by
Marva Dasef
Cadida tapped the stone-lined pool's surface and smiled at the rippled reflection of her own face. The surface of the pool was like her life, she thought. Always placid and clear, the only excitement as brief and trivial as a summer rainstorm.
Even a tempest with thunder and lightning would be a pleasant change of pace from the dull existence she lived. Anything different from the usual and boring routine of her life would be more than welcome.
Cadida sighed a deep sigh as only a very young, very romantic girl can. Where was her handsome sheik on a pure white horse? Where were the bandits to kidnap her so she could be rescued? Where was the...the magic?
Yes, that was the word. Her life was utterly and totally without magic. All she had for company was her old nurse, Balika. She was like a mother to Cadida; the mother she had never known. Cadida loved her dearly, but she was not very scintillating company. Her father visited her every week, but his business kept him away most of the time. Even when he came to see her, his thoughts were more on trading and prices than her.
If only her father let her live in town. He was afraid, though, afraid of losing the only thing remaining of his beloved wife. Cadida was only fourteen, but she was afraid her father would never free her, even when she came of age. Would he even let her marry? Oh, he loved her, she had no doubt. She lacked for nothing in the material sense, but that wasn't enough. Balika, the few other servants who kept the house, and Master Hassim, her tutor from the monastery, were all the company she had.
Cadida strolled the garden path toward the west wall of the compound. She wandered aimlessly, lost in her blue mood until she approached the little niche in the wall which she considered to be her secret place.
As far as she knew, the crumbling opening she had discovered was unknown to anyone else. She had found it when just a little girl and even then recognized the importance of her discovery. A breach in the wall was dangerous. The renegade tribes that lived in the mountains raided the village and sometimes the isolated estates such as her father's. The wall was effective protection even though the compound was only lightly guarded. The raiders only went after the easy prey. They hit hard and fast, then returned swiftly to their mountain aeries.
But the wall had to be impenetrable to be effective. Why did she keep this secret? She wasn't sure, but suspected it had to do with her insufferable boredom. As long as the wall could be breached, there was a chance, a minute chance, that something exciting might happen.
The opening was very small; but she was not a large girl so she could crawl through it. It was well-hidden by shrubbery on the inside and brambles on the outside. Its existence provided her a small chance of excitement, which was all she could hope for.
The mortar between the stones on the outer wall had given way and the small space directly in front of the breach was littered with the fallen rockery. The hole, itself, was about three feet tall by two feet wide on the inside, narrowing through its four foot depth to a space barely large enough for her shoulders to pass through. She had cleared the brambles on the outside to give her enough room to sit against the wall.
She had never ventured beyond the bramble exit, but she could see the valley and the mountains beyond. She had often come here to watch the sun setting over the western range. Inside the compound, dusk came one-half hour earlier than over the mountains. She watched the sun set from within the walls, then crawled through the niche to watch it a second time.
It was nearing sunset now, so she decided to go through the gap since she was here and had nothing better to do. She noticed that the fit was tighter now and hoped that she wouldn't grow much more or she wouldn't be able to go through at all.
Cadida poked her head out of the tunnel when a very large, very strong hand grabbed her hair pulling her completely out of the tunnel. She was too startled to make any sound except a pained squeak before the hand clamped over her mouth. She fainted.
[#]
When she opened her eyes again, she found that she was bound both hand and foot with rough horsehair rope, but she was not gagged. She didn't bother to call for help since she knew it would do no good. Twisting her head as far as possible, she could make out light leaking around the edges of an entrance. As her eyes adjusted, she found she was in a hide tent--the kind the raiders used.
She surmised that she must be in the mountains, both from the coolness and because she knew that the raiders never camped in the plain. Since she could see light around the tent flap, she also knew that she must have been unconscious the whole night. She also realized that she really, really had to relieve herself.
This last thought was sufficient for her to call out. "Hello, is anybody out there?" She decided that she should try to be as nice as possible, hoping that might have some effect on how the raiders treated her. She suspected that they wouldn't harm her, but would demand ransom from her father.
The tent flap lifted and she was momentarily blinded by the light that streamed in -- morning light from the east. A vast black shadow blocked the flood of sunlight. This must be her abductor, she reasoned. She felt a momentary thrill. Her romantic fantasies seemed to be coming to life. All she needed was to be rescued by the handsome sheik.
"So, you are finally awake," came from the black bulk. The shadow figure moved close enough for her to make out features: very large, very shaggy, very smelly. The huge nomad was wrapped in a sheepskin cloak, which gave off a somewhat ripe odor as if the skin had not been properly tanned. His face was covered with a black beard, his eyes almost hidden beneath thick eyebrows.
He bent down to her and she automatically shied away from him. The romance was fading fast as she whiffed the powerful odor of the rancid sheepskin mixed with very old sweat. Now, she was only afraid. She had heard the servants gossip and, while she had always been secluded in the compound, she was smart enough to realize the danger of her situation.
"Hold still," he growled as he loosened the straps around her ankles. He grabbed her arm, almost pulling it out of the socket, lifting her to her feet.
"Come." She decided not to object at this point. Perhaps she could reason with the chief of this tribe. Maybe she could convince him to return her; that her father would pay a sizeable ransom for her.
Fortunately, he first pulled her over to a small copse of trees and gestured for her to enter. She was puzzled at first, but then realized that he was allowing her to empty her bladder. It was a difficult task with her hands bound and the guard still holding a length of rope tied to her hands, but she finally managed and felt much better for it.
Her guard dragged her out to the clearing in the middle of the camp. A group of nomads sat around a central campfire. It looked like they were holding some kind of council meeting. They seemed to be arguing loudly about something. When they noticed her presence, all became silent and regarded her appraisingly as if she were a horse at an auction.
"My father will pay ransom," she said. They glanced at each other without reply.
"He's a very rich man," she pleaded. "He would pay a great deal of gold or horses, whatever you want." Again, there was no answer. The men huddled together and spoke so quietly she couldn't make out what they were saying. Occasionally, one or the other would glance at her with a calculating look. Maybe they were figuring how much to ask for her release.
Finally, one of the tribesmen nodded and her giant guard again pulled at her arm.
"What are you going to do with me?" she asked and then winced. That was not a good question to ask. Nobody answered her and the guard continued to pull roughly on her arm. She followed quietly assuming that a ransom message would be sent to her father. She had to wait until the ransom was paid, so she may as well resign herself to another day in the smelly tent. She hoped that a long and boring wait would be all that she had to endure.
But the guard did not lead her back to the tent. He pushed her toward a slope leading deeper into the mountains along a rough path worn by the hooves of mountain sheep. She asked the guard where they were going, but his scowl silenced her. When he pulled on her, the bindings tightened and cut into her skin. She gave in and followed him silently.
Soon, they reached a cave entrance no larger than her own wall gap at home. It, too, was hidden by shrubbery which the guard pulled away. He stepped to the side and gestured for her to enter. She hesitated. "My hands...I can't crawl in there without being freed."
"Bend over," he said roughly, "you will fit." She bent her body almost double and shuffled awkwardly into the pitch black cave. She was afraid to raise her head since she couldn't tell where the cave roof was. The guard was already pulling the shrubbery back in front of the entrance. She raised herself slowly to find that she could stand upright.
The guard's voice came through the narrow opening. "You will not be ransomed. Our chief wants to give you to the mountain demon." She started to plead with him, but before she could say two words, he had left the entrance, leaving her alone in the dark.
"Hello?" she whispered. Then louder, "Hello!" but the cave simply echoed back to her "hello, hello, hello." There was no one to hear.
Finally, she slumped to the cave floor. What, she wondered, could these superstitious tribesmen think was a mountain demon? Cloistered she may be but she was well-educated and did not believe in demons. These were old men's tales to frighten children. It made no difference, really. Dead was dead, whether by a demon's talons or a mountain cat's fangs.
She smacked her head against the rock wall and realize she had dozed off. How stupid of me, she thought. I'm waiting her to be eaten and I take a nap! She edged toward the entrance, kicking herself mentally. Why hadn't she simply tried to push the bushes aside and get out?
She found the answer to that with the inch long thorns on the shrubs and that they'd been tied down so she couldn't move them. When she had pushed on them with her tied hands, she had only gotten a gash. Now, the mountain cats would smell blood and it would be all over.
She backed away from the thorns and pressed her body against the wall. At least she could face the lions when they came.
A loud crash, followed by a slither of loose gravel sounded no more than twenty feet from where she crouched. Cadida pressed herself harder against the rock wall, closed her eyes tight and clenched her teeth.
Her eyes and mouth popped open simultaneously at what she heard next.
"Why can't they clean up these blasted caves?" a deep voice rumbled.
Suddenly, a torch flared and Cadida could see the source of the voice. A figure, at least eight feet tall, loomed in the light. A turbaned head nearly touched the now visible cave roof. Cadida gaped at the man. Or was it a man? While his features were man-like, the three-inch fangs, sharp talons, and beastly snout belied his humanity. He was dressed in the old style, with ballooning trousers tied at the ankles and a brocaded vest opened to reveal a broad, hairless chest.
The creature held up the torch, which Cadida could now see was a flame jetting from its upraised index finger. The monster glanced around until his gaze rested on Cadida against the wall.
"Ah, a bargain made, goods delivered," his deep voice chuckled. "Good evening, my dear. Please, come out into the light. Nothing to be afraid of, I assure you."
Despite his words, she did not feel assured. She could only whimper as she continued to try to melt into the stone wall. This was the demon! How could such a thing be? Demons and ogres were only legends and fairy tales, yet here one stood before her. In the flesh, so to speak.
The demon grinned, a most disconcerting grin, exposing his fangs to their full length. "Come, come, my little lady, don't be afraid. I'm not an ogre, you know."
"You...you're a demon," Cadida barely whispered.
"A what? Oh, good heavens, what kind of nonsense have they been filling your head with? I most certainly am not a demon. Why, the very idea! Any fool can see that I'm a genie. You know, a Djinn."
"If you're a Djinn, where is your bottle?" Cadida managed to ask.
"Bottle? Oh, that was just Aladdin's Djinn, Golfass. Most of us don't hang around in bottles. Old Golfass was tricked into that one," the Djinn laughed. "He wasn't too bright, I'm afraid."
"You said 'goods delivered'. What does that mean?"
"I need a Master. A Djinn isn't worth his salt without a Master. But, a Mistress will do nicely. So, then, what do you want?" he looked at her expectantly.
"Untie me?" she asked timorously.
"Oh, a thousand pardons, Mistress. I should have thought of that myself," he said as he hurried to her side. Realizing that his hand was occupied with the flame, he placed his finger against the cave wall where the flame clung to the cold stone and continued to burn brightly. Cadida stepped away from the wall and held her hands out to the Djinn who waved his finger in a circle causing her bonds to slip off.
Cadida rubbed her abraded wrists, trying to restore circulation to her numbed hands. "You won't hurt me? And, you'll do my bidding?" she asked.
"That's the way it works," the Djinn said in a kindly voice.
"Do I have three wishes or what?"
"Oh, no. I'm yours for life. You see, if one of us finds a good Master, er.. Mistress, to serve, we are very loyal. My last Master died, of old age may I add, and I bargained with a rather odiferous gentleman to bring me a human. Ha. He thought I was a demon, too. Now, that was a good one."
"Why didn't you make one of them your Master?"
"I said a good human. I do have standards, you know. I would have gone into the city to find one, but it's so difficult finding a proper human in such a place. I had the renegades deliver humans to this cave. I've evaluated two hundred and eight-nine potential Masters and have not found one who qualified. Until now, of course."
"What happened to the others?" she asked, now apprehensive that this wasn't all good.
"I sent them home. The tribesmen thought I ate them, but that's their problem. Now, what can I do for you?" he asked rubbing his hands in anticipation.
Cadida considered. She had read the old tales and knew she must be careful in what she asked. Djinns had a bad reputation for granting requests to the letter, so the wording must be carefully considered.
"What's your name?" she asked finally to allow her time to think.
"I am called Bascoda," he said while performing a deep salaam, "the best and most obedient of Djinns."
"Bascoda, can you get us out of this cave and back to my father's house?"
"Well," Bascoda hesitated, "there are certain rules."
There it was, she thought. Nothing comes without a price. "What rules?"
"I can give you things like, oh, you know, jewels and gold, but I cannot resolve your problems for you. This is the prerogative of a human being - the freedom to get yourself into and out of your own troubles."
"That's ridiculous!" Cadida exclaimed. "I'm sure you could just move these thorns since you're so big. You did untie my hands, after all."
"Oh, of course, I'll move the bushes but what will you do about the guard waiting twenty feet from the mouth of the cave? I cannot harm a human being even to please my Master, er.. Mistress. That's one of the rules, too."
Cadida considered this for a few minutes. "Then conjure a handsome sheik to rescue me!" Cadida felt pleased with her brilliant solution.
"As you please, Mistress," the Djinn said. Sweeping his arms in a wide arc, he intoned:
"Kabula, Kabala, let my wish be,
Handsome of face, tall as a tree,
Wonderful to look on, comely to see,
Handsome Sheik, come here to me."
Quicker than a hummingbird's wingbeat, the requested handsome Sheik stood before them. Cadida drew her breath sharply. She had never seen such a gorgeous man. His eyes were deep brown, his hair raven black, his features even, yet masculine. In all, he was as beautiful as the mountains at sunrise, as strong as a cataract, as noble as an eagle. In short, Cadida thought he looked pretty good.
"Oh, Bascoda," she exclaimed, "he's wonderful, perfect." Shyly, she turned to the Sheik and curtsied, "Hello, I'm Cadida."
A confused look crossed the handsome face, then he grinned hugely. "Why...gee, gosh," he giggled.
Cadida stood back somewhat perplexed. She turned a questioning look to Bascoda, who shrugged and said, "You only said handsome; you didn't ask for smart."
Cadida realized that the Djinn had run true to the tales. He had given her precisely and exactly what she had requested, no more.
She turned to the Sheik, determined to make some use of him. "Can you help me?"
"Uh, help?" He giggled again.
This was really beginning to annoy her. She saw that the Sheik (if he really was one) didn't have the intelligence to help her. Still, she had to use what she had, unless...
"Bascoda, get me another Sheik with some brains or at least give some to this one."
"Sorry. I cannot redo a wish fulfilled. Rules, you know."
If this was all she was going to get, then she would make do. She considered, then asked Bascoda, "Can you make any suggestions or is that against the rules as well?"
"Remember," he replied, "I cannot solve your problems; you have to solve them yourself."
"Well, you can remove the thorn bush. Do that," she commanded. Bascoda waved his hand and the bush disappeared. Cadida had a suspicion that Bascoda could do more...but rules were rules. She grabbed the Sheik's arm and pulled him toward the cave's entrance. "You," she said very slowly, "go out there," she pointed, "find the guard and knock him out."
The Sheik looked at her then out into the dark night. "Don't like dark," he whimpered as he backed away from the entrance.
"Oh, for goodness sakes," Cadida said between gritted teeth. "Give me your sword."
"Mine!" the Sheik shrieked and grabbed his sword tightly.
"Quiet!" she hissed. "Bascoda, can't you help me?"
"What precisely do you want me to do? If you will only say, then I will provide," the giant Djinn said as he folded his arms across his chest.
Cadida tried to think of what she could do with an uncooperative Djinn and a cowardly sheik.
"Can you place him in a trance? If so, then tell him to go out there and knock the guard out."
"I am quite adept in the mesmerist arts," the Djinn said huffily. He then whispered a few words into the sheik's ear. The handsome man's eyes became even glassier and he squirmed through the narrow exit. Within a few moments, they heard growling, a scream, and a hollow thump followed by a grunt. The sheik's head poked back into the cave.
"I did it!" he grinned. "Gosh, that was fun!"
Cadida sighed and shook her head. Whatever worked. "Good. Let's go, then."
They crept out of the cave and followed the path down the mountainside. Circling the bandits' camp, they made their way to the plains. Cadida called for a rest after they were well clear of the raiders. She asked Bascoda to conjure food for them. This, at least, he did without any arguments.
As they sat eating well-roasted squabs and wild rice, the Djinn moved closer to Cadida. In a low whisper, he pointed with his thumb at the sheik. "What of him?"
"I don't know, Bascoda. How did you create him?"
"A little of this, a pinch of that, but basically, he was one of the camp dogs."
"Well, I guess you should turn him back into a dog. It would be kindest, I believe. After all, he doesn't really make a very good sheik. Though I'll admit, he is nice to look at."
"As you wish," he said and suddenly the sheik was transformed into a large dog.
"That's a good boy, Sheik," Cadida said as she patted the big brown dog on the head. The dog's tongue lolled and his tail thumped happily on the ground.
The trio continued their journey as Cadida had decided to keep the dog. After a few more rest breaks, they finally neared her father's compound in the early afternoon. Cadida finally realized how poorly she had handled the situation. After her mistake with the sheik, she had not even thought to ask Bascoda to conjure a flying carpet or even some horses to carry them on the trek. She had been foolish, she realized, from beginning to end.
When they reached the gate, she waved at the guards who were quite startled to see her walk up with a giant Djinn and a big brown dog.
"Is my father at home?" she inquired and the guards answered that he had come back quite soon after she had been reported missing. The guard clanged on the entry bell and her father, Balika, and Master Hassim came running out. Her father grabbed her and hugged her tightly, not even noticing the rather large Djinn standing behind her.
"Oh, my dear daughter. I was so worried. I was afraid that you were taken by the raiders; that I'd never see you again." He wept, which was something Cadida had never seen him do.
"It's alright, Father," she said patting him on the back. "I've just gone on an adventure but now I'm back all safe and sound."
"Where did you get the dog?" her father asked after finally releasing her.
"Oh, he was a sheik. No, I mean the Djinn turned him into a sheik, but he was always a dog and..." she stopped. "Never mind, I'll tell you the whole story after I have a chance to clean up." She was a very fastidious girl and definitely wanted a bath.
"But let me introduce you to..." and she turned to gesture to Bascoda, but he was gone. She looked around and he was nowhere in sight. Maybe, she thought, he'd appear when she needed him again.
"To whom, my daughter?" her father looked confused.
"Oh, the dog, yes, the dog's name is Sheik. I found him in the mountains when I escaped from the raiders."
"Well, he's a good dog to have, then." He patted the dog, who reacted to the attention with his usual thumping tail.
All of them walked back into the compound. Cadida wondered if she should tell the tale the way it happened or just gloss over the more unbelievable portions. She decided to keep the tale to herself. It was, after all, her very own adventure.
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