Chapter Three
The Curse of My Existence
"Erik. Erik, do wake up."
My eye flew open as I bolted into a sitting position, not knowing at first what had awakened me. At the sensation of Nadir's hand shaking my shoulder, I pressed both hands firmly against my face. A sigh of relief passed from my lips when my fingers came into contact with the soft leather of my mask. The Daroga's presence had sent me into a panic. I most often sleep without wearing my mask. However, this time the façade was firmly in place. I reasoned that I must have fallen a sleep while sketching and did not think to remove it.
"What do you mean intruding upon my privacy, Daroga?" I retorted angrily. "Have I not made myself clear? When I ask to be alone that is precisely what I expect. You know that I am quite worn out from this journey. Can't you see that I am resting?"
"Yes Erik, I can see that very plainly," he replied a bit impatiently. "I merely thought that I would check up on you, as you have been resting for nearly a week. I thought that you might be ill. You haven't eaten anything and-"
"You needn't worry, Daroga," I cut in. The calmness in his reply only served to make my temper flare again, yet I attempted to control myself, wishing to make it known that I had every bit as much equanimity as this Persian imbecile. "I assure you that I am in perfect health," I continued coolly, "although the stench of this ship might bloody well make a man ill. Surely you could have found a faster, more comfortable means of transportation. This is the hospitality that you show me after calling me away from my work? Really Daroga, this is a cargo ship! We have made at least ten stops since boarding this detestable vessel.
"As for my eating habits, that is entirely my affair. I take my nourishment when I am required to do so. I had a sizeable meal only two days ago. It is only necessary to eat once a day, frequently less often than that. I rarely eat more that one meal every two or three days. Really no one needs to eat as often as they do. Most people simply prefer to take two or three meals in a day. They have set their habits, as I have mine, and that is their business." Seeing that the man was about to protest, I held up a hand to silence him. "Would you kindly inform me of the time, Daroga?" I inquired, swiftly changing to a more favorable topic.
"The time?" he repeated. The Persian appeared quite dumbfounded for a moment; then he removed a watch from within his outer robe, glanced at it, and tucked it safely in the spot from which it had come. "It is nearly midnight," he informed me, a look of exasperation clearly etched on his dark features. "We have been on this ship for numerous days, and before that we spent nearly four weeks traveling from Nijni-Novgrod. Surely you cannot object if I bring you a small bit of supper, if not for your sake for my own appeasement."
"Midnight, you say?" I interrupted, not willing to put up with this ridiculous argument. "Then you really must be getting some sleep, Daroga. I admit that I am a bit fatigued myself. I have spent far too many hours on these plans. God alone knows when I will put them to use," I mused aloud with a simple gesture indicating the pile of sketches before me. After gathering the papers together and removing them from the bed where I sat, I found that I was indeed exhausted. At this realization, I lay back on the creaking mattress, attempting to make myself comfortable, a sign for the Persian to leave me in peace. The bed was quite hard, but I had slept in far worse places. "Now do be on your way, Daroga," I commanded, wearily closing my eyes. "I no longer require your services. You may return when we reach the port and not a minute before."
"Yes, Oh Great One," Nadir replied in mock praise. Through half-open eyes I saw him give a scornful bow and then move quickly toward the exit.
I chose to ignore his insolence. Letting out a caustic laugh as I pulled the coarse blanket over my thin body. "And Daroga," I called, stretching lethargically. The Persian turned to look at me once more. I propped myself up with one arm and fixed him with an icy glare. Once I was certain that I had his full attention I gave my finale instructions, "Do knock before you enter this time. I assure you that this journey will end most abruptly and unpleasantly for you should you choose to ignore my warnings and enter my quarters unannounced. Privacy is something in which I place tremendous value. Have I made myself quite clear?"
Nadir merely nodded and then withdrew from the cabin in silent but reluctant acquiescence. When he had gone, I removed my mask and lay back closing my eyes with a somnolent sigh. For once in my life I was thankful for my near lack of a sense of smell. My nose—if you can call it a nose, for it is truthfully more of a black chasm where a nose should be—has never allowed me to smell much of anything, and the disagreeable odder of fish was faint to my senses. As unfavorable as I found my resting place, I managed to fall asleep in a matter of minutes, and I did not awake again until the sound of a fist rapping on the door reached my ears. I knew that the knock was a signal from my traveling companion. After what seemed like ages, we had reached the distant shores of Persia.
When I had my mask in place, I gathered my things, and Nadir led me to the spot where the horses were waiting. Taking the black stallion's lead-rope in my hand, I guided him off of the ship, murmuring soothingly to the animal in my native tongue. The poor creature did not seem to agree with being tied up in the depths of a ship, and he seemed quite glad to be standing on dry land again. At that time, we traveled again by horseback, as we would do for the remainder of our journey. Nadir and I talked very little, and Darius only spoke in reply to his master. After my reiterations of disgust at our former traveling arrangements—that dreadful hulk of a ship—we continued in silence. The foreigners had the sense to leave me to my own thoughts. At length the Daroga spoke, only to inform me of our sleeping arrangements for the night. We would be spending that night outdoors. I made no argument. My only unvoiced complaint was the fact that I would be forced to sleep while wearing that suffocating mask yet again. After a dreadfully uncomfortable night, we continued on our way, silently as before.
After several hours Nadir spoke, again to inform me of the progress of our journey. "We will reach the village in about five minutes," he told me in a pleasant tone. "Tonight we will be staying in an inn, and tomorrow you will come with me to my home in Ashraf. The Shah will not miss you for a few more days, and I have promised my son, Diya, that he would be the first to meet the great magician from abroad."
I smiled in response to his comment. This reaction obviously shocked the Daroga.
"How old is your son?" I asked, attempting to pass the time with some sort of conversation. Our journey had been quite dull for the last two days, as neither of us had spoken a word in quite some time and I had refrained from taking my customary detours. And somehow, there arose in my heart a desire to befriend the man with whom I traveled, although I doubted that that was possible. Friends were one thing that I did not make easily. If my harsh temper and scathing remarks did not drive them away, one look at my face did the job. Enemies were plentiful, but I had scarcely had a companion in my life.
"He is ten years old," Nadir told me, "though I might as well warn you that he is not like other children. He has a severe disease which is slowly taking away his sight as well has his ability to walk. He is a joyful child by nature, but even Diya is beginning to run out of hope that he will one day be healed. All that he wants is to be able to run and play with the other children. He will tell you that without hesitation."
"Has he seen a doctor?" I inquired in genuine concern.
"Oh yes, many doctors," he replied sadly, "but none of them seem to know what to do for him. They have never seen a case like his. To be perfectly frank, Persia is not exactly known for the skills of our doctors. Nearly everyone in the Royal Court relies upon foreign physicians."
My eyes conveyed my condolences. "Perhaps there is something I can do for him," I said hesitantly. "I know quite a bit about medicine. Mind you, what I do know I learned from scanning through a few medical books belonging to one of my mother's-" I paused, loathing the memory of the doctor to whom my mother had become so attached only months after my father's death. "…One of my mother's friends," I continued, quickly pushing those bitter memories aside. "And I learned quite a lot from my time with the gypsies. I am hardly a refined physicians, but perhaps I may be of some assistance."
The Daroga looked at me hopefully; then he glanced upward, clasping his hands in thanks. "Allah be praised," he murmured. "At last our prayers have been answered." His gaze then returned to me. "Would you please take a look at him when we arrive at my home?" he asked with a new light in his eyes. "The doctors say that he will grow out of his illness. Perhaps you can help to speed up the recovery. Erik?"
"Of course," I replied, "but I can make no guarantees that I can heal him. I am a magician after all, not Allah."
At the conclusion of this phrase, we continued the journey in silence. He seemed more hopeful now, almost lighthearted. I only prayed—something that I did not do often—that I hadn't given him false hope in my abilities as a physician. In my heart, I envied this boy who I had not yet meant. I wondered what it would be like to have a father who cared for me that much. I had scarcely known my father, due to his early death and my mother's insistence that he never look at my face. Madeleine, my mother, certainly could not be said to love me as the Daroga seemed to love his son. No, she would have sooner seen me dead that grant me even a simple kiss. My eyes filled with tears, but I blinked them back stubbornly and rode on in reticence.
When we reached the inn, Nadir gave a knock on the door. An older woman dressed in traditional garments and veils opened the door and asked us to enter. A servant boy swept to our side, bowing and telling us that he would care for the horses. I gave him strict instructions to take excellent care of my treasure. Moon-dancer was all the family that I had, and I would not tolerate anything but the best care for him.
With these instructions, I followed Nadir and the woman into the inn. It was small, but comfortable, and better yet, I would have the comfort of solitude. Darius was sent to another portion of the inn and I did not see him again until we departed the following morning. After I had placed my things in the room where I would be staying, I requested a bath, as I felt quite shabby from the long journey. My companion nodded his approval and agreed that bathing would do him some good as well. When I returned with a clean suit of clothing, three servant girls in scanty attire were summonsed to take us to our baths. They stared warily at my mask and whispered to one another. After some short conversation between them, one went with Nadir while the other two beckoned apprehensively to me. Most likely they did not feel safe alone with a masked stranger. Neither of the women lay a finger on me as they led me away, although I noticed the third girl regarding the Persian quite differently. However, I was quite use to this treatment from women. They always seemed to fear me.
"Meet me in the dinning hall when you are finished," Nadir called after me as we headed in two separate directions.
"I will," I called back.
I followed my escorts in silence, my eyes fixed on the walls rather than the women and their alluring apparel. I was glad that they left me alone in the large bathroom. At first I was not quite sure what their job was, and I was thankful that they did not attempt to assist me in bathing. Once I was alone I undressed, removing my mask last. Then I slowly lowered myself into the warm water. Ah, that felt simply marvelous. I washed the dust from my hair first and then the rest of my body. Then I simply lay in the tub, allowing the warm water to work its healing powers on my tired muscles.
I could have fallen asleep right there, but then I remembered Nadir. By this time he had surely finished his bath and would likely be waiting for me in the dinning hall. Reluctantly, I left the soothing water and dried off with a towel that was lying on a nearby bench. Then I slipped into my clean suit, which was also neatly folded on the bench. I put on my boots and took my other clothing back to the room with my belongings. With that, I headed to the dinning hall. It was not hard to find in so small an inn. Nadir sat at a corner table. There were only a few other people in the room, for which I was grateful. I quickly made my way to the table. I noticed that he had not touched any of the food yet.
"I hope I have not kept you waiting long," I said, taking a seat across from him.
"Not at all," my guide replied.
We began eating, talking pleasantly now. The food was different from anything I had tasted before, but to my liking. The mango juice that we had to drink was agreeable; however, after the long trip I only wanted was a good glass of French wine.
"Nadir," I asked, pushing the glass aside, "do they serve any wine here?"
He looked at me in surprise. "There is a kind of strong drink called arrack here in Persia. I am sure that it is nothing like what you are used to in your home country, but I presume they serve it here. My beliefs do not allow me to drink, but I can ask the servants for you if you wish."
I asked him to do so and he called to a girl who was walking by with a bowl of fruit. She was quite lovely; I could not help but notice. The girl was very attentive to the Persian and like most women, apprehensive around me. She brought me a bottle of that strange drink, along with a glass. I thanked her in her native tongue. Without a single word, the girl quickly turned and rushed off to another table, a look of horror coming over her face. I shrugged my shoulders in practiced apathy, very much used to this reaction from women. It was the curse of my existence to repel all members of the opposite gender. The fact that I was accustomed to rejection did not mean that it did not still wound me, but fortunately, my mask aided me in hiding my feelings most of the time. I then poured myself a glass of arrack. It was my first that evening, but definitely not my last. I hardly touched another bite of my food, but I cannot say the same for the liquor. The last I remember, the bottle was half empty.