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A Lily in the Valley
Summery: They've been together a long time, through many hardships. What began as fascination towards Altair's strange interactions with a kitten has blossomed into so much more. For the first time in a while nothing directly threatens the Order and they can peacefully try to grow themselves into better now that Abbas is dead. The only pressing matter now is the next meeting of the Dai and the fact that their next Dai will be a woman. As if Malik didn't have enough to worry about along with juggling his relationship with Altair and their different physical needs and wants and basically running the Order.
Chapter 43: Achilles Lily
It was early morning. Altair was sitting in bed watching the sun rise. He knew against his own wishes Kabir was up too and leaning against his back tiredly. He hadn’t been able to sleep or go back to sleep when Altair had gotten up and opened the grated window and even for second sleep Kabir usually just laid there, awake but barely. He could feel Kabir falling asleep on his shoulder but didn’t worry himself with it. The only one keeping Kabir up was Kabir and they both knew it.
The sky turned red, and then orange, and pink and finally a warm, pale, yellow as the sun crept above the horizon but was still hidden by the mountains. Down below the imam started singing for dawn prayer.
“Did you want to go to that?” Altair asked, startling Kabir awake.
“Huh?”
“Prayer.”
“Hmm, no, not really. Not much room in religion for men like me,” Kabir said tiredly. Altair didn’t say anything like that. No there wasn’t. Or for men like Altair but their reasons were different. As the sun crested the mountain Altair got up from bed and finally started dressing. “Why were you up so early?” Kabir asked.
“I’m usually up this early,” Altair said.
Kabir squinted at him. “No you aren’t.”
“Just because I let you sleep doesn’t mean I let Malik. He is also usually up before me,” was all Altair said. “You can sleep some more if you want,” and he closed the grated window. Kabir groaned tiredly and flopped back onto the bed. Altair left him there and went out to the main room.
It was quiet in the empty room. He went over to the book shelf and looked at the Apple on a small pedestal he’d put it on. He reached out, cupped it in his hand and focused on it. He closed his eyes and while he didn’t exactly feel anything happen he was sure he heard the door open. He looked at the front door. It was closed.
Then without knocking the door opened and Kamal came in with his morning array of cat and human breakfast. It made the same sound Altair had just heard, the sound of the tray being used to open the door and the quick open swing on the slightly, purposefully, noisy hinges.
He cocked his head at Kamal. He didn’t see Altair at first and went about setting out the food for the cats who milled around his legs impatiently. He toed them out of the way so he could actually feed them. When he stood back up he started and nearly dropped the tray when he saw Altair standing there, watching him. “Ah! Grandmaster, I didn’t see you there,” he said.
“I know.”
“Uh... you’re up early,” he moved to put his breakfast on the table. “Is everything already?”
“Yes,” Altair realized he still had his hand on the Apple. He looked at it and took his hand away. Kamal seemed more at ease now that Altair wasn’t touching the sphere. “Anything important come in?”
“Not today, no,” Kamal shook his head, mindlessly making Altair his tea. “Where is Kabir?”
“Sleeping,” Altair went to the breakfast and started fixing himself something. “Go eat and meet me at my desk,” he said.
“Yes, of course,” he gave a little bow and left. Altair sat in the chair ungracefully and ate his breakfast. Not doing so annoyed Kabir and he knew also made Malik mad. Malik already said he was too skinny for a man his size. He was just thin, that wasn’t his fault! Kabir more worried that when he didn’t eat his mood was poor and he was prone to stupid actions. He couldn’t fault Kabir there.
Altair was finishing breakfast when Kabir stumbled out of the bedroom, looking haggard and tired. “Please tell me that boy brought my coffee,” he said.
“Yes. I don’t know how you drink that stuff.”
Kabir shuffled over, found the earthen pot with his breakfast drink of choice and poured himself a cup. Altair could not stand that stuff. It tasted so bitter and acidic and had such a strong and unpleasant aftertaste on the tongue. Kabir drank it with milk but even that was awful to Altair. “You would too if you have long nights like I do sometimes,” Kabir said, sipping it loudly.
Altair wrinkled his nose. “I didn’t need to know that.”
“I didn’t tell you anything. You are so squimish,” he teased Altair.
“It’s gross,” he said firmly.
Kabir chuckled. “And yet you’ll gladly gut a man and shove your hand into his belly. That is also very gross.” Altair had never thought of it like that. “You are desensitized to the gore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“You say it like it is appalling.”
Kabir looked at him and realized his tone had betrayed him. “I know it is nothing you can help,” he said gently. “And you are perhaps better for it. I can only imagine what sort of nightmares a man would have if he wasn’t,” and Altair was surprised when he gently stroked Altair’s cheek with the back of his fingers in an intimate gesture. He scratched his cheek where Kabir had touched when Kabir pulled away. He wasn’t sure he liked that.
“So are you also desensitized to the things you do?”
“Altair, knowing you, I have seen and done things that would make you faint.” Altair blanched. Kabir laughed.
“I can’t even imagine what such a thing would be,” he said honestly. “I just... that— I’m going to work,” just to get away from the idea. Just to not have to think about that. He knew how sex worked mechanically and even that was gross to him. So to do something that was so shocking and disgusting to him he’d faint? He didn’t even know what that would look like!
Kabir just chuckled after him as he checked on Sawsan and left his room. Both his guards were out there today. “Is everything well?” Altair asked and Christopher and Ehan stopped talking between each other in hushed tones.
“Oh, Altair. I was telling Christopher to tell you something but now that isn’t necessary. I can tell you myself,” Ehan said.
“What is it?” Altair asked.
“Haythem needs to speak with you.”
“About?”
“He wouldn’t say. Something Marcus is doing I assume,” Ehan shrugged. “He asked me to ask you when is a good time.”
Altair hesitated. Malik had always dealt with Haytham. That was his project and his leash. “Ask Haytham if it can wait until Malik returns. He knows more than I on Haytham’s schemes.”
“I will. But if it can’t?”
“I will find him.”
Ehan made a face. “He won’t like that.”
“I am Grandmaster, he will get over it,” and Altair walked away down the stairs.
Kamal wasn’t at his desk yet but Altair knew he’d come soon. He went to some of the records to the side and pulled down a ledger book. What Munahid had told him about their accounts was still fresh in his mind. That they were broke. That they were in debt to their own men. Altair didn’t like that. He frowned looking at the ledger. It was a copy of the master ledger Munahid oversaw with his clerks. There was no red ink. Only black.
“Guard,” he called.
A guard came over and bowed slightly, “Master? Is something the matter?”
“Tell my quartermaster he is to see me as soon as he’s available,” Altair said, slowly flipping through the ledger. He glanced up briefly, “And tell him to make sure he’s here before lunch.”
“Of course, Al Mualim,” he bowed and left.
Altair closed the ledger and put it back. It was a worthless book, full of lies. He quite hated lies. He hated liars. He hated when people didn’t tell him the truth. Like Zaki. Like Azrael. Like his father. They’d all lied to him.
Altair sat in his chair and waited for Kamal or Munahid, whoever came first. Unsurprisingly it was Kamal with his journals and inks and pens, ready to work and more importantly the box of missives. He sat gingerly in Malik’s chair next to Altair. He set the box next to Altair but Altair didn’t open it right away. “Uh— Altair?” Kamal asked.
Altair looked at him, “I trust you, Kamal,” he said.
“I— thank you,” Kamal said even as he got all flustered and blushed.
“You’re about to hear something I speak of with Munahid you must never speak of. Especially not to Malik. Understand?”
“— Why? What’s so bad?”
“Malik will be upset if he knows. He will hate himself. I’d like to avoid that.”
Kamal stared. “What’s it about?”
“You will see.”
“When is Munahid coming?”
Altair leaned in his chair a little, switching sights briefly and saw two blue shapes climbing the stairs towards his desk. “Now.”
The guard returned to his post while Munahid came before the desk. “Is there an emergency?” Munahid asked.
“In not so many ways,” Altair said, leaning back in his chair. “I want to see the accounts ledger.”
Munahid looked uncomfortable instantly. “You have a copy of it. I could-
“No. Munahid. I want to see the original.”
Munahid swore. “Why?”
“Because I want to know what we are missing.”
“I told you. We’re fine now.”
“Well what does fine look like? I want to see it. Do not make me go get it myself.”
Munahid sighed. “Very well,” and he left without saying anything.
Kamal was staring at Altair. “What was that about?”
Altair steepled his fingers. “I know this is no concern to you, as it shouldn’t be, but we are broke.”
“You’re broke?” Kamal didn’t understand.
“No, Kamal, the Brotherhood is broke.” Kamal blinked a few times as understanding washed over him. “Now you see why you must not tell Malik.”
“But... he’s been the one mostly in charge of taking contracts.”
“Exactly. He has been doing a bad job because of his fear. I need to see how much I need to correct for and if I need to raise the rates of what I am doing. And to do that I need the master ledger.”
“Why not the copy?”
“It is all black,” was all Altair said.
Kamal was quiet for a moment. “So Munahid was lying to the both of you, and now the both of you are going to keep lying to Malik?”
“For now. Once we are out of danger of falling apart I will tell him,” Altair said calmly.
“Oh. You know he’ll be upset with you. That you kept this from him.”
“I know,” Altair said gravely. “I can’t stand a liar but sometimes I must be,” he sighed.
“Will you open the box? I can at least get ready for today while we wait for Munahid,” Kamal said.
Altair undid the lock on the box and Kamal pulled out the missives. He immediately started organizing them and making notes in one of his books for them that would make the work go quicker for the both of them.
Munahid came back some minutes later with a stack of large books. They landed heavily on the desk and Altair eyed them. “Well, this is them.”
“From when?”
“When I took over. The ones from Azrael were unusable since things weren’t being recorded properly the last few months,” Munahid said.
Altair looked at the stack of thick books. That was quite a lot to sort through. “Then what is it you give us?”
“A month and a half’s worth of expenses,” Munahid said gravely.
“Doctored,” Altair said.
“Well... yes,” he grimaced.
“Leave them here.”
Munahid hesitated, “Sir, I would-
“They will be returned once I’ve had time to look over them,” Altair spoke over him. “Now you may go.” Munahid grimaced. “You kept this from us, Munahid, for our vanity, there are consequences,” he said seriously.
Munahid sighed, “I know. I thought it was better,” he admitted.
“You let Malik and I decide what is best for the Order. Your job is to give us the right information we need.”
Munahid hung his head. “Apologies, Master. It won’t happen in the future.”
“You may collect them when you come for your duties later today,” he said. Munahid nodded and left.
“That’s a lot,” Kamal said, staring at the books.
“I am only interested in some of it. It should be a quick go through. How many missives are there?”
“Only five,” Kamal admitted. “Much less than usual.”
“There are no Dai in their cities, contracts are not being sent unless it is an emergency. It doesn’t surprise me.”
“Oh. Yes that makes sense.”
“Put them away. First we must look at the accounts,” and Kamal put the missives away. “Knowing Munahid they are meticulous,” Altair picked up the first one, saw the date on the front, put it back and selected the bottom one. That one was the latest one. He opened it at an angle on the edge of the table between him and Kamal. “Oh, Munahid,” he sighed softly when he opened to the latest months.
It was all red ink.
Only in the last week or so did the number creep into the black. He flipped back a few pages and saw more red. Now and then for a week or a few days they’d run into the black but for the most part it was red. He rubbed his face with one hand. What a mess. What a complete mess.
“That’s... a lot,” Kamal said, eyes wide.
“Yes, it is. Look at this, tell me where you see the monthly budget, or the weekly. I’m not sure how Munahid handles these accounts and how they differ from our doctored ledger.”
Kamal took the book and pulled it closer to examine. “Each page is a week, approximately,” he said. “Let’s see, budget, budget,” he said to himself, running his finger along the neat rows, following his finger with his eye. “Yeah, it’s separated.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everything gets its own monthly budget,” he said. “See these pages are the same here,” he flipped them back and forth but to Altair they were nearly unintelligible. “They’re the same week but for different parts of the fortress. The cooks, the dungeons, the smiths, the tailors, the cleaners. It keeps things managable to look at I guess,” he scratched his head in confusion. “But I don’t know why you’d have them all in a central book like this and not separated.”
“These are the master books. I’m sure each part of the fortress has its own ledger, just as we do.”
“Ah. That makes sense.”
“Is there a page of income?” Altair asked, leaning over, feeling more like the student than the teacher as he didn’t really understand quite what he was looking at beyond that it was bad. Very bad.
“Hmm,” he flipped through the book before going up to the front. “Yes. It’s... short,” he said with a grimace. “See, here’s the income from last month,” he pointed it out to Altair and saw the fairly long list of contracts brought in and the amount of money it brought in. “This column is the contract, this one is the potential money it brings in, and this one shows shows how much it actually brought in.”
“This last one?”
“Looks like that’s the running total the Order has.” It was nearly all red.
“What about this month?”
“Here,” and Kamal turned the page.
“That is worrying,” Altair frowned deeply. This month there was an even longer list. A significant amount too. Altair had only been working on his own for a week and already his contracts and the money, both realized and potential, brought in more money than Malik had the entire rest of the month so far.
“This month looks a lot better.”
“It is. Because I’m getting us money. Is the final total good or not good?”
“Like for right now?”
“Will we be in the black this month or not?”
“Uhhh, hold on,” and Kamal got out his pen to write some figures.
“Burn that paper when we are finished,” Altair said as he was writing, looking at several different pages all across the ledger for the month. Kamal just nodded but was doing arithmetic silently.
“We will just barely be in the black this month, as of today. That is if nothing else comes up and we don’t have any unforeseen expenses.”
“Which always come up,” Altair sighed.
Kamal was looking through the ledger and then he pulled out another year’s book and looked through it. “Budgets have been getting smaller too,” Kamal said.
“Hmm?”
“This one is from two years ago. The budget for Instructors was twice what it is now. Same for the kitchen. Huh... so that’s why we’ve been having less interesting food,” he said thoughtfully.
“What?”
“It’s not bad,” he said quickly before Altair got annoyed. “But less meat, thinner soups, a lot more rice. I like rice so that’s not a problem but,” he said cheerfully. “Less fruit too.”
Altair blinked. “It hasn’t affected me and Malik.”
“Well... no, why would it? You are Al Mualim and Grand Dai.”
Altair rubbed his face in annoyance. “So, more money. See how much money I’d need to make to get us back to the old budget,” he said.
Kamal wrote some more, doing the math. “At a modest estimate? Five hundred dinars. At a generous one? For everyone to have their old budget and put away some for savings: a thousand.”
Altair took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, looking up at the vaulted ceiling. A thousand dinar. That was a lot of money. “Shit,” he breathed.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Altair squeezed his eyes shut. “Put that away, burn that paper,” he said and got up from his chair. He paced back and forth behind his desk, thinking.
A thousand. And the Dai were all out of their bureaus for several weeks yet. Contracts would come in at a crawl. Kamal was shuffling around. “Read me the first contract,” Altair ordered.
Kamal pulled the missive out. “Death of a corrupt tax collector for the merchant guild in Tyrus.”
Altair kept pacing slowly. “One hundred. Send Abdul-Fattah ibn Jihawn, contract to be sent with him.”
“You don’t have to do it all in one day, Altair,” Kamal said.
“They want us to kill a political figure. It is worth it,” Altair said. “What is the next one.”
“Remove a suitor from someone’s daughter, death not required but wouldn’t be minded.”
“Sixty, send Hasim al-Keyaan. Next.”
“Someone wants to disappear to escape a bad marriage.”
Altair paused his pacing for a moment, “Does it say what sort?”
“It doesn’t,” Kamal said.
“Ten, and they’re responsible for feeding Khadim BLANK while he’s there transporting them. Destination to be determined by the Dai and the holder of the contract. Next.”
“Someone wants their father dead.”
“It say why?”
“No.”
“Denied. If they want us to commit patricide for them they can damn well tell us why. Next.”
“Someone is in need of protection on a journey to Greece. Requesting two swords.”
Altair thought about how long that trip would be and how long they’d be away. Away from the fortress yes but if they were men with families, how long would they be gone from their families? He closed his eyes as he paced. This one would be expensive. Killing that Armenian Bishop had been the most expensive job they’d taken since he and Malik had been in charge of the fortress. Also the most political. But he knew Azrael hadn’t been giving people an easy time for contracts. At least before he found the Apple.
“Altair?” Kamal asked when he said nothing for a good while, thinking.
“Shh,” was all he said gently. Kamal said nothing more. “Two hundred,” he finally decided.
“Two hundred?”
“Yes.”
“For a bodyguard position?”
“They will be gone some weeks and I don’t know how they will be traveling.”
“That is almost as much as the Bishop.”
“Yes, and that was cheap, I feel now. Now that I see how much money it takes to run the Order I realize me and Malik have been too kind. Two hundred, send Jal ibn Jul and Aarif Anta, contract to be delivered with them. Does not cover any moving costs associated with getting two men and horses to Greece. Next.”
“That was it,” Kamal said.
He stopped pacing, “Hmm?”
“That was the last one. There were only five.”
“Damnit,” Altair muttered.
“You just made the Order three hundred and some dinar, Altair,” Kamal said.
“Except I didn’t,” Altair grunted and sat down. “These are just contracts. The person can choose not to sign. So I potentially got us three hundred and some dinar.”
“How often does that happen? That they deny a contract?”
“About a third of the time,” Altair said.
“Oh... why would they bother to send for a contract if they don’t follow through?”
“We’re too slow and the situation has passed, or they took it into their own hands, or they get it and they realize it’s able to happen and they get cold feet, or the price we charge is too much for them. All manner of things could cause them to deny a contract. And that doesn’t count the contracts Malik would just throw out because he didn’t like them.”
Kamal let out a breath, “Wow. Okay. That’s... a lot.”
“Indeed,” Altair said gravely. “And this is why you’re not to breathe a word of this.”
“On my mother’s grave,” he promised. Altair nodded. He’d accept that.
“Pack everything up and go get Munahid. His work starts now.”
“Yes, sir,” and Kamal quickly packed his things, put the slips away and got the book to be sent to the clerks to be written out at length and made into proper contracts. Then he stacked everything neatly and left.
Altair stood at the window and looked out into the courtyard. Down below his men were training. He put his hands behind his back as he watched them. He turned when he heard someone’s footsteps and caught a viper.
Marcus was standing behind his desk. Altair’s eyes widened marginally. “Did you need something, brother?” he asked calmly. He wasn’t afraid of Marcus but he was wary of what he was doing and the way he bled red out into the world around him.
“I came to see if you needed assistance, Al Mualim,” Marcus was soft spoken. That wasn’t what he expected out of such a man.
“I do not.”
Marcus looked around the table, “You’re alone up here. That isn’t something we see very often.”
Altair finally turned around. “And your point, Marcus?”
“Perhaps you’d like some help?”
He scoffed, “And what help could you give me?”
Marcus’ stare was like a lizard, unblinking, his brown eyes shiny. “I am multi faceted, Al Mualim,” he said.
“Ah, so I should find the facet in which you reflect the best? No, Marcus, I won't waste my time in doing that," Altair said with an air of finality.
Marcus didn't like that. He frowned deeply. Then in a quiet time he said, "You don't know what you think you know, Al Mualim."
"Did you need something, Marcus? I do have work to do," he said shortly. This bug needed to get away from him before he stabbed him like he had Abbas.
"I know about your King Cobra. It's a shame. I like him."
Altair didn't take the bait. Then he frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Marcus spoke as if Altair hadn't even said that. "You could use something better."
Altair furrowed his grow in confusion. Malik told him Haytham said Marcus hated him. But his tone wasn't of that who was hateful and spiteful of him the way Abbas had been. There was no jealousy in his voice. No venom. No. He spoke in double speech but said nothing really at all. It reminded him of something but he couldn't think of what.
"Saftey and peace, Al Mualim," Marcus bobbed his head and left quickly when Kamal and Munahid approached from the side. Altair stared after him very confused.
"Was that Marcus?" Kamal asked when they came up to the desk.
"It was," Altair said slowly.
"What did that awful snake want?"
"I'm... not sure," he admitted.
"Who?" Munahid asked.
"Never you mind," Altair said. "We have some things to talk about before lunch and you are here to listen."
Munahid sighed, "Yes."
Altair sat down with a flourish of his robe. "Like the fact that you're not going to tell Malik what you're doing until I fix this."
"What?"
Kamal sat carefully in Malik’s chair.
"I will, until further notice, be the only one giving out contracts. And you are not to tell Malik why."
"Then... What should I tell him?" Munahid asked.
Altair pulled a face. "That he enjoyed doing it so much on his own he wants to keep doing it to relieve some of Malik’s work and stress," Kamal said helpfully.
"Yes. That," Altair pointed at Kamal.
"That seems like something he'd believe," Munahid said with a grave nod. "What should I do with the ledger?"
"The real one you keep as you have. I don't care about that. Just tell Kamal when it's not so awful and - yes, Christopher?" Christopher appeared at Munahid's elbow.
"Excuse me, Al Mualim. But your guest came to alert me your lady needs you," he said. More double speak to avoid saying a concubine guard was telling him his cat needed him-
He stood up from his desk sharply. "Altair?" Munahid asked.
"I will be indisposed the rest of the day. And probably tomorrow," he said.
"Okay?" Munahid didn't quite understand. Christopher leaned over to whisper into his ear as Altair left the desk. "Oh," he heard Munahid say as he walked away.
Kamal followed after him. “Do you need me any more for the day?” he asked Altair.
Altair thought about it, “No. Just bring Kabir and I food. But I will be in my room the rest of the day.”
“Okay. I’m going to the library,” he said brightly. Of course his smarty pants scribe would go to the library when not with Altair. Poetic really. He just nodded and Kamal peeled off from him as Altair started to climb the stairs up to his room.
The door was locked and he felt weird knocking. He heard movement inside and then the door creaked softly. “Who is it?”
“It’s me. Why did you lock my door?”
The lock unlatched and Kabir opened the door. “Christopher told me to lock the door. He said he and Ehan lock the door when no one is here to watch the door.”
“Oh,” he didn’t know that. But with Jari gone it might be unattended a bit more often than they’d like. Altair would have to see about getting a forth guard. Maybe once Marcus was dealt with Mica could be a good candidate. That way he’d be around a long time for his twins.
He was distracted from that thought when he heard a soft noise and strode into the room, right past Kabir.
He dropped to his knees next to Sawsan’s box. She had three little babies clutched against her belly as she lay on her side, stretched out, eyes closed. When Altair came near her eyes opened, head going up to see what it was, but seeing it was Altair put her head back down and started purring. He gently reached in and gave her head a soft petting making her tail twist back and forth happily.
Kabir came and sat next to him. “I didn’t notice at first,” he said. “She had them shortly after you left but I didn’t realize it until just now. I assume Christopher found you?”
“Yes,”Altair said, moving to sit more comfortably. “Did you go back to sleep?”
“I laid down,” Kabir admitted sheepishly making Altair chuckle. “But the brothers came and started meowing at me,” he grinned.
“Yes, Seif and Kadar are very needy, I can imagine they would.”
“Sawsan chased her other children away after she finished having her new ones. I’m sure they’ll be around soon.”
“Yes.”
Kabir paused. “Why don’t you pet them?”
Altair pulled back, surprised. “What?”
“They’re your cats. Why don’t you pet them? Sawsan would let you. She knows you’re her daddy,” Kabir said nicely.
Altair stared at him. Then he looked down at his hands, then back at the kittens. “I don’t want to hurt them,” he said.
“You wouldn’t hurt them,” Kabir said encouragingly and moved to sit right next to him, putting his hand on his back.
“But I could,” Altair said.
“But you wouldn’t.”
“But what if I did?” he asked, terrified. He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt those kittens.
“You wouldn’t,” Kabir said gently. Altair just shook his head. “Okay,” Kabir rubbed his back a little before pulling away. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“Really?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because you were not alright a few days ago and I was really worried about you,” he said. “You tell me you’re alright and I want to believe that but I worry. You’re my friend and Al Mualim. I want you to be better.”
Altair’s lips went thin. “I am better,” he assured Kabir. “I was... not good before. But I’m better now. You were very kind to me but it wasn’t what I needed.”
“Oh,” Kabir frowned. “Will you tell me what happened the other day?”
Altair grimaced. “Rauf and Ehan pretended to have a disagreement and Rauf deeply insulted Ehan and then goaded me into a fight. We beat each other but he won and told me to get my shit together. So I did.”
“Oh, Altair,” Kabir tutted. “If you needed more time-
“He was right,” Altair talked over him. “Being in here away from my duties wasn’t helping me. I was wallowing and not getting better. I feel better now.”
Kabir blinked at him and then nodded slowly. “Very well. I just want you to be your best,” he grabbed Altair’s wrist lightly. “You know I’m here for you. Always. You’re my very dear friend.”
Altair felt himself soften. “And you mine. And you know I don’t say that lightly.”
Kabir chuckled. “No,” he agreed. He leaned over and put his head on Altair’s shoulder. “I don’t think you’d hurt the kittens if you pet them,” he said. “I trust you, Sawsan trusts you. You should trust yourself.”
Altair frowned. “I will wait for tomorrow when they are stronger,” he said, mostly to placate Kabir.
“And what are you going to do with them? Will you keep collecting them?” Kabir teased him.
“Hmmm. Maybe. But I think they could be useful for others.”
“Oh?”
“I had a cat growing up. It was my mother’s cat. It was something soft amid all my training with my father gone. I think the softness was better for me than all the beatings in the world.”
“It is,” Kabir said, squeezing his wrist.
“Maybe I will give them to some boys who could use some softness,” Altair said.
“Hmmm. Pick wisely. Some of the young men are already twisted.”
“Oh? You know?”
“Some of my sisters tell me some of the journeymen are cruel to them.”
“And your brothers?”
Kabir grimaced. “They usually send them to me and I smack them around a bit,” he laughed.
“Do you now?”
“Yes,” Kabir said. “And what are they going to do? Tell someone a male concubine twisted their nuts because they were too rough with one? Please. They’d rather gouge out of their own eyes.”
“But they aren’t all like that. Right?” Altair asked.
“No. Just a few.”
“Tell me their names?”
“No, I don’t think I will,” Kabir said against his shoulder. “If they continue to be a problem yes. But the garden knows how to deal with angry, violent, young men. I’m sure you know the rumor.”
“You mean the one where you’ll get stabbed if you’re too rough? Yes. I’ve heard it. Also heard the one that Mother Sidra will turn you into a eunuch if you really get out of hand... she hasn’t actually done that, has she?”
“Once before either of us were born,” Kabir said. “Before she was Mother Sidra and just Sidra. From what I heard there were several men. When they pushed too far she grabbed a knife from under her pillow and cut off the balls of one of them.”
Altair paled and even if he didn’t like sex he still shifted uncomfortably at the thought of what Kabir was saying. Kabir snickered. “I see,” he said and had to clear his throat. Kabir just laughed a bit more.
“Just something to keep in mind,” Kabir was far too amused by all of this. “So if you won’t pet the kittens are you going to name them? You can’t let the boys name them. They’ll come up with terrible names like Dagger or Puddle.”
“Those don’t seem like such bad names-
“Those are horrible!” Kabir cried, sitting up enough to sort of punch him in the chest, making Altair grunt but it didn’t really hurt. “You came up with good names for your kittens. You should name these too.”
“Hmm. Would you like to name one?” he asked.
“Me?”
“Yes. I let Rauf name Seif and Malik helped me name the others. You could help me with these.”
“Hmm,” Kabir took it very seriously. “Well... I did have a dear friend, a long time ago it feels like now. He’s not with us anymore.”
“Was he a concubine?”
“No. He was an Assassin. He died in Saladin’s war,” Kabir frowned.
“What was his name?”
“Labib. Didn’t always live up to his name, but he was a nice fellow. I think one of them could be Labib.”
“Which one?”
Kabir looked over the kittens. Two were gray tabbies and the third was orange, almost like Adha. “The orange one,” he pointed. “If it’s a boy he can be Labib. Orange boy cats are kind and foolish, just like he was.” Altair chuckled.
“Alright. Labib.”
“You name one,” he said sternly.
“One of the tabbies, a girl, should be Manahil,” he said.
“You pick such thematic names, Altair,” Kabir said. Altair just shrugged. “Two lilies, a water lily, and now a spring. You have good names. Was it someone you knew?”
“No,” he said, looking out the window above Sawsan’s box. “I was in Damascus one day, waiting, watching, and I heard a mother calling for her daughter. When the child didn’t appear immediately she grew distressed. She was just around the corner making friends with the son of a florist.”
“How do you know that?”
“I might have gone to look for her,” he admitted, feeling somewhat sheepish. That had been when he’d been full of hubris and considered just about anything he wasn’t paid for not worth his time. But hearing her mother call her name in such distress had moved his hand to action. “But her name was Manahil. I always thought that was a pretty name.”
“It is. That just leaves the last one.”
“I think it is sad to name cats only after the dead,” Altair said.
“Well for you it is honoring them,” Kabir said, sitting up off his arm again to look at them. “It isn’t so common we get to honor our brothers who fell.”
“I suppose. But Sawsan and her daughters aren’t named like that. They are things that are beautiful. Things that... that make me happy.” Kabir’s face grew soft. “I think a son or two of hers should be allowed the same treatment.”
Kabir chuckled. “And what did you have in mind? Farhan? Amaan? Aatif? Or maybe Naadir? Heh, names for boys are very boring aren’t they?”
“They can be. But I rather like Kabir,” Altair said.
Kabir stopped, he said face going neutral, eyes going wide. “Me?” confusion coloring his face.
“Yes. If you’ll allow it.”
“But... why me?” He didn’t understand and his confusion was endearing. “I know your cats are your most precious things. You love them more than anything. Why would you want to name one after me?”
“Is it not obvious?” Altair asked him. “Because you are also precious to me,” and he just sort of moved on his own and kissed Kabir on the lips. For a moment he didn’t even realize what he was doing until Kabir kissed him back. Then he pulled back, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean that,” he blurted out.
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