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2 |Al Lixbuna, Islamic Iberia Caliphate of Córdoba (Modern Day Lisbon, Portugal) 989 AD
Fatima Halabi’s heart raced as her lips pressed against his, his thick beard and mustache tickling her face, the shocking blond hair just one of a myriad of things that attracted her to his forbidden embrace. For it was forbidden. Her love was not hers to give, nor were her favors. Those all belonged to her father. He alone could barter her future, her feminine assets, to the eventual betterment of their family’s position in the Caliphate.
And she had resigned herself, willingly, to that fate.
Until a month ago.
She had seen the Vikings before. Fierce, proud men, their striking hair, so different, the first thing one noticed when they mixed with the locals. And their clothing, so distinctly different from the flowing robes she was so accustomed to seeing, fascinated her. It immediately had her wondering what Viking women wore.
And that was the question that had started this entire affair, an affair that had to stop, yet an affair she couldn’t resist continuing.
“What do Viking women wear?”
It had been an innocent enough question, though asked out of turn. It wasn’t her place to speak to male guests, and her father had admonished her, apologizing to their honored visitor, Prince Magnus Hamundarson, for her breach of protocol.
Yet Magnus hadn’t minded. In fact, he had brushed off the apology as unnecessary, and eagerly answered the question, addressing her directly, rather than the others gathered in the room.
He had treated her as an equal, something no man had ever done.
And it had empowered her, if only for those few, precious moments.
It was a feeling she began to crave, and she had done something foolish. Dangerous. Rebellious.
She had sent him a message.
An innocent message.
If she weren’t Muslim and female.
If sent to a Muslim man, she would fully expect him to reveal her transgression to her father immediately upon receipt.
Yet she hadn’t feared that from this man.
He was different.
He respected her without knowing her.
The response had been swift, and discrete, Magnus thankfully recognizing the risk she was taking. It made sense. He had been here many times, from what she had been told, and he even spoke and wrote Arabic, though not with the proficiency of a native.
He understood her culture.
Messages continued to be exchanged, her infatuation with the man growing with each one, then a treacherous escalation had been proposed.
A meeting, in person, just the two of them.
It had been the most exciting, erotic, passionate night of her life, and she had fallen madly in love with the man whose arms now enveloped her tightly, infusing a sense of safety and serenity like she had never felt before.
She pushed away, staring up into his vivid blue eyes. “I’ve missed you.”
He smiled at her. “And I you.”
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
Magnus pushed several stray hairs back under her hijab. “Nor I.”
Fatima rested her cheek against his chest, the pounding of his heart comforting. “I can’t stand being apart from you. Every moment is torture.”
His chest expanded as he took a deep breath. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”
She pushed away, just enough to stare up at him, her entire body tensing as she prepared for something tragic to be revealed. “What is it? Please tell me you’re not leaving.”
He frowned. “I am. In two days.”
A single cry escaped, tears flowing down her cheeks as she imagined her life without him. “Will you be back?”
He sighed. “I will try, but it would be at least a year, perhaps longer.”
Her shoulders slumped, her cheek returning to his chest. “By then it will be too late.”
“What do you mean?”
A lump formed in the back of her throat, painful, restricting, and she had to gasp out the words. “A messenger arrived this morning. That’s why I had to see you.”
Magnus took her by the shoulders, holding her out so he could see her tear-streaked face. “A messenger?”
She nodded. “My future husband will arrive tomorrow.”
Magnus drew a quick breath, his jaw dropping, genuinely hurt by the news. “Husband?”
Her shoulders sagged in his arms, her strength abandoning her. “My father has arranged my marriage to Sheik Al-Musawi. The wedding is to occur the day after he arrives.”
Magnus’ arms dropped to his side, the break in his embrace crushing her. “Do you love him?”
Her eyes widened and she reached out for his hands. “Love him? I’ve never even met him! I know nothing of him beyond that he is twenty years my senior and extremely powerful.” Shame washed over her at her next words, her head sagging toward her chest as her eyes burned. “I am to be his fourth wife.”
“Disgusting!”
A brief ember of anger flared at his words. “It’s my culture!”
He lowered his voice, his outrage pushed aside. “I know, I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget how different we are.” He pinched her chin, raising her gaze to his. “Can you say no?”
Fatima’s eyes widened. “Are you mad? To refuse one’s father in these circumstances is unheard of. I will have to marry him. I have no choice. The decision has already been made.”
Magnus’ eyes bored into hers. “But I thought you loved me?”
Her shoulders shook as her tears flowed once more. “Oh, I do. Never doubt that, my love. You are the only man I have ever loved, and you will be the only man I ever love. This man I am being forced to take as my husband will never have my heart as you have mine.” She reached up and squeezed the back of his neck. “I love you more than any woman has ever loved a man, and that will never change.”
He smiled, and she could see the love in his eyes, feel it in his hands as he cupped her face in them, the skin rough from a life hard lived. “Then we can’t let this happen.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
His voice became earnest as he leaned closer. “You must come with me when I leave.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re mad!”
He chuckled. “That may be, but it is your love that drives me mad, and I cannot live knowing you are with another man, a man whom you despise.”
She shook her head, her eyes still wide. “But if I go with you, then my family will pursue us. It could mean war!”
Magnus grunted. “I don’t fear war, and your family will find that we Vikings are not to be trifled with.”
She patted his chest, shaking her head with finality. “No, I can’t have people dying because of me. It would be selfish, and an abomination in the eyes of Allah.” She drew a slow breath, exhaling loudly. “Though I hate what my father has done, I still love him, as I love my mother and my brother, all of whom support this arrangement. To run away would be to dishonor them, and to see them die because of my actions, would be unbearable.” She frowned, grasping his hands in hers. “I fear our destinies lie apart, my love, and there is nothing we can do about it.”
Magnus held her tight, saying nothing, as they shared one last moment together. She would miss this, and she’d never find this feeling in the arms of the elder sheik, in the arms of a stranger that would take her into his bed for a business deal.
“What if I told you there was a way?”
She closed her eyes. “Then I would say that this is a dream, for I cannot fathom any solution to our situation.”
He held her out, staring into her eyes, his smile melting her to her core. “Do you trust me?”
“With my life, you know that!”
His smile broadened. “Are you willing to sacrifice ever seeing your family again to be with me?”
The question was something she hadn’t expected, something until a moment ago she had never considered an answer to. To never see her family again was something simply unfathomable. They were her life. They were everything she knew.
Yet once she married, she would return with her new husband to his home outside Mecca, and the chances of ever seeing her family again were slim. Perhaps she might see them a few more times in her life if there were a purpose, but the prospect of seeing them fewer times than could be counted on her fingers was devastating. Could she sacrifice the possibility of seeing them a few last times, over the course of her entire life, for one far happier all the other days? She closed her eyes, her heart hammering at her decision.
“I am.”
He drew a breath, his chest expanding as she saw the relief spread throughout him. “Then trust me now. Go to your family, pretend you are happy with the arrangement, but be prepared to act when you receive my message.”
She nodded, his instructions suddenly making this very real.
It terrified her.
He held up a finger, his expression becoming serious. “Pack nothing. Take nothing. No one must suspect you planned on leaving. Understood?”
She acknowledged him with a trembling nod. “I-I do, but what do you have planned?”
He grabbed her, holding her tight to his chest as his voice cracked. “A way for us to be together for the rest of our lives, and for your family to never know.”