Zuleika and the Barbarian

family. You will be well rewarded for your success, I promise you, and you shall never have to worry about yourself again.' Keket bent, and kissed her daughter upon her forehead. 'Farewell, my dear. Call me if you need me.' She began to dissolve into a deep purple smoke that grew paler and paler until what was left of it made its way back into the alabaster vial. When she was gone, Golnar corked the vial, and lay down upon her bed to consider what her mother had told her.

It was all well and good for Keket to say she would be the instrument of Dariyabar's downfall, but she had not her mother's magic, Golnar thought. All she had ever wanted was to be the mother of Dariyabar's next sultan so she might have power. Now she was expected to seduce the khan and his general, and bring Dariyabar to its destruction? And what of this genie that had all that power, and might very well be guarding the kingdom? Haroun was gone, and was unlikely to ever return. I need to think of myself, Golnar considered. I still might be the mother of the next sultan, if I can seduce Amir Khan into my bed.

It was a tempting thought, and a little smile played about Golnar's lush lips. I do not want to destroy Dariyabar. I want to rule it from behind the sultan's throne. Zuleika is beautiful, but I am just as beautiful. No man is ever completely content with just one woman. That is why princes and sultans have harems. Even my merchant father had a small harem.

I must bide my time, and make certain that I am not sent from the palace. Tomorrow, I will go to the sultan and beg his forgiveness for causing such a scene today. And I will beg the princess' forgiveness too. Her heart is good, for all she is fierce and proud. Haroun always said it was so. I wonder if the feasting is over yet? She went to her windows, drew back the curtains, and opened the latticed shutters. She could hear music from the banqueting hall. They were still celebrating. She wondered if the brides and their husbands were still in the hall, or if they had retired to their nuptial beds. Yes, tomorrow she must make amends for her hysterical outburst. Golnar lay down on her bed. She thought about Haroun being whipped, and the thought was satisfying. She wished it were she who might wield that whip.

In the morning, Golnar awoke to her bodyslave knocking upon her door. Irritated with herself for forgetting she had locked the portal, she arose and opened it.

'Ohh, mistress, I was so fearful for you!' her slavewoman cried, and kissed her hand.

'Not so fearful that you disappeared last evening,' Golnar snapped. 'Word of my removal from the sultan's hall of audience must have traveled even more swiftly than the wind, for when I returned to the harem there was no one in evidence. The place might well have been deserted! Fearing for my life, I locked myself in my bedchamber. Go to the baths, and tell them I am ready for my morning ablutions.'

'Yes, mistress,' the slave replied, and scurried off.

In the baths, the slaves were silent as Golnar entered. They tended to her efficiently, and without their usual chatter. Like the prince's favorite, they had no idea what would happen now that Haroun had disappeared and the princess had returned triumphant with her khan. They dared offend no one until it was decided what was to happen.

Golnar was silent also as she was bathed, massaged, and oiled. She had to consider carefully how to remain within the palace. She was not a slave, at least. Haroun had seen her, and admired her, and asked her father for her as his concubine. Her father could not refuse, and was encouraged by his favorite wife to see that Golnar was brought to the palace as if she were a bride. The women had never particularly liked Golnar, but becoming the prince's concubine could but bring honor and glory to her husband's family. Now with Haroun gone, there was no excuse for her to remain unless she was asked. To be returned to her father's house, even with honor, was unthinkable!

She returned to her quarters, and ordered her servants to dress her carefully in sky blue silk robes. Her silver hair was dressed with small, fragrant flowers sewn to silver ribbons. Then she went to find the sultan. He was with the vizier, Abd al Hakim, but hearing she was at his door, Sultan Ibrahim told his guards to allow her to pass.

Golnar threw herself at his feet, and taking the hem of his red silk robe in her hand, kissed it.

'My lord! My lord! I beg your forgiveness for my behavior yesterday. You must understand that the great love I bear my lord Haroun precipitated my outburst. I did not realize that the princess was being wed. I am so ashamed if I spoiled her day. I hope you will forgive me, my lord sultan.' She did not look at him, and kept her head bent low.

Neither the sultan nor his vizier were fools, but they were also men with daughters, and their hearts were good.

'Arise, my dear lady Golnar,' the sultan said. 'You have my forgiveness. I know your love for my nephew.'

She stood, and there were tears in her light eyes. 'Is there… is there any word?' she quavered in a voice filled with emotion.

The sultan shook his white head. 'I am sorry, my dear. It is as if the earth opened up and swallowed him. Still we are searching every corner of the city, and the kingdom.'

'Should I return to my father's house, my lord sultan?' Golnar asked him. It was a bold move, and one that could easily backfire on her.

'I have not given up hope, my child,' the old man said. 'Until we know for certain what has happened to my nephew, you will remain in your harem as you always have. It would not do for Haroun to come home and discover that you were missing, now would it?' He took her plump hand in his, and patted it in fatherly fashion.

'Ohh, thank you, my lord sultan!' Golnar cried, the relief in her voice palpable. She bowed low to the sultan, and asking his permission withdrew from his presence.

'Are you really unknowing of Haroun's whereabouts?' the vizier, Abd al Hakim, asked the sultan.

'I am indeed, and I expect I do not want to know,' the sultan answered his old friend. 'Zuleika has promised me that they have not killed him, but also that he will not return. If I sent Golnar back to her father's house now, it would appear that I knew something, and actually I do not. Nor do I wish to know.'

'With your health so wonderfully restored,' Abd al Hakim said, 'you will reign over Dariyabar for many more years, my lord.'

'No, old friend, I will not. My health has been returned to me for but a single cycle of the moon. My miraculous restoration began on the first day of the new moon. When that moon wanes into the darkness, I will die. This I know, for the genie told Zuleika it was so.'

'Then you mean to make the khan your successor,' the vizier said.

'I do. Who else is there? And at least my blood will flow in the sultans that follow Amir, as will his. He is a strong man.'

'If your days are numbered, my lord, when will you announce this change in succession?' the vizier wondered. 'If you say it too soon, there will be those who will wonder if you yourself did not dispose of your nephew.'

'I know, and since I am unique in the knowledge that when I lie down to sleep on the last day of the waning moon I shall not awaken in this world, I shall make my announcement in the week before I die.'

'There will be some then who will believe that the khan has had a hand in your death when you leave us,' the vizier noted.

'There will always be those who believe that every coincidence is a conspiracy, my friend. It is human nature to see plots where there are none. You have been my vizier long enough to know that.'

The vizier chuckled. 'Too true, my friend. Too true. And you will leave the problem of Golnar to the next sultan, then?'

Now it was the sultan who laughed. 'I think it better that I do, don't you?'

'The princess will not be pleased,' Abd al Hakim said.

'My daughter will manage, nonetheless. She has, by a quirk of fate, been given a good husband. He is a strong man, and while he may listen to her advice, for she is wise, he will be the sole ruler of Dariyabar,' Sultan Ibrahim said.

'For now I think both our daughters will revel in their lust with these men they have wed,' the vizier chuckled. 'Ahhh, to be that young, and full of love's juices once again. Bahira can scarcely keep her hands from her general, and the looks that the princess casts in her husband's direction are fiery.'

And they were. The entire court had seen last evening how Zuleika of Dariyabar felt about the tall barbarian now her legal mate.

She could scarcely wait to leave the hall, and several times attempted to do so, but Amir Khan had prevented her, catching her hand hard, smiling at her and murmuring, 'Not yet, my princess.' Finally she had decided that if she left him, he would certainly follow.