by Jade
"A truly alarming tale, my son. But what does this have to do with the princess?" Maman asked gravely.
Aladdin choked on his water, briefly becoming a fountain before his coughing fit eased. "What princess?"
"Her Highness Princess Maram, who summoned me to the palace to give you a message," Maman said.
"What message?" he asked faintly.
Maman scrutinised his face. "You do not seem surprised that one of the Sultan's daughters would summon me, or leave a message for you."
Now he'd done it. "I met her once in the marketplace. She was very gracious."
"What was a princess doing in the bazaar?"
He could answer this without incriminating himself too much. "She had just returned from a long journey abroad, and she was on her way to the bathhouse."
"Princesses do not..." Maman's eyes widened. "Most princesses do not. Only one does. The Traitor Queen's daughter, the witch the Sultan sends abroad to enchant foreign princes." Maman shook her head. "No wonder she is so beautiful and yet unmarried. What man would want a wife who has known more men than she can count – and foreigners, at that? Unwashed, uncouth, unmannered, with no idea of proper behaviour...and they eat the strangest things!"
No stranger than Gwandoya, though he was a foreigner, too, from southern lands instead of those in the north from whence the crusaders came. But Aladdin didn't want to think about the madman. His thoughts were of Maram, and his mother's slight to the lovely woman.
"What man would deserve her," he corrected. "Beautiful, enchanting, gracious, and the Sultan's daughter. Every man desires her, whether she wills it or no. But it is her father who will not allow her to marry. She is too valuable as an envoy to ever be free."
"Careful, my son. It sounds like you are under her spell, too. If she is forbidden to marry as you say, then you risk heartbreak even thinking about her. Forget her."
Aladdin shook his head. "I cannot. And if she gave you a message for me, then she has not forgotten me, either. Maman, please tell me...what did Princess Maram say?"
She sighed. "She wanted me to tell you to present yourself at the palace, saying she commanded you to do so. But I fear that if you do, it will only result in your doom. If you are lucky, the palace guards will turn you away. If you are not lucky...it is only a matter of time before the princess tires of you, and she will have you killed or imprisoned without hesitation. Please, I beg you, do not do as she asks."
Aladdin nodded slowly. "You are wiser than you know, Maman. The palace guards will never admit a street rat into the Sultan's palace. But you have been allowed in. You have dined with the princess herself. You must go to the palace, and present a gift to the Sultan for me. If he likes my gift, then you will ask the Sultan to summon me, so that I might beg for the hand of his daughter."
"No, I cannot. The Sultan will not see me...and what gift can you possibly offer that he will accept?"
Aladdin held out a cloth-shrouded bundle, peeling the layers away to reveal the treasure beneath. A small, jewelled shrub, perhaps two handspans in diameter, glittered in the lamplight. Each berry was made up of a cluster of amethysts so dark they almost seemed black, a stark contrast to the mother-of-pearl petalled blossoms. Together with the green agate leaves, the whole thing weighed far more than a shrub should, but Aladdin thought his mother could manage it. "Give this to the Sultan as my gift, and tell him that if he allows me to make Princess Maram my bride, I will give him a whole garden of trees and bushes such as this."
"I will take it to the Sultan, and we shall see what he says," she said doubtfully. "As long as you are sure this is what you want."
Aladdin laughed. "Maman, I have never been so sure of anything. This will work. I am certain of it."
SEVENTEEN
Father had assembled what looked like his entire court, Maram reflected as she surveyed the crowded audience chamber. Ali the Vizier and horrible Hasan stood triumphantly on the dais at what would be her father's right hand, which was why she stood as far to the left as she could. But she wasn't hiding – even if she could in such a garish dress. The rose coloured gown and matching veil were richly embroidered in silver and gold. A diamond necklace matched the jewelled fillet that held her veil in place. Despite their magnificence, her diamonds were a calculated insult. She'd inherited them from her mother and they were well known, for the former Sultana had worn them to court as often as she attended.
Maram felt Hasan's eyes on her as her father's herald announced the Sultan's arrival.
Her father had a smile for her that she happily returned. Never mind that he wanted her to marry the wrong man – he had her happiness in mind, however misplaced his plans for it might be. No matter. Maram would make plans of her own.
The Sultan reached the dais and commanded the court to rise. This took a moment, as many had prostrated themselves and clothing had to be straightened. When the susurrus of silk-smoothing had died down, Father cleared his throat. "My subjects, before I hear today's petitions, I have happy news to share with you. My daughter, Princess Maram, is engaged to marry Vizier Ali's son, Hasan. The wedding will take place once Hasan has finished building a palace suitable to house my favourite daughter."
Hasan's grin died as he stared at the Sultan in horror. Ah, Father had not warned him earlier, it seemed. Maram made no effort to hide her triumphant smile as she surveyed the cheering crowd. A royal wedding meant a feast, and an excuse to show off their finery, with perhaps the opportunity to win favours from the celebrating Sultan or the newlyweds.
Only one pair of eyes appeared as shocked as Hasan's – that of Aladdin's mother, Sadaf. She stood at the back of the crowd, barely visible behind the more pushy petitioners, but she met Maram's gaze as squarely as though the two women were equals, so great was her shock.
When the cheering died down, Maram excused herself and made her way through the crowd to where she'd seen Sadaf. She needed to speak to the woman, to ask if her son had returned.
Yet when she reached the back of the audience chamber, Sadaf was nowhere in sight. Maram hurried outside, hoping to catch the woman before she left.
"You arrogant bitch. When you are my wife, I will see that you learn your place," a voice behind her snarled.
Ah, Hasan. He'd followed her out here.
"If I become your wife. You forget you have a palace to build first," Maram returned. There were a dozen guardsmen within hearing distance – if Hasan so much as touched her, they would arrest him in an instant at her command. But if she married him...he'd probably try to beat her to death. Try, and succeed.
"I'll build a brothel for the likes of you. That should be good enough for the whore to foreign pigs."
More than ever, Maram regretted letting this man live. Not for long. She'd find an assassin before sunset.
Maram smiled sweetly. "Build as many brothels as you wish. I'm sure you will need all the money you can muster to build a palace that meets my expectations. Oh, did my father not tell you? When he said you must build a palace fit for a princess, it is this very princess who will judge its quality. My place will be a palace as befits my high station. Whether it is my father's palace or yours will be up to you." She scanned the square, but it seemed that Sadaf had disappeared.
Cursing Hasan for distracting her, she headed back to her apartments. Her only consolation was that she left him cursing just as colourfully behind her.
EIGHTEEN
Aladdin didn't bother to greet his mother when she returned. "What did the Sultan say?" he asked eagerly.
Maman set her cloth-wrapped bundle down. "The Sultan said the princess is to marry the Vizier's son, and he is building a magnificent palace for her. You are too late, my son. I told you she would only bring hurt and heartbreak."
A magnificent palace...where had Aladdin heard those words before? Not from his mother, surely.
It wasn't until he sat down to the noon meal with his mother, the remains of the royal repast the djinn had brought for them the previous night, that he reme
mbered it was the djinn who'd mentioned palaces. And how he could build them.
"Maman, I need you to go back to court, and speak to the Sultan."
She stared at him. "Did you not hear what I said? She is marrying someone else, as soon as the palace is finished! Did you lose your wits out in the desert, and bring back madness in its place?"
Aladdin laughed. He did feel a little giddy, but only because he could feel happiness in his grasp. Maram had a chance at freedom – marriage to the Vizier's son would grant her that. All she needed was a suitable palace – a palace he now had the power to provide, thanks to Gwandoya. "No, Maman. I brought something far more valuable with me. Do you recall the lamp you tried to clean last night? It is no ordinary lamp. It contains a djinn."
She shuddered. "Djinn are unholy creatures, traitorous magicians who deserved to die for their crimes, but the sultan they pretended to serve was merciful and let them live on in slavery instead. If that lamp contains a djinn, you had better throw it into a deep well, where it can no longer harm you. I shall do it myself." She rose and looked about her.
Aladdin was doubly glad he'd hidden the lamp. "No, Maman. I shall deal with the lamp. I need you to speak to the Sultan. Do you still have the gift?"
Maman waved irritably at the bundle. "I wish I did not, for it is a cumbersome thing."
"Give it to the Sultan, as I asked you to this morning. Beg him to grant me a private audience tomorrow morning, when I will bring another gift, more sizeable than the first." Silently, he prayed that the djinn had not lied about his abilities. If he had, then at least Aladdin would have the garden. That was something, at least.
Maman pushed her dish away. "I am no longer hungry. I will go now, for the sooner we put an end to this folly, the better. I ask only one thing. If the Sultan refuses to see you, will you forget about the princess, and pursue more sensible things? There are plenty of merchants' daughters in the city who would happily agree to marry a handsome boy like you. I would like grandchildren."
No merchant's daughter would spare him a second glance, Aladdin knew, and nor should any princess, either. If the Sultan did grant him an audience, Aladdin would need to dress like he belonged in the palace. More to ask for. He hoped it would not be too much.
His mother departed for the palace, grumbling as long as she was in sight.
Aladdin slipped back into the house and shut the door. "Kaveh, is my mother correct? Are all djinn evil?"
Kaveh burst from the ring in a flash of blinding blue light. "What have I ever done to you that you call me evil?" he demanded.
Aladdin cast his mind back, trying to recall his mother's exact words. "Maybe not evil. Just traitorous. Are you a traitor?"
Kaveh's dark eyes burned. "There was once a sultan who called me that. Now he was evil, in the worst sense of the word. Half the kingdom wanted him dead, me included. I led the rebellion that brought the palace down on his head, crushing him beneath the stone. His successor, a man who had fanned the flames of our rebellion to white-hot heat, only to reap more benefits from it than anyone else, was my judge. He could not risk another rebellion, he said, so all traitors must be punished. Many of my men were executed, and my family had perished at the old sultan's hands, so I stood alone, the last of all of them. I expected death, but he saw fit to grant me life. A lifetime of servitude, as a servant to the ring, a punishment reserved for magic-wielders who betray their rulers. I believe he meant it as a gift to me, but a warning to everyone else that he would not tolerate treachery, for I had pledged my loyalty to the Sultan before him."
"Who or what do you serve?"
Kaveh let out a weary sigh. "I am the servant of the ring you wear, remember? As long as you wear it, I serve you."
"At what cost to me?"
A new respect dawned in Kaveh's eyes. "You must wear it always, for I will pass to the ring's new owner should you lose it. But other than that...no, I bear the cost of my servitude. The spells I cast come from the magic in my blood, blood I am bound to shed in your service and anyone else who wears the ring."
"What about the djinn of the lamp?"
Kaveh shrugged. "He is bound as I am. If you wish to know his crimes, you must ask him, for I do not know. Both of us are bound to use our magic to serve our masters, and perform whatever magic they wish of us, if we can."
"What can you do?"
"I can move things with magic, or make things unseen. I could carry you through the desert, if you commanded it, or make you invisible, but if you were to ask me to enchant this princess so that she falls deeply in love with you, that is something I cannot do. I have no aptitude for seduction magic."
"And the other djinn?"
Kaveh glared at something over Aladdin's shoulder. "Why don't you ask him? He's been listening to every word we say, but only now does he make an appearance. You should probably consider yourself honoured, for his previous master had to polish his lamp before he'd deign to help him, and even then, his gifts were tainted."
Aladdin turned, and found the second djinn standing behind him. He still towered over them both, but he evidently didn't feel the need to be as impressive as he had yesterday. Did Aladdin imagine it, or was there some sadness behind the djinn's otherwise impassive expression?
"Servant of the lamp, you said you can build me a palace. In the blink of an eye, you said. Is it true?" Aladdin demanded.
"I did not. A palace I can build, but it will take at least a night to truly be worthy of being called a palace."
Aladdin nodded. "Then I wish you to build a palace beside the one where the Sultan resides, yet more magnificent than the Sultan's. It must have...it must have..." He struggled to think of anything he knew a palace should have. He'd never been inside one before. "A bathhouse befitting a princess. Like the ancient one near the city gates. So that Princess Maram may bathe whenever she wishes without having to leave home."
The djinn's eyes widened. "The palace is not for you?"
"I wish that it could be, but no. This palace will be my gift to Princess Maram, to celebrate her marriage."
The djinn bowed low. "It shall be done, master. By dawn, you shall have your palace." He vanished.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say the man is half in love with your princess, too," Kaveh said. "He had a strange look in his eye. I wouldn't trust him if I were you."
"Says one traitor of another," Aladdin returned. Too hastily, perhaps, for he agreed with Kaveh. The nameless djinn had many secrets he had not yet shared to be trusted fully yet, if ever.
Kaveh bowed his head. "I betrayed an evil man, and I do not regret it. I would do it again. But I have served many sultans and princes since, and I have never been tempted to turn traitor again. Sometimes a man must break his own vows to do what is honourable. But the servant of the lamp...I do not know his crime, or who he betrayed. Some traitors dishonour their liege with every breath."
Aladdin nodded. Sage words from a man who by the sound of things had lived far longer than a normal man. Tomorrow, he would have his answer. But in the meantime...
"Can you make sure the palace includes a place for your garden? I would like to see it in all its glory, laid out for the princess."
Kaveh bowed and attempted to imitate the other djinn's tone: "It shall be done, master." He laughed. "Those jewels never looked right underground. By the time I am done, your garden shall sparkle in the sun like the treasure it is. You deserve it, and this princess, too."
Aladdin wanted to believe him, but he didn't dare. Not yet.
NINETEEN
"The Sultan, Your Highness," a maid announced.
Maram dropped her embroidery and rose to her feet. "Father. What an unexpected surprise."
He smiled. "I have something that will surprise even you, I think, for I find it so unbelievable I must show you to be certain I have not imagined it all." He pulled off his jewelled turban and scratched his head, a sure sign that this was no official visit.
Maram ordered refreshments and settled her father i
n the place of honour before taking her place across from him. "I feel like a child, waiting for a bedtime story," she admitted. "Will you tell your tale, Father?"
He sipped from his cup, then set it down. "I hardly know where to begin. After you left this morning, I held my usual audience. The petitions were so dull I found myself falling into a doze. If it weren't for Ali at my side, I suspect I might have snored. But he is a loyal vizier who would never let me do such a thing. An hour ago, I decided I wanted to retire, and opened my mouth to say so. Yet as I raised my eyes, they met the gaze of a woman who refused to look away. I fancied those dark eyes seemed to accuse me of something, though I knew not what. Instead of signalling an end to the audience, I told Ali I would see one last petitioner – her.
"When the guards brought her forward, at first, I thought they were mistaken. She threw herself face down before the dais, barely daring to say a word for some time. Long enough for me to see she wore mourning black, but both her veil and gown were so well-worn it had faded to grey. Cheap stuff, too, like she was one of the poorest in the city. What could one such as her wish to accuse me of? Curiosity baited me, so I commanded her to speak."
Father drained his cup and indicated he wanted it refilled.
"She raised herself onto her knees, and I found myself staring into those same eyes, but perhaps I had imagined the accusation I thought I'd seen before. Instead, now she seemed resigned. She laid a bundle at my feet and begged me to accept her son's gift."
Father waved a servant forward. The gift, if indeed that was what she carried, filled her arms, and she seemed relieved to set it down beside Maram.
"Is this it?" Maram asked, her hand hovering over the coarse cloth wrapping the item.
Father nodded.
Maram twitched back a corner of the cloth, then gasped in surprise. She peeled away the wrappings until she had revealed the whole thing, though she didn't dare touch it. To touch it would be to spoil its magnificence.