Desert Rhapsody - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The new bandits took over the oasis and everything that had belonged to its former masters. If Jiang Yuan had to put it in inappropriate terms, the newcomers had far, far more youthful vigor. Almost all of them were very young; the sheen of their skin did not lie. The young bandits dragged the wounded away, shouting for someone to come bandage them. Adnan and one surviving black slave were called over. The original occupiers were driven, disgraced and cowed, into the tents that had once held their captives.

Before Jiang Yuan was allowed to bandage her own wounds, she first had to treat Faisal. Some people kept far away from her, afraid that one glance would let the devil drag them down into hellfire. Others were so recklessly bold that poking at the devil seemed like an amusing challenge. These boys killed more viciously than grown men, were crueler at heart than grown men, cursed louder than grown men, and possessed far more curiosity and vindictiveness than grown men. Faisal sat on a sandy leather blanket, staring at Jiang Yuan as if he wanted to eat her alive. The blue-eyed leader ordered, “Fetch me water. I want to bathe. Drag Kuaidao in as well.” Then he left the crowd first without so much as glancing at them.

Jiang Yuan crouched down and looked at Faisal’s misshapen shoulder joint. The agony of a dislocation could make someone think the bone was broken, and it also made them instinctively refuse to let anyone come near. Jiang Yuan merely lifted his hand, and he answered with a furious string of curses.

Jiang Yuan asked, “What’s your name?”

Faisal snarled, “Didn’t you hear? I’m Faisal, damn it-urgh!” He gasped in pain. With a crack, Jiang Yuan had already pushed the bone back into place. She stepped back, stood, and said, “Move your arm.”

Faisal waved his arm in terror, then scrambled three feet away from Jiang Yuan.

“A de-devil!” The young bandit brats around them all gasped and began whispering among themselves. “He can heal broken bones! In an instant!”

“This devil’s pretty capable!”

Jiang Yuan tried to clarify. “It was only… the bone. It had left its original position.” She was not a doctor, after all, and could not produce any proper medical terms. A captive whose hand had been chopped off was forcibly dragged to her side.

“Can you heal this, devil?”

Jiang Yuan dearly wanted to say that she was not called devil, but the title was clearly benefiting her.

“I can’t,” she answered honestly.

The other party was visibly disappointed. Then he raised his blade and brought it down, cutting off the captive’s head. The blade was not quite sharp enough; it took two blows to hack the head free. Jiang Yuan endured the blood spraying across her face. The captive’s shriek was so ghastly it seemed to chill her bones down to the marrow. The head rolled with a thud and a tumble to her rag-wrapped feet, eyes wide open in death. The intensely curious brat still had a hint of expectation on his face.

“What about this?”

“No.” Jiang Yuan simply said, “Only wounds caused by me are wounds I can judge whether I can heal.”

Her words were clearly understood only in fragments, and now the young bandits’ gazes toward her changed slightly.

“Only people he kills can be brought back by him.”

“What a troublesome devil.”

Jiang Yuan: “…”

She was permitted to take the medicine and go find Adnan, so she could apply it and bandage the cuts on her body. The Persia slave women had changed masters and had already begun ingratiating themselves, satisfying the victors’ amusements after the slaughter. There was a line outside a tent in the distance. It seemed that in this place, women could survive no matter what. Jiang Yuan sat amid the moans that had spread across the entire camp, enduring the pain as she used water to wash the sand and grit from her wounds. After washing for a while, she finally remembered to ask him, “Wasn’t the water poisoned?”

The people of Arabia treasured water. In this desert and wasteland, soil that could be planted and clear rivers were worth as much as gold. For these bandits to poison the water was practically a tactic meant to wipe everyone out. Jiang Yuan did not know whether it could be used. Adnan told her it was fine.

“It may even benefit you. That’s the sap of a poisonous cactus. It can numb wounds.”

Adnan told her where this group of bandits had come from. The wind could carry news very far. Not everyone who traveled the main roads was a merchant; Muslims would devoutly journey to Mecca on pilgrimage, while Jerusalem drew all Muslims, Jews, and Christians. Faith in the Supreme, in part, did not distinguish between ethnicity and status. Bandits would not kill them, and sometimes even traveled with them. Certain news would travel swiftly along this road, and one such piece of news was the identity of Abal, the leader of the Blood Eagle Bandit Group.

“His name should be Abal ibn Abd al-Hudhayfa ibn Hamza Shahman al-Emir.”

Adnan opened with a long string of names, and Jiang Yuan was slightly taken aback. There were two ibn’s, which meant his name included both his father’s name and his grandfather’s. In an era when commoners could not even read, his background had to be considerable. Adnan said, “He is the illegitimate son of the Emir Governor. His father had him with a maidservant and gave him a name, but the Emir Governor’s three wives and his four elder brothers refused to acknowledge his right of inheritance. Four years ago, after his father died, the Emir family fell into internal strife over the governorship. His mother was killed, and he was driven out of the family.”
But Abal clearly had not died in the desert the way his elder brother had hoped. A ten-year-old boy of Arabia was already old enough to hold a blade, draw a bow, mount a horse, and kill his enemies. He gathered forces willing to follow him and established the Blood Eagle Bandit Group in the desert. Killing one mere maidservant was not enough to end the Emir family’s internal strife. The fight for the governor’s seat was swept into a political maelstrom. Another powerful family crushed the Emir faction, and the current Emir Governor’s strength was far less than it had once been. Now, he had to pay tribute and taxes to Abal just to keep the city safe and the seat beneath his own backside secure.

Blood Eagle Abal was not yet of age, yet he had already become one of the bandit chiefs who could command the winds and clouds along this trade route. In recent years, it was said that the Emir Governor had squeezed the common people dry, then secretly bought off mercenaries and bandit groups to wipe out Abal’s forces. The Blood Eagle Bandit Group was currently devoted to hunting down these suspicious parties. By the look of it, Adnan and Jiang Yuan were simply innocent bystanders who had been accidentally caught up in this whirlpool.

Jiang Yuan quietly listened to the blue-eyed bandit chief’s illustrious exploits, then summed it up in one sentence: “I suppose he won’t go so far as to make things difficult for us.”

Adnan said, “All bandits under heaven are as close as one family. They trade blades and lives for gold and silver. As long as the ransom is enough, Blood Eagle will let us go.”

The sky was gradually brightening. The bloody stench lingering through the camp had yet to fade, and as the heat rose, the stink of death was already beginning to spread. The young bandits opened the spice bundles with careless, wasteful hands and sprinkled the spices over themselves to cover the smell. The sight made Adnan’s heart ache. “What a waste. It truly pains me.” But they no longer belonged to Adnan.

Someone came to call Jiang Yuan and Adnan into the tent. Abal had already executed Kuaidao, and now he had time to spare for them. Jiang Yuan had long expected this meeting, and besides, Adnan still had to discuss the new ransom amount with him. They walked into the tent. The sand inside was still wet, stained with a bloody color that water could not wash away. Abal was stroking the falcon perched in the crook of his arm. He sat with one knee bent amid a pile of gold, silver, and jeweled treasures, his scimitar placed at his side. He glanced sideways at them, his face expressionless.

If Abal resembled his mother, then Jiang Yuan could indeed see the beauty of the maidservant who had tempted the governor into sowing his seed and bearing an illegitimate son. He was very handsome, with deep blue eyes, fair skin, and short, curling hair that was still damp, hanging down to his shoulders. The fresh headscarf he had changed into was dazzlingly white, secured crookedly and casually on his head with a jeweled band. The collar of his white robe was unfastened, revealing a long, graceful neck. Even the fingers with which he fed pieces of meat to the falcon were long and slender, blood dripping from them.

Strangely enough, Jiang Yuan had met few people who could sit in a scattered pile of gemstones like this and still, without any attempt to conceal their looks, shine so brilliantly. The fine bone structure of the people of Arabia was probably one reason. A tent in a place like this was naturally not made with much refinement. Sunlight streamed down through the holes and fell across him. The entire room was rich with fragrance, clearly having been thoroughly steeped in Adnan’s spices as well. Before Abal could even speak, Adnan dropped to his knees with a thud.

His eyes filled with admiration, he extended both hands and sincerely chanted, “These treasures of mine have finally found the master they deserve. Look at you, your face like the full moon, your features so handsome-seated among them, you lose none of your radiance. I saw with my own eyes how bravely you slew the enemy, and every one of the subordinates you led was valiant beyond words. I am old now, my steps faltering, but when I look upon young men like you, it is as though I have seen the rising sun, and joy blooms in my heart.” Abal nodded, accepting every word of the flattery as his due. “Get up. Your gems and spices are of good quality. I like them very much.”

Jiang Yuan: “…” She had never known before that Adnan was this good at bootlicking.

I can’t write any more, so I’ll break the chapter here and go to sleep.

Probably the male lead with the longest name in history. And not Mary Sue at all.

Naming conventions among the people of Arabia: ibn means “son of XX.” Therefore, the first part is the given name, the first section after ibn is the father’s name, the second section is the grandfather’s name, and the last is the family name.

Thus, Abal ibn Abd al-Hudhayfa ibn Hamza Shahman al-Emir means: his name is Abal al-Emir, his father is Abdul Hudhayfa, and his grandfather is Hamza Shahman. Hudhayfa and Shahman are bynames. Abal is an illegitimate son and not yet of age, so he has no byname.