Age: 16
Location: Mosul – Merchant Guild and Beyond
📍 Scene: Ustadh Faruq's Merchant Hall – Morning
ZAYD IBN SULEIMAN rose early, as always. He swept the courtyard of the guild with quiet determination. But today, USTADH FARUQ approached with a long wooden ledger and two sealed letters.
USTADH FARUQ:
"You've swept enough dust, Zayd. Now it's time you learn to read the weight of coin and consequence."
Zayd bowed slightly, suppressing a smile.
ZAYD:
"Then I will read until I no longer blink."
Faruq handed him the letters.
USTADH FARUQ:
"One is from a trader in Samarra. The other from a Jewish merchant in Hilla. Both ask for prices on wool and dyes. Draft your reply and do not insult them with laziness."
Zayd spent the next four hours poring over records, comparing prices, quality of goods, and transportation costs. He wrote two separate replies, each tailored with careful logic and respectful tone.
Faruq read them in silence, then looked up with a raised brow.
USTADH FARUQ:
"Did you spend your childhood in court?"
ZAYD (calmly):
"No, ustadh. Only in hardship. But hardship teaches faster than comfort."
📍 Scene: Spice Alley, Mosul – Afternoon
Zayd walked through the bustling alleys, Nimr the eagle resting on his shoulder, drawing curious eyes. He now understood not only trade, but human patterns — how wealth traveled not just through goods, but through trust and perception.
He saw a young vendor selling pistachios from Nishapur.
VENDOR (desperate):
"Sir, a moment? Quality nuts, fresh and real!"
Zayd examined the product and noticed small worm holes.
ZAYD:
"You should roast these. The heat will kill the larvae and add flavor. Then sell them as roasted delicacies. You'll still earn — honestly."
The vendor blinked, surprised, and nodded gratefully.
📍 Scene: Guild Library – Evening
Zayd spent his nights in the merchant guild's library, granted access by Faruq after proving his loyalty. He read texts in Arabic, Persian, and Turkish. He even began studying Hebrew phrases from old ledgers. Languages now fascinated him.
ZAYD (to himself):
"If I speak to every man in his tongue, I'll never be at his mercy."
He copied trade routes from maps, memorized which cities produced which goods, and began making his own notes on price fluctuations and seasons. Slowly, a system formed in his mind — not just of goods, but of power.
📍 Scene: Rooftop of the Guild – Late Night
Under the stars, Zayd sat with Nimr beside him, watching the flickering lights of Mosul's homes.
ZAYD (softly):
"Nimr, we will not be forgotten. Not this time. My name will not end in ash."
The eagle shifted and let out a low screech, as if in agreement.
📍 Narration End
At sixteen, Zayd was no longer the wide-eyed boy who had left Al-Qarah. His eyes now searched deeper, his thoughts moved faster, and his hands wrote more than they grasped.
He was not rich yet. Not feared. Not known across empires.
But he was becoming something far rarer — a mind disciplined by purpose, and a heart loyal to legacy.
End of Chapter 9