"The Curse of Higuchi, Part 1"
By L. Crystal Michallet-Romero
Disclaimers:
Xena Warrior Princess, its characters, and all related materials are the property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. The other characters are mine. Like the show, I am playing around with the historical time lines. Any similarities or resemblances of any character(s) in this story to anyone in real life, either living or dead, are purely coincidental!
Violence Warning: There will be acts of violence in this story. At least one person is going to die.
Credits: As always, at the top of my list is a big thank you to my wife. She now realizes I am taking great liberty with her Moroccan heritage, physical description and mannerism and she doesn't seem mind. Next, this is for Scotty. Thanks for still hanging around to check up on me from time to time. Your human form is dearly missed, but your constant antics never fail to keep me amused.
Author's Comment: This story was inspired by a short story that I wrote after FIN.
Historical Note: Islam has existed in Morocco since c. 685. Morocco has been a governing country since c. 788. The traveler Abu Abdullah Muhammad Ibn Battuta was not born until 1304, and did not begin his travel until 1325.
Copyright © July 1, 2001 All Rights Reserved
Comments, feedback, and constructive criticism may be sent to lcmichallet@charani.org. Thank you.
Begin, Part 1
The stillness along the countryside sent an eerie chill through the crew. For nearly two days they had journeyed along the coast of Japa, looking for any signs of life. The ports that were thriving only a year ago were now silent and empty. The only sounds that echoed off of the mountains were the sounds of the predatory birds.
Zara heard the soft whispers of her crew as they rounded the bend. "Allah preserve us!" their voices were barely audible as the site of Higuchi came into view. Zara ignored their words as she moved closer to the railing. Without glancing at her second in command, she reached out and was immediately handed a seeing glass. Holding it up to her eye, she focused the view and began to inspect the site before her.
The once populous town had been laid in ruin. Although there were no signs of a fire, the scent of smoldering ashes and burnt flesh still lingered in the air. Zara crinkled her nose up as the scent mixed with human decay. Focusing in on the city, she noticed the slight movements near the ashes of the buildings. Like walking dead, they moved silently over the rubble, each glancing on the ground and moving in silence. As she moved the seeing glass over the scene, she noticed an unusual site. Standing near the shore was a woman who did not belong in Japa. Deep in thought over this new discovery, Zara lowered the glass and handed it to her second in command. She moved away from the railing as her mind raced over the situation.
‘This is not going to be a good trading journey,’ she thought as she unconsciously rubbed her chin with her fingers, a habit she picked up from her father and emulated like her brothers. Whenever a stressful situation arose, her father would contemplate the incident in silence. His calm demeanor was enhanced by his thoughtful motions of stroking his beard. Although she did not have a beard, like her father or brothers, Zara found the habit to be relaxing and that is what she needed in order to think through this new problem. Calmness in the face of the unknown had always pulled her through, she reasoned as she turned to look back at the shore.
She turned to glance at her officers. One by one, they took the glass and viewed the scene. Abu, her second, maintained a stoic expression. No one on board would be able to detect his apprehension except Zara. Having known him for so long, Zara could tell his fears by looking into his eyes. For a moment, they passed their silent communication to each other before returning their attention to the shore. The junior seamen’s gazes and words did not bother to mask their fears. Filled with superstitions and tales of the unknown they each began to mutter amongst themselves.
"Ghosts!"
"This placed is cursed!"
"Why is a white ghosts here in Japa?!"
"It is an ill omen!"
Their voices rose to a controlled whisper.
"Abu, ready a boat," she ordered as she moved to her cabin. She did not have to look back. She knew her orders were being followed even before her sentence was finished. Even though the crews muttered their concern, she knew that Abu would have everything ready.
Zara entered her cabin. In an unconscious manner, she removed the ships scrolls and placed them in an area where they would be easily found. She went to the large cabinet and opened the heavy door. Within it, she removed her scimitar and belt. As she fastened it around her waist, she removed various items that she thought might be needed. When she was well armed, she grabbed her heavy cloak and wrapped it over her shoulders. She felt the weight of the fabric cling to her shoulders as she fastened the top loops.
Unlike her crew, she was accustomed to wearing clothes from many regions. For today, as she did not know what she was walking into, a heavy, durable cloak might protect her from any enemies, she absently thought as she buried away any superstitious thoughts to the back of her mind. No amount of weapondary would protect her from the ghosts they spoke of, she decided as she secured her weapons.
When she was ready, Zara moved in quick strides. She never spared a moment to look at her cabin. If the fears of the men were correct, her belongings would not matter. Nothing would matter except the survival of her ship and it’s crew. As she moved to the boat, she noticed Abu’s hand picked men. Each of them was the strongest and bravest fighters that her country had produce. With an approving nod, she glanced at Abu. When she saw him moving to enter the boat, she raised her hand.
"You cannot go, my friend," her voice was a soft order.
"My captain!" He began to protest. With a slight smile she cupped his muscular shoulder and shook her head negatively. "No, my friend. You must remain here. If for some reason we don’t return …" she hesitated a moment as she tried to word her order. Abu nodded understanding as he maintained a stoic expression.
"Understood," was all he said as his brows furrowed in concern. "What…" he hesitated for a moment, "What will I tell your father?"
Zara smiled as she tilted her head in thought. Looking into the dark eyes, she only said, "Tell my father that I am with Allah, should I not return." She answered with a confident smile. Looking deeply into her eyes, he could see her own masked fears, yet chose not to comment. Instead, he nodded understanding of his orders, then turned and barked orders to the men remaining on ship.
"Can I come?!" an impish voice sounded over the men’s voices. Glancing down, Zara smiled as she watched the cabin girl push her way through the throng of men. "I want to go! Please!" She begged as she tried to make her way past her. Quicker than the child, she reached out and grabbed a hold of the little one’s shirt.
"Hold on, Nadrah," Zara was able to keep her laughter in check. "You cannot go with us."
"Why not?" the little girls voice asked as her eyes pleaded her case. Glancing at Abu, Zara caught his smiled before he turned away from them. "Because, Nadrah," Zara began to explain as she knelt down to eye level with the child, "I need you to stay here with Abu and the men. Who else will be able to help them but you! You know my habits, my routines, you can help Abu return home safely, should anything happen to me." She tried to reason with the little one. At her words, the small dark eyes began to mists. With a gentle smile, Zara patted the child’s head. "But we will return, do not worry little one, we will all return! But you still cannot go with us, Captain’s orders." Zara’s voice changed to one of authority as she rose to her full height. At her words, the child stood tall and she nodded acceptance.
"Allah be with you!" the little voice tried in vain to conceal her sorrow as she stood by Abu. In unison, the crew echoed the child’s words as Zara entered the boat with the waiting men. With a confident nod, Zara turned from the ship and waited as the ropes lowered them to the rocking waves below.
In silence, the men rowed their way over the crashing waves. As if in a trance, they maintained their silence as the distant shores grew close. Zara took a moment to look back and saw a tiny figure waving at them. With an inward smile, Zara returned her gaze to the upcoming shores.
As the waves rolled over the boat, she felt the familiar thud of the sandy embankment. In unison, the men lifted their oars and replaced them in the boat before jumping into the icy cold water. As they heaved the boat to shore, Zara jumped from the boat into the shallow water. She held back her senses of the chilling waters and moved swiftly to the dry shore. The sand crunched below her feet as the scent of ashes wafted toward her. Without looking behind her, she felt her men protectively moving to surround her. Alert to anything that may appear, they gazed over the nearby trees as they walked to the place where the dock once stood. From the corner of her eye she saw the white woman on the shore move toward them.
Zara glanced around the scene. She saw the people moving in the distance but could not hear any sounds except that of the waves hitting the shores. The stench of death wafted in the air and hung over the once vibrant town. As the hairs on the back of her neck rose, she looked away and glanced up at a distant mountain that had been charred on the eastern side.
"Hello," the woman’s voice cut through her silent thoughts. Zara felt her men circle her protectively as they shielded her from this woman. Although the men did not understand the woman’s dialect, Zara was able to understand the woman’s Greek dialect.
As Zara’s mind raced over a myriad of possibilities with regard to the townsfolk, she looked down at the smaller woman. She noticed the travel worn boots, dirt stained pants and wrinkled tunic under a light weight coat. With a satchel on her back and carrying a tightly wrapped bundle, the woman stood with arms outstretched as she attempted to show Zara’s men that she meant no harm. At the sight of the various weapons on her body, Zara’s eyes returned to the woman’s face.
Hardly older than herself, the woman appeared to have experience much for her years. Zara noticed that the dark circles under her eyes enhanced the sadness, which was embedded within her eyes. Her hair, the color of the morning sun, was disheveled and covered with a fine dust of dirt. In a matter of moments, Zara had assessed the woman’s condition before returning her attention back to the city dwellers.
"P-Please," the soft voice pleaded, "You are the first ship to come to shore. No other ship will come close. Please, I’ve traveled a great distance… I … need a ride," the woman’s voice was soft and pleading. "I-I have money, I can pay!" she added as she reached under her coat. At her sudden move and not understanding her words, Zara’s men drew their weapons as their ranks grew tighter. Seeing the danger she was in, the golden haired woman moved slowly as she removed a small satchel. "I can pay," was all she said as she held out the bag, glancing at the men cautiously.
Zara gave an assenting nod to one of her crewman when he look to her for instructions. He carefully reached out and took the bag from the woman. With eyes on her, he shook the bag, and then warily opened it. Turning slightly, he poured the coins into his palm to show Zara.
"I can pay for passage," the woman’s voice was calm as she made eye contact with Zara. "I can pay… passage, to Potadea, do you know where Potadea is? Greece? Amphipolis?" She asked. Then, in an attempt to cross the language barrier, she pointed to their ship, then to herself. "Take me, please!" her request was a whispered plea.
Zara’s men did not understand this woman’s words, yet at her request, a few inhaled deeply. Zara could almost sense their instant fears as they each contemplated what the rest of the crew had been muttering on deck. Even though she looked real, to them, they would always wonder if she was a cursed ghost.
Zara knew that she should have turned away. She should have taken her ship and sailed as far away from this village as possible, leaving this woman behind. Instead, she looked back up at the fallen village. She could feel the coolness of the sea brush pass through her long hair. That feeling of uneasiness never left her as she assessed the situation and thought over her options. If there was any idea of leaving this woman behind, it all left when she looked down and gazed into the woman’s sad, green eyes.
This woman, for whatever reason, was in the middle of trouble. Zara could tell from her expression that something very badly had happened to her. It was because of this that Zara gave an assenting nod to her men. Without saying a word, she turned and walked back to the boat. Zara was not certain if ghosts existed, nor was she all together certain that they did not. Her mind reasoned that they did not exist, but the hairs that stood on the back of her neck convinced her that further investigation of the village would not be wise.
In silence she went to the boat and waited as her men readied their oars. Without a single word, the smaller woman managed to find a space for herself and her belongings. Zara asked no questions, nor made any mention that she understood the woman’s dialect. Instead, she planned on observing this woman in hopes that the mystery of Japa would be uncovered.
As the boat was brought onto the ship, Zara disembarked and walked toward her cabin. Abu stood waiting by the cabin entrance. At his silent question, Zara nodded as she looked back down at their new guest.
"Set sails, Abu, we’re going home."
"I anticipated that, we will clear the cove soon," he responded.
As she cast her glance over her crew, she noticed their reaction to the white woman. When they saw the new addition, they moved back, afraid that she was evil. Some muttered under their voices, some gave the sign to protect them from the evil eye, and others simply stated what was on everyone’s mind.
"She is a curse!" the whispered accusations flew over the deck.
Abu waited patiently as he glanced at their arrival. "This may cause problems," he stated as he turned to her.
"We will drop her off at the nearest working port. There will be no problems," Zara’s firm voice bespoke her resolve, as she took the pouch from one her men. "Have Mansur clear the secondary cabin for our… guest," she ordered as made her way to her cabin.
Zara ignored her men as she moved up the cabin steps. From behind her, the woman called out, "Hey!" At her word, Zara turned, tilted her head and looked down at the smaller woman.
"Do you have a name?" she asked, "Name? My name is Gabrielle," she said as she pointed to herself. "Gabrielle." She slowly reitereated.
Zara nodded and slightly bowed her head.
"Azzah al-Zarqa’ al-Agadir bint Majnun ibn Sayyar al-Hallaj abd Allah," Zara introduced herself. Inwardly, she was pleased by the surprised expression on the woman’s face. Without saying another word, Zara turned and made her way into her cabin.
~~~~~~
Gabrielle knew that this was going to be a long trip. Ever since arriving on the ship, she could sense the atmosphere around her. As if she were carrying the plague, the crew kept their distance as they muttered under their breath. Now, after attempting an introduction with the ships captain, she was certain that the ride to … to wherever they were going, was going to be long.
To steel herself for the long voyage, she deeply sighed as she looked around the ship. Averting their eyes, the crewmen worked briskly to set the sails. She could tell by the low murmers of their voices that they were in just as much of a hurry to leave Japa as she was.
~~~~~~
From the safety of the shadows, two small, dark eyes peered at the ones that everyone was calling a curse. Although she had never seen anyone as white as these two women, she found it hard to believe that they were curses. Zara would never have allowed curses to board the ship, her child’s mind reasoned as she watched them moving over the deck. The little child found her curiosity peeked and was anxious to get to know the woman with hair the color of the sun and the taller, leather clad woman. Nadrah was certain that if the rest of the crew only got to know these two strangers, that maybe they would stop calling them curses. At the sound of the cabin’s door opening, Nadrah ducked into the shadows.
~~~~~~
Gabrielle was not aware of the pair of eyes that examined her from the shadows. At the sound of the cabin door’s opening, she turned and watched the tall, burly man leave the captain’s cabin. Although she wasn’t certain if anyone on this ship spoke her language, she hoped that she could pick up the language quickly and be able to communicate.
When the tall bearded man walked past her, she reached out and lightly touched his shoulder. At her touch, he turned and gaze down at her, his face a stern mask.
"Excuse me," she smiled as she tried to keep her voice soft and unchallenging. "I guess it’s best to introduce myself, my name is Gabrielle," she offered as she pointed to herself.
The taller man simply looked down at her, his eyes assessed her as he slightly tilted his head as if trying to understand her words.
"Gabrielle," she offered again while pointing at herself. The man nodded understand as he pointed to himself.
"Abu Abdullah Muhammad Shams ad-Din ibn Battuta" his baritone voice said.
Gabrielle felt even more alone. For the first time she realized that she would be traveling for a very long distance without anyone to talk with except Xena. At this thought, she smiled understanding to the man. Satisfied that she was finished with him, he turned and left her standing on the deck as he began to bark out orders in a language she did not know.
"A very long trip," she sighed. As she peered around the deck, two brown eyes ducked even further down, never once being seen by Gabrielle.