CHAPTER SEVEN: THE BEST JEANNIE
A/N: Sorry this is taking so long to update. Between writer's block and so many other projects, this story is progressing sloowwwllyyy...but fear not, dear readers: I am sticking with it. Thanks for all those who either reviewed or cited this story with an Author Alert, Story Alert, or Favorite Story! You guys are fantastic!
Just to let you know...neither Tony nor Roger are in this chapter. (They are taking a break while Major Nelson figures out what to do.)
For disclaimers, see chapter one.
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The Palace was relatively empty that day just as it had been for the past week since the Princess had gone. The Sultan, Abed Jahu-Latar, was normally a jolly old man. He celebrated his one and only daughter every day. When she sang, or smiled, or shared some witty phrase with him, he knew that the heavens equally approved with their sunshine even when the glowing star that warmed the ground was tucked beneath the clouds.
But when she had run away, the heavy floods came, bringing devastating showers. Or worse, like it had been yesterday and the day before, the sun had beat down the plants and flowers in an all consuming drought. Even when the weather was pleasant, which had been a rare occurrence since Jalisha's disappearance, the Sultan had not known the all consuming happiness when the Princess was near, and neither had his many subjects.
He had prayed constantly these few weeks for the Princess's safe return. Ever since she had been born, Jalisha became more and more like the dearly departed Sultana. The kindhearted Queen had been gone the past eleven years ever since the Princess's seventh birthday. But the Sultan, while he did mourn, was not as unhappy as he might have been, because every time he saw his offspring Jalisha, he was thankful to Allah for the diminutive duplicate of his beloved wife.
Now, though, the shadow of death loomed. It was not that he was sick; no, he enjoyed abundant health despite his heaviness and over abundant eating of all the unhealthy foods. But he was old. He knew it was a foolish thing he'd done: waiting to marry later in life.
The Monarch had been twenty three years the Sultana's senior. Although the joy of life and the richness of a sense of humor filled his mind and spirit had slowed the aging process he had seen in the neighboring Sultans, along with a predisposition to see the good in everyone and everything even if they sometimes were evil, he knew that it was only a matter of time. It was only a matter of months, if not a few years, before his exuberant and still somewhat energetic body was six feet under the ground.
Sultan Abed Jahu-Latar was already approaching his sixty-ninth birthday and his loveable yet extremely strong willed daughter had rejected every suitor that had been presented for her. He sighed, realizing that it had been her mother, more than likely, who had filled the Princess's head with notions that love must precede an eligible match, even if the husband had a handsome face and figure with gold and palaces to wit. The Majesty did not see the harm in that, since he and his dead wife Jaranah had known love that only fairy stories on scrolls had proclaimed was real.
But why, the Sultan had bemoaned daily after his daughter Jalisha's last birthday, was it taking so long for her to choose a mate? Did a husband have to have looks, be intelligent and a good conversationalist, and be a doting man and father to any children all at the same time?
And why, if he possessed those qualities but had a fault like not having two drakmahs to rub together, was that fine with Jalisha? Why could he not at least have the riches life had to offer so that he could be a great provider for his daughter after the Sultan went to the great palace Allah prepared for the King in the sky?
Perhaps that was why he seemed to be looking favorably at the marriage of his child to Jaffey, his illustrious Grand Vizier and Chief Minister of Affairs. Jaffey was almost as old as the Sultan, and at times could have a tendency toward meanness etched in his eyes. But he fit the three criteria the King needed: he was available, he could provide all the comforts the ruler wanted for his daughter, and he at least showed respect for his King if not adoration. King Abed Jahu-Latar was also pleased at the little gifts of devotion Jaffey lavished on his daughter, particularly lately.
Jaffey also had a magnetic persona that not only the Sultan but the guards respected. The Grand Vizier had a natural charm that influenced any one and anything into doing things for him, including the Monarch himself. The only one not falling under Jaffey's spell was his quick tempered daughter, Jalisha. That was something the Sultan just did not understand.
Well, he mentally reasoned, as they say: if the mountain will not go to Mohammed, then it is Mohammed that must come to the mountain. Under Jaffey's tutelage, the King was ready to press the issue, despite Jalisha's objections. The Sultan prayed he would be strong enough to weather his daughter's anger and beyond that her disappointment. He hated denying the one person he loved more than his own self her freedom of choice.
The King sighed, ready to face his child if she ever returned courtesy of Jaffey. He smiled, glad that his Prime Minister loved Jalisha as much as the Sultan did. Grand Vizier Jaffey paid such affections and compliments toward his offspring, especially during the Princess's seventeenth year, that when she became eighteen the King did not know why he had not seen sooner that the suddenly lovesick older man who was his second-in-command would make the perfect son-in-law.
Once his daughter was settled with the right man, the heavens would smile again.
The Sultan had not taken two steps when the door swung open, courtesy of a huge guard. Princess Jalisha stormed into the room with Jaffey, several guards, and two people the King did not know in her wake.
"Father! I would speak with you! You sent Jaffey and the guards to capture me like an escaped infidel! How dare you do that!" Jalisha snapped.
Jaffey looked sheepish as he said, "My love, I thought I had explained all of that. I am really sorry that I sent out the guards! It was only a precaution; you could have been beset by the worst sort of people!"
Glaring at Jaffey, Jalisha placed her hands on her hips and retorted, "You mean besides the person facing me?"
"Jalisha!" Her father's stern rebuke came, "my Prime Minister would not have had to search for you if you had stayed at the palace, where you belonged!" The Sultan finally addressed the newcomers.
"And, by Allah, who are these people?" he thundered, pointing a stubby finger at Jeannie and Mahrouf.
Jaffey bowed low before the King. "They are common criminals, most Illustrious One. They were with the Princess, and I was bringing them back for sentencing by her command," the Grand Vizier said, not raising his head.
The Sultan walked toward the pair, scrutinizing them. "Your Highness," the Captain of the Guard said, "perhaps you should not stand so close. They may have weapons concealed."
Abuh Jahu-Latar spun around and cast a baleful stare at his Captain. The Captain fell silent. His hazel eyes regarded the man and his fair accomplice. "It does not look as though they have weapons, Captain," the Sultan said. "Speak, sir: who are you, and what is your business?"
Mahrouf answered, his voice never wavering, "I am Mahrouf, a cobbler."
"You sound as though you are not from this province," the King remarked.
"I am not," the cobbler responded. "I come from the province of Mahdu, in the South."
"He was running from us," the Captain reported.
"Is this true?" the Sultan asked. Mahrouf nodded.
"I was frightened," he replied truthfully.
The Princess had heard enough. "Father," she said, "does it matter what he crime he has committed, if he is even guilty of any! I am the one who ran away; I am the one who should be punished!"
"No, your Majesty!" Mahrouf shouted, then he lowered his voice. "She should not have to suffer for an honest transgression, particularly if she promises never to do it again!"
The Sultan showed surprise at Mahrouf's outburst. He seemed extremely inclined to want to defend his daughter, yet the King did not know why. Jalisha smiled her gratitude at Mahrouf. He slightly blushed, amazed by her beauty yet again.
"Father, I beseech you: at least hear their stories before sentencing them, as well as my own!" the Princess said.
The Sultan went to his throne, a white chair with a red pillow trimmed with gold. He considered his daughter's words. Although he was impatient to get to the business at hand regarding Jaffey's marriage to his daughter, the Monarch was at least willing to listen to the newcomers.
"Very well," the Sultan commanded Mahrouf, "come forward. Let me hear your tale."
Mahrouf willed his fear to the back of his mind as much as he was able. "Yes, oh most Exalted One," he said.
Jaffey cut in front of him, saying, "Your Highness, don't! This man is a liar! He could say anything to get his way!"
"Jaffey, be silent!" the Sultan's rebuke came to his Prime Minister. "My daughter believes in him. For the time being, that is enough!"
Jaffey held his tongue; outwardly, he was the picture of tranquility, but inwardly, he was furious that his King would take the position of trusting his daughter over him, especially since Jaffey had gone through so much trouble to condition the Sultan.
Time to give him another treatment, Jaffey thought. Meanwhile, the Sultan's eyes were straying to Jeannie.
"What have you to say, woman?" he barked.
Jeannie thought about using her magic, but she didn't want to get anyone in trouble, and her lessons living with Tony had been well ingrained into her (at least enough so that she didn't use her powers when people who didn't know about her were present). Still, she looked to her new master, waiting for a command. When none came, she looked at the Sultan.
"Your Highness, I am his cousin, from back East," Jeannie began. "We tried to run away only because we feared the might of your guards as my family member said. If you doubt us, then by all means, arrest us and put us away, but please discover the truth before you act! That is all I ask."
King Jatar nodded. He signaled for two guards to come forward. When they came, he ordered, "take them away and put them upstairs in the room on the northern side of the palace!" The guards were astonished that they were not confined to a dungeon but they did as the Sultan asked. Mahrouf and Jeannie were taken away.
When they were gone, the Princess said, "thank you Father for not putting them in the lower level."
The Sultan smiled at his daughter, but waved a cautionary finger at her, saying, "this is only temporary, until I discover the truth! And you, you little hellion, get to your room and stay there until further notice."
The Princess walked with a bounce in her step. The fact that Mahrouf and his cousin were not harmed pleased her greatly, especially the man. She went to her room to await the lecture she knew her father would give, her face resolute and determined.
In the throne room, the Sultan buried his face in his hands. "Oh, Jaffey..." he said to his trusted official, "tell me that once she is married off she will lose her stubbornness."
Jaffey bowed low and signaled to a guard, who left the room. "I guarantee it, Your Highness," he said. A moment later, the guard entered with a tall chalice.
"You look stressed," the Grand Vizier pronounced, handing the chalice to the King. "This will calm you."
The Sultan took it gratefully, saying, "Ahh, my favorite drink." He drank the liquid, breathing, "exquisite."
Jaffey smiled evilly. He dismissed the remaining guards. When he and the ruler were alone, the Prime Minister studied him. The Sultan looked peaceful...blank, in fact.
"And now, Your Highness, I will tell you what you should do about your daughter and the prisoners..." Jaffey started saying. The Sultan absorbed every command.