Nabila covered her face in the black niqab she wore over her head and shoulders. No one could see her go to Mohammed. She needed to speak with him urgently. As it stood, he was the only one that could help her get the master.
Droplets of rain splashed on her. A gust of chilly wind tugged at the help of her orange dress. Nabila only increased her steps, until she reached the entrance of the gambling house.
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“Mohammed’s Den is no place for a woman!” A drunken man staggered towards her with a mug full of beer. Angrily, Niqab pushed him to the ground and stepped into the house.
Men chattered and laughed nosily. They had whores to warm their sides in this cold weather, while some men stared gloomily at the candelabra that hung from the ceiling.
Mohammed had been in a corner; counting the coins he had made for the day when he noticed the feminine movement in his house. The woman was tall. He had sold information to many beautiful women, especially those who wanted to know whom their husband was cheating with. He hoped one of such women wasn’t coming for information. He was tired, and needed rest.
Once she reached the corner of the gambling house, Nabila pulled off her niqab and sat on a chair next to him.
“I need your help.” Her voice was heavy with desperation and thick in fear.
“Nabila…I am very tired…” He started, but trailed off as she ran her hands seductively over her supple breasts.
Of all the women he had ravaged, Nabila was the best. She was experienced in the art of pleasuring. She had done wild things to him in the past, and he would like to taste of her lovemaking again.
“Tell me what you need,” Mohammed ran his eyes over her body lustfully.
“My master, Mallam Abdul has taken a new wife. Her name is Amina and from what I could gather, she isn’t from here. She could be Shuwa or Fulani. I want to know everything about this woman.”
He watched her eyes carefully; he always read the motives of people before selling them information. Nabila had no business with her master’s personal life, except she was in love with him. He suddenly realized that Nabila was in love.
“You have fallen in love with a man that doesn’t love you the same.” Mohammed whispered.
Nabila’s heart jolted when she heard this.
“I came to get information and not advice.” She snapped at him.
“I know of the woman you speak of. I have an old friend in the Great Plain who supplies me with information. An old but witty lady; she showed me the picture of Amina Tukur once.
I understand your master’s fascination with her.”
Nabila was getting impatient, “I didn’t come here to learn history. I need something to pin her down. I want her to return to the shithole she came out from.”
“I can only tell you what you need if you agree to let me defile you in bed.” His eyes twinkled devilishly. He had a fetish for a forbidden sexual practice. If Nabila would grant him this request, he would tell her anything.
Nabila knew that Mohammed was a man of pervasive passions. What he was asking her to do could lead them both to the gallows. Sodomy was a forbidden practice. And those that were caught in the act would pay gravely.
“And if I don’t?” A strand of sweat ran down her face.
Mohammed shrugged, “no information for you then.”
“I will do it. I will do anything you ask of me.”
“Good, I will tell you all that you need to know when we are finished.”
He threw his hands into the air and beckoned to his servants. They would take over the money, while he would take over Nabila. It was time to unleash his long locked fantasy.
YOU ARE READING: AMINA’S PRIDE EP9
Abdul had waited until midnight before he left his chambers to pay his friend a visit. Hazim had left the ranch to meet with Mohammed, Abdul needed to know what secret he had discovered. He needed to tell Hazim about the recent development in Kanem Dazau and Idris’ part in it. Idris was their common enemy and they had to come together to fight him.
The help of his black garment melted into the darkness of the night as he arose from his bed. He snatched a lighted torch from the wall and strode outside his room. Everywhere was quiet. Everything was calm. He paused briefly at Amina’s door and listened. A smile touched the corner of his lips as he heard her murmur in her sleep. She was speaking Fulani, and he found it difficult to understand some words.
Satisfied that she was fine, Abdul continued towards the exit door. The cowboys had a separate building from his’ and Hazim ruled over them. Abdul had to be certain that Amina wasn’t a spy for Idris. Once he was sure of her loyalty, he was willing to give his heart to her. He was willing to start over. He had honored Fatma with his tears, and she would be happy for his decision to find love again.
The air smelt of cow dung. The gibbous moon floated gently through the clouds. The sky was like a heavy blanket with a few stars; it was a dark night in the land. As he moved across the field, droplets of dew kissed his ankle. He moved swiftly and agilely like a hyena going on a hunt. It wasn’t long before he reached Hazim’s window.
“Hazim!” He tapped on the window.
“Hazim,” the second call was harsher and louder. It wasn’t long before Hazim staggered out of his room to heed the call of his friend. The only person that would wake him up at such an hour was Abdul; and he knew whatever he had to say was really important.
Hazim wiped his eyes with the back of his palms and moved towards the shadow and the flame.
“You trouble my sweet sleep,” Hazim yawned. He had been dreaming of a wedding ceremony with Keerna. By God, he loved that woman.
“I am sorry Hazim, but we have a lot to discuss.” Abdul covered the space between them.
“Let’s do it in my room.” Hazim led the way and both men stepped into the room.
“You look troubled my friend.” Hazim noticed the fear in Abdul’s eyes, something was wrong somewhere.
“Prince Fadin was here today. Some bandits have been attacking some ranches in our city. These men are cow and horse thieves.” Abdul waited for Hazim’s reaction.
The news didn’t come as a surprise to Hazim. The bandits had troubled Kanem Dazau for many months. Abdul’s ranch was one of the few ranches that weren’t attacked.
“You knew about this? Why didn’t you tell me?” Abdul noticed the relaxed expression in Hazim’s eyes.
Hazim shrugged, “you were grieving Abdul. That is no time to share bad news.”
Abdul snorted, “News that concern the wellness of the ranch is bad news? What if those bandits came here for our cattle? You should always tell me the truth.”
Hazim understood that his friend wasn’t happy he had kept the news about the bandits away, but Abdul’s refusal to get over Fatma had left him with no choice.
To be continued…