The Desert Falcon

Chapter 3, The Setting Sun

Nasrin looked at me, her doe-like, hazel eyes growing wide, before a moment of disbelief emerged. "You are jesting."

"I am not and even if I was, the jest is in poor taste and unlikely to be funny," I explained, as we accompanied each other into the bazaar.  "Or you have a rather bizarre sense of humor," I questioned her.

"My sense of humor is immaculate," Nasrin exclaimed. 

The two of us examined the wares, as we went from stall to stall. Silks to satins to burlap in all sorts of colors and patterns were displayed, the artisans' work of intricate designs outlined. Spices ranging from cinnamon, to cumin, to chili, to paprika, thyme, rosemary, and tumeric tickled our noses, beckoning to us with promises of a hearty addition to a delicious evening meal. The smell of enticing meats of goat, beef, chicken and lamb and vegetables drifted in the air, wetting our appetites. Another stall sold eggs, pastries, and sweets and yet another, sold dates, mangoes and other exotic fruits. Of course, it came as no surprise that such stalls were inundated with buyers, as they eagerly bargained for the best cut, whilst navigating their way to the front in an effort to examine their offerings.

In another stall, a merchant sold jewelry that sparkled under the gleaming sun and fresh fruit and grain that drew our attention. Another stall sold vases and plates, while another sold furniture, rugs, and other exotic wares sourced from another part of the world entirely.

Emir Saeed had granted me several days respite as a reward for pleasing the Sultan. Not once in all of Emir Saeed's employment had the Sultan visited his household. Now, word had spread that his home had been graced by the Sultan, prompting a new elevation in their status. I knew they were receiving invitations and Emir Saeed had deduced that it was I, who had precipitated such an impression.

Emir Saeed did not question me on the nature of my first encounter with the Sultan nor what had occurred on our ride. He did not wish to ruin his good luck and he assumed the less he knew the better. His lack of inquiry was a welcome blessing of relief, for I was too mortified to explain my sudden association with the Sultan. I would certainly look the fool if his particular interest turned out to be a passing of sheer boredom before he moved onto other matters. I was certain his interest amounted to nothing and it would only be a matter of time before things settled back to the way it was before.

Emir Saeed forbade his wife and daughters from interrogating me on the matter, both of whom were eager to learn of my unusual familiarity with the Sultan in an effort to encourage some kind of a match between the Sultan and their eldest daughter, Sarai. Emir Saeed believed it was best that I continue whatever association I had with the Sultan, without interference from his female relations. He did not wish for word to reach the Sultan that every effort was being made to manufacture a suitable match by his wife and daughter, for it would appear unseemly and off-putting in some regard. As it was, Emir Saeed was unwilling to risk his favorable relationship with the Sultan for his wife's matrimonial machinations and ambitions. I wanted to chuckle at the turn of events. Nothing kept a wealthy and powerful Sultan away like a forced matrimonial design by overzealous mothers and their spoiled, delicate daughters.

Nasrin and I stopped by a stall that sold all sorts of odd trinkets and jewelry. It was one of the more unusual stalls, but we both derived enjoyment in examining the odds and ends that were contained here. It was not frequently visited nor crowded with people. There were seashells, pottery, and intricate quilt work that decorated the tables. There was even a tray with an assortment of jewelry and bracelets with patterns that were not familiar to these parts of the world.

"I cannot believe the Sultan took you for a ride into the desert," Nasrin mwentioned. I had told her all of my encounters thus far with the Sultan. I needed to convey my worries and fears before I let loose to the wrong individual. I trusted Nasrin, one of the few lifelong friends I had. We had known each other since we were both eleven years old. "If you take a moment to ponder it, it sounds oddly romantic."