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With the sandstorm raging on, the Bedoan tribes had continued to shelter in the Port of the West. Having walked so long to the back of the tribe, herding the other tribe members forward instead of letting them lag behind, Hasani was both exhausted and he felt exceedingly disgusting. Walking through the desert was his way of life, but it had been nearly a week since they had bathed and the man had instructed the men to construct the tent in order to bathe. So far, the men of the tribe had been settled into a few of the tents that had been put together.
After a meal of couscous and dried fish, he had pressed a kiss to Tanishe's head and left to head toward one of the bathing tents. Earlier in the day, his wife had come across a man with a boat, and after a rather hilarious mix up, Hasani had actually decided that he liked the man. While generally not trusting of strangers, Hasani tended to keep an open mind.
Neena had played a big part in that confidence and curiosity about strangers. However, he knew a few of the other tribes might not agree on such a man remaining among the tribes, so Hasani had instructed Saro to remain within the Zaire encampment despite the area being a port. Hasani was curious and wanted to know more about the man and that could not be done if the foreigner found himself dead by the hands of another tribe.
He was on the hunt for the man as well as the tent that they could both bathe in. Though, Hasani knew bathing to be much different to those not of the tribe. With his araa straped to his side he was intent on inviting Saro to bathe with him and some of the other men of the tribe. It was such a dangerous curiosity that his second wife had instilled in him and it was one that he was keen not to lose.
Weaving along the paths and past tents, Hasani let his gaze dart this way and that before he finally caught sight of the man he was looking for. "Ah! Saro!" Hasani called jovially, approaching the foreigner. "Bath, yes?"
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With the sandstorm raging on, the Bedoan tribes had continued to shelter in the Port of the West. Having walked so long to the back of the tribe, herding the other tribe members forward instead of letting them lag behind, Hasani was both exhausted and he felt exceedingly disgusting. Walking through the desert was his way of life, but it had been nearly a week since they had bathed and the man had instructed the men to construct the tent in order to bathe. So far, the men of the tribe had been settled into a few of the tents that had been put together.
After a meal of couscous and dried fish, he had pressed a kiss to Tanishe's head and left to head toward one of the bathing tents. Earlier in the day, his wife had come across a man with a boat, and after a rather hilarious mix up, Hasani had actually decided that he liked the man. While generally not trusting of strangers, Hasani tended to keep an open mind.
Neena had played a big part in that confidence and curiosity about strangers. However, he knew a few of the other tribes might not agree on such a man remaining among the tribes, so Hasani had instructed Saro to remain within the Zaire encampment despite the area being a port. Hasani was curious and wanted to know more about the man and that could not be done if the foreigner found himself dead by the hands of another tribe.
He was on the hunt for the man as well as the tent that they could both bathe in. Though, Hasani knew bathing to be much different to those not of the tribe. With his araa straped to his side he was intent on inviting Saro to bathe with him and some of the other men of the tribe. It was such a dangerous curiosity that his second wife had instilled in him and it was one that he was keen not to lose.
Weaving along the paths and past tents, Hasani let his gaze dart this way and that before he finally caught sight of the man he was looking for. "Ah! Saro!" Hasani called jovially, approaching the foreigner. "Bath, yes?"
With the sandstorm raging on, the Bedoan tribes had continued to shelter in the Port of the West. Having walked so long to the back of the tribe, herding the other tribe members forward instead of letting them lag behind, Hasani was both exhausted and he felt exceedingly disgusting. Walking through the desert was his way of life, but it had been nearly a week since they had bathed and the man had instructed the men to construct the tent in order to bathe. So far, the men of the tribe had been settled into a few of the tents that had been put together.
After a meal of couscous and dried fish, he had pressed a kiss to Tanishe's head and left to head toward one of the bathing tents. Earlier in the day, his wife had come across a man with a boat, and after a rather hilarious mix up, Hasani had actually decided that he liked the man. While generally not trusting of strangers, Hasani tended to keep an open mind.
Neena had played a big part in that confidence and curiosity about strangers. However, he knew a few of the other tribes might not agree on such a man remaining among the tribes, so Hasani had instructed Saro to remain within the Zaire encampment despite the area being a port. Hasani was curious and wanted to know more about the man and that could not be done if the foreigner found himself dead by the hands of another tribe.
He was on the hunt for the man as well as the tent that they could both bathe in. Though, Hasani knew bathing to be much different to those not of the tribe. With his araa straped to his side he was intent on inviting Saro to bathe with him and some of the other men of the tribe. It was such a dangerous curiosity that his second wife had instilled in him and it was one that he was keen not to lose.
Weaving along the paths and past tents, Hasani let his gaze dart this way and that before he finally caught sight of the man he was looking for. "Ah! Saro!" Hasani called jovially, approaching the foreigner. "Bath, yes?"
So far his experience in Bedoa had been an interesting one, the woman he had run into and he had some very confusing interactions trying to figure out what the other was trying to say without speaking the same language. It had ended up as sort of chaos for the two of them. Luckily for Saro, her husband had eventually come along, and after a little bit of confusion it was discovered that the two men shared a language. Both of them could speak the common tongue of Egypt, at least for the most part, so they could communicate. It made things so much easier when they were able to actually talk.
They straightened everything out, and Saro was invited to set his tent up among their people. He did so, sticking as close to Hasani and Tanishe’s tent as he could, knowing that strangers weren’t always seen as a good thing. Though he wasn’t normally one to be afraid of someone coming after him, that was because he was usually able to talk himself out of those situations, or escape to the rest of the crew. But considering there were few here who spoke a language he knew and the rest of the crew were sailing off else where, he was in a sort of awkward place. Lucky for him Hasani had come along, and the man seemed almost excited to welcome the stranger into his camp.
As a sign of good will, Saro had shown Hasani everything he had on him, including the daggers he kept hidden on his person. He had no reason to hide anything from them. They didn’t really have anything he cared to steal, he was just genuinely curious about these lands and the people who called them home. None of his crew could tell him much about them, none of them having spent any time there due to the lack of treasure to loot and the absence of whorehouses.
He was at his small tent, it was just enough for him to have a little shelter while he slept at night, using the rest of the things in his pack as a pillow as he slept. He didn’t bring much, figuring he would find food and water as needed. He hadn’t expected the hospitality from Hasani, but he was grateful to his host for it.
Saro looked up as he heard his name in that distinct accent, flashing the man a smile as he approached. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the question. He wanted... Saro to bathe with him? He shrugged a little, he wasn’t a shy person by any means, half the time he was only half clothed to start with. He tossed his daggers into his tent, letting the flap close as he stood properly to face Hasani.
“Absolutely!” He agreed, giving him a friendly laugh. “Lead the way my friend!” He said, already reaching back to tie his black hair back with the leather strip that he carried on him at all times as he waited to follow the man to where ever they were going to bathe. He was interested to see how they went about it, it seemed to differ from place to place.
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So far his experience in Bedoa had been an interesting one, the woman he had run into and he had some very confusing interactions trying to figure out what the other was trying to say without speaking the same language. It had ended up as sort of chaos for the two of them. Luckily for Saro, her husband had eventually come along, and after a little bit of confusion it was discovered that the two men shared a language. Both of them could speak the common tongue of Egypt, at least for the most part, so they could communicate. It made things so much easier when they were able to actually talk.
They straightened everything out, and Saro was invited to set his tent up among their people. He did so, sticking as close to Hasani and Tanishe’s tent as he could, knowing that strangers weren’t always seen as a good thing. Though he wasn’t normally one to be afraid of someone coming after him, that was because he was usually able to talk himself out of those situations, or escape to the rest of the crew. But considering there were few here who spoke a language he knew and the rest of the crew were sailing off else where, he was in a sort of awkward place. Lucky for him Hasani had come along, and the man seemed almost excited to welcome the stranger into his camp.
As a sign of good will, Saro had shown Hasani everything he had on him, including the daggers he kept hidden on his person. He had no reason to hide anything from them. They didn’t really have anything he cared to steal, he was just genuinely curious about these lands and the people who called them home. None of his crew could tell him much about them, none of them having spent any time there due to the lack of treasure to loot and the absence of whorehouses.
He was at his small tent, it was just enough for him to have a little shelter while he slept at night, using the rest of the things in his pack as a pillow as he slept. He didn’t bring much, figuring he would find food and water as needed. He hadn’t expected the hospitality from Hasani, but he was grateful to his host for it.
Saro looked up as he heard his name in that distinct accent, flashing the man a smile as he approached. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the question. He wanted... Saro to bathe with him? He shrugged a little, he wasn’t a shy person by any means, half the time he was only half clothed to start with. He tossed his daggers into his tent, letting the flap close as he stood properly to face Hasani.
“Absolutely!” He agreed, giving him a friendly laugh. “Lead the way my friend!” He said, already reaching back to tie his black hair back with the leather strip that he carried on him at all times as he waited to follow the man to where ever they were going to bathe. He was interested to see how they went about it, it seemed to differ from place to place.
So far his experience in Bedoa had been an interesting one, the woman he had run into and he had some very confusing interactions trying to figure out what the other was trying to say without speaking the same language. It had ended up as sort of chaos for the two of them. Luckily for Saro, her husband had eventually come along, and after a little bit of confusion it was discovered that the two men shared a language. Both of them could speak the common tongue of Egypt, at least for the most part, so they could communicate. It made things so much easier when they were able to actually talk.
They straightened everything out, and Saro was invited to set his tent up among their people. He did so, sticking as close to Hasani and Tanishe’s tent as he could, knowing that strangers weren’t always seen as a good thing. Though he wasn’t normally one to be afraid of someone coming after him, that was because he was usually able to talk himself out of those situations, or escape to the rest of the crew. But considering there were few here who spoke a language he knew and the rest of the crew were sailing off else where, he was in a sort of awkward place. Lucky for him Hasani had come along, and the man seemed almost excited to welcome the stranger into his camp.
As a sign of good will, Saro had shown Hasani everything he had on him, including the daggers he kept hidden on his person. He had no reason to hide anything from them. They didn’t really have anything he cared to steal, he was just genuinely curious about these lands and the people who called them home. None of his crew could tell him much about them, none of them having spent any time there due to the lack of treasure to loot and the absence of whorehouses.
He was at his small tent, it was just enough for him to have a little shelter while he slept at night, using the rest of the things in his pack as a pillow as he slept. He didn’t bring much, figuring he would find food and water as needed. He hadn’t expected the hospitality from Hasani, but he was grateful to his host for it.
Saro looked up as he heard his name in that distinct accent, flashing the man a smile as he approached. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the question. He wanted... Saro to bathe with him? He shrugged a little, he wasn’t a shy person by any means, half the time he was only half clothed to start with. He tossed his daggers into his tent, letting the flap close as he stood properly to face Hasani.
“Absolutely!” He agreed, giving him a friendly laugh. “Lead the way my friend!” He said, already reaching back to tie his black hair back with the leather strip that he carried on him at all times as he waited to follow the man to where ever they were going to bathe. He was interested to see how they went about it, it seemed to differ from place to place.
Hasani was pleased that it had taken so little to convince the man to join him for a bath. Bathing for Bedoans was an odd practice to many. They bathed completely naked, sitting in a tent, talking and playing games, usually. A fire would burn in the center and they would drink alcohol and smoke camel dung. They would sweat as a way of bathing before a slave would trail a knife against every inch of their skin to remove the dirt and toxins they would sweat out. Then they would use a little bit of water, precious and much needed, to fully clean the rest of their bodies.
A practice such as this was done only about once every seven days simply because the water they carried was so vital and precious. There was a finite amount of water in a tribe. To use so much of it just to bathe was a waste and the tribe liked to use every bit of things that they could. That meant using water for where it was most needed. They could drink goat or camel milk if they were thirsty.
Motioning for Saro to follow him through the maze of tents, Hasani followed beside him. "We bathe together. The men. There is alcohol and camel dung to smoke. It is a languid but enjoyable affair," Hasani explained in his best coptic, pausing to let a gaggle of children rush past on tiny limbs. "Careful!" the man called after them.
One of the boys turned and ran backwards for a few paces, "Yes, leier!" the boy called back before turning and running to follow the rest.
Chuckling, Hasani shook his head. "Little ones are so vibrant even when having walked many miles to escape a sandstorm," he commented as they reached the tent. He opened the flap and motioned Saro inside. There were some bedoan men already settled there, passing drink and smoke around a circle. They were naked and watching the fire that made the tent stifling. Hasani started to undress without reservation, saying a greeting in his own language and looking to Saro to follow suit.
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Hasani was pleased that it had taken so little to convince the man to join him for a bath. Bathing for Bedoans was an odd practice to many. They bathed completely naked, sitting in a tent, talking and playing games, usually. A fire would burn in the center and they would drink alcohol and smoke camel dung. They would sweat as a way of bathing before a slave would trail a knife against every inch of their skin to remove the dirt and toxins they would sweat out. Then they would use a little bit of water, precious and much needed, to fully clean the rest of their bodies.
A practice such as this was done only about once every seven days simply because the water they carried was so vital and precious. There was a finite amount of water in a tribe. To use so much of it just to bathe was a waste and the tribe liked to use every bit of things that they could. That meant using water for where it was most needed. They could drink goat or camel milk if they were thirsty.
Motioning for Saro to follow him through the maze of tents, Hasani followed beside him. "We bathe together. The men. There is alcohol and camel dung to smoke. It is a languid but enjoyable affair," Hasani explained in his best coptic, pausing to let a gaggle of children rush past on tiny limbs. "Careful!" the man called after them.
One of the boys turned and ran backwards for a few paces, "Yes, leier!" the boy called back before turning and running to follow the rest.
Chuckling, Hasani shook his head. "Little ones are so vibrant even when having walked many miles to escape a sandstorm," he commented as they reached the tent. He opened the flap and motioned Saro inside. There were some bedoan men already settled there, passing drink and smoke around a circle. They were naked and watching the fire that made the tent stifling. Hasani started to undress without reservation, saying a greeting in his own language and looking to Saro to follow suit.
Hasani was pleased that it had taken so little to convince the man to join him for a bath. Bathing for Bedoans was an odd practice to many. They bathed completely naked, sitting in a tent, talking and playing games, usually. A fire would burn in the center and they would drink alcohol and smoke camel dung. They would sweat as a way of bathing before a slave would trail a knife against every inch of their skin to remove the dirt and toxins they would sweat out. Then they would use a little bit of water, precious and much needed, to fully clean the rest of their bodies.
A practice such as this was done only about once every seven days simply because the water they carried was so vital and precious. There was a finite amount of water in a tribe. To use so much of it just to bathe was a waste and the tribe liked to use every bit of things that they could. That meant using water for where it was most needed. They could drink goat or camel milk if they were thirsty.
Motioning for Saro to follow him through the maze of tents, Hasani followed beside him. "We bathe together. The men. There is alcohol and camel dung to smoke. It is a languid but enjoyable affair," Hasani explained in his best coptic, pausing to let a gaggle of children rush past on tiny limbs. "Careful!" the man called after them.
One of the boys turned and ran backwards for a few paces, "Yes, leier!" the boy called back before turning and running to follow the rest.
Chuckling, Hasani shook his head. "Little ones are so vibrant even when having walked many miles to escape a sandstorm," he commented as they reached the tent. He opened the flap and motioned Saro inside. There were some bedoan men already settled there, passing drink and smoke around a circle. They were naked and watching the fire that made the tent stifling. Hasani started to undress without reservation, saying a greeting in his own language and looking to Saro to follow suit.
Saro gave him another look of surprise as he said they smoked camel dung. He followed the other man, but was definitely a little more concerned about doing so after hearing that. He couldn’t think of a possible reason they would smoke the excrement of an animal. That was definitely one of the weirder things he had ever heard of. He played idly with one of the necklaces that hung from his neck, he was one for trying new things, but he wasn’t so sure that was a new thing he wanted to try. He could only imagine the reaction when he told his crew he had tried smoking camel dung, they would really be entertained by that. He could already hear the names they’d make up for him.
Saro paused when he did, letting the children run past the two of them as he scolded them lightly. He liked the whole vibe here, everyone seemed so free, there wasn’t all the pressure of society that most other civilizations had imposed on themselves. Of course there was some sense of structure and leadership, but it wasn’t like Greece or Egypt. It reminded him of his home on the ship.
He chuckled as the man commented on the kids energy. “I see that. I don’t think children ever get tired.” He said, though he didn’t have a lot of experience with them. He was the only child born on the ship, and they didn’t make it a habit to have kids on their ship. He probably had a few of his own some where out there, but none that he would ever meet.
“How long has everyone been here?” He asked curiously, wondering if his timing was just that good that he’d arrived just when there were people at the port already when normally there wouldn’t really be anyone.
Saro ducked a little as he walked into the tent, careful not to hit his head. He was a little surprised to see a few naked men just hanging out together, but he supposed he shouldn’t have been, he had been told that this was exactly what to expect, but it was still a little odd. His new found friend wasted no time in beginning to strip down and Saro couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. These Bedoans were a shameless people, and it oddly made him feel welcome. The fact that they would invite him to join in on something like this, completely vulnerable were he to launch some sort of attack.
Thankful that he had left his daggers back at his tent so none of the other men were worried about an armed stranger joining them. He wasn’t sure if these men would speak the same language as Hasani did, or if it would be a bunch of translating and hand gestures if he wished to talk to them.
Saro began to get undressed, stripping his clothes off with no shame, he put them in a pile before slipping off all of the jewelry that normally adorned his hands and neck. The missing jewelry was the part that made him feel truly naked, and a little uncomfortable. He followed Hasani’s lead and took a seat with the other men. He offered the other men a friendly smile, sitting there looking completely out of place.
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Saro gave him another look of surprise as he said they smoked camel dung. He followed the other man, but was definitely a little more concerned about doing so after hearing that. He couldn’t think of a possible reason they would smoke the excrement of an animal. That was definitely one of the weirder things he had ever heard of. He played idly with one of the necklaces that hung from his neck, he was one for trying new things, but he wasn’t so sure that was a new thing he wanted to try. He could only imagine the reaction when he told his crew he had tried smoking camel dung, they would really be entertained by that. He could already hear the names they’d make up for him.
Saro paused when he did, letting the children run past the two of them as he scolded them lightly. He liked the whole vibe here, everyone seemed so free, there wasn’t all the pressure of society that most other civilizations had imposed on themselves. Of course there was some sense of structure and leadership, but it wasn’t like Greece or Egypt. It reminded him of his home on the ship.
He chuckled as the man commented on the kids energy. “I see that. I don’t think children ever get tired.” He said, though he didn’t have a lot of experience with them. He was the only child born on the ship, and they didn’t make it a habit to have kids on their ship. He probably had a few of his own some where out there, but none that he would ever meet.
“How long has everyone been here?” He asked curiously, wondering if his timing was just that good that he’d arrived just when there were people at the port already when normally there wouldn’t really be anyone.
Saro ducked a little as he walked into the tent, careful not to hit his head. He was a little surprised to see a few naked men just hanging out together, but he supposed he shouldn’t have been, he had been told that this was exactly what to expect, but it was still a little odd. His new found friend wasted no time in beginning to strip down and Saro couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. These Bedoans were a shameless people, and it oddly made him feel welcome. The fact that they would invite him to join in on something like this, completely vulnerable were he to launch some sort of attack.
Thankful that he had left his daggers back at his tent so none of the other men were worried about an armed stranger joining them. He wasn’t sure if these men would speak the same language as Hasani did, or if it would be a bunch of translating and hand gestures if he wished to talk to them.
Saro began to get undressed, stripping his clothes off with no shame, he put them in a pile before slipping off all of the jewelry that normally adorned his hands and neck. The missing jewelry was the part that made him feel truly naked, and a little uncomfortable. He followed Hasani’s lead and took a seat with the other men. He offered the other men a friendly smile, sitting there looking completely out of place.
Saro gave him another look of surprise as he said they smoked camel dung. He followed the other man, but was definitely a little more concerned about doing so after hearing that. He couldn’t think of a possible reason they would smoke the excrement of an animal. That was definitely one of the weirder things he had ever heard of. He played idly with one of the necklaces that hung from his neck, he was one for trying new things, but he wasn’t so sure that was a new thing he wanted to try. He could only imagine the reaction when he told his crew he had tried smoking camel dung, they would really be entertained by that. He could already hear the names they’d make up for him.
Saro paused when he did, letting the children run past the two of them as he scolded them lightly. He liked the whole vibe here, everyone seemed so free, there wasn’t all the pressure of society that most other civilizations had imposed on themselves. Of course there was some sense of structure and leadership, but it wasn’t like Greece or Egypt. It reminded him of his home on the ship.
He chuckled as the man commented on the kids energy. “I see that. I don’t think children ever get tired.” He said, though he didn’t have a lot of experience with them. He was the only child born on the ship, and they didn’t make it a habit to have kids on their ship. He probably had a few of his own some where out there, but none that he would ever meet.
“How long has everyone been here?” He asked curiously, wondering if his timing was just that good that he’d arrived just when there were people at the port already when normally there wouldn’t really be anyone.
Saro ducked a little as he walked into the tent, careful not to hit his head. He was a little surprised to see a few naked men just hanging out together, but he supposed he shouldn’t have been, he had been told that this was exactly what to expect, but it was still a little odd. His new found friend wasted no time in beginning to strip down and Saro couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. These Bedoans were a shameless people, and it oddly made him feel welcome. The fact that they would invite him to join in on something like this, completely vulnerable were he to launch some sort of attack.
Thankful that he had left his daggers back at his tent so none of the other men were worried about an armed stranger joining them. He wasn’t sure if these men would speak the same language as Hasani did, or if it would be a bunch of translating and hand gestures if he wished to talk to them.
Saro began to get undressed, stripping his clothes off with no shame, he put them in a pile before slipping off all of the jewelry that normally adorned his hands and neck. The missing jewelry was the part that made him feel truly naked, and a little uncomfortable. He followed Hasani’s lead and took a seat with the other men. He offered the other men a friendly smile, sitting there looking completely out of place.
Honestly, the Bedoans didn't really have much of a concept of shame. At least in terms of the body. Of course, a woman who had not borne children was expected to be considerably more conservative than the women who had. Bodies were not seen as inherently sexual. A woman's body, if left exposed, was seen as a sign that she had born children and was fully claimed by her husband. A woman who hadn't would be seen as provogative and inappropriate. It was why the women bathed completely alone unless the slave who aided them in their washing was a eunuch.
In a tent full of men who were no more concerned with one another's bodies than they were the state of politics in the Greek Kingdoms, there was literally no shame at all. In fact, many of the men raised hands in greeting to Hasani. A few looked nervous about the foreigner, but if the leier said he was okay, then he really was. Looking to Saro, Hasani gave a slight smile, "A little while. Not long. I just needed to ensure that the tribe was set up for the night," the man noted with a shrug.
"The harsh desert sands have left everyone feeling grimy and this is the perfect period of rest in which a bath is required," the leier was saying in coptic to Saro, not really even giving him a once over as he approached the circle. Settling down and sitting cross-legged in the circle, one of the men leaned over to hand him some of the alcohol that they were passing about. The skein was still quite full, but Hasani knew that there was really more where this came from.
Taking a long, easy swig, he savored the fruity, biting taste and then offered it to Saro. "Fruit wine. Traded from Egypt," he said with an easygoing smile.
The tent was stifling and many of the men were deep into conversation or playing a game of betting. The fire was stoked constantly by slaves, ensuring that the flame didn't waver or wither and that everyone could enjoy the bath. It would not take long for the two men to start sweating, which was what was required before the slaves could help scrape the dirt and excess off their skin.
"How far did you travel to be here, Saro?" Hasani offered after a few moments of quiet from the leier. Like Neena, this foreigner struck him with an extreme, innate curiosity that made him want to know more.
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Honestly, the Bedoans didn't really have much of a concept of shame. At least in terms of the body. Of course, a woman who had not borne children was expected to be considerably more conservative than the women who had. Bodies were not seen as inherently sexual. A woman's body, if left exposed, was seen as a sign that she had born children and was fully claimed by her husband. A woman who hadn't would be seen as provogative and inappropriate. It was why the women bathed completely alone unless the slave who aided them in their washing was a eunuch.
In a tent full of men who were no more concerned with one another's bodies than they were the state of politics in the Greek Kingdoms, there was literally no shame at all. In fact, many of the men raised hands in greeting to Hasani. A few looked nervous about the foreigner, but if the leier said he was okay, then he really was. Looking to Saro, Hasani gave a slight smile, "A little while. Not long. I just needed to ensure that the tribe was set up for the night," the man noted with a shrug.
"The harsh desert sands have left everyone feeling grimy and this is the perfect period of rest in which a bath is required," the leier was saying in coptic to Saro, not really even giving him a once over as he approached the circle. Settling down and sitting cross-legged in the circle, one of the men leaned over to hand him some of the alcohol that they were passing about. The skein was still quite full, but Hasani knew that there was really more where this came from.
Taking a long, easy swig, he savored the fruity, biting taste and then offered it to Saro. "Fruit wine. Traded from Egypt," he said with an easygoing smile.
The tent was stifling and many of the men were deep into conversation or playing a game of betting. The fire was stoked constantly by slaves, ensuring that the flame didn't waver or wither and that everyone could enjoy the bath. It would not take long for the two men to start sweating, which was what was required before the slaves could help scrape the dirt and excess off their skin.
"How far did you travel to be here, Saro?" Hasani offered after a few moments of quiet from the leier. Like Neena, this foreigner struck him with an extreme, innate curiosity that made him want to know more.
Honestly, the Bedoans didn't really have much of a concept of shame. At least in terms of the body. Of course, a woman who had not borne children was expected to be considerably more conservative than the women who had. Bodies were not seen as inherently sexual. A woman's body, if left exposed, was seen as a sign that she had born children and was fully claimed by her husband. A woman who hadn't would be seen as provogative and inappropriate. It was why the women bathed completely alone unless the slave who aided them in their washing was a eunuch.
In a tent full of men who were no more concerned with one another's bodies than they were the state of politics in the Greek Kingdoms, there was literally no shame at all. In fact, many of the men raised hands in greeting to Hasani. A few looked nervous about the foreigner, but if the leier said he was okay, then he really was. Looking to Saro, Hasani gave a slight smile, "A little while. Not long. I just needed to ensure that the tribe was set up for the night," the man noted with a shrug.
"The harsh desert sands have left everyone feeling grimy and this is the perfect period of rest in which a bath is required," the leier was saying in coptic to Saro, not really even giving him a once over as he approached the circle. Settling down and sitting cross-legged in the circle, one of the men leaned over to hand him some of the alcohol that they were passing about. The skein was still quite full, but Hasani knew that there was really more where this came from.
Taking a long, easy swig, he savored the fruity, biting taste and then offered it to Saro. "Fruit wine. Traded from Egypt," he said with an easygoing smile.
The tent was stifling and many of the men were deep into conversation or playing a game of betting. The fire was stoked constantly by slaves, ensuring that the flame didn't waver or wither and that everyone could enjoy the bath. It would not take long for the two men to start sweating, which was what was required before the slaves could help scrape the dirt and excess off their skin.
"How far did you travel to be here, Saro?" Hasani offered after a few moments of quiet from the leier. Like Neena, this foreigner struck him with an extreme, innate curiosity that made him want to know more.
Saro was probably a lot more concerned with other mens bodies than any of the men here, but he did not make his new friend aware of that fact. He had no idea where the Bedoans stood on the subject of men laying with men, and so he did not want to anger his host with it if the topic was not relevant to either of them. It wasn’t as if he was in this tent to check out the other men, he was at least a little more respectful of that. He had been invited in to join them despite being an outsider to them, which he realize might be a big deal to them.
He nodded when he explained that the sands had left them all in need of a bath. He could understand, sand tended to make one feel as if they were coated in a layer of it. He wasn’t a huge fan of the stuff, and yet he kept finding himself in places covered with it. He supposed when you spent your life raiding coastal places, that would be an unfortunate aspect of it. He took the offered alcohol, not entirely expecting Egyptian wine to be found here, but grateful that he was, half expecting to be told this too was made out of camel dung. He took a drink, careful not to drink too much despite how much he loved it, he offered it to the next man beside him, giving him a warm smile as it was taken from his hands. His attentions turned back to Hasani. “Does anyone else in your tribe speak this language or another?” He asked curiously, wondering if the bulk of his conversations would only be had with Hasani. He supposed if that were true, he would end up getting to know the man well. His plans had included travelling back to Egypt from here, on his own, where he would meet back up with the ship and the crew. A plan which would be delayed due to the sandstorm that he had been unaware of while making said plans.
He felt himself heating up, sweat already beginning to form on his skin as Hasani asked where he had traveled from. “Before this, I was in Greece. Colchis to be precise.” He said, wiping some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand so it did not drip into his eyes.
“Before that, Egypt. Before that, many other foreign lands. I have been most every where that can be reached by ship, though this is my first time in your lands.” He explained, wondering if Hasani had ever been any where but here and perhaps Egypt.
“I was curious, to learn the ways of your people. I have heard stories but no one I know has much knowledge on the subject, so I thought what better way to educate myself than to learn directly from the people themselves.” He said with a little laugh.
Hasani seemed to be a good-natured man, he had welcomed Saro with open arms despite having no idea who he was or where he came from, and his wife had done the same, though that was a bit more of a strange introduction since neither of them had been able to verbally communicate.
“Do these sandstorms happen often?” He said, he had a lot of questions for the man, but he was trying not to bombard him, he would have time to learn the answers, assuming Hasani cared enough to keep him around for a while. He would take things one day at a time, happy to pitch in with work or whatever needed to be done as long as he was allowed to stay, he had no problems earning his keep. Most of the time Saro was a drunk, loud and brash and more often than not, a trouble maker, but sometimes when he felt the effort was worth it, he could work hard and be respectful.
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Saro was probably a lot more concerned with other mens bodies than any of the men here, but he did not make his new friend aware of that fact. He had no idea where the Bedoans stood on the subject of men laying with men, and so he did not want to anger his host with it if the topic was not relevant to either of them. It wasn’t as if he was in this tent to check out the other men, he was at least a little more respectful of that. He had been invited in to join them despite being an outsider to them, which he realize might be a big deal to them.
He nodded when he explained that the sands had left them all in need of a bath. He could understand, sand tended to make one feel as if they were coated in a layer of it. He wasn’t a huge fan of the stuff, and yet he kept finding himself in places covered with it. He supposed when you spent your life raiding coastal places, that would be an unfortunate aspect of it. He took the offered alcohol, not entirely expecting Egyptian wine to be found here, but grateful that he was, half expecting to be told this too was made out of camel dung. He took a drink, careful not to drink too much despite how much he loved it, he offered it to the next man beside him, giving him a warm smile as it was taken from his hands. His attentions turned back to Hasani. “Does anyone else in your tribe speak this language or another?” He asked curiously, wondering if the bulk of his conversations would only be had with Hasani. He supposed if that were true, he would end up getting to know the man well. His plans had included travelling back to Egypt from here, on his own, where he would meet back up with the ship and the crew. A plan which would be delayed due to the sandstorm that he had been unaware of while making said plans.
He felt himself heating up, sweat already beginning to form on his skin as Hasani asked where he had traveled from. “Before this, I was in Greece. Colchis to be precise.” He said, wiping some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand so it did not drip into his eyes.
“Before that, Egypt. Before that, many other foreign lands. I have been most every where that can be reached by ship, though this is my first time in your lands.” He explained, wondering if Hasani had ever been any where but here and perhaps Egypt.
“I was curious, to learn the ways of your people. I have heard stories but no one I know has much knowledge on the subject, so I thought what better way to educate myself than to learn directly from the people themselves.” He said with a little laugh.
Hasani seemed to be a good-natured man, he had welcomed Saro with open arms despite having no idea who he was or where he came from, and his wife had done the same, though that was a bit more of a strange introduction since neither of them had been able to verbally communicate.
“Do these sandstorms happen often?” He said, he had a lot of questions for the man, but he was trying not to bombard him, he would have time to learn the answers, assuming Hasani cared enough to keep him around for a while. He would take things one day at a time, happy to pitch in with work or whatever needed to be done as long as he was allowed to stay, he had no problems earning his keep. Most of the time Saro was a drunk, loud and brash and more often than not, a trouble maker, but sometimes when he felt the effort was worth it, he could work hard and be respectful.
Saro was probably a lot more concerned with other mens bodies than any of the men here, but he did not make his new friend aware of that fact. He had no idea where the Bedoans stood on the subject of men laying with men, and so he did not want to anger his host with it if the topic was not relevant to either of them. It wasn’t as if he was in this tent to check out the other men, he was at least a little more respectful of that. He had been invited in to join them despite being an outsider to them, which he realize might be a big deal to them.
He nodded when he explained that the sands had left them all in need of a bath. He could understand, sand tended to make one feel as if they were coated in a layer of it. He wasn’t a huge fan of the stuff, and yet he kept finding himself in places covered with it. He supposed when you spent your life raiding coastal places, that would be an unfortunate aspect of it. He took the offered alcohol, not entirely expecting Egyptian wine to be found here, but grateful that he was, half expecting to be told this too was made out of camel dung. He took a drink, careful not to drink too much despite how much he loved it, he offered it to the next man beside him, giving him a warm smile as it was taken from his hands. His attentions turned back to Hasani. “Does anyone else in your tribe speak this language or another?” He asked curiously, wondering if the bulk of his conversations would only be had with Hasani. He supposed if that were true, he would end up getting to know the man well. His plans had included travelling back to Egypt from here, on his own, where he would meet back up with the ship and the crew. A plan which would be delayed due to the sandstorm that he had been unaware of while making said plans.
He felt himself heating up, sweat already beginning to form on his skin as Hasani asked where he had traveled from. “Before this, I was in Greece. Colchis to be precise.” He said, wiping some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand so it did not drip into his eyes.
“Before that, Egypt. Before that, many other foreign lands. I have been most every where that can be reached by ship, though this is my first time in your lands.” He explained, wondering if Hasani had ever been any where but here and perhaps Egypt.
“I was curious, to learn the ways of your people. I have heard stories but no one I know has much knowledge on the subject, so I thought what better way to educate myself than to learn directly from the people themselves.” He said with a little laugh.
Hasani seemed to be a good-natured man, he had welcomed Saro with open arms despite having no idea who he was or where he came from, and his wife had done the same, though that was a bit more of a strange introduction since neither of them had been able to verbally communicate.
“Do these sandstorms happen often?” He said, he had a lot of questions for the man, but he was trying not to bombard him, he would have time to learn the answers, assuming Hasani cared enough to keep him around for a while. He would take things one day at a time, happy to pitch in with work or whatever needed to be done as long as he was allowed to stay, he had no problems earning his keep. Most of the time Saro was a drunk, loud and brash and more often than not, a trouble maker, but sometimes when he felt the effort was worth it, he could work hard and be respectful.
Hasani was nodding to himself when one of his tribe mates asked him a question. Laughing along with them, he smirked to himself and then brought his gaze back toward Saro when the first question was asked of him. “Mwenye speaks coptic. A few others may, but otherwise they speak our traditional language,” Hasani answered him with a relaxed expression. “I learned the language when I as younger. The previous leier dealt with Egypt in trade. I shadowed him as his bodyguard before he died,” Hasani explained lightly.
“My second wife has explored the world much like you,” Hasani said quietly. He looked a little wistful at the mention of Neena. He wasn’t going to talk about her any further at the moment, and his expression showed it. She wasn’t dead, but everyone else besides Tanishe thought she was. “Do you like to travel, Saro?” he asked absently, shaking his head a bit as if washing away thoughts of Neena. “Or do you do so out of necessity?” he asked then, lifting an eyebrow at the other man.
When Saro mentioned being curious about the Bedoan people, Hasani smirked. “I would be happy to teach you,” he noted, giving him another shrug. “We are a more peaceful tribe. I am relieved that it was my leieren who found you instead another tribe. You may not have been so lucky as to come out unscathed. Tanishe has a kind heart, much of our tribe does too. Some may be suspicious of you, as is our natural inclination, Saro, but most will be kind to you. If only because I have proven that you are of no harm to us,” Hasani said quietly.
At the question of the sandstorm, Hasani lifted an eyebrow, “Not as often as you might think. This has been the first in a while. Many times we can avoid them. This one is large,” he noted quietly, nodding to himself. “Hopefully it will pass in a few days.”
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Hasani was nodding to himself when one of his tribe mates asked him a question. Laughing along with them, he smirked to himself and then brought his gaze back toward Saro when the first question was asked of him. “Mwenye speaks coptic. A few others may, but otherwise they speak our traditional language,” Hasani answered him with a relaxed expression. “I learned the language when I as younger. The previous leier dealt with Egypt in trade. I shadowed him as his bodyguard before he died,” Hasani explained lightly.
“My second wife has explored the world much like you,” Hasani said quietly. He looked a little wistful at the mention of Neena. He wasn’t going to talk about her any further at the moment, and his expression showed it. She wasn’t dead, but everyone else besides Tanishe thought she was. “Do you like to travel, Saro?” he asked absently, shaking his head a bit as if washing away thoughts of Neena. “Or do you do so out of necessity?” he asked then, lifting an eyebrow at the other man.
When Saro mentioned being curious about the Bedoan people, Hasani smirked. “I would be happy to teach you,” he noted, giving him another shrug. “We are a more peaceful tribe. I am relieved that it was my leieren who found you instead another tribe. You may not have been so lucky as to come out unscathed. Tanishe has a kind heart, much of our tribe does too. Some may be suspicious of you, as is our natural inclination, Saro, but most will be kind to you. If only because I have proven that you are of no harm to us,” Hasani said quietly.
At the question of the sandstorm, Hasani lifted an eyebrow, “Not as often as you might think. This has been the first in a while. Many times we can avoid them. This one is large,” he noted quietly, nodding to himself. “Hopefully it will pass in a few days.”
Hasani was nodding to himself when one of his tribe mates asked him a question. Laughing along with them, he smirked to himself and then brought his gaze back toward Saro when the first question was asked of him. “Mwenye speaks coptic. A few others may, but otherwise they speak our traditional language,” Hasani answered him with a relaxed expression. “I learned the language when I as younger. The previous leier dealt with Egypt in trade. I shadowed him as his bodyguard before he died,” Hasani explained lightly.
“My second wife has explored the world much like you,” Hasani said quietly. He looked a little wistful at the mention of Neena. He wasn’t going to talk about her any further at the moment, and his expression showed it. She wasn’t dead, but everyone else besides Tanishe thought she was. “Do you like to travel, Saro?” he asked absently, shaking his head a bit as if washing away thoughts of Neena. “Or do you do so out of necessity?” he asked then, lifting an eyebrow at the other man.
When Saro mentioned being curious about the Bedoan people, Hasani smirked. “I would be happy to teach you,” he noted, giving him another shrug. “We are a more peaceful tribe. I am relieved that it was my leieren who found you instead another tribe. You may not have been so lucky as to come out unscathed. Tanishe has a kind heart, much of our tribe does too. Some may be suspicious of you, as is our natural inclination, Saro, but most will be kind to you. If only because I have proven that you are of no harm to us,” Hasani said quietly.
At the question of the sandstorm, Hasani lifted an eyebrow, “Not as often as you might think. This has been the first in a while. Many times we can avoid them. This one is large,” he noted quietly, nodding to himself. “Hopefully it will pass in a few days.”
He nodded a little, taking note of the name he mentioned, he would need to see if he could find out who this other person was, speak with someone else. There was probably things he could learn from someone other than Hasani as well, different personalities and experiences made for different views, ones that Saro would be interested to hear of.
He listened as Hasani told him why he learned the Egyptian language and he smiled a little, it sounded like he had been close to this other man.
“I learned it in order to trade for supplies at ports originally, and then picked up more the more often we sailed there.” He explained, the first things he had learned in Coptic were how to ask for a drink and a few lines to use to flirt with women and men. He found that he had a particular inclination to Egyptians, there was something about them that just attracted him more so than usual.
Saro wanted to ask more about his second wife, it was news to him that they had more than one wife, and he was interested in that. He wasn't a one person man, so the aspect of having both the romance he sought as well as multiple partners was something that appealed to him. But from the look on Hasani's face, it was best not to probe further on the topic.
“I love to travel. I was born on the seas, my father and mother having sailed since before I was born, I've never known a home beyond the sea and the vessel on which we sail.” He explained, smiling wistfully as he thought about his home on the water. He loved his ship and he loved his crew that made up his family, there wasn't a thing he would change about how he grew up. He couldn't imagine being like the countless other people who were stuck in one place, their lives never moving, never changing. That was part of his worst nightmares, being trapped with no where to go, unable to roam.
“I do not blame them, I would be suspicious of them if they were not suspicious of me.” He said with a hearty laugh. “To be nervous of a strange man entering your camp is a natural thing. But I can assure you, I mean no harm.”
“A few days? Then I hope I can stay with your tribe until then, I will pitch in as best as I can to make up for your kindness. I travel for Egypt once more when the storm has passed.” He said, assuming Hasani would not mind him hanging around until the sand storm was gone, he would help with any work he could. He may not be the strongest man, but he was young and able to work.
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He nodded a little, taking note of the name he mentioned, he would need to see if he could find out who this other person was, speak with someone else. There was probably things he could learn from someone other than Hasani as well, different personalities and experiences made for different views, ones that Saro would be interested to hear of.
He listened as Hasani told him why he learned the Egyptian language and he smiled a little, it sounded like he had been close to this other man.
“I learned it in order to trade for supplies at ports originally, and then picked up more the more often we sailed there.” He explained, the first things he had learned in Coptic were how to ask for a drink and a few lines to use to flirt with women and men. He found that he had a particular inclination to Egyptians, there was something about them that just attracted him more so than usual.
Saro wanted to ask more about his second wife, it was news to him that they had more than one wife, and he was interested in that. He wasn't a one person man, so the aspect of having both the romance he sought as well as multiple partners was something that appealed to him. But from the look on Hasani's face, it was best not to probe further on the topic.
“I love to travel. I was born on the seas, my father and mother having sailed since before I was born, I've never known a home beyond the sea and the vessel on which we sail.” He explained, smiling wistfully as he thought about his home on the water. He loved his ship and he loved his crew that made up his family, there wasn't a thing he would change about how he grew up. He couldn't imagine being like the countless other people who were stuck in one place, their lives never moving, never changing. That was part of his worst nightmares, being trapped with no where to go, unable to roam.
“I do not blame them, I would be suspicious of them if they were not suspicious of me.” He said with a hearty laugh. “To be nervous of a strange man entering your camp is a natural thing. But I can assure you, I mean no harm.”
“A few days? Then I hope I can stay with your tribe until then, I will pitch in as best as I can to make up for your kindness. I travel for Egypt once more when the storm has passed.” He said, assuming Hasani would not mind him hanging around until the sand storm was gone, he would help with any work he could. He may not be the strongest man, but he was young and able to work.
He nodded a little, taking note of the name he mentioned, he would need to see if he could find out who this other person was, speak with someone else. There was probably things he could learn from someone other than Hasani as well, different personalities and experiences made for different views, ones that Saro would be interested to hear of.
He listened as Hasani told him why he learned the Egyptian language and he smiled a little, it sounded like he had been close to this other man.
“I learned it in order to trade for supplies at ports originally, and then picked up more the more often we sailed there.” He explained, the first things he had learned in Coptic were how to ask for a drink and a few lines to use to flirt with women and men. He found that he had a particular inclination to Egyptians, there was something about them that just attracted him more so than usual.
Saro wanted to ask more about his second wife, it was news to him that they had more than one wife, and he was interested in that. He wasn't a one person man, so the aspect of having both the romance he sought as well as multiple partners was something that appealed to him. But from the look on Hasani's face, it was best not to probe further on the topic.
“I love to travel. I was born on the seas, my father and mother having sailed since before I was born, I've never known a home beyond the sea and the vessel on which we sail.” He explained, smiling wistfully as he thought about his home on the water. He loved his ship and he loved his crew that made up his family, there wasn't a thing he would change about how he grew up. He couldn't imagine being like the countless other people who were stuck in one place, their lives never moving, never changing. That was part of his worst nightmares, being trapped with no where to go, unable to roam.
“I do not blame them, I would be suspicious of them if they were not suspicious of me.” He said with a hearty laugh. “To be nervous of a strange man entering your camp is a natural thing. But I can assure you, I mean no harm.”
“A few days? Then I hope I can stay with your tribe until then, I will pitch in as best as I can to make up for your kindness. I travel for Egypt once more when the storm has passed.” He said, assuming Hasani would not mind him hanging around until the sand storm was gone, he would help with any work he could. He may not be the strongest man, but he was young and able to work.
This man was rather interesting to the leier, and even some of the other men in the tent took to listening to their conversation. Then again, Hasani was sure that none of them could understand Coptic. None of them had any real reason to. If there were misunderstandings while trading, most of them just looked to Hasani or the prophets and healers that had taken easily to learning the langauge. Some knew enough to get by in a trade or a simple conversation. Others were more fluent, like Hasani himself.
Hasani nodded mostly to himself, dipping his head in affirmation that he had heard what Saro was saying. "You've taken boats across water, yes?" Hasani asked easily, now even more interested. Neena had once told him about her time on a ship, and Hasani would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in ever having the chance to sail. It sounded like an interesting, though absolutely terrifying experience. Part of him wanted to experience some of the same things as his second wife, and sailing had been one of them.
But the water seemed to be so similar to the sands of the Sahara. The sands were his ocean, the camel his ship. Hasani observed the expression on Saro's face when he spoke of his parents, tilting his head a bit. His parents had died when he was so young that he could hardly remember them now. The tribe had become his family. His protector. His nurturer. And now he was everyone's everything. The leier of his people with the responsiblity of caring for everyone in his Gesin.
"Where are your parents? Did they not sail with you to the port?" Hasani asked easily then, patting his hands on his slickening thighs. The tent was stifling, but no more stifling than the desert could be on a normal day. The heat was such a normal feeling, though he understood that some of the more delicate members of his Gesin struggled to breathe when sitting around the heat of the fire. "So long as I remain sure of you, so will they," Hasani assured Saro then, shaking his head a little, "They may not trust you entirely, but you have posed no harm to us, and had you, your head would not have remained on your shoulders."
He said it so confidently simply because it was a fact. Had Tanishe come to harm in her initial meeting with the man, Hasani would have taken his life right then and there without a second thought. But Saro had ended up confused and harmless and that was perfectly fine to him.
The shift of the conversation to traveling the sands toward Egypt had Hasani craning his neck back in Saro's direction. "Nonsense," the man said with that same confidence. "You will travel with the Zaire. If you cross the sands on your own, you will surely die. Just work alongside my people and you will be given shelter, food, and protection."
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This man was rather interesting to the leier, and even some of the other men in the tent took to listening to their conversation. Then again, Hasani was sure that none of them could understand Coptic. None of them had any real reason to. If there were misunderstandings while trading, most of them just looked to Hasani or the prophets and healers that had taken easily to learning the langauge. Some knew enough to get by in a trade or a simple conversation. Others were more fluent, like Hasani himself.
Hasani nodded mostly to himself, dipping his head in affirmation that he had heard what Saro was saying. "You've taken boats across water, yes?" Hasani asked easily, now even more interested. Neena had once told him about her time on a ship, and Hasani would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in ever having the chance to sail. It sounded like an interesting, though absolutely terrifying experience. Part of him wanted to experience some of the same things as his second wife, and sailing had been one of them.
But the water seemed to be so similar to the sands of the Sahara. The sands were his ocean, the camel his ship. Hasani observed the expression on Saro's face when he spoke of his parents, tilting his head a bit. His parents had died when he was so young that he could hardly remember them now. The tribe had become his family. His protector. His nurturer. And now he was everyone's everything. The leier of his people with the responsiblity of caring for everyone in his Gesin.
"Where are your parents? Did they not sail with you to the port?" Hasani asked easily then, patting his hands on his slickening thighs. The tent was stifling, but no more stifling than the desert could be on a normal day. The heat was such a normal feeling, though he understood that some of the more delicate members of his Gesin struggled to breathe when sitting around the heat of the fire. "So long as I remain sure of you, so will they," Hasani assured Saro then, shaking his head a little, "They may not trust you entirely, but you have posed no harm to us, and had you, your head would not have remained on your shoulders."
He said it so confidently simply because it was a fact. Had Tanishe come to harm in her initial meeting with the man, Hasani would have taken his life right then and there without a second thought. But Saro had ended up confused and harmless and that was perfectly fine to him.
The shift of the conversation to traveling the sands toward Egypt had Hasani craning his neck back in Saro's direction. "Nonsense," the man said with that same confidence. "You will travel with the Zaire. If you cross the sands on your own, you will surely die. Just work alongside my people and you will be given shelter, food, and protection."
This man was rather interesting to the leier, and even some of the other men in the tent took to listening to their conversation. Then again, Hasani was sure that none of them could understand Coptic. None of them had any real reason to. If there were misunderstandings while trading, most of them just looked to Hasani or the prophets and healers that had taken easily to learning the langauge. Some knew enough to get by in a trade or a simple conversation. Others were more fluent, like Hasani himself.
Hasani nodded mostly to himself, dipping his head in affirmation that he had heard what Saro was saying. "You've taken boats across water, yes?" Hasani asked easily, now even more interested. Neena had once told him about her time on a ship, and Hasani would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in ever having the chance to sail. It sounded like an interesting, though absolutely terrifying experience. Part of him wanted to experience some of the same things as his second wife, and sailing had been one of them.
But the water seemed to be so similar to the sands of the Sahara. The sands were his ocean, the camel his ship. Hasani observed the expression on Saro's face when he spoke of his parents, tilting his head a bit. His parents had died when he was so young that he could hardly remember them now. The tribe had become his family. His protector. His nurturer. And now he was everyone's everything. The leier of his people with the responsiblity of caring for everyone in his Gesin.
"Where are your parents? Did they not sail with you to the port?" Hasani asked easily then, patting his hands on his slickening thighs. The tent was stifling, but no more stifling than the desert could be on a normal day. The heat was such a normal feeling, though he understood that some of the more delicate members of his Gesin struggled to breathe when sitting around the heat of the fire. "So long as I remain sure of you, so will they," Hasani assured Saro then, shaking his head a little, "They may not trust you entirely, but you have posed no harm to us, and had you, your head would not have remained on your shoulders."
He said it so confidently simply because it was a fact. Had Tanishe come to harm in her initial meeting with the man, Hasani would have taken his life right then and there without a second thought. But Saro had ended up confused and harmless and that was perfectly fine to him.
The shift of the conversation to traveling the sands toward Egypt had Hasani craning his neck back in Saro's direction. "Nonsense," the man said with that same confidence. "You will travel with the Zaire. If you cross the sands on your own, you will surely die. Just work alongside my people and you will be given shelter, food, and protection."
He laughed a little as the other man asked him about having taken boats across water.
“Yes, you could say that. The majority of my life has been spent out on the water.” He said, saying that he had taken a boat across water was a bit of an understatement, Saro had travelled many miles over water to different places, never staying long any where that he went. Stealing, drinking and whoring where ever he ended up. Bedoa had been different so far, he had done none of his usual things, though he supposed if he did, it would have been hard to escape, especially since all he had was his little row boat.
“They are yet on our ship. No others on board had any interest in landing at your port, Bedoa proving to have nothing worth their time in their eyes. I was left with my row boat to come ashore on my own. I will meet them in Egypt in a few weeks time, assuming I am able to make it there. Else I will be stranded there until next time they return to the ports of Cairo.” He stated, which he realized might sound weird, but it wasn’t the first time Saro had decided he wanted to stay some where for awhile without drumming up interest from anyone else on the ship.
The heat of the tent was worse on Saro than most of the others, though he had faced the sweltering heat of Egypt and of some lands afar, the enclosed tent seemed to make the air harder to breathe, but he did not show his discomfort as they sat there, the sweat rolling down his tanned skin.
“Understand I truly mean no harm, I am merely curious of how your people live, and any Gods you worship. I like to learn of new lands.” He said simply, and he meant it. Besides, he was sure if he did intend harm, he would not be leaving there alive. He was certain that with how outnumbered he was, there would be no slipping out unnoticed.
He looked back over at Hasani, eyebrows furrowed a little at his next offer.
“You would be so kind as to offer me a temporary place among your people?” He asked, that was very trusting and generous of him, though Saro knew that it wouldn’t come free, of course he would be expected to pitch in. He didn’t expect anything less of the offer, though he was surprised by it none the less, especially since it came around unprompted by Saro himself.
“I would gladly accept your offer, and of course I will do what I can. I may not know the ways of your people, but I am young and capable, and willing to learn.” He said, unable to help the little grin that was on his face after the offer. He hadn’t been entirely sure how he was going to make it to Egypt, though he had considered asking to tag along. It was great that the offer was extended before he could bring it up.
“Along with my hands to help share the work, I also offer stories of all manner of lands if you so wish. I have been near every where that one person can, I have many tales that you and your people might find interesting to hear.” He offered, he loved to tell his stories. Partially because he liked to be the center of attention, and partially because... well he just liked to brag about all the things he’d done in his short life time.
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He laughed a little as the other man asked him about having taken boats across water.
“Yes, you could say that. The majority of my life has been spent out on the water.” He said, saying that he had taken a boat across water was a bit of an understatement, Saro had travelled many miles over water to different places, never staying long any where that he went. Stealing, drinking and whoring where ever he ended up. Bedoa had been different so far, he had done none of his usual things, though he supposed if he did, it would have been hard to escape, especially since all he had was his little row boat.
“They are yet on our ship. No others on board had any interest in landing at your port, Bedoa proving to have nothing worth their time in their eyes. I was left with my row boat to come ashore on my own. I will meet them in Egypt in a few weeks time, assuming I am able to make it there. Else I will be stranded there until next time they return to the ports of Cairo.” He stated, which he realized might sound weird, but it wasn’t the first time Saro had decided he wanted to stay some where for awhile without drumming up interest from anyone else on the ship.
The heat of the tent was worse on Saro than most of the others, though he had faced the sweltering heat of Egypt and of some lands afar, the enclosed tent seemed to make the air harder to breathe, but he did not show his discomfort as they sat there, the sweat rolling down his tanned skin.
“Understand I truly mean no harm, I am merely curious of how your people live, and any Gods you worship. I like to learn of new lands.” He said simply, and he meant it. Besides, he was sure if he did intend harm, he would not be leaving there alive. He was certain that with how outnumbered he was, there would be no slipping out unnoticed.
He looked back over at Hasani, eyebrows furrowed a little at his next offer.
“You would be so kind as to offer me a temporary place among your people?” He asked, that was very trusting and generous of him, though Saro knew that it wouldn’t come free, of course he would be expected to pitch in. He didn’t expect anything less of the offer, though he was surprised by it none the less, especially since it came around unprompted by Saro himself.
“I would gladly accept your offer, and of course I will do what I can. I may not know the ways of your people, but I am young and capable, and willing to learn.” He said, unable to help the little grin that was on his face after the offer. He hadn’t been entirely sure how he was going to make it to Egypt, though he had considered asking to tag along. It was great that the offer was extended before he could bring it up.
“Along with my hands to help share the work, I also offer stories of all manner of lands if you so wish. I have been near every where that one person can, I have many tales that you and your people might find interesting to hear.” He offered, he loved to tell his stories. Partially because he liked to be the center of attention, and partially because... well he just liked to brag about all the things he’d done in his short life time.
He laughed a little as the other man asked him about having taken boats across water.
“Yes, you could say that. The majority of my life has been spent out on the water.” He said, saying that he had taken a boat across water was a bit of an understatement, Saro had travelled many miles over water to different places, never staying long any where that he went. Stealing, drinking and whoring where ever he ended up. Bedoa had been different so far, he had done none of his usual things, though he supposed if he did, it would have been hard to escape, especially since all he had was his little row boat.
“They are yet on our ship. No others on board had any interest in landing at your port, Bedoa proving to have nothing worth their time in their eyes. I was left with my row boat to come ashore on my own. I will meet them in Egypt in a few weeks time, assuming I am able to make it there. Else I will be stranded there until next time they return to the ports of Cairo.” He stated, which he realized might sound weird, but it wasn’t the first time Saro had decided he wanted to stay some where for awhile without drumming up interest from anyone else on the ship.
The heat of the tent was worse on Saro than most of the others, though he had faced the sweltering heat of Egypt and of some lands afar, the enclosed tent seemed to make the air harder to breathe, but he did not show his discomfort as they sat there, the sweat rolling down his tanned skin.
“Understand I truly mean no harm, I am merely curious of how your people live, and any Gods you worship. I like to learn of new lands.” He said simply, and he meant it. Besides, he was sure if he did intend harm, he would not be leaving there alive. He was certain that with how outnumbered he was, there would be no slipping out unnoticed.
He looked back over at Hasani, eyebrows furrowed a little at his next offer.
“You would be so kind as to offer me a temporary place among your people?” He asked, that was very trusting and generous of him, though Saro knew that it wouldn’t come free, of course he would be expected to pitch in. He didn’t expect anything less of the offer, though he was surprised by it none the less, especially since it came around unprompted by Saro himself.
“I would gladly accept your offer, and of course I will do what I can. I may not know the ways of your people, but I am young and capable, and willing to learn.” He said, unable to help the little grin that was on his face after the offer. He hadn’t been entirely sure how he was going to make it to Egypt, though he had considered asking to tag along. It was great that the offer was extended before he could bring it up.
“Along with my hands to help share the work, I also offer stories of all manner of lands if you so wish. I have been near every where that one person can, I have many tales that you and your people might find interesting to hear.” He offered, he loved to tell his stories. Partially because he liked to be the center of attention, and partially because... well he just liked to brag about all the things he’d done in his short life time.
Hasani gave a knowing nod while Saro spoke about his time sailing upon the water. The salty water that Hasani himself had hardly touched, let along taken a boat across. He thought of Neena and how she had also taken a boat and how she had likely taken a boat once she had made it to Egypt and far from the tribe. Too far to make it back to them if she had ever thought to change her mind. She hadn’t, and Hasani found himself downtrodden at the thought that his own wife had not loved even him enough to stay. Then again, he wouldn’t have made her stay even if he had been adamant about her remaining. But she had always spoken about the water like it was magic, and the fact that boats could just glide across the waves with so little effort…
The sand was Hasani’s seas. Wandering the Sahara was not an easy feat and the life was harsh and dangerous. Sand was everywhere, but it could still cause its own pains. Sandstorms, chafing, burning, one could even down in the sands or fall off a dune and break their neck if they were not careful.
“Understand, Saro, that you will be more welcome among the Zaire than you realize,” Hasani conceded after a few moments, glancing to the other men who were not chatting among themselves in the tent. “My second wife was a wanderer. She had been so many places that I could not imagine. Our tribe values the stories and the experiences that you are so willing to share with us. Our children are curious, and our tribemates doubly so,” Hasani murmured in low Coptic, a smile settling on his lips. “You trade us stories and we will very gladly teach you of our culture and our lands,” he added, pausing for a moment. “We follow no gods. Instead, we believe in our own Ancestors. Bedoans who have passed onto the next life and guide us from the unseen realm.”
When Saro accepted Hasani’s offer to travel with him, he brightened up considerably and looked to his tribemates. “Young Saro here had decided he will travel with us to Egypt. Another pair of hands for work and for hunting,” Hasani said in fluent Bedoan. While a few seemed hesitant, all of them eventually gave excited nods and gave Saro proper greetings and welcomes to the Zaire.
“They welcome you,” Hasani said in Coptic back to Saro, giving him a calm smile. “But I am afraid your timeframe in which you will make it back to Egypt will be far more than a few weeks. It can take us a few months to nearly half a year to make it to the other side of the desert. We walk for usually an entire day and make camp for a week or two at a time to give everyone time to rest, hunt, prepare their crafts, and forage for food and supplies,” he explained calmly, his brows knitting together for a moment, “Will this be such a problem with you, Saro? We cannot rush for our elders are old and frail and our children too young to move for days on end,” he said lightly.
Saro spoke of sharing work, which pleased Hasani even more, his smile growing a little wider then. “I am sure the tribe will appreciate the extra set of hands, especially during hunts,” Hasani mused, “Have you ever hunted before, Saro? It is a long and tedious process on the desert sands, though I hear it is much easier in the Grecian kingdoms, though the prey is wholly different.”
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Hasani gave a knowing nod while Saro spoke about his time sailing upon the water. The salty water that Hasani himself had hardly touched, let along taken a boat across. He thought of Neena and how she had also taken a boat and how she had likely taken a boat once she had made it to Egypt and far from the tribe. Too far to make it back to them if she had ever thought to change her mind. She hadn’t, and Hasani found himself downtrodden at the thought that his own wife had not loved even him enough to stay. Then again, he wouldn’t have made her stay even if he had been adamant about her remaining. But she had always spoken about the water like it was magic, and the fact that boats could just glide across the waves with so little effort…
The sand was Hasani’s seas. Wandering the Sahara was not an easy feat and the life was harsh and dangerous. Sand was everywhere, but it could still cause its own pains. Sandstorms, chafing, burning, one could even down in the sands or fall off a dune and break their neck if they were not careful.
“Understand, Saro, that you will be more welcome among the Zaire than you realize,” Hasani conceded after a few moments, glancing to the other men who were not chatting among themselves in the tent. “My second wife was a wanderer. She had been so many places that I could not imagine. Our tribe values the stories and the experiences that you are so willing to share with us. Our children are curious, and our tribemates doubly so,” Hasani murmured in low Coptic, a smile settling on his lips. “You trade us stories and we will very gladly teach you of our culture and our lands,” he added, pausing for a moment. “We follow no gods. Instead, we believe in our own Ancestors. Bedoans who have passed onto the next life and guide us from the unseen realm.”
When Saro accepted Hasani’s offer to travel with him, he brightened up considerably and looked to his tribemates. “Young Saro here had decided he will travel with us to Egypt. Another pair of hands for work and for hunting,” Hasani said in fluent Bedoan. While a few seemed hesitant, all of them eventually gave excited nods and gave Saro proper greetings and welcomes to the Zaire.
“They welcome you,” Hasani said in Coptic back to Saro, giving him a calm smile. “But I am afraid your timeframe in which you will make it back to Egypt will be far more than a few weeks. It can take us a few months to nearly half a year to make it to the other side of the desert. We walk for usually an entire day and make camp for a week or two at a time to give everyone time to rest, hunt, prepare their crafts, and forage for food and supplies,” he explained calmly, his brows knitting together for a moment, “Will this be such a problem with you, Saro? We cannot rush for our elders are old and frail and our children too young to move for days on end,” he said lightly.
Saro spoke of sharing work, which pleased Hasani even more, his smile growing a little wider then. “I am sure the tribe will appreciate the extra set of hands, especially during hunts,” Hasani mused, “Have you ever hunted before, Saro? It is a long and tedious process on the desert sands, though I hear it is much easier in the Grecian kingdoms, though the prey is wholly different.”
Hasani gave a knowing nod while Saro spoke about his time sailing upon the water. The salty water that Hasani himself had hardly touched, let along taken a boat across. He thought of Neena and how she had also taken a boat and how she had likely taken a boat once she had made it to Egypt and far from the tribe. Too far to make it back to them if she had ever thought to change her mind. She hadn’t, and Hasani found himself downtrodden at the thought that his own wife had not loved even him enough to stay. Then again, he wouldn’t have made her stay even if he had been adamant about her remaining. But she had always spoken about the water like it was magic, and the fact that boats could just glide across the waves with so little effort…
The sand was Hasani’s seas. Wandering the Sahara was not an easy feat and the life was harsh and dangerous. Sand was everywhere, but it could still cause its own pains. Sandstorms, chafing, burning, one could even down in the sands or fall off a dune and break their neck if they were not careful.
“Understand, Saro, that you will be more welcome among the Zaire than you realize,” Hasani conceded after a few moments, glancing to the other men who were not chatting among themselves in the tent. “My second wife was a wanderer. She had been so many places that I could not imagine. Our tribe values the stories and the experiences that you are so willing to share with us. Our children are curious, and our tribemates doubly so,” Hasani murmured in low Coptic, a smile settling on his lips. “You trade us stories and we will very gladly teach you of our culture and our lands,” he added, pausing for a moment. “We follow no gods. Instead, we believe in our own Ancestors. Bedoans who have passed onto the next life and guide us from the unseen realm.”
When Saro accepted Hasani’s offer to travel with him, he brightened up considerably and looked to his tribemates. “Young Saro here had decided he will travel with us to Egypt. Another pair of hands for work and for hunting,” Hasani said in fluent Bedoan. While a few seemed hesitant, all of them eventually gave excited nods and gave Saro proper greetings and welcomes to the Zaire.
“They welcome you,” Hasani said in Coptic back to Saro, giving him a calm smile. “But I am afraid your timeframe in which you will make it back to Egypt will be far more than a few weeks. It can take us a few months to nearly half a year to make it to the other side of the desert. We walk for usually an entire day and make camp for a week or two at a time to give everyone time to rest, hunt, prepare their crafts, and forage for food and supplies,” he explained calmly, his brows knitting together for a moment, “Will this be such a problem with you, Saro? We cannot rush for our elders are old and frail and our children too young to move for days on end,” he said lightly.
Saro spoke of sharing work, which pleased Hasani even more, his smile growing a little wider then. “I am sure the tribe will appreciate the extra set of hands, especially during hunts,” Hasani mused, “Have you ever hunted before, Saro? It is a long and tedious process on the desert sands, though I hear it is much easier in the Grecian kingdoms, though the prey is wholly different.”
Saro smiled, he liked that, they seemed to put just as much stock in stories of far away lands as he did. One of his favourite things was telling his stories, something he did not often get to do. The crew he sailed with had been the same places he had, and most people he met with were interested in either sex, drinks or his money, none interested in his stories. So this was a nice change of pace for him, to know that his stories would be truly enjoyed and not just listened to in order to get something else out of him.
He had no idea what the other said in his own language, but the men in the tent seemed to react well so he assumed it couldn’t have been a bad thing. He gave them all a friendly smile, unsure of what to do since he couldn’t exactly speak with any of them.
“Half a year?” He said, his eyebrows raising in surprise. He definitely hadn’t planned on taking quite so long to make it to Egypt. He would need to figure out how to get a message to his crew, to let them know he would be delayed so they did not think him dead when he didn’t show up in the agreed upon time frame.
“It should not be a problem, I have no where I need to be. I will need to find a way to send a message, to my parents and the rest of the crew on our ship. If I do not show up in Egypt when we agreed to meet back up, they may consider me dead and never return for me.” He said with a little laugh. If Hasani did not have a way to get a message to at least Egypt, Saro would figure something out himself. If he left a missive in Cairo for them, he was sure the crew would get it when the swung around to resupply.
“I do not have much experience hunting. I went once when I was a young boy, but not before or after that. We tend to purchase our food, and I know how to fish. Neither of those skills will carry through to the desert sands.” Saro said with a little laugh. He would learn, he was sure. Especially if he was spending such a long time travelling with them.
“I am happy to learn though, in order to pitch in my share of the work. I will do what ever is needed of me. Besides, new skills are always a good thing to learn.” The pirate said, he was a rather optimistic person for the most part, and he saw no reason he couldn’t learn to hunt alongside the Bedoans.
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Saro smiled, he liked that, they seemed to put just as much stock in stories of far away lands as he did. One of his favourite things was telling his stories, something he did not often get to do. The crew he sailed with had been the same places he had, and most people he met with were interested in either sex, drinks or his money, none interested in his stories. So this was a nice change of pace for him, to know that his stories would be truly enjoyed and not just listened to in order to get something else out of him.
He had no idea what the other said in his own language, but the men in the tent seemed to react well so he assumed it couldn’t have been a bad thing. He gave them all a friendly smile, unsure of what to do since he couldn’t exactly speak with any of them.
“Half a year?” He said, his eyebrows raising in surprise. He definitely hadn’t planned on taking quite so long to make it to Egypt. He would need to figure out how to get a message to his crew, to let them know he would be delayed so they did not think him dead when he didn’t show up in the agreed upon time frame.
“It should not be a problem, I have no where I need to be. I will need to find a way to send a message, to my parents and the rest of the crew on our ship. If I do not show up in Egypt when we agreed to meet back up, they may consider me dead and never return for me.” He said with a little laugh. If Hasani did not have a way to get a message to at least Egypt, Saro would figure something out himself. If he left a missive in Cairo for them, he was sure the crew would get it when the swung around to resupply.
“I do not have much experience hunting. I went once when I was a young boy, but not before or after that. We tend to purchase our food, and I know how to fish. Neither of those skills will carry through to the desert sands.” Saro said with a little laugh. He would learn, he was sure. Especially if he was spending such a long time travelling with them.
“I am happy to learn though, in order to pitch in my share of the work. I will do what ever is needed of me. Besides, new skills are always a good thing to learn.” The pirate said, he was a rather optimistic person for the most part, and he saw no reason he couldn’t learn to hunt alongside the Bedoans.
Saro smiled, he liked that, they seemed to put just as much stock in stories of far away lands as he did. One of his favourite things was telling his stories, something he did not often get to do. The crew he sailed with had been the same places he had, and most people he met with were interested in either sex, drinks or his money, none interested in his stories. So this was a nice change of pace for him, to know that his stories would be truly enjoyed and not just listened to in order to get something else out of him.
He had no idea what the other said in his own language, but the men in the tent seemed to react well so he assumed it couldn’t have been a bad thing. He gave them all a friendly smile, unsure of what to do since he couldn’t exactly speak with any of them.
“Half a year?” He said, his eyebrows raising in surprise. He definitely hadn’t planned on taking quite so long to make it to Egypt. He would need to figure out how to get a message to his crew, to let them know he would be delayed so they did not think him dead when he didn’t show up in the agreed upon time frame.
“It should not be a problem, I have no where I need to be. I will need to find a way to send a message, to my parents and the rest of the crew on our ship. If I do not show up in Egypt when we agreed to meet back up, they may consider me dead and never return for me.” He said with a little laugh. If Hasani did not have a way to get a message to at least Egypt, Saro would figure something out himself. If he left a missive in Cairo for them, he was sure the crew would get it when the swung around to resupply.
“I do not have much experience hunting. I went once when I was a young boy, but not before or after that. We tend to purchase our food, and I know how to fish. Neither of those skills will carry through to the desert sands.” Saro said with a little laugh. He would learn, he was sure. Especially if he was spending such a long time travelling with them.
“I am happy to learn though, in order to pitch in my share of the work. I will do what ever is needed of me. Besides, new skills are always a good thing to learn.” The pirate said, he was a rather optimistic person for the most part, and he saw no reason he couldn’t learn to hunt alongside the Bedoans.
"Sadly, yes," Hasani said with a small smile toward his new friend. Friend. Already, Saro was considered a friend. While Saro and the tribe may not have gotten off on the right foot initially, within a span of a few hours, they had had no reason to doubt the man. He was well-spoken and posed absolutely no threat to any of the tribe, an assertion he had made a few times. Hasani was doubly sure that if Saro did intend to cause trouble, Saro understood that he would be severely outmatched and there would be no escape.
But they would not allow that notion to hang over their heads. Not when there were much calmer and more amicable things to speak about between the two men.
"It may take less, it may take more," Hasani admitted, "It depends on what happens while we walk the sands. The sands are ever-changing and we constantly find ourselves pulled in different directions. Day by day, week by week," Hasani nodded sagely. "We can send a small convoy to take your message to Egypt, but I would struggle to send you along for you are not experienced on the back of a camel, nor do you know your way across the desert should you lose your way," Hasani said lightly, his brows furrowing a little. "Nor can I spare the camel," he added with a bit of a smile.
Hasani sought to joke with Saro a little bit then, "That is fine. Should you like it here within the tribe, there is nothing saying you cannot just stay with us if your friends think you dead," he grinned, shrugging and shaking his head. "Though, I jest. I will try to make sure you return to Egypt in one piece and with much more knowledge of our people than you currently have. If you share your stories, we will share ours. I'm sure someone would even be willing to teach you our language. My wife, perhaps?" he mused.
Hasani nodded and listened through Saro's assertion that he did not know how to hunt, though he was willing to learn. This pleased Hasani. The willingness to learn and to work beside them despite knowing nothing of their culture would make Saro very popular within the tribe, and quickly at that. Besides, many of the young, unmarried women would likely take to him with the idea that they might be able to encourage him to stay. A man like Saro, however, Hasani was sure would not stay still for long. Just as Neena hadn't.
He shut that thought out.
Clearing his throat and taking in a slow breath against the harshness of the bathing tent's heat, "I will be pleased to teach you to hunt. It is a liberating experience when you kill your first lion or take your first antelope back to the tribe. We will ensure that you are comfortable in your own tent and will carry your things with my own. The sands are not comfortable, so we shall also outfit you with pillows and mats to sleep on," the leier noted lightly. He and his wife had many to spare and to spare from for such a likable guest would be no issue whatsoever. "Your willingness to learn is admirable," Hasani commented, "Tell me. is there anything you want to know now? What are you curious about? We are not always a welcoming people, but I will ensure you learn everything you wish from us."
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"Sadly, yes," Hasani said with a small smile toward his new friend. Friend. Already, Saro was considered a friend. While Saro and the tribe may not have gotten off on the right foot initially, within a span of a few hours, they had had no reason to doubt the man. He was well-spoken and posed absolutely no threat to any of the tribe, an assertion he had made a few times. Hasani was doubly sure that if Saro did intend to cause trouble, Saro understood that he would be severely outmatched and there would be no escape.
But they would not allow that notion to hang over their heads. Not when there were much calmer and more amicable things to speak about between the two men.
"It may take less, it may take more," Hasani admitted, "It depends on what happens while we walk the sands. The sands are ever-changing and we constantly find ourselves pulled in different directions. Day by day, week by week," Hasani nodded sagely. "We can send a small convoy to take your message to Egypt, but I would struggle to send you along for you are not experienced on the back of a camel, nor do you know your way across the desert should you lose your way," Hasani said lightly, his brows furrowing a little. "Nor can I spare the camel," he added with a bit of a smile.
Hasani sought to joke with Saro a little bit then, "That is fine. Should you like it here within the tribe, there is nothing saying you cannot just stay with us if your friends think you dead," he grinned, shrugging and shaking his head. "Though, I jest. I will try to make sure you return to Egypt in one piece and with much more knowledge of our people than you currently have. If you share your stories, we will share ours. I'm sure someone would even be willing to teach you our language. My wife, perhaps?" he mused.
Hasani nodded and listened through Saro's assertion that he did not know how to hunt, though he was willing to learn. This pleased Hasani. The willingness to learn and to work beside them despite knowing nothing of their culture would make Saro very popular within the tribe, and quickly at that. Besides, many of the young, unmarried women would likely take to him with the idea that they might be able to encourage him to stay. A man like Saro, however, Hasani was sure would not stay still for long. Just as Neena hadn't.
He shut that thought out.
Clearing his throat and taking in a slow breath against the harshness of the bathing tent's heat, "I will be pleased to teach you to hunt. It is a liberating experience when you kill your first lion or take your first antelope back to the tribe. We will ensure that you are comfortable in your own tent and will carry your things with my own. The sands are not comfortable, so we shall also outfit you with pillows and mats to sleep on," the leier noted lightly. He and his wife had many to spare and to spare from for such a likable guest would be no issue whatsoever. "Your willingness to learn is admirable," Hasani commented, "Tell me. is there anything you want to know now? What are you curious about? We are not always a welcoming people, but I will ensure you learn everything you wish from us."
"Sadly, yes," Hasani said with a small smile toward his new friend. Friend. Already, Saro was considered a friend. While Saro and the tribe may not have gotten off on the right foot initially, within a span of a few hours, they had had no reason to doubt the man. He was well-spoken and posed absolutely no threat to any of the tribe, an assertion he had made a few times. Hasani was doubly sure that if Saro did intend to cause trouble, Saro understood that he would be severely outmatched and there would be no escape.
But they would not allow that notion to hang over their heads. Not when there were much calmer and more amicable things to speak about between the two men.
"It may take less, it may take more," Hasani admitted, "It depends on what happens while we walk the sands. The sands are ever-changing and we constantly find ourselves pulled in different directions. Day by day, week by week," Hasani nodded sagely. "We can send a small convoy to take your message to Egypt, but I would struggle to send you along for you are not experienced on the back of a camel, nor do you know your way across the desert should you lose your way," Hasani said lightly, his brows furrowing a little. "Nor can I spare the camel," he added with a bit of a smile.
Hasani sought to joke with Saro a little bit then, "That is fine. Should you like it here within the tribe, there is nothing saying you cannot just stay with us if your friends think you dead," he grinned, shrugging and shaking his head. "Though, I jest. I will try to make sure you return to Egypt in one piece and with much more knowledge of our people than you currently have. If you share your stories, we will share ours. I'm sure someone would even be willing to teach you our language. My wife, perhaps?" he mused.
Hasani nodded and listened through Saro's assertion that he did not know how to hunt, though he was willing to learn. This pleased Hasani. The willingness to learn and to work beside them despite knowing nothing of their culture would make Saro very popular within the tribe, and quickly at that. Besides, many of the young, unmarried women would likely take to him with the idea that they might be able to encourage him to stay. A man like Saro, however, Hasani was sure would not stay still for long. Just as Neena hadn't.
He shut that thought out.
Clearing his throat and taking in a slow breath against the harshness of the bathing tent's heat, "I will be pleased to teach you to hunt. It is a liberating experience when you kill your first lion or take your first antelope back to the tribe. We will ensure that you are comfortable in your own tent and will carry your things with my own. The sands are not comfortable, so we shall also outfit you with pillows and mats to sleep on," the leier noted lightly. He and his wife had many to spare and to spare from for such a likable guest would be no issue whatsoever. "Your willingness to learn is admirable," Hasani commented, "Tell me. is there anything you want to know now? What are you curious about? We are not always a welcoming people, but I will ensure you learn everything you wish from us."
Mwenye sat quietly in the smoky air of the bathing tent, letting th chatter of the other men was over him without catching his attention. Instead he listened with more than half an ear to the conversation between Saro and Hasani. The leier had mentioned once or twice that he spoke coptic, but they had not been properly introduced, and Mwenye was not sure the stranger actually knew who he was - and for now he was quite content with that.
Of course his friend was indulging his love of tales of foreign lands, and if the prophet was a bit more suspicious than the leier, he at least agreed that vastly outnumbered and hardly armed as he was, the stranger was no real danger to anyone in their camp at the moment. The fact that Saro seemed so eager to learn about them had the younger bedoan feeling cautious, since he couldn't think of a reason to have come here for that purpose alone, rather than seeking them out at their more common trading places on their eastern border. The fact he seemed to have no idea how long it took to travel the width of the sands suggested, however, that he might simply be an impulsive idiot, rather than it being some form of obscure scheme to spy on them for some reason, so he let it be.
"If you want me to take that message, tell me today," he told Hasani in their own tongue. He was, after all, one of the more experienced members of their tribe when it came to traveling alone. "I was thinking of breeding my camel to one of the Rwandan racers, since we are all here together." He had traded away his camel's previous two foals, but he was getting to the point in his life where accruing a bit more wealth seemed wise, and his his sweet mare was so solid and reliable, there seemed some benefit in her next foal's sire having a bit more spunk - and there seemed little point in paying another tribe for the service immediately before pushing her on a long, hard ride.
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Mwenye sat quietly in the smoky air of the bathing tent, letting th chatter of the other men was over him without catching his attention. Instead he listened with more than half an ear to the conversation between Saro and Hasani. The leier had mentioned once or twice that he spoke coptic, but they had not been properly introduced, and Mwenye was not sure the stranger actually knew who he was - and for now he was quite content with that.
Of course his friend was indulging his love of tales of foreign lands, and if the prophet was a bit more suspicious than the leier, he at least agreed that vastly outnumbered and hardly armed as he was, the stranger was no real danger to anyone in their camp at the moment. The fact that Saro seemed so eager to learn about them had the younger bedoan feeling cautious, since he couldn't think of a reason to have come here for that purpose alone, rather than seeking them out at their more common trading places on their eastern border. The fact he seemed to have no idea how long it took to travel the width of the sands suggested, however, that he might simply be an impulsive idiot, rather than it being some form of obscure scheme to spy on them for some reason, so he let it be.
"If you want me to take that message, tell me today," he told Hasani in their own tongue. He was, after all, one of the more experienced members of their tribe when it came to traveling alone. "I was thinking of breeding my camel to one of the Rwandan racers, since we are all here together." He had traded away his camel's previous two foals, but he was getting to the point in his life where accruing a bit more wealth seemed wise, and his his sweet mare was so solid and reliable, there seemed some benefit in her next foal's sire having a bit more spunk - and there seemed little point in paying another tribe for the service immediately before pushing her on a long, hard ride.
Mwenye sat quietly in the smoky air of the bathing tent, letting th chatter of the other men was over him without catching his attention. Instead he listened with more than half an ear to the conversation between Saro and Hasani. The leier had mentioned once or twice that he spoke coptic, but they had not been properly introduced, and Mwenye was not sure the stranger actually knew who he was - and for now he was quite content with that.
Of course his friend was indulging his love of tales of foreign lands, and if the prophet was a bit more suspicious than the leier, he at least agreed that vastly outnumbered and hardly armed as he was, the stranger was no real danger to anyone in their camp at the moment. The fact that Saro seemed so eager to learn about them had the younger bedoan feeling cautious, since he couldn't think of a reason to have come here for that purpose alone, rather than seeking them out at their more common trading places on their eastern border. The fact he seemed to have no idea how long it took to travel the width of the sands suggested, however, that he might simply be an impulsive idiot, rather than it being some form of obscure scheme to spy on them for some reason, so he let it be.
"If you want me to take that message, tell me today," he told Hasani in their own tongue. He was, after all, one of the more experienced members of their tribe when it came to traveling alone. "I was thinking of breeding my camel to one of the Rwandan racers, since we are all here together." He had traded away his camel's previous two foals, but he was getting to the point in his life where accruing a bit more wealth seemed wise, and his his sweet mare was so solid and reliable, there seemed some benefit in her next foal's sire having a bit more spunk - and there seemed little point in paying another tribe for the service immediately before pushing her on a long, hard ride.
“A convoy would be enough, if it is not too much trouble. I have coin, or jewelry to pay for such a thing, as I do not expect to be handed things for free. I can write a letter, and if it is seen to Egypt and the ports of Cairo, there is a man there who will ensure my mother and father receive it upon their arrival.” He said, thankful that Hasani seemed so willing to help him out, he knew that sending people out to hurry their way to Egypt was probably no easy task, and Saro fully intended to trade what he could or pay in coin for the service.
Saro couldn’t help but laugh at Hasani’s next comment, the more they talked the more he enjoyed the company of the other male. He was good-natured and friendly, and easy to get along with. So far, Saro was enjoying his time among these people.
“I may just take you up on that offer. Trade my life on the seas for a life on the sands.” He joked right back, though he was enjoying his time thus far, he knew that he would not last forever on the sands. The sea called to him, beckoned to him like the most intoxicating lover. This would be the longest he would be away from the waters, and he wasn’t sure how it was going to feel, but he at least knew that at the end of it, he would return to her salty embrace and his life of theft and indulgence.
“Once I learn more of your language and can communicate with others beyond you, I would be happy to share my stories with any who are willing to listen.” He agreed, making note to find out of Hasani’s wife would be willing to teach him their language.
“If she is willing, so am I. She seemed almost as friendly as you, though perhaps that was just part of the confusion we had.” He said with a small laugh, shaking his head a little at the fresh memory of their first encounter. He couldn’t remember being so thankful to find someone who spoke a shared language with him. Who knew how his interaction with Tanishe would have gone had someone not spoken Coptic. He didn’t imagine the confusion would have lessened,
Saro looked over at Hasani quickly, an excited look on his face.
“Kill a lion?” He asked, unable to help the joy that seeped into his tone. He hadn’t realized that was something he would be able to do while here, but the prospect made his heart race. He couldn’t imagine hunting such a powerful beast, coming out as the dominant animal. He was even more excited now and was confident in his decision to come to Bedoa as a good one.
Saro shrugged a little as Hasani asked him if there was anything he wanted to know now.
“There is much I wish to know, but I do not want to flood you with questions. I will learn as things come up, I find that I learn more that way, by doing and experiencing rather than just listening to words.” He said, not sure if Hasani would understand what he meant entirely.
He paused in his conversation as one of the other men spoke, but not in a language he knew, he fell silent, allowing Hasani to answer the other man without interruption from the pirate who sat in their midst.
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“A convoy would be enough, if it is not too much trouble. I have coin, or jewelry to pay for such a thing, as I do not expect to be handed things for free. I can write a letter, and if it is seen to Egypt and the ports of Cairo, there is a man there who will ensure my mother and father receive it upon their arrival.” He said, thankful that Hasani seemed so willing to help him out, he knew that sending people out to hurry their way to Egypt was probably no easy task, and Saro fully intended to trade what he could or pay in coin for the service.
Saro couldn’t help but laugh at Hasani’s next comment, the more they talked the more he enjoyed the company of the other male. He was good-natured and friendly, and easy to get along with. So far, Saro was enjoying his time among these people.
“I may just take you up on that offer. Trade my life on the seas for a life on the sands.” He joked right back, though he was enjoying his time thus far, he knew that he would not last forever on the sands. The sea called to him, beckoned to him like the most intoxicating lover. This would be the longest he would be away from the waters, and he wasn’t sure how it was going to feel, but he at least knew that at the end of it, he would return to her salty embrace and his life of theft and indulgence.
“Once I learn more of your language and can communicate with others beyond you, I would be happy to share my stories with any who are willing to listen.” He agreed, making note to find out of Hasani’s wife would be willing to teach him their language.
“If she is willing, so am I. She seemed almost as friendly as you, though perhaps that was just part of the confusion we had.” He said with a small laugh, shaking his head a little at the fresh memory of their first encounter. He couldn’t remember being so thankful to find someone who spoke a shared language with him. Who knew how his interaction with Tanishe would have gone had someone not spoken Coptic. He didn’t imagine the confusion would have lessened,
Saro looked over at Hasani quickly, an excited look on his face.
“Kill a lion?” He asked, unable to help the joy that seeped into his tone. He hadn’t realized that was something he would be able to do while here, but the prospect made his heart race. He couldn’t imagine hunting such a powerful beast, coming out as the dominant animal. He was even more excited now and was confident in his decision to come to Bedoa as a good one.
Saro shrugged a little as Hasani asked him if there was anything he wanted to know now.
“There is much I wish to know, but I do not want to flood you with questions. I will learn as things come up, I find that I learn more that way, by doing and experiencing rather than just listening to words.” He said, not sure if Hasani would understand what he meant entirely.
He paused in his conversation as one of the other men spoke, but not in a language he knew, he fell silent, allowing Hasani to answer the other man without interruption from the pirate who sat in their midst.
“A convoy would be enough, if it is not too much trouble. I have coin, or jewelry to pay for such a thing, as I do not expect to be handed things for free. I can write a letter, and if it is seen to Egypt and the ports of Cairo, there is a man there who will ensure my mother and father receive it upon their arrival.” He said, thankful that Hasani seemed so willing to help him out, he knew that sending people out to hurry their way to Egypt was probably no easy task, and Saro fully intended to trade what he could or pay in coin for the service.
Saro couldn’t help but laugh at Hasani’s next comment, the more they talked the more he enjoyed the company of the other male. He was good-natured and friendly, and easy to get along with. So far, Saro was enjoying his time among these people.
“I may just take you up on that offer. Trade my life on the seas for a life on the sands.” He joked right back, though he was enjoying his time thus far, he knew that he would not last forever on the sands. The sea called to him, beckoned to him like the most intoxicating lover. This would be the longest he would be away from the waters, and he wasn’t sure how it was going to feel, but he at least knew that at the end of it, he would return to her salty embrace and his life of theft and indulgence.
“Once I learn more of your language and can communicate with others beyond you, I would be happy to share my stories with any who are willing to listen.” He agreed, making note to find out of Hasani’s wife would be willing to teach him their language.
“If she is willing, so am I. She seemed almost as friendly as you, though perhaps that was just part of the confusion we had.” He said with a small laugh, shaking his head a little at the fresh memory of their first encounter. He couldn’t remember being so thankful to find someone who spoke a shared language with him. Who knew how his interaction with Tanishe would have gone had someone not spoken Coptic. He didn’t imagine the confusion would have lessened,
Saro looked over at Hasani quickly, an excited look on his face.
“Kill a lion?” He asked, unable to help the joy that seeped into his tone. He hadn’t realized that was something he would be able to do while here, but the prospect made his heart race. He couldn’t imagine hunting such a powerful beast, coming out as the dominant animal. He was even more excited now and was confident in his decision to come to Bedoa as a good one.
Saro shrugged a little as Hasani asked him if there was anything he wanted to know now.
“There is much I wish to know, but I do not want to flood you with questions. I will learn as things come up, I find that I learn more that way, by doing and experiencing rather than just listening to words.” He said, not sure if Hasani would understand what he meant entirely.
He paused in his conversation as one of the other men spoke, but not in a language he knew, he fell silent, allowing Hasani to answer the other man without interruption from the pirate who sat in their midst.