Part 13 (2/2)
”We knew not what she might be G.o.ddess of,” Aster said. ”But I deduced she might be the one favorable to weary travelers and so the food upon her altar had been left for the same, namely us, just as offerings at Fatima's shrine go to the monkeys, snakes and tigers. Therefore, at my urging, we ate that food. I've been wrong before. While I was chasing a garbanzo bean, I happened upon the pit under the altar. You can stand up full length inside the idol and speak through the little tube. I think the fat man knew all about it.”
”Speaking of food,” I said to the djinn, ”we have all been without today. I don't suppose you could-”
”That would be unethical,” the djinn replied. ”Too helpful. If the Emir discovered I had aided you in so direct a fas.h.i.+on, he would hasten to put gla.s.s splinters in my soul.”
”Is that so?” I asked, suddenly glad I was invisible. I didn't like to tremble with rage in front of so many people. ”What do you suppose he'll do to ours if you don't help us? He has not only his army and all the Divs and all their power but you as well. Your so-called kindly feelings toward us are as nothing. Very well then,” I ended ominously, not considering what the effect of my disembodied furious voice would be on my companions.
”What are you going to do?” Aster and Amollia asked in unison. Aman Akbar nipped me smartly.
”Regain the accursed bottle without delay,” I answered. ”I would have done so before except that I was more concerned with preserving our lives.”
”Pray continue being concerned for them somewhat longer then, O sister,” Amollia said. ”For the magic we possess is as nothing compared to that of the Divs. And we dare not wait to find aid for Marid Khan,” she cast her eyes down at the twitching shoulders and fly-bedeviled body of the formerly das.h.i.+ng brigand prince. ”Even now he is near death.”
”Excuses,” I fumed, my anger at the djinns contrariness overcoming the good sense in Amollia's argument. ”A Yahtzeni warrior does not listen to excuses-” Before I made myself a greater a.s.s than Aman Akbar, my speech was prevented by a yodel bursting upon us from the tree-tops. Looking up, I saw black veils sailing overhead like the wings of some great crow. This vision was accompanied by the screechings of many monkeys and at first it looked as if the veiled figure was swinging toward us on the vines. Nor was I the only one to fall prey to this misconception, for the notion of persons swinging through the trees with monkeys and bellowing loud cries has persisted in the region, and spread even unto Amollia's land. Who would dream that such a story could be born from the rather comical sight of an ordinary elderly mother flying to her son on a prayer rug activated by her religious fervor, or that the apelike cries she was reported to emit were nothing more than the desert woman's traditional half-joyous, half-mournful trilling, the zaghareet?
The carpet settled among us, and she looked about her in a perplexed and impatient fas.h.i.+on. ”Where is he?” she asked, looking from the djinn to Amollia and Aster. ”Where is my Aman? What have you done with him? Fatima said the monkeys had found him and would guide me to him if I sent my prayers to G.o.d from this rug. He must be nearby.”
Aman brushed past me and all but knocked Marid Khan from his back in his haste to rea.s.sure his mother.
The djinn meanwhile grew frenzied and smoky, crying, ”Oh, foolish woman! Oh, betrayer of my soul! Now you have done it. Why cannot members of your feeble and weak-minded s.e.x leave matters alone?”
”What are you babbling about?” Aster demanded. She looked no happier to see Um Aman than I was. are you babbling about?” Aster demanded. She looked no happier to see Um Aman than I was.
”In flying straight here, she has as much as led the Emir to us. Such a carpet as that may be observed from miles around and most particularly would have been visible from the temple. You must hasten or your enemies will be upon us like jackals on a corpse before the moon has risen.”
Chapter 12.
Midmorning the following day, shortly after we had taken the fifth right-hand fork in the road, the thudding hooves of the Emir's horses pounded behind us. We had been traveling all night on foot, for we dared not risk using the prayer rug and attracting more attention. The last faint jingle of harness faded down the left-hand road before we had traveled more than an arrow's flight from the place we had been when the first horse approached.
I swore, the djinn looked pained, and Aster cried, softly, ”We are lost!”
”No so,” I said. ”I'll enter as I left, through the lemon grove. The rest of you can wait until I return with Hyaganoosh.”
But as we stood on the rocky plain overlooking the lemon grove, Amollia turned to me. ”Rasa,” she said, ”it is in your mind to do something foolhardy, is it not?”
”I mean to recapture the bottle,” I said. The djinn, who had wafted along beside us as we ran, studied me carefully. I gave him a hard look and he discreetly dissolved into smoke and blew away.
”I shall go with you,” Amollia said. ”You will need a.s.sistance.” Her face was set and determined, her black eyes level and sober, though they stared slightly to the left of me.
Extracting the ointment pot, I dabbed my finger in very lightly. She recoiled for a moment when she felt my invisible finger swab around her eyes and down her cheeks, and then faded, but not all the way. I could spare no more ointment, for I needed enough to disguise Hyaganoosh. Amollia wavered before me, her translucent darkness giving her the appearance of a colorful spectre. In the dimness of the cave she would be very difficult to see.
”Stay right beside me,” I cautioned her as we slipped through the grove and faced the long, green-shadowed pa.s.sageway.
”Here,” she said, and handed me the end of her sash. Where the garment stretched between us, it was invisible, though the parts attached to us were not. ”I cannot keep beside you unless I know where you are.”
From the ledge above, Aman Akbar brayed. Aster and Um Aman leaped to support the body of Marid Khan as it slid from our husband's back, joining the carpet on the ground, and Aman began trotting down into the grove. We ran quickly back to meet him.
”Husband, what are you doing?” Amollia asked, stroking his ears.
I gave him the headcloth and he shook his head. ”No wives of mine shall risk themselves for my sake without my help.”
”But, husband,” Amollia said softly, ”the life of Marid Khan is upon our heads. He and the rest of our family will need you sorely if we fail. Are you not honor bound to protect them? And is it possible for you to be in two places at once?”
Aman snorted and laid back his ears. ”Argue if you will, beloved, but this matter must be as I say, for a wife must be obedient to her husband, for G.o.d has made the husband superior to her. So it is written.”
Amollia's hand fell to her side and she regarded him with a faint quizzical frown. ”Truly?” she said, her tone more amused than cowed. ”My people see it that man is of the rhino but woman of the crocodile and neither has anything to do with the other and indeed neither speaks the language of the other. Therefore, not only can there be no true commerce between them, but there can be no superiority or inferiority-only misunderstanding.”
Aster, looking extremely anxious, had scrabbled down the hill behind us. ”Sounds reasonable to me,” she said. ”Not that the Master of our philosophy would agree, but he never has a good word for women anyhow.”
”Until we have that bottle, the Emir is superior to us all,” I pointed out. ”Do you want me to try the plan my way, husband, or shall we simply submit ourselves to his mercy now?”
”Never,” Aman shook his mane, rolled his eyes, and showed his teeth. When none of us trembled with terror, he gave himself another shake and sighed deeply, saying, ”Very well. I suppose there is no need for a dung merchant to marry a battle maiden if he behaves like an a.s.s when she practices her craft. Do as you will, my fearless love. I will protect the others.” And he turned and trotted sadly back up the hill, Aster in tow. Their steps dislodged a shower of droplets from the leaves of the lemon trees.
The floor of the pa.s.sage s.h.i.+mmered with a coating of mud and water almost ankle deep. We had already turned right twice down two more pa.s.sages without encountering anyone, when the noise began. I had only a moment in which to wonder why a bird was loose in the caves, when that bird was joined by nine hundred and ninety-nine others and the promised thousand gongs, warbling and bonging rebounding off the walls of the pa.s.sages, turning corners and attacking us with the force of clubs. The slip of shadow that was Amollia slunk against the wall, hands to ears. I did likewise and hoped that continuing right turns would quickly lead us back to the women's quarters.
The heavy tread of running feet splashed through the corridor ahead of us, straight for us, and pa.s.sed. The feet were unshod and similar to those of the elephant, attached to monsters wearing the silvery livery of the Div King. They bore no arms, but were equipped instead with horns in the midst of their long blunt snouts, long tusks protruding from gray leather lips, and large yellow teeth. Their lolling tongues were broader than a man's shoulders, and their own torsos were only slightly larger, being basically in the shape of men. They waved taloned paws before them and their forked tails whipped at our legs as they pa.s.sed. Never had I beheld such a various collection of malformations.
These creatures raced past us at every turn until the corridors seemed as filled with them as they did with water. And all the while the gonging and warbling never ceased. Down one last corridor, the water covering the floor grew shallower until it dried up completely, the lengthy distance of a broad stretch of unbroken wall. Certainly this had to be the same wall that had opened into the harem but how had it opened? Amollia crashed into me while I stood there wondering. From the tunnel to the left came the heavy pounce of eight clawed paws. I rammed my finger against the door but to no avail.
I felt fingers at my belt and Amollia fanned the now translucent headcloth before her.
”Greetings, wraith of the wondrous fragrance,” the bitiger growled.
”Greetings, grandest tiger of any jungle,” Amollia replied courteously.
Hollow voices echoed from the entrance chamber. ”Hear the beast growl and rumble? What do you suppose it's onto?”
”Could have captured something. Let's go see, shall we?” And elephantine feet thumped the cave floor again.
”Oh, great bitiger,” Amollia said plaintively. ”Do not let those creatures find me.”
”Except for your smell, there's not much of you to find,” the bitiger said. ”Who are you? Are you related to that other who smelled similarly?”
”No, great bitiger. I am but a simple ghost, the spirit of one of the King's former wives. I can find no rest until I have regained a talisman which was not burned with me when I died.”
”Happy to oblige,” the tiger said, and roared the door open again for us. Amollia slipped immediately into the shadows and I shut the door in the bitiger's striped and bewhiskered face while it gazed with greedy golden eyes at the captive contents of King Sani's harem.
If the ladies had been engaged in primping before, they were in a veritable orgy of it now, with cosmetic pots, sticks, jars and bottles flying from hand to hand and spiders bearing trays of brilliant gems from which light s.h.i.+vered and splintered, and gorgeous gowns deeply trimmed in sumptuous embroideries and swirls of gold and silver thread embellished with jewels, feathers, ribbons, coins, fringe and all manner of ornamentation.
Hyaganoosh still occupied the center of the harem, but she had changed. She was more decorously dressed than before, in many layers of robes and gowns of varied hues and patterns, flowers upon birds upon teardrop swirls of rough and smooth textures, of fine fur and s.h.i.+mmering silk, and gossamer like b.u.t.terfly wings. But her hair was dressed most plainly, save for a thin diamond chain dropping a thumbnail-sized pendant between her eyes. The rest of her tresses were now strung up behind her from one of the iron rings. Moreover, a frightened and bewildered look had invaded her eyes, from which self-satisfaction had fled, to be replaced by a certain vagueness common in the expressions of the others.
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