Yasmini and her special friends among her half-sisters liked to play on the terrace. Here they gossiped and bickered and played fantastic games, dressed up their pets in infants” clothing and nursed them, pretended to run a household and cook for their imaginary families.
Dorian had reached the foot of the staircase that led UP to the terrace, when a scream from above froze him with one foot on the bottom step. Instantly he recognized Yasmini’s voice, but what slashed his heart was the high pitched agony that filled it. He sprang forward and flew up the ancient staircase driven by a series of those terrible cries, each shriller and more chilling than the one before.
“Tinni, the vervet monkey, sat on the top of the dome of the old tomb. When he grew tired of being nursed and dressed like a human baby, he would escape to this favourite perch where Yasmini could not reach him.
Now he scratched under his arm sleepily, his blue eyelids drooping over his big brown eyes. Every few minutes he would sway and almost fall from his perch, then jerk awake and blink down at the gardens spread below him.
Suddenly he smelt something that brought him fully awake: cinnamon cakes. There was nothing in all the world that Jinni loved more. He stood. to his full height, using his long tail to balance on the rounded plaster dome, and looked around him eagerly.
Two boys came down one of the paths through the shrubbery. Even from this distance Jinni could see that their jaws were working and that the biggest of the pair carried a covered silver dish. Jinni did not need his eyes to tell him what was under the cover. He made a small, greedy, chattering sound, and skipped down off the dome and swung into the top of the peepul tree, which spread its wide branches below the terrace.
Hidden by the thick foliage, he watched the two boys settle down in a hidden corner of the gardens and place the silver dish between them. Zayn al-Din lifted the cover and Jinni stiffened his tail and rolled his eyes as he saw the mound of yellow cakes. He was torn between greed and fear. He knew Zayn al-Din only too well. He had a healed scar over one eye where a stone had struck him. Zayn was an expert with a slingshot. On the other hand, the cakes were still warm from the clay oven and their aroma was tantalizing, irresistible.
Jinni shot down the trunk of the peepul, keeping it between him and the boys. When he reached the ground he peered out from behind the tree. When he was sure he was still unobserved he left his hiding-place and darted across the lawn. From the depths of one of the shrubs he stole another look. He puffed out his cheeks and wiggled his nose. The scent of cinnamon was much stronger here.
He watched Zayn lift one of the cakes to his mouth and bite into its fluffy yellow delights.
al-Mall Abubaker was the other boy, one of Zayn al-Din’s numerous half-brothers. He stood up and went to one of the Casuarina trees near the outer wall, and pointed UP into the branches.
“There is a hawk nesting there,” he called to Zayn, who stood up and waddled across to join him. They had their backs turned to the silver dish and their heads were thrown back as they discussed the shaggy nest in the branches high above them.
“Perhaps it’s -a peregrine,” Zayn said hopefully.
“We can take the chicks when they are fledged.” Jinni gathered his courage. He shot out from under the shrub, and covered the open ground in a grey streak.
He reached the dish and filled both fists with the sticky cakes.
He stuffed them into his mouth until his pouches “bulged to the point of bursting. Half the cakes remained in the dish and he tried to fill his paws, but he couldn’t manage them all, so he dropped those he already held and started again.
“The monkey!” Zayn’s dreaded voice screeched behind him and Jinni knew he had been discovered. In his haste to escape he sent the dish flying, and raced away back to the safety of the peepul tree. He scattered a trail of broken cinnamon cakes across the lawn behind him.
As he sped up the trunk and reached the safety of the first high branch he ducked his head and looked back. The boys were in close pursuit, shouting their protests and outrage.
“Shaitan! Devil monkey!
Pig animaW Jinni reached the top branches and crouched in a fork.
He felt safe here, and started to munch the remnants of the cakes that had survived the flight and the climb up the tree.
Below him Zayn opened the pouch on his belt and brought out his slingshot. He unwound the leather thongs and stretched them between spread arms, then he selected a perfectly rounded pebble, and fitted it into the pocket at the end of the double thongs. He moved around the base of the tree until he had a clear shot at Jinni.
“The monkey bobbed his head and opened his eyes wide, making a terrifying face to frighten him away.
“I will teach you such a lesson that you will never steal my cakes again,” Zayn promised him, and began to wind up for the throw. Round and round his head he swung the sting, building up speed until the thongs thrummed through the air, and then, at that exact moment, he released it. The pebble was a hissing white blur, too swift for Jinni to dodge. It struck the monkey’s left arm below the elbow, and the bone snapped.
Jinni screeched and sprang high in the air, his broken arm flapping. As he came down he tried to grab at a branch but the arm would not respond and he tumbled halfway down the tree before he could catch hold with his right paw.
The two boys were shouting and dancing with excitement.
“You hit him, Zayn!” Abubaker exulted.
“I will kill you, you thieving shaitan!” Zayn was fitting another stone into the pocket of the sling. Jinni clawed his way single-armed back up the tree. He was whining and t gibbering with pain as he reached the long branch that extended out over the terrace.
Zayn launched the next stone, which sang through the air and hit the branch just under Jinni’s chest. He sprang in the air and raced towards the end of the branch with his broken arm dangling and swinging. He knew where he could find protection. Yasmini had heard his , screams and, though she did not know what had caused them, she was calling him urgently.
“Jinni! What is it, MY baby? Come to your mama.” From the end of the branch Jinni launched himself, and dropped into Yasmini’s arms, sobbing and chattering with pain and terror.
“Come!” Zayn shouted at Abubaker.
“Find a stick! We will finish him off!” At the foot of the staircase the gardeners had left a pile of bamboo stakes. Each of the boys grabbed one and ran up the staircase.
Puffing and laughing, Zayn was the first to reach the terrace. He stopped short when Yasmini confronted him with Jinni in her arms.
“Don’t come near me!” she yelled at him.
“Leave us alone, Zayn al-Din.” For a moment Zayn was disconcerted by the fury of the small girl, but then Abubaker came up behind him and pushed him forward.
“It’s only Yasmini. She is a baby. I will hold her. You grab the monkey.” Yasmini retreated before them, clutching the terrified animal to her chest, but they followed her threateningly, brandishing the bamboo stakes, egging each other on.
“The shaitan stole my cakes.
I am going to kill him.”
“I will kill you first,” Yasmini shouted back at him, but her show of bravery was starting to crumble and tears welled in her eyes. She came up against the low wall of 9A the rainwater cistern, and stood there, trapped and desperate. Her half-sisters had deserted her and run off at the first sign of trouble from their elder brother. Yasmini was alone.
Her lips quivered, but she tried to keep her voice strong.
“Leave us alone. I will tell alAmhara. He will punish you for what you have done to Jinni.” Zayn jeered, “You will tell alAmhara?
You frighten me! Al-Amhara is a pig-eating infidel.” They crowded her up against the cistern. Suddenly Abubaker jumped forward and grabbed her around the neck.
“Get the monkey!” he shouted, and Zayn seized Jinni by the leg.
The three struggled and staggered around the terrace fighting over the screeching animal. Yasmini was clinging to Jinni with all her strength, screaming through her tears. Abubaker prised her fingers free one at a time, until she lost her grip and Zayn snatched the monkey from her.
“Give him back,” she pleaded.
“Please don’t hurt him any more.”
Zayn held Jinni up by the scruff of the neck.
“Come and get him then, before I kill the filthy thing.” Suddenly Jinni twisted in his grip and sank his teeth Into Zayn’s wrist. Zayn let out a howl of pain and surprise, lifted Jinni over his head and hurled him into the rainwater cistern. The monkey disappeared beneath the water, then splashed to the surface and swam to the edge. Zayn held up his bleeding wrist and stared at it. Then his sallow face darkened with fury.
“He bit me!
Look at the blood!” He ran to the edge of the cistern, reached out with the bamboo stake and pushed Jinni’s head under the water. As soon as it bobbed up again he thrust it under once more, now hooting with sadistic joy.
“Let us see how well it can swim!” Yasmini tore herself out of Abubaker’s grip and jumped on to Zayn’s back. She screamed as she pommelled his head and shoulders. Zayn kept on hooting and jeering, taking no notice of her screams and her attack. He went on drowning Jinni, ducking his head every time it reappeared.
Jinni was weakening swiftly and sneezing water, his fur sodden and clinging to his skull. He no longer had the strength or the air in his lungs to scream, but Yasmini’s voice rang louder and shriller.
“Leave him! I hate you.
Leave my baby!” Dorian raced up the last few steps and stopped at the top of the staircase. It took him a moment to grasp the meaning of the confused scene before him. He had been overtaken by a wild panic at the prospect of finding Yasmini badly injured and dying, but his fear gave way to cold anger as he saw what the two big boys were doing to her and Jinni. He launched himself at them.
Abubaker saw him coming and spun round to face him. He lifted the bamboo to hit at his head but Dorian ducked under the swing and crashed his shoulder into the centre of the other boy’s chest, sending him reeling away.
Abubaker struck the side wall of the terrace, and dropped the bamboo. Then he turned and fled to the head of the staircase and disappeared down it.
Dorian’s only concern now was to get at Zayn and rescue Yasmini.
He flew at him, and Zayn turned to meet him, but he was hampered by the small girl straddling his back and his swing with the bamboo was clumsy. Dorian blocked it and seized the stake with both hands. They stumbled in a circle, both tugging and heaving at the stake.
“Get JinnW Dorian gasped at Yasmini, and obediently she jumped down off Zayn’s back and ran to the cistern She reached in and grabbed the monkey as he floundered weakly. She dragged him out, sopping wet, coughing and sneezing water from his mouth and nose. She held him to her chest and crouched below the parapet of the cistern, trying to avoid the two boys who were struggling and pushing each other around the terrace. al Zayn was heavier than Dorian, and taller by two inches.
He was starting to dominate this straight trial of strength.
“I
am going to drown you just like the monkey, you devil-eyed infidel,” he threatened, and heaved with all his weight on the bamboo stave.
In his fury Dorian had forgotten everything that Tom had ever taught him, but now the insult steadied him and he let Zayn pull him in close. Then he released his grip on the stave and bunched his right fist. He shifted his feet, anchoring himself.
“Use the turn of the body, and the swing of the shoulders,” Tom had coached him.
“Go for the nose.” Dorian launched the punch, his hands hardened by riding and his shoulders conditioned by swimming. He caught Zayn flush on the nose, which squashed like an overripe plum in a flood of scarlet juice.
Zayn dropped the bamboo and clutched with both hands at his injured face.
His eyes flooded with tears of pain, and blood ran from between his fingers and dripped on to his white kanzu.
Dorian set himself up for the next punch. Tom had shown him how to find the point of the jaw, making him clench his teeth and feel for it under his own ear. Dorian let the next punch go with all his weight coming in behind it.
Zayn had never heard of this kind of fighting. Making a hammer out of the hand and using it to beat in an opponent’s face was something alien to his idea of combat.
He had been taught to wrestle, but enjoyed it only when matched against a lighter, weaker boy.
The blow to his nose had flabbergasted him, the surprise even more crippling than the pain. He was unprepared for the next blow. It felt like a cannonball into the Side of his face, and his senses tottered.
Dorian did not yet have the weight or power to drop him senseless.
But the punch struck exactly where he had aimed, and with enough force to send Zayn reeling backwards, unable to see through his streaming eyes, unable to defend himself, his legs turning boneless under him.
Then, to Zayn’s bewilderment, there came another blow, slamming into his fat lips. He felt one of his front teeth break off, and the warm metallic taste of his own blood filled his mouth. With both arms covering his face he stumbled blindly to the head of the stairs.
Behind him Dorian picked up the bamboo, and be laboured his back and shoulders. Even through the pain of his mouth and nose, the sting of the bamboo made Zayn leap forward onto the top step.
Dorian swung the cane again, and Zayn yelled as though he had been stung by a scorpion and lost his footing. He went rolling in a tangle of arms and legs to the bottom, and crawled away sobbing wildly. Then he heard Dorian rushing down the stairs behind him, and looked back over his shoulder through swimming eyes.
The infidel’s face was contorted into a crimson mask of fury, those pale green eyes were blazing and he had the bamboo held high in both hands. Zayn hauled himself to his feet and spat out the broken tooth in a spray of blood.
He tried to run, but something was broken in his right foot, and he hopped, limped and lumbered away across the lawn, in pursuit of the fleeing Abubaker.