The floors were covered with fresh fruit and vegetables. There had to be some cultivation in spite of the dry season, Hasan thought. Did they irrigate? Bright green cone-shaped lotus-pods stood in piled pyramids. Flattened dried frogs were pressed together in bunches. Turtle eggs and edible lizards were displayed, together with pugnacious live crabs and even live octopuses squatting in bowls of water.

Some food was already prepared: octopus entrails and tentacles served as a side dish to steaming boiled rice. Hasan looked at the obvious suction pads and moved on, unhungry.

Some of the young village girls wore fancy belts under their blouses. "The quality of the belt shows her value on the marriage market," Shawahi explained. "Good sys- tem," Hasan agreed.

That night Shawahi treated him to a special delicacy of the region: a royal fruit called the durian. It was green and thorned on the outside, almost the size of a man's head. She cut it open to expose the creamy meat inside and an odor of garlic, rotten cheese and camel-urine wafted up. She handed a thick slice to him. "Eat your fill, Hasan-you will seldom get to feast on a delight like this!" she said mischievously, while Hasan gagged on the stench and eyed the brain-like convolutions of the surface.

Shawahi ate with gusto. "You'll find it melts in your mouth," she said, cutting a second slice from the large center fruit stone. "Isn't this an unforgettable experience?"

Hasan agreed wanly.

Egrets rose lazily as the army marched from the village, and hawks circled high overhead. There were cities along their route, but Shawahi intended to avoid these. Next was the Land of Birds.

Hasan wondered whether his mouth would feel clean by the time they reached it.

Chapter 10. Queen.

He was thoroughly weary of the plain by the time they reached the forested mountains. Though the sun beat down mercilessly, there were signs of change. The monsoon season was approaching.

The transition was abrupt. Suddenly they were in the thickest and rankest rainforest Hasan had ever seen. Here grew the gigantic yang trees: the enormous trunks branch- less for well over a hundred feet, topped by broad crowns of small leathery leaves. Bamboos were the size of trees, seventy-five feet tall with culms a foot in diameter. A handsome tree with long, narrow silver-green leaves bore greenish-yellow flowers on stems sprouting directly from the trunk. The undersides of the leaves were reddish. Hasan studied it and was reminded of Serendip; then it occurred to him that this could be the tree that bore the durian fruit, and he lost interest.

The party plodded single file through the jungle along narrow trails shut in by walls of green. Herbs and shrubs rose up to great heights, and sizable tree-trunks stood close together. Elephants made these trails, Shawahi explained; they were indefatigable path-makers, contouring them around peaks and along valleys.

"A rhinoceros will try to burrow under tangled vegeta- tion," she said, "rather than walk over it. But the elephant is at home in the forest. It can go anywhere a man can go, and we are not too proud to use the good trails it leaves for us."

Hasan looked at the deep growth of climbing and twist- ing plants surrounding many of the trunks and festooning the s.p.a.ces between them, and was glad she felt that way.

Broken tree-trunks lay on the ground, and some dead trees were so entangled they could not fall. They leaned, defunct and rotting, upon other trees. Luxuriant moss cov- ered these, and from this moss sprang beautifully colored orchids. Cup-shaped palms grew where they could, and so did the tree-ferns. The upper foliage of the forest was so dense that it was impossible to see the sky from the ground. Only occasionally did the canopy part to admit the blinding sunshine, which reflected from the shiny surfaces of the lower leaves. The forest air was humid and musty-a hothouse of solid greens.

This was the Land of Birds. Near the water were small white egrets, storks and ibises. Hasan stood at the edge of a brook, where the sunlight fell from the side and made every leaf turn toward it, and watched a red-headed crane take off from behind a tree-trunk bridge. The bird was almost as tall as he was, standing, with uniform gray plum- age and a bright wine-red head.

The birds of the forest were much prettier than those of the plain and swamp. There were brilliant kingfishers, flocks of noisy green parakeets, and jungle hens with rusty red feathers and a metallic sheen in the tail. There were pheasants, crows, falcons and buzzards; peac.o.c.ks perched over the streams, and the pied hornbill was frighteningly large in flight. Hasan's favorite was what he learned was the long-tailed broadbill: it had a green back, yellow throat, blue tail, and a black cap with a bush of blue and yellow feathers. Shawahi also pointed out the small swifts, from whose nests soup was made.

But birds were hardly the only creatures here. The jungle resounded with the calls of unseen animals and the chatter of families of gibbons. The shrill ma.s.s-chirping of the cicadas began at dawn and filled the air until the hottest part of the day. Then it stopped-no one begrudged the insects a rest-and began again in the afternoon until it reached a deafening crescendo at dusk. Even at night it did not stop; the noise abated only gradually as the hours of darkness pa.s.sed.

The mountainsides were steep, and high up Hasan en- countered nests of sticks half the height of a man. No, not for birds-these were built by wild pigs to protect their burrows from predators. Flying lizards moved between the trees, and bats appeared in every size. "Wait until you see the flying centipedes of Wak," Shawahi said.

Hasan had thought he had seen the most spectacular refuge of wild-life and wilderness in Serendip. Now he realized that there was a great deal yet to appreciate.

The monsoon came as they crossed the valley between the long mountain ranges, to the western side of the penin- sula. The rains beat down with devastating force, drench- ing everything with elemental savagery. This was one of the wettest spots in the world, Shawahi said, and Hasan believed it.

They moved on south, day by day. Brilliant flowers were everywhere. Plants climbed trees, reached up through the crowns and out into the sun. Some plants even lived in the high foliage entirely, with their roots dangling in the air below. b.u.t.terflies fluttered about, and even fish climbed trees.

Land appeared across the ocean to the south. This was the major island of Wak itself-the land where Hasan was to meet his fate.

They crossed in long double-hulled boats, the amazons taking paddles and rowing vigorously in their enthusiasm to be home. All day they rowed, and did not touch land again until night; Hasan was glad there was no storm that day, for the ocean seemed exceedingly wide and deep for such tiny craft.

They landed; but the journey was hardly over yet. They had yet to traverse the Land of the Jinn.

Great mountains lay to the south and west. The country- side did not seem to change, except for one notable fea- ture: the top of the largest mountain they pa.s.sed was white. Hasan remembered this effect from the mountain of the black Shaykh.

"What's the matter with that peak?" he demanded, gesturing.

Shawahi smiled. "That is snow."

Hasan fidgeted in the heat, looking for the joke. "But snow is cold."

She nodded agreeably.

Hasan gave up. Evidently he was missing something again.

They marched inland now, through thick forest. Ani- mals and birds of every description were present, and Hasan gaped at bamboo stalks over two feet thick, and fly-covered flowers the same size. The soil was uncom- monly rich and black, but still-!

At night he woke with a shock: the ground was shaking! "What's happening?" he shouted.

"Go back to sleep, lad," Shawahi mumbled. "I told you this was the land of the Jinn."

The jinn! So it was true. The flying ifrit Dahnash had said that the demons of the earth could shake the ground...

"Do they really make cones of fire?"

"Of course," the old woman said. "Go to sleep."

"How can I sleep when the jinn are walking?"

Shawahi sat up. "Listen, Hasan-all that a man needs for happiness is a horse, a knife, a wife and a singing bird. That's a proverb of ours. Worry about your wife. That's all you're missing. You don't need to concern yourself about the doings of the fire-spirits. You'll see enough of that tomorrow. Now sleep."

Somehow he wasn't rea.s.sured.

In the morning they marched uphill. The jungle opened out and they stood before a ragged mountain of ominous appearance. "That's your cone," Shawahi said. "One of the largest in Wak. See-there's a little fire now."

Hasan looked anxiously. The top of the mountain lev- eled off, and above it was a cloud of smoke. As he watched, an expanding ball of blackness puffed up from the mountain itself.

"That's really a ball of steam and ashes," the old woman said. "Just a little innocent practice. Sometimes Magma is angry; then the fire shoots out and the ashes fall everywhere, and the terrible burning rock flows down the side. When that happens, you must get as far away as you can." She smiled reminiscently. "But it doesn't happen often."

"Magma? Who is-?"

"Magma is the marid of the mountain. You haven't seen power until you've seen a marid in action. But don't be alarmed-our temple to Buddha is nearby, and while the holy men hardly serve the marid, there seems to be a pacifying influence."

"What kind of temple does-Buddha-have?" Hasan was still curious about this strange religion that never faced Mekkeh.

"You'll see it when we pa.s.s beyond the mountain. There are holy relics and the sacred ashes of our dead. You can hear the bells for many miles, and it is a sanctu- ary for all who are in need."

"But why so far from your cities? You said we still have to travel many-"

"Buddha loved the forest. A tree may be as holy as a temple. Isn't that true in your land?"

Hasan shook his head, amazed. "And Buddha permits a marid to menace the temple?"

"Buddha is tolerant," she said simply. "Even the jinn have the right to seek destiny in their own fashion."

He found it hard to comprehend such an att.i.tude. But in a land where mountains bore snow in the heat or belched fire from their summits, strange beliefs had to be expected. Or were the jinn so powerful in their own land that even a G.o.d-an infidel G.o.d, he corrected himself mentally-had to defer to them?

Whatever the situation, he had a nasty premonition that the fire-demons, large and small, would not stay pacified until his quest was over.

Yet the old woman hardly seemed to be concerned about such things. Instead she worried about the reaction of the Queen. If the Queen of Wak were really Sana, his wife, why should there be such concern? He knew Sana did not have the heart for vengeful measures. She had seldom been able even to reprimand a household slave. Whatever her reputation might be here, he was confident that once he found her and talked with her, she would agree to come back to Baghdad with him.

Shawahi had said that the woman he described as his wife was the Queen-but somehow the personalities were entirely different. How could this terrible Queen be his wife-and if she were not, where was his wife? Surely there could not be two on earth like her.

As Hasan's journey neared its conclusion, his apprehen- sion and concern increased. Something was wrong.

The house was large and strange to Hasan, though he had learned to take strangeness as a matter of course. Its timbers were of dark hardwood, much of it carved and painted in intriguing artistry, and suspended mats of bamboo formed certain walls and the peaked ceiling. From the outside he could see that the structure was square at the base and topped by a fantastic sway-backed thatch that curved up into a decorated pinnacle at either end. The roof reminded him of the saddle of a giant-but he would not have cared to be the giant who bestrode so knifelike a support.

"O my mother!" Hasan exclaimed as Shawahi entered. "What did she say?"

She eased herself into a seated posture, looking old. "O wretched man, would I had never seen your face."

Hasan stood back despondently. "The Queen is not my wife?"

"Hasan, I would do a ritual dance for joy that would rattle my brittle bones apart if I were only certain that she was not."

"Then she is my beloved!"

Shawahi fixed him with a dour stare. "O ill-fated one, be silent and hear my story."

Perplexed, Hasan sat down and listened.

Shawahi left her house (she narrated) in the morning with bitter foreboding. She had brought the foolish youth, Hasan, into the city disguised as a handmaiden-indeed the fairness of his complexion a.s.sisted the subterfuge-and hidden him in a room apart, lest any should come to know of him and inform the Queen and bring the stroke of the sword upon them both, and she hoped he appreciated this properly. She had served him herself while striving to instill in him the fear of the awful majesty of the Supreme King, the father of this woman he claimed as his wife, but he had wept before her most piteously and said, "O my lady, I choose death for myself and loathe this worldly life, if I unite not with my wife and children: I have set my existence on this venture and will either attain my aim or die."

What could a tired old woman do in the face of an att.i.tude like that? A lover never barkened to the speech of one who was fancy-free. If he was determined to throw his life away, she would simply have to cast about for some way to make it less suicidal. Thus she repaired to the Queen with her mind tumbling with abas.e.m.e.nts and peti- tions, hoping that the royal heart might in some way be softened.

The Queen was the eldest daughter of the Supreme King, who had put her in charge of the state while he visited with his six remaining daughters, all virgin maid- ens. The Queen had absolute power here in her city; but Shawahi had a claim upon her favor because she had reared all the King's daughters and trained them in weap- onry and tactics until they were the finest of amazon warriors. Now she needed all the good-will there might be in store, for the Queen was not going to be pleased with what the old woman had to relate.

Shawahi was admitted readily to the presence and fell down and kissed the floor before the Queen.

"Come, beldame, rise and sit beside me," the Queen said, embracing her formally. "I haven't seen you in a year. Did you have success in your trading expedition?"

"O my lady, it was a blessed journey, and I have brought you a gift which I will present to you very soon. But O my daughter, Queen of the age and the time-"

"Speak, woman."

"I have a favor to ask. But it is a delicate matter, and I pray it will not upset you. I hesitate to bring it up-"

"Come, mother-tell me, and I will accomplish it for you. My troops, my kingdom and myself are at your disposition."

But the old woman trembled and quivered like a dry reed in the wind of the monsoon. "O protect me from the wrath of the Queen," she murmured fearfully to herself. Then, to the Queen: "O my lady, a man hid himself under my settle in the North District and begged my protection. He said he was searching for his wife and children, and would die if he found them not. Never have I seen a braver or more handsome man. I tried to discourage him, but-"

"And so you brought him here . . ." the Queen said softly. "Concealing him carefully from your troops while you kept him in your tent."

"O my lady!"

The Queen contemplated her thoughtfully. "And the favor you crave of me is this: that I now permit this mannequin of yours to achieve his desire."

Shawahi maintained the silence of terror. She knew too well the mannerisms of the Queen.

The storm broke. "O ill-omened beldame! Have you come to such a state of lewdness that you now must sneak strange males to the sacred isles of Wak and flaunt them before your Queen? Have you no fear of the mischief I should wreak upon your head for such treachery? By the head of my father the King, but for your service in my youth, I would immediately put both you and this man to the foulest of deaths, and set your corpses beside the gates of the city so that travelers might take dire warning by your fate. O accursed! None dares do the like of this outrageous deed!"

A glimmer of hope lit the old woman's face. The Queen had not stated that she would execute them, only that she might. "O mistress of the ages! Surely it behooves your power and generosity to grant this suffering traveler some token. At least give him audience before sending him on his way. He hails from Baghdad, throne city of the Caliph Harun al-Rashid."

"Baghdad? I know of no such city." But Shawahi knew by the subtle nuances of her manner that the Queen did recognize the name.

"O my Queen! It is a rich and powerful empire with armies like the sands of the sea, and Hasan is a prince of- "

"A prince? Then why did he have to beg your aid?"

"A prince of merchants, O my lady." Shawahi was no longer certain how much the Queen knew. Could she actually be Hasan's wife? At any rate, it obviously wasn't safe to try to pa.s.s him off as royal born, however helpful that might have been. "All he desires in the world is the recovery of his wife and two sons. A small thing to grant, to one of your-"

"I will be the judge of what is small." But she was interested now. "He has two sons, but sent his wife to Wak? What kind of man is this?"

"He did not send her. She escaped without his notice and flew with her children to Wak, leaving word for him to follow if he desired. And now he is here, having braved the most-"

The Queen cut her off with a gesture. "I don't have time to see him. But his case is curious, and I will grant him what he says he wants. Summon all the women of the city and parade them before him tomorrow; if he knows his wife among them, I will deliver her to him and send him home with honor."

"But my lady-"

"And if he knows her not in the morning, I will crucify him over your door that very afternoon. Such is my decision."

"And this is the calamity you have brought upon your- self!" Shawahi said to Hasan in conclusion. "Now that the Queen knows of your presence here, there is no es- cape. Tomorrow you must view the a.s.sembled women of the city."

"But that's no calamity. The Queen is helping me."

Shawahi sighed, as she did so often when reasoning with him. "O for the innocence of youth! She has sen- tenced you to death, Hasan."

"But I can recognize my wife in a moment."

She closed her eyes as though in meditation. "You will view all the women of the city, no more. This city. Do you know how many cities there are in the empire of Wak?"

"Why, I thought-"

"But let's say she is in this one city, of all the hundreds in Wak. What makes you think you'll see her?"

"But you said all the women would be-"