The Sign of the Scorpion Page 5

  Tariq sighed. “Poor Jumana. What a welcome. Let’s go over to the stables now. I want to catch Hatem before he leaves.”

  As they entered the inner courtyard, Layla’s curiosity got the better of her. “Tariq, is it true what Faisal said? Did your uncle and Jumana have an argument a few days before he died?”

  “I’m not sure. Remember, I was ill at the time. Hala was the one who told me about it. She’d heard the adults talking about it. According to the servants, Uncle Rashid and Jum-Jum met in the courtyard and began talking. From the expressions on their faces and their hand gestures, it looked like they were having an argument. They both looked upset afterwards and Jum-Jum left the next day when she was supposed to have stayed out the week. She didn’t even come to say goodbye to me. That’s unlike her. I guess we’ll never know what happened unless she breaks her silence.”

  At the edge of the courtyard, they followed the red brick pathway on the right. They walked for several minutes until they came to the low line of buildings which housed the stables and an office. All was quiet, as work had finished for the day. They found Hatem in the office.

  The head groom was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his late twenties, with close-cropped hair and a neat beard. A long, thin scar slashed across the right side of his face from cheekbone to jaw, giving him a sinister appearance. He was dressed in a uniform of baggy black pants and black short-sleeved shirt with brass buttons. After Tariq performed the introductions and explained the purpose of their visit, Hatem studied them, his eyes measuring their sizes for the horses.

  “We have several horses which will be suitable,” he said. “They’ll be ready for you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Hatem,” said Tariq. “Have a good night. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  After they were out of earshot, Zahra said, “What a scary looking man. How did he get that scar on his face?”

  “I don’t think he’s ever told anyone,” said Tariq. “He’s wonderful with the horses and that’s what matters.”

  When they came to the fork again, Layla glanced up at the lookout tower. “Tariq, can we take a quick look at the tower? It looks very interesting.”

  Tariq seemed oddly hesitant as he stared up at the hulking structure. Finally, he said, “Yes, of course. Let’s go.”

  They followed him down the tree-lined path which curved deeply to the right before ending in a clearing. The solitary tower loomed in the late afternoon light, standing about seven stories tall. It seemed solid and sturdy but had a gothic, forsaken air about it. Built of the same black basalt rocks as the castle, there were bits of green moss clinging between the cracks and thick, black vines twining their way to the top. To Layla, the vines seemed like skeletal arms slowly suffocating the tower. She gave a sudden shiver. The vibe she was getting here was not good.

  “Goodness, that tower sure looks creepy.” Adam craned his neck to get a better view.

  “It doesn’t have a pleasant history,” said Tariq. “Legend has it that a guard was found poisoned there, another broke his neck falling down the stairs, and a female servant was found strangled. And last December, my previous tutor jumped to her death from the window.”

  The teenagers stared in shock at Tariq.

  “Oh my God, that’s awful,” said Layla.

  “Horrible.” Zahra shuddered.

  Adam’s eyes moved from window to ground. “That’s a really long way to fall.”

  “Yes, she must have died instantly,” said Zaid.

  “Why did she do it?” asked Layla.

  “I’ll tell you when we get up there. It’s not a pleasant story.”

  The base of the tower was a large, circular space which held a long, spiral stairway made of stone. After hearing of the guard falling to his death, the teenagers took extra care to hold on to the handrails as they climbed. The twisting, hollow cavity of the stairway would have been dark if not for bits of daylight coming through slits in the wall shaft. At last, they reached the top of the stairs.

  They were standing on a narrow, rectangular landing with a battered wooden door facing them. Tariq opened the door and they entered a spacious, round chamber with wooden floors and a vaulted ceiling. The walls were plastered with glazed stone tiles and rectangular peepholes were carved out at standing height. To the right were two chairs encircling a small table and to the left, an ancient brick fireplace with a wooden rocking chair next to it. Facing them across the floor was a single window.

  Tariq gestured to the window. “As you can see, Grandfather had the window boarded up. He didn’t want any tragedies like that ever happening again.”

  They stared at the window from where the horrendous act had taken place. It was tall, wide and arch-shaped at the top. Thick bars of wood had been nailed across the bottom, leaving just a strip of glass free above. The light coming through was sparse, filling the room with murky shadows.

  “Take a look through the peepholes before it gets too dark,” said Tariq. “The view is spectacular.”

  The view was indeed spectacular as they peered out. From the great height of the tower, the countryside yielded all its secrets. They saw the dark outline of the Dukhan Hills, the many limestone hills and the vast emptiness of the terrain around them. In the old days, no enemy approaching the castle would have remained undetected by the guards keeping watch.

  A sweet odor hung in the air, tickling their noses.

  Zaid sniffed. “It smells like incense. Someone must have lit an incense stick.”

  “That’s strange,” said Tariq. “I didn’t think anyone would want to come up here after what happened.”

  “Tell us about it,” said Adam.

  “Let’s sit,” said Tariq. “We’ll get tired standing up.”

  The girls sat on the chairs while Zaid took the rocking chair. Adam and Tariq sat on the floor, their backs against the wall.

  Tariq said, “My tutor’s name was Lamis. She was hired last July by Grandfather. Like Mrs. Haddad, she was from England but much younger. She had settled in and we were doing quite well. Then Uncle Rashid and Jum-Jum announced their engagement at the end of December. That’s when the nightmare began.”

  “What happened?” said Layla.

  “Grandfather held an engagement dinner for them. As an engagement gift, Uncle Rashid gave Jum-Jum an antique pearl bracelet that had belonged to his mother. By lunch the next day, she discovered it was missing from her room. Someone had stolen it. Uncle Rashid was very upset. He wanted to bring in the police but Jum-Jum told him to wait. She said whoever stole the bracelet might return it once they realized they would get into trouble. The next day passed without the bracelet being returned. The morning after that, Lamis’s body was found at the foot of the tower. On this very table,” Tariq pointed, “she left a letter saying she had stolen the bracelet and was ending her life because Uncle Rashid had broken his promise to marry her.”

  “Did he really?” said Layla.

  “Of course not.” Tariq’s voice was indignant. “He never had eyes for anyone else but Jum-Jum. He was a very eligible bachelor, but he waited until she finished her studies abroad before proposing to her. The suicide and letter were great shocks to everyone. Especially for Uncle Rashid and Jum-Jum. The police, knowing of no other reason why Lamis would kill herself, believed what she claimed in the letter even though Uncle Rashid denied it as false. Tongues started to wag and the newspapers in Khaldun had a field day with it, calling Uncle Rashid all sorts of nasty names. That’s why Grandfather was determined to keep Uncle Rashid’s death out of the news. They would have dug up the whole story of Lamis’s suicide again.”

  “Was the bracelet ever found?” asked Zahra.

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “Your tutor’s family must have been shocked,” said Zaid.

  “It took a while to find them in England since she gave no contact information. Grandfather took care of
the burial arrangements and when her family was finally located, he explained what had happened and offered them financial compensation since she died in our employment. At the end of January, he hired Mrs. Haddad to replace her. Things had settled back to almost normal when something weird happened in March.”

  “What do you mean by weird?” said Adam.

  “A maid went into hysterics one night. She said she heard a bloodcurdling scream and saw a woman dressed all in white standing by the orchard.”

  Chapter Six:

  Voices in the Dark

  “The Woman in White,” Layla exclaimed. “That’s who I must have seen the night we came. I remember thinking that if ghosts were real, she’d definitely be one. And it must have been her screaming in the ghaf grove. Oh my goodness, this is so creepy.”

  “I thought it must have been her when you said you’d heard an animal screaming,” said Tariq. “Only the servants have seen her and heard her so far. Sometimes they see her by the orchard or the arcades leading to the grove. No one’s seen her inside the castle. I’m surprised you did.”

  “Maybe she wanted to give us a special welcome,” said Adam.

  “She can’t be a real ghost, of course,” said Zaid. “So who could she be?”

  “We don’t know,” said Tariq. “No one’s been able to catch her. After she was first seen, the servants secretly brought in an old woman from Khaldun who sells amulets. The old woman told them Lamis had become a ghul and is haunting the castle. After Uncle Rashid died, the old woman must have found out about it from one of the servants, even though they denied it. She came a few days later with more amulets. She told the servants that Lamis’s ghul had sent Uncle Rashid to his death in the desert and ate his corpse in revenge. She said the ghul would not rest until all the men in the castle had gone to their doom, and Grandfather would be next. She’s been banned from coming here again.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know people here believe in such things as ghouls,” said Layla. “I thought only people in the west did.”

  “Dad told us that the people in the west actually got their belief in ghouls from old Arabian folklores,” said Zaid. “It happened after the stories of The Thousand and One Nights were translated into The Arabian Nights. The stories are full of jinns. A ghul was a jinn that walked the desert in the form of a beautiful woman. She would lure lustful men to their doom and eat their flesh. In the west, the ghul eventually became known as a ghoul, an evil spirit who robs graves and feeds on dead bodies.”

  Layla grimaced. “People have colorful imaginations.”

  “We know the jinn are shape shifters and can take different forms,” said Zaid, “but I doubt the Woman in White is a real ghul.”

  “Try telling the servants that,” said Tariq. “Some of them are very superstitious.”

  “Maybe that’s what Nura was warning me about,” said Layla.

  Seeing Tariq’s inquiring expression, she told him about the maid’s warning.

  “She had no business trying to scare you,” said Tariq. “Grandfather will be angry if he hears about it.”

  “It’s alright,” said Layla. “She hasn’t said anything to me again. But this Woman in White masquerade is weird. Why would anyone pretend to be a ghoul?”

  “We haven’t the faintest idea,” said Tariq. “Let me know if you hear her again.”

  “I doubt she’ll bother us again,” said Adam.

  After the drama of Jumana’s arrival, dinner turned out to be surprisingly pleasant.

  Along with the family, Kareem, Mrs. Haddad, and the guests, it was quite a large gathering. Fourteen chairs were now occupied. Layla, wearing a brown floral dress with a solid brown scarf, was enjoying the meal. There was tangy baked chicken with flavored rice, marinated lamb kebabs and chicken kofta with bell peppers and onions. Conversation flowed as everyone ate.

  Ghazala raised a glass of water to her lips, her emerald ring flashing in the light of the chandelier. She was wearing a midnight blue abaya. The style in which she tied her light-blue scarf made her bird-like features look softer. “How was your visit with Sulaiman, Jumana?”

  “It was very emotional, Ghazzy,” said Jumana. She was dressed in a peach jilbab with matching scarf. The ensemble brought out the creamy tone of her skin and the amber glow of her eyes. “He wept like a heartbroken child when he saw me. It’s sad to see him like that. When I told him I would be spending a week, he insisted I stay until Tariq leaves. I couldn’t refuse him. I don’t have anything else of importance to do until school re-opens.”

  “You plan to continue teaching?” asked Suha. Hala’s stepmother wore a deep-purple gown with batwing sleeves. Her light-purple scarf was pinned with the diamond pin she had worn the previous evening. Eyeshadow the same color as her gown accentuated her long lashes.

  A fleeting look of sorrow flashed across Jumana’s face. “Yes, I am. I thought I would be starting a new chapter in my life, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

  “I’m sure your students will be happy to have you back,” said Tariq.

  The youth was dressed in a tan robe with embroidered cuffs. His curly hair was slicked back in an attractive style, emphasizing his chiseled features. He sat facing Layla, and soon engaged her and Adam in conversation. He was curious about their life in America and peppered them with many questions. Some of them were so funny that Layla laughed several times, the dimples in her cheeks flashing prettily.

  She saw Hala watching her. There was a sullen twist to the other girl’s lips. She wore a short-sleeved ivory dress, her frizzy hair in a coiffure with a matching headband. Her kohl-darkened eyes and pink lip gloss gave her a grown-up look.

  As Ghazala’s husband, Bilal, tore into a piece of chicken, Layla noticed that his upper canines were pointed, looking almost like fangs. He looks like an owl and has the owl’s habit of coming out at night. But he could just as well be a vampire with those pointed teeth.

  They were having dessert when the PA said, “By the way, I heard in Khaldun this morning that the Hooded Horseman was back.”

  “Really?” said Ghazala. “I thought he disappeared for good two years ago.”

  “He’s been seen quite recently from what I hear,” said Kareem.

  “He was considered quite a hero for helping people in trouble, wasn’t he?” asked Jumana.

  “A lot of those stories were exaggerated,” said Suha. “People love to embellish things.”

  Miftah nodded at his wife’s remark. “Yes, that’s true. Before he disappeared, there were stories about him killing someone.”

  “So, he wasn’t quite the knight in shining armor on his trusty steed,” said Faisal. “How disappointing.”

  “This Hooded Horseman seems to be quite a person of mystery,” said Mrs. Haddad. “It could very well be the Hooded Horsewoman. After all, who would know what lies beneath the hood?”

  Layla looked in surprise at the tutor. Mrs. Haddad’s manner had been quite aloof since dinner began. It was as if she sat on a lofty height, looking down with disdain upon the foibles of her fellow mortals. Her hair was up in its usual chignon and she was dressed in a green silk dress. It made her skin look sallow and her face even more gaunt.

  “It cannot be a woman,” said Bilal. He blinked bashfully behind his glasses as all eyes turned to him. “I saw him once on the outskirts of Khaldun. He seemed big and tall.”

  “Why Bilal,” said Faisal, his hazel eyes filled with mischief, “was he coming to rescue you from the clutches of Ghazzy?”

  Hala giggled and everyone else smiled in amusement.

  Ghazala’s pointed nose rose in the air. “Don’t be childish, Faisal. You’re an adult. Act like one.”

  “Your words have wounded me, Ghazzy.” Faisal clutched at his chest. “Oh, how cruel you are.”

  Ghazala narrowed her eyes and held up her fork. “I’ll give you another wound if you don’t stop this nonsense.
”

  Faisal grinned and Layla thought how charming he could be when he made the effort.

  After the meal ended and everyone stood up to leave, Layla felt one of the pins in her scarf come loose.

  “Go ahead,” she said to the others. “I’ll just run across to the bathroom and fix my scarf.”

  When she came out, she was surprised to see Hala standing outside. Layla smiled at her and gestured to the bathroom. “It’s all yours.”

  There was no answering smile on Hala’s face. Instead, she grabbed Layla’s arm and hissed, “You think you’re smart, don’t you?”

  “What do you mean?” Layla looked at her in surprise.

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Hala’s voice was scornful. “You were flirting with Tariq during dinner. Trying to dazzle him with your loose American ways. You heard he’s going to be a billionaire when Uncle Sulaiman dies, didn’t you? Well, don’t get any ideas because he was being friendly. He’ll never marry a foreigner.”

  Layla looked at Hala with incredulous eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You can stop the innocent act,” said Hala. “Let me make it clear. Tariq’s going to marry me in a few years, so keep your big eyes away from him.”

  As Hala flounced away, Layla stared after her in shock. She had no idea the girl had romantic feelings for Tariq. And she was aghast at what Hala had accused her of. Flirting? That conjured up images of girls and boys making eyes at each other and telling each other silly things. She had done neither of those things. How dare Hala accuse her of that?

  When she returned upstairs, she told Zahra what had happened.

  Zahra gaped at her friend. “She said what?”

  “Exactly. Can you believe it?”

  “Oh my, she’s jealous of you.”

  “But why?”

  Zahra grinned, her dark eyes dancing. She was wearing a salmon-colored ensemble this evening that brought out the golden-honey tone of her skin. “She’s obviously set her sights on marrying Tariq and is afraid you’ll steal him away. If my future husband paid me no attention during dinner and looked like he enjoyed talking to you, I’d be jealous too.”