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Al Lixbuna, Islamic Iberia
Caliphate of Córdoba
989 AD

 

Fatima forced a smile. Her family was clearly ecstatic about the upcoming wedding. She was marrying upward, and that could help drag her family slightly higher on the social scale. The dowry she was receiving was satisfactory, though with her position as Sheik Al-Musawi’s fourth wife, it wasn’t substantial, indicative of how little value her future husband felt she brought to the pairing.

She was certain the same amount could have secured her the position of first wife to a family of equal stature to her own, but as she had learned in her short life, women were commodities to be bartered, and if it weren’t for Magnus, she might be happy to play her part in improving her family’s station.

But she wasn’t, and it was tearing her apart.

She loved her family with all her heart. Her father was a good man, a hardworking man, a man with a respectable business trading goods throughout the Caliphate. She loved her mother and all her siblings, especially her little sister Samira.

Oh, how I would miss you!

She didn’t know what Magnus’ plan was, but he was powerful among the Vikings. She knew little of them, and the prospect of perhaps spending the rest of her days among them was terrifying, though with Magnus’ love, she would adapt, and learn how to fit in with his people.

But the cold!

It was something she couldn’t fathom. Magnus had spoken of how cold it was for much of the year, and when she had compared it to the desert night, he had laughed. He had failed miserably at explaining snow to her, something she had only seen at the top of mountains, and never at her feet. It sounded fascinating, and she did look forward to seeing it.

But to be cold for the rest of her life?

“That’s what fires are for.” He had grinned. “And there are ways to warm each other.”

They had made love, Magnus warming her to her core, and she ached for more nights like that, cold or not.

Yet she still feared whether she could fit in with them. They were so different. Their skin was whiter than any she had seen, most had hair so golden, she longed for her own dark hair to someday be as blond.

I wonder if living there will change it.

Where her family was from, everyone had dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin—though not as dark as some she had seen from the African continent. When her father had moved them from their homeland to Iberia where the end of the trade route he used to transport his goods was located, she hadn’t been happy about it. Yet once she discovered there was land beyond the desert, she had embraced their new home.

It was incredible here, and she loved it. As the years passed, her memories of home faded, and with it the harshness was forgotten. At times she did wish to see it again. The friends she had left behind, and the extended family, were dearly missed.

She sighed. That would be one advantage of marrying Sheik Al-Musawi. She would be returning closer to home. And though it meant leaving all her family here behind, their elevated position could, perhaps one day, allow them to return and enjoy the fruits of their labor, reunited once again.

And how many years will that be?

But at least she would have the chance.

If her beloved Magnus was correct, and he had a way for them to be together, then it had to mean leaving everything she had ever known and loved behind, and traveling to the frigid lands these strange Vikings called home.

And what would she do there? She knew only a smattering of words, most of which couldn’t be repeated in public. Magnus spoke very passable Arabic, facilitating trade between their peoples, but none of the others spoke it, meaning he might be the only one she would have to talk to.

You’ll learn.

And she would. After all, she had quickly mastered the local tongue upon their arrival here, so Norse would merely be a matter of time.

Are you really considering this?

She stared out the window she sat in front of, the sunbaked city she had called home most of her life spread out before her, the ocean in the distance a sparkling blue, a storm on the horizon. Could she leave all this? She glanced over at her family, entertaining her future husband who had paid little attention to her beyond the obligatory greeting. Could she leave all of them?

Her shoulders rolled inward and shook.

Keep it together, otherwise the others will ask questions.

She drew a deep breath, forcing her shoulders back. She stared across the room, her family and friends of her parents gathered, smiles and laughter punctuating the telling of stories and exploits, her future husband the guest of honor and center of attention. He was decades her senior. Far more than the twenty years she had been told, and she wondered if her father had been as surprised as she was. Their greetings suggested they had never met each other, and the very idea her father would marry her off to a complete stranger had hurt her.

She regarded the man, a frown creasing her face as she did so. His skin was mottled with scars and pockmarks, and his teeth were black and rotting. His clothes were as fine as any she had ever seen, and he was undoubtedly wealthy, yet he appeared a pig of a man, and she couldn’t picture ever giving herself to him.

Not willingly.

Not as she had with Magnus.

She tingled with the memory.

It had been forbidden, dangerous, and because of it, all the more thrilling. She had given her virgin self to him willingly, and he had shown her how wonderful the act of love could be between those who truly had feelings for each other.

She shuddered as she wondered how the sheik would react when he discovered she wasn’t a virgin on their wedding night.

He’ll kill you.

She had heard of childhood accidents, and a myriad of possibilities played out in her head as she tried to settle on one that was believable, though none seemed plausible. Could it be that those stories she had heard were all lies to cover up the truth?

She wondered what her mother would say if she were to tell her. Would she tell her father, risking the death of her daughter for dishonoring the family, or would she come up with a tale to tell should the discovery be made, a tale she would back.

None of that would matter if you left with Magnus.

This was true, though she didn’t want to leave to escape her problems. She wanted to leave because she loved the man she was leaving with, and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, to have his babies, to raise those children to be adults, to be Vikings.

She frowned.

I wonder what color their hair will be.

She paused with a troubling thought.

Would her new Viking family accept their children if they were different?

Her eyes burned and she quickly turned her head back to the window, nearly gasping at what she saw. A man, his hair a bright blond, crouched directly under the window. He held up his hand, a piece of folded paper grasped between his thumb and forefinger. She glanced back at the room, everyone laughing at something said by her future husband, and was thankful that even on this day that was supposed to be so special in her life, nobody here paid any attention to the young woman sitting alone by the window.

Her hand darted out and she took the piece of paper, quickly tucking it against her side. She checked again to see if she had been noticed, still finding herself ignored. She unfolded the paper and trembled at the words written by her love.

Leave with him now! Bring nothing!