L-J Baker - Adijan and Her Genie

Adijan sweated as she watched the gate guards search a protesting merchant. Theshort shadow of the Ul-Feyakeh city wall provided no shade from the relentlessheat. Concealed beneath her hat, the packet of strange powder she must deliverto the house of Remarzaman the enchanter pressed as heavily as a lump of lead.She resisted the urge to adjust the way her fez sat on her head. The caliphsexecutioner would cut off one of her hands if they caught her smuggling.

Next, a guard shouted. You! Move it.

Adijan mustered what she hoped looked like a casual smile springing from aninnocent heart and tugged her donkey the few paces forward. Well met, ohglorious official of the most wise caliph. May the Eye bless you and yourendeavors this fine day.

The guard grunted and eyed the bags on her donkey. Adijan offered the cloth billof fare from her employer, the Merchant Nabim. It was always safer to carrysomething taxable. The excise guards hated nothing more than letting anyonethrough without collecting at least a copper curl from them. Adijansurreptitiously wiped a trickle of sweat from the side of her face. The guardpoked and prodded the bags. He untied one and sniffed.

Murris root? he asked.

Yes, sir, Adijan said. The finest and most fragrant you could buy this sideof the Devouring Sands. Dried to perfection in the pure air of the

Yes, yes. The guard shoved past her.

Adijan retained her good-natured smile, while silently begging the All-SeeingEye to speed the inspection to a happy conclusion. Behind her, bad-temperedanimals and their owners grumbled in the heat as they waited. Swarms of blackflies buzzed around the stinking pats of donkey and camel dung. The guards actedoblivious to the seething impatience clogging up the road.

The officials of Ul-Feyakeh were the least corruptible and most arrogant. Adijanhad heard fellow couriers whisper about spells placed on the guards. With overtwo dozen years experience of life at its lowest, Adijan didnt need to blamemagic for any human vice, failing, or folly, she remembered three weeks rottingin a flea-infested jail for attempting to bribe an Ul-Feyakeh night-watchman andendured the tension and perspired.

Whats this? The guard jabbed a grubby finger at the leather bag tied to thedonkeys shoulder.

You have a fine eye, glorious sir, Adijan said. That is the best of the waresI carry. Made from the

What is it? He tugged at the knots.

Allow me, enlightened one.

Adijan loosened the ties. Silk slithered from the leather bag. Edged with a deepborder of brightly-colored embroidery, the red shawl shimmered and shone in themidday sun. Shalimar would gasp to see such finery. Adijan might not earn enoughto buy her wife such a garment, but some day she would. If she successfullycompleted this delivery to the enchanter, Merchant Nabim would owe her enoughthat she could buy her own donkey. Then she could work for herself and beginbuilding up her own lucrative delivery business. She just needed to get pastthis excise man without him finding that packet under her hat.

This beautiful scarf is a gift I carry from the merchant, my master, Adijansaid, to the virtuous daughter of his great friend, Merchant Dalian, on theoccasion of her wedding to the son of the

Yes, yes. A gift, you say?

As splendid and worthy a present as

There is tax to pay. The guard scowled at the cloth bill of fare. Is this ?

At the bottom, oh glorious sir. Adijan flashed him a smile as she knotted thebag ties. Gift. Ladys headdress. Silk.

The guard grunted. Thirty-seven curls in all.

Adijan quietly sighed her relief. No strip-search this time. She was going toget away with it. Eye be praised! Not only that, but the thirty-seven curls wereexactly right. He didnt add on a coin or two for himself. In any other city,the guard would have helped himself to at least a handful of the murris root.

While groveling a little more, Adijan tugged a battered leather bag from insideher shirt. She tipped the copper coins onto her palm. Pretending not to be ableto count, she watched the guard pick coins from her pile. He scrupulously tookthirty-seven without pocketing a couple for himself. Perhaps these excise menwere under some enchantment of honesty after all.

Adijan offered up heart-felt thanks to the All-Seeing Eye and tugged her donkeyaway through the open gateway.

She led her donkey through the maze of narrow, stinking back streets, avoidingthe busy bazaar. She fended off noisy hawkers and shouting beggars. The smokefrom a sizzling brazier made her mouth water, but with the packet under her hat,she wasnt tempted to stop and eat.

The pale stone of the wall around the house of Remarzaman reflected the sun inan eye-watering dazzle. Adijan stopped at the tall iron gates and gaped. Morelike a palace than any normal house, three graceful minarets thrust up fromamongst the plethora of arches, tiled roofs, and balconies. Tame peacocksstrutted around the fountained pool set in a lawn of dark green grass. Theremust be a hell of a lot of money in the magic business. Just when she began towonder how much that packet under her fez was really worth, a brawny man steppedfrom the shadows at the side of the gate.

Greetings, oh glorious sir, Adijan said. I am a courier from the MerchantNabim in Qahtan. I have a delivery for the enchanter.

Give it to me. The guard held out a large, scarred hand.

Glorious sir, my wise and esteemed master needs proof I delivered the package.If you were he, would you trust my word?

The man looked her up and down and spat. He grated back one of the metal gatebolts. Leave the donkey.

Adijan tied the donkey just inside the gates and trotted after the guard. Shecraned her neck to see the splendors of the garden. Surely Paradise itself wouldnot contain such a profusion of greenery and flowers or so many gardeners.Luscious scents hung in the air, including the sweet ripeness of fruit. Herstomach grumbled.

The man led her to a shaded side door and made her wait outside. She satcross-legged on the dusty mat. One day, she decided, she and Shalimar would livein a place like this. She could probably dispense with the peacocks and theirraucous calls, though Shalimar might like them.

Adijan retrieved the precious packet from beneath her hat. Now damp from hersweaty head, it was carefully wrapped in three layers of cloth. It contained apale yellow powder. It wasnt ground mistweed pods, because it tasted faintlysour and hadnt affected her vision.

You are from Nabim?

Adijan looked up at a young man in a spotless white shirt and pantaloons with avibrant blue silk sash around his waist. The upturned toes of his boots flashedwith silver-threaded embroidery. There really must be a mountain of money in themagic business if even the enchanters secretary could afford such princelysplendor.

Adijan scrambled to her knees and bowed until her forehead touched the ground.Oh, great and noble sir, I humbly beg your leave to deliver a package from mymaster, the Merchant Nabim, to your master, the exalted enchanter, Remarzaman.

The young man snapped his fingers. Adijan surrendered the package. He turned itin his hands. It has been opened?

No, sir, Adijan lied. But, forgive me, noble sir, for I did, most clumsily,drop it once. The All-Seeing Eye knows that nothing fell from the package.

Hmm. Well, my master will know if any is missing. Here.

Instead of the cloth of receipt Adijan expected, he dropped a small red leatherbag near her hand. He turned to leave.

Sir! Adijan called. Forgive me. My master requires a receipt.

This final installment completes the payment. What better proof of receipt canthere be than the necklace itself?

He strode off and signaled to the scar-handed gate guard. With the shadow of theguard falling across her, Adijan bowed low to the young mans retreating backand grabbed the leather bag.