Harem Of Aman Akbar Part 3

My satisfaction diminished and I suspected she might have had the last word after all when I saw Aman creep out the gate. There was what looked like a gaping black hole or a great shadow with no object to cast it in the middle of the wall beside the gate. A last quick look over his shoulder from Aman caused me to brush against this shadow, and discover the substance of it, which was cloth. The cloth of the same black draperies about which I had earlier been admonished. I swept up an armful of them and squeezed through the closing gate as Aman's back retreated down the street, rounding the corner beyond our palace wall.

Um Aman's stature increased considerably in my eyes as I struggled to don the disguise afforded by the draperies while attempting to walk and keep an eye on my husband at the same time. The veil does not hook on either side of the head covering but is rather a portion of the head covering itself and must either be held in place with one's hand (I tried, to no avail, to tuck it over my ear, causing the whole business to bare my head.) or secured with one's chin.

I was fortunate, in this venture, that Aman Akbar, a rich man who could well afford a fine stable of steeds, was not partial to conducting his errands on horseback. Perhaps he did not know how, being a man from humble origins in a city where humble men walked or went nowhere. Except for the enc.u.mbrance of the cloak, I followed him easily enough through the shadowy streets, grateful for the marvels of munic.i.p.al lighting I had noticed the first morning I followed him.

We pa.s.sed the palace where Aman prayed, and followed the market street through which I had been chased by the soldiers, coming at length to another long white wall, above which rose tiled domes and spires and through whose latticed windows soft colored lights gleamed. The heady perfumes of night-blooming flowers lifted across the walls, teasingly.

I melted into a shadow as from his sash Aman drew the bottle and from the bottle the cork. Smoke billowed and the djinn loomed above him. "I told thee that finis.h.i.+ng thy harem was thy final wish and to bother me no more."

"Ah, that would be so," our husband replied, "if indeed my harem was finished. But as my mother keeps telling me, the house and my other women are but a setting for the central jewel, my cousin, Hyaganoosh, dwelling within these walls."

"I thought thou disliked women of thy own kind, despising them as uninteresting."

"I've changed my mind."

"Thy shrew of a mother got to thee, did she not?"

"My mother has nothing to do with it. She is a wonderful woman who has always done everything for me. Why should I deny her the company in her own household of this girl she treasures so much if it will shut her-give her pleasure? She's just reminded me of what a charming girl my little cousin used to be. If only you can get me into Hyaganoosh's chambers, I'm sure I can convince her to come with me as my bride."

"What will she think of thine other brides?"

"Well, as my mother has pointed out, while those women are married to me according to the customs of their peoples, I am not exactly married to them according to our own ways. Thus far they are, by our law, concubines. Surely Hyaganoosh will not object to them as such, and if she does, I will take some of the treasure you have given me and build them a new house, and she need never know. But by law I am allowed four wives and four wives I intend to have, G.o.d willing."

"Oh, very well. Never let it be said I do not give full value. But thou hast been wily indeed in extracting several wishes for the one and though I must say it has been a pleasure to serve a master who uses his power over me with such cleverness, think not to prolong thy hegemony by so much as a wistful thought hereafter. I intend to sleep a good long time when thou art done with me."

"O djinn, would I trick you? Only deliver me to the chambers of my cousin and let me win her heart and you shall be quit of me."

I was ready to be quit of him right there, after that perfidious speech, and would have told him so except that no sooner had he finished speaking than the smoke drifting at the djinns ankles belched upward, enveloping both master and servant. When it had dissipated from the ground, so had they. A wisp of gray curled up over the wall and across a wide open area to disappear between the carved marble vines of a centrally located window. After a short pause I heard a faint surprised squeak, and then nothing.

Though I strained my eyes and ears, from that position beyond the wall, I could see or hear nothing intelligible. The squeak was followed by a hush, the hush by a distant creaking, and the next noise I heard did not drift out the window but rather seemed to be from somewhere on a level similar to my own. It was also a fainter noise and more m.u.f.fled, sounding like a giggle. I heard little more for several hours, during which I imagined all I would say and do to Aman Akbar and also to Hyaganoosh if he brought her forth. I also imagined what they might be doing there in that palace, but the truth of that I was not to learn for some time. Still I could hear in my mind, if only there, Aman's blandishments to his cousin, and her coy protests. They naturally had to speak softly, for the measured steps of a sentry patrolled the other side of the wall by which I waited. Only that sentry's pacing kept me from doing some of my own, for I feared alarming the guard to my presence and that of Aman, for whom the wrath of a guard was entirely too gentle.

I slept not at all. I swear it. Nevertheless, shortly before dawn, my eyes, which I had been resting, snapped open and my head, lolling on a stiff neck, jerked up. A short distance from me a gate crashed open, flung wide by a soldier with a stick in his hand.

"Go on, now, out with you, accursed one! And thank your donkey's G.o.ds for a lady's soft heart that you weren't flayed alive! The Emir takes his rose garden seriously!"

Only stillness answered at first and the guard retreated from the door for a moment. The swish of his switch sounded three times, and the third time was followed by indignant and heartsick braying as an a.s.s whiter than the whitest lamb galloped out of the gate and down the cobbles. I leaned incautiously away from the concealing shadows to watch. The guard, following the donkey out the gate a pace or two and slapping the stick against his palm in a satisfied fas.h.i.+on, spotted me.

This armsman was a far more considerate fellow than the one who a.s.saulted the woman at the gate. He gestured to me, smiling, and pointed down the road after the donkey, calling, "You there, woman! There's a nice bit of livestock for you if you care to lift your heels before prayers. Get a move on! Chase it! Its owner will never have the nerve to claim it after it invaded the harem gardens. Only put a rope around its neck and you can beg from donkeyback from now on."

There was little I could do but pretend to agree, and run after the donkey while putting as much distance as possible between myself and the guard. Aman Akbar would have to extricate himself as best he could. Perhaps indeed the djinn had already smoked both Aman and his cousin back to the palace. Perhaps had even installed her in my chambers.

I began to chase the donkey in earnest, not a difficult task since the beast and I appeared to have adopted the same route and the white of its coat was easy to follow even in the dim light of a new morning. A woman with property of her own was someone to reckon with, someone with bargaining power. Whatever trials the new object of my husband's affections might mean for me, I meant to face them riding rather than walking. The G.o.ds were with me for as I pantingly neared Aman's palace, I saw that the gate had swung open and the donkey's tail was disappearing inside. I sped after it and stood, gasping for breath, in the courtyard, as the poor animal likewise stood with heaving sides, its eyes rolled back so that they seemed as white as the rest of it.

Aman had to be around somewhere, else why would the door be open, but I could not see him. I hurriedly slipped off the abayah and hung it where I had found it. The most prudent course of action seemed for me to return to my own chambers and pretend to sleep, for these people were entirely capable of claiming that I was guilty of treachery if they discovered I had been out at night. I would tend the beast first, however. The poor thing had dragged its hooves over to the pool beneath the spurting fountain and was lapping at a rate that would surely sicken it.

"There, my dear, there," I said into one long ear, tugging it gently. "Come away now and let Rasa rub you down."

But instead of submitting gratefully to my attentions, as I might have expected, the beast let forth an ear-splitting bray that rocked me backwards on my heels. "EEE-YAW!" it said.

I stretched my hand forward while keeping my distance otherwise, and the animal lunged at me, braying loudly and plaintively.

"EEE-YAW, EEE-YAW!" it repeated, its brown eyes rolling and its hooves pawing at the tiled paths. I wondered momentarily if eating roses made donkeys crazy. Braying continuously, it backed me against the fountain and eee-yawed at me, punctuating its noise with sharp tosses of its mane and angry thras.h.i.+ngs of its tail, all the while showing its great white teeth and hopping up and down on its front hooves so that I felt my exposed toes in great jeopardy.

Just as I thought I would be obliged to take a swim to escape the creature, it reared up and bounced back down again facing away from me and galloped off through the hyacinths to the hidden gate to Amollia's garden. Amollia and the cat stood there framed by the swags of flowering vines. The donkey galloped headlong for them. I shouted a warning, but the beast was already upon them. It stopped, dirt and shreds of ruined rose bushes spraying beneath its hooves, and continued its braying at her. Its voice was growing fainter now, but no less insistently plaintive.

Amollia looked puzzled and tried to pat it, whereupon it ran back to me, still braying. The bray faltered to a wheeze.

"There, there, old dear," I said in my gentlest horse-taming talk. "Don't take on so. Come and have that nice rub-down. You're home now. No need to carry on." It gave one last heartsick bray and laid its long head against my midsection, a great shuddering sigh running from eartips to tail.

I took a deep breath and let it out again and patted the beast's forehead. It brayed very faintly and looked up at me sadly before it began again to drink, this time more slowly, its sides heaving.

Using the end of my sash, I began to wipe the froth from the beast's sides.

Amollia quietly joined me. Her robe was long and decorated with paintings of leaves. Her face wore an expression of mingled bewilderment and exasperation.

"What possessed you, sister-wife, that you not only sneak from your husband's house in the middle of the night, but also prove that you have done so by bringing that a.s.s home?" The a.s.s looked up with dripping muzzle and gave her such a wounded expression that she gave it an apologetic pat and at once began using the hem of her gown to help me mop its sides. "You do realize that among these people that kind of behavior could get your body separated from your head?"

I lowered my voice, so as not to stimulate the beast again. "What makes you think I went anywhere?"

"I suppose the a.s.s knocked at the door and you were simply practicing these people's laws of hospitality by admitting it? I saw you leave and I know you were up to-"

The cat Kalimba had been sniffing, perilously, first at the donkey's hindquarters and then at its muzzle. Rather surprisingly, the cat rumbled in a contented manner the whole time it sniffed and even more surprisingly the donkey made no objections. As we spoke, the cat settled itself, paws curled and eyes slitted, in the shade of the donkey's belly. A gate brushed open at our backs and Kalimba immediately pounced forward, growling.

A blinking, yawning, tousle-haired Aster emerged from her own garden. Her hair flowers were folded into droopy semi-circles dangling over her ears. Her silken pajamas were rumpled. "Whose animals?" she asked, as familiarly as if she were not an unwelcome stranger.

"The cat is mine and the donkey is Rasa's," Amollia said smoothly.

"I didn't know our husband would let us have personal pets," Aster said. "What am I to have for mine, do you suppose? A peac.o.c.k, perhaps? Or a panda? Or maybe one of those horrible-looking humpbacked things I saw out the window this morning? If Aman wants to get me one too and asks either of you what I'd like, tell him a cricket, will you? They're easy to take care of and one never feels too aggrieved if they die."

The donkey gave her a squeaky bray and trotted toward her but she dodged it. It brayed once more, sadly, and turned back to us.

Aster eyed it speculatively. "Not a bad-looking beast. Did it follow you home, barbarian?"

"Home from where?" I asked innocently.

"From following my husband, of course. I watched you leave, so you needn't deny it."

What I had thought was a private excursion turned out to have been fairly public after all.

Amollia said calmly, "Rasa was only trying to protect our husband. He had been behaving strangely."

"This humble person could not agree with you more, elder sister," Aster said with a quick bow. "And I certainly am not one to betray secrets. I but wondered, barbarian, that you have so little love left for your current life that you should speed toward another with such haste. City streets at night are dangerous, you know, especially for those who are where they should not be. But you need not fear my tongue. Why, in my last life but one I was a magistrate known throughout the province for my discretion-"

"There is nothing to tell," I said. "And nothing to hide. I suspected our revered mother-in-law had finally convinced Aman Akbar to seek the woman Hyaganoosh-"

"And so she had," Aster nodded agreeably. "I-er-chanced to overhear them when the old bat interrupted my wedding night to exhort with her son."

"So I followed him," I finished, a little lamely.

"Ah," Amollia said. "And once you were there what did you do?"

"Nothing. I waited, and when the donkey was driven out from the courtyard of the Emir, I followed it back here. I merely wanted to see this Hyaganoosh."

Amollia rolled her eyes at the dawn-streaked sky. Aster pointedly studied her fingernails. The donkey snorted. "Well," I said, "if he had left her alone for a short while I could have told her how terribly crowded it is here and how hungry we get while waiting for Aman."

"That wouldn't bother her, I'll bet," Aster said. "If she's tai-tai, number-one wife, he'll change things to suit her."

"I had," I said stiffly, "planned to exaggerate."

"Ah," Aster said, nodding wisely. During this exchange the donkey looked from her to me as if following a fighting match of some sort.

"And did you speak to her?" Amollia asked.

"I think I heard her squeal," I said. And I told them all that had happened, and how the guard's intended kindness had forced me to leave before Aman returned.

"You would have had a long wait," Amollia said drily. "He has yet to return."

At this the donkey gave another short wheezing bray, which even to the animal's own long ears must have sounded feeble, for it desisted at once as if shamed and hung its head.

Aster patted it absently. The cat at its feet growled low. "That's where the old woman is now. She came round shaking me awake early this morning and asked if I had seen her precious son. When I said I hadn't, she put on her crow robes and went to search for him. I can tell you, she doesn't look nearly so pleased as she did after she spoiled my wedding night."

"Don't be too sure that was a wedding night," I told her, and repeated what had pa.s.sed between Aman and the djinn concerning us. That That stopped her preening. stopped her preening.

"But at least Aman doesn't intend to set us aside," Amollia said. "And this is not truly his doing, but his mother's. His cousin has had her whole life to win him, but had it not been for the old one, he would never have pursued her."

I thought of my father's tents and of the new horses my alliance with Aman had won him and of the life of my sister, a slave to her captor until she bore him a son. Being the least of Aman's concubines was better than her life, in many ways. Yet I was not so sure. I would almost rather face all of my mother's cousins single-handedly than watch Aman stroll away with one of the others again. But at least by now there were so many many others that I was unlikely to be lonely when he did so. others that I was unlikely to be lonely when he did so.

The donkey had wandered off and seemed to be trying to go indoors toward our chambers, but I felt no inclination to stop him. The cat prowled after him.

"He would be very foolish to cast me off," Aster said confidently. "He paid twice what father was offered for me by the people who run the flower boats."

"Flower boats?" Amollia asked. "What are are you talking about? Are flower boats some sort of royal honors that a princess should be sold to them? Princesses don't get sold to anything, except perhaps husbands. Or so it is in my country." you talking about? Are flower boats some sort of royal honors that a princess should be sold to them? Princesses don't get sold to anything, except perhaps husbands. Or so it is in my country."

"In mine, birth means little," Aster shrugged. "Station in life is the thing. My family in this life was once n.o.ble but my esteemed grandfather committed a slight indiscretion with public funds. Since then, my family has existed as a troup of traveling players. A princess is only one of the many roles I play. Fortunately, it was the one for which I was costumed when Aman saw me. My father had already made a deal with the manager of one of the boats-that's where the best and prettiest girls are sent to dance and sing and please men."

"That's barbaric," Amollia said. "Our people would never do so. Rather they would marry you into the harem of an established man who could protect you."

"Oh, our men marry several girls sometimes too," Aster said airily. "Only there are too many girls."

"But why do they not dispose of the excess ones at birth?" Amollia asked.

"They try," Aster said. "But you can't always tell who's going to be excess. You were lucky to be so valued among your people. I am surprised they let you marry so far away."

"Oh, they don't know I'm gone and won't unless they take a count," Amollia answered. "They'll a.s.sume I've run off into the jungle with Kalimba, and think it no particular loss either. For in truth I am the ugliest of all of the daughters of the Great Elephant. You see, I have never quite persuaded myself the time was right to submit to my beautifying tattoos."

"Modesty is a becoming ornament," Aster said piously.

"Happily, Aman seems to be of the same opinion," Amollia said. "I was more than pleased to be spoken for by a man who doesn't want me to carve my skin with knives and rub magic ashes in it. That he also granted that I should keep Kalimba with me, when any man of my people would have insisted I turn her out into the jungle or make a robe of her, was a greater boon yet. True, having only three other women with whom to share wifely duties will seem bleak but-"

The a.s.s galloped out from between the arches leading to my quarters. Chips flew from the tiles broken under the flying hooves as the beast clattered past us and skidded to a halt beside the gate. The gate creaked open. I ran after the beast. Though reason told me the gate had to be opening for Aman and no other, I surrept.i.tiously clutched a knife I had once found in the library. The gate had opened before without Aman, and the fountain had sprayed. The magic wasn't working according to its custom and Aman wasn't behaving according to his either. I, however, was going to behave according to mine.

Footsteps plopped on the road outside, only one set first, light and hurrying, more halting than Aman's and not as firm. Then others, which were very firm indeed. These did not approach from any distance but commenced as soon as the first walker neared the gate.

"You there, woman, wait," a man's voice commanded.

"In G.o.d's name, sir, who are you to bother an old mother returning from an urgent errand?" The voice corresponding with the first set of footsteps was Um Aman's.

"Do not be alarmed, madam. We are the appointed representatives of the Emir Onan and we wish a word with you, no more."

"What could such exalted personages want with me?" she asked. Fear was in her voice and her weight creaked the door open farther.

"Actually, it is with Aman Akbar, master of your house, we wish to speak. We would have spoken with him earlier today, in his customary place in the cafe in the bazaar, but he has not been seen in any of his usual places of business."

"He has had-er-pressing business," Um Aman said. "No doubt he is now sleeping soundly in his bed as any good man might do. Perhaps I could take a message?"

"That is unacceptable. A personal response from Aman Akbar is required."

"My son is not available, and any official who would disturb such an important man at this hour would do well to look to his job. My son is not without influence."

"You had better hope he is not without money, old woman. There is a small matter of unpaid taxes on this estate and at least one unregistered female slave being harbored on the premises."

"You must be mistaken. My son has no slaves."

"She has been seen." His voice was m.u.f.fled for a moment as he consulted with the other in whispers. "What do you think? A night in the dungeon for this insolent old bird until her influential son satisfies His Eminence?"

The donkey took a step closer to the gate and it swung open, all but spilling Um Aman into the garden. Knocking the animal aside, I threw myself upon the gate and succeeded in closing it most of the way before the official could get more than a foot in the door. The foot was crushed with what must have been considerable pain to its owner as Amollia, Aster, Um Aman and the donkey joined me in keeping the gate closed.

"Open up, I say! Aman Akbar, if you are in there, you are called upon to account to the Emir!"

Aster suddenly disengaged herself from the rest of us and, standing well back from the door, spoke in a voice much lower and stronger than the breathless little girl tones she had formerly used, the new voice holding some hint of Aman's fluid accents. "In the name of G.o.d, do not disturb a man in his own home. My beautiful new wife is ill and I have been tending her this long night through. My friend the Emir is well aware of my good reputation and-and-the tax payment is on its way to him even now by messenger service. He will reward your zeal with blows if he hears of your discourteous treatment to my mother."

Her speech so moved the donkey that it croaked agreement. Pikes magically concealed in the topmost portion of the wall revealed themselves in bristling array, as if armed men wielded them. They were balanced there seemingly by ghosts but so angered was I then by almost everything that had happened since my arrival in this country that I s.n.a.t.c.hed down one of the pikes and thrust the tip through the opening in the door. The ghost formerly holding my pike had sense enough not to resist and our would-be oppressors were no less sensible. The foot withdrew instantly.

Hasty consultations were held on the other side of the wall. In greasy tones, one of the officials said, "Your pardon, Aman Akbar. We will depart for now and see if your messenger has reached the Emir. If he has not, perhaps we can expedite his progress."

"Indeed," Aster growled. And two sets of footsteps marched double-time down the street again.

Um Aman was as grateful as could be expected. "How dare you impersonate my son?" she asked. "Where is he? What have you done with him that he cannot speak for himself?"

Amollia ignored the woman's Sailings and the red color her face was turning and put an arm around her shoulders. "Old mother, we do not know where Aman is. Did you hear no word among your friends?"

The woman sagged slightly and her cheeks seemed more sunken than before. "No word." Then the wrath in her eyes rekindled and she shook off Amollia's arm. "But how can you pretend he is not here? The magic is functioning. It functions only when Aman is here."

"I do not know. We also had thought that he was here but if you can produce him you're doing better than any of us," Amollia replied reasonably. "Perhaps he arranged for the magic to work in his absence."