Zuleika and the Barbarian

PROLOGUE

Many centuries ago, there existed an ancient kingdom known as Dariyabar, which sat on the edge of the southern desert in the center of the road known as Silk. Its sultan was a good man with three strong sons, and a beautiful daughter who was called Zuleika.

My name is Fatimah. I am a storyteller by trade, and I sit just within the gates of fabled Baghdad telling my stories. Hear now, gentle listener, the tale of the princess Zuleika, and the barbarian, and of how together, although at the time he did not realize it, they save Dariyabar from the evils that threatened to engulf and destroy it.

Even the girl known as Sheherizade does not know this narrative, but I swear by all the gods known and unknown that it is true.

Chapter One

"You would give me to the barbarian for his harem?" said Zuleika, Princess of Dariyabar, disbelieving.

"It is the practical solution to our problem," her cousin, Haroun, said. "Your father, the sultan, agrees." He was a man of medium height with a too beautiful face, dark blue eyes, and curly black hair.

"I thought you loved me! It has been planned since our shared childhood that we marry," Zuleika responded.

"But it is no longer necessary that I marry you, dear Zuleika," he told her. "Your brothers are all dead. I am the only male heir your father has. Even without you I shall be the next sultan of Dariyabar."

"I never realized what a snake you are, Haroun," the princess replied, her voice suddenly cold. The Gods! What a fool she had been!

"You see, cousin," he continued, "I have the throne, and I shall be able to keep my favorite, Golnar, which I could not have done if I had married you. I need a more complaisant wife. I have chosen the vizier's daughter, Bahira. She is a pretty little thing, and will do precisely what she is told. You have never done what you are told, Zuleika, unless, of course, it pleased you to do so. I cannot have a wife who would attempt to rule Dariyabar through me. I need a wife who will be loyal, and never criticize. Bahira will suit me admirably."

"Have you told her that yet, Haroun?" Zuleika asked him dryly. Bahira was her best friend. They were like sisters. Haroun was very mistaken if he thought Bahira a meek little ewe sheep who would follow her lord and master without question. She must find a way to protect her friend!

"The time is not right yet for me to announce my choice of a wife. Not until you are safely ensconced within the camp of the barbarian, Amir Khan. I suspect he will be quite pleased to have the sultan's daughter for his new plaything, cousin." Haroun smiled broadly.

"But not as his wife?" Zuleika probed.

"This is not a negotiation we are having with Amir Khan," Haroun said. "You are a gift. One does not put conditions on a gift."

"You are a fool, Haroun, if you believe that by giving Amir Khan the sultan of Dariyabar's daughter he will pack up his armies and go away. Do you think he has been besieging us for three years so he might be given the gift of a woman?"

"They say that Amir Khan is an intelligent man. Surely by now he has come to realize he cannot take the city. Without the city, the rest of Dariyabar is useless to him. We make a great public presentation to the khan of the princess Zuleika, Sultan Ibrahim's only surviving child. A peace between us is inevitable under such a circumstance. We give him the means of saving face. He can depart without embarrassment, or shame. After all, cousin, no one has ever successfully besieged Dariyabar."

Zuleika swept her cousin a low bow. "I bow, Haroun, to your clever plan," she told him. Then she turned and left him in the sultan's gardens, knowing as she went that he wore a smug smile upon his too-handsome features. He was a fool! And she would make certain that he did not follow her father as ruler of Dariyabar. But she must work quickly for Haroun, she now realized, was a ruthless man. As soon as he had gotten rid of her, and made Bahira his wife, her father's very life was in jeopardy.

The sultan was a beloved ruler who had brought Dariyabar great prosperity by encouraging a ship-building industry that built merchant vessels that traversed the known world buying and selling luxury goods of every kind. They traded in ivory, gold, silk, and slaves, among other things. Their ships carried fine oils, wines, olives and grains. There was no one in Dariyabar who did not have a home, or food in his mouth each day, or warm clothing and shoes in the rainy season. Children were schooled to their abilities so they might be of use to Dariyabar one day, no matter the circumstances of their birth, or their parents' path in life.

But the sultan had married his only wife late in life because of this deep devotion to his homeland. It had been ten years before his sultana had borne children. But she had then birthed four in the next eight years. Sultan Ibrahim was now in his eighth decade of life. He had watched proudly as his three sons, Cyrus, Asad, and Jahi, had each in their turn sallied forth from Dariyabar at the head of their troops to defend their homeland. But each in his turn was slain, and returned upon their shields. Now he was left to mourn with his surviving child, for the sultana had died giving birth to that last babe, his daughter, Zuleika. The sultan drew his wool shawl about his narrow shoulders, and sighed.

His only male heir was his much younger half-brother's son, Haroun. Sultan Ibrahim had raised this nephew almost from birth for both his half-brother and his wife had disappeared from the palace one night, and were never again seen. It was a great mystery. Sultan Ibrahim had always planned for Haroun to wed his daughter, Zuleika, but now Haroun said that was impossible. Zuleika must be given to Amir Khan as a peace offering. Surely his nephew had Dariyabar's best interests at heart. Hearing a footfall, the old man looked up to see his daughter entering the garden courtyard.

Zuleika went to her father and knelt before him, taking his hands in hers and pressing them to her heart. "Good day, my father," she said sweetly to him.

"Get up, my daughter, and come and sit with me," the sultan said in his reedy voice. "Haroun has spoke with you, I can tell, for your eyes are stormy no matter that your mouth smiles at me."

Zuleika laughed, rose gracefully, and sat by her sire's side. "Haroun is not fit to rule Dariyabar, father," she began. "You know in your heart that his only interest in our land is the riches it can bring him. He will ultimately drive the people to misery." She sighed. "I will do what you desire of me, father. However, for my sake, as well as for the prestige of Dariyabar, I beg you that I go to Amir Khan as his wife, not his concubine. I am your daughter, and the daughter of a princess. I am not some slave girl!"

"Haroun says you are a gift, and we cannot attach conditions of any kind to a gift," the sultan said in a voice that indicated his confusion over the matter.

Zuleika realized then and there that it was useless to argue the matter further with her father. Haroun had convinced him of what lie must do, and being a male it was his word that would prevail over hers despite the fact her father loved her. Her facile mind was already forming a plan of action. "It will be as you wish, my father," she told him meekly. "But would you permit me a boon?"

"I will give you whatever you desire, my daughter," the sultan said, eager to please Zuleika under these circumstances. He had to trust his heir's judgment in this matter, and yet he was not certain he was really doing the right thing.

"Other than my servant, Rafa, I would take one person with me when I leave Dariyabar, father."

"You may have whomever you desire, my daughter," the sultan promised her. "You have my word on it. Who would you take?"

"I am not certain yet," Zuleika lied smoothly. "I shall tell you on the day that I leave." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You have not yet told Haroun about Kansbar, have you?"

"No," her father said.

"Do not," Zuleika implored the old man. "Until we can be certain that Haroun's motives are pure, we must not put Kansbar into his hands. Promise me that, father! Swear on my mother's memory!"

"I pledge you silence on Jamila's memory," the sultan vowed to his daughter. "I know you are right in this, Zuleika."

"Thank you, father," the girl said, then arose, and kissing his cheek again she left him with his memories and his thoughts. Hurrying to her own quarters she entered, saying to her servant as she did, "I am betrayed, Rafa. I am to be given to Amir Khan as a peace offering!" Her eyes met those of her best friend, Bahira. "And Haroun has decided to take you for his wife because you are meek and mild."

"Me?" Bahira looked astounded. She was a plump, pretty girl with dark auburn hair and blue eyes. "I never thought he even noticed me, but I should not marry Haroun if he were the last man on earth!"

"And your father approves of this perfidy?" Rafa demanded, outraged. "My poor master! He is old, and confused. Prince Haroun takes shameful advantage of him."

"Father takes his word over mine only because he is a man," Zuleika said, almost bitterly.

"What are you going to do?" Bahira asked.

"First you must tell me if you are certain that you will not have Haroun?" Zuleika replied. "Think carefully, Bahira. If my plan fails, then you could be the sultana of Dariyabar."

"And if your plan succeeds?" Bahira wanted to know.

"I will be the sultana," Zuleika said with a smile.

"And Haroun?" Rafa asked, her black eyes curious.

"He will not be the sultan," was all Zuleika would say.

"I will take my chances with you," Bahira told her friend.

"Good! I have asked my father for Rafa and one other person to go with me to the barbarian's encampment. He swore I might have anyone I desired. Haroun will not approach your father until after I am gone. I intend asking the sultan for you, Bahira. He has given his word, and will not take it back no matter Haroun's protests. That way I can keep you safe from my cousin." She reached out and took her friend's hand, and the hand of her servant. "Will you both trust me to bring us safely back to Dariyabar? I will, you know."

They both squeezed her hand in response.

"Good," Zuleika told them. "Now let us go and see what Kansbar will show me, provided he is in a mood to cooperate."

Without being asked, Rafa scurried across the room to a tall ebony wood cabinet. Opening it, she drew out a concave vessel, and bringing it to her mistress set it upon a low table. It was a bowl, wide, round, and almost flat in design. It was oddly plain, having no decoration upon it at all, neither carving nor bas-relief. It was dull in color, appearing to be made from some base metal. Rafa and Bahira sat about the low table on red silk cushions. Zuleika knelt before the bowl.

"Great Kansbar, guardian of Dariyabar, and supreme genie of the golden bowl, come forth, I beg you, and speak with me," she said.

The bowl filled with clear crystal water.

"Please, Kansbar, we are in danger, and need you," Zuleika pleaded politely.

The dull bowl suddenly shone itself a bright and shining gold.

"We are at your mercy, and await your august presence," Zuleika murmured.

Suddenly a face appeared on the smooth surface of the water. It was a male face, ageless, and his head was topped by a cloth-of-gold turban in the front of which was set a large pigeon's-blood ruby. Black eyes looked out upon the trio, curious, and perhaps just a trifle irritated at being disturbed. "It must be great danger, my princess, that you are so deferential to me," the genie said. "What has happened, and how may I serve you?" His voice was deep, and like thunder.

"I am to be given to the khan as a gift," Zuleika said. "My cousin, Haroun, has betrayed us. I fear when I am gone he will see my father dead so he may rule Dariyabar."

"He is the male heir," Kansbar said.

"You would serve him?"

"I did not say that, my princess. I said he was the male heir," the genie responded. "I know your cousin's worth even as I know yours Now, how may I serve you today?"

"Show me Amir Khan," Zuleika said.

"It is done," Kansbar said as he disappeared from the surface of the water, which grew dark again.

And then the liquid grew quite light, and there before them was a man. He was taller than any man Zuleika had ever seen. His body was perfect, and in absolute proportion. He was well-muscled, with quite graceful hands and feet. His head was shaven, and from his smooth skull fell a single swath of black hair, dressed with narrow gold bands. His face was beardless. He had high cheekbones, a long straight nose with flaring nostrils, a generous mouth, and dark brown eyes that mirrored his intelligence.