“Mother, Father, do you have to do that in front of my friends?” Abu grimaced and shook his head.
“Sorry, son.” Aladdin gave Abu his best contrite expression. “We shall try to refrain.”
Abu ran off, and Aladdin winked at Kirstyn.
She glanced around. This was always her dream, her purpose, and exactly what she had hoped for. All the times she’d gone on walks with Aladdin, sharing her thoughts with him and their friendship as children, even then it was as if she’d foreseen this very scene of love, joy, and family.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This story needed, and received, lots of input from people who helped me realize my vision of an Aladdin story. I want to thank all those people for their help. I want to particularly thank Julee Schwarzberg and Jocelyn Bailey for their very insightful editorial feedback, which was spot on. I also want to thank Natasha Kern for her diligence, going above and beyond in helping with the editing process as well, opening my eyes to areas I had not paid enough attention to, which proved invaluable. Thanks also for Kimberly Carlton and her insight and helpfulness. This book, perhaps more than any of my others, truly benefitted, and would not have been complete, without all of these great editing minds. Though its shortfalls are definitely mine.
I want to thank all my friends who have been so supportive—Regina Carbulon, with her indomitable positivity, support, and encouragement; Mary Freeman, for always being willing to provide me with tea and a listening ear; Kathy Bone, for her friendship, humor, and petit fours; Grace and Faith Dickerson, for their brainstorming help and feedback; Suzy Parish, for praying for me; Terry Bell, for brainstorming with me; and Julie Mouvery, for being a great prayer warrior.
Thanks to all my readers—for encouraging e-mails and messages, writing and posting reviews, telling your friends about my books, and for all the other ways you bless me. I pray this story has special meaning to you, as it did for me. God bless!
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1.Even as a small child, Aladdin knew stealing was wrong. He grew up feeling shame over this part of his life. What about your childhood, either positive or negative, has become ingrained in your identity and how you see yourself?
2.Why did Aladdin and Lady Kirstyn form such a bond? Was there something in each of them that met a need in the other?
3.Why did Aladdin leave Kirstyn and Hagenheim? Why didn’t Kirstyn have her father order him to stay?
4.What was it that Aladdin wanted out of life? What was driving him to seek his fortune and to try to gain the approval and admiration of those around him?
5.What roles did Herr Kaufmann play in Aladdin’s life? If this was a parallel to other versions of the Aladdin story, who would Herr Kaufmann be?
6.Why did Lady Kirstyn believe she wasn’t talented or extraordinary? How was she different from her brothers and sisters? Was her estimation of herself accurate?
7.Why did Michael kidnap Lady Kirstyn? Whom did he want revenge against?
8.What do you think of Anna’s decision to stay with Michael? Was she also desperate for acceptance, just as Aladdin was? In what ways did they handle this desire differently? What would you do if your desire for acceptance ever lured you into a toxic relationship?
9.How did Kirstyn deal with her captivity? What were the emotional scars she dealt with after it was over?
10.Why did Aladdin agree to marry Grethel, even though he didn’t love her? Have you ever done something you didn’t want to do just to please someone else?
11.Aladdin once said, “I’m not perfect. But I wish I was.” Do you ever feel this way? In what ways did Aladdin’s wish to be perfect affect his life? Was he afraid God wouldn’t love him if he wasn’t perfect?
12.Why was Kirstyn so angry with Aladdin for not coming to see her right away after he came back to Hagenheim? What were the fears that kept Aladdin away?
13.What does the Bible say about how we should treat orphans and foreigners?
14.Aladdin’s wish was to make his fortune. In what ways did he accomplish this goal?
AN EXCERPT FROM THE HUNTRESS OF THORNBECK FOREST
1
The year 1363, in the northeast German reaches of the Holy Roman Empire, the Margravate of Thornbeck
The tip of the arrow found its mark, a perfect shot through the deer’s heart and lungs. The animal took two steps forward, then a side step, and fell over.
Odette’s five men—more boys than men, as they were around thirteen or fourteen years old—darted out of the cover of the bushes and ran toward the animal that would feed at least four families. They began to cut it apart and prepared to carry it, and all evidence of it, away in their leather game bags.
But far more than four hungry families and many orphaned children inhabited the town of Thornbeck, so Odette motioned to the two boys looking to her. They set off deeper into the forest that was the margrave’s game park. The only one reaping the good of Thornbeck Forest, rightfully, was the margrave. He could spare a few deer to feed the poor. He could spare them quite well.
Odette moved through the trees and undergrowth, trying to step as quietly as possible. The two boys stayed behind her. The moon was full, the night sky was clear of clouds, and enough light filtered through the trees to help her find her way to another of the harts’ favorite feeding spots. Either a salt deposit was there or the grass was particularly sweet, because that was where she often found her most desired prey—fully grown red deer—with their necks bowed low as they ate.
Odette came within sight of the spot and crouched to wait, holding her longbow and an arrow at the ready. Soon, a hind moved soundlessly into the small clearing. Odette’s fingers twitched in anticipation of the meat that would assuage the hunger of many people, but the twinge of pity that pinched her chest kept her from raising her bow and taking aim. It was summer, tomorrow being St. John the Baptist Day, and the hind no doubt had at least one newborn fawn, possibly two or three, hidden away somewhere, waiting for her to come back and nurse them.
Creating more orphans, even of the animal kind, went against everything Odette strove for, so she resisted taking the shot. Instead, she sat waiting and watching. After a few minutes, her breath stilled as a large stag with huge antlers stepped up beside the hind. He kept his head high as he seemed to be listening.
Odette swiftly raised her bow and pulled the arrow back. She pressed her cheek close to take aim and let the arrow fly.
Just at that moment, the stag must have caught wind of her or heard a noise because he turned and leapt away in one fluid movement, and the hind was less than a moment behind him. Odette’s arrow missed them and disappeared in the night.
With the boys behind her, she went to search for the arrow. She did not want the margrave’s forester finding it. She was careful to poach only one or two large animals a night, and it was important to take away all evidence that they had been there.
Where was that arrow? Odette went to the spot where it should have landed, beyond where the deer had been standing. She hunted around the bush, then parted the leaves to peer inside and underneath, searching for the white feather on the end. She felt around on the ground. No white feather and no arrow.
Her men were searching a little farther away. Suddenly, she heard laughter. She lifted her head, much like she had seen the deer do many times, and listened. Her two men looked at her, their eyes wide.
Voices drifted toward them, too far away for her to make out the words, but they seemed to be growing nearer. She clenched her teeth. Why couldn’t she find that arrow? With reluctance, she motioned for the young men to follow her and moved away, back toward the town. She couldn’t let anyone see her here, not with a longbow and a quiver of arrows on her back. The penalty for poaching was imprisonment, being fastened in the pillory in the town square, or having one’s hand or ear cut off.
The voices likely belonged to people looking for special herbs and flowers to burn in the Midsummer bonfire the next night. Tomorrow even more people would be out in Thornbeck For
est, wandering into the margrave’s game park. It would be too dangerous to go out hunting at all. If only she had not missed that stag.
She backtracked toward the three men she had left to take the hart she had killed earlier. They were hoisting the various pieces of meat over their shoulders and across their backs to carry out of the forest. They paused to kick the leaves and dirt over the bloody evidence of their kill.
As Odette approached, they turned and froze.
“It’s me,” she whispered. “We need to leave. People are coming this way.”
They nodded as one of them dragged a tree limb over the ground to further disguise the evidence of their kill.
Just before they reached the edge of the forest, Odette pulled an old gray cloak out of her pouch and used it to cover her longbow and arrows, tucking them under her arm. She called to the young men, “Wait.”
They stopped and looked at her.
“Give me one of those bags. I will deliver it.”
They exchanged glances. Then the tallest boy said, “Rutger said we should deliver all the game to his storehouse, for him to distribute.”
“I will tell him that I delivered this bag.” She lifted a heavy haunch of venison off his shoulder. “He will not mind.”
The boys continued on, but Odette, dressed as a boy with a long dark tunic and hose, her blond hair hidden inside her hood, went in a different direction.
She headed for the little hut just outside the town wall, a place where many of the poorest people lived in makeshift shelters. She knocked on the house that was leaning to one side and held up with sticks, and little Hanns opened the door, peeking around the side and rubbing his eyes with his fist.
“I’m sorry for waking you, Hanns.”
“Odette!”
“Shh.” She put her finger to her lips, then whispered, “I brought you something. In the morning you will have some fried venison for breakfast. How does that sound?”
Hanns stopped rubbing his face, his mouth fell open, and his eyes got round. As Odette held out the leather bag, the air rushed out of him with an excited, “Oh!”
“Don’t wake your mother now. You can surprise her in the morning.”
“I will!” Without closing the door, he turned and, straining to carry the heavy meat, disappeared inside the dark one-room, dirt-floor house.
Odette closed the door and turned to hasten home while it was still dark.
The story continues in The Huntress of Thornbeck Forest by Melanie Dickerson.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jodie Westfall Photography
Melanie Dickerson is a New York Times bestselling author and a Christy Award winner. Her first book The Healer’s Apprentice won the National Readers’ Choice Award for Best First Book in 2010, and The Merchant’s Daughter won the 2012 Carol Award. Melanie spends her time daydreaming, researching the most fascinating historical time periods, and writing stories at her home near Huntsville, Alabama, where she gathers dandelion greens for her two adorable guinea pigs between writing and editing her happily ever afters.
www.MelanieDickerson.com
Twitter: @MelanieAuthor
Facebook: MelanieDickersonBooks
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