Yasmina

When they entered the gates of Alexandria, Yasmina looked around at all the people bustling about on their errands and commented. “This city is alive, industrious. Not like the lazy places and villages we have visited.”

“It is full of Greeks and Turks. There are plenty of Christians and some Jews mingled in,” Aisha agreed, and pointed to several things, including a church.

“Very cosmopolitan,” Yasmina named it as they came to the market area and she got to look at many faces. Aisha continued to point out various things and people, but Yasmina zeroed in on one face in particular.

“Hold up,” al-Rahim said as they had to wait for a handful of armed men who crossed the street in front of them. Yasmina hardly noticed. Her eyes focused on the old man, and after a moment, it struck her.

“You there, Jinn,” Yasmina pointed at the old man and the old man looked startled. Yasmina stopped moving so Aisha stopped. The guards stopped, and only al-Rahim out front rode another twenty feet before he noticed and came back. “Yes, you. What are you doing here?”

“Who? Me?” The old man asked and pointed to himself. His eyes went wide with either shock or surprise, and he looked around to see people who paused to watch.

“Lady,” Aisha looked and sounded offended. “We do not traffic with such creatures.”

“Ah,” the old man seemed to understand something. “A spirit of light.”

“You do not belong here,” Yasmina said. “How did you get here? What are you doing here?”

The old man looked around at the people who were becoming curious about this exchange. “I can explain, only please, not here. I will take you to my master’s house and make all matters clear. Come.” He turned and waved for them to follow. “Come, come.”

Yasmina walked her horse after the man, so the others fell in behind her, but al-Rahim had to say something. “Princess?”

“It will be all right, I think,” Yasmina said. “But I may have to do something terrible if I don’t get a good answer.”

After a short way, they came to a gate and entered into the courtyard of a home which appeared to be a palace of sorts. Servants came to collect the horses, and al-Rahim only had to threaten them a little to take good care of their steeds and things. “And if anything is missing, you will be missing your heads,” he said. In that time and place that was only a little threat.

The old man Jinn took them inside to a large room with many cushions and tables set for guests, and he spoke. “I will just go and see about refreshments.”

“You will stay here,” Yasmina said sharply. “I don’t want you out of sight before I get an explanation.” She sat and the others sat with her except al-Rahim who fingered his knife.

“Very well,” the old man did not argue. He clapped for servants and gave instructions before he sat to face his guests. “How is it that you, a mere mortal should see through my disguise?” he asked.

Yasmina was not distracted. “What are you doing here? I know in the past Solomon the Great attached many of your kind to rings and lamps, whatever came to hand, and many jugs and jars where you were sealed in with his great seal. I also know, in the last days of the gods your kind were sent over to the other side, to the land of fire and sand, and a great veil was placed against your return. I also know that no Jinn has the power to pierce that veil and return to this world. It takes a great power on this side to bring one of you back to this Earth. So how did you get here and what are you doing here?”

The old man widened his eyes again in shock or surprise. “Who are you to be so wise, to know the ways of the Jinn?”

Aisha, who frowned in the Jinn’s presence, spoke plainly. “She is the Kairos, the Traveler in Time, the Watcher over History.”

The old man fell to his face and prostrated himself. “Al-Khidr,” he called her.

Yasmina gave Aisha a dirty look and spoke, trying to put kindness in her voice. “Sit up. Tell me your story. Make it a good one, but be honest, hard as that may be for you.”

The old man sat up slowly as he began. “You know, the Jinn do not live forever. We may live thousands of years, but we are not immortal. Neither are we gods, though we may appear that way to some because of the power we possess. I was one who was neither good nor bad. I was selfish and full of pride, and I used my skills to my advantage over the mortal world. It was Solomon himself who turned my pride against me and trapped me in a lamp.” He held out his hands and the lamp appeared in his palms. He set it gently on the table between them.

“Did you not go to the other side?” Al-Rahim asked as he finally took a seat.

“I did,” he said. “And for two thousand years, trapped in the lamp, and I contemplated all I had done in my days. I… I reformed and vowed if I had a chance to live again on the Earth, I would do good for others what I would have them do for me. Sadly, I was reaching my final days and began to despair. It was the god Abraxas two hundred years ago who reached out to the land of the Jinn and rescued me. I believe he wanted a Jinn he could easily control, like me being tied to the lamp. I do not know what wicked plans he had, but when I would not cooperate, he threw me away.”

“Did you wonder what he wanted?” Yasmina asked.

The old Jinn shook his head. “But being discarded, my despair grew a hundred-fold. Here I was in the land of the living, but I remained trapped in the lamp and saw no way to escape. I was found and used to bring light to a home, a small consolation, but then one day, a young beggar boy stole me from my place. He cleaned me up to sell, and in rubbing me, he set me free. I accepted him as my master, and I have served faithfully ever since. I have accepted young al-Din as like a son to me, and he is in love.”

“Wait,” Aisha said, while Yasmina put her face in the palm of her hand for thinking about it. “This is not the home of a beggar boy.”

“My master wanted to be rich,” the old Jinn said. “His father slaved for al-Zaatar, who ruled this place. He was not treated well, which is why the young son had to beg in the streets. It was a simple thing to convince the old man al-Zaatar to make his faithful servant the elder al-Din his heir since the man had no children. Al-Zaatar died within the year. The next year, the elder al-Din passed away and the young man inherited it all, though he was but sixteen years. He is presently eighteen and at one of his properties, but he should be returning shortly, and you can meet him.”

“Tough luck having his father die like that, right after gaining all this,” Harun said, and al-Asad agreed.

The old Jinn ran his fingers through his beard and looked at the table. “So I have come to understand. Human mortals live such short lives as it is. I thought a few years before his time would not matter, but I see now that they hold on to life for as long as they can, maybe because it is so short.”

“So, is he happy now?” Aisha asked.

The old Jinn shook his head. “But there is hope,” he said. “He has fallen in love with the Lady Badroul, though he has only seen her a few times. I believe the young lady also loves him from afar, but she is just fourteen, so it will be a few years before she is old enough to marry. She is also the daughter of the Governor of Alexandria and the Sharif of all this land. That might be a problem, but not a difficult one.”

Yasmina finally removed the palm from her face. “So, she is Badroulbadour, daughter of the Sultan of Egypt, and you are the genie of the lamp, and you serve Ala al-Din, or as some say, Aladdin. Is this not so?”

The old Jinn shrugged. “I do not know some of those words, but I suppose that is about it.”

“How can I be so lucky?” Yasmina said with a great amount of sarcasm, and everyone looked at her, wondering what else she might know.

The old Jinn lifted a hand to regain their attention. “Love is the most mysterious thing in the universe. It is so simple and so complex. But there is one thing standing in the way of the young lovers. Suffar is a great man who has gained the ear of the governor. He has become the chief advisor… “

“Vizir,” Yasmina corrected. “But I thought he was Jafar.”

The old Jinn nodded. “He has his eyes on Badroul for his own son, though the boy is presently only fifteen. He needs a few years as does she. So, that is the complication, not the least because Suffar is a wicked and powerful sorcerer.”

“Of course, he is,” Yasmina said and threw her hands up.

The younger al-Din proved to be as good and kind a young man as Yasmina expected. They stayed with him for three days before they moved to the governor’s palace. Yasmina, though only seventeen, found the eighteen-year-old Ala al-Din rather childish about some things. She found his Roman friend, however, enchanting. Unfortunately, the twenty-one-year-old was a Christian, but Yasmina thought, well, no one is perfect. She was surprised how easily the name Francesco d’Amalfi fit on her tongue.

************************

MONDAY

Kirstie and Yrsa discover the real target of the Vikings is the monastery at Lindisfarne. Somehow, they have to get Father McAndrews and warn the people there. Until Monday, Happy Reading.

*