The Upside

Sequel to The Downside. It's strongly recommended that you read that first for the backstory of what is happening here.

Chapter 1

Even when the twelve tribes of the Medjai camped together for their quadrennialtribe gathering, there were not this many tents, people, horses and camels. Ardeth halted his group some way away from the huge dark mark on the land, many camps all built in a wide circle about a shimmering lake. It was a gathering of the renowned horsebreeders of the South Nile valleys, an opportunity to buy and sell, watch and be watched, socialise and show, and above all, to race.

Even now they could see small groups along the racing track, training or competing before the official races started.

An ocean of people, a contrast as night and day against the silence of the desert. The wind brought the sounds and scents of the camp to the Medjai, and they watched and listened in silence, taking it all in.

Horses, snorting and bugling to one another. Camels lowing. Dogs barked and growled at the many strangers. Singing and handclaps mingled with faraway voices that cheered on two camel riders. The sharp sounds of a tabla drum drifted on the wind. Merchants praised their wares, enticing the many strollers to view the merchandise. Children screamed in excitement.

Then adhan sounded, the call for prayer, and in a few moments a deep silence came over the huge camp, almost eerily so. A lone baby cried, but was quickly hushed.

The scents did not cease. Smoke from a fire, and the enticing smells of fresh-baked bread drifting along with it. Incense, dyes for cloth, newly tanned hides, many different foodstuffs.

After some time, just as quickly as they have ceased, the noises from the camp resumed, a cacophony of sounds.

The Nile Valley Spring Races. Abdul-Jalil of the Imtiyaz family had spoken highly of it.

Ardeth observed the huge camp with interest.

He had had no particular desire to make use of the invitation Abdul-Jalil had given him nearly two months ago. Hamanaptra needed his attention; he disliked the huge crowds of such festivals, and more so he had no particular desire to see Ester wed that man Sahir she had spoken of.

Ester Imtiyaz Il Fernández was a woman he had encountered during a patrol nearly three months ago, alone and wounded after her small group had been attacked by a band of robbers. He had been reluctant to take her along, but unwilling to refuse what Allah put on his path.

She was a daughter of the Imtiyaz family, one of the largest Nile Valley horse breeders. Finding her strong and resourceful, he'd warmed up to her during the long journey back to their base camp. Then one day he'd gone into her shelter to wake her from a nightmare and had fallen asleep next to her. Medjai custom declared them married after a night spent together, and this had upset her so that on arrival in the Medjai base camp, he had requested that the council anulled the union. She had gone back to her people and the promise of a marriage of convenience to happen at the Spring Races, and he was once again free to look for a wife.

Not that he was particularly eager to actively search out available young women and consider their suitablility as his wife and as the female leader of the Medjai. It was a tedious process and he didn't think he would find his wife here.

He turned his thoughts back to Ester. Had her family accepted her back? What was her life like now? He knew he had come to feel protective of her, and though he had not been devastated at her departure, seeing her wed a man that he doubted could make her happy held no appeal to him. She was like a sister to him, and he wished to see his sisters happy.

He needed to tell her she was officially released from the unintended union that had been between them. Nassar, the horse and camel breeder of the Medjai, had been hounding him to send a party to the Races, for such an opportunity to do business with the best breeders along the Nile could not be missed. Ardeth, knowing that not listening to the man meant inferior horses along the line, had relented.

Then the council had strongly hinted that he should look around for a suitable wife, the members of the tribe had given him a shopping list as long as his forearm, and Nassar had found out that camels were also raced and that it would be an opportunity to find some good camel mares.

Well, no one had ever claimed that being the leader of the Medjai would always be enjoyable. He looked to the nine people that accompanied him; another four brought the slower travelling camels to the festival.

Omar, a brother of Ardeth's mother, eagerly pressed his horse forward. He clearly was the only one not looking forward to this. Ardeth shrugged to himself as he decided he had endured worse hardships. It was only a week…

Riding into on of the main pathway of the camp Ardeth felt somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer size of it all. There were tents of every make and colour under the sun, horses and camels of every breed, makeshift corrals and people, so many people. From the looks of it there were several desert tribes, but the majority of the horses were from the breeding stables. Some small breeders were present, and to the outside of the circle were several large, well-guarded camps.

He went to the registry tent with Nassar. They had arrived late and there was no space in the inner circle of camps, however they were pointed to a good location in the outer circle. Ardeth was pleased that they would be somewhat free of the clamour of the inner circles. The man in the registry tent explained where they could find material for a corral and then called a name into the connecting tent.

A boy, maybe ten years old, appeared with a toddler on one hand. They walked slowly, the young girl obviously only just mastering to walk upright.

The man behind the desk smiled at them, the business-like expression giving way to a pride that could only be fatherly.

"Yussuf, show these gentlemen to their camping place. You can leave Fatma here."

"Yes, father"

As the boy led them out of the tent, Ardeth suddenly realised why the children had attracted his attention – they both bore a resemblance to Ester. Actually that wasn't overly surprising, for if she was a daughter of the Imtiyaz family that meant that she was related in some degree to at least half of the people present.

Outside his group was waiting in the middle of the road; nine in total. Three warriors, two of which had brought their wives, and the swordsmith, the horse expert, and their apprentices. Together they lead six more horses meant for sale or trade. All bore the Med-jai tattoages, and he could feel a mixture of curiosity and wariness among the spectators.

As Ardeth mounted his horse, the boy spoke up.

"It is quite far. If you don't mind to wait a moment longer, I will get my pony and can guide you there faster, sirs."

Ardeth felt that the group was getting restless, people and horses not comfortable with the idea of standing in the middle of a crowd.

"No..." He motioned to the boy to come over to him, and reached down to lift him up onto his horse. The horse snorted, eager to move, and jigged in place. Before the other horses could start to play up also, Ardeth gave the signal to the group.

The boy in front of him seemed both excited and a little wary. Probably never had much to do with the desert tribes, he concluded. He idly wondered if this was what a child of Ester would look like. If she had a son, would he look like this boy? The same undaunted attitude, the same warm brown eyes?

When they had arrived at the place the Medjai could use for a camp Ardeth offered to bring the boy back to the registry tent.

"Thank you sir, but I will go to our camp..." He said, pointing to the large circle of tents half a mile away. "To help my mother."

"I can bring you there," he said, looking around to find his people already starting to build the tents, awnings and corral. "Which camp is that?"

The boy almost beamed with pride. "That of Imtiyaz."

Grinning, Ardeth wheeled his horse and urged it to a canter. Not that urging was required – with so many scents on the wind Athir was more than ready to show off his prowess. The boy let out a small cry of excitement as the lean body stretched below them both, hard hooves eating up the distance between the two camps.

He set the boy down within thirty metres of the well-guarded entrance of the Imtiyaz camp.

The boy bowed.

"I thank you for the ride." Then, manners set aside for youthful enthusiasm, he added "that was great!"

Ardeth smiled down on him.

"Give your family the regards of Ardeth Bay."

"I will do that, sir!"

Riding back to his own people, Ardeth couldn't help but feel pleased about this development. Abdul-Jalil had invited him to the Races, apparently so that he could be thanked properly by the head of family for his care for theirs. Ardeth suspected this had more to do with the burial of the son of the house and the subsequent revenge on his killers than with his care for Ester, but was willing to accept the sentiment. It also gave him a way to see how Ester was doing.

He had tried to stop caring now it was no longer of his concern, but he wanted to hear from her own mouth that she was where she wished to be in life, that this made her happy.

He didn't know why, but it was important.

A couple of hours later the tents and the corral were built, and most of the group sat around the fire to drink tea. To Ardeth it still felt strange to have women with them, but it gave a pleasant atmosphere, more home-like than it would be on patrols. Two of his men had asked if they could take their wives with them, and he had seen no danger in it. With any luck they could take over the task of finding the particular sorts of cloth Fahyallah and some other women had requested.

Most, if not all, of the Med-jai women had been trained to fight – not for a war, but to defend themselves and their children. It was something Ardeth's father had decided after an attack on the Med-jai camp one day. Few knew about the training the women received, and any trying to attack the camp now stood before an unpleasant surprise. They still left men behind when the warriors rode off, but they all slept lighter knowing that the women were not helpless themselves.

The Med-jai were nomads, each tribe settling their mobile camps where it suited them within their own area. The old, pregnant and those with young children often stayed at the Medjai base camp, in an oasis deep in the desert. That place was also used by Nassar to breed the horses, camels and goats of the tribes. This situation enabled the tribes of the Med-jai to travel light and fast, all the while keeping the vulnerable people safely out of danger.

The women that had come with them now were both from the mobile camp – young women who didn't have children yet. They went clothed differently from most of the other desert tribes, the Med-jai attaching less value to the heavy robes and veils that were common.

In fact they just returned to the camp. Rafid smiled at his wife.

"Lady, tell me why you are looking so pleased?"

Yamira gave him a brilliant smile and showed him the basket she was carrying. "My husband, they are preparing for a wedding tonight. The family of the bride presents this food as a gift to the Med-jai camp."

The food was good, of course. These type of gifts were to show how prosperous the family was to be able to give this away. Weddings at the festival gave a couple and their families status. It was also practical, as most relatives came to the races anyway and could attend.

It was a fine meal, highlighted by the fruit sorts that were not available in the desert. Unaccustomed to food being abundantly available, they debated saving the majority of the fruit for the rest of the week – then laughed as they realised they could eat fresh fruit every day while they were at the races.

"Be sure to enjoy what this occasion has to offer," Ardeth told his people. "We will not have this chance for years to come."

Money, in this, was not a problem. The Medjai traded to acquire whatever they could not come by themselves – they had gold, selected objects from the various secret places they guarded melted down to coins, but the opportunities to spend it were scarce.

The women were less eager to share the rumours they had heard while they were out. Word of mouth had made the role of the Medjai into those of the attackers of the party of the Imtiyaz son. Abdul-Jalil, the youngest of the Imtiyaz brothers, had rescued his niece from their clutches and found his nephew slain.

Thankfully the rumours spoke not of the name of these attackers, nor of facial tattoages. Ardeth concluded that Ester and her uncle had kept quiet about who had really helped her, and though the rumours were unflattering, there was no real risk to them. He thanked them silently, for if there had been such detail, the Medjai would have been publicly assaulted for their imagined brutal attack on the Imtiyaz family.

Or perhaps Abdul-Jalil – a man Ardeth had taken to instantly – had simply left out the Medjai completely, skirting the whole issue of Ester spending weeks in the desert with her rescuers, and enabling the Medjai to attend the races as simply another tribe from the depths of the Sahara.

With any luck he'd have the chance to find out tomorrow. During the opening parade the breeders presented themselves, and if Ester was not there then Abdul-Jalil would be. It wouldn't be difficult to start a conversation with his admiration of the Imtiyaz horses as starting point.

He went to bed early that night, but the sounds of the vast camp around him disturbed his sleep.

There. Just goes to show that just because the narration of one adventure ends, it doesn't mean no other adventures are possible…

Cheers,

Arwen