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20 |Al Lixbuna, Islamic Iberia Caliphate of Córdoba 989 AD
Rafiq found himself inexorably drawn toward the cliff where his sister had committed the ultimate sin only hours before. He stared out at the ocean, a ship sailing south in the distance, then froze. He twisted around, staring back at the port where he had just been, another Viking ship departing the inlet’s natural shelter from the fury that could be the ocean.
Shelter north of where he now stood.
If they were heading home with a wounded man, why would they have gone south?
He stared back at the harbor, his eyes narrowing as he searched for some explanation as to why the ship would have gone south before going north.
Finding none.
It made no sense. Why had that ship been near this particular cliff? And why had it been sailing away from it, as opposed to past it?
Could she have jumped to the boat?
He frowned, chastising himself.
Fool! She’d die from the fall.
There was no way she could have survived the fall into the waters below. Even the strongest of men couldn’t have. And besides, the ship was too far from the shore to have had time to collect her, then sail away from the base of the cliff.
It simply wasn’t possible.
He had to resign himself to the fact his sister had jumped to her death, and it had to simply be coincidence that the ship was there for some reason he just wasn’t aware of.
“You heard it too?”
“Yes, it was strange, and lasted for quite some time.”
“So did her scream.”
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t you notice her scream seemed to last longer than you’d expect?”
Rafiq spun toward the voices, startling the two men walking past him. “Do you speak of the girl who fell from the cliff earlier?”
The first man nodded, eying his robes, the men clearly Christian. “Yes, but she didn’t fall. She jumped.”
His much shorter companion agreed. “It’s true. I saw it with my own eyes.”
“I wonder what that Viking said to her.”
“I’ll tell you what he said. He—”
Rafiq held up a hand, cutting him off. “You spoke of hearing something. What was it?”
The taller one shrugged. “I’m not really sure. It lasted for a good minute or two, and it sounded like something rubbing.”
Rafiq’s eyes narrowed. “Rubbing?”
The man’s head bobbed. “Yes. Like one thing rubbing on another.”
“An anchor!”
He stared at his shorter companion. “Huh?”
“An anchor! Like when you drop an anchor and the rope is pulled through that ring thing. I don’t know what it’s called. The sound the rope makes on the ring. It sounded like that, but as if the rope were long enough to reach the bottom of the ocean, let alone the port.”
Rafiq stared at him for a moment, processing this new information when his heart nearly stopped and he battled to keep his jaw from dropping. “Come with me, if you would.” He marched toward the edge of the cliff before the men could have a chance to refuse. When he reached the site of his sister’s tragic death, he knelt, beckoning the men to do the same. They reluctantly joined him on the ground as he lay flat, crawling toward the edge. He looked back at them, waving his hand. “Come closer. It’s right here.”
They exchanged nervous glances but complied. Rafiq pointed at the post with the hook on it that he had noticed earlier.
“What do you make of that?”
The taller one shrugged. “What of it? They’re used to raise and lower goods.”
Rafiq stared at the unforgiving sea. “Here?”
The other edged forward, staring below. “Well, perhaps not here.”
His companion agreed. “No, not here, but you’ll find them all along the coast. Normally there’s flat land below like a beach.” He stared at the ring once again, then the raging waters. “Not sure why there’d be one here.” He shrugged. “Maybe there was a beach down there once.”
His friend shook his head. “Not in my lifetime.”
“Mine either, but maybe long ago.”
Rafiq considered their explanation, and dismissed it, pointing at the shiny inner edge of the ring. “Then why does it look like it has been used recently?”
Both men paused then leaned back over the edge to reexamine the discovery. “Huh, will you look at that!”
The taller one nodded vigorously. “Definitely been used recently. You don’t get a polish like that without some activity.”
Rafiq stared at them. “Like from a rope, a long rope, like what you heard earlier when my sister jumped?”
The short one’s eyes shot wide. “She was your sister? Oh no! You have my condolences!”
Rafiq bowed his head slightly, but pressed on. “You heard this noise after she jumped?”
“Yes,” they answered in unison.
Rafiq thought for a moment. “And during?”
The men stared at him, the tall one replying. “What do you mean?”
“When did you start hearing the sound? While she was screaming, or after?”
Another shrug from the tall one. “I can’t honestly say I heard anything but the scream.” He frowned. “Until I heard the rope, of course.”
Rafiq remembered something else they had said. “You said her scream lasted longer than you expected?”
Both nodded, the short one beating his friend to the punch. “Yes, much longer. Almost as if she were falling twice as long as you might expect.”
“And then you heard the rope?”
“Yes,” they both agreed.
Rafiq stared out at the sea below, where the Viking ship had been. Could she have been tied to a rope? It made no sense. If she was planning to run away with this Viking, why not just do so? Why the elaborate deception? Why fake a suicide?
His jaw dropped and his eyes widened.
Because you don’t pursue someone you think is dead!
“What are you thinking?”
He flinched, forgetting he had company. “Nothing. I, umm, must go.” He scrambled to his feet, stepping back from the cliff. “Thank you for your time.” He hurried back home, picturing how the deception might have been accomplished. If his sister had been tied to a rope and jumped, there was no way the ship could have come close enough to the shore to collect her, then make it out to sea as far as they had been when he spotted them.
And jumping from that height, tied to a rope, would have snapped her in half. And where was the rope? Wouldn’t it still be tied to the ring?
That wasn’t what had happened, he was sure of it.
She had to reach the boat. That’s the only option.
He smiled, his eyes flaring as he realized what had happened. A long rope would have been threaded through the ring from the top, both ends allowed to fall to the waters below. A smaller boat would have collected both ends then carried them out to sea, looping them through another ring on the ship he had seen, then tying them together, creating one continuous rope. His sister, using some sort of harness, would have slid down the rope to the boat, then they would have cut it, tying off one end, then dragging the rope along with them until it was clear of the ring.
Leaving no evidence behind.
Except a polished ring that should never have been there, and perhaps was to have been removed later by their accomplices.
It all made perfect sense. Because she had been moving diagonally toward the boat instead of straight down to the waters below, her scream would have lasted longer. Then the sound the men had heard afterward was the rope pulling through, hiding their deception.
It was brilliant.
And as far as anyone was concerned, his sister was dead by her own actions, his family would be left to mourn, and she could run off with the man she obviously loved.
Rage flared in his stomach at the selfishness of it all. His sister was promised to another man, a wealthy, powerful man about to change all their lives, but only if she fulfilled her duty to her family. This selfish act would put an end to the deal his father had worked out with Sheik Al-Musawi, and not only would they be denied their increased stature, they could very well lose their business should he take out his annoyance on them.
Fatima, you foolish little girl, do you not realize what you have done?
A hatred he didn’t know possible grew in his heart, and he didn’t know what to do with it. He wanted to tell his parents the truth, yet it would devastate them. He wanted to track down his sister and drag her back by the hair to fulfill her duty.
And another part wanted to simply slit her throat so he could restore the honor to his family that she was about to cost them.
He had no idea what he should do, and decided that prayer and his father might provide the answers. Surely, by now, Al-Musawi would have indicated his intentions toward his family, and perhaps his worrying was for naught.
Though he doubted it to his core.