The qaid lived in the stateliest building in town. The guards stationed in front of the tall, arched gate regarded the visitors with stony expressions, before one deigned to lead them into the front courtyard, which was covered with shiny marble tiles. A wide stone staircase led halfway to the upper floor before splitting in two and rising to a colonnade with exquisitely chiseled columns.
The qaid appeared to greet his guests. Sibylla noticed that he was dressed as simply as on the day of their arrival. Only this time, he wore a dagger in a striking silver-studded buckle. His Excellency was accompanied by several Arabs, as well as an older man with round wire-rimmed glasses and the mandatory black attire of the Jews. Nuri bin Kalil introduced the Arabs as the governor’s relatives. The Jewish man, called Samuel Toledano, was a tujjar al-sultan, a merchant working for His Holiest Majesty Sultan Moulay Abd al-Rahman, explained bin Kalil.
Benjamin, Qaid Hash-Hash, and the relatives bowed and exchanged greetings. The governor gave Sibylla’s green dress an interested glance, but then acted as he had done at their first meeting and ignored her. The small group moved to one of the reception rooms, and Benjamin thought it a good time to present his gifts.
“Your Excellency, on behalf of the Spencer & Son Shipping Company, I would like to thank you for the warm welcome to your country and ask you to accept this small token of our appreciation.”
He motioned to Hamid, who handed the governor a small package wrapped in silk. Even before bin Kalil had finished interpreting, the qaid passed the unopened package to one of the servants.
Sibylla wondered with some irritation if he was disappointed at the gift’s size. After all, the silk handkerchief was wrapped around a small leather box containing an expensive gold watch.
Sibylla signaled to her husband to distribute the packages of tea. Once all the gifts had been presented, the qaid clapped his hands. A slave entered and beckoned Sibylla and Nadira to follow her.
“Where are we going?”
“Mr. Hopkins’s wife will have the honor of welcoming the ladies while the gentlemen discuss business,” explained bin Kalil.
Sibylla was stunned. She had been prepared to be ignored, but to be sent away . . .
“His Excellency put our gifts aside so quickly,” she said quietly to Nadira as they hurriedly followed the slave. “Do you think that they did not please him?”
“Do not be concerned, my lady,” her servant whispered. “It would have been extremely rude for him to open them in the presence of his guests.”
Sibylla soon realized that, despite his modest attire, the qaid was fond of splendor and luxury. The chambers and corridors were bright and airy, the ceilings adorned with white stucco and the walls tiled with tiny mosaics. The floors were covered with thick silk rugs in vibrant colors, and everywhere there were inviting embroidered cushions and intricately carved coffee tables. Although there were no pictures, Sibylla noticed the variety of weapons on display. Knives, daggers, sabers, and swords in the choicest sheaths made of silver and even gold. Two firearms were displayed in one of the rooms. They were simple shotguns such as Sibylla’s father possessed for partridge and rabbit hunting, yet a servant stood guarding them like valuable treasure.
“Now we are leaving the public area of the house,” Nadira explained. “The women’s quarters are behind this door. No man may enter here, save for His Excellency and a few next of kin. If one of the women falls ill, a hakim is permitted to enter and examine her.”
“How have you come to know all this?” Sibylla asked.
Nadira replied that, before she was emancipated in order to serve Christians, she had been a slave in the household of a court official in Marrakesh.
The guards opened a double door and the slave guided them to a large room. She indicated to the guests that they were to wait and disappeared. Sibylla looked around with curiosity. The room seemed no different from the many others they’d passed through. Large windows opened to an interior courtyard. The shutters were open, allowing the fine muslin drapes to flow in the breeze. Somewhere outside, a lonesome peacock cried, but otherwise it was still. Trays covered with rose petals and fragrant herbs sat on low, exquisitely carved tables. A door opened and a group of women entered. Aside from the female slaves, the only local women Sibylla had seen had been completely veiled and scurrying through the narrow passages of the medina. But here in their living quarters, the women did not conceal their faces. They returned Sibylla’s curious smile and looked at her with expressive kohl-rimmed eyes.
They were led by a diminutive old lady leaning on a cane of carved ivory. Though she appeared fragile, her lined face revealed kindness and intelligence. She wore a loose garment of silver-gray silk ending halfway down her calf. Below that Sibylla was able to make out pants of the same fine material and pearl-embroidered slippers. Her arms, neck, and ears were adorned with striking gold jewelry. The other women were far younger. They too were wearing kaftans with pants in all colors of the rainbow, as well as opulent jewelry. Some had covered their shiny, dark hair with translucent scarves, but most wore it loose down to their hips. A dozen chattering children ran about, the smallest among them carried by their nursemaids.
The elderly woman stepped forward to greet Sibylla. Nadira translated for her. “El Sayyida Rusa Umm Hash-Hash, My Lady Rusa, mother of His Excellency Qaid Hash-Hash, welcomes the honorable lady from the land of the Engliz.”
Sibylla bowed respectfully and gave her name. Next, the qaid’s chief wife greeted her.
“Princess Lalla Jasira is a member of the sultan’s family, may God grant him a long life,” Nadira said.
After the first wife, who was most likely Sibylla’s age, there were three other wives, all very young and pretty. The fourth and youngest was in the late stages of pregnancy and had her hands proudly folded on her round belly. The concubines were also introduced to Sibylla.
“They come from Abyssinia, where the women are renowned for their beauty, and are Christian slaves,” Nadira explained.
With their soft brown eyes and delicate limbs, the concubines reminded Sibylla of gazelles.
The greetings concluded, Rusa gave a short speech, while smiling at Sibylla encouragingly.
“El Sayyida and the other ladies have heard that their esteemed guest from the land of the Engliz has hair that resembles the fur of a desert lioness. They respectfully ask their guest to remove her hat so they may see for themselves.” Nadira gave Sibylla an awkward look.
Sibylla was amazed that news of her hair color had reached even here inside the harem.
It was a harmless enough request and it would be impolite to turn it down, she thought as she untied the bow under her chin. Cries rang out from all corners. Some of the women giggled, others covered their mouths with their hands, the children squealed with excitement.
“They are saying that they have never before seen golden hair,” Nadira translated over the din. “They believe that you must be an angel of heaven.”
Sibylla shook her head resolutely. “Tell them that, in my country, many people have hair like mine.”