ebook img

Craig Shaw Gardner - Arabian 3 - The Last Arabian Night PDF

304 Pages·2016·0.5 MB·English
Save to my drive
Quick download
Download
Most books are stored in the elastic cloud where traffic is expensive. For this reason, we have a limit on daily download.

Preview Craig Shaw Gardner - Arabian 3 - The Last Arabian Night

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. This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by mimeograph or any other means, without permission. For information address: The Berkley Publishing Group, 200 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016. ISBN: 0-441-47054-8 Ace Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, 200 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016. The name "ACE" and the "A" logo are trademarks belonging to Charter Communications, Inc. 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 remembered 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." Howsoever, his brother, the great King Shahryar, thought otherwise. "Until?" he demanded as he pulled even more distractedly upon his brother's beard. King Shahzaman only shook his head, a difficult feat when your beard is being wrenched. But still did the tall king bid the younger to continue, or he might have to consider a beheading of his own. And further did Shahryar remind him that Shahzaman was in Shahryar's kingdom, with Shahryar's army, and Shahryar's headsman, and Shahryar's extensive network of prisons and torture chambers. "Then again," Shahzaman replied with a wisdom common only in kings, "perhaps I am compelled by brotherly duty to speak." So did he tell his brother what indeed happened after "Until," especially concerning the night that he had witnessed his brother's wife with the forty slaves. But when the younger of the two was done, the elder brother declared that he could not believe in such a thing and had to see it with his own eyes. Then did Shahzaman, who still realized the possibility of the headsman's axe, suggest that his elder brother loudly announce that the two kings would now embark on a hunt together, but, instead of doing this thing, they would instead both secrete themselves in a corner of the palace with a clear view of the garden. Shahryar agreed to this plan, and quickly made it so, announcing that he would hunt again on the morrow. But while he sent a full complement of hunters and attendant servants out into the great forests beyond the palace, he and his brother stayed behind within a secret place and then moved quietly to a balcony overlooking the gardens. Mere moments passed before the queen reappeared in the garden, and around her frolicked the forty slaves, and all were clothed, or rather unclothed, precisely as before. And, after a verbal exchange between the queen and her primary slave concerning bananas, melons, cherries, and other fruit, all further proceeded in much the same manner as Shahzaman had previously related. And there were many calls of "Whoopie!" that arose from the garden and even, I am afraid to relate, an occasional "Hotcha!" Shahryar did witness this spectacle in his garden in every detail, first with disbelief, then with anger, and lastly with an evergrowing sadness. His grief doubled with every whoopie that rose from down below. At last, he had had too much of this display, and so he said to his brother, "Why must both of us, though we be kings, have to face this misery? I cannot bear to stay within this palace another instant. Come, we shall take to the road, until we might find someone who might explain why we must be so miserable, or until we might find someone who is even more miserable than we two kings!" And Shahzaman, seeing his brother's grief, discovered his grief rekindled as well. So it was that both kings left the palace by a secret way and took to the road, leaving their fate in the hands of Destiny. The two kings traveled, day and night, until they came to a meadow by the great salt sea. And in this meadow was a tree of substantial age and height, and a modest pond of fresh water. The kings paused there to drink the fresh water and rest beneath the tree. But soon did a great black column of smoke rise from the sea, as if the ocean itself were on fire. The two brothers cried in fear and sought the safety of the upper branches of the tree, as that blackest of black smoke whirled its way

See more

The list of books you might like

Most books are stored in the elastic cloud where traffic is expensive. For this reason, we have a limit on daily download.