Harem Of Aman Akbar Part 9

I could have pointed out that if we all slept, whatever damage might befall the house would befall us as well, but instead I made myself as comfortable as possible against the door frame and followed her example, as Aster also soon settled herself to do. The rain was still pelting down very hard, and after eating I found I was incredibly sleepy.

I had no sooner closed my eyes, however, than I had a nightmare. Confused images of the fruits, the candles, iron rings and a donkey tied by its hooves to a spit tumbled over and over in my head. Finally, all of this receded to be replaced by a black-shrouded figure, whom I took at first for death but saw, as it approached, to have the angry eyes of Um Aman. She was shaking her finger at me and shouting silently. Perhaps this was her way of telling me she had recovered from her wound and was back to normal. She seemed to be quoting something from what I knew, in the way one knows in dreams, to be a prayer book-something about wives-I was about to make it out when I heard another voice and snapped awake, drawing my dagger even as I opened my eyes.

My first thought was of Amollia's last words and I looked over to see her still soundly sleeping and unimmolated by vagrant candle flames. Aster was sitting halfway up, her eyes focusing beyond me.

Following her gaze, I found myself staring at what was surely a Yahtzeni prince. Behind him were two other princes, and, though all were clad in warrior garb, each of these fellows was in aspect as varied from the other as the three of us were from each other.

If he who stood grinning down at me, making no move to parry my dagger, was not a Yahtzeni, then he was surely of a related tribe. Red hair bristled fiercely from under his leather helmet and fringed his face. He was clad in a sleeveless tunic of embroidered sheepskin and leggings also of sheepskin. He wore ornaments of bronze upon his arms and down his chest in the manner of armor. A sword was strapped to his hip and a full quiver of arrows and a bow were slung over his brawny shoulder. His eyes were the cold blue of our mountain streams.

To his left stood a man as black as Amollia. His face and arms were covered with patterned scars like tattoos carved into his skin. He was clad in a robe of blood red girded with a spotted hide that looked suspiciously like that of Kalimba and he brandished a white-tipped spear. He was taller than the man of my race, and finely muscled. His smile gleamed through the rain-not the smile one uses to greet guests but the smile of a hunter congratulating himself on a recent kill.

The third of these fellows was smaller and appeared to be of the same race as Aster. He was clad in subtly woven silks of misty sea green, over which was linked a sort of wooden armor. His black hair he wore long and his thin beard and mustaches he also wore long. Though slight of build, he was no less handsome and muscular than the other two. Like Aster, he was also apparently p.r.o.ne to curiosity-for he was straining to see around the redhead's shoulder-and to talkativeness, for it was he who spoke first, though to his comrades rather than to us.

"What have we here? Three wild roses taking root in our chambers? Three pearls beyond price so far from the sea?"

The redhead grinned down at me so heartily I thought I heard his teeth grind. "Two ewe lambs and a very wet shepherdess more likely from the look of them," he said.

Amollia roused up with a languid smile and said graciously, "We hoped you wouldn't mind. But we were pa.s.sing and noticed you'd left your candles burning. And it being monsoon season and the rains having started-"

"Gracious lady!" the man of her race said in Kharristani so fluent I wondered if he too had been tutored by the djinn, "Please do not apologize. Your eyes light this poor dwelling far more than all of these puny candles. You must stay with us. Share our meal."

"Yes," the silken-clad fellow added with a warm glance at Amollia. "Though our home is but a sty of a place, hardly fit for such rough dogs as we, we would be sorely aggrieved if you did not grant us the honor of your company."

I was dubious about this invitation, even then, for they looked as dangerous as they did handsome. But, we had entered their home without permission, and they were blocking the door.

We spent the best part of the afternoon eating, drinking, and engaging in pleasant, if rather limited, conversation. The black man joined Amollia among her stacks of cushions, the Oriental prince sat beside Aster, and the red-haired fellow fairly swept me from the stony threshold, paying no attention to my protests about my wet clothing, and deposited me upon silken cushions similar to those enjoyed by my friends. Asters friend clapped his hands once. Half of the candles extinguished themselves. He clapped again. A br.i.m.m.i.n.g tray of mutton and rice seasoned with saffron appeared before us, along with bottles of strong drink, the first I had sampled in these lands.

Nor did these princely beings expect us to wait until they were done, as had Marid Khan and his men, but like Aman Akbar fed us morsels with their own fingers. I noted with amazement and approval that, in spite of my new friend's rough manner, his hands and fingernails were clean.

Even better, though he had the looks and manners of those accursed relatives of mine, he smelled much better. In fact, he smelled not at all of the wet wool, horse sweat and smoke of dung fires that cling to my people even after repeated baths. I confess I wondered briefly what his mother was like and how many women he already had.

At once I felt guilty, remembering poor Aman Akbar, and stole a peek away from the rugged face above me to see if Aster and Amollia noticed what had to be my obvious disloyalty in thought, if not yet in deed. Neither appeared to notice anything but the countenance of her companion. I would have to look elsewhere for moral guidance.

I cleared my throat and said to my warrior's beard, "Good of you to offer to put us up. I am Rasa Ulliovna of the Yahtzeni. We three are the wives of an important and wealthy man named Aman Akbar-"

"I know," he said shortly, though by no means in an unfriendly fashion, for his arm tightened around my shoulders as he spoke. He gave the impression that he was simply a man of few words.

I tried again. "What is your name and how came you and your companions to dwell together?"

"Some call me Dag, but you can call me 'beloved, "' he answered with another squeeze. After that, he was long on the squeezing and short on the conversation. His idea of wooing seemed to be a variation on Yahtzeni fighter practice-he would thrust and I would parry, all the while laughing as if he were privy to some joke I was not, which did not particularly move me but did provide me with ample opportunity to hear the conversations on either side of us.

Aster was giggling as her new friend snapped his fingers and changed her hairdo, twining the black locks into a tall crown interlaced with pearls and pink rosebuds. With another snap he provided her a golden-backed mirror with which to admire herself.

"You shouldn't!" she protested in a teasing and half-hearted fashion. "I hardly know you."

"What is there to know, my little peony blossom?" he replied, stroking his mustache between thumb and forefinger. "I am handsome, witty, talented, educated, and have a fine house-"

"Oh, then the three of you don't own this place together?" she asked with a coy look from under her lashes.

"Well, yes, but only as a gesture of brotherhood-because we're such fond friends and everything. But this is only one of our hunting lodges. Each of us lives by himself in a great palace with many pavilions and enough servants to populate a small city. There I could give you anything you want." He snapped his fingers and a skewer full of mutton chunks and vegetables jumped into his hand. "Here we are forced to rough it."

I applauded not because I hadn't already seen much better but because I was sure I was expected to applaud, the magician having caught my eye as he amazed and astounded Aster.

"That's not so much," Dag grumbled, his pride apparently injured by the fickleness of my attention. "We can all do that stuff. Wish for something. Go on. Anything. Wish for something."

What I really wished was to be home again with Aman Akbar in his original form, minus Um Aman and the others, with Hyaganoosh nothing more than another silly name, but I had the feeling that that particular wish would not be well-received by my host. So I scaled my aspirations down somewhat and said, imitating Aster's teasing tone, "If you can truly do as you say, fetch me that old rag Amollia has in her sash."

He snapped his fingers and nothing happened, whereupon he first flushed, then scowled mightily. Changing tactics, he pointed his thumb at Amollia, who, without looking away from her escort or indicating in any way she knew what she was doing, took the headcloth from her sash and tossed it over her shoulder to me.

"There is something strange about that rag," Dag said, still scowling. He withdrew his arm from my shoulders when I tucked it into my own sash.

I found I did not care to explain to him the properties of the rag-not until I knew him better at any rate. I therefore changed the subject to the one always certain to fascinate any Yahtzeni warrior-himself. "You're remarkable!" I exclaimed. "How came you by such skills?"

"My brothers and I are all great friends of a-er-very powerful magician."

Amollia's friend had noticed our little byplay and decided to get into the act too. He flashed us a dazzling smile and I saw that his teeth had been filed to points.

"Some of us are greater friends than others, however. What you lack, beloved brother, is flair. Watch this!" And from nowhere great ropes of gems and ornate bands of gold and silver dropped over Amollia's head onto her neck while bracelets far shinier and more ma.s.sive and ornate than the one she had used to purchase-excuse me, rent-the elephant clasped themselves around her wrists and ankles. Long open-work pendants studded with rubies and sapphires and emeralds swung from her earlobes while a matching trinket adorned her nose. Her eyes crossed as she tried to admire it all.

"Don't be too impressed by this, my little panther," her friend said. "This is nothing compared to what my brothers and I have to offer the maidens we love if only they agree to brighten our lives by marrying us. Isn't that so, brothers?"

"I was about to say something of the sort myself," Aster's friend said, bowing slightly.

"How about it?" Dag asked with a wink, and ventured a cautious squeeze of my knee.

Amollia rose with jingling dignity to her feet and said firmly, "My sisters and I need to confer. Will you please excuse us?"

Before Aster and I could rise, our suitors politely withdrew into an adjoining room.

"What do you mean we 'have to confer'?" Aster asked. "What's to confer about? Chu Mi was just getting ready to produce a new gown for me."

"That is exactly what we need to talk about," Amollia said, studying her with a solemnity at odds with her own festive appearance. "I think there is something strange going on here. A prince for each of us? Did you take their proposals seriously?"

Aster considered, her finger tapping her pointed kitten's chin. "I take a new gown seriously. There's nothing so strange about that. And if we each went our separate ways with these men, it would solve the problem of who was in favor with Aman Akbar. I'd say it was a good opportunity for a smart girl to be the pet of a rich husband of her own people."

"You can't mean to abandon Aman now," I protested. I felt very sorry for Aman, even if he had brought most of his trouble on himself. I was glad he wasn't around to hear his last favorite speak of him, that disastrously romantic man, in such discouragingly practical terms. I didn't agree with her about the advantages of having a husband of my own people either. I was not really ready, for one thing, to be initiated into the joys of sheep-style lovemaking.

"I didn't say I I was going to abandon him," she said defensively. "I just said I could see where it would be a smart thing to do." was going to abandon him," she said defensively. "I just said I could see where it would be a smart thing to do."

"If you're thinking, little sister, to use this situation to rid yourself of compet.i.tion, consider how much harder it would be for you alone to free Aman Akbar from his curse," Amollia said.

Aster looked glum. "I just thought of that."

"You might also consider that the three of us at least seem to be able to get along. A new husband might marry other wives less compatible. So, for that matter, might Aman, should you succeed in ridding him of the curse after having rid yourself of us."

Aster shrugged. "All right. All right. I was only pointing out that on the surface it seemed a very good opportunity. I didn't really expect either of you to take advantage of it any more than I intended to. Personally, I'm in favor of letting them down easy and leaving as soon as possible. I find I have developed a certain dislike for magicians-too much like djinns for my taste."

In that she was closer to the truth than she knew.

They seemed to have expected our demurrals and, in fact, I caught what looked like a flicker of glee pa.s.sing between Dag and Chu Mi. It was gone at once. Chu Mi took Aster's arm and said, "If you must go, you must. But I have for you a parting gift. Come with me to the next room and I will give it to you. '

She shot him a brief, hard look but then greed overcame her sense and she followed him. As soon as the door closed behind them I heard a sound I had heard only a few times before in my life and all of them recently, that of a bolt sinking into its slot. But I had no time to contemplate the meaning of the noise, for all of a sudden it seemed that the heavy timber of the bolt had descended not into its slot after all, but into my skull, which without warning burst apart with pain.

As soon as I awoke I wished I had not, for the pain that had caused me to lose my senses was no better. In fact, with my senses returned-or most of them-it was, not unnaturally, much worse. Now I could feel in great detail the agony of my scalp as each hair in my head tried to rip out its own native soil as it strained upward. The horrible tension in my neck as my body was pulled in one direction by my hair and in the other by its own weight. My eyes would not open fully, half shut with the tugging of the skin around them. I knew at once, however, as does every little girl whose mother or sisters have ever braided her hair what was happening to me. My hair was being pulled. Hard. The red-hot glaze before my eyes vanished briefly when I blinked and I saw Amollia dangling just across from me, a little higher than I was but in similar straits, though her short curls would not allow her to drop as far from the iron ring to which they were tied as did my captive braids.

"They take rejection badly, don't they?" she whispered huskily. Her whole face threatened to pull inside out and her eyes slanted at an angle far more acute than Aster's.

My own voice emerged only with difficulty. "I think we made the right decision. I'd never want to marry a man who considers this this... sort of thing... persuasive."

But persuasive was exactly what this treatment was meant to be-though we were not the ones being persuaded. No sooner had I spoken than between Amollia and me something banged and I saw the edge of a latticed shutter fly from a point near my waist to one near Amollia's hip and heard a sc.r.a.pe as it struck stone on the other side. Suddenly a stick was thrust forward and struck Amollia in the ribs, setting her swinging and shrieking simultaneously. Her cries would have been heartrending to me except that before I could have my heart rent, my head was instead once more all but rent, for I too received a clout that tore loose part of a braid so that blood and tears simultaneously poured across my face as I rocked to and fro.

Chu Mi's voice sliced through my pain. "Isn't that a shame? Such nice little women. Such good friends of yours. See how much they hurt? Don't you want to give us what is ours so we can pull them in before they are quite bald and drop into the river for the crocodiles to eat? Or perhaps the great Simurg will pick them up in her talons and rip them off the wall and carry them home to feed her young? You wouldn't want that to happen to your friends, would you? So give us what is rightfully ours and spare your friends their pain and yourself the sight of it. You have no use for the object after all."

"I'll have less use for it when you're done with me, I'm sure of that," Aster said angrily. "Who are you really? What do you want?"

"Oh, no, clever one. Oh, indeed no," Chu Mi laughed. "You won't get me me to name the unnamable. You may sit here and think about it and watch those two swing and surely it will come to you. It is only my tenderness toward you and your beautiful long black locks that keeps you from sharing their fate." to name the unnamable. You may sit here and think about it and watch those two swing and surely it will come to you. It is only my tenderness toward you and your beautiful long black locks that keeps you from sharing their fate."

Silence. Then Aster, leaning far out, her head and torso barely glimpsed from the corner of one of my poor tortured eyes. "Oh, Amollia! Rasa! Dear sisters! Are you all right?"

"Very well, thanks be to G.o.d," Amollia said in a dry, pained imitation of Um Aman and her friends. "And you?"

"Aster," I gasped. "What do they want? ' I was not thinking very clearly at that time, as my brains were being sucked out the holes vacated by my hair.

"Oh, that. The cork, of course, Rasa, didn't you guess? Rut don't worry. I don't care what they do to me, I won't give it up. I'll be brave as you would be in my place and never let them have it. For then what would they do to us?"

I was wishing she would consult me about what I would do in her place instead of just a.s.suming she knew, when the wall under my right shoulder slithered.

Chapter 9.

I have mentioned the voluptuous figures carved into the stone walls of the buildings. Since beyond us stretched the trunks and greenery of the jungle and below us, according to Chu Mi (for I could not look down), flowed a river, it was safe to a.s.sume that we hung from one of the outer rather than inner walls. I shifted my limited gaze to the right, only my training at confronting that which frightened me keeping me from shrinking from what I knew, from the touch I had already endured, was there.

I was slightly mistaken. No fully live snake had crawled out of the wall to add to our pain and the certainty of death. Rather, the most distant aspect of the carving touching my shoulder, that of a dancer bearing across her her shoulders a hooded cobra, was changing. Or at least the snake was. Had it not been for the touch I would have a.s.sumed I was enduring a waking fever dream born of my anguish, for the stone warmed in color and writhed in sections, until gradually it did indeed bear the semblance of a living snake, flicking its tongue in and out as it slithered across the dancer's more-than-supportive bosom and onto my shoulder, where its darting tongue all but touched my cheek. shoulders a hooded cobra, was changing. Or at least the snake was. Had it not been for the touch I would have a.s.sumed I was enduring a waking fever dream born of my anguish, for the stone warmed in color and writhed in sections, until gradually it did indeed bear the semblance of a living snake, flicking its tongue in and out as it slithered across the dancer's more-than-supportive bosom and onto my shoulder, where its darting tongue all but touched my cheek.

My breath stopped.

"Yesss," it hissed and I found I was making little whimpering sounds.

I felt rather than saw Aster strain forward in an attempt to look around me. "Rasa? What is it? Is it the bird? Is a crocodile trying to bite your toe? Chu Mi says they can jump this high-"

"Must you repeat everything you hear?" Amollia gasped. I barely heard any of it. I was busy being petrified. Then Amollia must have managed to lever herself into position to see me for she emitted a faint yelp which she strangled at once for fear, considerate creature that she is, of startling the snake into striking. Slowly and carefully she said, "A stone snake is licking Rasas face." you repeat everything you hear?" Amollia gasped. I barely heard any of it. I was busy being petrified. Then Amollia must have managed to lever herself into position to see me for she emitted a faint yelp which she strangled at once for fear, considerate creature that she is, of startling the snake into striking. Slowly and carefully she said, "A stone snake is licking Rasas face."

"Poor thing," Aster said resignedly. "Maybe it's an indication of what her next life will be like-"

The snake had borne all it could bear. "If you stupid females do not stop your screeching and babbling I will quite forget the good impression I was forming of you for showing such fidelity to your husband and abandon you to your doom after all."

Had the pain not kept me alert I would have swooned again from relief. "Djinn?" I asked.

"Shush! What good does it do me to disguise myself if thou bellowest my nature to all within hearing?"

"But how came you here?" Aster asked, leaning so far forward that she struggled for a moment for balance and had to withdraw a fraction back inside.

"I prefer not to say," the snake replied, folding its hood primly round its head.

"You're probably responsible, aren't you?" Aster hissed back.

"Silence, I say. Thou needst not carry on so. A djinn must do what he must and I am the servant of the bottle even if thy taking ways have allowed me unaccustomed freedom. Can I help it if your conduct was far more commendable than anyone would have thought of three infidels? I tried to give yon Divs shapes which would tempt you into doing my master's will rather than horrify you but you were not so easily led astray. Oh, bravo, dear ladies! Bravo!"

"Your praise is as touching as your confidence in us, O djinn," I replied. "But get us down." This I hissed back at it so vehemently that now it was the snake who drew back its head.

"Oh. I couldn't possibly interfere directly," the snake replied. "That would be contrary to my present master's wish. However, I can give you the benefit of my advice, and am inclined to do so, now knowing what laudable characters you have-for women. And I certainly cannot allow you to perish without telling you how proud I am of you for being strong and defending your honor and turning down the temptation of luxury and delight, choosing instead to endure great woe and pain by denying the Divs that which they seek."

"You see?" Aster hissed emphatically. "I knew knew he was responsible." he was responsible."

The snake ignored her.

"On the other hand, resistance in this matter is absolutely useless. My master would have from you the cork to my bottle and even you ignorant females must see that he will have it sooner or later."

"Whose side are you on anyway?" Aster demanded. "First you warn us away from the palace, then you make a half-hearted attempt to force us to return with you to the Emir-"

"I did not!" the djinn replied huffily. "Obviously, if I had in any fashion attempted to force you, you would have gone. Though I was not certain that my cork was in your hands at the beginning of that interview, I knew I had been at liberty an uncommonly long time. Therefore, my main task at that time was to comply with the letter of my master's wish, which, as you pointed out, was not possible, even for one of my power. I felt the power of the seal Lady Rasa bore on her person toward the end of that meeting however. Later, when my master had discovered the loss of it but did not yet know where to look, I took advantage of his disorganization to make a foray of my own to your tent to try to persuade you to give it back voluntarily."

"And when that failed, you turned upon us with your minions?" The resentment in Aster's tone was not nearly sufficient to cover mine. She sounded merely pouty. I was wishing the djinn back into his old form, whereupon I would somehow find the strength to hoist him by certain particularly tender parts of his person from the ring upon which I hung.

"Not mine, lady! Oh, no. I merely advised a stratagem whereby the Emir's ally, the King of Divs, might use his subjects to a.s.sist the Emir in obtaining the cork from thee. And a gentle, honeyed stratagem it was. What point was there, I asked, in using unnecessary brutality? Only she who held the seal could give it, and she had to give it freely, for it cannot be taken by force. Hadst thou acquiesced to the wooings of the Div, Lady Aster, thou wouldst have been deprived of the seal of Suleiman the moment thou removed-whilst thou-well, the Div would have obtained it when thou hadst laid it aside."

"And what would have happened to us then?" Aster asked.

The djinn-snake swelled a little. "Well-er-I suppose the others would have been abandoned in the jungle and thou delivered unto my master, who covets thee yet. Or perhaps all of you would have been given to the King of Divs for his service. How should I know? I cannot think of everything. Be a.s.sured it would have been a gentler fate than that which inevitably awaits thee now. For myself, I spent a great deal of time detouring overland to reach this place. It was very bad of you to seek to avoid me by crossing the ocean that way."

None of us apologized.

"But now, Lady Aster, thou must for the sake of Lady Rasa and Lady Amollia give up the cork. It is of no use to you whatsoever. It serves only to bring upon you the wrath of my master and his powerful allies. You do not know the ways of Divs. They can turn themselves into anything. Anything. At the present moment the Emir is high in the favor of the King of Divs, to whom he secretly pays tribute, for he sent him the beauteous Hyaganoosh. And my master will not rest until the cork is returned, for so long as it is out of the bottle, he cannot fully control me. Unless he wishes to expend one of his wishes and formally command me, I may come and go at will. And he has already used two of those wishes!" The djinn chortled a little at that.

"I wish you had told us all of this before," Aster complained.

"While I could not act forcibly against you, neither could I willfully disobey he who holds the bottle. And at the time, I thought you no better than he. Now that I know what faithful and devoted wives you are-"

"If you approve of us so much, release us from here!" I said, and as hard as I tried to make it sound like a command, to my roaring ears it sounded more like a whine.

"Apologies, Lady Rasa. I cannot. As I explained, I cannot act against the Emir directly any more than I can act against you. It is a very delicate matter." The snake's tongue flicked in and out in a finicky manner, as if ill.u.s.trating the delicacy. "One can't expect infidels to understand. But I would give the Divs the seal, Lady Aster. They cannot force it from you but they can do very bad things to Lady Amollia and Lady Rasa. Very bad things indeed-oh, my goodness!" The snake's color began to dim to stony pitted gray again, and only the eyes remained lit and the tongue lively for a moment as the hiss dried to powder. "I am fading. The Emir must be calling and therefore I must go. Even if he has no wish, I must be present in case he does have. May G.o.d protect you, even if you are infidels. You'll need it."