’s abdomen.”

“How would you cause contraction?”

“To expel the child, Kheperwer plant, honey,
water of carob and milk as a poultice should be inserted into the
birth canal.”

“You have great knowledge for one so young. I
can tell you must have had personal experience too. You have the
hips and bosom of a blessed woman. Come closer.” Akilah continued
to stand still but was slightly confused by his personal comments.
It kept her from moving closer.

“May I see the patient now?”

“In a moment. And since you will not come to
Nazim, Nazim will come to you.” He stepped forward and forced her
into an embrace. She struggled and pushed against him. The more she
struggled, the more aroused and determined he became to make her
submit. He was stocky and strong. His strength left bruises on her
arms and around her neck.

“Why do you fight? You dare deny me?” He
slapped her hard across the face. When she fell he kicked her ribs
with such force that he could hear the snap. Akilah doubled in pain
and fought for air, but the smallest rib had punctured her lung.
She stopped struggling; nausea overwhelmed her. Her head was
swimming in a sea of pain. Even so, Nazim forced himself upon her,
defiling her body with his seed.

“See, it wasn’t so bad, was it?” Oblivious to
his crime, Nazim begged her to stay with him and be his concubine,
but she glared at him with hatred that would not be denied. He
tried to seduce her with visions of wealth, but she could not hear
him. He exhorted her with threats of death to her family and
household. She spat at him. He attacked her thrice more. Exhausted,
he called his guard to drag her out of his sight.

His arrogance led him to believe that nothing
would come of this. In his camp, women, with the possible exception
of his wives, were chattel without rights. The next day as he gave
orders to break camp, the only visible sign of the night’s
activities on Nazim were bruised, swollen, knuckles.

“Prepare for traveling a long distance. We go
to the mountains to see and old friend of mine.”

“Yes, Master”. His servant gave the orders
and they mounted a campaign toward the secret hold of Sabah, Prince
of Assassins.

Never exposed to such cruelty before, Akilah
vowed no one would ever know her shame. No one would ever be given
the opportunity to degrade her or humiliate her husband with such
intimate knowledge. No one had that right. She would die before
that could happen.

Chapter
Two

The slave, Akim, knew something was wrong the
minute that her mistress walked into the room. She helped Akilah
out of her robes and cried out at the sight of bruises on her
slender body. The blood running down her thighs was too heavy to be
from the raping alone. Akim looked at the young woman she thought
of as her own child; she fought the tears welling. She prepared the
tub with warm scented water and helped Akilah ease into the warm
liquid.

“You were with child?”

“Yes,” she sobbed into her hands.

This would have been her third child. She’d
had high hopes that this one would survive and become the daughter
that would learn her craft and take care of her when Akilah became
too feeble to care for herself.

“Akim, I wish to be alone.”

“It would be best not be alone at this time.
Let me stay with you.”

“Akim...”

“Yes, yes, of course. I will be in the garden
outside your door. Call when you are ready.” But, Akilah never
called.

* * * *

When Joseph Ben Abin came home from his
mission two days later, he was met by Akim. She prostrated herself
before him.

“Forgive me. I am to blame. Take this knife
with which to cut my throat for having allowed this crime to take
place. I beg you, take my unworthy life.” Joseph’s tunic brushed
the top of her head as he moved past her into the house, all senses
on alert.

In sorrow, guilt and shame, she took the
knife and plunged it into her own side.

“May Isis forgive me. I cannot forgive myself
and gladly go into the waiting arms of Osiris.” Akim, having failed
to protect her mistress, believed she did not deserve an
afterlife.

Joseph turned at the sound of her words, but
it was too late. He too had loved Akim like a mother. He picked the
slave’s body up and carried her to her bed. Overcome with grief, he
cried aloud for his wife.

“Akilah ... Akilah ... What manner of Hell
has been visited upon me and mine? Akilah, answer me.” But Akilah
did not answer. I followed as he searched the house.

In a grief struck rage, he went to their
rooms; there he found her. She was surrounded by mourners. He lost
his senses and screamed his pain to the heavens.

Pushing the women aside, he stepped in closer
to the wrapped form on the dais. Its mummified shape was familiar,
but he couldn’t make his mind calm enough to accept what his heart
was telling him. There was no logic to the scene before him. No one
could answer his questions; he didn’t know what questions to pose.
He choked on his words.

“Oh, my love, would that I could have been
here to hold you, to stop this mean thing from happening.” He
reached out with one hand and touched her head, then traced her
face with his finger. He removed the unsealed mask from his wife’s
face, leaned down and kissed Akilah’s cold lips tenderly before
replacing it in preparation for burial. He whispered in sorrow,
“You’ve been taken from me, and I don’t even know why.”

I heard him force the strangled words from
his lips. “My life for yours. I would give my life for yours. Am I
to blame for this?” He looked at me, but I knew it wasn’t me he
asked.

“Was I gone so long? Yes, yes. I was gone too
long. Had I been here, this would never have happened. The Gods are
cruel.” I stood behind and to his side should he need my
assistance. I wrestled with my own emotions as I watched tears wash
down his tanned skin.

“Would that I’d never met you, than have you
leave me in such a foul manner. I will join you, my love. This is
no life if it is without you. But, first I must know the truth of
it. Someone must know the truth of it.” My master paced the floor
in conversation with himself as he tried to decide on his next
move.

“If you have been felled by the hand of man,
man will pay for this. I swear it! If fault cannot be found, then
the fates are too cruel for someone as simple as I, and I would beg
them take my life too.” He turned to face the women who paid
homage.

“Thank you for taking care of her. Now leave
me in my sorrow. Leave me that I may grieve in solitude. Ahkmed,
please escort these ladies to the door. I will speak to you of this
later. Arrangements must be made. Now go. Suffer no one to intrude
in this solitude for I am in no state to indulge others.” In
respect for his grief, I bowed low and moved backward from my
master’s presence.

* * * *

Many hours later, Joseph left his mourning.
When he walked into Akim’s quarters, she slid off her cot to the
floor, and in a rasping voice she begged for forgiveness and mercy.
Her body was racked with sobs; she couldn’t control the shaking of
her limbs. Blood seeped from her side leaving her cold to the
touch. Joseph did not have to ask any of the questions running
through his head. Akim told him everything.

“God forgive us. We didn’t know. We never
suspected. She answered a call of service, as she always does. She
wanted to help. May the gods forgive us. We didn’t know.”

“Akim, I know it was not your fault. You
carry no blame and are as innocent as my wife. Who made the call?
Who would use service in such a malicious manner? Tell me, Akim, I
must know. I swear to you I will exact revenge for you both.”