Excerpt: Mountains of the Moon

Six months and no sign from Fate.
She strode into the coffeehouse tall and her fine, if unadorned black cloak, rested with diffidence on her noble carriage; the younger man to her left wore a similar cloak and turned with a swagger as he searched the faces room, the scimitar worn across his back had an Ivory grip and a silver inlaid hilt. It was the shorter woman, who moved like a cat beneath her robe that spotted Douban at the corner table. Her eyes were held modestly, but they did not miss much.
Douban blotted the ink dry, closed his journal, and slipped it into the shoulder pack hidden under the pillow next to him. He stood as the three approached.
The noblewoman asked: “Are you Douban of Basra?”
“Yes.”
“May we sit and talk?”
“Please.” Douban bade them to sit.
The she clapped fort eh waiter and ordered coffee fruit and sweetmeats. As the shorter woman was sitting Douban saw a flash of sandaled foot and shapely leg slip from the less fine cloak she wore. When she loosened her veil she did not smile modestly, she smiled knowingly.
“I am Shakya Amira bint Gifar,” she said as she settled onto a pillow. “This is my cousin Zouman ibn Gifar and my servant Taura abd el Sidi.”
“Fate be merciful to you. What brings you to a humble scholar?” Douban said as he gathered the paper and scrolls and books from the table.
“You have traveled among the M’Bunga tribes.”
“Yes, I spent three years retracing the travels of Ahmed of the Sudan. He compiled an excellent herbalism.”
“That is what I am here to see you about. I’ve done well as an apothecary and I seek to learn more about some of the miraculous plants Ahmed has found in the western rift valley.”
“I’m afraid all the samples have been sent north. I remain here to collect stories from the guides and porters returning from the interior. You’ll have to go to Basra to get samples.”
“I’m mounting an expedition in to the interior as soon as the rains step. I’d like to hire you as a guide.”
Douban slipped his coffee and thought. “I’m no guide.”
“You speak the language?”
“Some. But that is only the beginning of trade among the M’Bunga. My caravan travels the slave routes, dangerous at any time. The other tribes attack slave caravans at will, there is constant tribal warfare besides, If you don’t pay correct tribute to a chieftain her could have you killed as a whim. And I never trusted the slavers fully.”
“That is why I want you to come.”
“I know several good guides who will take you into the interior.”
“I’ve hired two guides.”
“Then you don’t need me.”
“I would feel better if a Follower were along. As you said the natives are no to be trusted.”
“Let me think about it.”
Her voice became soft. “I too have read Ahmad’s Travels. I will pay dearly if we can collect seeds and cutting for my private collection. I’m a renowned apothecary.”
Her voice took a slightly unreal ring. Douban saw her hand finger the black stone at her throat. He cleared his mind and thought of he shapely leg Taura had shown as she sat down, and the knowing why she moved beneath her robes.
“I was hoping to return north when the monsoon winds turn. I have more than enough notes and would like to finish my work in a more academic setting.”
“This would be only two seasons more and you would have notes fro another book and the money to finish all three.”
He thought of Taura’s leg and formed the rest of her body in his mind; A lithe dancer’s body and eyes that didn’t miss anything.
He said: “I would be happy to introduce you to my current employer – you could strike a bargain.”
“I’m looking foe a particular herb mentioned.”
“It may take longer than two seasons”
“I have more than enough money to cover an extended journey”
They spent the rest of the afternoon meal in polite small talk.
Douban returned to his rooms that evening. He traced a circle in the middle of the floor and drew the glyphs barely looking in the book. He placed a brazier in the circle and mixed the charcoal with incense. Pale blue smoke rose but did not drift, it swirled and form the familiar face, then body of a blue skinned black haired jinn,
“Young Douban.”
“Master Librarian. I’ve summoned you because Fate has sent a sign. Her name is Shakya Amira bint Gifar, the only thing I know about he is she can use the Haggler’s Pearl.”
He recounted the afternoon meeting then handed the black haired jinn the bundle of books and papers. The impassive feature of the librarian almost broke in to a smile.
“Excellent. The Master so enjoys your work.” The jinn said.
“And you reap the benefit.”
“We both serve the same master.” The work of six month faded into smoke. “On a related matter, the latitude and landmarks from that slaver you met last month are promising. If nothing else he’s a first rate navigator. Also our master also sends an alchemy cabinet that will fit in the haversack. He wants you to continue your studies.”
“A lesson on how to change these meager copper coins to gold coins?”
“Sadly you will have to make do with your endless supply of copper coins. He hopes a modest lifestyle will curb your temper and develop your more mundane skills.”
Blue smoke drifted and formed the blue skin of the jinn who held out a slip paper between two fingers with long nails. “I could not find a ward for snakes, there is a talisman for empathy with serpents.”
“Fate be gentle to you.” Douban took he slip of paper and placed the cover over the brazier. As quickly as the jinn had formed he vanished. Only the alchemy cabinet remained.
Douban noted the charm’s design in his journal then sat at the low table in his Spartan room and worked a copper coin smooth on a square of iron with a small hammer. He etched the glyphs light on the face of the coin and began working the pattern deeper with a small chisel.
“You are a tinsmith as well?” Shakya Amira’s slave girl was squatting on the sill of his window. She wore dark pantaloons and a dark long sleeve jacket; both tied close on her limbs.
“A man of many talents.” Her husky voice suited the darkened room.
“A few humble hobbies.” He said closing his journal and lighting another candle.
She stretched her body as a bow, hands and bare feet on the sill; she lifted her legs in a slow tumble and landed on the floor of his room without a sound. She smiled at him in the candlelight and untied the laces of her loose clothing. In one graceful move she stepped from her falling clothes.
“Just like that?”
“Yes.” She unwound the veil. “I saw desire in your eyes. My mistress fail to convince you with her power so she sent me, and my gifts are much harder to resist.”
“Your mistress ins a gifted mesmerist, but mesmerism does not equally affect all people.”
At the word mesmerism Taura stopped and shot him an unguarded glance. “You know of arcane tricks?”
“Some.”
She stood before him in only a loincloth and a stout dagger hung from a belt around her waist. She sat next to him at the low table and studied to copper disk.
“What are you making?” She moved in close to him.
The scent of her hair and skin was more hypnotic than Shakya Amira’s mesmerism.
“A charm to ward off serpents, M’Bunga country is thick with serpents.”
“Then you are going.”
“Yes. I came here to make my fortune.”