Chapter 45: A Ride
It was close, but precisely 26 minutes later, I was strolling into the stable yard with deceptive ease.
"Prince Dhiren!" Sultan Hamed, the snake, waved me over to one of the horse stalls with a big carefree smile on his face. "You're just in time."
"Of course," I replied, coming up to him. The sultan didn't need to know about the minor hurricane in my room or how Vinit and I had dashed about like crazed bees to get me ready within the half-hour as the sultan demanded. That was my business.
The oblivious sultan handed me a red apple. "Here."
"Thank you," I told him. As I had eaten little at breakfast today, I was a bit hungry. I lifted up the apple to examine it. However, before I could even think of taking my first bite, there was a flash of white and the apple was gone.
I stared at my now empty hand.
Beside me, the sultan burst out into laughter. "Oh! Oh my!" he rasped out between fits of mirth. "What a scamp! How funny!"
I closed my eyes briefly and breathed. And so, it began again. Once more, I reminded myself that I was a prince. Anger was beneath me and I was above it.
When I opened my eyes, I felt someone watching me. Not the sultan, he was still laughing. It was the horse in the stall.
I vaguely remembered this old grey. We had met before. The stallion had belonged to the sultan's wife and now that I was thinking about it, there was a rumor that the sultan came out here every morning specifically to feed this horse an apple. Why anyone would want to spoil such a creature I had no idea.
Yes, the horse was impressively large and presumably fast, but he also looked incredibly ill-tempered. His eyes were hard like a seasoned veteran and the expression of victory and defiance that lingered in the horse's face was hardly endearing.
I smiled at him.
The stallion's nostrils flared and he took an involuntary step back. Like all horses and most prey animals, he was a bit afraid of me. Legends claimed it was another side-effect of my amulet. I suppose if I could sense that the human in front of me could morph into a tiger, I would be on edge too.
"Oh my," the sultan said, finally becoming coherent again. "That was funny. I am sorry, Prince Dhiren-"
I sincerely doubted he was.
"-I meant to explain the apple wasn't for you," the sultan continued, "but Sahara beat me to it."
"So, I noticed," I said smoothly, feeling a bit better after staring down the horse. "Sahara is used to his daily apple, is he not?"
The sultan gave me a speculative look. "That he is. The old boy was Cyrila's horse. I wasn't sure you would remember."
Yet another test.
"I do now," I said, for that was all the curse would let me claim.
The sultan chuckled. "Yes, well, Sahara has quite the personality. Don't you?" The sultan went up on his tiptoes to peak at the stallion who had wisely retreated to the back of his stall. "And it seems, you remember the prince too."
The sultan fell back on his heels and returned his focus to me. "You never were the best with horses."
"I'm afraid I am not an animal person," I agreed.
"It is too bad," the sultan said.
I braced myself for a joke about the irony of my statement, but instead, he said, "Few people are perfect. We must all try our best, I suppose." The sultan patted me on the back in a condescending manner that I did not appreciate.
"I endeavor to," I said in a carefully neutral tone.
"That's the spirit, my boy," the sultan said cheerfully. "Now that you and Sahara have been reacquainted. We should get ourselves saddled up."
Alarm cut through my irritation. "Sultan Hamed, though I admit that Sahara is a very fine horse," if there was such a thing, "I think," given my history, "it would not be wise for me to attempt to ride him," to say the least.
Sahara would probably throw me off the minute I mounted him. It had happened to me before with a much more placid creature. The only difference between now and then was that I believed Sahara would actively enjoy breaking my arm.
The sultan seemed to agree for he said, "You? Ride Sahara? No indeed." The sultan shook his head. "The very idea. No, boy, of course not. No one rides Sahara anymore, not even me. I have to settle for Midnight."
He gestured at a black stallion who looked ready to breathe fire. The sultan smiled dotingly at the beast and I suddenly had a good idea of where Jasmine got her love of dangerous animals.
With my best attempt at nonchalance, I observed, "I see that Midnight is still in his stall, unattended."
The sultan turned back to me. "Yes, well, I can't ride him today. He's too fast compared to all the other mounts here and contrary to what you may believe, I am not trying to kill you."
The word "yet" hung unspoken in the air as the sultan gave me a look just as hard as Sahara's.
I was undeterred by that particular threat. After all, I had already survived one assassination attempt in his kingdom. Still, I said, "Of course, your highness. I thank you for your consideration."
The sultan nodded, his expression turning docile once more. "Yes, yes. You're welcome and all that." Then the sultan clapped his hands and a small groom, a child really, appeared with a buckskin mare meant for the sultan and a gentle brown stallion that I recognized immediately. It was Jvarasura, Kishan's horse, or rather I suppose, my horse.
"You're surprised," the sultan noted. "He's been here this whole time. 5 years is a long time for a horse, but young Hakeem and I have taken very good care of Jvarasura. He is still quite able."
I nodded. Seeing the creature brought back memories, most of them not very good. Jvarasura seemed to agree. He looked just as happy to see me as I was to see him.
I reached into one of my pockets. While Vinit helped me dress, I made sure to have another servant fetch me something to win over the horses. I brought out my secret weapon, a piece of Hapus mango. It was Kadam's chosen treat for wooing horses and Jvarasura's favorite.
Suddenly, there was love in the animal's eyes. He trotted over and ate the treat right out of my hand.
With that ritual complete, I was fairly sure Jvarasura would allow me to ride him. It was a good thing because the sultan wasted no time mounting his own horse. Within moments, he was on top of his steed and spurring her into a gallop. I got onto Jvarasura and asked him to do the same. To my relief, he obeyed.
We rode swiftly with the sultan leading the way through stone arches and across grassy lawns. As we passed through one such arch, something bright flashed in front of me. I shut my eyes tight for a moment. When I opened them again, we had reached a forgotten piece of the palace I had never seen before.
It was an orchard tucked away in a small valley. As we rode downhill, I could smell citrus and apples in the air, yet I saw no fruit on the trees.
After a few more minutes, the sultan stopped his horse and I was finally able to get close enough to ask him about this place. However, he spoke first. "Let's tie up the horses here," he said, before leaping off his steed with surprising grace.
I dismounted less gracefully thanks to Jvarasura's fidgeting, but I managed.
Once the sultan and I had secured the horses, the man pointed to a previously obscured path and said, "This way."
"Your highness," I said, walking with him. "Where exactly are we?" For the first time all day, I was fully immersed in something outside myself.
This orchard baffled me.
It was the middle of winter and yet the trees were a spring green, the sky a summer blue, and the temperature had risen to match. Moreover, despite the heat, I could not locate the sun. I had also lost sight of the palace towers when we entered the valley. There was a thought at the edge of my mind, a possible solution to this quandary, but whatever the notion was, it lay just out of reach.
The sultan looked over at me thoughtfully and asked, "Do you know why I am the sultan of Agrabah?"
"Why?" I repeated. My mind had gone murky over the mystery of this place. I refocused but it didn't help. The answer to his question was obvious which meant this was some sort of trick.
The sultan looked up at me expectantly.
Damn it. I hated situations like these. I answered as best I could. "I suppose you would not be asking if the answer was because you were born to it."
The sultan nodded. "You're right. That's not the answer. I wasn't born to it. I was a younger brother once," he said, "I never thought I would be the one to inherit, and yet against all odds, it is I who has been ruling Agrabah for the last several decades."
"I did not know that," I said and I should. I had done my research on Agrabah, thoroughly. The sultan was supposed to be an only child. Even if I had accidentally missed something, surely Jasmine would have mentioned if she had an uncle or aunt.
"You could call it a well-kept secret," the sultan said, somehow reading my mind. "Agrabah is full of them. It comes from all the magic, but enough of that. We haven't come here for me to dangle carrots…or apples as it were." He sent me a mischievous look.
"We would not want to make Sahara jealous," I agreed.
That surprised a chuckle out of him. "Yes, just so," the sultan said, and thus, I had scored yet another point.
"It would be most unkind," he added, "so, no more talk of produce. Let's talk folklore. Are you familiar with the Agrabah version of the Fisherman and the Jinni?"
It was another seemingly random subject change. I doubted I would ever truly get used to how this new version of the sultan jumped from one topic to another, but fine, let's ignore the fact that there should be a different sultan on the throne and talk folklore. I informed the sultan, "No, I do not believe I have heard the Agrabah version." I was not aware there was an Agrabah version. "I only know the standard one."
I had studied the Fisherman and the Jinni long ago. It was a classic about a fisherman finding a genie in a bottle. The fisherman frees the genie and nearly gets cursed for his kindness. Luckily, the genie is not very smart and the fisherman is able to trick the genie into going back into its bottle before anything happens.
The sultan smiled. "I thought as much," he said, "The standard version won't do at all. I must tell you the one I grew up on instead."
"Alright," I said, wondering what the sultan's angle was now. I knew he had not just brought me out here to tell me a random folk tale. Probably.
"Splendid," the sultan said. Then he confirmed my suspicions by adding, "Now pay attention. This is important."
"I'm listening," I said. Perhaps he was about to tell me some strange version of the Agrabah creation myth, or perhaps this was a roundabout way of asking me about some obscure factoid on sea trade. With the sultan, anything was possible. It did not matter, however. Regardless of what his new game was, I did not intend to lose.
The sultan seemed to sense my determination. He gave me a long assessing look before he began his story with, "Once upon a time…"
Hi all,
This was supposed to come out yesterday but the site is going through some new year growing pains and acting wonky. However, we got here in the end. I hope you enjoyed the ride.
There are lots of references in here. Just focusing on the culture: Jvarasura means the demon of fever which sounds cool. It is also the name of a Hindu deity of fever and pox who happens to ride a donkey. Jvarasura's coloring is similar to a donkey's. I imagine this is why Kishan gave Ren this particular horse. The Hapus is a popular mango variety in Maharashtra. This is the modern-day location of where the Marathi Empire(the basis for Mujulaain) was. Next, moving from India to Arabia, the Fisherman and the Jinni is one of the tales from 1001 nights (as is Aladdin). Lastly, there's the orchard, but I won't tell you where it comes from just yet. Perhaps you've already guessed though. ;)
That's it. See you soon!