Forget Me Not

Preface...

In a place lost to time, enjoy a coming of age story, entwined in the historical budding horse culture of my fictional land. Prophecy… first love and forever love, vengeance, and revenge as the circle of life begins anew.

Across forlorn desert sands in an all but lifeless place, a cruel and relentless wind blew silently, for there were none to hear the lonely whisper. The sands long ago covered the footprints of those who came before, their lives a sigh lost to time.

Until with one pounding gallop upon the sands and the fierce whinny carried on the wind… The land remembered.

***

"Three of life’s most precious possessions are a mare followed by her daughter in foal with a filly." Old Bedouin Legend.

A carnival atmosphere filled the air of Shaarahnil. The bustling oasis city prepared for the yearly festival and the Wadi Race, named for the valley that runs between the Tigress and Euphrates rivers. The Wadi racecourse runs in a three-hundred-mile oval around the city of Shaarahnil, nestled in the fertile, crescent-shaped valley between the two rivers, and close to the Mediterranean Sea in the upper region of Mesopotamia.

The town, a myriad of colors from the vendor’s booths, the stable tents, and royal camps. Horse breeders from all over the world joined this annual celebration and race. The stables were in a buzz as the attendants hurried about finishing chores as the first rays of dawn touched the horizon. Today was the day that King Hafez’s caravan would arrive.

The king spoke with Prince Ivan Kroḱr of Vandi a Haffa Unna, the legendary Norse Kingdom. Though renowned horsemen, warriors, and hunters in their homeland, the orphaned lesser princes of the north country, Ivan and Isaac preferred to spend their time in Shaarahnil. Especially during the festival season and the Wadi Race, however, Ivan had a more pressing reason to be in attendance this year.

“Has Aameera chosen a suitor?” Ivan asked.

The king shook his head, grinning. “She has not, although many have presented themselves. She has a great dislike of the practice,” King Hafez said, chuckling. “Where is Prince Isaac today?”

“He has gone to make purchases for me, but will return before the race,” Ivan said.

The twin princes, Ivan, and Isaac were sent with their older brothers Christopher and Valdemar to King Hafez and Queen Amani for their safety when King Abel and Queen Matilda of Vandi were called to war by Queen Boudicca, who resisted the invading Romans.

Accompanied by their uncle, Jarl Avel, and his wife, Fru Katrina, the four boys remained at Shaarahnil until King Abel and his queen did not return from battle.

High Prince Christopher I and Prince Valdemar II returned to Vandi to rule their father’s kingdom. The younger princes, Ivan, and Isaac grew up with their aunt and uncle, who frequently journeyed to Shaarahnil for festivities and visits with the royal family.

“You look more like your father every day, Ivan,” King Hafez said. He cocked his head in an uncharacteristic gesture. “You still have your mother’s eyes, though.” King Hafez grinned. “We better get to it. Aameera will be chomping at the bit to get to the stable tents. I have to speak with Abdulla before they go.”

“Certainly,” Ivan said and nodded to the king in respect. “I will see you tomorrow.”

King Hafez watched him walk away. He had known the boy’s father well. Their grandfather, King Valdemar I, had established strong trade ties with King Sadakat, Hafez’s father, and Hafez and King Abel, along with his twin brother Avel, had all grown up as friends.

“I hope Aameera chooses Ivan for her King,” he said to Queen Amani as she walked up beside him and slipped her hand through his arm.

“He sent her an exquisite vase lined with gemstones and filled with beautiful flowers this morning.” She looked into Hafez’s eyes, and he smiled down at his beautiful queen.

While her parents spoke in the courtyard, Princess Aameera El-Jarousee groomed her black rubican mare, Taleb. She saddled the great filly with her favorite blue costume and stepped back to admire her. The mare stood cross-tied in the royal stable while Aameera waited on Tammuz. She daydreamed of the Gawharat foal. An oral legend passed down by her father about the pearl foal of peace. This foal would herald a time of peace in all the kingdoms, as well as the Bedouin and nomadic tribes. A foal to be born as white as a mature gray Arabian, with blue eyes and dark skin. Such an incredible sight, Aameera thought.

Noise in the far stall pulled her from the reverie and she patted Taleb’s neck, “Ma-ajmala.”

“How beautiful indeed,” her attendant said and smiled as he passed her. Taleb was the only horse Aameera owned. She purchased her as a newborn and raised her in the palace. Last year Taleb won the great Wadi Race, proving once and for all that Aameera was ready to build her royal stables.

Today was the day she would start purchasing her mares. In Shaarahnil, magnificent horses from all over the world gathered for the Wadi, and that is where Aameera was going.

The princess patiently waited for the groom to saddle Majeeda Nasheedat, Tammuz’s mare she called Isa. A liver chestnut with two socks, a blaze, and blue eyes. Tammuz was Aameera’s personal servant, but they were more like sisters. They grew up together. Aameera was only three years old when Almasa arrived at the palace with Tammuz.

Queen Amani took pity on them and allowed them to live within the palace walls and Almasa had become their nursemaid. Tammuz left before saddling her mare to receive a messenger for the princess.

Aameera rode Taleb to the palace as the groomsman led Isa. Tammuz brought Aameera a huge, elaborate vase filled with lilies, roses, and iris flowers. The vase was stunning. Made of a pearlescent green hand-blown glass with flecks of gold, the top and bottom were lined with gemstones. The glass made a loop at the bottom of the vase, making a convenient handle. It was simply breathtaking. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Aameera said.

“It is lovely,” Tammuz began when Aameera interrupted her and hopped off Taleb. She took four lilies from the vase.

“Please put it inside and I will answer the sender when we return.” Aameera pinned a lily to each horse’s bridle, one to the collar of her dress and one to the collar of Tammuz’s dress. She loved Tammuz like a sister, and had called her thus since they were children.

The girls talked about the horses they hoped to see at the festival as they rode. Aameera wanted to buy fifty mature mares, some bred and some with foals. She did not want a stallion, for there were many fine local stallions to choose from. She did, however, want to find a stud suitable to breed to Taleb with outside bloodlines. Stallions of that quality would not be for sale, they would be racers.

As the last rays of dawn gave way to daylight, the vendors opened their booths and tents. Stable attendants and grooms finished their morning duties and began grooming the horses. The Wadi Race and fair was now a grand event, but hundreds of years ago, when royal families from different regions of the world met in this area during exploration of trade routes, they held an impromptu race. The families enjoyed it so much that they met annually to hold the race, even after trade routes became well established.

It grew into the greatest exhibition of horseflesh in the world, and the gathering that it was today. More families joined every year, and all were welcome.

Aameera and Tammuz stopped as they reached the top of the hills above Shaarahnil. An array of such beautiful colors, camps, and tents dotted the deep green meadows of the oasis city, an area with rich grass and good, sweet water. They raced their horses down the hill to the marketplace. Once there, they slowed to a walk.

Aameera thought her bodyguards a nuisance most of the time, but she was sure at the festival she would appreciate them, as there were many people in Shaarahnil this time of year. Her treasurer rode beside her, and she discussed her purchasing plans with him.

Abdulla was older, a kind man who was always laughing and happy. He felt honored to be assisting Aameera with her purchases, as discussed with the king. Abdulla helped in grooming Aameera for her future role as Queen of Shaarahnil.

The marketplace bustled with activity when the girls reached the outskirts. “I’m hungry,” Tammuz said.

They dismounted and walked through the crowd, greeting those they knew and did not know alike. The guards walked near them, keeping a protective semi-circle around them.

“How about this?” Aameera asked Tammuz as they came upon a vendor selling breads and dipping sauces. They purchased food and proceeded to the royal stable tents to settle in their horses.

Once at Aameera’s tents, Tammuz found an attendant and brought him to Aameera. She assigned him the watch and care of their horses while they were gone. Aameera did not want to take any chances with so many strangers milling about.

They said their morning prayers, ate a quick breakfast, and with Taleb and Isa well cared for, the girls went to the stable tents to purchase Aameera’s brood stock.

The main stable tent was for previous champions of the race and conformation show champions. The second tent had much larger stalls set up for broodmares and mares with foals. In the third tent, the weanlings and yearlings that were there for the conformation shows and potential sale, and the fourth tent contained the stallions for the annual stud show, breeding, or sale.

Racers for this year’s great race were in the fifth tent. Not every horse racing had to be kept there. It was just an exhibition place for the racers. In the sixth tent were the horses that were harder to handle, unbroken and wild.

***

“Hello. How are you?” the stable owner asked.

“I’m well. How are you?” said the groom that led the blanketed Norse stallion to the stables.

“All is well,” he replied.

“This is Sahir al Waheed, the Norse Prince Ivan’s show champion.” The stable proprietor lifted the blanket, but as he did so, his face registered shock. The horse, undoubtedly Arabian by his conformation, had an unusual color. He shone gold as a noon day sun, with a stark white mane and tail. A white blaze, a large snip that extended to his chin, and three socks.

The stable owner shook his head. “He will have to go to the last tent, in the last stall. I cannot allow a stallion of this color to be in the main tents. I beg your understanding.”

The groom said nothing, but extremely upset, he led Sahir to the very last stall in the sales tent. Sahir playfully nibbled on the tassels of the stall while his groom unblanketed him and got their things settled.

Prince Ivan was leaving the first stable tent as Aameera and Tammuz arrived. He was checking on his horses that had arrived by ship. The girls were intent on getting inside and did not notice him. Ivan smiled when he saw the flowers pinned to their dresses and knew she enjoyed the flowers he sent her this morning.

Once inside, Aameera saw that the first two stalls on either side of the alleyway contained Taleb’s sire and dam. Aameera asked about her mare’s mother and bought her. She was a strongly built badger face, flea-bitten gray mare. Her name was Darwar Amina Aziz. Her name meant wonderer, trustworthy from the heart. She was a two-time race winner, and a proven broodmare, an excellent first purchase. Aameera was delighted.

Next, she purchased a swift blood bay mare, a dark brown mare with a snip, and a stunning bay sabino. Each time they made a purchase, an attendant led the horse straight away to the royal stable tents and made them comfortable. There were more people here than last year, which meant more horses. The Wadi Race grew each year.

The tents were not yet full. They expected people to arrive until late tomorrow evening, so Aameera did not rush through her purchases. “I can’t wait to see the great racers of the villages around the Grotto of Adonis. The horses from this area are sturdy and healthy, extremely fast racers.”

“What makes them so special?” Tammuz asked.

“They are a mostly wild herd, nourished by the river, Adonis, that flows from the mouth of the grotto. In winter they water in a different area because the rains bring silt to the river and turn it red. The mares often choose the grotto to foal, for beyond the interior pool lies over two full miles of cave passages. A natural stone bridge leads to the grotto and some are dry passages, but some are wonderful riverbeds of sweet water. There are also a few racers expected from the area northeast of the haunting Rub al Khali.”

Aameera had a checklist in her mind. The horse had to have a kind, soulful eye, good hooves, clean legs, a deep dished jaw, a teacup muzzle, a clean throat latch, and their hair patterns had to be in place. Above all, a loving disposition. She was careful with her purchases. The color was not a consideration yet, although she seemed to have a vast color choice before her.

They walked into the second tent and Tammuz pointed out a lovely little badger face mare. As Aameera neared her stall, she trotted to her and pushed her muzzle into Aameera’s chest to be petted. She was in foal, just showing her pregnant belly. Aameera asked her groom if she was for sale. He set off at once to find her owner. Her owner returned and said that he was uncertain if he wanted to sell the little mare or not. Aameera told him that if he changed his mind, she would buy the young mare at a fair price.

She walked back to the first of the stalls as the little gray was in the third. The second held a feisty black rubican filly. Her color matched Taleb. Aameera believed her ill temper resulted from a long ship journey and overlooked that trait. Of course, Aameera had to purchase her. What a treat to have two rubican fillies.

She was from the north, belonging to Prince Ivan. Aameera sent word to him that she wished to purchase the filly. However, the filly was in the wrong tent, lucky for Aameera.

Ivan sent the messenger back to tell Aameera they could arrange a meeting just before lunch to discuss her purchase. Aameera agreed, and the messenger went to tell Ivan. The filly’s name meant elegant form, eternal beauty. “She has a lovely name,” Aameera said to Tammuz.

“Look, sister,” Tammuz said and pointed. A sorrel mare of average size, but she had a stunning head. She was Argentina bred, and exquisite. Aameera purchased her and four others from the same breeder. Three were mares with foals at their sides and the attendants carried the foals through the crowds.

Aameera found three half-sisters and purchased one. She was a striking liver chestnut with a flaxen mane and tail and no white markings. Two weanlings caught her attention in the last stall and Tammuz brought the young ones for Aameera to see. They were a set of twin fillies. A dark bay and a liver chestnut that would not turn gray with age. Aameera bought them both.

She skipped the fourth tent as she was not interested in the stallions except for breeding, and she was only purchasing breeding mares or fillies. It was a good thing she skipped that tent for Queen Amani, knowing she was not purchasing a stallion, had gone to buy one for her as a gift.

A young Egyptian stallion caught her eye, a deep chestnut rubican with a blaze, two fore socks, and rear stockings. The horse was incredible. He didn’t have a name, so the queen named him Isra Sakr, meaning secret eagle. His eyes were so beautiful you could get lost in them. Amani ordered him blanketed while being led to the royal stallion tents so that Aameera would not see him. She cautioned those who knew not to mention the purchase to the princess.

The race tent was still empty as racers were out on their morning exercises. Aameera went to the sixth and final tent. This was where defiant or ill-behaved sale horses were. In the first stall to the left slept a large, light gray mare. She was resting peacefully with her head laid on the soft straw. Aameera softly whistled, and the mare looked over her shoulder and stood up and whinnied at her. The mare stood, shook her entire body to free the clinging straw, and walked to Aameera with her head lowered and ears up. She came to her as if she had known her all her life.

Aameera had the mare led out for her to inspect. She was beautiful. Her snow-white mane and tail were a stark contrast to her still graying body color. Sweet, deep brown eyes and she had a few scars, but nothing that detracted from her beauty. Her name was Woorood, meaning Rose, and she was ten years old. Her bag was still plump with milk from weaning. Tammuz smiled as she knew this Rose was headed to the royal stables.

“Why are you selling such incredible breeding stock?” Aameera asked.

He shrugged his shoulders and threw up his hands. “I have too many,” he said and laughed. “This is an old and true line bred for work and battle mares. I wish to raise racing and show horses, and this line does not produce race champions. I have a few of the mare’s offspring and sisters for sale as well.”

“Will you show them to me?”

“Yes, of course.” The man ran off to other stalls to bring the horses, calling to his grooms for help.

Aameera bought two fillies and three mares, all as beautiful as Rose herself. She left with a request to the smiling owner, who held a sizeable bag of coins in his hand. “I will purchase any more of Rose’s line that is available and pay you a finder’s fee.”

“Thank you. Thank you,” he said and nodded his head as they moved on.

Aameera and Tammuz were looking at a glorious chestnut filly. She was a deep liver color with a flaxen mane and tail, a thin blaze, and one white sock. She was mean, biting her handlers and kicking at the farrier. Aameera laughed. “She would be an excellent companion for the rubican filly,” she said.

“They would be great stall buddies, as long as they don’t fight.”

Something caught Aameera’s attention at the last stall. The tassels danced as if in a whirlwind. She laughed when she saw a dark muzzle with a large white snip dart out, snatch a mouthful of tassels, and start tugging.

“There is a horse with a cheerful heart in that stall. Please check it out while I purchase this filly.” Tammuz moved off to the stall.

Aameera heard Tammuz gasp. She hurried toward her friend. Tammuz saw the look of alarm on Aameera’s face.

“Nothing is wrong… but look. It’s a stallion.”

Aameera nodded and turned to look over the remaining mares and fillies. She only purchased one more, for it was almost noon and time to go see Ivan about the rubican filly.

“It is time to meet Ivan,” Aameera called to Tammuz.

“You must see this stallion first,” Tammuz said and pulled Aameera’s hand.

“I do not want a stallion, but I’ll look if you insist.” She trusted Tammuz’s judgment as well as she trusted her own. Aameera stood in awe as they led the stallion before her. He was the most beautiful horse she had ever seen, a true palomino Arabian. She had never seen such beauty. She knew he must be hers and asked the groom for his sale price.

“Oh no. Sahir belongs to Prince Ivan, and he will never sell him. The owner of the stables placed him here because of his color,” the groom said.

Aameera beamed as she and Tammuz left for Ivan’s royal camp. “I will buy him when I buy the rubican filly,” she whispered to Tammuz.

Tammuz cut her eyes at Aameera. “It may not be that easy.”

Ivan was not there when they arrived, and the staff served them tea and fresh fruit while they waited.

“I… I’m sorry I’m late,” he stuttered as he said hello to Aameera. He sat down with his paperwork and knocked over his teacup.

Tammuz giggled, as did Ivan’s attendants. Tammuz leaned in and whispered to Aameera. “He is the one who sent you the flowers this morning.”

Aameera smiled. She was glad she was not the only one with a case of nerves. “The flowers and vase you sent this morning were lovely,” she said.

Ivan grinned at Aameera as he helped tidy the mishap and sat back down with a fresh cup of tea.

Aameera asked about the bloodlines on the rubican filly. Her breeding impressed Aameera, and Ivan assured the princess that her disposition would go back to normal as soon as she had a while to stretch her legs. “If her temperament does not improve, I will buy her back.” Ivan set a fair price for her and Aameera purchased her.

“I also saw Sahir al Waheed. I am interested in purchasing him.”

Ivan looked down. “Sahir is not for sale. I’m sorry.”

A bit annoyed, Aameera offered an enormous price for him that made Tammuz stare at her and her treasurer cough.

“If I were to sell him to anyone, Aameera, it would be you. I thank you for your generous offer, but he is not for sale.”

“What about breeding rights? I would like to breed him with Taleb.”

“Can I give you an answer after the race?”

Aameera nodded. She could do nothing but agree.

“Will you and your party join me for the race parade?” Ivan asked, to soften the blow.

“Oh, yes,” Tammuz said and then laughed at the expression on Aameera’s face.

“Talk to my father,” Aameera said. “We must go, or we will be late for lunch with my parents.”

Aameera and Tammuz ate little but talked eagerly about the horses Aameera had purchased during the morning.

“I will evaluate your purchases this evening when you finish for the day,” King Hafez said.

“I am looking forward to your opinion, Father. I am excited about the fine breeding stock available this year,” she said. “We had better—”

“Before you go,” Queen Amani interrupted her daughter, “I have a birthday present for you, Aameera.”

Amani sent an attendant to bring the gift. She gave whispered instructions that the stallion was to remain blanketed until the queen gave the command to remove it. Tammuz grinned and Aameera squirmed like a child with excitement.

While they waited for her gift to arrive, Aameera told her father about the stallion Sahir al Waheed that she had tried to purchase from Prince Ivan.

“You must make certain of his documentation if Ivan sells him to you or offers him for breeding. Ivan is a trusted friend, but even I am hesitant about the stallion’s color.”

A groom led Isra into the main tent. The horse’s deep chestnut head and legs were all that was visible while Amani described the fine Egyptian stallion, wildly captured by the Nile river just a few short months ago. “The finest horsemen in the kingdom examined him before the purchase,” Queen Amani said.

Aameera knew the Nile river herd had some of the finest blood in Egypt, and they closely monitored the foals until they reached three years old, at which time they captured and broke them for sale. They worked the horses for six months before being offered and broke some to ride.

Amani gave the command for the silk blanket to be removed from the stallion. The blanket, in the style of the European racehorse coolers, covered the horse’s entire body, and a hush fell over the company as the silk slid from his back.

“I have never seen a chestnut rabicano. He is simply breathtaking.” He nuzzled Aameera and Tammuz as if to say hello. “What is his name?” Aameera asked.

Amani patted his neck and replied, “Isra Sakr, and he is for your breeding stable. He should make a fine racer, as well.” She handed his lead to Aameera.

“Tammuz, come with me!” she squealed. The girls dashed out of the tent, leading Isra at a trot. His chestnut shone like copper in the sunlight. Aameera forgot about Sahir. She had not considered buying a stallion, but this gift from her mother was such a fine surprise.

Isra reared to his full height, as if to survey the world around him. Aameera gave a tug on the lead, and he returned to earth. “Tammuz, will you ask mother if they broke him to ride?”

Tammuz took off at a run and came scampering back. “Yes. He rides well.”

Aameera entered him in the match races, with an option if he won to compete in the great race. After six months of daily riding in Egypt, his conditioning would be ideal. Aameera launched herself onto his back and reached for Tammuz to join her. Tammuz swung up behind her sister with the grace of a gazelle.

Aameera whirled the stallion, and they bolted through her father’s main tent, which had the sides drawn up to let in the light and air. The staff jumped here and there as Isra glided through the tent with ease. King Hafez’s laughter rang out as her mother scolded the girls for upsetting the staff. The stallion responded to the lightest touch of the lead. He handled as well as Taleb. They cantered him around, then rode to the stallion tent. His groom met them.

“I will walk him and cool him down for you.”

“I want him kept in my father’s tents when you’re done grooming him.” The groom nodded, and the girls set out to do more shopping. “I do not want to risk him covering Taleb. I still hope to breed her to Sahir,” she told Tammuz.

Before they reached the stables, a messenger from the pregnant mare’s owner she had looked at that morning found them with news that he would sell her. His price was twice what Aameera was paying for the other horses. She made a slightly lower offer and asked the mare’s name. Her name was Arab al-Hawa, Mirage of the Wind.

“Wait,” her treasurer called, catching up with them. “Send a groom and the purse should the owner agree to the offer.”

“Excellent idea. If he agrees, take Sarab straight to my stable tent.”

Instead of starting at the first tent, Tammuz suggested they go to the racers’ tent. Aameera agreed. “I feel much better now. Even though I didn’t want a stallion, Isra is a diamond indeed.”

“You should look for mares to compliment him, so next year you will have new foals with racing lines,” Tammuz said.

Once inside the tent, she saw the tall rose gray mare Sahara Mirror that had come in third to Taleb in the race the year before. She remembered how much Tammuz had loved the mare and discreetly sent a servant to buy her.

“Tammuz, will you join me in evaluating this bay mare?” she asked. The bay was sleek and came from a long racing line in Spain.

“She will make a fine mare for Isra,” Tammuz agreed.

Her price was fair, so Aameera bought her and as the bay mare was being led away, the groom walked up with Sahara Mirror. Tammuz reached out and petted the mare she was so fond of.

“What do you think of her?” Aameera asked.

“This is the mare I loved so dearly, the one I told you about.”

Aameera handed Tammuz the mare’s lead, documentation, and papers. “She is yours, my sister.”

Tammuz stood shocked for a moment before she hugged Aameera and thanked her. Aameera instructed her groom to take the mare to the royal stable tent.

“I cannot believe that you bought Sahara Mirror for me.” Tammuz was still excited as they moved on to the next horse.

A small bay minimal sabino that favored a rabicano, and she was a spirited young mare who bounced about and played with a child’s large toy ball in her stall. Aameera liked her conformation and her playful nature. She was European bred and a mare who was a race champion in her own country. Her name was Fairest Dawn, and Aameera purchased her and four more mares from the race tent. The horses in this tent took longer to evaluate because Aameera wanted to make sure they were free from injuries.

“I am thinking I would like to stroll through the marketplace before the evening,” Aameera said.

“I want to go as well, but we’ll have to hurry. We must get back to camp,” Tammuz said.

They bought fine blankets and new pillows, as they planned to sleep in Rose’s stall that night to be close to the new horses. The textile tent from Egypt was the only place they visited. Once back at camp, they ate a quick dinner, eager to get to the stable. Staff set up a sleeping area for the girls in Rose’s stall.

As a battle mare, she was accustomed to sleeping with humans. Battle mares sleep in the tents of their riders. When the girls arrived at the stable tent, Aameera was pleased to see Sarab in a stall.

There had been a divider taken down between Rose’s stall and the stall next to it, which had the two weanlings in it. Aameera’s stable manager explained that the fillies still wanted to be close to their mother. Aameera reminded herself to check the full names of the horses on the papers the next time she purchased a horse. She would have seen they were together had she checked the papers.

Her father and mother arrived to inspect her new purchases. “I am impressed with your choices, Aameera,” the king said. “Don’t forget to check the pedigree and not just decide on instinct…”

He paused and stopped at Rose’s stall. “Will you bring her out for me?” he asked the groom.

He ran his hand down her shoulder and traced her scars with his fingers. He looked at Aameera. “Why did you purchase this mare?”

“She has exceptional confirmation, and she is stoutly built for an Arabian. I felt a calmness and trust in her, and I loved her kind eyes. I bought her twins, two more of her fillies, and three of her sisters, as well.”

Her father smiled in a way Aameera seldom witnessed. “You have made a wise choice in this bloodline. Rose is a seasoned battle mare and has seen her rider through many victories. I know this mare well,” he said, smiling. “It is a strong female line, and I commend you for seeing the quality on your own. Send messengers to see if there are more of this line available.”

“I will do so now, father. Thank you,” Aameera said, basking in her father’s praise. She sent a messenger and Tammuz as well. She trusted Tammuz’s opinion as much as her own.

By the time her father and mother reached the last stall, they bubbled with praise for her excellent brood stock.

“Isra will cross well with most of the mares you have purchased,” Queen Amani said. “I am proud of you, Aameera. My baby girl is all grown up.” Her mother’s eyes filled with tears.

“I will always be near, Mother,” Aameera whispered and hugged her.

Tammuz and the messenger arrived with four more mares. They were Rose’s sisters.

“Rose’s dam was a legendary battle mare. She had keen instincts and reflexes. A sense of being aware of impending danger that she passed to her foals. Shaheen, carried my best friend in battle, defending Shaarahnil for many years,” King Hafez said.

“I have not heard that story before, Father.”

“Raiders stole her from a trade caravan ten years ago and, although we searched, we never recovered her. I have long thought her—”

The king stopped speaking as a crying voice called to him. “Your Majesty. Your Majesty,” a young groomsman cried at the stable door. “I have found Shaheen!” Azariah shouted as he entered the stable tent leading the matriarch, showing in foal. “They tied her beside a gypsy’s tent outside the marketplace,” he said, breathing heavily. “I recognized the crescent moon scar on her jaw, and the scars on her face from stories my father told me of the great mare. I promised the gypsy I would return quickly with payment.”

The king loped to the front of the stable tent when he heard Shaheen’s name. “Thank you, Azariah.” The king clasped the young man’s shoulder, and visibly excited he patted the mare.

“Hello, old friend,” he whispered, and Shaheen nuzzled him as if she remembered.

He motioned for Abdulla to go with the boy for payment. “Ask for any documentation,” he said and then turned to Aameera.

“Her original owner, my best friend, and first cousin Rabbani is dead. Shaheen shall become your oldest broodmare at the age of twenty-three.” They settled the grand mare into a stall between her daughters, and the girls settled near them to sleep.

Rose stood watch over her four daughters, two equine and two human, as they slept. The girls lay down on their blankets only to find the weanlings lying by their sides. Rose stood over the four of them and did not close her eyes until the first rays of dawn peeked over the horizon.

Tammuz was the first to wake and found the filly cuddled up to her, and saw Aameera cuddled to the other. Rose stood over them with her head lowered, almost touching the girl’s heads with her soft gray muzzle.

Tammuz gently shook Aameera to wake her. The filly cuddled into Aameera, not wanting to wake up yet. She laid her neck over Aameera and looked at Tammuz as if to say, Why did you wake us?

A soft nicker from Rose and the filly slowly rolled to her belly and switched her tail in annoyance at being awakened. Aameera smiled and told Tammuz she had a dream of the Gawharat foal. She dreamed a dark-colored mare had given birth to a stunning white filly with blue eyes. “In my dream, all the people rejoiced, and the tribes came together as one. The foal grew strong and became a living symbol of peace for all the nations.”

Tammuz laughed, “I know the legend as well as you. It is a wonderful dream.”

The girls dressed and said their morning prayers, then left for breakfast with her parents. On the way, Aameera looked at Tammuz. “We are building a fine breeding stable of horses. Now we need dogs, too.”

“We should go to the marketplace today and look over the dogs. You know, they come in from all over the world,” Tammuz said.

“I love that idea, sister. It will be a fine morning.”

They ate breakfast in a hurry, Amani scolded them for racing through the tent with the stallion the day before. They apologized, but it was hard to look contrite when King Hafez stood behind her doing everything he could to not burst out laughing.

The girls hurried off to look at the incoming mares. They went to the champions’ tent and walked in as they had the day before. A loose bay mare with her ears pinned and teeth bared, screaming like a mad stallion, stood on her hind legs. She wielded her front hooves as weapons of death.

Grooms were dashing here and there, trying to get their hands on her. She pawed or savagely bit anyone who got near her. She sent a stable attendant flying with a violent kick from both back hooves. Upon closer inspection, many bloody men were standing about.

The girls left the tent, surrounded by guards and thankful to have gotten away unharmed. Ivan was on the far side of the mare, and he saw the girls dash for freedom.

He ran out the back of the tent and straight to Aameera and Tammuz. He told them that the bay mare was Mahoubba Maraj, the legendary racer of lower Mesopotamia. The raiders had come this year to the great race and brought their bloodthirsty mare.

“I heard she would pull a rider from the saddle if the other horse got too close,” Tammuz said.

“The raiders are abusive and cruel. Their animals are the same,” Ivan said. “She has been loose for a while and has injured sixteen men.”

“I don’t want to go back there,” Aameera said.

Ivan insisted on staying with the girls with the raiders near. Aameera thanked him. The encounter upset both girls. It had been years since the entire tribe of lower Mesopotamia had been in this area.

They had all but fallen into legend for the younger generation. The older generation remembered well the devastation wrought by this band of raiders in the many years before. More, they brought with them a threat to reveal a secret that loomed over the royal family of Shaarahnil. That secret would forever change Tammuz and Aameera’s lives.

The girls decided they would go to the mare and foals tent again. Most of the horses had arrived. There were just a few more expected from Cairo, Spain, and Argentina.

Aameera noticed a lovely, light, solid liver chestnut mare in foal. Her belly showed she was far along in foal. She nickered to Aameera and came and nuzzled her cheek. Aameera wrapped her arms around the mare’s swanlike neck and buried her face in her mane. The gentle little mare nuzzled Aameera and Tammuz and softly nickered to them.

“This is what I am looking for in my horses,” Aameera said. “It’s what first drew me to Sahir. He has a cheerful heart.”

“This is a striking mare,” Ivan said and patted her neck. He would not take Aameera’s bait. He had plans for Sahir.

Tammuz sent a servant to find the mare’s owner with an offer on the mare. The servant returned in a few minutes with the mare’s documentation and said she would receive the papers in a few hours. Aameera noticed on the outside of the documentation the little mare had no name. She checked, but the pedigree was missing. “We have to think of a perfect name for such a lovely lady.”

The groom went to lead the little mare away, and she pulled back toward Aameera and Tammuz. Aameera allowed the mare to accompany them until they reached the next tent. She bought three more mares, all delightful little bays, but none she liked as much as the little liver chestnut.

As she was instructing a groom to put the little mare in the stall next to Taleb, Rose’s owner came and asked her to look at the four horses he had found in the Rose line.

Aameera agreed, and the trio set off for the owner’s tent. Remembering her father’s reaction to Rose the night before and his delight in that female line, Aameera would buy any horse of this line for her stable. They sat at a small table, while tea was served, and the man, named Asad and his grooms, went to fetch the horses.

“His name means lion,” Aameera said. “He seems honored that I have such a liking for the bloodline that he kept for many years.”

A young servant boy with a fresh cut on his cheek served their tea.

Tammuz pointed out the groom leading the little liver chestnut mare. Other horses crowded her as a roar from the marketplace spooked them. The mare remained quiet and did not even flick an ear. Her ears stayed up as she surveyed the world around her.

“Mercy on that mare’s new owner,” the boy said. “For there goes the daughter of the devil!”

Aameera asked him to explain what he meant. He said that she was the unnamed filly of Mahoubba Maraj herself. Aameera got a sick feeling in her stomach. That is why her owner did not bring all the documentation at once. She watched the little mare and saw nothing of the bay monster. Softly, Aameera said, “Her name is Moniet El-Nefous, the wish of the soul, and she is my mare.”

The boy begged forgiveness and his mother explained it was Mahoubba that had hurt him during the night when she had gotten loose. She terrorized many people, and a doctor had to be called in to treat several of them.

Aameera put her arm around his shoulders. “All is well. There is nothing to worry about.”

“What do you think, Ivan?” she asked.

“I think Moniet is a beautiful name,” he said. “I told you earlier the raiders are abusive. There was nothing in that little mare to worry about.”

Aameera’s tummy did an unaccustomed jump when Ivan smiled at her. Asad returned just in time with three mature mares and a stud colt. One mare was Rose’s sister. A fine, light, powdery rose gray mare with four stockings, a thin blaze, and a snip. Asad kept her as his personal horse but offered her to Aameera for her breeding stable. Aameera bought her as she would make a fine replacement mount for herself while they bred Taleb. Bassira Shareek, meaning intelligent partner, was her name and Aameera loved her. She was beautiful.

The other two mares were distant relations to Rose but did not have her refinement or eye. They had taken after the stallion bloodline and Aameera did not see Rose’s spirit in them. She passed on them. She was afraid in time, they would find forged paperwork with those two. All the horses of the Rose line had such noble bearing, these two didn’t show any indications of the bloodline.

The stud colt was a deep seal brown to the point the looked black with a star and a snip. He had Rose’s spirit, a cocky young colt dancing about, flicking his ears back and forth, flagging his tail. He nickered calls to passing horses and pawed the ground in contempt of their ignoring him. Once he observed his surroundings, he stood square and looked down at Aameera as if to say, Hua. Well, who are you? He had Rose’s fine conformation, heavier boned than her, he was a three-year-old set for his first match race in the evening exhibitions.

“He’s incredible,” Ivan said.

“I love the air of nobility about him. I’ll take him,” she told Asad. She smiled at the old man. “Does he have a name?” Asad shook his head.

“I will call him Anisa Asad, meaning 'a friendly lion.' I will name him for the man I bought my Rose bloodline from.”

“It is an honor, Princess,” Asad said.

“Would you like to have lunch with us?” she asked Ivan. “We have to be back at noon.”

“I would love to have lunch with you, Princess.” There was that smile again.

She had a sense of comfort when Ivan was around, though she would admit that to only Tammuz. As they were walking back to the royal stables, they passed a set of tents from Europe. Outside the main tent was a smaller stable tent, with Welsh riding ponies.

Aameera had an idea. She grabbed Tammuz’s hand and darted to the tents, yelling over her shoulder for Ivan to wait. He did so grinning at Aameera.

The girls quickly came back from the English stable tent leading three Welsh ponies. Aameera bought two fine lightly bred mares and a young powerful stallion. For herself, she purchased a light Isabella palomino-colored mare. For Tammuz, she had chosen a dark chestnut, and the stallion which she presented to Ivan as a gift was a stunning gray and white paint named Little Drummer Boy.

Aameera bought the ponies for riding about the festival and around Shaarahnil while everyone gathered to give the Arabians a break. She thought they would make fine carriage ponies for the palace afterward.

Ivan wore a silly grin and thanked Aameera for her thoughtfulness.

At lunch, they talked about Mahoubba and the raiders. King Hafez welcomed Ivan and thanked his friend for watching over the girls.

“I have reason to despise the raiders and I do not wish the girls to return to the stable tents, or leave the royal tents this afternoon without Ivan. I am in fear for their safety!” the queen said, speaking to her husband.

Aameera stared at her mother. The outburst was unlike her.

It surprised Ivan as well, but he agreed that if Aameera found it acceptable, he would remain with them until he had safely seen them back to King Hafez and Queen Amani.

Even though Almasa was their constant companion, Aameera felt safer with Ivan there. She readily agreed.

As they left, the king asked Ivan to join them for the race parade that evening and the exhibitions.

“I would be delighted, Your Highness. I am expecting my twin brother, Isaac from Cairo this evening as well,” he said.

“Of course, you must bring him with you.”

The king presented Aameera with eleven mares of her family’s royal bloodline. All bred to his prize stallions. These were mature mares, sent all over the world to show. Conformation champions and the best broodmares available. Aameera was speechless. “What an incredible honor.”

With Aameera and Tammuz’s twenty-first birthdays coming, her father wanted to gift her family bloodlines for her stables.

“Father, I want permission for Tammuz and me to follow the racecourse this year with the raiders about. I am worried about our racehorses.” King Hafez frowned at her request and shook his head.

Ivan quickly spoke up. “Aameera’s royal caravan can join ours on the race trail. That way there will be safety in numbers. The raiders will not dare both the royal Shaarahnil contingent and the royal Norse contingent.”

A smile gradually spread across King Hafez’s face, and he agreed. “It will be a wonderful idea for the caravans to join,” he said. He knew Ivan was in love with Aameera and would let nothing happen to her. He fervently hoped his daughter would choose this young Norse prince for her husband and king.

Tammuz prodded Aameera’s foot under the table, and Aameera bit her lip. She knew Aameera liked Ivan, and this was a brilliant turn of events.

The Norse Kingdom only expected Ivan and Isaac in their homeland for special occasions as they were lesser princes. At their parents' death, High Prince Christopher Kroḱr I, took the crown.

They had spent most of their lives in the Middle East with their Uncle, Jarl Avel going from country to country. Jarl Avel and King Abel were also twin brothers, and both had been good friends of King Hafez.

Aameera motioned to her groom. “Please lead Moniet out for the king.” She wanted his opinion of the mare that she loved. He led the lovely mare to the royal tent. King Hafez smiled as he looked her over. She kept her ears up, curious about what the king was doing as he looked her over. Only flicking an ear back to pay attention to what was going on around her.

He asked Aameera why she doubted the little mare and she explained she had bought her without knowing that Mahoubba was her dam.

“Mahoubba was once the most well-loved filly in my kingdom. The Mesopotamians stole her long ago. Years of abuse turned her into the monster you witnessed this morning. She was not always so!”

“That’s what Ivan said,” Aameera told him. “Moniet’s documentation said that Mahoubba had been ill when she foaled Moniet. The filly was raised by the stable owner’s children.”

“I see she is out of a stolen Bulgarian stallion named Black Sea. He was a fine battle stallion from Africa, given as a present to their king and stolen at the same time as Mahoubba. I would like to get a foal from Moniet once she has weaned the foal she carries now.”

Aameera’s mouth popped open, and Tammuz laughed at her. She was thrilled her father wanted a foal out of her chosen brood stock.

After lunch, the trio set out on their Welsh ponies. A messenger had told Aameera of new brood mares that had arrived from Cairo, and she wanted to see if any were worth buying.

Ivan’s legs were too long for the Welsh stallion, and he had a hard time balancing. Tammuz giggled at him, but Aameera didn’t notice as she talked about the race parade and exhibitions to be held that evening. After the race parade, the first exhibition was to be the broodmare exhibition, followed by a brood stallion exhibition, a falconry show, and finally two demonstrations of the sight hounds of the world that were gathered at the festival. In buying all the mares Aameera had not the time to enter any of her horses in the exhibitions, but she had a great surprise planned for the race parade.

“Let’s go to the marketplace first,” Aameera said, addressing Ivan. They tethered the ponies at the watchman’s tent and walked through the vendor’s paradise. The first tent they visited was the Persian textile tent. Beautiful clothes, blankets, rugs, and fabric were for sale. Aameera bought some new silk and tapestry material for new curtains for her bedroom in her new palace.

Tammuz however bought a collection of silks for new dresses. Queen Amani had taught the girls to care for themselves and all three of them could make use of this material.

Ivan found some stunning outfits he purchased. There were six of them three men’s and three ladies. They were deep royal blue trimmed in silver thread and decorated with dark hunter green and gold baroque horses. Each outfit differed a little from the other. He kept two of the men’s outfits and sent the rest to King Hafez and Queen Amani with a note.

Once outside the tent, a servant reported there were falcons for sale.

“Let’s buy four falcons and that way we can send the progress of the horses to the palace during the race,” Tammuz said.

“Great idea,” Ivan exclaimed. He sent one of his attendants to run an errand. The girls looked puzzled as the attendant busted out laughing and ran off to do as Ivan requested. They bought the falcons and hired four fine falconers to handle the birds.

Aameera sent them to the royal tents where her attendant would get them settled in. She walked toward the tents as she called, “Please take the ponies to the royal stable tent as well.”

She must have noticed, Tammuz thought.

Ivan’s staff came back with two Norse sight hounds. Their proper name was Wolhounds in the north. Elegant animals that covered the ground in an effortless floating gait. Ivan handed their leashes to the girls.

“They’re lovely, Ivan,” Aameera said and looked up at him. She petted and scratched the young female colored like an English collie. “I will name her Laheeb meaning flame, for her red and white markings,” she said.

Tammuz named her large male, Inam meaning gift. Inam was a very large dark brindle dog with very little white on him.

Aameera flushed prettily as she thanked Ivan again. “How did you know this is exactly what we wanted?”

He smiled at her, “I read your mind,” he said and laughed aloud as her blush deepened.

“I’m kidding. Your groomsmen hinted you had your eye on a pair of fine sight hounds, so I bought you a well-bred pair of young Wolhounds.”

They kept the dogs with them as Aameera went to tent after tent, however, she passed on each mare she looked at. The Spanish King Abelardo Balduino brought a filly to Aameera for a gift as she was going into the fourth tent. A sleek gazelle looking three-year-old, she shimmered in the sun but was as black as midnight with a star and a snip, two socks, and ice-blue eyes that pierced the heart. She was out of the famous Spanish stallion Argentina Sunset, and the international champion mare Silent Night, her name was Tranquil Vendetta.

“She is most beautiful,” Aameera breathed. “Thank you.”

A messenger came to her with news of a half-sister of Rose, a fine chestnut filly in the last tent, so they skipped the other stable tents and went to look at the chestnut. She was a deep chocolate red with a large blaze and a snip. No white on her feet and a mane and tail that had the look of spun gold. She was lovely and Aameera bought her as well. The mare pranced about looking from side to side with her tail arched over her back like a banner.

“Her name is Zumurroda, meaning emerald and she is as beautiful as the stone they named her for. I’ll take her,” Aameera said.

“It is time to prepare for tonight’s events,” Abdulla reminded them.

Almasa agreed and shooed them toward their tents as they talked over Isaac’s impending arrival and the mares Ivan sent him to Cairo to purchase.

Ivan had a secret and was most excited to see what Isaac had truly gone to Egypt to purchase. The preceding year Ivan had asked King Hafez for Aameera’s hand in marriage when she came of age. He had told Ivan that Aameera would make her own choice of a future king and life partner. Ivan held onto the hope that Aameera would accept him. He had commissioned something made just for her he hoped might help her decide.

“Tranquil Vendetta is a beautiful horse,” he said. “Will you bring her as a riding mount in the caravan following the race?”

“Certainly, if you would like,” Aameera agreed.

Tammuz suggested that the three of them, or four with Isaac’s arrival, take most of the next day selecting their riding mounts, and buying anything they may need for the caravan.

“That is an excellent idea,” Ivan said. “We must prepare for the long ride.”

By the time they all finished talking about the next day’s plans, they had already reached King Hafez’s royal tents.

Ivan bid them farewell. He bowed and kissed Aameera’s hand and said “Breyta né Ominni Mir,” and smiled that smile.

Aameera grinned, but her brows furrowed. “What does that mean?” she asked.

“Forget me not,” Ivan said, as he turned and walked away.

Even veiled, the happiness shone in her eyes, and Tammuz whispered, “If you don’t quit smiling like that, everyone will think you are in love.”

Aameera looked shocked. She dismissed the pleasant yet awkward thought and stepped into the tent to eat dinner and ready herself for the evening’s festivities.

***

After dinner, Queen Amani presented the girls with the finery Ivan had purchased earlier in the day and gifted the family. The royal families from all over the world would dress in their finest this evening as they presented their racers in the parade. They were excited to have matching outfits for the presentation.

Aameera and Tammuz were discussing the mares she had purchased when they announced a foreign royal visitor. The girls looked at each other, puzzled. Amani left to go see who their visitor was.

Within a minute, Fatimah, her handmaid appeared. "Princess Aameera, your father requests your presence."

Aameera and Tammuz set off for the main tent, wondering to themselves who this person was.

King Abelardo Balduino had arrived to present himself as a royal suitor for Aameera. He brought for her fine gifts, a Spanish carriage with six Andalusian carriage horses, five mares and a stallion and fine harnesses for each of them trimmed in gold. He presented her with four fine Spanish Arabian racehorses all of whom were entered the Wadi Race and two chests of gold, treasures, and jewelry. His groom led up two tremella Lusitano stallions. They were stark white with ice-blue eyes.

“These are fine gifts indeed, King Abelardo Balduino.” Aameera thanked him.

He was a very likable man, but Aameera was not interested in entertaining suitors. However, in a true kindhearted fashion, she let none of her nervousness show. She thanked him for his generous gifts.

The Spanish King asked King Hafez if they would join his royal party that evening for the festivities, but King Hafez politely declined and told Abelardo Balduino that his family had previous plans.

Queen Amani thanked Abelardo for his kind gifts and dismissed herself, Aameera and Tammuz so that they could prepare for the evening’s event.

Once back in the changing tent, Amani asked, “How do you feel about the Spanish King?”

Aameera shook her head. “I hate to hurt his feelings, and I would give the gifts back if it was not an insult. I wish my father would choose a suitor for me. I hate this.”

Aameera would not marry the Spanish King. She would never leave Shaarahnil. Amani understood how Aameera felt, for she knew her daughter’s kind heart.

“I know I must choose a husband soon, but I want to focus on my stables for now. Please send a messenger and many gifts to King Abelardo and let him know right away I do not wish to leave my family and country to be queen in a foreign land.”

“King Abelardo will understand, Aameera. After all, a future queen could not leave her own country for another. You have made a wise choice.” Even though she knew her daughter’s heart was broken.

Aameera donned the fine blue Persian dress, hiding her sadness from Tammuz and her mother. She did indeed wish that no other suitors would present themselves. She’d been dealing with this for months and wanted it to be over.

Though she could not be rash in choosing a husband, the future King of Shaarahnil must be a fine, courageous man… like Prince Ivan, but he had not presented himself as a suitor.

She shook her head and wondered where that thought had come from.

"The wind of heaven is the breeze felt blowing between a horse’s ears." Arabian Proverb.

The royal family of Shaarahnil arrived fifteen minutes before the beginning of the race parade. While the Wadi was not an extremely long endurance race, it was a famous and well-loved race running the caravan trade routes. The winner of the race received several grand prizes. A chest of gold, a chest of silver, a stunning set of Arabian tack for the winner, and a prized racer’s table with the details of their race engraved on it. This year the stakes were higher, each entrant, and the royal family would gift the winner a fine mare in foal.

Aameera had seven horses running the race, and she had a surprise planned! Tammuz was jittery for an entirely different reason. The Mesopotamian Raiders made her fearful. The girl’s minds were both set at ease when they sighted the Norse royal entourage coming their way.

Tammuz could not help but notice how handsome Isaac was. It had been years since she’d seen him. He was just a little shorter than Ivan but had the same strong build and features. They both wore similar deep blue outfits to the one Aameera’s father wore.

They seated themselves beside the girls just as they announced King Hafez’s racers. Ivan and Isaac said hello to everyone as five of the king’s finest racers trotted into the arena. His gray stallion Nasr Amal, victory in hope, was a five-time champion and unchallenged in the short distance races by any but his fiery red son. Then came Aaslfa, whose name meant storm. A sorrel mare came in next, followed by her daughter Laheeb. The last two were Bint-helwa, and Sahara Sarab, meaning desert mirage.

When the trumpets sounded again, it was announcing Aameera’s racers. She was so excited she grabbed Tammuz and Ivan’s hands. The announcer introduced eight racers.

Tammuz looked at Aameera, puzzled. “Where did the eighth horse come from?”

Aameera said nothing. She watched as they led Isra into the arena. Everyone clapped and cheered as their princess’s first official racer entered. The next four were the horses from the Spanish king. Aameera did not even know their names yet. Two fillies from Rose’s line were next, Sitar Sawda, the veiled black one, and Leila-Night, the Woorood-Rose.

The trumpets sounded for another horse as the announcer stood up. It shocked Tammuz as they led her rose gray mare Sahara Mirror into the arena.

Tammuz burst into laughter and Aameera hugged her. It was not until Aameera reached for Tammuz that she realized she had hold of Ivan’s hand. She turned to Ivan and quickly apologized.

He retrieved her hand, and she smiled back with her eyes. King Hafez watched and was pleased. He hoped Aameera would choose Ivan as her king, although he would have cut off another man’s hand for touching his daughter.

“Your filly is stunning,” Isaac told Tammuz. “What are her bloodlines?”

“I do not know. She is a race champion, but I have not had the proper time to go over her paperwork. I have been busy helping Aameera build her breeding stable.”

They continued to discuss the grand mares, fillies, and foals that Aameera had purchased. Isaac enjoyed talking to Tammuz. She was brilliant, beautiful, and knew the horses. Lost in conversation, it was as if the rest of the world had faded away. They had not seen each other in many years.

King Abelardo’s racers were brought in next, followed by Ivan and Isaac’s horses. The English, Argentine, and other countries came into the arena. The Mesopotamian racers came in last. They had muzzled Mahoubba, and she had two handlers.

Ivan noticed that Sahir’s handler was very upset. He sent a messenger to check and see what the trouble was.

When the messenger returned to Ivan, he told him that Anjum, the handler, had to fight with the race parade organizer and the stable owner to get Sahir into the parade. They insisted on seeing his papers and his documents. When everything said Sahir was purebred, they jerked the lead from Anjum, turning the stallion loose, and beat Anjum for falsifying documents. Sahir attacked the stable owner, and they banished him from the stables. Anjum fought his way through and led the Sahir into the arena.

Overhearing this, Aameera told Ivan to wait just a minute. She leaned over and spoke to her father. He smiled and nodded his head. Aameera told Ivan to give Anjum instruction to take Sahir to King Hafez’s royal stallion tent, and that was where they would stay until Ivan departed. Ivan sent the messenger to do just that.

King Hafez’s eyes glittered as he leaned toward Ivan. “I apologize, Ivan. I will punish the race parade organizer for his insult to a visiting royal family.”

He sat back, still rigid, took a deep breath, and sent a messenger to inquire about a lovely sorrel Argentine mare in the parade. He sent his treasurer as well to purchase the mare if she was for sale. The messenger returned with the mare’s papers and documentation. Her name was Sonora Lenore.

Sonora’s handler was moving her up the line into King Hafez’s horses when the little mare brushed against Mahoubba. Enraged, the bay slung her head and knocked the Argentine groom flat on his face.

Mahoubba reared and successfully freed herself from her handlers. She was coming down to trample the handler when a small dapple gray English mare kicked her in the chest with both back hooves, knocking Mahoubba off balance and toppling her to the ground.

Four Mesopotamian handlers were on Mahoubba before she could stand and hobbled her. The English mare, Innocent Thunder, pulled loose when her handler bent over to assist the Argentine handler. She saved their lives.

King Hafez ordered an immediate halt to the parade. He could not remove Mahoubba without starting a war. However, he demanded they pony Mahoubba to another horse for the rest of the parade. He ordered Fajera, the wicked one, to be brought in.

Fajera was a deep muscled dark bronze chestnut stallion with a blaze and four stockings. He was a violent stallion to unruly horses. Fajera would grab a blustery colt by the crest of his neck and slam him into a wall. He killed two stallions that had broken into his mare’s pens. He was gentle to people, but he tolerated no ill behavior from horses.

Omar, his owner, and King Hafez’s friend who ran the coffee shop in Shaarahnil rode him into the ring. Fajera reared to his full height when he entered the arena. He had been a gift to the owner from King Hafez. Fajera was Nasr Amal’s son and the fastest short distance racer to hit the track in the country. He was also the only horse that roamed freely in Shaarahnil. They led Mahoubba to Fajera’s side. On her right, a handler held her lead and two handlers remained on her left.

Mahoubba pinned her ears and Fajera struck. He bit her on the neck, and when she tried to lunge forward, he stepped into her, making her lose her stance. She lifted a back leg to kick him, and Fajera pawed her and bit her neck, and shook her like a dog. Mahoubba stood quietly beside Fajera after that. Once Fajera had her lined out, King Hafez let the race parade begin. Another twenty minutes of showing the racers and it was time for the exhibitions.

The match races were first. There were six match races, each a quarter of a mile. The announcer drew the racers, so no one knew which horses were racing against each other. The first drawn was a roguish looking solid sorrel mare from Africa. They set her against a gray racer of Isaac’s. The mares blasted from the starting line, neck, and neck. They raced, neither ahead of the other by more than a nose. It was over in a flash, a tie. They crossed the finish line at the same time.

The second race was between two Argentine mares and was uneventful. However, the third race was Aameera’s Isra against Queen Amani’s black racer, Fahesh. The horses broke clean, and Isra covered the ground. His stride lengthened and the great black racer of Amani’s didn’t have a chance as Isra reached the finish line five lengths ahead of the mare.

“I am delighted, Mother. Thank you. He is a splendid stallion indeed.”

The next two races were as uneventful as the second. It was the last race Aameera was anticipating. Her Asad colt was in this race, going up against an Argentina Purebred reputed to have blistering speed.

The colt broke slowly, but the Argentine jockey also broke late, and the colt was three lengths ahead by the time the mare started. The jockey did his best to close the distance, but the colt sailed ahead with ease, although the Argentine mare had closed the distance to one length as the colt crossed the finish line.

With the match races over, it was time for the broodmare exhibition. Only bred mares of fine proven champion lineage or mares with five grown champion offspring could compete. There were only eleven mares in this class. King Hafez smiled as they led the first three mares into the ring. He heard Aameera squeal with surprise and delight.

She had been so busy building her royal stable, she had not had the time to enter her horses in the exhibitions. So, her father entered for her. The first mare led into the arena was the mighty Woorood, followed by the beautiful Moniet, and the fiery Zumurroda. Rose’s white made such a fine background for Moniet’s liver chestnut. The regal Zumurroda looked around and whinnied loudly. The three were regal and Aameera was proud of them.

One of Isaac’s mares, a beautiful rose gray, was led in next, named Sahara Rose. Sahara Rose had been a gift from Ivan. They presented her to him just moments before the exhibition and Ivan had entered her in the show.

King Abelardo’s jewel mare, a dark bay, and others followed. King Hafez’s dark rose gray mare Sahara Mirage was the last mare in the arena. Her bloodline produced stunning rose grays that held their rose color for a long time. Mirage was still showing much of her chestnut color, almost looking roan.

They had selected a panel of judges the day before from people attending the festival from all over the world. The judges inspected each mare with great care. They asked each mare to gallop around the arena so they could make sure that their gait was right, and nothing was amiss.

After careful observation of each mare, the judges announced their decision.

Sahara Rose Isaacs’s mare won. Moniet placed second, and Aameera was pleased with that.

“Did you know your mare, Sahara Mirror, is my mare’s sister?” Isaac asked Tammuz. “Ivan told me when he gave her to me.”

Tammuz and Isaac talked about how the mares were almost a perfect match in conformation. Knowing by now how much Tammuz loved horses, Isaac told her of his brave gray stallion that he kept with him most of the time.

King Hafez asked them both if they had gone over their mare’s lineage. Neither of them had, as the mares had been gifts and Tammuz had been extremely busy helping Aameera and Isaac had been helping Ivan.

King Hafez laughed. He told the two of them to look at the fourth mare in line, for she was their mare’s mother. It was King Hafez’s mare, Sahara Mirage. Isaac and Tammuz were thrilled. They made a time to meet and go over their mare’s pedigrees together the next day.

Once the mares finished, the brood stallions came in. They led five grand stallions into the ring. For a stallion to compete here, it must have ten champion progeny. King Hafez’s stallion, Nasr Amal, was led into the arena, followed by his formidable son, Fajera. Isaac’s riding horse, Boulad Askari’s Barake, the name meant steel warrior’s blessing, was a stunning gray stallion that Isaac went nowhere without.

They had been inseparable for nine years since Ivan had purchased him as a weanling colt in Persia. The last two were the bright bay stallion from Argentina Sailor’s Gold and the fair chestnut from Africa named Kilimanjaro.

The same judges went over the stallions that judged the mares. They had the stallions each walk, trot, and lope, then stand still. The evening sun had just set, and the sky was so beautiful.

“I love the way Kilimanjaro moves,” Ivan said. He floated effortlessly over the ground, his tiny black hooves carrying his delicate frame in perfect harmony. “I’ve already got a nice stallion band, but I am considering making an offer on the African stallion,” Ivan said.

“Good,” Aameera said. “You can sell me Sahir.”

Isaac laughed and Ivan gave him a dirty look, but Isaac still chuckled.

The judges deliberated for quite a while before they announced a tie. Nasr Amal and Fajera. Father and son dual champions, what a pleasure. Everyone congratulated King Hafez on his win and complimented his amazing stallion.

“Seriously, what do you think of Kilimanjaro, Aameera?” Ivan asked.

“He is nice, and his gait is incredible.”

Ivan sent a messenger to ask if he was for sale. The messenger returned and declared he was not for sale. He was the last foal out of the Bulgarian war stallion Black Sea that the raiders stole many years ago. That made him Moniet’s half-brother. No wonder they liked him so much.

The falconers entered the arena after the stallions had left. They put on a fantastic aerial display with their birds, huge dives, and swift turning maneuvers. The Peregrine falcons showed the most breathtaking dives. Soaring to great heights and returning to their handlers at speeds over two hundred miles per hour. The falconry display was short, and they left the arena to thunderous applause from the spectators.

Finally, the sight hounds trotted into the arena. Afghan hounds, greyhounds, Salukis, and Wolhounds. A few men entered the arena with small cages, with English hares in them. Two sight hounds ran, and they turned a hare turned loose. The dogs dashed after the rabbit. Their speed and agility were quite impressive. They caught the rabbit in seconds and returned it to their handler with it. They set each set of hounds loose to show off their agility and blinding speed.

After the agility and speed display. They set the dogs up in breeds for a conformation show. The judges were top breeders of sight hounds. A champion sire and champion dam were to be chosen from all breeds combined. Carefully going over each dog, the judges had a very hard decision before them. The champion sire was a black and white greyhound, named Anubis from Egypt, owned by the palace goldsmith. The champion dam was a red Saluki from Africa named Nairobi. She was owned by the captain of the royal guard. The sight hounds left the arena to applause from the entire crowd. “What a lovely way to end the evening,” Queen Amani declared.

“Father, we would like permission to remain in the stables tonight because of the raiders,” Aameera said.

“No,” Amani exclaimed. “It is much too dangerous.”

“If you will agree to a triple contingent around your stables,” King Hafez said, knowing his daughter’s hatred of the guards constantly watching her every move, he felt this was the easiest way to change her mind.

Aameera looked at Tammuz, her dearest friend, her sister at heart, who shared the same concern for the horses. She didn’t want that many guards but understood that her father’s concern for her and Tammuz with the raiders near was the same as their worry for the horses.

Before she could agree, Ivan spoke up. “I will send a Norse patrol with war dogs to stay outside the stable tent. With the regular guards as well, that should keep the raiders away. No one can get past the dogs when they are commanded to be on guard.”

King Hafez agreed.

Aameera did so quickly before anyone else offered any more guards!” Amani, still concerned, walked away.

“We’ll be at the tent to get you first thing in the morning to begin our preparations for the caravan trail,” Ivan said. “With your permission, King Hafez.”

“After breakfast, they may go with you, accompanied by Almasa, Abdulla, and the guards."

“Of course, sir,” Ivan said.

Isaac did not want to say good night to Tammuz. In the few hours they had been together, he knew he loved her.

Back at the royal tent, Amani went into the adjacent room and brought each of the girls a gift. She presented them with a jeweled dagger and instructed them to keep them always tied to their side while the raiders were near. Amani knew the girls could well take care of themselves in a fight and with the use of all weaponry, for she had taught them herself.

Tammuz noticed her dagger differed from Aameera’s. It was longer but had intricate scroll work from the hilt to the tip of the blade and was dual edged. The handle was inlaid with diamonds and emeralds. The top was a large pearl. Tammuz somehow felt this weapon was familiar to her.

The girls did not rush through dinner. Her father made them wait for the Norse patrol to reach the stable tent with the dogs before they could leave. Aameera sent for their Wolhound to be brought to them. They wanted the pups with them that night.

A messenger arrived and told them that the Norse patrol had set up around the front entrance of the tent. He warned them they should go in by the back entrance as the two guards at the front door had the vilest vicious looking creatures on earth with them. He said they called them bull mastiffs, but the messenger was sure they were the devil’s own creation.

The girls tied their daggers on and took their pup’s leashes to the stables and while the terrified messenger refused to go back with them, the guards accompanied them.

Aameera and Tammuz went through the front entrance unconcerned about the Norse war dogs. The enormous dogs were friendly until commanded. Aameera stopped to pet the slobbering brindle hounds, wagging and moving their bodies all over.

“We train them to attack on command,” one man said in a deep voice. Tammuz looked at him. She could not see his face, for the armored helmet he wore covered it.

“Come on, Aameera. We need to get our pups settled. Then we can groom the horses until we get sleepy. I want to talk to you about Isaac. Hurry.” The guard to her right stood up straight when she said that.

Aameera looked at him quizzically, then laughed and the girls continued into the stable tent.

Once the pups settled in, Aameera wanted to groom Bassira and get to know her a little better. The young filly was in the first stall inside the main entrance. They took their grooming tools to her stall.

Bassira like her dam, Rose loved the attention she got from anyone. Aameera was excited to travel the race trail with the Norse caravan. “I wonder why it has been so long since we.ve seen Ivan and Isaac? I really want to get to know Ivan better. He is not yet a formal suitor, but I like him the best,” she said.

The girls heard a thud from outside the main entrance and Tammuz poked her head out in time to see one guard punch the other, hence the thudding noise. The men had on helmets that obscured part of their faces and light armor.

She just shook her head and went back to Bassira’s stall. “It’s nothing. They are punching each other,” she said.

Aameera laughed until tears rolled down her face. “I wonder why men do such things?”

“It frightened me. I guess I am on edge from the raiders,” Tammuz said. Aameera, I like Isaac very much, but I am not of noble birth. We have so much in common, and I feel at peace and safe in his presence.”

Aameera took her friend’s hand. “Please don’t worry. Princes marry women not of noble birth all the time.”

“It’s not unheard of,” Tammuz whispered and smiled at the thought, yet, knowing full well that was not the truth. The girls continued to talk about Isaac and Ivan and how nice it was that they had offered to help them so they could stay with the horses this night. They both enjoyed their company and looked forward to seeing them in the morning.

The girls were sleepy much earlier than usual from the long day with the arrival of the raiders and the ordeal with Mahoubba. They bid Bassira goodnight and went to her mother’s stall. Laheeb thumped her plumed tail when she saw the girls. Inam was snoring already. The girls settled into their beds and fell fast asleep.

Near midnight, Aameera woke to a bone-chilling shriek. Tammuz screamed at the top of her lungs. The princess sat bolt up in her bed and looked for Tammuz. She was still asleep but shaking violently and crying. A nightmare! This hadn’t happened in so many years. Aameera woke her up and was trying to comfort her when the two guards from the entrance of the stable burst into the stall, dogs loose and swords drawn.

One guard dashed to Tammuz’s side and fell to his knees beside her. She screamed again, trapped in the nightmare’s web. Instinctively, she reached for the guard as she had done with King Hafez, and he held her like a child in his lap.

Tammuz sunk her face into his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. His powerful arms held her tight, trying to console her. He trembled himself from the adrenaline coursing through his body.

Aameera instructed the other guard to send for Amani at once. Aameera tried to calm Tammuz, but she couldn’t hear her. She couldn’t wake up and sobbed when Amani rushed into the stall. She sat beside the guard who held Tammuz and stroked her hair. Tammuz had not had a nightmare in nine years.

“What have you dreamed, sister? What has terrified you so?” Aameera asked.

Tammuz didn’t move from the safety of the guard’s arms, and told the story of her parents’ death, although she did not yet know it was a memory and not a nightmare.

“I dreamed I was a child, about the age of two, maybe three, and in my dream, I saw the Mesopotamian raiders ride into my father’s camp. They murdered my mother and father before my eyes. Almasa and another servant grabbed me and two other children and ran with them. Almasa found a gray mare and untied her. We got on her and fled. Before we reached the outside of the tent camps, I looked over my shoulder and saw a man on a dark horse murder the other servant and both children. That was when I screamed.”

She looked at the queen. “I’ve never been able to remember this dream until now. Why is that?”

“Maybe because you are older now.” Amani’s face was distraught and drawn. All the color had drained from her cheeks. She looked pale and anxious. Aameera dared not question her mother right now. Tammuz was still too fragile.

The guard had his head bent over Tammuz. “I will let nothing happen to you as long as I live,” he said. “I pledge my life that you will be safe.”

He sat squarely on the floor of the stall, still cradling her in his lap like he would a child. Tammuz had calmed down and thanked him as she came fully awake. She had her fingers wrapped so tight into his shirt that it left creases in the material when she calmed enough to release her grip.

Amani knew her girls were better cared for than they realized. King Hafez had given his permission for them to guard the girls and she thanked Isaac for his quick actions. She loved Tammuz like her own daughter and was not cross with him.

Tammuz reached out her hand to Aameera. She was heartbroken for her dear Tammuz. Aameera pulled her friend up to hug her and Tammuz accidentally knocked the guard’s helmet off as she was rising. The guard reached in vain for the falling helmet. It shocked the ladies to see Isaac sitting there. The guard two feet behind him removed his helmet also, revealing that he was indeed Ivan.

“We are here with your father’s permission,” Ivan said.

The princes disguised themselves as guards to make sure they were safe. King Hafez had given his permission as long as they did not enter the stable.

Tammuz looked at Aameera, shocked. Well, all her doubts about Isaac caring for her had certainly vanished now. The girls, still embracing each other, looked at the brothers.

Queen Amani thanked them both for such care of the girls. Isaac got to his feet and looked at the queen.

“I meant what I said, Your Majesty. No harm will befall her as long as I am here.”

Amani smiled, “It is a noble thing indeed,” she said, and took Isaac by the arm and led him out of the stall to talk to him.

The strange turn of events still took Aameera and Tammuz by storm. Aameera fervently hoped Tammuz’s night terrors did not come back.

Ivan could tell they were still upset. He said, “Surprise!”

It broke the spell of the nightmare. The brothers being here was surprising and outrageous and both girls burst out laughing.

Ivan explained they could not rest thinking that something may happen to them. So, they thought that the best thing would be to disguise themselves as guards, with the king’s permission.

Ivan said, “I am sorry for your nightmare, but thankful that is all it was.” He looked around for the war dogs they were sleeping with the Wolhound pups.

Outside the stall, Amani thanked Isaac for his care and concern for Tammuz. “I will not hold you to the vow you made. Tense times sometimes bring forth reactions we later regret,” she said.

Isaac looked into the queen’s eyes and said, “I’ll keep my vow, Your Majesty, I…” he stammered. “I love her.”

Amani smiled. “I thought as much,” she said.

“We’ll return to our posts now,” Isaac said.

Amani sent a messenger to the king to let him know of Tammuz’s nightmare and that she would remain in the stable with the girls. Ivan and Isaac took the war dogs and returned to their post at the entrance.

Amani knew the truth would soon have to be told, but not until Tammuz’s twenty-first birthday. By then, she hoped Tammuz could cope with the harsh reality. There was too much going on now. There was no reason to ruin the festivities and celebrations for the girls. Even though it was a time soon approaching, she would not risk spoiling the race by telling her the truth. She tucked the girls back in and sang songs to them as she had done for them in their early childhood till they drifted back off to sleep. Then she lay down beside them to sleep as well.

The sun was full on the horizon when the girls awoke. Amani had already gone to see to breakfast and told Ivan and Isaac to bring the girls when they awoke.

Tammuz felt terrible and looked pale. She was weak from the dream and her fear was so great. Aameera helped her get up. As they left the stall, the princes entered the stable.

“Your mother requested we escort you to breakfast,” Ivan said.

The girls said their morning prayers as Ivan and Isaac waited respectfully silent before they set off for the royal tent and breakfast.

Amani and Hafez had it ready and waiting for the four of them when they got there. King Hafez thanked Ivan and Isaac for seeing to the girl’s safety and they all ate a hearty breakfast and talked over the preparations for the race.

“You can rest here after breakfast since you have been up all night,” King Hafez said. “The Queen and I are going to spend some time with the girls.”

King Hafez showed them to the tent, and Amani took the girls to prepare their clothes for their trip. Attendants brought in huge leather trunks for each of the girls to place their clothes in. Amani sent a messenger to the palace the day before to return with some of the girl’s favorite clothing and their riding tack. Amani helped them pick out clothes and fold them.

Their tack they placed in the Turkish tack trunks that Amani had bought for them at the marketplace. They talked of who might win the race with no mention of the night before. There were many fine racers from all over the world. King Hafez’s fine racers, Ivan’s six powerful stallions, Isaac’s red mare Anide. She was swift and intelligent. King Abelardo had several fine racers entered, including his Egyptian mare Anadil, whose name meant nightingale. The Argentine favorite was a fleet little bay filly named Amazonia, and the polish favorite was the Conqueror. The Scottish Lockwood family entered Queen Angela’s prize and famed velvet dapple gray filly, Aiden’s Lullaby, and possibly two others. Yet there were many, many more racers.

By the time they finished packing their clothes. It had been hours. They started on the few belongings they wished to take and Aameera suggested that when Ivan and Isaac joined them, they head for the marketplace to buy more things for the journey. They would need certain supplies that they did not have with them.

“Will we take Laheeb and Inam with us?” Tammuz asked.

“I see no reason the pups should stay at the palace without us, so they should go,” Aameera said.

Amani started writing a list of things that the girls would need. She was nervous. This was not their first trip away from home, but it was the first time alone on the race trail, and there was the constant threat of the raiders. Amani tried to shake the bone-chilling memories that rose with the bile in her throat. Until last night, long since buried in her heart.

Almasa was helping prepare the girl’s things for the race, and she muttered, “If they were my children, they would never leave the safety of the palace. How irresponsible to allow them to go.”

Already stressed from the fear of the raiders and the girls going on the race trail, Amani snapped. She wheeled and struck Almasa right on the cheek. Almasa stumbled backward with the blow and stood shocked at the queen’s behavior.

Aameera and Tammuz were on the other side of the tent. Amani’s actions startled them. Never in their near twenty-one years had they even seen Amani angry, let alone lay a hand on anyone. A stern rebuke from her would always do what was necessary. Aameera started to say something to her mother but thought better of it and snapped her mouth shut.

Amani stood square in front of Almasa. Her fists clenched, eyes squinted, and her jaw tightened in rage. “How dare you speak out against my husband’s judgment? They are not your children, they are mine, and therefore their wellbeing and care are, as always, left up to the king and me,” she hissed. “If you dare question anything concerning my children ever again, I will have your head for it, Almasa. Do you understand me?”

Almasa bowed before the queen and begged her forgiveness. “I meant nothing by my comments, Your Majesty. I humbly beg your forgiveness.”

Amani said nothing. She looked at the girls and turned and stormed out of the tent.

Aameera and Tammuz rushed to Almasa’s side once Amani was gone. Almasa just told the girls that they should finish getting ready for their departure. She refused their comfort. A bit confused, the girls quietly finished packing their belongings.

Later that afternoon, Amani returned with Ivan and Isaac. They had Laheeb and Inam with them. Almasa bowed and Amani dismissed her. Amani was still furious with her. She did not even want her in her sight.

Laheeb bounded to Aameera and jumped on her. Aameera hugged her precious dog.

“You need to get to the marketplace and get your supplies.” Amani hugged Tammuz and Aameera. “I am sorry for losing my temper in front of you. She had no right to question our decision.”

“Are you ready to go? We still have to decide which riding mounts we are bringing,” Isaac said, always the bold brother.

Tammuz and Aameera were glad to go to the marketplace. It was a pleasant distraction from the impossible tension building at home. Once they were on their way, Tammuz breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are you feeling alright?” Isaac asked.

She nervously looked at Aameera, who explained what had happened between Almasa and Amani.

Ivan said, “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, girls. Let’s go have some fun shopping and forget about everything for a while.”

“That sounds like the best idea I have heard all day,” Aameera said.

They laughed and watched the pups play in the long grass as they walked toward the market.

Isaac and Tammuz went over their mares’ bloodlines. They were, in fact, full sisters one year apart in age. Their sire was the great Nasr. The bold gray racer of the king’s and Fajera’s sire as well.

At a vendor from Belgium, the sweet scent of chocolate and tempting confections filled the air. The girls bought a quantity of this candy called fudge.

Aameera had the vendor write the recipe, and she purchased in bulk what they would need to make their own, as she was sure her mother and father would love it as well. Isaac walked to an adjacent booth while the others were buying candy and bought Tammuz an enormous bouquet of fragrant lilies. He brought them to her just as they were having the fudge supplies sent back to the royal tents.

“They’re beautiful, I love them. Thank you very much,” she told him with glowing eyes.

Aameera saw her eyes had their sparkle back for the first time since the dream and was happy that Tammuz was forgetting that awful dream.

Ivan excitedly talked about the race trail. “I am sure Sahir will win,” he said.

Aameera smiled. “I bet Isra will give Sahir a good race.” She had never seen Sahir run and although she loved the stallion, a great deal, she couldn’t help picturing Isra’s ground eating strides.

They continued across the marketplace, talking and stopping here and there just to look. From India, they bought spices, tea from Africa, sugar from South America, and foods from all over the world. They enjoyed the apples and fruit, and they bought them in quantity for the race trail.

Aameera stopped by a jeweler’s tent. She bought a jade necklace for her mother and matching sapphire necklaces for her and Tammuz. It was a big tent, and they roamed around. There were so many sparkling gems to gaze upon.

Tammuz admired a beautiful ring with an amber colored stone. The topaz stone was the size of a thumbnail with sparkling diamonds on either side of it. The color of this stone drew her, and she admired it on her hand, but smiled and walked away. There was no need for her to buy such an extravagant ring for herself.

Ivan and Isaac bought some daggers with fine jewels on the handles and cases. Ivan was looking at the swords, and Isaac walked away. The girls left the tent and Aameera handed Tammuz her necklace.

“I love it. Thank you, Aameera.”

Aameera would have bought her three to see that look in her eyes and on her face after last night.

Ivan and Isaac soon followed and showed them the daggers and swords they had purchased. Isaac had a huge smile on his face.

The textile tents from all over the world had such fine fabrics and clothing. They each bought new clothes and new fabric to make clothes out of. Tammuz called Aameera over to look at the colors of velvet. What wonderful material. You could make so much out of this. Aameera bought all of it and all the velvet the vendors had. She sent it all back to the royal tents with attendants. She checked over the list her mother had written to ensure that she had everything that they needed.

At a Turkish booth, they found fine large leather containers for water, the small group bought ten of these. They would be wonderful for watering the horses.

On the other side of the Turkish booth, there was a middle-aged Mesopotamian man selling slaves. Aameera was infuriated and none of them could stop her.

“This is forbidden in Shaarahnil,” she shouted at the vendor and kept walking directly toward him. Aameera, surrounded by guards, her treasurer, and Ivan on her right explained that people were not sold in this kingdom.

“Princess,” his eyes rocked back and for looking at the royal entourage, this is how I make my living,” he said.

He had twenty-five people and so as not to offend the vendor and start a war, she paid for each of them. The vendor thanked her, but she warned him. “We welcome everyone to Shaarahnil, especially this time of year,” she said. “We look forward to seeing you again next year at the Wadi, but next year, bring horses or cattle, perhaps even sheep or goats. Herding dogs to work the flocks are also always high in demand,” she said.

“If you show up with human chattel next year, I will have your head. So, the choice is yours.”

The vendor’s eyes darted back and forth. “Th… Thank you, Your Majesty. I will do as you ask.”

Aameera consulted her treasurer and then handed the man an enormous purse and he looked at her, astonished.

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing. “You have overpaid—”

“This Kuadra is to help you start on your new journey. That should buy you herds or flocks and land for them. There is land around Shaarahnil,” she said. “We would gladly welcome you to live here with us.”

The man raised his head, in tears as he thanked her. “Your family’s generosity is legendary, but I had never expected this.”

“Not so generous to forget if we find you with slaves in our kingdom again.” She smiled at him. “If you decide to call our kingdom your new home, please let us know if we may help you any further,” she said to him.

“I will,” he said.

She turned and faced the slaves she had just purchased from Kuadra. The people stood looking at the ground.

“You are free now,” Aameera said. “The servants and staff we employ are hired workers with homes of their own. We pay them fairly and we will hire anyone who wishes to work in the palace or the palace stables and teach them a trade of their choosing.”

Ivan stood close as did the guards. Aameera, Princess or not had just freed twenty-five slaves and threatened to behead a vendor. They looked at her in amazement, as did he.

She spoke to them, but it was as if they didn’t understand. Each one agreed to stay with the royal family. Aameera instructed her treasurer to provide coins to staff to take each of the freed people and buy them food and new clothes and necessities in that order.

“I have sent someone back to put up a tent for them and a bathing tent for them. You are to take them back there and see that they have eaten, bathed, and want for nothing.”

“We… we have no way to repay you.”

Ameera looked at him. “Your life will be different now. There is no need to repay me. Repayment is not expected nor desired. You are free people and now under my care. From this day forth you will be part of the Shaarahnil family.”

One Egyptian girl fell to her knees and asked if she could stay with Aameera to be one of her attendants. She looked to be about the same age as Aameera and Tammuz and had been ill-treated. Her hair was matted and filthy and she had old clothes that fell in tatters. They had captured her near the Nile River when she was young. Captured or maybe sold. She didn’t really remember.

Aameera said, “I would be overjoyed.”

Tammuz began speaking to her and took over for Aameera. The young girl said her name was Yatimah meaning orphan, and she was to turn twenty-one the next month. She had always worked in the fields harvesting grain and such, yet each year when the harvest was over, they sold the slaves to not have to keep them over the winter.

“You are our sister now, never again will you know the pain of the sun while toiling in a field,” Aameera said.

They bought her new clothes, a hairbrush, and necessities. Aameera sent the princes in opposite directions and Ivan returned with a meal and tea to drink. Isaac returned with some jewelry for her and at Aameera’s request a sapphire necklace like the ones she and Tammuz wore.

The girl, dirty and disheveled sobbed. Tammuz hugged her and said, “Yatimah you are our sister now.” Once she had eaten, they found a place to clean up and change into her new clothes. A little olive oil softened her hair, and it loosened the tangles. It smoothed her skin, and the bath helped her feel better.

“You are remarkably beautiful,” Tammuz pronounced when they had finished.

They took her hands, and the three girls sang as they walked along through the marketplace.

“They are remarkable, aren’t they?” Ivan said to his brother.

“I am going to marry her,” Isaac said. “I will let nothing deter me.”

Ivan stared at his brother. “I have known I wanted to marry Aameera for many years. Maybe… Give yourself more time,” Ivan suggested.

“I know what is in my heart,” Isaac said and walked away.

Tammuz wanted to go look at the exotic animals for sale. They bought Yatimah a Saluki pup so she could have a dog as well and Yatimah named her Wadi after the race that had brought her to this area and saved her life.

A vendor from Egypt recognized Aameera. “Hello,” he called. “Please come here, Princess.”

The group walked over. “Here, this is a gift for you.” He handed her a beautiful brindle Afghan puppy. “Her name is Princess,” he said and laughed at his little joke.

“Thank you,” Aameera said. “Ivan, isn’t this the breed you liked with their long silky fur?”

“Yes, it is.” He bought a fawn male pup from the vendor.

They looked at cheetah cubs, watching them play. “When we move into our palace,” Aameera said. “I would like to get a Cheetah for hunting.”

Isaac let out a startled yell. They jumped and spun around. Isaac was standing there with his shirt half off over his head. His arms caught in the sleeves, and he was in a bind. Everyone around them was laughing. Tammuz had fallen to her knees laughing so hard for the other part of Isaac’s shirt was in the mouth of an Akal Teke mare.

“How incredible these Norse racehorses are,” Aameera declared.

Isaac didn’t want to pull off his shirt, but he could not just stand there like a puppet for this jester of a mare.

Ivan regained a bit of composure and helped his brother. Isaac turned around to scold the mare, and she reached out and took a hold of the bottom of his shirt again. She had her ears up and her eyes sparkled like the stars over the pyramids.

Isaac took a step away from her she still had his shirt tail in her mouth she slung her head up and down playfully. Isaac pulled his shirt away from her and attempted to walk away.

She reached out and put her muzzle softly on his shoulder and wiggled her top lip back and forth. He just couldn’t rid himself of this clown of a mare. Isaac turned to face her, and she stuck her nose right to his looking at him. He took a step back, and she whinnied loudly. He looked at her sternly for a moment and hugged the big metallic chestnut mare. She wrapped her head lovingly around him.

Everyone was still laughing at how silly the mare was. Her owner told Isaac that she loved to play with anyone who would take the time to get close to her and she made a game of everything. When Isaac turned loose of the mare and went to walk away the big chestnut walked with him. She had decided that she belonged to Isaac.

Her owner tried to put her back in the stall, but she would have none of it. She did not want to leave Isaac. So, he surrendered to fate and bought her. He renamed her Storhund meaning big dog in the Norse language.

They walked around looking at more of the animals, Storhund keeping the edge of Isaac’s shirt in her mouth like a little puppy being led around. They bought supplies for the Wolhound and Afghan pups. Isaac bought very large toys for Storhund because he knew she would not be content in a stall by herself.

Her former owner ran up to them with the big mare’s paperwork and documents. She nuzzled his cheek but went back to playing with Isaac’s shirt. “The mare is with foal. Just what I need,” Isaac said. “Two big clowns, hopefully, the foal will take after its mother.” He adored her and was happy she had reached out to him.

Isaac went to a textile tent with Storhund in tow. He purchased a fresh shirt which he changed into giving the big mare the one he was wearing. She flipped it around like a banner. What a sight they were to see the five of them walking through the marketplace with a huge chestnut mare prancing and flinging a shirt around behind them.

They came across a vendor selling foreign battle horses. These animals did not have the swift look of Arabian horses and they didn’t have the remarkable build of the Marwari. The horses resembled a draft horse in the swell of deep defined muscle, broad shoulders, and huge rears. Their jaws were round and bulging, tiny ears and beautiful eyes, heavy boned and tiny compact hooves. Their coats showed a myriad of colors. Some were solid, some were spotted, and some were painted as horses from Spain.

“They are Roman war horses. Each horse is highly skilled and trained in battle, but also safe enough to be a riding horse,” the vendor explained.

Ivan and Isaac were in love with them. There were mares and stallions both. They bought them all and had them sent to their tents. One stallion Ivan was especially eager to ride. He was black and white, and his colors ran into each other like many rivers into the land.

Ivan jumped up on his back and loped him around in a circle. “It is quite a feeling, being part of all that power,” Ivan said, smiling. “What’s his name?” he asked.

“Impressive Revelation,” the vendor said.

“He is that!” Ivan said and let the stud go with the attendant back to the tents.

They finished their shopping and purchased Yatimah a saddle, tack, and costume for the horse she was going to get. Aameera felt so sorry for her, she wanted Yatimah to have one of the beautiful well-bred mares she had just purchased.

Yatimah said, “It is too much. I feel off balance and fearful because I don’t know what to do. Please just let me slow down.”

Storhund invented a new game when they were out of the marketplace. She was flipping her shirt around when she lost her grip on it, and it flew. Laheeb bounded after it and she went racing back to the mare with the shirt in her mouth. Storhund bolted into a lively trot snorting with her head in the air and tail flying with Laheeb behind still holding the shirt in her mouth.

Everyone laughed again, even Yatimah.

Isaac called to the mare, and she stopped and looked at them. Laheeb sat down in front of Storhund and barked. The mare reached down and picked up the shirt and began playing with it again. She tossed it out once more and Laheeb fetched the shirt and brought it back to the chestnut mare. The horse didn’t run away this time. The two played a game of fetch all the way back to the royal tents. Wadi and Inam even joined in the game. Everyone was cheerful and laughing the whole walk back to the stable tents.

“What a wonderful day this turned out to be,” Tammuz whispered to her sister.

Amani and a group of attendants were outside the tent watching them approach, Storhund playing with the pups behind them. They were all laughing too. It was not anything new for a horse to be playing with a dog, but it was funny to see the way the four animals were playing together.

“Lunch is ready,” Amani announced. “Time for rest once you have eaten.”

They assigned an attendant to Storhund to take her to Aameera’s stable tent and find a suitable companion for her. She trotted happily along beside the attendant with Laheeb at her side.

“Well,” Aameera remarked. “I guess your horse has taken my dog, Isaac.” They chuckled as they watched the dog and horse disappearing into the stable tent.

King Hafez joined them for lunch. “I am proud of you, Aameera. You did a fine job and a very noble thing today. Kuadra sought me out and told me the entire story. He apologized and asked for my help to secure a herd and land. I sent my attendant to help him.”

Tammuz introduced King Hafez and Queen Amani to Yatimah as they sat down to eat. Aameera told her mother about the materials they had acquired from the marketplace. She presented them with the fudge and Amani with the jade necklace.

Isaac said, “I bought a gift too,” and presented King Hafez with a jeweled sword he had purchased for him. The hilt and handle were gold with inlaid sapphires, rubies, and emeralds. The sheath was gold and had the same gemstones and the tip of the sheath was coated in diamond dust.

“It was a wonderful afternoon,” Tammuz said.

Yatimah felt uncomfortable sitting at the table with the royal family. She was used to sitting in the dirt.

Queen Amani reached for her hand, and the young girl shied away. “You will be like one of my daughters, now and you should feel at ease. Eat all you wish and please join in the conversations.”

Yatimah couldn’t answer and wept. Queen Amani told her she should neither fear nor want for anything in this household. Yatimah bowed her head and thanked them all.

“After lunch, I’m going to take Yatimah to my stable tent and let her choose a mare out of my new purchases,” Aameera said.

King Hafez smiled. “My generous daughter, I have been assigning attendants for your journey, only the most trusted will go. I noticed Almasa is absent for lunch,” he said.

“She is making herself scarce. She thinks Mother is angry with her, and I am afraid she is resentful of her treatment,” Aameera said.

“She did not say a word all afternoon,” Tammuz said.

“It will be fine,” King Hafez said, and to change the subject he asked if they would like to hear the legend of Shaheen.

“I would love to hear it,” Ivan said. “I wondered how the mare became so terribly scarred.”

Hafez cleared his throat, and his eyes took on an expression Aameera did not often see as he remembered. “A long time ago, a finely bred filly from King Sadakat’s stable was gifted to my first cousin and lifelong best friend, Rabbani. King Sadakat was my father, and he has been gone these many years, and Shaheen’s breeding remained a mystery until we were old enough to study the breeding records. Her breeding is of a purebred wild line of the Ghost Herd near the Mediterranean Sea. No one knew about the capture of breeding stock from the Ghost Herd for many years. That blood is ancient, and the wild herds are strong and uncommonly intelligent. Shaheen’s dam was captured already in foal with Shaheen.

“The gifted filly was a valuable horse because of her breeding and one day while Rabbani and I were children, we were playing outdoors. A cobra approached unseen and Shaheen stomped the cobra to death, saving our lives. This was her first act of bravery, which was to be revealed many times throughout her life.

“Once, in the night a lamp started a stable fire. Shaheen drug the stable attendant from the stable who had passed out from the smoke freeing the horses. She continued and freed the last four remaining stalled horses by kicking down the stalls and making such a noise that people noticed the stable was on fire.

“When she was a three-year-old, Rabbani’s family was traveling back along a trade caravan route from Egypt. Hafez and Rabbani had crossed the Nile ahead of the others. Rabbani lost his seat as Shaheen climbed the bank and he fell below her, rolling back to the river. Shaheen stopped in mid-stride and wheeled to go get him.

“As she reached Rabbani, so did a crocodile. Shaheen savagely fought the crocodile for Rabbani’s life. The crocodile bit her on her head and the last time it did not let go of her jaw and bridge of her nose. She then beat it to death against rocks along the bank. The crocodile had badly wounded Shaheen, but Rabbani had not a scratch. They treated her with Egyptian salves, and she healed quickly but carried scars from her fight and the crescent moon scar on her jaw from the croc’s bottom teeth.

“They rewarded her when she recovered with freedom. She could roam anywhere she pleased, but she was never far from Rabbani. Even though he was a young man at the time of the crocodile attack, Shaheen still watched over him.

“Shaheen proved her dauntless courage and intelligence time and time again in battles against the raiders. Rabbani could trust her to protect any rider with her life. She had barely missed death a few times herself and carried the spear glances on her shoulder and a scar from a sword thrust on her belly.

“At four they bred her for the first time. She produced a fine strong filly, who proved as courageous as Shaheen herself. As a four-year-old, she was already legendary for her catlike reflexes in dodging a hurling spear or crouching in a split second to get her and Rabbani out of the way of a flying arrow. Rabbani told stories of her ripping a bridle off a raider’s horse while Rabbani and the raider were engaged in hand to hand combat. She had a keen sense of impending danger, and he could not risk his beloved Shaheen on the battlefield any longer, so he retired her as a broodmare.”

King Hafez paused and sat back.

“Oh yes, by then her bravery was legendary, and the raiders wanted her. By the time she was thirteen years old, Shaheen had ten fillies, she often had twins. They proved to be as fine as their matriarch. With these offspring, and their offspring the Shaheen line was proven, and she became the matriarch of a new female line of Arabian horses. It was that year, the raiders attacked my uncle’s estate. They killed the royal family and stole the horses, Shaheen being one of them. Rabbani lived because the king had asked him to bring Shaheen’s offspring and their foals to the palace at Shaarahnil for evaluation. Rabbani died four years ago, but it would honor him to know that you own his precious Shaheen and her line.”

Aameera, Tammuz, Ivan, Isaac, and Yatimah sat in silence listening to the stories of the courageous mare, Shaheen. Aameera turned to Yatimah. “I am gifting you a gray of the Shaheen line."

“I… I could not accept such an honor.”

“It is an honor to give you such a beautiful mare. You are no longer a slave my child, you are part of our Shaarahnil family.”

Tammuz grabbed her hand and said, “It is a grand family to be a part of. They are the kindest and most noble people you could ever hope to meet.”

Yatimah smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. She guessed she would have to get used to being treated well. “I feel like a princess,” she said.

The three girls went with Amani to the stables and the princes’ stayed with King Hafez to discuss their trip on the race trail. They said that they would join the girls to select the riding mounts.

“I would like for you to ride with the girls, and I do not want them far from you at any time. I have assigned a handpicked group of guards to see to their protection. They are to ride with them during the day and camp around their tent at night to see that no one enters.”

Ivan offered Norse guards, but the king interrupted. “It is a gracious gesture, but these men have my utmost confidence.”

Hafez was anxious about their safety. The raiders were murderous thieves that showed no mercy. At least with his personal guard, King Hafez would know the men that were guarding his daughter.

King Hafez sketched out for the princes how the tents were to be set up each evening. There was to be a servant’s tent between the prince’s tent and the princesses. “I gave strict orders that under no circumstances after dusk was anyone to go near the girls. If they did, the guards had orders to kill. “If someone approached Aameera’s tent wearing your clothes, it would be deadly for my daughter.”

Ivan understood and said nothing, but Isaac said, “It will be hard not to go to Tammuz if something happens, just because it is dark.” He apologized for his outburst, but his heart thudded with worry.

King Hafez laughed. He understood all too well Isaac’s feelings. He had spent the better part of the morning fighting off the urge to go along with them. Before King Hafez could say another word, Isaac pulled the topaz and diamond ring out of his pocket. The exact one Tammuz had admired that morning at the jeweler’s booth. He showed it to the king and asked his permission to marry Tammuz.

“I want to ask her after the Wadi Race,” he said.

Amani told Hafez about her talk with Isaac, so this had not come as a surprise to him. He gave Isaac his blessing but reminded him she could not marry until she had turned twenty-one. Isaac and Ivan both knew it was customary for the family histories to be revealed to the people of this area when they turned twenty-one.

“I don’t mind waiting. I love her,” Isaac said.

After their talk, the princes set out to join the girls at the stable tent. The departure for the Wadi was the next morning.