*WARNING: Suspeciously accurate drug use*
Forty-five days later. In the Southern region of Mesopotamia.
The team rode their camels south along the great river. After a long journey from Babilim, all were weary and tired.
Their destination was a southern city called Al Basra.
It was given that name due to its crucial role in safeguarding Mesopotamia's southern borders; others called it the overseer. A city by that name makes a child wonder what kind of a military city it was, but Al Basra was more than just a watcher; it was paradise.
The city was built next to the great river, yet a split made the river stream go in two paths. The first path passed through the city's center and extended deeper into Mesopotamia. The second path surrounded the city's western half.
Al Basra had no walls as she opened her arms to everyone. Because of that, many great minds worldwide came to it and lived there. It was a city of poets, philosophers, scientists, scholars, musicians, and artists.
Whoever heard about such a city outside of Mesopotamia thought of it as a myth; Whoever heard of it inside Mesopotamia thought of it as heaven on earth.
Al Basra had a uniform color for its buildings: yellowish beige.
The team arrived at the western river stream. They disembarked from their camels and stood beside them, each holding the camel's leash.
Talal looked at the city, sighed and said, "Finally here."
"Do you think our cargo boat arrived?" Numair asked Talal.
"If things went well, it should have arrived twenty days ago," Talal replied.
"Where are they going to deliver my package?" Taz asked.
"It's going to be sent to the military outpost of this city," Hilal replied.
"When can I go to receive it, Hilal?" Taz asked.
"After we house our camels on a farm, I'll go with you to take it," Hilal replied.
"You never told us what's in that package of yours," Talal said.
"My belongings," Taz replied.
"Really? In a box sealed with the royal symbol?" Talal asked in doubt.
"Yes," Taz replied.
"Do you take me for a fool?" Talal replied.
"No," Taz replied.
Talal looked at Hilal and said, "After we house our camels, we're going with her."
"Understood," Hilal replied.
They walked towards the foldable wooden bridge beside a small clay hut where an old man with his three sons sat.
They approached them and greeted them. The old man and his sons stood up and greeted them back.
"You must be Al-Mutahirun," The old man said.
"Indeed, we are. I'll place our camels under your care. We will come back for them after a week," Talal said.
After the team handed their camels to the old man and his sons, Taz turned to her camel and bid it farewell as she stroked its neck. She handed the camel over and followed the team to the bridge.
The bridge at the time was open as no ships were expected to pass that day.
They crossed the bridge and walked together into the city.
"Do you want me to rent the usual place?" Roheen asked Talal.
"Yes, after that, check with the port administration if our goods have arrived," Talal replied.
The team was split into two as they reached a spacious crossroads: the first was Taz, Hilal and Talal. They marched forward to get to the Military outpost.
The second was the remaining. They went in the north direction.
Taz walked with Hilal and Talal and admired the city's beautiful architecture and lively roads, but one thing stood out.
There were no horses or carriages, only crowds and patrol guards. She asked Hilal about it as she felt more comfortable around him. He always treated her nicely and showed only a gentle brotherly smile.
His reply to her was that the city doesn't allow horses or carriages to keep the roads clean and reduce the waste found in the streets.
After all, Al Basra was the Jewel of Mesopotamia. Its people and admirers always expected her to look welcoming, gentle, and elegant.
They kept walking until they heard a commotion in the distance. As they approached it, a crowd stood around two men on a wooden platform.
For the first time in her life. Taz was about to witness a one-of-a-kind battle called Al He-Jaa.
This kind of battle is famous and known among the city's people. In it, two poets face off against each other, using only the sharpness of their wit and tongues. Using anything other than that, you lose.
Taz stopped her teammates and asked them to watch the battle as she explained that she had only read about it in books but never witnessed one in person. Talal agreed to her request as one of the poets was his favorite, and he goes by the name of the poet of liquor.
They gathered behind the crowd and watched.
The poets struck each other with complex and advanced speech. Each line was spelled and spoken with perfection. The battle kept on going for an hour. Neither was out of words to insult the other. And neither ran out of facts or poetic verses. This was a battle of wit, a clash between two master-class poets.
But in the end, the poet of liquor crushed his opponent with his last verse:
"Many words contained wisdom gained recession in the market of those who do not understand.
A star is small in sight, and the guilt is for the witness, not the star for its smallness.
A man who knows, and knows that he knows, is a scholar, so know him. A man who knows and doesn't know that he knows is unaware, so wake him up. A man who doesn't know, and knows that he doesn't know, is ignorant, so teach him. A man who doesn't know, and doesn't know that he doesn't know, is a fool, so avoid him."
After hearing the verse, the crowd couldn't help but cheer and clap their hands in amazement. From their reaction, the other poet knew he had lost the battle.
The poets exchanged words of appreciation and compliments in a show of sportsmanship and constructive rivalry. They had a long and grueling battle, but the drunken poet's skill and fluency remain unmatched and unrivaled.
Talal smiled as he watched the long battle end; his smile was rare, as he was always known in the military as the man who always frowns. He turned to his right, wanting to see the reaction of his team members.
Hilal was clapping his hands slowly and bore a still expression, he wasn't interested in poetry, but he clapped to go along with the crowd.
Taz was clapping her hands and jumping in her place, filled with excitement. She giggled almost to the point of laughter as she was happy to see a display of masterful skills in front of her.
Talal watched her; he saw Taz acting like her true self, freely and openly. That was considered an observable behavior to him, as she always displayed little to no character and never talked about herself. Deep down, he knew she didn't trust the team.
After the crowd dispersed, the team left and headed to the military outpost.
Along the way, Talal wanted to talk to Taz about her thoughts on Al He-Jaa's battles, but as he was about to speak, he grew reluctant and decided to keep his silence. He was sure that Taz would give him shallow replies and close-ended answers, and it wasn't worth the effort for him.
They reached the outpost after a while.
Unlike any outpost Taz had seen, this one was different.
It wasn't a wild place with stone walls or a grid of tents bearing the flag. It was a large palace, more significant than her uncle's villa.
They approached the gate, and the guards that watched the gate stopped them. The guards asked them about their names, ranks and the purpose of their visit.
"My name is Tanaz, and I have no rank. I am here to take my package," Taz said.
"If you're not affiliated with the military, you can't go in," The first guard said.
Talal stepped in, introduced himself and told them his rank. Then, he explained to them what kind of package Taz wanted to take and presented her affiliation with the military.
A package with the royal symbol was of great importance, and a person who belonged to the generals' fighters was not a person to be hindered from performing their duties.
The guards quickly apologized and let them in.
Before they went inside, Hilal informed Talal that he needed to leave and claimed he had a private matter to attend to. To which Talal allowed.
Talal and Taz passed through the gate and walked on a paved path leading straight to the building, surrounded by lush gardens.
They reached the lieutenant's office, knocked on his door and went inside.
Talal and Taz stood in front of the officer side by side. Talal introduced himself first, then Taz.
"I came here to claim my package," Taz said.
"What type of package are you referring to?" The lieutenant asked.
"A one with the royal symbol. The sender of the package is named Princess Ra'ina," Taz replied.
The room grew silent after hearing that name. Royal packages often get transported from city to city but are always received by other royals or nobles. In this case, the receiver of this package was an unknown woman, which made the officer suspicious of Taz.
The lieutenant looked at Talal and said, "Do you vouch for her Identity, Major?"
"The princess's husband handed the girl to me in person. If she turned out to be a spy, I would gladly hand over the advisor's head to you, lieutenant," Talal answered confidently.
The lieutenant smiled and laughed at Talal's answer. Not in mockery but in amazement at his commitment and bravado.
"Your tribe never fails to impress, Talal," The lieutenant replied.
He pulled a letter from his drawer, stood before his desk, and looked at Taz.
He held the letter and said, "I had to confirm your identity. Since this letter provided no useful information."
"What does it say?" Taz asked.
The lieutenant looked at the letter and said, "The princess's son wrote the details. It was perfect from the start until I read the last part."
Taz furrowed her eyebrows.
"It says, 'The receiver of this package is a short angry girl; she also tends to make terrible jokes. If she tried to attack you, throw a piece of meat at her, it should give you time to flee.' That's all," The lieutenant quoted.
Taz crossed her arms and sighed in frustration while Talal wondered what relationship these two had.
The lieutenant threw the letter on his desk and instructed the two to wait. He went to a hidden door and opened it.
He dragged out a large golden chest with the royal symbol on top, placed it in front of Taz, and returned to his chair.
Taz approached the chest and kneeled to open it as Talal stood behind her. He wondered what items this package would have and how valuable they were.
She opened it, and inside was a pair of swords. One was broad, straight, short, and the other was slim, curved, and long.
The sheathes were identical, green with golden thorns engraved on them.
Beside them was a pouch of dinars, a filled, dark shoulder bag, and an elegant silver bracelet.
Taz wore the bracelet and strapped the short sword to her hip and the long sword to her back. She then placed the pouch inside her bag, hung the bag on her shoulder, and stood up.
The lieutenant looked at Taz and said, "Good?"
"Thank you for keeping my belongings safe, lieutenant," Taz replied.
Talal and Taz exchanged their farewells with the lieutenant and left.
They walked along the river on their way back after crossing the bridge.
Taz looked onto the river and saw small boats; they transported people as if they were the same as the carriages she used to see at Babilim, which made her think about how nice it would be if she ever used one of those boats to explore the city. But as she remembered her current situation.
"Not in this life," She thought to herself.
Talal later asked Taz about her swords, as she claimed in Babilim that she only uses one.
She replied that swords are used in different situations. In close quarters the short one was suitable. The curved blade was better against foes with longer weapons; sometimes, those foes could be beasts.
"Is the curved blade made out of silver?" Talal wondered.
"Both swords are made of silver," Taz replied.
"I'm impressed. What are their names?" Talal asked.
"The man who gave them to me named the short one Faisal and the other one Muhannad," Taz replied.
"Noble names. Why did he choose them?" Talal asked.
"Because they're mindless tools. Only live to serve their master," Taz replied.
Talal pondered on her reply. He wasn't sure if Taz was serious about her answer or if the names were chosen for mockery.
After a while, they arrived at their temporary residence.
It was a small two-floor house with a canal view and a small fence with a tiny garden.
The team always rented this house on their visits to Al Basra since none wanted to sleep in shared bedrooms in nearby military outposts. It was common for high-ranking combatants to choose temporary homes since their wealth and income allowed it.
They went inside the house and passed through the hallway. They reached a small living room that had all the windows open.
Roheen, Numair, and Fadi sat on benches facing one another, with a square table in the middle. They drank spiced tea and chatted casually until they noticed that Taz and Talal had returned.
Talal asked the team if Hilal had returned, and they replied, "No."
Talal sat down with them and asked for some tea; he was tired from the trip. He looked at Taz and insisted that she sits as well.
Taz placed her bag on the ground, put her swords on it, and sat beside Roheen.
Roheen looked at Taz and asked, "Do you want some tea?"
To which Taz replied, "I prefer coffee."
Talal looked at Fadi and asked, "Did you buy coffee on your way here?"
To which Fadi replied, "No."
Taz stood up and said, "I'll go to the market and return."
As she started to walk out, Talal called for her and said, "Take one of your swords with you."
Taz turned to Talal and said, "What if the guards mistook me for a criminal?"
"You should be fine; show them your medallion," Roheen said.
"I never received one," Taz replied.
Roheen looked at Talal in silence.
Talal looked away in embarrassment and scratched his beard.
"You forgot to give her the medallion, didn't you?" Roheen said.
"Anyhow, take mine, Tanaz. Don't forget to return it to me," Talal said. He took off his medallion and handed it over to Taz.
Taz inspected the medallion and saw the symbol it carried.
It was the mace of Utu. In Mesopotamia, the mace stood for justice, morality, and truth. It reminded the soldiers who carried it to be ethical and fair while doing their duties.
Taz looked at Talal and asked, "The mace of Utu? Does that mean you're under the authority of the temple?"
"No, the royal family prohibited the temple from having an army of its own. It's been like that for centuries," Talal answered.
"I'm surprised you recognized the symbol instantly," Roheen said.
Taz wore the medallion around her neck and grabbed her short sword. Then she left the house.
Shortly after, Hilal came back. He carried an Item in his hand that was wrapped in silk.
Talal looked at him and said, "You got it?"
Hilal smiled, unwrapped the silk and placed it on the table.
It looked like black paste and had the strong smell of wet grass. It went by the name hashish or the sacred plant by its adorers.
Numair and Talal grew excited after they saw it and eagerly asked Hilal if he brought tobacco and pipes, to which he replied, "Yes."
Hilal placed the pipes and tobacco on the table.
Numair hurried to the kitchen, brought a plate, and started preparing the plant to be smoked.
First, he poured the tobacco onto the plate and picked it clean of impurities. He then brought a knife, curled the paste into a ball shape, and stuck it on its tip.
Fadi, in the meanwhile, brought a lit candle, as they needed a flame to finish preparing it.
He gave the candle to Numair and sat, waiting eagerly.
Numair took the candle and placed it closer to the tobacco-filled plate. He hovered the paste over the candle to warm and soften it. To which it did after a short while.
The paste started heating up and dripped its oil weakly.
Numair placed the paste on the tobacco and pushed it out of the knife's tip.
He started mixing the paste with the purified tobacco and kept doing so until he saw the tobacco turning from light brown to black.
He looked at everyone, smiled and said, "It's ready!"
Everyone grabbed a pipe and started filling it with mixed tobacco. After that, they passed the candle, lit their wooden pipes and started smoking.
Talal inhaled a puff, kept it in for a few moments, and exhaled. The high hit him hard since he smoked a high-quality substance.
He looked at Hilal and said, "This is great! Where did you buy this?"
Hilal laughed, then said, "My dealer is the same man who supplies Al Hashashin."
Talal giggled, then said, "Now I understand why those pricks kill themselves over this plant."
They all laughed, high as the clouds.
Numair looked at Fadi and croaked, "Close the windows, Fadi. Do you want the guards to find out about us?"
Truthfully, Numair didn't care about the guards. He only wanted to choke the pure air of the house with smoke.
Fadi understood that and closed the windows. He enjoyed this plant's high and thought it would be a waste not to let it last longer.
They kept smoking and chatting carelessly, with no worries or sadness: only them and a pot of sweet-spiced tea.
After a while, Taz returned to the house. The smell slipped into her nose as she touched the door handle, but Taz didn't know it at first.
Taz stepped inside and strolled into the hallway. She heard laughs and chatter and saw clouds of smoke floating in the air. She peered into the living room and saw the mess.
Talal rested on his back and looked at the ceiling with widened eyes.
Numair squatted on top of the bench. He smoked his pipe and pondered on a thought intensely. None knew what it was, but since Numair wasn't a bright man, he probably thought of silly matters.
Roheen slept deeply on the bench. She snored and held her lit pipe. The plant proved to be potent and not for the inexperienced.
Fadi and Hilal argued about the existence of orgasms for beasts, and their theory was. Since beasts needed to reproduce, an orgasm was required to make the male beasts feel pleasure or gain from the tiring process.
Taz walked to them slowly, placed a cloth wrap on the table and opened it; It had honeycombs inside.
Talal looked at the sweets, sat up quickly and chirped, "Honeycombs!"
Taz looked at him and said, "I bought them for everyone to eat."
Talal, still intoxicated, smiled brightly at Taz's gift. He couldn't help but hug her tightly from her waist and muttered in a thankful tone, "I love you."
I love you. Those words caught Taz off guard. She only heard those words from her mother after she slapped Taz for breaking her favorite plate. Yasmine only said it to comfort Taz after seeing her crying from guilt.
But for Taz to hear those words from a man, it hit her differently. She experienced new feelings and didn't know how to respond to such heavy terms.
Talal was still hugging Taz tightly and rested his head on her stomach.
Taz responded gently with a smile, "Make sure you eat well," and stroked his hair awkwardly with her rough hand.
She looked back and hoped no one saw her stroke Talal's hair, but to her surprise, the men were already eating the honeycombs.
Talal noticed it and shouted, "Don't eat all of the honeycombs, you cunts!!"
He let go of Taz and jumped in with them to eat.
Taz walked to the dining table at the end of the room and smiled at what had happened.
She placed the second cloth wrap on the table. It had ten sticks of skewered meat wrapped with two loaves of freshly baked bread to suck in the meat's juices.
Taz started eating, but something was different. The meat tasted good... too good. She thought the cook who made them was a master at his profession, but the moment she stepped into the room, the smoke sneaked into her lungs and started taking its effect.
The effect grew stronger the longer she stayed in, and she ate like it was her last meal. She chewed slowly and felt pleasure in the food's taste, so much so that she started humming softly and closed her eyes.
The only thought that crossed her mind when she ate was that she never wanted this euphoria to stop.
After she finished her food, she looked at the bag in sadness. Usually, Taz would bring another serving of food, but she felt comfortable in the chair and decided not to.
At this point, her legs felt stingy yet soothing. Her body felt heavy, and her mind was at ease. With that, she pushed the cloth wrap away, crossed her arms on the table, rested her head on them, and took a hashish-induced nap.
In the evening time.
Roheen and Talal walked to Taz slowly.
Talal stepped closer and nudged her shoulder gently, but she didn't respond. He turned to Roheen and said, "Did she smoke with us?"
"I don't think so, no," Roheen replied.
Talal leaned closer, grabbed Taz's shoulder and shook her gently.
Taz opened her eyes, looked at Talal, and poked his nose. She giggled and said, "Your nose is funny."
Roheen chuckled unwillingly at Taz's action.
Talal chuckled as he stood up. He turned to Roheen and said, "She's high."
Roheen stepped closer to Taz, leaned toward her and asked softly, "Do you want to have dinner?"
Taz looked at Roheen, nodded and hummed. She didn't take long to gather her energy. She stood and wobbled a bit, still shaking off the drowsiness of sleep.
Talal and Roheen guided her to the door. She squinted her eyes and placed her hands before them as she stepped out.
"It's too fucking bright," She muttered.
But the streets weren't bright; It was nighttime. The only sources of light were street lamps.
They walked together along the river until they reached their destination. It was a tavern that served both the best food and drinks. It had two floors and a balcony on top.
They went inside.
It was lively. Musicians played to the rhythm of the female dancers to entertain the customers.
The air smelled of alcohol and nuts and the passing smell of sweaty drunks.
Talal asked Taz if she wanted to join the team at the table. She replied that she wanted to eat dinner first, then she'll join them, as her hunger was unbearable.
Roheen pointed to the team's table to notify Taz of their spot, then walked away.
Taz went to the bar counter and sat there in confusion. She never went to a place that served food, only food stands. Even when she stayed at her uncle's villa, she would always get called for food, but never once did she demand it.
While she sat alone like a lost child, an old female worker approached her.
She greeted Taz and asked her what she would like to order.
Taz looked at her and said, "Ten sticks of grilled meat, two loaves of bread, and a mixed fruit juice."
The old woman giggled and said, "Are you buying food for your friends?"
"No, it's for me," Taz replied casually.
The old worker was stunned and raised her eyebrows in confusion while Taz kept looking at her, unaware she had ordered enough food to feed three people. That was one of the negative influences she gained from Nasya.
After Taz dined in her enormous serving, she felt sated and energized.
A man sat next to her and ordered a bottle of wine.
Taz looked at him and was surprised.
He wasn't an ordinary man. He was the infamous poet of liquor.
He was a white man with a thick beard and wore fancy robes and a white turban.
Taz grew excited and muttered, "It's him!"
He looked at her and said, "What are you looking at?"
"You're the poet of liquor!" Taz excitedly replied.
He laughed, then said, "Yes, that's one of the many names I go by."
Taz turned to him and said, "I used to read your poetry at home."
"Used to? Why the fuck did you stop?" He replied.
"We didn't have many of your books in Babilim," Taz replied.
"Babilim, huh? That explains a lot. Those spineless nobles never took my jokes well," He replied.
"Why did the nobles dislike your books?" Taz asked.
"Two things. First, I'm not a Mesopotamian. Second, Nobles are cunts," He replied.
Taz chuckled, and the worker brought a bottle of wine for the poet.
He looked at her and giggled as he opened his bottle.
"Enough about me. What about you? What's your name?" He asked cheerfully.
"You never told me yours," Taz replied.
The poet took a large sip from his bottle and said, "My name is Abu Nawas Al-Hassan."
"My name is Tanaz Al-Dakheel," Taz replied.
Abu Nawas stared at Taz and said, "I was courteous to give you my real name. I expect the same in return, Tanaz."
"It's a long-forgotten name, unworthy to be remembered," Taz replied.
"Humor me, Tanaz," Abu Nawas said.
Taz leaned closer and whispered, "My true name is Tanaz Al-Hayja."
"You're from that tribe," Abu Nawas muttered.
"Do you want to take my head, Abu Nawas?" Taz said.
Abu Nawas leaned on the counter and said, "No, I don't care about politics."
Taz chuckled and said, "You're a strange man, Abu Nawas."
Abu Nawas chuckled, then said, "I wouldn't be the poet of liquor if I acted normally."
They laughed together, as both were outcasts of civil society, yet they found pleasure in each other's company.
"You should become a poet, Tanaz. The world needs more unique characters," Abu Nawas said.
"Any advice from a master class poet is appreciated," Taz replied.
"Drink wine like its water. Only then will the mind be illuminated and unshackled," Abu Nawas said.
"I guess I'll start drinking wine then," Taz cheerfully replied.
Abu Nawas laughed and said, "Spoken like a true poet."
Abu Nawas ordered two more bottles of wine and gave one to Taz.
They lifted their bottles high and chugged on them like they were water. There was one issue with what took place. Taz never drank alcohol. She only drank to impress Abu Nawas. Her face would tense up with each gulp, and sometimes gag a little.
But alcohol doesn't discriminate regarding inciting people to do foolish acts, and Taz experienced it firsthand. She drank and drank, her face went numb, and her limbs felt light soon after her vision darkened.
Talal noticed Taz from the table he was sitting at and walked toward her.
As he approached her.
Abu Nawas looked at him and said, "Drinking in a Tavern isn't against the law, guard."
Talal crossed his arms and said, "I am not a guard, you fruity prick."
Taz drunkenly looked at Talal and slurred, "Oh, Hey there, Talal. I was chatting with Abu Nawas."
Talal grabbed Taz's arm, pulled her and said, "That's good, but we should get you out of this Tavern before you make a mess."
Taz followed along, not knowing what Talal meant.
Talal brought Taz to the canal outside the Tavern. He removed her cloak, placed it over his shoulder, and waited.
Taz wanted to ask Talal about what he was doing. As she tried to speak, she felt the strong urge to barf, bent on the canal's rails, and started vomiting.
Talal watched her as she sprinkled more than usual, along with the chunks of the meat and bread she had previously eaten. It was not a lovely sight, even by his standards.
After Taz finished spoiling the pure canal water, she sat down and rested her back against the rail.
Talal kneeled, looked at her and asked, "Are you feeling better?"
Taz looked back with half-closed eyes and said, "I want to die."
Talal grabbed her shoulder and asked, "Do you want to go back?"
Taz laid down on her side and mumbled, "Everything is spinning."
Talal carried Taz in his arms like she was an overgrown infant.
He steadied her in his arms and grunted, "You're heavier than you look."
Taz chuckled and rested her head on his chest.
Talal walked back home as he carried Taz. She mumbled about random subjects until she said something that caught Talal's attention.
"I thought drinking alcohol was fun," Taz slurred.
"Who told you that?" Talal asked.
"My father used to call alcohol happy juice," Taz replied.
Talal chuckled and said, "He's a funny man. Where's he now?"
"He was murdered, along with my mother," Taz replied.
Talal became silent, and his smile faded.
Taz shed a tear and said, "I miss them...."
Talal sighed in sadness and said, "I am sure they're living happily in the heavens."
Talal reached the house later and placed Tanaz on the bed. He covered Taz with a bedsheet, walked out slowly, and looked at her to ensure she slept.
Talal went to sleep after, as he lost the appetite to drink. Hearing Taz's story saddened him, and he understood why Taz wasn't opening up to the team.
She did it to avoid reliving the pain of losing the ones she cared about.
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The End83Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa82OuDxN0k
