Welcome to the Forty Thieves
Sa'Luk slammed him against the cliff wall. Aladdin screamed as Sa'Luk dug his brass claw into his back and pulled down. Pain seared through him, hot blood ran down his back.
"So much for the son of the King of Thieves," Sa'Luk hissed in his ear.
In a last effort, Aladdin stepped hard on Sa'Luk's foot. The thief growled in pain, but released the claw from his back, giving Aladdin the moment he needed to maneuver.
He quickly drew his dagger and turned, shoving the dagger into Sa'Luk's neck. A strangled choke left Sa'Luk's lips. Aladdin grimaced at the squelch of the dagger sliding into the man's throat. Hot blood gushed from the puncture, spraying him in the face, splattering against his chest, running down his wrists.
Sa'Luk became deadweight, his body falling forward.
Aladdin tried to shove him away, but he slipped in the pool of blood and fell, Sa'Luk crashing on top of him. He cried out as his head banged against the hard stone.
"My son wins!" Aladdin heard his father say. Suddenly, multiple thieves surrounded him, shoving Sa'Luk's body off him, and hoisted him up. His head spun.
"Take him to the infirmary," Cassim continued, "Can't have our newest member bleeding all over the food and furniture."
The cliffs and the Thieves around him blurred. Pain throbbed. Without warning, his vision went black.
Aladdin awoke to stone beneath him and the jolt of cold water washing over him. He cried out as his wounds stung.
"Good, you're awake," he heard his father's voice say. Aladdin turned his head to see Cassim kneeling in front of him, an empty bucket in hand.
"You nearly had me killed," Aladdin spat. He tried to rise, but pain shot through his back, keeping him grounded on his stomach.
Cassim stood over his son, one leg on each side, slit holes in the shoulders of Aladdin's tunic and began to pull.
Aladdin's instinctual shame took over. He tried to pull his tunic tighter over himself, to roll away, but pain like fire kept him rooted.
"No, don't—" he begged. His heart rent in shame as his tunic tore.
"I have to clean the wounds," Cassim answered. He stopped at the sight of old whipping scars lancing across his son's back. He sighed, grabbed a bottle from the floor, uncorked it, and poured the contents over the fresh claw marks.
Aladdin screamed as fire licked its way down his back. "What are you doing—?"
"Raki," Cassim said, "Homemade. It hurts like the ten hells on wounds, but we usually knock a few shots back before applying it. Less pain that way. With you, there wasn't time. This way I know it's working."
Aladdin grit his teeth and groaned. "Why are you bothering to patch me up when you're the one who almost had me killed?"
"That challenge has been a Forty Thieves rule since before my time. I didn't make that up."
Cassim took Aladdin's hand and slowly pulled him up from the floor. He then guided him to a cot and had his son lay face down. Cassim grabbed the herbs and mortar and pestle from the shelves against the wall and placed them on the end table next to the cot. Next, he dragged a stool over and sat down.
Aladdin watched his father place the herbs in the mortar like it was second nature, barely glancing at the amounts. He added a small amount of oil from a pitcher and ground the mixture, twisting the pestle, its scrape against the mortar soft.
"If Sa'Luk had had his way," Cassim continued, "he would have killed you on the spot for finding us out, regardless of whether or not you were my son. The challenge was the only thing I could think of to give you a chance."
"How do you even know I am your son?" Aladdin replied, "It's my word against yours."
"How do you know I'm your father?" Cassim countered, "You've never seen me your entire life."
"Because you left!" Aladdin cracked.
Cassim winced and grabbed a weather smoothed piece of driftwood. He held it to Aladdin's mouth.
"I have to apply the poultice. It will speed healing. Bite down on this; it'll be painful."
Cassim watched his son's eyes move from the wood to him, emotions flashing. "Do you trust me, or don't you?" he continued.
A small light flickered in Aladdin's eyes. He sighed, opened his mouth and clamped his teeth into the wood.
"You have your mother's eyes…and her kind spirit," Cassim said, "That's how I know you're my son."
Aladdin tensed, arched as his father applied the poultice, pain searing, burning as it melted into him, setting his blood alight. The wood cracked beneath his teeth. Tears pierced through his clenched shut eyes, his raw agonizing screams echoed off the walls.
The pain changed. Once a constant searing throbbing, now a hard constant ache, punctured by tiny slicing stings. Consciousness told him to move. Something. Anything.
Pressure held down his head. "Don't move," Cassim's voice demanded, "You'll tear the stitches."
Aladdin moaned and hissed at the pain of another stitch sliding through his skin.
"The Oracle told me who you were," he breathed, "Seeing your face was like looking into a mirror…except for the eyes. That's how I know you're my father."
Silence passed between them.
"Why did you leave us?" Aladdin said, his voice small.
Cassim sighed as he tied one claw mark closed. "I was no one to speak of; forced to do the most menial of tasks, to scrape by just to put food on the table, a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs. I wanted more for us than that. I had a sharp mind and quick hands; a local group of bandits hired me out to do their dirty work and gave me a cut. When I proved myself trustworthy, they revealed themselves to be some of the Forty. They gave me the choice: make a name for myself and make my family proud, or take a one-time cut and go back to a life of hardship."
"You chose selfishly."
"Yes, I did." Cassim replied, "I told myself it was all for you and your mother, so you wouldn't have to know the life of a street rat—"
"You condemned me to that life the minute you chose yourself over us!" Aladdin swallowed the lump in his throat. "You broke Ama's heart," his voice cracked, "She died without honor because of you."
Cassim paused in his threading. "Son—"
"My name is Aladdin."
"…I did return, once, only to find your mother dead and you gone without a trace…" He sighed. "…if I had known…what I wouldn't give…"
"I had no teacher," Aladdin spat, "No one to teach me how to be a man. I had to learn everything alone." Tears trickled down his nose. "I wish I'd never found you."
Cassim sighed as he finished stitching the last claw mark. He winced at his son's pained groans as he poured more Raki over the wounds, one last cleaning. He took clean strips of linen and bound the wounds, tying them tightly. When he had finished, he stood.
"I'll return in the morning. We'll leave for Agrabah at first light."