As the vizier entered the garden, he felt the breeze off the gulf behind the palace rustle his fur. As he walked over the the beautiful balcony, he saw the sultan standing by the waist high wall, and off to the side, under a palm tree, sat a barbary leopard named Ibn Hazm, one of the Sultan's personal poet. The barbary leopard looked up as the vizier entered, then went back to writing in a large book sitting on a tiny table in front of him, probably writing a speech for the sultan to give in his court for the up coming meeting some dignitaries. At each side of the doorway to the garden stood two massive Atlas bear guards, dressed in pure red robes with swords at their waists. The vizier waited a few moments, took a deep breath, then spoke.
"Sultan, why are you out here?" the vizier asks, standing behind the sultan. "Because I am depressed, Jafaar." the sultan responded, looking over into the Gulf beyond his palace. "Because?" the canine asked, curious as to his master's emotions. "I miss my mufadl." the sultan said, ears lowered hearing the word "favorite" in Arabic. The vizier pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Why?" the jackal barked, "You have an empire blessed by God Himself, you can have any female or male you want! Why do you miss ONE pathetic, non-Arab, non-Berber, non-Muslim harem boy! He was property! His only purpose was a slave! I knew, I KNEW I should have sent him to Morocco when we captured him at sea instead of bringing him back to your palace!"
The sultan started shaking, before the jackal knew it, the sultan turned around, his imperial scimitar drawn. The Sultan reached out with his massive paw, seizing the front of the jackal's robes, hoisting the vizier to the tips of his toes, pointing at his throat, his long cloak billowing in the ocean breeze, giving the impression the sultan was much taller and bulkier than he really was. As Jafaar looked into the Sultan's deep purple eyes, he saw something that terrified him, something that horrified him beyond his darkest nightmares. He looked into those once happy eyes, the same eyes that had earned him the title Bee'arb ul-Eid, The Purple-Eyed One, he saw the darkest sight ever:
He saw nothing.
No love, no hope, no light, no sadness, no anger, no desire, no lust, no fear, no weakness, no strength, nothing at all, and worse of all the things he saw, no will to live.
"Your-Your Highness... I-I'm sorry... P-Please... put the sword down..." the jackal stammered, knowing how ferocious the sultan was when he was on the battlefield, especially when he was mad, so he could only imagine the rage the sultan could have directed at only one person, him.
The massive Barbary lion stood there, the long silver blade gleaming in the setting sun. "How dare you." the sultan said, "How DARE you say that about him!" the jackal raised his paws, terrified. "He may have been a harem boy to YOU, but he was more than that to me. He was my lover. My angel. My kitten. My MATE." the sultan's words turning into deep roars, so loud they echoed through the palace.
The Sultan released the vizier's robed and turned, looking out towards the gulf behind his palace, the sun setting, Jafaar was terrified, but he was curious at his sultan's feelings.
Jafaar then noticed something he'd never seen before in his entire life of serving the Sultan: the sultan was... crying. "I... Didn't know, Your Majesty." the vizier said. "No, you didn't." the sultan said, sheathing his sword again. "I'll never forget that night when he lay in my bed, trembling from excitement and fear, it was our first night together, and our first time, he was so beautiful... so innocent...." the sultan's tears fell freely again, "I'll never forget the amazing feeling of waking in the morning and seeing him still in my arms." the sultan looked out at the gulf. "I said things I shouldn't have... I was a pathetic MORON for saying the horrible things I did to him which drove him away. Now... now he's in the arms of another male..."
"Oh Sultan..." Jafaar said.
"Once, when we were at the Great Mosque in Cordoba... my habibi accompanied me, I told him he could travel around the markets nearby... I was inside for a bit of time, when I came out..." the sultan slightly smiled at the memory, "he was sitting exactly where I'd left him... He said he'd rather wait for his beloved than being away from his 'Emir' for a mere moment..."
"Maybe... maybe he'll come back, some day, Allah Willing, oh Sultan... his heart is in God's Hands." Jafaar said, "Allahu Alam, God knows, he may come back tomorrow!" the jackal said hoping to bolster the Sultan's spirits.
"He won't, ya Jafaar (oh Jafaar)." the lion said quietly.
"How do you know, ya Sultan (Oh Sultan)?" asked Jafaar.
The sultan looked back at Jafaar over his left shoulder, tears running down his face again, carving paths into his golden fur and soaking his onyx mane and beard, and the sultan said quietly.
"Because tomorrow never comes..."
This story was inspired on the story of al-Mutamid, an Andalusian sultan, and his male lover, ibn Ammar. The Poet in the beginning of the story named Ibn Hazm was a real poet, best known for his work (which I'm reading) "The Ring of the Dove."
artwork was done by the incredibly talented casparr on FA
Jafaar and the Sultan are mine
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9 years, 11 months ago
30 Apr 2014 08:03 CEST
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