The Desert Falcon

Chapter 10, The Mercy of A Woman

Editor's Note: This chapter might be boring. I apologize in advance, but it was needed to progress the story. I will consider editing it later.

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The calm night air was a welcome comfort to the gilded prison I had been residing in for the past couple of days. It was insulting to think that the harem was nothing more than a decorated paradise of a prison meant to keep the women ignorant of the fact that they served as sexual slaves to the sultan because Allah, have mercy on us all, if a woman should be more than capable of serving at the behest of the incompetent and ineffectual, simple-minded men that ruled this world. I did not know what was more disparagingly pathetic, whether the men, who practiced such an institution, was too shaken by the threat of a woman posed to them, enough to oppress them so or that the women themselves, who relished in the status it brought them, were willing to fight among themselves to remain the most imprisoned amongst them all.

It was actually rather cruel and clever all at the same time.  If the women were kept too busy fighting among themselves to please one singular man, they would not have the inkling to consider ruling the household themselves. Becoming one of the sultan's concubines, however, elevated the playing field of political power of the women and what little we had of it to begin with.  Indeed, history has proven it to be so with the countless stories of women elevating their second class subjugation to their advantage in the harem.  It has been recorded that some ruled from the captivity of the harem by influencing the very ruler of whom they served. When one had the potential of becoming the mother of a future sultan, spending an inordinate amount of time in his bedchambers, it was not so much a leap to go from bed talk to talk of politics.  After all, many of men have gone to war over women. It was conceivable that the smartest among them might utilize their position to rule an empire.

It was dishearteningly crippling to harbor the thought that I had no greater purpose than to please the arrogant, ruthless sultan. I had no designs of conniving my way to become someone powerful enough to rule from within.  I felt a surge of exultant joy that I was able to escape, despite the transient nature of the freedom. I would have to go back soon so as not to impart suspicion, until I could formulate a more concrete plan of escape.

I took cover in the darkness, as I felt the vibration of the horse's hooves pounding against the ground, reverberating against my thighs. A sense of urgency, coupled with caution, impaled me, my heart racing in fear that they would soon notice my disappearance.  A woman escaping the harem was unheard of.  Once we enetered, we were not permitted to leave unless decreed by the sultan.

I was not nearly as paralyzed by the thought of being captured as I thought to be.  The impossibility of a woman escaping the confines of the harem also played to my advantage for they would never think to check upon my whereabouts.  They would assume I was in my apartments or if they did deign to check up on me, they would assume I was otherwise occupied with the Sultan, not outside the harem's walls, let alone the palace's.

We sped out of the palace and into the surrounding town. The streets remained empty, only lit by the occasional torch fire stationed outside the residences. Several minutes passed by, until I was out in the desert, past the edge of the city.

First things first, I needed to see my father and my brother. I needed to make sure they were all right. If escape was to be a possibility, I needed to warn them, to ensure that the sultan would not go after them in an attempt to curtail me. I was not above believing that the sultan would stoop so low as to use my family against me, as he had done with Kareem.

Kareem...I feared for his safety. I would find out from father how he fared, but for now, I knew the best course of action was to stay away from him to avoid incurring the sultan's wrath. The sultan presumed too much with our relationship and it angered him so. I was not fooled into thinking he was beside himself with jealousy as a man is with a woman he was infatuated with, for the markedly blatant expression of possession he unknowingly revealed, suggested he had some right to me that allowed no man to presume any romantic claim to me, despite his lack of a romantic infatuation with me. It was ludicrous, but that was as far of a rationale I was willing to entertain. Anything else made little sense to me.