We left with the caravan that same afternoon, hired camels and Aman Akbar carrying Aster's booty. We were now officially rug-and-silk merchants, though we had enough variety of goods to open any sort of stall we cared to. If our appearance was shabbier than that of the other merchants in the caravan, no one commented. In fact, four unaccompanied women excited a great deal of unsolicited solicitousness among our traveling companions, who seemed to be trying to look through our draperies to see if we were worth adding to their own collections.

We rode in little houses called howdahs atop the backs of camels. I suppose the idea was that being in the howdah would not only shelter one from the sun but would also serve to ameliorate the effects of the camel's rocking gait upon one's stomach. Not so. I am a good horsewoman but I am not a good rider of camels, I confess. I preferred for the most part to walk along side, though I suffered from the sun despite my abayah and sandals. By the standards of my own country my skin was well-weathered and tough, but I found I was ill-prepared for this climate: my skin burned and peeled. My temper soured and curdled. Aster declared I was more than a match for Um Aman at her worst. But if my temper put me in a poor mood to deal with my friends, it put me in an excellent one to deal with foes.

But even Amollia's good nature was somewhat taxed by the journey. Animal lover that she is, she made a perfunctory attempt at befriending the camels, but said she found their personalities only slightly more amiable than mine.

Thus we traveled for several days with the caravan, under the delusion of protection, four helpless, weak, and for my part, heat-sick females. We saw waves of sand, and waves of heat, and supercilious camel smiles, and dung-dropping camel behinds, and endured the speculative eyeball rollings and half-jeering remarks of our companions... until the brigands livened things up by sweeping down upon us and causing a carnage that quite revitalized me, despite the heat.

It happened suddenly. One moment there was nothing but sand as far as the eye could see and the next a flapping white line, like a flock of geese on the horizon. The man leading the camel ahead of ours shouted and flung out a hand, and several others shouted also and drew swords. I had retained the ornamental weapon given Aster by the Emir's wives and drew it too, just in time. The dots on the horizon rapidly grew into horses and men. The blood from the rider of the lead camel of our caravan was already spurting from his neck before my sword was drawn. All around us animals and men churned the sand and camels scattered in all directions. Single members of the deadly flock detached themselves and gave chase to the faint-hearted souls who had suddenly decided to seek another route, while the main body attacked those who stood against them. I cleaved a limb or a neck here and there but the sword was dull and unless I could pounce unexpectedly upon a brigand, I found myself without adversaries. Even the foes I wounded seemed disinclined to take me and my blunted sword seriously. By the time I looted a decent scimitar from one of the bodies, what was left of the caravan was in the hands of the attackers.

Depending upon how you look at such things, good fortune or ill dictated that we women were regarded as booty and were taken prisoner rather than slain outright, as were those of our companions foolish enough to fight for their goods.

The problems for our foes began when they attempted to take possession of us. A brigand seized Amollia, who struggled. This displeased the cat, who leaped upon the brigand, whose companion drew a scimitar and sliced at the cat. Both cat and its prey were saved only when Amollia wrenched herself from the grasp of her a.s.sailant, causing that man to fall, cat and all, to the ground. Whereupon Amollia whistled loudly and the cat bounded away and sailed over the nearest sand dune.

Our husband bucked and bit those who would steal him, behaving as might any self-respecting a.s.s under similar circ.u.mstances.

A flying bundle of draperies dragged Aster backwards from her camel at the beginning of the raid and I didn't see her till sometime later. Um Aman sensibly chose to throw herself onto the sand and pray through the whole thing.

I for my part cheerfully waded in to exchange hacks and slashes with a great many fellows who no longer could afford to ignore me. What added to my cheer was that, perhaps due to Um Aman's prayers, I avoided being wounded in the exchange. The sons of dogs did outnumber me, however, and while I was defending myself with my excellent second-hand weapon, a pair of the wretches took me from behind, one grappling my knees and the other yanking my head backwards and laying hold of my veils and hair. I was severely irritated. Say if you must that all things are fair in love and war, but having just fought a great deal of the latter, I was in no mood for even more of the former, which, unless I missed my guess, was what these thieves had in mind for us all.

My suspicions were confirmed when a brigand lay his forearm across my throat, pressed his cheek next to mine, breathing noxious fumes laden with something akin to essence of well-aged goat urine and camel milk mixed with blood (a common drink among that sort of person. It smells even worse than it sounds), growled, "Aha, this one fancies herself a man. Shall I slay her like one?"

"What? And waste all that? By G.o.d, the sun has broiled your wits at last," the other replied and s.n.a.t.c.hed my abaya askew from under his comrade's meaty arm.

'Twas my gallant spouse saved my honor, or at least delayed its loss long enough for me to save it myself.

With a stricken bray and hooves spraying sand, Aman Akbar galloped into the clutch of ruffians surrounding me. His hooves clouted them like clubs of iron and his back arched and straightened, a catapult of bucking to power his mighty kicks. All the while his awesome voice rent the desert air with its shrill clamor of a.s.s's indignation.

More with the thought of escaping being stricken by those hooves myself than of actually obtaining freedom, I ducked below the shock-loosened arm of my chief captor and sprinted across the sand-straight into the perfumed arms of the limpid-eyed, moon-faced gentleman who had been sweeping forth to peruse the results of the raid.

"Kill the d.a.m.ned donkey!" a voice behind me bellowed.

"Never mind him! That thrice-accursed woman's attacking the Khan!"

I was not. I was tripping upon my disarranged draperies and he, in his attempt to rise, was tangling them with his own and with the sword still in his scabbard. Having heard the brigand threaten Aman Akbar, I tried to free myself to race back to his defense, but as I finally extricated myself momentarily from my new complication, I saw that Amollia had preceded me. Like a great black falcon she swooped into the fray, smashing the circle surrounding our husband and throwing herself upon the man who clung to Aman's stubby mane and held a blade to our poor husband's jaw. Blood stained Aman's pale coat already but with great deftness Amollia pried the blade from the brigand's hand and sent it flying.

She wasn't able to prevail for long. In an instant another brigand flung himself upon her, and Aman Akbar shot out from under all three, galloping off to attack from yet another position. In this endeavor Kalimba joined him, her spots again streaking to stripes as she launched herself at the men with whom her mistress was locked in combat. Her ferocious scream was such, as they say in this land, to turn the hair of children gray.

And now, her prayers finished, Um Aman joined the battle. The nails of her hands raised like talons before her, her veil slipped down over one cheek, its beaded string dangling from her chin, she rushed forward in defense of her beleaguered son. The brigand atop Amollia all but lost his eyes, saving himself only by twisting aside in time to swing his arm across both of hers, rapping her across the ear.

He in turn was rapped by Aster, who sprang forth as if from nowhere, leaving a brigand behind her clutching futilely at the torn black robe she had discarded as easily as a serpent shedding its skin.

Beneath it she wore a simple blue robe, and had gathered its long sleeves into her hands. These sleeves she swung with such momentum that I saw they had weights in their tips, and using them as cudgels she felled three of the men, including the one who held her robes, almost before anyone knew she was there.

My heart sang within me. This was more like it! From a complete rout, it looked as if we might be winning. At least we were fighting. Screaming my father's battle cry I bounded forward, only to be yanked back, my own sash jerking tightly across my middle.

"Hold, my impetuous beauty," the voice behind me said with maddening calm and even gentleness. "In the name of G.o.d the compa.s.sionate and compa.s.sioning, I bid you hold."

"Hold yourself," I replied, twisting so that I might smite him. He skipped nimbly out of smiting distance. "I have a battle to fight here."

"So I see," he said, and inserted two fingers between his lips, blowing a loud, piercing whistle. "Cease, by G.o.d, as your commander I bid you, cease this warring against women and beasts!"

"They started it," one of his men protested.

"By G.o.d, we did not-" Um Aman began angrily. But the commander whistled again, silencing them all.

"Hearing and obeying," the men mumbled with various degrees of meekness, and the one who had obtained a firm grip around Amollia's bosom lowered his arms until they sedately encircled her waist instead.

"For shame!" the leader scolded. "Do you think we are common brigands to-"

"As a matter of fact..." I began. He glowered at me.

"You dishonor the principles for which we fight. Rich merchants to fatten our war chests are one thing. Women fighting for their lives and virtue-"

"And winning," I growled. I was angry at having to stop while we were ahead.

"Are another. Ah, ah, ah, ah!" He shook a finger admonishingly at a fellow with a scar cutting diagonally across a face that probably hadn't inspired songs to its beauty before but now gave him the fearsome aspect of having two noses, "Touch not the loyal a.s.s, nor yet the lion. These n.o.ble beasts but defended their helpless mistresses, thereby preserving us from committing a great wrong. Ladies, lay down your weapons. Come to my tents where you may cool yourselves in the shade while we tend your wounds."

Accepting an invitation was not the same thing as being captured. I realized, when the hot blood that rose in my veins during battle ceased surging against my throat, that we could not have won. There were vast numbers of these men and we had escaped murder at their hands only because of the benefit they hoped to gain by reason of our s.e.x-whether to slake their own l.u.s.ts or to sell us as slaves. Their master seemed of a different mind and I saw no reason to antagonize him. We could not fight indefinitely nor could we flee into the desert without camels or water so it seemed best to accept his hospitality.

Um Aman took this to extremes. Upon ducking into the dimness of the man's tent, she immediately threw herself across the rich carpets spread on the sand and sprawled beside a lady who was turning a handmill. The startled woman fell back on her heels and Um Aman grasped the handle and cried, "I lay an ar ar upon you to protect my family and the family of my son. A thousand virulent curses smite you if you dishonor us." upon you to protect my family and the family of my son. A thousand virulent curses smite you if you dishonor us."

In doing this, she evoked another of the customs of her people. A woman whose protector is absent may claim protection from another man by doing as Um Aman did, throwing herself upon the mercy of her host. Though women ordinarily did not choose to appeal to those who murdered their escorts, I suppose, the custom was not without practical merit. For the appeal to the man's n.o.bler instincts was backed by the promise of messy, painful and inconvenient occurrences which would befall him should he fail in his duty toward his involuntarily acquired obligation.

Our host was clearly put out. "Where is this son of yours that he cannot protect his own family?" he demanded.

"You know very well where he is, oh my chosen protector," Um Aman replied smugly. "He is tethered outside with your animals."

"Tethered?" the two-nosed brigand asked, horrified. "Great Khan, I swear to you, we slew all the men but we didn't tether anybody! No one, that is, but the a.s.s."

Aster hung her head with a childish sadness calculated to melt hard brigand hearts and said, "That is no a.s.s, that is our husband."

The leader, called Marid Khan, sat down abruptly, missing the cushion he had aimed at and rubbing his hip as he regarded us. He bit into an apple and chewed for a while before asking, "And what manner of women are you, helpless ones, to be married to and the mother of an a.s.s?"

"Whoever they are, Marid Khan," one of the men commented as he dressed the scratches inflicted by Um Aman's nails upon one of his fellows, "they fought as tigers."

"One of them is is a tiger," Two Noses pointed out and addressed Um Aman directly, "Is she your daughter too, old woman?" a tiger," Two Noses pointed out and addressed Um Aman directly, "Is she your daughter too, old woman?"

"Enough," the Khan said, gesturing us all to sit, for women had begun pouring into the tent bearing with them viands whose odors immediately dispelled any desire I might have had to make or listen to lengthy explanations.

Marid's chosen profession required a lot of moving, and with this we, as new members of his tribe, were expected to help, as well as with the spinning, weaving, cooking and other tasks. I felt comforted by the familiarity of these tasks, much as I disliked them.

We traveled in not only dangerous but exalted company, for not only was Marid Khan no ordinary brigand; he was a rather extraordinary rebel prince. His people had roamed the desert freely in the time of the Emir's predecessor and had traded peaceably with the city folk. Marid himself had been sent to Kharristan as a boy to be educated and to learn courtly manners. But upon the ascension of the Emir Onan to the governorship of Kharristan, the favored position of Marid Khan and his people changed for the worse. Around the same time, problems developed between the throne and Marid's people. Some aunt of Marid's had disappeared from the King's harem and the mutterings were that she had been slain.

Marid's stance as leader of his people was to enrich them and gain honor and status in the kingdom by relieving the city of much of its excess wealth. What he would do once he was rich wasn't really clear, but everyone was delighted with the loot obtained by robbing the caravans and so far no one had thought to question his plans beyond that point. He was, after all, a relatively young leader. To make war and gain prosperity seemed like a good start.

The men of this tribe were not the only warlike ones. The women were constantly quarreling among themselves, a practice they discontinued only long enough to torment us. I had begun to think that all women in these lands liked the idea of sharing husbands, but rapidly learned I was in error. Amollia's amiable att.i.tude toward polygamy was far from universal. Though men liked to have as many wives as they could afford, the women felt that the only way to ensure being first in the affections of their husbands was to be the only spouse. Three apparently unattached and unrelated young women were therefore most unwelcome to the other women. The wives were afraid their husbands would decide to take one of us as an additional wife. The single women liked us even less, for Marid Khan was very eligible indeed and might decide to choose one or more of us over the girls who had hopes of winning him for themselves.

Nor were they wrong, for before long I noticed Marid casting longing looks in Aster's direction. One evening shortly thereafter, when she was overlong fetching a waterskin, I found her near where the animals were tethered. She was engaged in a hair-pulling, face-scratching contest with three of the unmarried women who shared our tent. This was not my sort of fight, and I would have left her to it except that one of the others pulled a knife. I had no trouble disarming her without harm to anyone, but she made a great deal of noise and a crowd gathered.

Um Aman, Amollia and Marid Khan were among those gathered. Marid Khan grunted something harsh to the other women and they ran off.

"Is this how you protect us, mighty prince?" Um Aman demanded.

Marid Khan was not accustomed to reprimand. "The girl had no business out here alone anyway."

Aster had lost only a small patch of hair while gaining four parallel scratches down one cheek. She seemed to feel that by being the last one left at the scene of the battle she had won for she tossed her tangled hair and watched with glinting eyes while her adversaries departed. Now she turned to Marid Khan and tried to look piteous. "I was but being a dutiful wife and taking a bit of fruit to my poor husband, mighty Khan," she protested.

"Don't start that again!" Marid warned her. "It is you women who are under a spell, not that simple a.s.s. You are to stay away from that beast, do you hear me, or I will have it killed."

"The ar ar I placed upon you covers my son too," Um Aman reminded him. I placed upon you covers my son too," Um Aman reminded him.

"Ars cover people, not livestock," he told her. "Mind what I say." cover people, not livestock," he told her. "Mind what I say."

We had to return at once to the sleeping tent, but when everyone else was facing one direction, Amollia turned briefly and pointed, and the cat who followed her like part of her skirts streaked back to the place where Aman was tethered.

The four of us settled close to one side of the tent that night while all the other women hugged the opposite side. We shared the largest of the carpets we had gleaned from our visit to the Emir's palace. Marid Khan had granted that we keep it, along with our personal jewelry and other small loot Aster managed to conceal in her sleeves. Um Aman quickly fell into a muttering sleep, but Amollia, Aster and I waited until the other women slept. We were far from certain Aster's a.s.sailants would not repeat their attack in the night. Outside, the last few cooking fires winked out one by one.

When the tent began filling with smoke, I thought for a moment one of them had gotten out of hand, for I did not at first recognize the djinn in his vaporous form. But very quickly the smoke solidified into his familiar rotund figure, and he bowed.

"Greetings, infidels," he said to the three of us. "I must say you have certainly led me a merry chase."

"You have great nerve to speak of us leading you, djinn," Aster replied, whispering. "I hope you are proud of yourself to drive poor frightened women from the comforts of the city by reason of your master's greed and l.u.s.t."

"Slant-eyed one," he said. "Thou hast so far heard nothing. Indeed, it is through benevolence that I seek thee out-to warn thee that thou and thy comrades had best adjust yourselves to the fact that soon my master will discover all of the import of your thievery."

Chapter 7.

"Thievery!" Aster cried indignantly. "You forget yourself, djinn. If you think our transactions with the Emir's wives were thievery, you obviously know nothing of the craft."

"Let us say then," the djinn began, steepling his pudgy fingers and rocking back and forth on the smoke below his billowing trousers, "that you removed from the house of the Emir certain items."

"Gifts freely given us by his ladies," Aster shrugged defensively. "Trinkets. Tokens of their esteem. Nothing more."

"Aha!" the djinn cried. "The faithless wenches gave gave you their husband's treasures, did they? No wonder it has taken him so long to wonder where all of the missing items have disappeared to. Summer cleaning indeed! I knew it all along. Fortunately for both you and his wives, the Emir has followed his usual pattern of disregarding my great wisdom and has yet to ask you their husband's treasures, did they? No wonder it has taken him so long to wonder where all of the missing items have disappeared to. Summer cleaning indeed! I knew it all along. Fortunately for both you and his wives, the Emir has followed his usual pattern of disregarding my great wisdom and has yet to ask me me to locate that which he deems lost." His small eyes narrowed to become even smaller and he said in a rather oily tone, "You have been very foolish little women, but you are new to our land and its customs. Therefore I will once more be kind to you and suggest that I can see that you are no longer interfered with. If I must wait until my master commands me to deliver to him his property and the thieves thereof, it will go hard on you. Whereas if you give me that same property to return now, we can avoid exposing your tender and ignorant persons to this man of strong power and weak character, for I can a.s.sure thee, in particular, Lady Aster, that once he learns who has purloined his possessions he will demand the addition of thee as interest on his loan of them to thee or else have thee put to death." to locate that which he deems lost." His small eyes narrowed to become even smaller and he said in a rather oily tone, "You have been very foolish little women, but you are new to our land and its customs. Therefore I will once more be kind to you and suggest that I can see that you are no longer interfered with. If I must wait until my master commands me to deliver to him his property and the thieves thereof, it will go hard on you. Whereas if you give me that same property to return now, we can avoid exposing your tender and ignorant persons to this man of strong power and weak character, for I can a.s.sure thee, in particular, Lady Aster, that once he learns who has purloined his possessions he will demand the addition of thee as interest on his loan of them to thee or else have thee put to death."

"You seem to know his intentions rather well even though, as you claim, he has not consulted you," I remarked.

"Service is my life," the djinn replied modestly. "Therefore, if I can quietly return to the Emir these things you hold-"

"If we save you all that trouble," Aster said, overriding him. "It seems to me that you should do something for us in return."

"Aiyeeah! Why did my former master choose to marry horsetraders of every nation? Foolish woman, I seek to do thee a service!"

"And so you can. In return for those items you want, which will cause us considerable trouble to take back from Marid Khan (if indeed we can get them) and which must be worth something if the Emir desires them so much, you must revoke Aman's curse."

"Only she who invoked it may revoke it," he said primly.

"Then you must help us reunite Hyaganoosh and your bottle long enough that she she may cause you to lift the curse from him." may cause you to lift the curse from him."

"That would be just," the djinn agreed. "Particularly if she transferred the curse to you, stubborn creatures that you are. However, I can do no such thing, even if I wished to do so, while the Emir holds the bottle."

"But you can come here on your own, without his knowledge," Aster said, swinging her arms in a wide swing. "I find this very strange."

The djinn gazed at her owlishly. "Dost thou really? I find that that very strange. For thou of all people should now realize that once a wine is decanted, the full flavor cannot be recaptured until the spirits are resealed once more in the bottle." Had the heat of the desert overcome the djinn, that he should speak to us of wine when we were talking of magic? It seemed so, for though he had been about to say more he suddenly stopped, wafted lightly backwards and began to fade. "Excuse me, thou art correct, of course. What if my master called me and I wasn't there? Why-er-naturally, I must be going. But consider our bargain and I will try to speak of this with you later-" and he quickly dissolved and cleared the tent. very strange. For thou of all people should now realize that once a wine is decanted, the full flavor cannot be recaptured until the spirits are resealed once more in the bottle." Had the heat of the desert overcome the djinn, that he should speak to us of wine when we were talking of magic? It seemed so, for though he had been about to say more he suddenly stopped, wafted lightly backwards and began to fade. "Excuse me, thou art correct, of course. What if my master called me and I wasn't there? Why-er-naturally, I must be going. But consider our bargain and I will try to speak of this with you later-" and he quickly dissolved and cleared the tent.

We had no chance to forget the so-called bargain, nor to honor it, for the matter was taken from our hands. I thought I felt a disturbance in the tent during the night, but so weary was I by the time I finally slept that the faint rush of air and moonlight, as of the tent flap raising and lowering, disturbed me not. Nor later, as it must have been, when something touched my lips and instantly soothed me into a deeper, more profound sleep. And not only I but the others Marid Khan had sworn to protect slept like the dead while around us our shelter was removed so that when we awoke it was from the heat of the sun baking down upon us. Tent, carpets, cushions and camp had all stolen away in the night, taking everything but our clothing and the rug we were lying upon, even the animals-including Aman Akbar and the cat.

Um Aman opened one eye and began to wail more loudly than ever she had done outside my bedchamber when Aman and I were making love. "You wretched girl!" she shrieked at Aster. "Now see what you've done! They've cast us out! I ensured our protection and you have offended our hosts and ruined it all."

"A thousand pardons, old mother," Aster yawned, wincing slightly as she stretched her bruised arms and blandly surveyed the vast, empty desert. "I should have let them beat me senseless, I suppose?"

The inside of my mouth tasted of a strange bittersweetness, and my lips were coated at the center with a sticky substance. Amollia picked at her teeth with her finger and examined the finger afterward. "Umm," she said, nodding to herself. Aster and I stared at her, waiting for an explanation. Um Aman continued to wail. "This little bit of red flesh and seed-" Amollia said. "How strange to find the fruit of slumber so far from home."

"How strange indeed and how inauspicious," Aster said, sighing and pulling her legs up under her to sit crosslegged on the rug.

"Ign.o.ble and cowardly is what it is," I said contemptuously. "I thought better of the empty-headed wretches when they tried to fight openly and honestly, as decent folk should."

"You wouldn't have if you'd gotten the rough end of their camel prods," Aster a.s.sured me. "But I'm surprised Marid Khan didn't miss us. No doubt he'll be heading back this way as soon as he discovers we're gone."

Amollia shook her head sadly and lay back down on the rug, drawing her knees up to her chest. "Not if they told him about the djinn."

Apparently not all of our tent mates had slept through the visit of our husband's former servant. Marid Khan feared Um Aman's curse. How much more would he fear a djinn? Enough to abandon to starvation, heat and thirst four already less-than-welcome guests? So it seemed.

Aster sighed. "I suppose there is no hope for it but that we must start walking back to the city. Maybe we will find a water bag someone has forgotten on the way. Maybe even some other travelers who will take us with them if we give them our rug. Maybe-"

"Maybe we'll get lost," Um Aman wailed.

"Once more, a thousand pardons, venerable one," Aster said. "I failed to realize that we are now safe and comfortable. Perhaps in your aged wisdom you would like to tell us that over the next dune is another city whose amba.s.sadors will be coming along shortly to carry us within its walls in all style and luxury? Or perhaps you know where there is a great river nearby that will be flowing past us any moment now?"

Um Aman's reaction to the mockery was predictable. After she slapped Aster smartly, she began wailing again, though more hoa.r.s.ely by now.

Amollia patted her shoulder and made clucking sounds but the old woman shook her off. "I'm not weeping. I have better sense than to waste the water of my tears on the jibes of a tart like that one. You girls are all so young, and you don't know the ways of the desert as I do. No worse calamity could have befallen us. I have been a good woman all my life, a pious woman. Why has this happened to me? Oh, I wish to G.o.d we were safely out of here in some green and pleasant place where my poor son could be reunited with his loving mother without fear of harm from Emirs or djinns or any of this rich man's nonsense!"

Until then, I confess, I had not taken the local religion seriously. I had seen Aman Akbar in the prayer house and certainly Um Aman said loudly and often how she felt about her G.o.d-but until that point I had had no idea how the G.o.d felt about her. Most of ours didn't pay us much attention, except to let us win a skirmish or live through the winter with fewer deaths than usual if our sacrifices pleased them and we performed every word and gesture of the rituals correctly. If things go badly, we a.s.sume we've fouled up the formula somewhere or that the sheep sacrificed wasn't fat enough or had some hidden disease, or our enemies were offering a better one or more powerfully rendered prayers. But never, never in my lifetime or in any of the stories of my people was there an incidence of someone but invoking the name of a G.o.d and-whoosh-the G.o.d picks up the rug the worshipper is sitting on and whisks her off to safety. And not only the worshipper but all of the non-worshippers with her. I began to think kindly of this G.o.d.

Actually, it didn't exactly whisk but rose gently from the desert, considerately, for it was a large rug and there were four persons for it to balance without spilling. It remained level at all times but rippled very slightly beneath us.