Little Black Girl Lost 4 (3 page)

Chapter 5

A
mir Bashir Jibril was half Nigerian and half Egyptian. He was born of a highly educated Egyptian woman named Asenath, which means
she belongs to her father.
Amir Bashir Jibril means
prince, bringer of good news,
and
archangel,
in that order. He was to be all that his name embodied.

Amir was indeed a prince, but he was only one of many, being the seventh son of the fifth wife. But as far as ruling the kingdom was concerned, he was far from the throne in the line of succession; nor did he want to rule it. He had but two ambitions. The first was to be a master shipbuilder. The second was to marry a woman he truly loved.

He had seen how the king, his father, treated his mother, only calling for her when he needed fulfillment; then, having sown his royal seed, sent her back to her house to wait for the urge to hit him again. The fifth wife had another burden to bear; she was not only ruled by the desires of the king, but wives one through four had authority over her too. While she had her own house, her own servants, she almost never saw her husband, the king, and consequently, Amir rarely saw his father. He thought that if being a king made it easy to neglect one of his wives, it wasn't something he aspired to be. He was glad that he, in all likelihood, would never be in a position to ignore the family he had sired.

Knowing his journey with Ibo would be one in which sleep would be a luxury he could ill afford much of, he had gone to bed early. At only eighteen, he was chosen to be one of the king's most prized warriors. Though he possessed the body of a god, he knew the value of rest before a battle. Rest, along with the proper shoes and weapons, always made the difference on the field of battle.

The ingredient that made him a resolute warrior was not the great strength he possessed, but his God-given speed, his indomitable spirit, and his unyielding mind. Speed of foot, speed of hand, and great coordination were but a few of his allies, and they served him well in the heat of battle. Armed with sword and shield, he could easily defeat ten men. Having proven himself to his older contemporaries, he was quickly promoted to captain of the infantry.

“Wake up, my son,” his mother called out to him from across the room. Amir was Asenath's favorite son of the seven she bore. “The moon is full and you must be on your way soon.”

Amir opened his eyes, but didn't respond.

“Arise and eat, my son,” Asenath called out. “You will need to have all your strength.”

Amir gathered himself, stood up, and walked over to the basin and washed his face and hands. Afterward, he went over to the table she prepared for him and sat down. He reached for some of the ripe, sweet-smelling fruit she had cut up. He was about to put a cube of pineapple in his mouth when he heard his mother's silent voice telling him to stop with only the feeling of a daunting stare.

“Let us thank the Lord God of Israel for his goodness,” she said.

When she finished her humble supplication, with noticeable cynicism, Amir, unconvinced of spiritual things, said, “Will your Lord God of Israel be with me and my bride on our journey, my mother?”

“I have prayed for this very thing, my son.”

Amir studied her as she spoke, wondering if she herself believed the unbelievable things she often spoke of. “So we shall be safe? Nothing evil will befall us?”

Asenath exhaled softly and gathered her patience. “The Lord God doesn't guarantee you a life without trouble. He only promises to be with you and never leave you through whatever trouble comes your way. Trust him, my son.”

Chapter 6

A
mir rolled his eyes and said, “Hmpf, my spear, my sword, and my shield . . . these are the things I trust. These are the things that I can see and feel. As for your Lord God of Israel, have you at any time seen or at least touched him? Ever?”

Angry now, Asenath frowned and asked, “Have you at any time seen or at least touched your brain? Ever?”

Amir looked away.

“The Lord God of Israel will be with you through all your hardships as he has been with me through mine,” Asenath said with confidence.

Amir frowned. “Wouldn't it be better if your God never let the trouble come your way in the first place?”

“My son, hear me and understand . . . all sunshine makes a desert.”

“But mother, the king will kill you when he realizes that I have gone with Ibo to your brother's land, will he not?”

Asenath shrugged her shoulders and said, “I suppose he will, my son.”

Frustrated and angry about her nonchalant attitude concerning her own death, he blurted out, “Are you not afraid?”

She walked over to her son and kissed the back of his head. “Oh, Amir, it's so sweet of you to worry about me.” She returned to her seat. “And yes, when the king realizes that I have plotted against him, he will seek my life. But what he doesn't know is that he'll be setting me free from this bondage that I have endured for more than thirty years.”

With resignation, he said, “So you're ready to die then, my mother? You're ready to give your life so that I can have a chance at mine?”

At eighteen, Amir was far too young to know the things he thought he knew. He didn't know nor did he understand that his mother had been in captivity for thirty long years. He didn't know nor did he understand that she was far too tired to care about the king and what he might do because of her betrayal. She was sick and tired of being a kept woman, living a life without the passion that romantic love delivers. Death had no hold, no power over her because she had died a long time ago.

Amir had been her only reason for living. Now that he had found a woman worthy to take her place, death was a welcomed guest in her house of life. To be killed so that her favorite son could have a woman he was willing to die for was an honor that warranted reciprocation. He was too young to understand that she would never throw her life away frivolously. Her decision to expire was made with much contemplation and reflection. She wasn't casting her life aside on a whimsical flight of fancy; she was offering it on the altar of sacrifice as a final act of love.

With stone-faced conviction, she said, “I am.”

The thought of his mother's death troubled his soul, and had become unbearable. As the time of his furtive departure approached, he thought he could persuade her to leave with them. But his pleas were met by an impenetrable wall of resistance. Now that the hour of his exodus had arrived, leaving her in the hands of her unforgiving husband was more difficult than he imagined.

“But how can I live, how can I be happy with my bride knowing my happiness cost you your life?”

“You know that I am a daughter of Egypt; a daughter of wealth and influence?”

Exasperated, he said, “Yes, mother. You have told me this many times.”

“But I never told you how I came to this land, did I?”

“No, my mother, you did not. Please tell me now. Help me understand your willingness to die without a fight.”

Asenath knew that her death would torture him for some time to come. She opened her arms and beckoned him to her bosom. He went to her and kneeled. She took his head with both her hands and pulled it to her chest. With her arms, she embraced his head and held on, for she, too, was tormented by their separation.

“Amir ... please understand that love . . . true love . . . is boundless.” She sighed. “When a woman falls in love, she'll do anything for the man she loves. It is like being under the spell of a powerful sorcerer. When I fell in love with Boaz, who was the son of a close friend and business acquaintance of my father's, he forbade me to see him. Boaz, like his father, was an unorthodox Jew, trusting in Christ for the redeeming of their eternal souls. They looked like many of our Egyptian brothers and sisters, having rich mahogany skin like you.

“I loved my father, and up to that time, I had never defied him. But Boaz was so handsome, so incredibly kind, that I could not bear the thought of never seeing him, never being his wife, never having his children.

“Boaz's father felt the same way. Islam and Christianity couldn't co-exist. They could do business together, but I soon learned that was where it ended. The very idea of Boaz and I being in love ruined my father's relationship with Boaz's father.

“Like you and Ibo, we had planned to run away together. I wanted to meet Boaz. I did. I truly loved him, but when the time came to meet him, my courage abandoned me.”

Amir raised his head from her chest and looked into her eyes. “I don't understand, my mother. If you loved him, why didn't you go to him? Why did you let fear consume you?”

She pulled his head to her chest again. “I thought about the life my father provided. We had a beautiful home, servants, and wanted for nothing. With Boaz, life would have been uncertain. We would have been on the run. Family was everything. It was all I knew. I was comfortable. Secure. Going with Boaz would have changed everything. When I considered these things, I lost heart.

“Instead of meeting him the night that we were to take flight, I stayed in bed. I prayed all night that the Lord God of Israel would let him know why I couldn't run away with him.

“A few days later, I was whisked away in the middle of the night on a caravan to this place. My father, whom I loved dearly, told me I was to be the wife of a king who believed in Islam as he did.

“What my father didn't know was that I had already converted and was committed to Judaism. He didn't know that I had been given a copy of an original King James Version Bible, first published in 1611.

“Now, some thirty years later, Ibo is forced to make the same choices that were set before me. I hope for your sake that she possesses the courage I did not have. That night clings to me like the heaviness of a block of steel. For more than thirty years I have relived that night, wishing I could change my mind, knowing I never could. And so ... when the king takes my life—and I pray to the Lord God he will—I will finally be free. I will die with the knowledge that my favorite son had the chance to be with the woman he loved.”

Finally, understanding was threatening to breach his dull psyche and teach him the things a woman hides deep in her heart. He raised his head again and searched his mother's eyes as fear crept into his mind. “Do you think Ibo is thinking of not meeting me?”

“I'm sure of it. Even as we speak, she is struggling with the idea of leaving mother and father, sisters and brothers, all that she has ever known. And for what? A future that does not yet exist? She is to be married to the prince tomorrow who will soon be king. What can you offer her other than a dream?

“So you see, my son, she has to have a great love for you to leave security and peace of mind. She loves a man who may be hunted down and killed in her presence. This is the position you have put her in. I have prayed that the Lord God grants you peace and riches, but know that they will come at a price.”

He lowered his eyes and reflectively said, “If she meets me, I will give her the chance to change her mind.”

“See that you do, my son. She will love you all the more for doing so.”

Chapter 7

I
t was unseasonably cool the night that Ibo Atikah Mustafa made her way down the dirt road leading to the man she loved with all her heart. She was almost there, almost at the end of the property, where Amir would meet her. Fear and exhilaration grew when she heard his prized black Arabian snort. Moving faster now, with a sense of urgency, she walked toward the images she saw in the moonlight.

It was Amir. He, too, had made his escape. She could see him now, arrayed in battle gear which consisted of a leather vest and kilt; his sword was in its sheath around his waist. His shield and spear was resting harmlessly on his horse. Closer now, she could see that there were two horses, not just one. Overwhelmed by an avalanche of emotions, she ran to him and fell into his open arms.

“Come, now, my love,” Amir began, whispering, cognizant that they were in mortal danger as long as they were in their country of origin. “We dare not linger here. We have but an hour or two at most before they discover your absence.”

“Oh, Amir, Amir,” Ibo uttered breathlessly. “Can't you just hold me ... if only for an instant? I have looked forward to this moment for so very long.”

“Only for a second longer, my love. Our lives are but grass to the king. And he will not spare us. Let us be as the wind . . . strong, silent, and free to roam wherever it wills. Let us be gone.”

She sighed. “To the sea?”

“Yes, to the sea, where I will build my own fortune.”

“And where we will marry and have children?”

“Many children, my love.” He got on the Arabian and extended his hand to help her onto the horse. “Come, we dare not tempt fate a second longer. Food, water, clothing, everything we need, I have brought with me.”

“Do you think your mother will tell where we went?” Ibo asked.

“Eventually. She will hold out for as long as she can before telling the king.” The thought of his mother being tortured mercilessly filled his heart and his countenance fell.

He changed the subject. “She has made you a lovely wedding garment and lots of other silks and fine linens you'll love. Besides, she thinks we're going south, to Lagos, where her brother lives. We're going west, where I will show you the ocean of life.”

Her arms were wrapped around his waist. She squeezed, wishing she could somehow become a part of him at that moment. “Did you remember to thank her for me?”

“I did remember,” Amir replied. There was a hint of sadness in his voice.

“It was hard leaving her, huh?”

“Harder than it was for you to leave your mother, my love. My mother will die tomorrow—or worse, be tortured for days and then murdered. All because she knew of our plot to leave this land and dwell in one of our own. I hated deceiving her.”

She loosened her grip and looked at the back of his head. “How did you deceive her?”

“My love, I have told you this already. I told her we were going to live with her brother in Lagos. I told her this knowing the king will force her to tell everything she knows. Because she believed me, the king will believe her and go three days' journey in the wrong direction. This, my love, will secure our escape and more important, our happiness.

“If I'm right, if they believe my mother, they will never find us, and we can never ever return to this place. So decide now. Are you ready for this? Or do you want to remain here and be the wife of a king?”

Without hesitation, Ibo said, “I'm ready for this. I will be the wife of a prince.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his back. “Oh, Amir. I love you so. Will we be happy? Please tell me we will.”

“We will never be happier than we are at this moment, my love. Remember it, for you will tell of it to our daughters and our sons. They will know that we risked all for the sake of love. Because of what we do tonight, our children will know that it is wrong to have a mate chosen for them. They will have a mate of their own choosing.”

With his bride safely behind him, he gently kicked the sides of his Arabian and led him over to the other horse. He reached out and grabbed the rope that was tied to the reins and they galloped away. Amir had made Ibo feel so safe and secure that as they rode off together in the moonlit night, she told herself that she would love him forever.

In five days they would be safe on the seashores of Sierra Leone—at least that's what they thought.