"Obviously he is proving recalcitrant, daughter. He has been brought by his new mistress for public punishment at the palace of common pleasures. The women of Kava do not allow their men rebellion. Hopefully Haroun will learn obedience, for it is his only salvation. They will be more patient with him than others for he is so pretty, and his cock so randy. Eventually he will learn to be happy again, even if he does not rule in Dariyabar. And, you daughter, must now decide how to save yourself."

Golnar grew pale. "Tell me what to do, mother," she begged.

Keket smiled, and put a comforting arm about her daughter. "Do you know why I allowed your human father to have you, Golnar? Do you know why I saw to it that you caught Prince Haroun's eye? Do you know why I have advised you what to advise your prince?"

Golnar shook her head in the negative.

"I did it because I want to destroy Dariyabar," Keket replied.

"But why?" Golnar was very surprised.

"Long ago," Keket began, "there were two genies, brothers. They had the misfortune to fall in love with the same young girl. One, in an attempt to gain an advantage over the other, entrapped his brother in a bottle, and threw it into the sea. After some days the bottle washed up on this shore, and was found by an adventuring prince named Sinbad, who was in the process of building this city, and this kingdom. He released the genie from the bottle, and to revenge himself upon his brother, the genie showed Sinbad the beautiful girl. One look and the prince was in love. The genie brought this girl to the prince. She loved him, and so they were wed. The other genie, learning of this turn of fate, was about to revenge himself on them all when he discovered that his magic was gone. Stolen! Furious at losing the girl as well as his magic, he flew into a temper, and burst into a thousand pieces. He was my father, Golnar. All my siblings since have been told this story in order that one day our family might wreak their revenge upon Dariyabar. You, and your prince, were to be my tools," Keket said.

"What happened to the other genie?" Golnar asked. "The one that helped Sinbad?"

Keket shrugged. "It doesn't matter," she said.

"If you believe that magic was involved in what has happened, mother, could not your father's brother yet be involved in Dariyabar?" Golnar questioned. "What was his name?"

"Kansbar," Keket said, and her look was thoughtful. "Golnar, my daughter, you have never been particularly clever, but perhaps in your curious innocence you have discovered something. It would take a genie with truly great magic to protect Dariyabar, to transport your prince to Kava, and to strengthen the sultan's life force. Kansbar, if it is indeed him, would have that magic because he has his brother's magic as well. I cannot fight such powers. You must outwit this genie, whoever he is, if you are to help me destroy Dariyabar and avenge your grandfather. The sultan will die within the month. Even the most powerful necromancer cannot maintain a life that has come to its end."

"But then this Amir Khan will be sultan!" Golnar began to weep.

"You must seduce him!" her mother said. "And then you must seduce General Sabola as well. We will make certain that both men know that the other is using you. They are certain to quarrel, particularly if you tell each of them that the other forced you. These human warriors are so noble. With luck, Amir Khan and Sabola will kill each other. Without its sultan, Dariyabar is lost. They will not listen to a woman, and so the princess will have no influence. With no one to rule its empire, Dariyabar will collapse. It is a simple and foolproof plan," Keket concluded.

"But what of this other genie?" Golnar asked.

"The genie will have no interest in you, Golnar," her mother told her. "It will be over and done with by the time anyone realizes what is happening. Even the most powerful genie cannot bring a man back to life, my daughter. Dariyabar cannot do without its sultan, and there will be no sultan." Keket smiled, and arose from the chaise where she had been sprawled. "I must leave you, Golnar. Do as I have instructed you, and destroy Dariyabar for your family. You will be well rewarded for your success, I promise you, and you shall never have to worry about yourself again." Keket bent, and kissed her daughter upon her forehead. "Farewell, my dear. Call me if you need me." She began to dissolve into a deep purple smoke that grew paler and paler until what was left of it made its way back into the alabaster vial. When she was gone, Golnar corked the vial, and lay down upon her bed to consider what her mother had told her.

It was all well and good for Keket to say she would be the instrument of Dariyabar's downfall, but she had not her mother's magic, Golnar thought. All she had ever wanted was to be the mother of Dariyabar's next sultan so she might have power. Now she was expected to seduce the khan and his general, and bring Dariyabar to its destruction? And what of this genie that had all that power, and might very well be guarding the kingdom? Haroun was gone, and was unlikely to ever return. I need to think of myself, Golnar considered. I still might be the mother of the next sultan, if I can seduce Amir Khan into my bed.

It was a tempting thought, and a little smile played about Golnar's lush lips. I do not want to destroy Dariyabar. I want to rule it from behind the sultan's throne. Zuleika is beautiful, but I am just as beautiful. No man is ever completely content with just one woman. That is why princes and sultans have harems. Even my merchant father had a small harem.

I must bide my time, and make certain that I am not sent from the palace. Tomorrow, I will go to the sultan and beg his forgiveness for causing such a scene today. And I will beg the princess' forgiveness too. Her heart is good, for all she is fierce and proud. Haroun always said it was so. I wonder if the feasting is over yet? She went to her windows, drew back the curtains, and opened the latticed shutters. She could hear music from the banqueting hall. They were still celebrating. She wondered if the brides and their husbands were still in the hall, or if they had retired to their nuptial beds. Yes, tomorrow she must make amends for her hysterical outburst. Golnar lay down on her bed. She thought about Haroun being whipped, and the thought was satisfying. She wished it were she who might wield that whip.

In the morning, Golnar awoke to her bodyslave knocking upon her door. Irritated with herself for forgetting she had locked the portal, she arose and opened it.

"Ohh, mistress, I was so fearful for you!" her slavewoman cried, and kissed her hand.

"Not so fearful that you disappeared last evening," Golnar snapped. "Word of my removal from the sultan's hall of audience must have traveled even more swiftly than the wind, for when I returned to the harem there was no one in evidence. The place might well have been deserted! Fearing for my life, I locked myself in my bedchamber. Go to the baths, and tell them I am ready for my morning ablutions."

"Yes, mistress," the slave replied, and scurried off.

In the baths, the slaves were silent as Golnar entered. They tended to her efficiently, and without their usual chatter. Like the prince's favorite, they had no idea what would happen now that Haroun had disappeared and the princess had returned triumphant with her khan. They dared offend no one until it was decided what was to happen.

Golnar was silent also as she was bathed, massaged, and oiled. She had to consider carefully how to remain within the palace. She was not a slave, at least. Haroun had seen her, and admired her, and asked her father for her as his concubine. Her father could not refuse, and was encouraged by his favorite wife to see that Golnar was brought to the palace as if she were a bride. The women had never particularly liked Golnar, but becoming the prince's concubine could but bring honor and glory to her husband's family. Now with Haroun gone, there was no excuse for her to remain unless she was asked. To be returned to her father's house, even with honor, was unthinkable!

She returned to her quarters, and ordered her servants to dress her carefully in sky blue silk robes. Her silver hair was dressed with small, fragrant flowers sewn to silver ribbons. Then she went to find the sultan. He was with the vizier, Abd al Hakim, but hearing she was at his door, Sultan Ibrahim told his guards to allow her to pass.

Golnar threw herself at his feet, and taking the hem of his red silk robe in her hand, kissed it.

"My lord! My lord! I beg your forgiveness for my behavior yesterday. You must understand that the great love I bear my lord Haroun precipitated my outburst. I did not realize that the princess was being wed. I am so ashamed if I spoiled her day. I hope you will forgive me, my lord sultan." She did not look at him, and kept her head bent low.

Neither the sultan nor his vizier were fools, but they were also men with daughters, and their hearts were good.

"Arise, my dear lady Golnar," the sultan said. "You have my forgiveness. I know your love for my nephew."

She stood, and there were tears in her light eyes. "Is there… is there any word?" she quavered in a voice filled with emotion.

The sultan shook his white head. "I am sorry, my dear. It is as if the earth opened up and swallowed him. Still we are searching every corner of the city, and the kingdom."

"Should I return to my father's house, my lord sultan?" Golnar asked him. It was a bold move, and one that could easily backfire on her.

"I have not given up hope, my child," the old man said. "Until we know for certain what has happened to my nephew, you will remain in your harem as you always have. It would not do for Haroun to come home and discover that you were missing, now would it?" He took her plump hand in his, and patted it in fatherly fashion.