THE LION, THE CAT AND THE TURTLES
Based on Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
by Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird
and
The Chronicles of Narnia
by C. S. Lewis.
CHAPTER EIGHT:
Asheena's Story
Ardazhin Tisroc, the current -- and hopefully eternal, as his subjects would always hurry to add -- ruler of Calormen, was a man who had everything. Or at least as close to "everything" as a man could have.
He was the unquestioned ruler of the greatest and mightiest country in this world, he was by far the richest and most respected (or at least feared) man in Calormen, and he was also blessed with a youth and strength that lesser men would have given anything for; he was approaching his sixty-eighth year and yet he didn't look a day over thirty. He had many wives -- all the loveliest, most delightful young women you ever saw -- and so many children that he could hardly count them. He had slaves and servants by the hundreds.
And he also had a secret; a deep, dark secret that, for all his wealth and grandness, had given him many a sleepless night for fear that it would be discovered.
This secret was the main reason why he was, at present, rushing down the corridors of his great palace, followed by several of his bravest and strongest sons, towards the Forbidden Wing -- the one place in the palace where only Ardazhin Tisroc himself and a select few of his most trusted guards were allowed to go.
"O my Father, delight of my eye, may you live forever," his oldest son panted. "Why are we racing towards the Forbidden Wing like this? Surely your guards, mighty as they are, must have subdued the demon by now!"
"Display not your ignorance, o my son, lest people will call you a new Rabadash!" Ardazhin replied harshly. Though his life was largely one of leisure, he was in almost ridiculously good shape and had no problems speaking without panting, even while running at top speed. "Demons are cunning and powerful creatures, and demons coming from Narnia are worse than any! He will stop at nothing to get the Box of Doom for himself, and if it falls into Narnian hands, o my esteemed idiot of a son, our lovely Calormen is lost! We cannot take any undue risks! So cease your questions and run!"
"To hear is to obey," the son panted, and said no more.
As they came to the Forbidden Wing, a most strange sight greeted them: There, in the corridor in front of them, were the guards that had been sent up to subdue the terrible demon, all frozen and stiff like statues in various poses that spoke of a ferocious battle.
"It must be the work of the demon!" one of the sons exclaimed. "He has turned all the guards into stone even as they attacked him!"
"Not the demon..." came a weak voice from the floor, and both Ardazhin and his sons turned to see one guard, who had apparently escaped whatever petrification spell had been placed upon the others. "It was Lady Asheena."
"What did you just say?!" Ardazhin snapped, turning to him and hoping that his voice didn't betray how terrified he felt. "What is this about Lady Asheena?!"
"Lady Asheena," the guard replied, struggling to sit up. "My lord Tisroc -- may you live forever -- Lady Asheena, your wife... She is... she is not human! She is a Djinn!"
Ardazhin's heart skipped a beat. "O my sons!" he managed to sputter. "Put this dog of a guard to death immediately for daring to speak such slanderous words against one of my wives and your mothers!"
"To hear is to obey," the sons chorused, advancing on the guard with drawn scimitars.
"I speak the truth!" the guard yelled, despair obvious in his eyes. "Most honorable Tisroc -- may you live forever -- I speak nothing but the truth! A barbarian woman stole the Box of Doom, and opened it, but instead of the sky falling as you, o my eternal Master, have always claimed it would, a cloud of red smoke emerged and turned into Lady Asheena, who immediately swore her pledge of slavery and obedience to the barbarian woman! She petrified all the guards apart from myself and then vanished together with the woman and her three demons! She is a Djinn!"
Ardazhin would have cursed, if he'd thought he could have gotten away with it and not lose dignity. "Hold your swords, o my sons!" he commanded. "This poor man is obviously delusional and says things that cannot be -- it must be the demon who has confused his mind. You," he said, pointing at his youngest son (whose name he'd certainly be able to recall after a few moments' thought). "Take him with you to the garden and give him some wine. Listen not to his insane ramblings -- Asheena is no Djinn! It is all demon trickery!"
"To hear is to obey," said the youngest son.
"The rest of you, follow me," said Ardazhin. "The Box of Doom must be recovered from the demon at all costs!"
He knew that it was probably already too late, but he was not going to give up just yet. There would be plenty of time later to curse and weep and damn the gods for having sent this fate upon him.
Donatello woke up with the distinct and very uncomfortable feeling that he knew what it felt like to be a statue.
He blinked to clear his head and found that he was in a small, brightly-lit marble room -- not unlike the one he had unexpectedly found himself in less than half an hour ago, except for the lack of carpets, tapestries and, well, anything else. April, Raphael and Splinter were there as well (Splinter uncharacteristically looking about as dizzy and confused as Don felt), along with a skimpily-dressed young woman he had never seen before.
"What happened?" he said, unable to think of anything else to say. "Where are we now?"
"I believe you took the words out of my mouth, Donatello," said Splinter.
"We're... safe," said April. "We're in one of the back rooms of the palace, it seems."
"The same palace with all those guards who were fighting us just now?" Don muttered. "No offense, April, but you have a weird definition of the word 'safe.'"
"Oh, this is perfectly safe," said the strange woman, in perfectly fluent English but with the same strange accent that Don had heard from the guards. "This is a minor storage room. It has not been in use for close to twenty years."
"Um, Don, Splinter, meet Asheena," said April, motioning to the woman. "Apparently, she's my new genie."
"Genie?!" said Don, blinking and looking at the strange woman, whose name was apparently Asheena. She looked the part, he had to admit, in a harem-girl outfit, complete with slightly transparent pants, a midriff-baring halter top and a red-and-gold vest that was plainly there more for decoration than actually covering anything. The only two things missing were the veil in front of her face and the diamond in her bellybutton -- if she'd had those, she could have come straight out of some Arabian Nights movie, possibly as an exotic dancer or slave girl (or young wife) to some rich sultan.
"I prefer 'Djinn,' if you don't mind," she said, bowing. "The word 'genie' is essentially a corruption of the real term."
"This is most astounding," said Splinter, bowing to Asheena after taking a long look at her face, as if to make sure he wasn't lying. "Forgive me, lady Asheena. I had not known the stories of Djinn were true."
"Gotta admit, it fits with the scenery," Raph commented. "Moment I looked out of the window, I knew we'd dropped into Aladdin! So why not a genie?"
Straightening herself, Asheena laughed. "Methinks you are a little confused, o green one. You are in Tashbaan, capital of the fair land of Calormen, and most assuredly not in Aladdin, wherever that is... Is that your home world?"
"Home world?" said Don. "Wait, you know that we're from a different world?"
"You do have the air of other-worldly travellers about you," said Asheena.
"Could you... get us back there?"
"Certainly, if such is my Mistress's wish."
"Hold on," said April suddenly. "You keep saying I'm your Mistress. But -- why?"
Asheena looked genuinely surprised. "Why, you hold the box in your hands, do you not? I am compelled to be the slave of whoever owns that box."
"It was more or less an accident," said April. "The box isn't really mine, I just --"
"Mistress, I do not think you quite understand," said Asheena gently. "The box is in your possession, and that alone is enough to makes you its rightful owner. But why so reluctant? All my previous Masters and Mistresses have been delighted to have a Djinn in their service. I will serve you without failure. Speak, and it shall be done."
"But -- I don't get it," said April. "Why is the box so important? What makes you obey its owner?"
Asheena paused, rubbing her chin. "That," she said eventually, "is a long story. You really know nothing about the Djinn? The curse of the Slave-Djinn?" She looked at April, then at the others.
Splinter shook his head. "I am afraid that we know only the stories that are told in our world, and even they are vague on many details."
"I will tell you, then," said Asheena. "Please, sit down." She snapped her fingers, and all of a sudden, with four puffs of red smoke, four cushioned chairs appeared in the room.
Don looked at the chairs in astonishment. He reached out a hand and touched one of them, and it felt like a completely normal chair. "Okay, I'm impressed," he said.
"Oh, this is nothing," said Asheena cheerfully. "But please, sit -- and I will tell you the story."
Nowadays, nobody could ever say for certain where the Djinn originally came from. The popular theory in this world was that they were descended from Lilith, Adam's first wife, and as such the closest thing to a human without actually being human; but there were other theories, more prominent in other worlds, that stated that they had originally been spirits of fire before taking on other forms, or that the first Djinn had been minor gods but had bred and over the centuries become a completely different race.
What was certain was that the Djinn were an ancient and powerful race, very adaptable and stronger in magic than most. And like many other races, they spread through many worlds, making their homes where they found them; eating, marrying and living their day-to-day lives.
However, not all the Djinn were content with staying to themselves and just living amongst their own -- after all, they reasoned, they were much more powerful than most other races they would ever meet, so why shouldn't they conquer them and enslave them, ruling over them like kings? And so, these rogue Djinn went out in a hundred different worlds and more, conquering and spreading havoc and misery almost everywhere they went.
Finally, a number of crafty sorcerers and magicians did device a way to stop them, through the most subtle magics and cunning trickery. Highly magical containers were made, in the shape of bottles, urns, boxes and other suitable objects, and the rogue Djinn were trapped inside these, their magic fusing so completely with the container's magic that separating them would be useless.
A trapped Djinn would essentially become a slave to whoever owned his, or her, container -- only capable of using her, or his, most powerful magics in the service of the "Master." And so, the sorcerer did not only free a hundred worlds or more from the threat of the rogue Djinn, but also gained extremely powerful and obedient slaves.
And so, like so many other good ideas, the idea of trapping the Djinn spread out to others, and was twisted and used for other purposes than originally intended: Other sorcerers picked up on the idea, and several of them set out their plans to capture a Djinn of their own, not caring one bit whether the Djinn in question was actually a rogue one or not. In fact, they tended to go after the gentler and less dangerous ones, to make it less of a personal risk. And the most favored targets were young Djinn; children who had not yet learned to properly control their powers and were therefore easily caught and enslaved.
When they grew up and gained control, they had most often been raised to be slaves who would unquestioningly obey every order.
"Many of the original rogue Djinn," Asheena explained, "delight in twisting their Masters' wishes into misfortune. They resent their enslavement and rebel in the only way they can, by deliberately misinterpreting orders, withholding vital information unless asked for it or even answering questions with half-truths. The more cunning rogues can be almost as troublesome to have as slaves as they are to have as enemies. The Djinn who have been caught at an early age and grown up in slavery, though, are less inclined to rebel and more inclined to be helpful, because they know very little else apart from slavery."
April shuddered. "That's... horrible," she said.
"Is it? I do beg your pardon, Mistress, I must be slightly out of touch," Asheena muttered. "All right, a cruel Master can be very horrible, I will admit..."
"I take it that you're not one of those rogue Djinn, then?" said Don, who was starting to get a better grasp on the situation.
"You are correct," said Asheena. "I was enslaved as a child -- or to be more presice, I was sold into slavery by my mother, to one of these magicians. I believe he paid her quite handsomely. Why are you looking like that?"
As one, April, the Turtles and Splinter turned to look back at her, all feeling vaguely disturbed that the Djinn could talk so easily and without any apparent emotion about her own mother selling her as a slave.
"Yeah, well, it's just that we ain't exactly big fans a' slavery," Raph finally said when nobody else took the word.
"I see," said Asheena. "In that case, I do beg your pardon. I have spent most of my life in Calormen, where slavery is simply part of the natural order of things, and did not realize it might seem offensive to you. I take it your home world is more like the country of Narnia in that respect, with no slavery or --"
"Narnia!" Don exclaimed, interrupting her. "You know of Narnia?!"
Asheena blinked at the interruption. "I should say I know of it, o green one. My mother lived there for some years, during the Hundred-Year Winter... is was long before I was born, but she did mention it... and of course Narnia is often talked of here in Tashbaan."
"Do you know how to get there?" said Splinter, sounding as eager as Don felt.
Asheena rubbed her chin. "I do. Narnia lies only a week's travel from here, if you go by ship. Less, if you cross the desert -- at least if you have a swift horse, and go by the mountain pass and through Archenland. Be warned, though, that few people enter Narnia without the leave of Aslan, the great Lion... and the name of Aslan is not exactly well-received here in Calormen, certainly not in the palace of the Tisroc."
"Really?" said Don. "How come?"
"Because Aslan is the mortal enemy of the god Tash, whom most Calormenes worship. They say that Aslan is a demon in the shape of a Lion, wild and deadly and commanding the darkest and most wicked magics." Asheena shook her head. "I would not know, as I have not met him, but I would not like to go against him."
Splinter frowned. "It was by the very same Aslan we were told to seek out Narnia in the first place. I can't say just what he is, but I do know this -- he is no demon."
Asheena nodded, but looked vaguely uneasy. "Please, do not mention this to anyone else you meet here in Calormen. Anyone discovered to be acting under the order or even advice of Aslan is quite likely to be executed on the spot, for fear that they are bringing demonic magic into the country."
"War a' the religions. Ain't it always the same," muttered Raph.
"Silence, Raphael," said Splinter. "Please, miss Asheena, what side are you on in this, let us call it a conflict? You do not seem to include yourself in the line of people who worship this Tash, yet you do not talk as a follower of Aslan either."
"That is correct," said Asheena. "We Djinn stand outside, so to speak. Some of us oppose both Aslan and Tash.... my mother was one of them. I told you she lived in Narnia during the Hundred-Year Winter -- well, this was because she was in the service of a half-Djinn known as Jadis, the White Witch. And this White Witch was also an enemy of Aslan, having conquered Narnia and ruled there, without his consent, for a hundred years."
"What happened?" said April, sounding fascinated.
"Aslan returned, Mistress, and killed the White Witch and most of her army. My mother survived by fleeing to Calormen, where I was born many years later." Asheena shook her head. "Upon my word, I seek no quarrel with the Lion. Demon or not -- my strongest magics and greatest powers would mean nothing to him."
"Miss Asheena," said Splinter. "Can you take us to Narnia? It is important that we get there."
Asheena nodded, again somewhat reluctantly. "If my Mistress desires to go to Narnia, I shall take her to Narnia."
"Take all of us," said April hurriedly.
"Take all of you," Asheena agreed. "If the Lion himself told you to seek out the country, I suppose that he would not object to me transporting you there." Then, she looked over at them, and a change came over her face. "I must admit that I had not thought I would ever meet someone who had actually talked to Aslan, though! I have heard tales of him all my life, but -- please, will you tell me your story? It sounds like one worth hearing!"
"How about we save it for the road to Narnia?" said Don. "It's kind of a long story. Besides, you didn't finish yours yet. What happened after you were sold to the magician?"
"C'mon, we just got a free ticket ta Narnia an' you wanna continue listenin' ta stories?!" Raph hissed.
"Let's just say there are a few details I want to work out before we leave," said Don. "Asheena -- if you don't mind?"
Asheena glanced at April, who nodded.
"Very well," the Djinn said. "I stayed with the magician for two years, most of which I spent practicing minor magics on his command. However, before I was strong enough to really begin serious work for the magician, my box was stolen by a street boy who had found out about me. I was sleeping inside the box and was astonished to find, when it was opened, that it wasn't my old Master who called me, but a young man I didn't know, who told me that he was to be my Master from now on."
"And you just accepted that?" said Don.
"He had my box, what else was I to do? His first command was to enchant a young and beautiful Tarkeena, with whom he had fallen in love, but could not approach because she was so far above his status. And so I made the woman fall so hard for him that the moment she laid eyes upon him, she ran up to him, declared her love for him and kissed him deeply before even remembering to ask what his name was. Very soon they were married, and the street boy became a Tarkaan himself."
April shook her head. "Wishing for someone to fall in love with you... that's cheating."
"Perhaps so, o my Mistress, but very tempting when you are in love yourself," said Asheena. "It was thanks to this that my box became somewhat known among certain Tarkaans and Tarkeenas, and as I grew older, I was passed from Tarkaan to Tarkeena to Tarkaan, serving and servicing as they all saw fit. That is, except for the thirty years I spent with a travelling merchant."
She smiled, a genuine fondness creeping into her voice and her eyes turned slightly dreamy.
"My box had been misplaced and by accident ended up in the hands of this merchant who roamed all over Calormen, selling his goods and wares wherever he came. He was the only Master I had who did not just command -- all he wanted from me, he said, was someone who would travel with him, keep him company, help protect and sell his wares and make sure he did not starve when times were hard. I did as he asked, and became his companion... and eventually his wife.
"They were the happiest thirty years of my life. He was a good man, and I loved him dearly. But alas, he was a mortal man and prone to age and disease, whereas I belong to an immortal race who knows neither age nor death. I begged him, oh how I begged him to command that I turn him into an immortal as well, so that we may stay together and never part...but always he refused, saying that immortality was not a thing meant for him, a Son of Adam, to have.
"He died, sixty-five years old, after we had been married for nearly thirty years, leaving me alone and with no Master... or husband."
"I am sorry," said Splinter.
"Please, don't be," said Asheena softly. "It was a happy time. I grieved for a long time, but I never regretted my time with him."
"But what happened afterwards?" Don wanted to know. "If you were freed back then, how come you're here now?"
"I was never 'freed,' as you put it," said Asheena. "The curse of the Slave-Djinn cannot be broken. It was only a matter of time before my box fell into the hands of someone else... and as fate would have it, this 'someone else' turned out, to my great surprise, to be one of the many great-grandchildren of my second Master -- the street boy that I had granted my first proper wish to by making that Tarkeena fall in love with him! They had gone on to have many children, and their children had children and grandchildren of their own, and the family was now big and very rich and influential.
"But the man who was to become my new Master, he was the youngest of many sons, and was not entitled to any great inheritance or land. And he quickly proved to be the most ambitious and driven of all my Masters, because --"
"Hold your tongue, Asheena!"
The sudden voice came from the entrance, and everyone turned around to see a number of richly-dressed men armed with scimitars rush in. Most of them seemed slightly out of breath, but the one in front -- the most insanely decorated and most elaborately dressed of them all, wasn't even breathing heavily.
"I know this guy," said Raph, glaring at the man in front. "That's the guy who yelled about Narnia and demons!"
"I forbid you to say another word!" the man shouted, approaching them all with raised scimitar. "Barbarian dogs and demons, how dare you --!" This was as far as he got, because Asheena had snapped her fingers, and all of a sudden both he and the other men froze in their positions, still as statues.
Don's eyes widened. "What the--?" was all he managed to say.
"I do beg your pardon, o Ardazhin, but you no longer command me," said Asheena, before turning back to April, falling to her knees. "O my Mistress, forgive me. I did think we had more time than this before he would find us."
"Get up, get up!" said April hurriedly. "What is all this? I thought you said you'd brought us somewhere safe?"
"And so I have, Mistress," said Asheena, getting to her feet and lowering her gaze. "You are perfectly safe, for I am sworn to protect you. But, begging your pardon," she added, and there was a faint trace of humor and mischief in her voice now, "you did only wish to be in a safe place, you said nothing of not being discovered."
"But --" April began.
"I'm sorry, I did not mean to deceive you. But my former Master is a driven and cunning man, and I knew it was only a question of time before he discovered us. Better to have the confrontation sooner than later, I thought."
"You didn't say anything about that!"
"You did not ask, Mistress. And we got to talking about other things, and as you were never in any actual danger, I did not think it high on my list of priorities at the moment." Asheena fell to her knees again, the humor gone from her eyes and voice as she continued: "I see now that this was my error, and I can only hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive your unworthy slave."
Help, said April's eyes as they stared at Donatello, clearly at a complete loss at what to do with this groveling.
'Command her to quit it,' Don mouthed, hoping that he had summed up the Djinn's situation correctly.
"Yes, right," said April. "Asheena, I order you to get up! And, um, don't ever get on your knees in front of me again!"
"...As my Mistress commands, so shall it be," said Asheena, getting to her feet once more, but keeping her eyes averted.
"And you don't have to say that either," April continued in a much softer voice. "You can just say 'okay' or something."
Asheena paused, then nodded. "Okay," she said.
"Can I break in here?" said Raph. "You say this bozo is your Master, right?"
"Was,"said Asheena. "Yes. Ardazhin Tisroc, ruler of all Calormen."
"Figgered as much, what with everyone bowin' and scrapin' and wishin' eternal life on him. But, you clearly said that your Master, 'scuse me, former Master, was a minor nobleman. So, that means...?"
Asheena nodded again. "Your suspicions are correct, o green one. Ardazhin has never been the irightful/i Tisroc. He merely wished be the highest and most powerful man in Calormen... and so I made him."
Ardazhin Tisroc was, as previously mentioned, a man who had everything, or at least as close to "everything" as a man could have: Power, wealth and near-universal adoration... and a deep and dark secret that nagged at his deepest fears:
None of what he had was really his.
Everything he had, everything he was,he had gained without having any right to it; ever since he first stole the box that bound Asheena; the very same Djinn that, if old family stories were to be believed, was the cause of his original family fortune.
Now, a less greedy (and more Tisroc-fearing) man might have set his goals somewhat lower and merely used the Djinn's magic as countless other Calormenes had done before him: To gain wealth and power and possibly the favor of the Tisroc -- may he live forever and all that. But not Ardazhin. He had wanted to be the Tisroc -- a thought and desire that would not even have entered your average Calormenese mind. Everyone knew that the bloodline of the Tisroc was descended from Tash himself, and to wish less than perfect fortune to a Tisroc would be the same as to ask Tash to wreak his anger upon you.
But Ardazhin had never believed that old story. It was enough to use your head a little and look at the history books to realize that the bloodline of the Tisrocs was all too mortal (no god with any kind of self-respect would have allowed some of these to descend from him; take for example Rabadash the Ridiculous, who had at one point gone and turned himself into a donkey). He couldn't imagine that Tash, the dark god, would care one ounce who was actually on the throne of Calormen, as long as he received his tributes and his people followed his laws.
Which was why he had dared the god's "terrible wrath" and removed his "descendant" from the throne.
And, just as he had thought, Tash had never complained.
Not even when Ardazhin had Asheena cast powerful enchantments on the people of Tashbaan to make them without question accept him as their new Tisroc, not even when he'd had Asheena cast spells on him to make him immortal and always in his prime, so that the old "may he live forever" saying would actually mean something, had the god given even the slightest hint that he disapproved.
And so, Ardazhin had proceeded to make the best out of his newly-found status as Tisroc of the mightiest country in the world; which is to say that he focused much more on his own might and wealth than on the country's. As long as Calormen stayed grand, rich and powerful, the citizens remained loyal and law-abiding, and he himself remained the greatest and wealthiest man in Calormen, he didn't care overly much what else anyone did or how they were doing. Those details were better left to Viziers and scribes and paper-pushers, anyway.
And Tash had stayed completely silent on the subject.
Asheena's true nature had to be kept a secret, of course; if anyone knew she was a Djinn, it wouldn't be long before someone figured out the truth behind the current Tisroc, enchantments or no. So Asheena was presented as simply one of the Tisroc's wives; she was certainly beautiful enough to be the kind of woman a Tisroc could have fallen for and married.
(To keep anyone else from discovering and opening her box, he had invented the story of the Box of Doom, which would make the sky fall on whoever opened it -- and it says quite a lot about the Calormenes' traditional total devotion to their ruler that almost everyone had, without hesitation, swallowed this outrageous lie whole.)
He took other wives as well, the youngest and loveliest Tarkeenas in Calormen, and had Asheena enchant them into being eternally young and beautiful, and of course always perfectly in love with him; and by them he had many children, each one from birth carefully enchanted into adoring him and never harboring rebellious thoughts.
Only Asheena was allowed to still think freely. (She was also the only one of his wives never to bear him any children; for Djinn pregnancies are very rare, and a pregnancy resulting of a coupling between Man and Djinn almost unheard of.) It had pleased Ardazhin that the one person in his presence who did not have to love him the way everyone else did, was also the one who had to call him "Master" and obey his every command. Her resentment of him throughout it all became the one jarring note in the otherwise perfect symphony that was his life, the one flaw that kept things interesting and simply by existing made him appreciate the perfection in everything else all the more.
And so, close to fifty years had passed, and Tash had still not said a word against it.
But then...
When Ardazhin returned to his senses, he was greeted by the unwelcome sight of the two turtle demons who had invaded his palace standing over him, accompanied by a sinister-looking rat demon and -- this was the worst part -- a pale, barbarian woman in strange clothes, who was holding Asheena's box. The box that none save him had been allowed to touch for nearly fifty years was now in the hands of a barbarian woman...
In despair, he tried jumping up to grab the box, but realized almost immediately that he couldn't move any part of his body below his neck.
"Asheena!" he said in his most commanding voice, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his heart. "Release me from this hold at once!"
"I am terribly sorry, o my dear husband and former Master," said Asheena from the barbarian woman's side. "But you are not in charge of me anymore."
Ardazhin's gaze turned back to the barbarian woman and felt his heart sink even further. But he hadn't been Tisroc for so long without learning how to give orders, and expect them to be followed. "Barbarian woman!" he snapped. "You will immediately return my box to me, or I shall personally see to it that you --" This was all he had time to say before one of the turtle demons was right up close to him and holding a strange-looking metal weapon against his face.
"Go on," it said with an evil grin so wide that it was a wonder its face didn't split in two. "Finish that sentence! Gimme an excuse!"
"Enough." The rat demon spoke up, regarding Ardazhin calmly. "We have heard some very serious accusations against you, Ardazhin Tisroc..."
"Lies, all lies," Ardazhin protested. "Believe not a word of it! Has not the poet said 'listen not to the tales of slaves, for they come from a traitorous heart and are formed by a devious tongue'? Asheena is a liar and an ungrateful wench, and would love nothing more than to see me ruined and de-throned, lying in the gutter with the lowliest of the dogs -- I, who have been kindness itself to her! I, who have made her my wife and let her live in luxury in my palace --"
"Kindness itself!" Asheena interrupted, shaking her head. "Shall I tell them, o Ardazhin? Shall I tell them of all the things you commanded me to do while I was your slave? Shall I tell them of all those nights when you --"
"Hold your tongue, woman!" Ardazhin shrieked in desperation.
"You would do better to hold yours," said the rat demon in a sharp, bidding tone. "My sons... what do you say about all this?"
"I'm with the genie," said the turtle demon with the metal weapon. "Guy's obviously scum. But then, I'm naturally biased against people who first give orders ta kill me, an' then make threats against my friends."
"Asheena's story has the advantage that, if you accept the existence of magic and genies, that it's logical," said the other turtle demon. "Or do you have a better explanation?" It turned to look at Ardazhin.
"Lies," said Ardazhin, realizing how pathetic that sounded, but not willing to give up. "Has not the poet said 'Fickle is the heart of the wife, and quickly does she turn to treason'?"
"That's the worst explanation I've ever heard," said the demon, shaking its head. "Sorry, but if that's all you have, I think I'm gonna agree with Raph on this one."
"April?" said the rat demon calmly.
The barbarian woman looked at Ardazhin, long and hard. Then, she looked down at the box in her hands. "I believe her," was all she said. "Ardazhin Tisroc took a gift that was given to him and used it to steal what was never rightfully his. Is there any doubt of this, boys?"
At first, Ardazhin thought that she was talking to the demons, but then he realized that they weren't alone in the room. There, next to him, were his sons, all looking at him, but not with their usual love and adoration. Their faces were pictures or repulsion and shock, and he knew that the enchantments had been lifted off them and they were seeing him, for the first time for many of them, without having to love him.
At that very moment, Ardazhin knew, without a doubt, that he had been wrong all these years: The dark god Tash very much disapproved of his unrightful seizing of the throne, and had not acted before because he had been biding his time. This was not about Narnian demons after all, it was simply about the god and his anger at Ardazhin.
The Tisroc fell silent, feeling the ice-cold hands of terror taking him in a firm hold and blurring his senses.
It was only through an icy fog of panic that he could make out the rat demon's next words: "Unfortunately, Ardazhin Tisroc, we are strangers in this country and as such have no right to pass judgment over you. Which is why we shall leave that part up to those you wronged, the ones you enchanted and enslaved. Pray they will be more merciful than we would have been..."
It looked like the time for cursing and weeping and damning the gods had arrived.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Author's notes: Ever since I started revising and posting The Lion, the Cat and the Turtles to this site, I've known that this chapter would probably be the one most people had problems with. After all, Asheena is probably -- at least by Narnian standards -- the most controversial character in this entire story, and here I am dedicating an entire chapter to her story.
Why did I do this? Well -- this part of the story is an experiments of sorts, but one I'm hoping will pay off in the end. Asheena has a definite role to play in the story, part of which is an exploration of supernatural creatures who aren't openly followers of Aslan -- are they always evil, or is there a chance that they might turn out all right? Clearly Asheena is terrified of Aslan (and yes, she's right in assuming that she wouldn't have a chance against him), but she doesn't seem to actively hate him the way the canonical creatures of darkness do -- even if she is descended from one of them. We'll see what happens when/if the two actually meet face to face.
Of course, there is a danger that Asheena could become a Deus Ex Machina in the story, but I'm doing all I can to avoid this.
You might argue that a Djinn isn't very Narnia-esque, but there have been mentions of Djinn in the original books, although they have never taken center stage -- with the exception of the White Witch, who was only half-Djinn anyway. (The book specifically describes her as half Djinn and half Giantess, which I suspect was why she was so powerful.)
But, when all is said and done, this isn't really Asheena's story (at least not outside this chapter), and just so you won't forget that this is a TMNT/Narnia story: Next chapter takes place in Narnia again, and contains the first meeting between Leonardo and the Red Lady!