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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #1032416
The exploits of a great general gives a man the ultimate gift, his departed beloved.
To whomever may find this humble journal, know this. I fought well, and died equally as well. I served the great Abd-er-Rahman honorably, and now in the twilight of my short life, I do not fear its coming. On the contrary, I welcome it, as without my beloved Aikaterina, life has no meaning in any event. So read my words and know how I came to be here. Unlike most of my brothers, I did not come here looking for treasure or even glory, but merely to forget my loss -- the loss of my beloved Aikaterina. All else was mere comeuppance.

It was the first year of the reign of our great and enlightened Caliph Hisham, 151 of the calendar of Islam, the greatly anticipated day of my wedding finally arrived. That day I, and my betrothed finally receive the blessings of Allah, and I at last will fulfill my wajib to the Prophet, may peace always be upon him. Allah has smiled on me and good fortune has blessed my merchant business, and so I am more than able to afford a wife and her dowry. Although the father of the bride and I already agreed upon a dowry sometime before the wedding, it will not become official until the ceremony itself. So, I delivered the mahr to my betrothed's family this past fortnight. And her father and family, pleased with the generous amount of the mahr, accepted my proposal. It is a good marriage for both families. An added bonus is the exultation that my beloved Aikaterina and I love each other with the fullness of our spirits and souls. Although I am older than her (I haven seen 24 summers to her 17), we have a connection that spans time and space. We will always be in love, and Allah be willing, He will see fit to look favorably upon us and let us join in Paradise, after our life here on Earth is concluded.

Yes, it is my wedding day, and as is the nature of all who are about to be married, I am nervous...very nervous. So much in fact, that I can hardly think straight. I am beside myself with happiness and the anticipation of sharing my bed with my comely Aikaterina. My brother will be here shortly and we will walk the brief distance to my beloved's house. It promises to be a festive occasion, with plenty of food, much song and dance and good strong tea, prodigiously sweetened with honey.

Punctual as ever, Ahmed, my brother, arrives. It is good to see him as always, and we proceed to my destiny. I am awash with joy of upcoming joining. It has been a long courtship, and it took many sessions of interviews between my beloved and my sister, and many interviews between my prospective brother-in-law and I, before we even consented to meet. Our first meeting was a year ago and we both at once knew that we were destined to be together for all eternity. My heart swelled with my love for her and I can see in her eyes, that her love for me was returned. What began as a business arraignment between two prosperous merchant families, evolved into a joining of hearts and souls. Truly, Allah has look favorably upon our upcoming union

Ahmed, and I rounded the corner, just two blocks off the main bazaar where my humble but comfortably prosperous shop is located, and the din of the multitude of buyers and sellers began to recede. Cordoba is a lovely city, especially at this time of the year during the height of the Season of Travelers. Ahmed and I made small talk; both lost in the thoughts of the wedding. There were questions on my brother's mind, this I knew. I had these same thoughts as well. Thoughts of the wars in the North...in Occitania, across the great mountains that divided the barbarian lands of the Franks and that of the civilization of the Umayyad Caliphate. As wealthy merchants we could forego service in the Armies of the Caliphate, but both of us, being of high character, were contemplating waving our exemption and taking our rightful place among the Armies of Allah in their honorable endeavor against the infidels of the North. But my impending wedding to the lovely Aikaterina had put a damper on my enthusiasm, and since my betrothal, I have frequently justified my remaining here at my business as also being beneficial to the military, and to my Caliph. Commerce needed to be attended to as well, didn't? Especially in times of war. My brother's enthusiasm however, was undaunted, as he still had no wife or children, and he was eager to go north. This I knew he would do shortly after the wedding, and it was his impending departure that sadden me somewhat in what should be my time of absolute joy. I quickly put these sad thoughts aside for now, and thought of my upcoming wedding. Joy once again inflated my heart, and I began once again to soar among the clouds of heart filled bliss.

We were still walking together, my brother still silent in fitful contemplation, and I in a fit of stupid rapture, when we came upon the threshold of my future in-laws, and our reverie was broken by shouts of welcome from the doorway. My prospective father-in-law, Omar bin Faisal, a large bear of man, gathered me up in a hug, lifting my feet from the ground, kissing me on both cheeks, and abruptly setting me down again, leaving me somewhat dazed by his exuberance. My head was still swimming a bit, when he swept my brother and myself into his magnificent house. Most of the other men were there in the main reception room as well, pulling at on hookahs, absently nibbling on dates, sipping hot sweet tea and talking about business, politics and the conflict of the North. The women of course were in the kitchen, conversing of womanly things of little consequence. I would not see my betrothed until after the ceremony, and then not really until later on tonight when we would finally consummate our joining. Omar and I decided to have an imam present, although not required by Sharia. My betrothed's representative, her brother, made sure that Aikaterina and I were in agreement of our impending marriage, and the contract was brought before me. It was already signed by my betrothed's representative, and I hurriedly signed the parchment. My brother and Omar both singed as witnesses, and thus, Aikaterina and I were married. We still won't see each other until tonight. Much merriment is still to be done first. After many hours and much food were consumed, my beloved Aikaterina and I were escorted back to my house by the scores of well-wishers present at the ceremony, who only reluctantly departed once Aikaterina and I finally closed the door to my home. I could still hear her mother wailing in appropriate grief, her weeping receding as they turned and began to make their way back to the bin Faisal household.

Aikaterina and I immediately feel into each other's arms and kissed deeply as only those lovers that know God could do. I swept her up in my arms and carried her up the stairs to my bedchamber. We both made short work of removing our garments, and settled into my soft bed; naked as the day we both came into this world. She was even more exquisite in her natural state, than she was clothed. I traced the lines of her form with my forefinger, feeling her electricity tingling my very soul. She gasped, and laid back, eyes closed. I knew not to hurt her, and I would take my time, bringing her to the crescendo of pleasure in even and deliberate measures. She would enjoy her wedding night as I would. And she would know pleasure every time we joined. I could do no less for the flame of my heart. I kissed her deeply again, and she wrapped her delicate arms around me, bringing one knee up to caress my buttocks. I separated from her lovely lips, and proceeded to kiss her neck, and the small of her throat and then her breasts. She tensed as the waves of pleasure began to heighten. As my lips brushed her flower, she moaned softly. I began to expertly use my tongue on her stamen, and her moans began to turn to groans, and her groans turned to soft screams, and her hips arched and then relaxed. I moved up on her, and slowly began to enter her. I felt her tense, and I knew that she was experiencing pain of a virgin. I began to withdrawal somewhat, but she wrapped her legs around my buttocks, and then she shook her head. Her teary eyes pleaded for me to proceed, and I did, albeit very slowly. As I finally was able to ease all the way inside her, her fingernails dug into my back. I knew it hurt, and I was trying to be careful. And when I was just about to dismount, desiring not to hurt her further, her fingernails relaxed, and she began to breath evenly, punctuated by moans coinciding with my every thrust. She was finally experiencing pleasure and not pain. I was overjoyed. I was so excited, it didn't take me long, and I filled her with my seed. She gasped one last time, as did I, and I collapsed on top of her. As I lay there breathing heavily in her ear, she lovingly stroked my hair. "I love you," was all she said. And she said it in a way that I knew she meant it. "I love you as well my angel."

The next year was exceptionally bliss. Business was excellentand my wealth increased ten-fold. However a shadow began to fall on our marriage. You see, we had not been able to conceive a baby and we were both worrying about the prospect that one of us may not be able. We consulted the imam, and physicians and the like, yet no matter what we did, no baby. It never occurred to me to leave her for another, but that fear was obviously on my beloved's mind all the time. I tried to reassure her, and she would simply shake her head and say, "My darling husband, it is me. It is my fault that you are without a son. You must find a fertile woman to give you your family." I tried and tried to assuage her fears, but to no avail. And four days after our first anniversary, the point was rendered moot. My believed and darling sweet Aikaterina was dead. The victim, they say, of a broken heart.

In the meanwhile between my marriage and my widower hood, my brother Ahmed had taken a wife and had a fine son, and no longer entertained such thoughts as running off to smite the infidels of the North. As eldest son of my father, I was head of the household and business. But I had nothing left to live for and cared not for the business of being a merchant. My brother and his wife attempted to console me in my terminal grief, but to no avail. And my brother and sister-in-law's efforts were in vain. Late one night as the household slept, I stole down the stairs with a small pack of essentials, left a note granting the business to my brother, and slowly closed the door behind me, never to set foot in it again. As I went out into the dark and deserted streets of a sleeping Cordoba, I felt the shadow of death walking with me and he was indeed a welcome companion. I made my way to the barracks and promptly enlisted in the army. Shortly thereafter, I was marching north, forever leaving the city of my birth and my life further behind me with each step. Not once, did I ever look back.

I remember many years of raping and pillaging. Before joining the army of the great Rahman, I was a shopkeeper in the great city of Cordoba in the caliphate of the same name. It was a beautiful city, and I made a respectable living as a seller of exotic wares and spices. I was also supremely happy that I had a found a good wife, who was from a well-respected merchant family as well. It could only add to my euphoria that I loved her with all my heart and being. But shortly after we were married she succumbed to and perished, presumably of a broken heart of infertility. Distraught I joined the cause of the Armies of Allah in order to destroy the infidels of the wild lands of the north. The Franks, being a godless people were ripe for conquest and the enlightenment of Islam. Thus with a large army under the great Abd-er-Rahman, we marched north. Not carrying at all for my own discomfort and only seeking the peace and paradise of death in battle, I was looking forward to joining my beloved in Paradise.

But when I tasted the sweet flavor of my first battle, I was overwhelmed by bloodlust. I wanted to smite all the enemies of Islam, and Insallah, we would be victorious and bring the infidel Franks into the bosom of Islam. Thus, we marched, and we fought, and we marched, and we fought. Many of my brothers died, but we killed more. Blood was fire in my veins; I only wanted to slaughter, and kill...all thoughts of dying in battle gone. I no longer wanted to die for Allah; I wanted instead to kill as many infidels as I could for Allah. I knew in the back of my mind, that eventually I would meet my own death at the hands of the infidel Franks, but I wanted to be sure when that time came, Allah would be pleased with my faithful and unfailing service to him.

Thus we marched and killed, and smote the enemies of Islam, and passed the river Garonne, and laid waste the country, and took captives without number. Abd-er-Rahman was a brilliant general, beyond all expectations. Our enemies withered before us like dry grass before a fire. And our army went through all places like a desolating storm. Prosperity made us insatiable. At the passage of the river, Abd-er-Rahman overthrew the count, and the count retired into his stronghold, but we fought against it, and entered it by force, and slew the count; for everything gave way to our blessed scimitars, anointed with the much blood of our enemies and which were the robbers of lives. All the nations of the Franks trembled at our terrible army, and they betook them to their king Caldus, and told him of the havoc made by the Moslem horsemen and bow. They rode at their will through all the land of Narbonne, Toulouse, and Bordeaux, and they told the king of the death of their count.

Then the king bade them be of good cheer, and offered to aid them. He mounted his horse, and he took with him a host that could not be numbered, and went against the Moslems. And he came upon them at the great city of Tours. And Allah-blessed Abd-er-Rahman and other prudent cavaliers saw the disorder of our troops, who were loaded with spoil; but they did not venture to displease the soldiers by ordering them to abandon everything except their arms and war-horses. And Abd-er-Rahman trusted in the valor of his soldiers, and in the good fortune, which had ever attended him. But alas such defect of discipline always is fatal to armies, and thus our troubles began. So Abd-er-Rahman and his host attacked Tours to gain still more spoil, and we fought against it so fiercely that we stormed the city almost before the eyes of the army that came to save it; and our fury and our zeal towards the inhabitants of the city to send them to hell which was their rightful place, were like the fury and cruelty of raging tigers. But alas, it was manifest that God's chastisement was sure to follow such excesses; and fortune thereupon turned his back upon us. We were becoming victims of our own pride. We had forsaken Allah for mere earthly spoils, and would pay the price for our vainglory.

Near the river Owar, which I believed the Franks, in their barbaric tongue called the “Loire,” the two great hosts of the two languages and the two creeds were set in array against each other. The hearts of Abd-er-Rahman, his captains and his men were filled with wrath and pride, and they were the first to begin to fight. Our horsemen dashed fierce and frequent forward against the battalions of the Franks, who, much to their credit, resisted manfully, and many fell dead on either side, until the going down of the sun. Night parted the two armies; but in the dismal mist of the morning, shrouded seemingly in the death cloth of gray, we returned to the battle. Our cavaliers had soon hewn their way into the center of the Christian host. But many of the Moslems, sickened with greed and pride, were fearful for the safety of the spoil, which they had stored in their tents, and a false cry arose in their ranks that some of the enemy were plundering the camp, whereupon several squadrons of our horsemen rode off to protect their tents. But it seemed as if they fled; and all the host was troubled. And while Abd-er-Rahman strove to check their tumult, and to lead them back to battle, the warriors of the Franks came around him, and he was pierced through with many spears, so that he died. With no leader to take the place of the great and exalted Abd-er-Rahman, we had no choice but to flee before the enemy and many died in the flight. Note now, unknown reader that I write these words with my dying strength. You see I will soon be one of the many who had died, mortally wounded by an infidel’s arrow, which has pierced deep in my side. My life’s blood is flowing freely, and before me my beloved Aikaterina, beckoning me to join her in Paradise...ahhh...the joy of seeing her again...

Post Script: As our unknown hero relinquishes his hold onto this world, his hand falls aside, trailing a jagged river of ink from his last words. He inhales one last time, pauses, as if perhaps having second thoughts of leaving this Earth, and then sighs heavily. His head rolls to one side, eyes a-glazed. His blood will flow from his fatal wound for a moment more and then will be still as his heart. The parchment in which his words are recorded is short-lived, and will quickly decay on the forsaken and blood-soaked battlefield and be carried upon the wind, scattered to the four cardinal points, unread and unnoticed by the flow of time.
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