Arabian Nights 03 - The Last Arabian Night

2016·0.89 MB·English

by  Gardner Craig Shaw

This book is an Ace original edition, and has never been previously published.
THE LAST ARABIAN NIGHT
Book Three of the Arabian Nights

By Craig Shaw Gardner
An Ace Book / published by arrangement with the author

PRINTING HISTORY
Ace edition / April 1993

All rights reserved. Copyright © 1993 by Craig Shaw Gardner.

Cover art by Darrell K. Sweet.

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by mimeograph or any other means, without permission.

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ISBN: 0-441-47054-8

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PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
This one's for Barbara,
with no excuses.
The Prologue,
in which we manage to simultaneously reiterate
certain points of difficulty,
while once again starting anew.

Then it is my turn?

I will tell you therefore a story of life and death, of dreams unforetold and places no
able man has ever seen. My tale shall hold within its bounds the hidden secrets of beasts
and the true nature of men, and it shall range from the distant day before there was a
Baghdad to a time far after every one of us is gone from this earth, and ifrits and
magicians are thought of as nothing more than childish fantasies.

Not, of course, that my humble excuses for storytelling are in any way exceptional. But
I digress.

You have heard from the others now, concerning the glories of Baghdad and the
wonders of other lands. And both of these men, clever Sinbad, who was once a porter,
and bold Ali Baba, who once cut wood to survive, have proven themselves to be noble
adventurers and grand storytellers. It would be almost impossible for an unassuming
tale spinner like myself to best their stories of magic and terror, and I must admit that I
have, by and large, led a somewhat less venturesome life than these men, as is suited to
my sex and station.

But this is not to say that my story is without drama, for, in a certain way that you shall
see, my very life depended upon my every word, for, were my words to fail me, my
head would quickly be separated from my shoulders.

Ah, I can see our captor takes an interest now. Yes, even a great djinni such as Ozzie
might appreciate the effects of the spilled blood of maidens. But I will talk of more than
blood, and more than maidens.

For, while you shall see that my life has always hung near the blade of a headsman's
axe, I have also discovered certain more subtle dramas as well, but no less strange for
their relative calm.

My existence has been a life hidden, by and large, from the world of men, within your
world and yet totally separate from it.

So it is that I have discovered that there are stories within stories, thoughts within
thoughts, and lives within lives. And it is now my task to unravel all these stories,
thoughts, and lives for you and, I hope, reveal those truths that hide within truths.
So I pray you to grant me the proper time and attention, so that I might tell you the most
unusual story of Scheherazade.
Chapter the First,
in which certain unfortunate errors
are quickly cut away.

Know now, that while I tell my own story, it is the story of many others as well. First
and foremost is it the tale of two mighty kings, one named Shahryar, who ruled over the
great city of Baghdad, and his younger brother, the great King Shahzaman, who ruled
the neighboring kingdom of Samarkand. And both these rulers reigned over their
kingdoms for a full score of years, bringing peace and prosperity to all their subjects,
and thus both were known throughout each of their kingdoms, and indeed throughout
the entire civilized world, as being among the fairest and most beneficent of rulers.

But a man is more than a throne and a talent for judgment. So it was that the elder of the
brothers, Shahryar who was known to his people as the tall king, found himself with a
violent longing for his brother and childhood companion, whom he had not seen in all
of those long years that the two of them had ruled their separate domains. He therefore
sent his trusted vizier to visit his brother, King Shahzaman, who was still, for all his
years and wisdom, known as the younger king to both his subjects and those of the
neighboring kingdom.

And the younger king, hearing of his brother's longing for reunion, readily agreed to
such a meeting. He then prepared his court for a prolonged absence, having long
discussions with his own majordomo, and his chief of eunuchs and his chief of slaves,
telling them to tend to their particular duties, and to take special care to watch over his
wife and to protect her from all trouble, for he loved the woman dearly.

Oh, but that fate can change any and all without warning, and that no man can control
his Destiny! So it was that, mere moments after he had departed from his court, the
younger king remem bered a certain item in his apartments that he had wished to present
to his brother as a gift. No sooner had he returned to his apartments, however, than he
discovered not one form, but two, residing upon his wife's favorite couch.

Now, one of these individuals was indeed the king's wife, which one might not find
surprising. However, the second form—which was pressed so close that you could not
tell where the perspiration upon one naked body ended and where the sweat upon the
other unclothed form began, not to mention certain other fluids that one might share
between a male and female—this second form was the chief among slaves, that very
same man whom the king had so recently exhorted. Never had King Shahzaman
imagined, when he had issued his instructions, that the tall and agile slave would protect
his wife quite that closely.

Well, Shahzaman had little choice in a matter of this nature. There was nothing for it
save to have both wife and slave beheaded. But, once he was done with this onerous
task, not only was he an additional quarter of an hour late for the beginning of his
journey, but this unfaithfulness business had placed him in a temper unbecoming to a
reunion with his brother.

And yet, a promise is a promise, and a king is nothing if he does not fulfill his duties.
So it was that King Shahzaman traveled to the neighboring kingdom. And his brother,
the tall king, King Shahryar, greeted him joyously, and Shahzaman did his best to
reciprocate the emotion. But, despite his best efforts, the younger king found he had
little appetite for the grand banquet that evening and did not even deign to glance at the
sumptuous entertainments which followed. Indeed, his thoughts plagued him that entire
night, so that the following morning found him still awake, with hollowed eyes and
sallow complexion.

His brother asked him what was amiss, but the younger king did not wish to trouble the
tall king with his domestic difficulties, and blamed the long journey for his malaise. At
that, King Shahryar declared that they should both go on a great hunt together, for it is
in such manly pursuits that even kings might forget their troubles. But the younger king
had no heart even for this sport and bade that his older brother go without him.

So it was that Shahzaman stayed behind while his host proceeded to the hunt, and the
younger king did retire again to his chambers and attempt there to rest, although his
thoughts still would not allow sleep to come.

Now it came to pass that, as the younger king was in this restive state, he did hear a
great commotion in that garden that lay just beyond his quarters. Curious even in his
misery, Shahzaman arose and, treading quietly, peered from out of his darkened
doorway at the unbelievable scene beyond. For there, frolicking among the vast array of
cushions that littered the center of the gardens, were twenty male slaves and twenty
female slaves, and at their center was the queen of this kingdom, and wife to his
brother, King Shahryar.

And the slaves all paused in their merrymaking, as if waiting for a signal from their
queen. And for her part, the queen smiled very sweetly upon one of the male slaves,
who was tall and very well muscled, and furthermore was endowed with a prodigious
gift of manhood, for I have neglected to mention that all the slaves, male and female,
were entirely naked, and, indeed, even the queen wore but the flimsiest of robes.

"Come to me," she said to the fortuitously equipped slave. "And you know how literally
I do mean those words. You should consider them nothing less than an order from your
queen."

Then did the slave smile upon the royal woman and take her in his arms. And the queen
further remarked, "We will make these cushions know they have been used!" drawing
the slave down next to her with great cries of "Let us do it!" and "Whoopie!" and other
sayings especially coarse and shocking coming from the conversation of a lady of such
refinement. And then did all the other slaves do the same, naked men and women
mixing without discrimination, so that the entire mound of cushions, and the pathway of
stones that led to the gardens beyond, became a mass of bouncing and giggling nudity.

Truly, the younger king was astonished by this course of events, and found himself
watching the drama for a substantial period of time in order to discern the finer details.
But there comes a time when even a king must make a judgment, and so it was that
Shahzaman said to himself: "As bad as is my misfortune, my brother's is twenty times
worse." And furthermore, "Truly, though I was presented with the leavings of a
diarrheic bird upon my brow, my brother has been gifted with the similar gifts of a
whole herd of oxen.''

And with that, and another hour or two of observation of what passed in the garden
beyond, he found that his grief had passed, and he was once again able to eat and drink
and sleep with the grace of a king.

When, upon the following day, his brother returned from the hunt, King Shahryar
discovered that the younger king seemed much improved in health and demeanor. So it
was that the tall king asked his brother again for the cause of his malaise, and this time,
Shahzaman answered, repeating how he had returned to his palace to discover his wife
in the arms of a slave and how, as his brother most readily agreed, he had both of them
immediately beheaded.

"Still, though," the younger brother continued, "did I suffer for my misfortune, both
pining for my lost love and much angered by her gross treachery, until—" But with this
word the younger king took on the countenance of most profound regret and ceased to
speak entirely.

But his elder brother was astonished by what his sibling related, and bade him to
continue. So it was that the tall king prompted, "Until?"

But the younger of the two was extremely reticent to continue, since, in his relief at
finally finding himself able to relate his misfortune, he had neglected to consider that
the latter portions of his story might contribute to the misfortune of another.

"Until?" his elder brother, who no doubt was not fully cognizant of the other's dilemma,
replied a bit more forcefully as he pulled distractedly upon his beard.

But instead of a more direct reply, the younger king said, "Perhaps it is better that I end
my story here, for to continue would no doubt cause you great consternation and grief."