I Will Stay

A story that needed to be distinguished - set apart- away from all others like it. And so I named after Nasir's express thought on the matter. For nowhere else does that thought and desire shine through so completely than in this version of the story.

I WILL STAY

“You asked its permission.” Balian said suddenly. Nassir looked up startled and, if possible, intrigued. “The only way we could make this journey is if your master's steed accepted you and you asked its...approval I guess, without trying to buy his acceptance.”

“Yes. I...must admit you surprise me.”

“I am the baron of Ibelin. But until Godfrey found me, before my father came to France looking for me I was a blacksmith in Niece. I know the behavior of horses.”

“I, should give them a little something.” Nassir prompted. Though he intended it as a question.

With Balian's nodded approval the stranger took a couple of broken carrot pieces from his satchel and handed one to each horse. He patted the steed's neck for a moment and then looked down, sadly. “Forgive the intrusion but are you...like Godfrey?”

“I'm not sure honestly. I only knew him for a short time before he passed on. Why do you ask?”

“Godfrey was one of the few Christian lords we respected for his conscience and principles, as much as for his skills as a warrior or the honor due his rank. Sala-hodeen himself would respect him as..” He looked almost frightened and stopped himself. “I am sorry. I know you must feel overawed as it is.”

“It's quite alright Nassir. I'm going to miss you.”

The shock on the other man's face was considerable. “Where am I going?” He said in a rushed voice.

“I have a new life to live. I am not certain  what to expect but I cannot ask you to be a part of it. You should go, be about your business...be with those you care for.”

“Forgive me but are you jesting with me?”

“No why would I...Why would anyone say that in a jest?”

“Why would you let me go?” Nassir responded instantly. Slowly he explained, unsure the mysterious stranger to these shores understood what was going on. “Sir, this is your prize of battle. I was the servant of the man you killed in fair combat. I am your prisoner...your SLAVE should you wish it.”

“Nassir, I understand the custom of position. But why do you offer this? Is it because of my rank, or simply that I won a fight against your old master, who happened to be a knight? How much is my rank and how much is that I won?"

'You truly must be a stranger here' was the look on Nassir's face as he explained hat it really was entirely in Balian's hands what happened to him, in part from their understanding of fate, chance destiny and the balance of the world. The turning of fortune's wheel. But also that Nassir himself was the servant of the man Balian had killed in fair combat. Balian had more than earned the right to decide his own fate. That Nassir's willingness to become his 'prisoner or slave' was a willing, if not entirely freely given offer; expected to be given Balian because of his rank. “That said I must ask: What do you intend to do with me?”

“I will ne-ver own another human being. And I refuse to make you pay the price for your master's choices. I was little better than a slave myself before Godfrey...before my father found me my life changed very much overnight. We left for the Holy land together but he did not survive the journey that brought me here. Regardless of how this came to be, I will not have you following after me because of who my father happened to be. This new life was thrust on me; I've done nothing to earn or prove my rank as a knight. I have done nothing to deserve the admiration I see in your eyes right now. Go in peace.”

I categorically refuse the allowance, I do not deserve it and I will not claim it. Nassir, until a week ago, I was not a man of rank, and have done absolutely nothing to deserve that honor. I will not use a title I have not earned to make any man follow after me. As far as your being my slave, I will never keep one nor suffer any to be kept if I can change it. This world, being a lord and having recognition is as foreign a world to me as the Holy Land and Syria itself. I do not deserve your admiration. Go in peace.

“I cannot Milord.” Nassir said slowly but firmly. “ALL is as God wills it; I truly believe that. I cannot see how the two of us could have met at all unless Allah wished it so, unless God himself brought us together. At any rate, I am not permitted to leave your side. I refuse to leave a stranger to Jerusalem alone in a sea of faces.” Nassir smiled thinly. “No matter what life will be like, it will be worth living.” he quipped, looking vaguely mystical. “Call me a servant or a protector if you want; it would not be far from the truth. But no matter what else my life is now, it is bound to yours and not out of compulsion, I assure you. Inshallah."

"God wills it?" Balian guessed.

"More like God wills it...so it is."

“I'm not going to dissuade you from this, am I?” Balian said with a soft smile. Nassir shook his head slowly. “Then so be it. But I will insist on one thing. Do not call me 'sir' or 'Milord' My name is Balian and that's what you at least should call me.”

“Very well....Balian.”

Written to be read aloud.

Balian had been met in the city streets by three of his father's men: Almaric, who seemed to have been one of Godfrey's most trusted soldiers. Lenard, a young man with red hair on his crown and above his lip, and a Spaniard who was called Ruiz, and said very little. Of course the first order of business had been to confirm Balian had indeed known Godfrey and carried his sword for a good reason. The second was sorting out why he traveled with a Saracen servant.

“Nassir asked to follow me and I accepted his help. There is nothing more to it than that, nor should there be.” Balian replied tersely.

“Nassir.” Lenard said with an ill-favored glance at the man. “What kind of Chevalier DeGuise actually chooses that name?”

“None.” the man answered simply. “My master, my old master called me that as a job description. And I answer to it easily, far more easily after yesterday because now I asked for the position.”

“What are you discussing?” Balian all but demanded. I am asking you Almaric more than the others.

Nassir raised his left hand in a 'if I may' gesture and the solider, Almaric nodded his assent. “The word NASSIR mean 'champion or supporter'. It made sense to me that Mummad al-Fais would take to calling me that: I was his closest companion when he had no other support with him. But three days ago I asked to be your guardian and chose to stand with you, no matter what. I do not foresee myself changing my mind, and unless I do, I have no reason to use a different name for myself.”

“Nassir, if any of your equals met you in the market place, what would they call you?”

“My name is less a choice than 'Nassir'. To be clear, my master did not replace one identity with another. He simply called me Nassir as a term of endearment. I was 'Imad' to people who knew me well. But please, if I have any say in the matter NASSIR is what I wish to be called. It always has been.”

“I am sorry for my assumption.” Lenard said softly but clearly.

“And I am sorry if I've made you doubt yourself.” Balian said, agreeing with the man.

“I hope I may still count on your friendship, now that I know you are not actually afraid of me.”

“A reminder of humility, and antidote to arrogance?”