- ARCHIVE - Sultanate Court of the Zayyanid Caliphate [Algeria]

[Mettermrck]

Banquet Hall, Sultan's Palace

Tomas felt the weight of the scimitar gently touch his shoulder, and he felt a shudder through him as the gravity of the moment hit him. An ambassador kneeling in homage before a Zayyanid Sultan. Indeed, he was taking an irrevocable step. He took a deep breath, listening to the Sultan's words with relief, glad that he was being taken seriously. Trying to look appropriately humble, he nodded to the Sultan. "Yes, Your Excellency, I can read in your language as well as speak, thanks to my Sharif here, Hasan. And the diligence of the Amira." He flashed a brief glance at Yasmine before turning back to the Sultan.

As he was waiting to see what would happen next, he heard the Venetian envoy speaking to the Sultan, which seemed quite a presumption, particularly in the middle of the ceremony they were involved in. Tomas tried not to wince, wondering how Akbe Mohammed would react.

 

[unmerged(17500)]

Mario turning to see her, paused and then took the glass and spoke gently.

My lady Livia, of course however I can only take this glass, if...well if I could be honored by your presence. These festivities would be truly enchanting if I could converse with you for a while. A man would be lucky to be in the company of such grace.​

 

[Blade!]

Livia handed a glass to Mario and pulled her own glass to her lips as she nodded her head demurely, and quietly murmered.

"Of course."

Kadija glared at them from across the table, before leaning in to hear the quality of Tomas's Arabic. Kadija, while she was fluent in Arabic and used it regularly, still considered it foreign and not nearly as lovley as her native Berber. Still, it impressed her, and wondered how many of the rumors that the Tlemscen ladies uttered were true.

"Yes, Your Excellency, I can read in your language as well as speak, thanks to my Sharif here, Hasan. And the diligence of the Amira."

"Your pupil is an apt teacher then... I am not unimpressed. I only hope that at a later date your commitments do not become conflicting."

The Sultan raised his blade from Tomas's right shoulder and placed it on his left.

"I vest thee with the lands and titles consumate with the Cordoba Emirate, as Naib and regent, bound to House Zayyanid.

Who of the House will speak for his vestment?"

Tomas heard Yasmine rise behind him, and then her shadow fell on the floor in front of him as her hand came to rest on his shoulder next to the blade's edge.

"I do. Through his education, service, and protection of Halud Hasan, Naib of Zenata Tribe, and under the protection of House Zayyanid; through his service to the Almohid Empire in reintegrating the regional economy; and his personal word of honor as an Almohid Noble of Badajoz to me; I see him as a worthy defender of both Cordoba, the Almohid Empire, and the House Zayyanid."

The Amira's hand squeezed Tomas's shoulder, and then moved to hold the blade.

Halud Hasan also appraoched and stood quietly to the side of Tomas, until the Sultan looked at him.

"Would the Naib Halud Hasan, squire of Tomas also wish to confirm and pledge?"

Halud, uncharacteristicly nodded his head solemnly and quietly, and placed one hand on Tomas's right shoulder, and his other joined the Amira's hand on the blade.

The Sultan nodded and all together they raised the blade and began to move it towards Tomas's neck.

"Do you accept these pledges with honor and your life?"

 

[unmerged(17500)]

Mario looking on the festivities was quite perplexed. He looked to Livia for consolation, and warmth.

Livia....

*pausing slightly and then lightening his tone*

Oh wonderful Livia, please what can you tell me of this "ceremony"? Isn't that man Portugese? So peculiar... He must be a truly great man to be honored in such a way. What can you tell me about him? His purpose here, his achievements and his nature? Friendly...?

*pausing again realizing that he might have disturbed the delicate flower*

Oh I'm sorry to bombard so many questions on such grace. Please excuse my inquisitive nature.​

 

[Mettermrck]

Banquet Hall, Sultan's Palace

Tomas felt the heightened tension in the room as all quieted to listen to the Sultan perform the ceremony. The phrase 'commitments do not become conflicting' remained in the back of his mind as he listened. One day there would likely be a reckoning, and he would have to choose...or at least confirm that choice as far as his homeland concerned. As he felt Yasmine stand next to him, and shuddered at the thrill of having her hand squeeze his shoulder, he knew that his choice was already written.

He listened as Hasan approached and placed his hand on his other shoulder. It was a remarkable feeling, the two of them having come a long way together, since the journey to Lisbon and then their adventures on the high seas...adventures which would likely come again soon. Hasan was still very young, though he would soon become a man very soon.

Tomas felt the blade switch shoulders, and his breath caught, his eyes glancing back up at the Sultan. This was it. He felt the blade move up towards his neck. It was a symbol of how serious this ceremony was, and if he had had any illusions about how real this choice of his was, they were dispelled now. He nodded somberly. "To Your Excellency, To Her Radiance, To His Honor the Sharif, and to your House and Caliphate, I pledge my honor and my loyalty." He leaned his head downward until was facing the ground, and muttered a silent prayer. And for the first time in his life, he was unsure as to which God he was praying to.

 

[Blade!]

"...Oh I'm sorry to bombard so many questions on such grace. Please excuse my inquisitive nature."

Livia smiled and placed a finger on her lips and then held it up to indicate she would answer in a moment. She turned her head, nodded at Kadija and watched the scimitar at Tomas's neck.

"To Your Excellency, To Her Radiance, To His Honor the Sharif, and to your House and Caliphate, I pledge my honor and my loyalty."

The Sultan nodded his head grimly in acceptance, and placed his second hand on the great scimitar's hilt. Halud and Yasmine brought the tip of the blade to Tomas's neck and pressed it into the flesh, its razor sharp edge breaking the skin.

"This tradition stems from before the coming of civilization, before Carthage... a Berber way...

For Honor..."

As blood welled in the cut and flowed onto the blade, the Sultan withdrew the blade and slid it across Tomas's right cheek smearing blood across it.

"For Duty..."

The blade moved with the Sultan's steady grasp to Tomas's other cheek, smearing it likewise.

"For Love of the family."

The tip of the scimitar was then applied the center of Tomas's forehead, and forcefully but quickly was drawn down leaving a shallow welling of blood.

The Sultan than lifted the sword and applied its tip to first Halud and then Yasmine's foreheads, painting a line of blood. Tomas would realize that it was the same mark Yasmine had been wearing the day of the executions in the Wind Room.

"I welcome your service on behalf of the House Zayyanid and the people of Cordoba."

The Sultan handed his sword off to its bearer, and raised Tomas by the shoulders, and forcefully kissed him on both cheeks smearing his own lips with blood. Looking to the side, he forced Tomas back down slightly so Halud could do the same. Yasmine then placed her hand on his shoulder and gently turned him.

A silken cloth in her hand, she tied it around his cut neck before drawing his face towards her, gently kissing each cheek, lingering and staining her lips red with the remainder of the painted blood. She stepped back and looked into his eyes smiling before handing him off to a line of Naibs, Sheiks and Sharifs, as well as several women who did likewise.

As Tomas was being passed down the line, Livia turned back to Mario. She sipped her wine and began to explain.

"The man is Portuguese, in fact he is the envoy from Portugal. His full title and name is Viscount Tomas Lopes de Castello Branco, and from what I gather his family has extensive holdings. I have seen this ceremony once before when Azim Hasan... that little boy's uncle, was appointed Sharif of Oran. It is Berber and Pagan in origin, they are 'entitling' Sir Tomas a fief. Now, I will elaborate that the fief is currently in the middle of Castelleon holdings... the Zayyanids and their Almohid dream is most interesting, while they would regard my people and yours as the barly civilized of barbarian tribes, they hold onto a view of hope for the people in Iberia, or as they call it Al-Andalus; you might note they will refer to Tomas as from 'Badajoz' from an Emirate that was once controling those lands, ruling from the city of Badajoz, now also in Castile.... As I understand it, the Viscount has squired the boy, a court favorite, and rescued him from pirates as well."

Her gaze went back to the line of people passing Tomas along. He had traveled around the main table and was approaching Kajol and Kadija who had come and stood behind Mario and Livia, next to the Sultan.

Tomas was passed into Kajol's presence and she formally and coldly brushed her lips quickly across each cheek, as she withdrew her eye revealed a hint of sparkle, and a slight smile on her lips. Many of the kisses Tomas had recieved were warm and heavy, some were distinctly a matter of protocol, cold and slight. Kajol carried his arm to Kadija, the last in line before he returned to the Sultan.

Kadija did not smile, but looked into his eyes as she grabbed his wrist. Her grip was surprisingly strong and she squeezed with a great deal of force as her black lined eyes looked on seriously. She kissed his left cheek firmly, and then his right where she hesitated and spoke.

"You are one with the tribe, our destiny is yours, and you are indivisable from the throne. All eyes will be on you, and our honor carried by you."

She released her viselike grip only after stepping back and bowing to the Sultan.

"Tomas, you are a Naib, a member of the Ashraf class, and vested with the authority over the people of Cordoba as a representative of the Almohid Throne. Is there any boon you would ask on this night?"

Yasmine looked at Tomas from over her brother's shoulder, her face serious, and nodding her head, urging him to volunteer.

 

[Mettermrck]

Banquet Hall, Sultan's Palace

A year ago, Tomas would've called the ceremony barbaric, the shedding of blood and its smearing on forehead and cheeks. It was not the Christian way of showing fealty and commitment. Yet now Tomas regarded with open acceptance, fascinated at how intimate the whole ritual was. His blood was literally being shared with all of those in the room, and the holding of hands and the kisses demonstrating just how close knit the nobles were in Tlemcen. And it reinforced the seriousness of his position now. This was no idle enhancement of power. He was part of something.

The kisses from Yasmine were naturally sensual and he tried to suppress his wide grin at how pleasing they were. The idea that his blood now belonged to Yasmine pleased him greatly, and he felt even more closer to her. As he went around the room, he encountered many of the faces in the room, no doubt many of them eyeing him with appraisal and curiosity. Kajol was thankfully formal with him, something he had been fearing, though her eyes and smile betrayed her own coy pleasure at the moment.

It was Kadija that surprised him, at the fierceness of her response. He did not know her very well, but there was a seriousness in her eyes, as if she wanted to communicate to him just how meaningful his commitment to Tlemcen was now, that it was not a passing moment...Tomas was bound now. And she certainly succeeded in this as he turned back to the Sultan.

When Akbe Mohammed asked of him his boon, he saw Yasmine smiling encouragingly at him and he took a deep breath. "Your Excellency, one month ago you called for a champion to sweep the seas of insidious pirates and to advance your flag on the oceans. I ask now the chance to prove my loyalty and service by serving as your captain in this venture."

 

[Blade!]

The Sultan was surprised and shocked by Tomas's request. His mind began to churn with the reasons behind it, 'was he more ambitious, looking for an Amirship with actual holdings. Or was someone... Yasmine putting him up to it? In any case, this may be an opportunity...'

"Ah, well we shall see... now is a good time as any, please sit."

*The Sultan spread his arms and looked out on the hall*

"As we know from the accounts of the new Naib of Cordoba, and my issues of edict to the Emir of Morocco... the Chiriya Islands are being badly mismanaged... pirates and barbarians crawling upon them, using them for illicit activities.

The Emir of Morocco has been lax in his duties, and so I have called for a champion to civilize this extremity of the Almohid domain. A task that will require patience, planning, and leadership in combay... most likely, as these pirates most likely will not listen to reason.

Surprisingly, Naib Tomas-i-Cordoba, has already jumped forth... and as I think, it is a worthy test, and fitting of his skills... knowledge of ships, first hand knowledge, and a man with a worthy sword. Additionaly, I do beleive his squire wished to further his education in the matter of the navy."

The Sultan and the audiance chuckled as a large dessert platter was placed in front of Halud, who had retaken his place between the Amira and the Naib of Cordoba. Upon it were fermented figs shaped in the structure of a boat.

"To this task, which I shall put under the office of the Amira, I shall be commiting the entire fleet... when needed, as well as throne support and arms... seeing as Cordoba is late on it taxes to its Naib. The province of Oran will also produce men and women hardy enough to build a new life, including jewish and moorish refugees of Grenada."

The Sultan grinned again, though many in the audiance did not.

"Tomas, can you lead these men and women, to clear the Empire of banditry and inefficent usage?"

 

[Mettermrck]

Banquet Hall, Sultan's Palace

If there was one thing Tomas was confident of, it was his ability to sweep the pirates from the seas. A successful visit to Portugal could accomplish most of the work, and then he and Hasan could follow up with the Tlemcen fleet to handle anything else. While Tomas wasn't a great sailor like some, he still had the natural Portuguese love for the sea, and the humility a leader needs to rely on those who do have the knowledge.

As the Sultan spoke, his features cleared and he grew calm and confident, as if the Akbe Mohammed had simply made the most obvious choice there was. Yet he did not wish to antagonize his new brethren, so he kept himself as humble-looking as possible when the Sultan asked his question. "Yes, Your Excellency, I will do this. The pirates tremble at my approach." Tomas said this without blinking, and without a hint of boasting.

 

[Hamilcar]

Caliph Election

Let us leave then. I think that we should make for Palestine first so that we may find guidance there in the al-Aqsa mosque. May Allah lead us.

 

[Blade!]

"Very good then."

The Sultan surveyed Tomas's confident look, and in his mind he was pleased. He had always trusted his sister's judgement when it came to affairs of state, and this man seemed well suited for both the task and the just granted title. 'I personally will have to hear what the palace spies have collected about him.'

"I would like you to meet these two men..."

Two men stepped forward in fine robes, the one on the right being swarthy, clean shaven, and Iberian in appearance, and the one on the left being darker with a finely trimmed beard distinctly Arab looking, much moreso than most of the Berber mixed nobles... it was to him the Sultan pointed to first.

"This is Abdul Sayed, Malik of the 1rst Regiment of the 1rst Army of the Zayyanid Sultanate. You may not know, but the House Zayyanid currently maintains two armies, the 1rst which is dedicated to the defense and unification of the Almohid provences as well as being the Algerian provencial army, and the 2nd which is made up primarily of Andalusian refugees and defends and reclaims land for all of Dar-es-Islam... they were insturmental in Thrace, where I commanded them. The 1rst Army will be your primary support element when needing to draw ship to ship fighters, as well as landing parties, and settlement forts.

This second fine gentleman is actually of Badajozian decent, Lalan ibn Oporto, Admiral of my fleet and a most gracious and refined gentleman... he has been on the Hajj no less than six times. He is eagar to work with you on this major naval undertaking. Also... I would like to introduce the small man behind them."

A man of average stature, though who appeared small next to the tall military officers in front of him, came forward. He wore a jewish cap, and his sideburns hung lengthily past his beard.

"Doctor Jakob Gurion, a leader in the refugee Jewish community, and uncle to our own Lady Rebekka. He has rounded up much funding for this, and will be leading many of the Andalusian jews, christians, and moslems, as well as Oranian Berbers to the Chiryas as you deem the time and locations proper. He is also a skilled physician.

Now... let us feast!"

 

[Mettermrck]

Banquet Hall, Sultan's Palace

Tomas surveyed Abdul Sayed with interest...this was clearly a soldier, and a man who knew his business when it came to warfare. He nodded, making a mental note to consult with him before taking any steps with forces on the land. The title was impressive enough, and the world 'Malik'...where had he heard that before? Then it came to him. That pillar in the Amira's wing...Kajol...Malika. His eyes narrowed and flickered to her briefly, before turning back to Sayed. "I am honored, milord Sayed."

His eyes widened when he was introduced to ibn Oporto. He smiled warmly and bowed. "Oporto? It's been sometime since I've visited that port. Who better to command a fleet than a Badajozian? The honor is mine, milord." He felt much better about the campaign knowing who was commanding his fleet.

Doctor Gurion was an intruging man to meet. Tomas had known little about the Jewish conversos in Portugal, and the Moor community as well. His first real encounter, indeed, had been the help he and Hasan had received so long ago, in Lagos. This first impression helped him feel kindly towards the man, whose sharp eyes betrayed a remarkable intellect. He, no doubt, would be useful in many respects. "A pleasure, Doctor Gurion."

He turned to regard all three. "Well, then. Though I may be in charge of this campaign, I will not be above deferring to your experience or your advice. This is about the Sultanate, not my personal glory." Not quite true, but Tomas knew he couldn't say that. "I would like to meet tomorrow at midday, perhaps in one of the smaller banquet halls? You gentlemen can pick, as my knowledge of the palace is poorer than yours. We will begin this campaign as quickly as possibly. I bid you good evening."

He nodded and walked back to his original seat, next to Yasmine. Tomas wasn't sure if he should leave the bloodstains on his cheeks, and chose not to say anything about it as he sat next to her. It felt good to have overcome the Sultan's doubts, and now at last he was well on his way. He turned to her with a smile. "I owe you much, Your Radiance. My performance will not displease you." And he nodded with a dose of affection and humility.

 

[Blade!]

As Tomas turned to Yasmine and spoke, he found Kajol now sitting on her other side and grinning like a cheshire cat(1), but saying nothing, as Yasmine looked at him warmly. Tomas's blood no longer graced the length of her forehead, only a small coagulation remaining.

"Why I am pleased indeed Tomas... it was almost as if you had a Djinn in your ear whispering to you the right things to say! Those three men were treated most appropriatly and it looks as if they were satisfied with their first take of you. Though... I must mention that any one of those men weilds a great deal of influence."

Yasmine's hand drifted near Tomas's, brushing it, and taking a pear froma bowl of fruit before drawing her hand over his again.

"I hope you will come to see me tommorow after your meeting... I look forward to hearing about your long-term strategy."

*Yasmine chomped into the juicy pear.*



OOC: 1- Yes, I know that Alice Through the Looking Glass has not yet been written at this time.

 

[Mettermrck]

Banquet Hall, Sultan's Palace

This was precisely where Tomas wanted to be - next to Yasmine, in her service, and having her pleased with him. He could not help flushing with almost a boyish pride at her words, and fluttered when he felt her hand brush is. He was living a dream, or at least the promise of one. It was as if the fates were giving him a small taste on what was possible...if he didn't screw up, if he remained loyal, and if nothing went horribly wrong. Being near Yasmine only reinforced his commitment to the coming campaign.

"I thank you, Your Radiance. There is confidence and there is overconfidence. Even the most able should not be opposed to new learning...as I am realizing more and more of late." He inclined his head to her, trying not to notice the obvious grin he was getting from Kajol across the table.

With his free hand, he imitated Yasmine's example and took a pear from the bowl. What was good enough for her, he thought. The feel of her hand on his was exquisite, and it was all he could not not to take it and squeeze, an obvious gesture that could lead to many uncomfortable questions. For now, he enjoyed the electric touch of the Amira, the woman he desired...and now served. "I will be there as soon as the meeting concludes, and I'll inform you of what our initial plans are."

 

[Blade!]

"Faith has its rewards Tomas... the surendering of one's will, lead to paradise."

At that moment, Yasmine was interupted as a serving girl whispered somthing in her ear. She rose and smiled down at Tomas.

"I will speak more with you on the morrow, Naib of Cordoba. There is buisness which I must attend to."

As she departed, Kajol shifted her view to the table and her meal. As Tomas sat at the table, several palace children gawked at him, and occaisonally one of the nobels would step by and acknowledge his entitlement. Most of these were Arabs, or appeared to be so, one was a black man in a fine robe though, and at least two seemed fairer than Tomas himself. He also caught several glares from across the room, and the sneers of a few veiled women.

 

[Mettermrck]

Banquet's Hall, Sultan's Palace

Tomas remained at the feast for a little while longer after Yasmine's departure, feeling her absence but not wishing to show bad form by leaving so soon after her. He enjoyed some of the flavorful delicacies, and attempted to listen in on some of the conversation. Yet it bored him, and the talking between Livia and Mario was uninteresting. So, with a nod to Hasan, he bowed to the Sultan and begged his leave, trying to ignore Kajol's stares as he left the room.

He walked back to his guest quarters, Hasan in tow, and figured he would settle in for the night. Arriving, he sat in one of his chairs and tried to read, hoping it would tire him and he could go to sleep. But it did not have the desired effect. There were too many things on his mind, too many questions.Looking at Hasan, he grinned and beckoned towards the door.

"If I tried to leave, you'd follow, Sharif Hasan. So let's assume I'm leaving and you're following. Only don't follow so close...I wish to have some time alone." Tomas walked out of his quarters, not sure where he wished to go. The palace at night was a beautiful sight. The outside moonlight shimmered and was reflected through the corridors so that in some places, a dim blue and gray could be seen. In other corridors, torches burned, giving an eerie comforting glow.

There were few others about, though occasionally Tomas would encounter a stiff looking guard or eunuch, the sight of which would intimidate him into changing direction. Naib or not, he was still very much the foreigner in this palace. After a brief time, he arrived at a small balcony from which he observe Tlemcen in moonlit splendor. It was an exotic sight, and excited him. From here he could just see down the side of the palace towards the direction of the Amira's wing - that forbidden wing. He sighed and leaned over the railing, looking down at the citadel walls.

 

[Hamilcar]

Tlemcen, al-Jazir
The Prince Kaidu is sent as envoy
2:23pm, Thursday 26 SHawwal 848 A.H.


Prince Kaidu reached Tlemcen almost two months after the dramatic encounter with his father. Yesugai clearly did not wish for any rival to build a base of support anywhere near him and so sent him as far away as he could. The promised grants of land and income did materialize but turned out to be essentially worthless: he was lord over a few dozen acres of arid land inhabited by goatherds; his titles did not give him much privileges at court and in any case, no nobleman or high courtier would even see him for fear of siding with a potential rival of the aga Khan. With him, the Office of Office of Foreign Correspondence and Trade has sent two scribes who were undoubtedly spying on him.

As far away as possible from you, father. Do you fear me so much? You do not know my soul – I should be a most loyal son to you if only you would allow me.

Without great haste, he made his way to make his embassy with a primitive called Akbe Mohammad. Little did he care for the zealous religious sentiments of what he had come to know as Muslims, though he learned rapidly that a few ‘praise be to Allah’ or ‘by the prophet’s beard’ kept him out of trouble.

With weary steps, he walked into the hall of the Sultan, bowed stiffly and spoke:

I am Prince Kaidu, son of Yesugai aga Khan of Samarkand, descendant of Jingiz the Conqueror and I have been charged by my most wise father to proceed to Your Illustrious Court without delay to submit his compliments and to act as the eye and voice of the great aga Khan in your lands.

I humbly submit to your judgement.

 

[Blade!]

Banquet Hall, Tlemscen

As Tomas left the hall, the banquet roared on with additional courses being brought in. Just as the gazelle's stomach stuffed with walnuts was being brought in, Prince Kaidu of the Timurids presented himself.

The Sultan stood and with a smile on his face he welcomed the exotic looking man.

"Prince Kaidu, welcome to my Citadel and to the Zayyanid Caliphate! Please come and sit by my side as a guest of honor... here, between the Venetian and myself."

The Sultan waved the Prince in his direction, and sent the Timurid scribes to a lesser table by way of a serving wench's hand.

"Yes, yes... sit, eat! Your journey has been long... and your appearance foreign.. truly you are far from home. Please ask if anything can make you more comfortable... quarters appropriate for your presence will be made available for your usage. Mirza Mohammad-Reza has written me often from your father's court... he was most impressed with your horsemen. Tell me, did you participate int he campaign against the Uzbeks? Will your father march against the Liths?"

It was evident that the Sultan was pleased to have such a long traveled visitor and a new face in Tlemscen, and he roared for food and drink to be brought for the Prince.



Moonlit Balcony, Tlemscen

As Tomas leaned on the terrace of the balcony, the night sky enveloped him. Excepting the star and moonlight, the only lights in Tlemscen were from the firelight coming from the windows of the hall far below.

At the top of the Amira's wing, the dark form of the wind chamber stood black against the night, its vague form like a skeletal hand extending into the air. Far below in the bulk and heart of the Amira's wing, the Zenana, where women and eunuchs only went except by invitation, light glowed throughout the length of the structure.

It was this sight Tomas was looking at when he heard the sound of steel being drawn quietly. Ten feet behind Tomas, at the entrance to the balcony three forms stood in the shadows.

 

[Mettermrck]

Balcony, Sultan's Palace

Tomas was enjoying the view of the palace, and the glimpses of the Amira's wing, when he thought he heard something behind him, and then the unmistakable noise of steel. With his hand on the hilt of his Berber dagger, he turned swiftly, ready to draw and confront whomever was behind. He only hoped Hasan was nearby.

 

[Blade!]

Balcony, Sultan's Palace

The men, as their voices revealed, spoke in Arabic and did not sound friendly as they drew short blades.

"Enjoying a lecherous view of what you cannot have, you foreign son of a pagan whore who was used by a donkey?

Striding about Tlemscen as if you were equal to a man who has been to Mecca, faithful all of his life, and worthy of the women of Tlemscen!"

*The man spit in the dark, and his missle landed somewhere near Tomas's feet*

"We've seen your sinful presence near that mad disgraceful sister of the Sultan... she may be crazed but she is still a Muslim woman, better each of us bed her in turn than you touch her, or that you even be here in Tlemscen... as if you have any of the heritage of old Badajoz... these Berbers are soft."

*The man spat again and the three men began to advance*