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He's all and he is more.	By : DarklingWillow Category: M through R > The Old Guard Views: 776 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Old Guard movie (or comics), and I do not make any profit from this writing.

Chapter List
- 10
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- 12
Chapter 10.

            When morning came Yusuf and Nicolò awoke to a small audience peeking around the curtain before their door. The children giggled brightly and squeaked in excitement when Yusuf stood up to dress, but when they saw that he was one of their own, their excitement waned. Yusuf laughed at them, but told Nicolò to get up and get dressed, then he left the small room.
            Nicolò felt his cheeks flushing pink when he pulled the blanket off and stood up, and the grandchildren of their host let out a collective squeal of delight, and then babbled fast and furious in high pitched voices as they jostled for position to peek beyond the curtain. He was painfully aware of their little faces as he put on his Arabic trousers, which he was still learning how to properly manage, and when he turned to exit the small room, the curtain fluttered in the trail of little bodies running away from him.

            Yusuf and their host, and the oldest of the boys were already sitting by the low table, enjoying a breakfast served by the three women, but the little children were milling around the room. Two of the little boys had settled down on either side of Yusuf and stared up at him with great awe on their faces as they ate. The girls on the other hand crowded around their mothers and grandmother and babbled breathlessly about these two strangers in their home.
            Yusuf pointed Nicolò to sit next to him, and the older of the daughters in law brought him a bowl to wash his hands before he began to eat. Yusuf quietly told Nicolò what was on offer, and how he should eat the food, and Nicolò smiled thankfully at their host, as he told Nicolò to enjoy his meal in Arabic.

            Nicolò had just begun eating his food when the youngest of the children, a girl of maybe two or three years, stood up and walked over to him, her dark eyes round in her cherubic face. Without any fear she leaned in and grabbed his hair and examined it closely. Then she stepped even closer and one chubby hand grabbed Nicolò’s bearded cheek and made him look at her. Then she grabbed his eyebrow and peered into his eye, speaking in her toddler babble.
            “She thinks your eyes are strange,” Yusuf said in Latin, after their host had translated for him. “She’s never seen eyes like yours. I think she likes you,” Yusuf continued with a laugh when the little girl patted Nicolò on the cheek and then turned around to sit on his knee.
            “I don’t know what to do,” Nicolò exclaimed, and Yusuf laughed again. “Is this appropriate?” he asked and looked to their host for help.
            “It’s fine,” their host said in Arabic, and smiled. “She’s just a baby still. I think she wants to keep you.”
            Yusuf burst out laughing and reached out to stroke the little girl’s head as he translated for Nicolò.
            “They are fearless at this age,” Yusuf said in Latin, then repeated himself to their host.
            “Her name is Farrah,” the old man said in Arabic, and Nicolò nodded his head with a smile.
            “That is a beautiful name,” he said and looked down at the little girl. “Hello, Farrah,” he said, then put his hand on his chest like Yusuf had done when he had introduced himself to Nicolò that fateful day. “I’m Nicolò,” he said and smiled at her.
            “Fawwah,” she answered, then tilted her head to the side and put her hand on Nicolò’s chest and babbled something in her sweet little voice. The two daughters in law burst out laughing and their host’s wife shushed them with an amused smile on her face.
            Nicolò looked to Yusuf and the old man, and they shared a laugh before Yusuf turned to Nicolò and told him with a bright laugh,
            “She called you silly because you can’t talk. You don’t know their language, so you don’t understand her. Therefore, she thinks you are silly.”

            Nicolò could not help but smile at that, and looked down at the little girl, giving her a sweet look.
            “Oh, so you think I’m silly?” he said, in Latin, so Yusuf would understand him. “Well, I guess you will just have to teach me then.” Then Nicolò reached out and grabbed his cup off the table and held it up to show the girl. “Cup,” he said in his own Genovese vernacular, and Farrah blinked her wide brown eyes at him.
            “Cup,” Nicolò repeated, and Yusuf pointed at the cup in his hand, and said to the little girl a word in Arabic.
            Farrah looked at Yusuf and blinked at him as well, then nodded her head at him, pointed to the cup, and repeated a word that sounded a lot like the word Yusuf had said.
            “Say it again, in your language,” Yusuf said and waved a hand at Nicolò, and Nicolò repeated himself.
            Farrah looked up at him with an astounded look, and then stood up, loudly babbling something that made all the adults in the room and the older kids laugh.
            “She is complaining that you do not know how to talk,” Yusuf translated to Nicolò and patted him on the shoulder. “Now eat, while you have a chance, before she decides she likes you despite you not knowing how to talk.”
            Nicolò gave the sweet girl a bright smile but did as he was told and dug into the food, managing most of the meal before Farrah was back at his side, exploring his hair and his ears.

            When the meal was over the women and the girls cleared the table, while their host, who had introduced himself as Mu’tasim, invited them to come outside with him.
            He walked with them around the village, and with Yusuf as interpreter, he told them a little about how they made their living there, and that about half the men of the village went to fish every day, while the other half stayed at home and tended to the livestock and their small plot of arable land.
            It did not take them long to realize that Nicolò had gained a shadow the moment they had left Mu’tasim’s house. Three of the youngest children had followed tight on their heels, and now a fourth had joined the group, and Farrah was toddling by Nicolò’s side, one hand reaching up to grab his hand.

            Mu’tasim assured Nicolò and Yusuf that it was fine, she was after all only a toddler, and the other children were curious about this stranger from the North who did not look like them. Once Yusuf had reassured Nicolò that interacting with the children was not considered in any way inappropriate for him, Nicolò had to divide his attention between the four children and Mu’tasim, and the children won over more often.
            Once they had made their way around the small village, and the children had dragged Nicolò back and forth to show him absolutely everything, Yusuf came to Nicolò and pulled him aside, although pulling him away from Farrah proved impossible.

            “Mu’tasim has asked me to join the men when they go fishing, and I think I should go, to repay our host for his generosity. Do you want to come with us?” Yusuf asked in Latin, and Nicolò looked down at the little girl who was holding onto his hand.
            “I don’t know if I can,” Nicolò said, and Yusuf smiled.
            “She really likes you,” he said and reached down to pat Farrah’s hair. “Maybe you can help around the village, while I go fish?”
            “Do you think it is safe? I am worried they might sell us into the hands of the Arab armies, or they’ll betray us in some way,” Nicolò admitted, and looked into Yusuf’s eyes.
            “I trust them,” Yusuf said firmly, and put his hand on Nicolò’s shoulder. “There is a young man here who speaks Arabic, and knows a little Latin, so he can help you, and show you what needs to be done. He knows that you do not speak Arabic, so he offered to have you help him.”
            “Alright, be safe, and come back safely,” Nicolò said, and Yusuf smiled as he pulled Nicolò closer, and rested his forehead against Nicolò’s forehead.
            “I will be safe. And you be safe as well. I will see you at dusk,” he said and squeezed Nicolò’s shoulder quickly. Then he turned to bow his head at a young man who had joined Mu’tasim and introduced him to Nicolò.

            Nicolò found the young man easy company, and he was very patient with Nicolò despite them hardly being able to communicate. Nicolò helped with the small crop that was growing on the arable land, he helped with tending to his and Yusuf’s horses and the camels that the villagers owned, and he helped with hauling water to the village from the nearby oasis.
            The whole time he was at the village though, Farrah’s mother kept coming around to get her daughter, only for Farrah to come toddling down the street a little while later, to continue her shadowing of Nicolò. The other children, and more from the village, also followed Nicolò around, and once the water had been brought, he found himself overwhelmed by a wave of little children, who dragged him over to the square, and made him sit down so they could explore him properly.
            Farrah conducted the inspections with a firm hand, yet Nicolò had many small hands tugging on his hair and pulling up his eyebrows to look at his eyes, and many bright voices exclaiming in wonder as they compared their little brown hands to Nicolò’s large, sword worn hands.
            When dusk finally fell Yusuf found Nicolò sitting outside Mu’tasim’s house with Farrah asleep on his lap, and the other three youngest children sitting around him as he drew simple pictures in the sand. He told them what those drawings were in his Genovese vernacular, and the children taught him how to say those same things in their own language.

             “You have been busy, I see,” Yusuf said with a cheeky grin, and Nicolò laughed.
            “I have been seized. They have not left my side all day. Farrah cried when I rode out to get the water with Munir. Her mother had to come get her or she would have tried to follow us to the oasis,” Nicolò said and pointed at the sleeping girl on his lap. “I don’t think she will be happy when we leave.”
            “I don’t think she will,” Yusuf agreed, and stepped aside as Farrah’s mother appeared in the doorway. With a few quick gestures she and Nicolò communicated without words, and Nicolò carefully lifted Farrah from his lap into her mother’s arms.
            Nicolò stood up and smiled at Yusuf.
            “Today was educational. Munir really tried to talk to me as much as he could, and we worked well together. I learned a few words also,” he said, and Yusuf threw one arm around his shoulders.
            “You’ll have to teach me those words, since they speak a dialect here that I do not speak. But now, let’s go inside and eat dinner. Tomorrow you will come with us to fish,” he said, and they stepped inside the house to join the family for dinner.

            The next few days went by in much the same manner.
            The first day, Nicolò was able to steal away with Yusuf and the other men to go fishing. He enjoyed the company of the other men, despite not being able to understand them most of the time. Yusuf was always happy to play interpreter, and even tried to teach Nicolò some Arabic.
            But as soon as Nicolò returned to the village, there was little Farrah, ready to take charge of her new conquest, and the women of the village were delighted to watch Nicolò being commanded around by the little girl. And every other day after that, Farrah would wake up early enough to sit on her bounty, and the fishermen would leave Nicolò behind at the village, while Yusuf went with them to fish.
            Nicolò did enjoy the company of the children, for he found them the best teachers to learn new words from, and their unbridled joy when he would sit down and let them explore his lighter hair and his light eyes delighted him.

            The new moon had come and gone again when one night Nicolò and Yusuf settled down on their sleep mats in their little side room, and Yusuf lay on his side to look at Nicolò.
            “Mu’tasim says that the traders will be here soon. He is talking about giving us payment for our work and seeing us off with what we need for the journey. I told him we do not need payment, but he insisted and said that the village elders have already agreed on it. But he says we must leave with the traders,” Yusuf said, and reached out a hand to stroke Nicolò’s arm.

            Nicolò felt a thrill run through his body at the touch, and that deep longing that always surfaced when Yusuf touched him. He turned his head to look at Yusuf, admiring the way he looked in the soft light of the little oil lamp.
            “I think we should go,” Nicolò said and put his arm under his head as he turned on his side to face Yusuf. “There have been no news from the war, but something tells me we should leave. Also, the sage woman told us to go with the traders. That we need to go East. I think we should heed her words.”
            “We should,” Yusuf agreed and moved under Nicolò’s blanket, his naked leg sliding over Nicolò’s leg, his chest warm through the thin muslin undertunic he wore.
            Nicolò lifted his chin, waiting for the kiss he knew would follow, and when it came, he sighed softly into Yusuf’s beard. He moved his arm to let Yusuf’s arm under his head, and then lay down on Yusuf’s shoulder.
            “Our lives are forfeit if the Arab army returns and finds us here,” Nicolò whispered into the soft beard, and Yusuf nodded.
            “They are, I know. We will go when the traders come. You will have to leave Farrah behind, though,” Yusuf said, a teasing tone entering his voice.
            “Yusuf!” Nicolò hissed and moved his head to look at Yusuf’s mischievous face. “She’s two, you horrible man.”
            “I once knew a girl who was promised to her husband when they were both two,” Yusuf said with a shrug of his shoulder. “It’s not that uncommon.”
            “Well, I’m not marrying her. I’m way too old for her. Plus, she’s kind of lost interest in me, anyway. She thinks you’re much more interesting now, since you let her ride on your shoulders,” Nicolò answered, and slapped Yusuf on the chest, making the other man laugh.
            “She has not. She just likes that I am a little taller than you. You are still her Silly.”
            “You are not taller than me,” Nicolò objected, but Yusuf turned his head and smothered the objection with a kiss, his pearly teeth nibbling lightly on Nicolò’s lower lip.
            “It will be nice, though,” Yusuf whispered, and pulled Nicolò closer to his side.
            “What will be nice?”
            “To have you all to myself again. To be able to sleep in our little tent again, with no audience just outside the curtain,” Yusuf said and craned his neck to look at the curtain that covered their door.
            “The kids have all gone to sleep, and Farrah’s mother promised to keep her in their room tonight,” Nicolò said with a laugh, and Yusuf made a face at him.
            “I still don’t trust her. Even if she’s only two,” Yusuf complained in a joking tone, and Nicolò laughed softly.
            “Well, it doesn’t matter if you trust her or not. You know you can trust me,” Nicolò said, and got comfortable on Yusuf’s shoulder, one hand resting on Yusuf’s chest.
            “Yes, I can trust you,” Yusuf agreed, and put his arm around Nicolò’s shoulders. “I do trust you. Always.”
            They fell asleep like that, and the next morning they were woken just before sunrise by Mu’tasim, and his oldest grandson. The traders had arrived.

            The group of traders was rather large, but they were obviously good friends with Mu’tasim and the villagers. They were greeted with great warmth when Mu’tasim and two of the elders brought Nicolò and Yusuf over to the oasis where the traders had stopped to replenish their water supplies, and stock any last provisions that were needed for the ride across to the East.
            Mu’tasim sat down with the leader of the traders, and talked to him at length, before he came to collect Yusuf, and then Nicolò had to sit to the side and wait while the leader questioned Yusuf about himself and Nicolò.
            The women of the village came to the oasis a little while later to get water, and sure as a bee Farrah found her Nicolò by the small tent where the men were conversing.
            Nicolò made it clear to Farrah’s mother that he was fine with Farrah sitting with him while the women drew their water and spoke with the women of the trader caravan. He was acutely aware that the traders noticed how the little girl doted on him, and how she made him smile, but in his heart, he hoped that they would see that it was simply him enjoying the unbridled innocence of her youth, and not anything sinister.

            The sun had reached its zenith when the men finally stopped talking and Mu’tasim and Yusuf returned to Nicolò.
            Yusuf sat down on his haunches and made a silly face at Farrah, where she was sitting on Nicolò’s knee and gnawing on a dried fig, while Nicolò tried to get her to eat a little bit of fruit.
            “They have agreed to take us on as part of their security. Mu’tasim vouched for us, and said that he would provide us with camels, and clothes,” Yusuf told Nicolò in Latin, while he let Farrah play with his hand. “The elders have agreed to pay us for the help that we have provided at the village, our food and lodgings subtracted, of course. The rest the traders will provide for us, and we will get paid when we reach our destination, and then again upon our return. I told them that we are not decided yet on whether we want to return.”
            Nicolò nodded and looked around for a moment before he leaned a little closer and asked in a hushed voice,
            “Do they trust me, Yusuf? I can see that the recognize me for what I am. A Frank. Will they trust me, and not betray me?”
            “I told them that your life is forfeit with the Franks, and that you had saved my life. That is all that they need to know,” Yusuf answered and touched Nicolò’s cheek quickly. “We will go to the village now and gather our things, and receive our payment, and then we will join the caravan when they start going in the afternoon.”

            Nicolò rose to his feet, and let Farrah hold his hand as they walked back to the village with Mu’tasim and the other villagers. The family was quiet while Yusuf and Nicolò packed their things, and the kids filed past them to give them a hug goodbye before they left the house.
            Mu’tasim and the elders made good on their word, and paid Nicolò and Yusuf for their help, and provided them with two camels in exchange for their two stolen horses. They were also given some provisions, and new clothes, which Mu’tasim’s wife and daughters in law had made for them.
            As a final goodbye, Yusuf handed Mu’tasim a page from his book of drawings, and told him to give it to Farrah, so she could remember her Silly. The drawing was of Nicolò sitting with Farrah eating dried figs together. Mu’tasim promised that he would make sure that Farrah would get the drawing.

            Finally, Yusuf and Nicolò joined the trader caravan, and headed off to the East, leaving the small village behind, knowing that they might never return.
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He's all and he is more.