"O my mistress, what do you contemplate?" Shawahi inquired with a quaver. She had excellent reason to distrust the motives of the Queen.
Nur al-Huda appraised the old woman"s att.i.tude at a glance. One of the disconcerting things about her was the fact that she could read Shawahi more readily than the old woman could return the favor. "Do not fear for his safety, mother. I mean only to verify that my sister is his wife and the children his, for young boys should not be isolated from their sire. I swear by all manner of oaths that if this is the case, I will not hinder him from taking them back to his own country. I will send him home with wealth and troops befitting royalty-but I must be certain, first."
Rea.s.sured, Shawahi listened to the Queen"s instructions. She was to arm herself and travel to Manar al-Sana"s residence with a troop of hors.e.m.e.n and bring back the two boys. She was to keep the mission secret, and not tell anyone why the lads were being taken until the connection had been verified, otherwise the test would not be valid.
Shawahi prepared herself at the palace, gathered her escort, and made the three-day journey to the southwest coast where the six other sisters dwelt. Each had her little island off the main Isle, Sana"s being the most distant. The crossing was accomplished, the official request presented.
"Why of course I owe my sister a visit," Sana agreed.
"Only let me bid farewell to my father the King, and I will return with you now."
This was not precisely what Shawahi had intended. The trial of the boys" father-relationship had to be made with- out the mother present, so that no equivocation was possi- ble. "My lady, your sister bids me also bring your two boys to her, for she has never seen them."
Sana"s pleasant bearing changed. "O my mother, I cannot take them on such a journey. My vitals tremble and my heart flutters when I think of the dangers to which they might be exposed. I fear for their health even when the zephyr breathes upon them in the night."
Shawahi had been afraid of this. "What words are these, O my daughter? Surely you don"t believe your sister means harm to these innocents? She is the Queen, and you dare not cross her in this matter or she will be very angry with you. It is hardly unnatural for her to want to see her nephews."
Sana bowed her head. She had never had the firmness of her sisters. "I don"t know what to do. I love them so much, since they are all I have to remember their father by. How can I expose them to-" She broke off, horrified.
Shawahi caught the slip. "You did know their father, then. The boys are not foundlings."
Sana knelt and clutched the old woman"s skirt. "O my mother, please, please never tell anyone that! It would mean my life."
There was more Shawahi wanted to know, but she had promised the Queen not to divulge her true purpose, and further questions would give it away. She was sure now in her own mind that Sana was Hasan"s wife, and that she still loved him. But why hadn"t the silly girl rejoined him in Baghdad? Or at least left word at Serendip?
"I will say nothing, my daughter," Shawahi promised, knowing that this would change nothing. How she longed to speak Hasan"s name and bring the couple together again! But the given word was absolute, in Wak, and the reuniting would happen soon in any event. Once the Queen was a.s.sured of the situation, all would be well.
It gave her a warm feeling, for Shawahi had come to love Hasan as a son, and Sana, despite her softness, had been her favorite foster-daughter. The two were alike in physical beauty and warmth of personality and especially in that certain quality of naivete that was so rare in the world today.
Meanwhile there was the mission. "O my daughter, you know my affection for you and those dear to you, for indeed I raised you myself after your gracious mother died. Give your sons to my charge, so that I may take them to the Queen, and I will care for them with the same heart I cared for you. Never fear for their safety; I will dress them in two little coats of mail and protect them with my life until you join them again. You can follow me at your leisure, and all will be well."
Sana remained uncertain, but finally agreed. "Take them," she said with tears in her eyes, "and I will follow when I a.s.semble my party in a day or so, even as you say. I know they are safe in your care."
Shawahi hoped this faith was justified. The Queen had promised, but the Queen was a law of her own.
She went next to see the King, for it would have been an act of disrespect to leave without paying homage to the nominal ruler of all the empire. She had served him loyally for all her adult life and held him in the highest esteem. He was a man who deserved more than a family of seven daughters and no son.
After the formalities, the King dismissed his retainers and a.s.sociates and gave Shawahi private audience. "O faithful one," he said, "it gladdens my heart to see you again, for my mind is oppressed by a mysterious dream which I know not how to interpret."
Shawahi"s days of dream interpretation were long be- hind her, but she was happy to help her King. "How so, O my liege and master of empires?" She had not realized how old and tired the King had become in the past few years. The spark of majesty remained, but the n.o.ble strength that had driven an empire to greatness was gone with the color of his hair. Strong-willed Nur al-Huda would proba- bly continue to rule, in the absence of male power. Unfor- tunately, she had neither the wisdom nor control of her sire; the empire was likely to suffer.
"In my dream I entered a hidden h.o.a.rd, wherein was great store of monies, of jewels, of jacinths and of other riches. But it was as if naught could please me of all this treasure save seven bezels, which were the finest jewels there. I chose out one of the seven, and it was the smallest and most l.u.s.trous of them all, and its color pleased me. So I took it in my hand and fared forth from that treasury. When I came outside the door I opened my hand, rejoicing and turning over the jewel. Behold-there swooped down on me out of the welkin a strange bird from a far land, a creature not of our country, and s.n.a.t.c.hed it from my hand and carried it away. Whereupon sorrow and concern and sore vexation overcame me, and I felt such exceeding chagrin that I awoke mourning and lamenting the loss of the jewel."
Shawahi stood silent, not daring to comment. She knew what the King did not: that a traveler had entered Wak from a distant land and was about to claim the youngest and prettiest and most beloved of the King"s seven jewels. She knew-but was bound to silence by her promise to the Queen.
"What interpretation do you place upon this vision?" the King inquired. "Indeed, it sore oppresses me and hinders my rest."
Now the burden was upon Shawahi. She could not speak falsely to her King-but neither could she break her oath.
He looked at her sharply. "Surely you have something to say, O loyal mistress of my armies? Well I remember when in all the realm there was not your peer at magic and divination. ..."
"That was many years ago, my master. Now I am old and confused, and my loyalties pull me first one way and then the other until I don"t know what to do. All I can say about your dream is that perhaps the bird took away the jewel from you because there was another who needed it more, having no treasure while you had seven. Perhaps that other will care for it and cherish it long after you-"
She had slipped as badly as had Sana, but the King only smiled. "You are right, old companion-at-arms. I shall have no need of jewels hereafter. I will not be born a king again. ..."
Shawahi"s mind was in turmoil long after that interview. The King knew he was dying. She suspected she would not see the great old monarch again, and did not want to outlive him.
She took the two boys, a fine three year old lad who seemed to resemble Hasan and his brother a year younger who favored Sana, and made the return trip swiftly be- tween the mountains and the sh.o.r.e, using the special trails and pathways no one else knew. She brought the boys immediately to Queen Nur al-Huda, their aunt.
The Queen rejoiced at the sight of them. She embraced them both and pressed them to her breast. They accepted this without complaint, for she was very like their mother when she chose to be. Then she seated one upon her right thigh and the other upon her left and paid them much attention, while Shawahi marveled at this unaccustomed display of affection and thought how fine a woman the Queen might be if only she had a husband to mitigate her pa.s.sions.
"Fetch me Hasan forthwith," Nur al-Huda said. So she knew him by name now! Things had certainly changed . . . possibly too much, she thought with a sudden qualm. "I have granted him my safeguard and spared him from execution. He has sought asylum in my domain and taken up abode in my city, after pa.s.sing through all manner of mortal risks and enduring hardships, each more terrible than the other. ..." She glanced meaningfully at Shawahi. "Yet he is not safe from the severance of his breath."
So the Queen still meant to kill Hasan if he was not the father of the two children. "When I bring him, will you reunite him with his sons? Or, if they are not his, will you pardon him and let him go in peace?"
The royal temper flared, frightening the children. "Fie upon you, O ill-omened old creature! How long will you try to distort my judgment in the matter of this stranger who has dared intrude himself upon us and pry into our affairs? Do you think he can come into our country unin- vited and poke into our business and betray our honor, and then return safely to his own country to expose our con- cerns to his people and bruit them about among all the kings of the earth and send forth the report with vile merchants and others of ill repute journeying in all direc- tions, saying, "A mortal man has entered the Isles of Wak and traversed the Land of the Jinn and the Isles of the Birds and the Place of the Wild Beasts and the Country of Warlocks and Enchanters-and returned in safety?" This shall never be, no never; and I swear by Him who built the Heavens and spread and smoothed the earth and who created and counted all creatures that if these innocent boys are not his sons, I will a.s.suredly slay him and strike off his head with my own hand! Now get out of here and fetch me Hasan!"
And as the old woman stumbled and fell and dragged herself away and the two boys cried in terror and the very curtains of the palace seemed to smoke with the force of her explosion, the Queen turned and added quietly to her mamelukes: "Go with this crone and fetch the fair youth who is in her house."
Hasan was too distraught this time to pay any attention to the st.u.r.dy architecture of the palace as he entered it. In moments he would either achieve his dream, or suffer death. How he hoped the children were his!
The Queen was making merry with the two lads, who had apparently adjusted already to her mercurial moods. As Hasan approached she turned the boys to face him.
"Nasir! Mansur!" he exclaimed, recognizing them.
The older boy"s eyes widened. Time had pa.s.sed, and much had changed . . . but in a moment he scrambled down from the Queen"s lap and ran to his father. Seeing this, the younger one followed. Hasan embraced both of them.
"Merciful Buddha!" Shawahi whispered, tears of sym- pathy and relief streaming down her ancient face. The servants and guards of the palace stood around with senti- mental expressions.
But Nur al-Huda, strangely, was not pleased. "These, then, are indeed your children, and their mother is your wife?"
"Yes, O my lady!" Hasan agreed happily, unaware of the undercurrent.
"And you are a merchant of Arabia without royal blood?"
Hasan began to get the drift. "I am, O Queen."
The Queen"s eye dilated and light froth appeared at the corners of her mouth. "You unspeakable pig!" she screamed in his face, while he stood amazed that such beauty could become so vile so rapidly. "Lecherous despoiler of roy- alty! Did you dare to lay your unclean hands upon a princess of Wak?" She struck him in the face, a hard blow with clenched fist in the manner of a man, and kicked him in the chest when he tried to escape by doubling over. It occurred to him that his motion had averted the blow intended . . . "Fly for your life! If I had not sworn to do you no evil were your story true, I would slay you this moment!"
Shawahi tried to say something, but the Queen turned on her. "Quiet, O ill begotten harlot! But for the fact I am loath to break my oath, I would put you and him both to death in the foulest fashion." The old woman retreated and fell on the floor.
The Queen returned her attention to Hasan. "Depart, monster, and return to your own country before I lose my temper! I swear by my fortune and all the power of Wak which is mine that if I ever see you again I will smite off your head and kill anyone with you."
Then she cried to her guards. "Throw this carrion out!"
Once again the men took hold of Hasan and dragged him on his face across the floor and thrust him out of the palace. He stumbled away, bruised and faint, his mind filled with the picture of the Queen"s terrible wrath and Shawahi"s horror as she realized they had been betrayed.
Chapter 12. Cap and Rod.
Now Hasan understood why the old woman had mis- trusted the Queen. Once again he had learned not to be naive-too late. He should have taken one of the lovely maidens of the city as a second wife, until able to search out Sana. As it was, he was virtually condemned to death, for no citizen would risk the wrath of the Queen by helping him, and he could never make his way through the lands of the Jinn and Birds and Beasts and all the rest of it alone.
What had he brought upon his wife and children? Surely the Queen would have no mercy upon them, after this.
Hasan cursed himself and wished he had never attempted this quest. He had succeeded only in bringing destruction upon everyone he loved, and he still had no idea where his wife was, or any power to help her. Yet he had been warned. . . .
His new Wak clothing was fouled with the dirt of the road, his face and chest smarted with the blows of the Queen and her guards, and the pebbles of the road were hard on his tender feet. He had worn sandals so long that he had no callouses on his soles.
Black-haired children ceased their play and stared at him as he pa.s.sed. They knew already that he was a stranger again and an outcast.
The houses of the city diminished into primitive huts at the outskirts. Spindly rails supported leaning roofs, the thick thatch descending over the edges of the road to head-height. Bamboo and bundles of sticks lined the street, providing convenient hiding-places for the children.
Where would his own children hide?
The city ended at the river. Hasan turned and walked beside the water, pa.s.sing the crowded rickety piers reach- ing out from houses on stilts. Dugout boats were so com- mon that the water beneath them was hardly visible in places. More children sat in many of them, staring pas- sively out at him.
He pa.s.sed an area of level sand where thousands of gutted fish were drying in the sun. He was hungry-but the fisherman gave such a glower when he approached that Hasan moved quickly on.
Outside the city the mountains rose inland and the short plain spread out ahead. Not far beyond this was the sea. Palms and other vegetation filled all uncultivated land.
Hasan climbed a steep hillside, remembering the hills of Serendip. Here he could overlook the city, seeing its square peaked temples and cl.u.s.tered residences. Tiny clouds floated above the sea, looking solid in spite of the lesson the ifrit Dahnash had taught him. A highway pa.s.sed through the city, extending beyond sight in either direction, the paral- lel lines of its wagon-tracks threading the comparatively narrow area between the mountain range and the sea.
His attention was attracted to a caravan approaching the city from the northwest. For a moment he was tempted to descend and join it, since the merchants would not yet have heard the Queen"s edict, and he knew merchant-talk; but he realized that it was traveling toward the city and would only carry him back into trouble.
Now that he had been cast out of his tranquil life of the past ten days, he envied the traveling merchants fiercely. They would enter the city and retire perhaps to all-night feasting, sitting before bowls of whipped egg and dipping tasty morsels from a common pot of boiling oil. A mush- room, a vegetable, a bit of chicken-immersed in the cooling egg froth and eaten immediately, while servants kept the pot perpetually full. The savory food alternating with warm rice wine . . . Shawahi had finally convinced him that Allah could not have meant this when He forbade intoxicants, for who could find harm in such delicious drink?
Evening was coming and Hasan was savagely hungry.
There was no one to help him, and he was foolish to dream of a banquet at such a time. He looked about, observing the richness of the land. He had foraged before, and he could do it again.
In the morning the owner politely suggested that he seek another location, and Hasan had to climb down from the elevated platform where he had spent a difficult night. He had not known what the tall structure was for; he had mounted it because the height seemed better than the richly crawling ground. Now he watched the farmer climb the hefty bamboo supports to the flat square twelve feet high and look about him at the field. Long, fine cords of fiber stretched from the platform to various parts of the field. The entire arrangement was nonsensical to Hasan-until he saw a flock of birds descend upon the growing grain and begin to feed.
The guardian grasped a cord and yanked. At the far end, near the birds, a bright grotesquely-painted banner leapt up. The birds took off in fright. The fanner let go the string and the scarecrow fell to the ground again.
Hasan smiled. Now he could see that each cord was attached to a device in a different part of the field. The birds would not raid this grain.
Farther along he came across a naked urchin squatting on a stone in a stream. The lad held a long stick with a loop at the end. A game? Hasan doubted it, for the boy was unsmiling and quite motionless. Interested, he watched, ready to learn something more while suppressing thoughts of his own predicament. The ways of these people were strange, but seemed to make good sense once understood.
The boy moved-and there, snared in the loop, was a fine fish.
Hasan came to a large leaning tree overhanging the water of a riverpool. As he rested beneath it he discovered a scroll hanging from a branch. Curious, he took it down and unrolled it. It was covered with the peculiar script of Wak that he could not read. What was it doing in such a place? If it were a message, for whom was it intended?
Probably it had nothing to do with him. Perhaps young lovers used this tree as a trysting-place, and wrote each other notes. Still, he could not avoid the feeling that it somehow concerned him, and that the matter it discussed was of extreme importance. If only he could decipher it!
He left it where it was, drawing renewed confidence from the experience in spite of his frustration: This had to be a sign, a signal of change-and his situation could hardly grow worse.
Up the river a distance two other boys were engaged in a heated debate. This was unusual, in this land, for the people were generally quite polite. They seldom spoke negatively or made a direct refusal. Buddha, it seemed, had been a pa.s.sive man (not a G.o.d, as he had a.s.sumed at first), given to harmony and peace, and his followers reflected this. Only the Queen differed, though she seemed to make up for all the manners of her subjects.
Before the lads lay two objects: a rod of shining copper engraved with many talismans, and a skull-cap of fine leather, sewn from three strips and decorated with bright silver ornaments.
"It belongs to me!" exclaimed one boy. "It"s mine!" returned the other. Their argument became a fight; they beat at each other with fists until one had a swollen eye and the other dripped blood from his nose.
Hasan stepped between them. "This is none of my business," he said, though the truth was that he was glad to worry about something so elementary as a boyish differ- ence of opinion. "But it"s a shame to see two such fine young men as yourselves get into such trouble. Is there some way I can help?"
The boys were quite satisfied to break it off, each having found his adversary equal to himself. "O Uncle," said one, "why don"t you settle our dispute, since you have no personal interest."
Bright boy. "I"ll be happy to, if I can. Tell me about it." Evidently these boys were not of the city, though they were well-dressed, and either hadn"t heard about him or didn"t care. It was nice to be involved with people again, even in so trivial a connection.
"We are twin brothers," said the second boy. "Our father was a mighty magician who lived in a cave in that mountain yonder." He pointed, as though this were an important detail, but Hasan still wasn"t sure which moun- tain he meant. One thing, however, was now clear: sorcer- er"s sons would not have been trained to settle things politely.
"He died and left us this cap and this rod," put in the first boy. "And my brother tried to claim the rod, when really it was meant for me. So you tell him to take his cap and-"
"You liar!" shouted the other. "It"s my rod!"
Hasan got them apart before any more sibling damage occurred. "Just what is the difference between these ob- jects?" he inquired. "They look equally valuable to me, though perhaps the rod, being solid copper, is worth more. Why don"t you sell them both and split the money?"
Both boys were horrified. "Sell them! You don"t know their properties," the first said. Or the second; Hasan had trouble telling them apart.
He smiled benignly. "By all means tell me their pro- perties."
"They are extraordinary," one boy said. "Our father worked on these things for a hundred and thirty-five years, until he made them perfect and equipped them with secret powers and dissolved all spells that might interfere with their action. Once he did that, he died."
How neat. "But what are their properties?"
"Each of them has a wonderful secret virtue. The rod is worth all the riches of all the Isles of Wak, and so is the cap."
"What are these virtues?"
The boys exchanged glances uncertainly.
"Now I can hardly settle your argument unless I know the facts," Hasan said, amused. "Either you tell me, or I"ll go away and let you fight some more. Maybe you both can acquire b.l.o.o.d.y noses."
The boy with the nose touched it tenderly and capitu- lated. "We weren"t supposed to tell," he said. "But the cap will make anyone who wears it invisible, and no one can see him until he takes it off."
"And the rod gives the holder authority over seven tribes of the jinn, who all are bound by its magic. When he smites it against the ground, their kings come to do him homage, and all their subjects are at his service."
Hasan subdued his laughter. " Those are very fine prop- erties, boys. Now suppose I make a contest for you to see who deserves what. The one who wins shall have the rod, and the other will have to be satisfied with the cap. Fair enough?"
"Yes!" they exclaimed together, delighted at the sim- plicity of his solution.
"Good." Hasan had to remind himself that this was a perfectly serious matter to the boys. The one who won the rod would really believe he had seven tribes of jinn at his call, while the other would be certain he was invisible. He"d probably have to humor them both. At least he could make the contest real.
He picked up a stone. "I"m going to throw this stone as far as I can. Whoever reaches it and picks it up first shall have the rod, and the loser takes the cap."