Thomas Harlan - The Gate of fire

"Run!" Mohammed yelled at Uri, sprinting away down the corridor. Behind them the Hashim roared in anger, the sound of baying hounds on the hunt.

– |The roof of the building collapsed with a great roar, flames billowing out of the windows and jetting into the sky. Somewhere within, amphorae of oil or pine resin ignited, sending rich blue flames rushing up amid the orange and yellow of wood and straw. Jalal stood in the street, bodies scattered around him, blood on his face and hands, howling commands at his men. "Form up! Form up!"

The Tanukh spilled out of the darkness, heavily laden with their gear. Shadin ran up, his face a mask in the flickering flame light. He had a staff with him, wrapped in a banner. Jalal laughed with joy to see it-his second great fear had been that it was lost in the burning building.

"Unfurl the banner of our captain," he shouted above the din. Their sudden attack out into the street had driven back the Bani Hashim who had been guarding the front of the house. Their dismembered bodies showed the skill and ferocity of the Tanukh. Shadin grinned in the darkness, his teeth white and his eyes wild in the ruddy light. He swiftly untied the cords that held the banner closed.

Some of the Tanukh turned in the street, once they had reached Jalal and Shadin, and drew their bows. At the end of the street, Bani Hashim warriors were regrouping. Black arrows flicked away, and even in the poor light, two of the Hashim fell. Shadin raised the banner, a long green triangular pennant with a long tail. In the grim light of the burning building, it seemed black with the sigil of a single curved white saber upon it. Jalal's heart soared to see it unfurl and flap in the wind. "For the captain!" he howled, and raised his saber high. "For the Quraysh!"

The Tanukh joined him, screaming at the top of their lungs, "For the Quraysh!"

Jalal pointed up the hill, where the street wound away between the narrow buildings and mounted up the terraces toward the residences of the Bani Hashim.

"On, lads! On! Our captain needs us!"

The Tanukh moved as one, a thick band of men in arms and armor, bristling with spears over shields blazoned with bright geometric patterns. They jogged up the street, their grim faces lit by the flames of the burning building.

– |Mohammed threw his shoulder into the door, Uri hard at his side, and the oaken panel slammed shut. A Hashim spear had thrust through the opening at the last instant and had caught at the jamb. Mohammed tried to kick at it with his boot, but it would not dislodge. The door panel shook as the Hashim outside the room slammed against it.

"The spear!" Mohammed shouted, fumbling for his longsword with one hand. Roxane stepped in, swinging a carpenter's axe, and the spear haft snapped under the blow. The broken shaft disappeared back out the door, and the panel finally crashed shut. Uri slammed the locking bar across the door, and the whole frame jumped as the Hashim, their voices filled with rage, hit it again. Mohammed jumped back and seized a nearby divan, dragging it behind the door.

They had fallen back to Roxane's quarters on the top floor of the house. Here, amid perfumed splendor, Mohammed and Uri barricaded the door. Roxane had gathered her servants before her as she ran upstairs, and now they cowered weeping at the back of the room. Sayyqi and Da'ud returned from the other chamber, their faces red and arms straining as they carried a huge clothing trunk. The chest fell heavily against the door. Mohammed stepped back, letting his saber fall to point at the floor. He looked at Roxane. "Daughter, where are your husband and his guardsmen? Surely they must have heard all this noise?"

Roxane stared glumly at her father, her perfect makeup smeared and a trail of soot in her hair. "My husband did not approve of my attempt to bring peace," she said in a bitter voice. "He betook himself to his mother's house for the evening, with most of the guardsmen. I just saw one of his brothers on the staircase…"

Mohammed nodded. Open war between the clans had come to Makkah, and it would spare no one. He looked around the room, seeing tall, narrow windows and a stout-beamed roof. He pointed up with his chin. "Is there a way to the roof? Can we escape that way?"

Roxane sat down on a gilded velvet hassock and put her head in her hands. Her long dark hair was a mess, lying tangled around her shoulders. "There is a garden on part of the roof, and racks for laundry, but you cannot get to that stairway without going back out into the hall. My quarters have no exit save this door."

Uri laughed, turning and leaning on his spear. "A fine cage he made you, then, Lady Roxane. We will have to cut a hole in the ceiling."

Mohammed nodded, his face grim and closed. "Yes. Sayyqi, take my daughter and her servants to the rear-most room. Cut a way out through the ceiling with the axe. We will hold this door and these front rooms until you are done."

Sayygi nodded, picking up the axe. His shoulders were thick with muscle and he lifted the heavy iron-headed weapon with ease. "As you say, Captain."

He herded the servants out of the room. Roxane made to stay, but Mohammed shook his head at her and she left. Uri looked after her, his face a little sad. He wiped some blood off of his chin. "I tried to arrange a marriage between her and my son, Ezekhail, you know. Unfortunately, Khadijah and I did not see eye to eye at that time. Sharaf won that toss of the dice…"

Mohammed smiled a little, and nodded. His wife had told him a little of the constant maneuvering and posturing that filled the idle time of the families of the city. When she had done it, he was sure that the match had been in the best interests of their house. A snort of bitter laughter escaped him. He paced up and down along the wall of the room that held the door to the corridor. Faintly he could make out the Hashim running about outside and some shouting. "They will find something for a ram," he mused aloud as he quietly tapped the wall along its length. It seemed to be solid, without stuccoed spaces where the Hashim could break it down with axes of their own. His son-in-law probably had spared no expense to protect his womenfolk. A thought occurred to him. "Da'ud, quickly-go through the rooms here and check for hidden doors or passages. Rap on the walls, look for hollow spaces. Go!"

Da'ud nodded sharply and hefted his saber before ducking through the door into the next room. Uri nodded slowly and began carefully moving along the left wall of the room. It was difficult; the walls were covered with woven hangings and, behind them, ornamental woods. Mohammed stayed near the door, listening quietly. Uri was finished with his circuit in a few minutes and returned. "Nothing here," he said quietly. "A wise precaution-I know my own house has such passages. Well, I built them, so I should remember." He laughed and clapped Mohammed on the shoulder. "I have missed you, my friend," he said. "Odd that our paths took such a long journey to come together again."

Mohammed nodded. When they had been little, it had been Uri who had wanted to see the world and travel on the open seas. But he had stayed home, and built his house until it was very strong. Mohammed, the boy who had always been looking for another scroll to read, had been the one who went away. Mohammed frowned. It was very quiet outside. "Get ready," he said, stepping back into the cleared space in the middle of the room. "They are about to try the door."

A moment passed, and all Mohammed could hear was the breathing of his companion and the faint sound of Sayyqi chopping at the roof timbers three rooms away. Then, very faint through the door, was the sound of rushing feet, and a great boom shook the panel. Splinters flew away from the locking bar, but the door held.

"Da'ud!" Mohammed shouted, raising his saber over his head. A few paces away, Uri raised his long spear. "Get in here!"