Read Under A Million Stars Page 5


  And yet he was etched into my beating heart.

  Never would my eyes see another as beautiful unless it be that man.

  Before the night did pull its blanket of darkness over the world, we were welcomed into the palace of King Saam of Siestan. Oh formalities, you are such a burden when this question of utmost importance did need so desperately to be asked. I bit my lip to keep my mouth sealed as the blessings were made and gifts exchanged. A great feast was laid but hardly a morsel could pass my lips for the words waiting inside my mouth to be spoken.

  Hours upon hours passed in ceremony but none paid me any mind as the Kings spoke of kingly business and drank dark wine while the servants were sent to prepare the tents and sleeping quarters for the night’s repose. I drifted into a dream even as I sat rigid in my seat, until at last I was startled by the rough sound of the heavy chairs scraping the floor. I looked to my father as he stood face to face with King Saam and I slid from my chair to stand behind him. The King did look at me then. He said words about my beauty. He called a blessing upon me and he apologized for not releasing me to my repose after such a long journey, but I was still in a walking dream and only one thought filled my head.

  “My Lord, who is the king upon the mountain with the bird of fire at his right hand?” I asked him as I bowed before him.

  But no answer was made.

  I dared to look at my host again and he seemed lost and saddened. But a moment later he recovered and said to my father, “I do think she is dreaming as she stands among us!” He laughed merrily but then he did bid us a good night and turned away.

  Not another word was spoken about the man.

  4. Zal:

  The world of men was changing in the places beneath the shadow of my mountain home.

  With each passing caravan my mother did grow more distant though her tender touch did linger ever longer. “Your time is nearly here, Zal. The day you must return to the life meant for you is coming,” she told me.

  But I made no move to leave and she made no effort to send me off.

  A year I spent watching the movements of men. I did not hide myself from their eyes; I stood boldly upon the height of my mountain. And though I made not a single effort to waylay them nor did I ask tribute as they crossed my lands, there were still men who fired their arrows upon me. I thought long and hard on those men. I recalled my mother’s words on the day the serpent bit me. I thought that I would rather be like the serpent. I would be brave enough to confront that which threatened me, that which I feared. I would not take arms against that which had done me no harm. As I was wrongly judged I would not judge another without knowing his path.

  For in my mind, killing was not a heroic deed. Life should not be wasted upon a random arrow. There must be meaning. I would kill to protect my mother. I would kill to feed those I loved or to save their homes. I would not kill out of fear or revenge, but instead be a hero to those in need.

  And it was not long past that day when I decided what sort of man I would be in the world of men when a host moved toward my mountain. I could see them from a good distance, but my mother’s eye was greater than my own.

  “He is come, Zal. Your father has come to claim you, to give you your birthright.”

  “He cast out his son. What if his is not a blessing I want,” I asked her honestly. There was not bitterness or venom in my words. I simply wanted her opinion.

  “Zal, my most beloved, forgiveness is a gift that you are not obliged to give. Hear his words. Judge him upon what he tells you. Accept the apology that is offered, but you needn’t forgive until you feel it in your heart. He judged you wrongly, but he comes here knowing all he lost.”

  “And what will happen to you if I leave?”

  “I will ever be the shadow at your shoulder that protects you from harm. I will give you three feathers and when you have need, set the feather aflame and I will rise from the ashes.”

  The men below halted at the edge of the trees and the King approached with just two others. He looked up to the summit and bowed to me. He seemed determined to reach me. He bid the last two men to remain below, removed his rich cloak and he began to climb. His hair was silvered with age, and while he was still strong, he was no match for my mountain.

  “Meet him half way, Zal. His day is setting while yours is just rising.”

  “As you wish.”

  I leapt from the crest as I had done a thousand times, for I knew every inch of the mountain and my footing was sure. I landed before him. He looked up at me in awe and then he bowed low, touching his forehead to the dirt.

  My mother took wing and circled the sky above us then she landed upon my outstretched arm. “Rise, Saam, King of Siestan and see that which was given as a blessing. Marvel at what you made and abandoned. Rejoice that you should get a second chance.”

  He stayed upon his knees and he did bless her for her love of me and then he did unburden his heart with the truth of his rash words, his fear and anger, his regret and his hope for redemption. And I did forgive him easily because his words were honest. He praised my mother. He gave her respect and love, and if he was a good enough man to know when a great deed was done for him then he was worth a chance.

  Thus was my return to the world of men.

  The people did honor me greatly. They looked in awe upon the shock of white hair and they did know I was the true son of Saam. They praised my form and my strength. The women did gush and act in ways that animals did not behave, with suggestive words, coy looks and exposure that made the heat rise within me, but in the darkness they did satisfy themselves upon me as I expected.

  I did have a hard time adjusting to courtly life. Many times I returned to my mountain and the shelter of my mother. The people confounded me and my mother knew better than I how to proceed in many ways. Her advice was always sound and well reasoned, especially when she spoke of love.

  “Zal, it is the most irrational of all feelings, and the most desired. It is the reason you live, and it is worth living for, thus I live. I promise you there will be a woman who will love you for the man you are, and not the beautiful form and position in the court. Do not just look at her, Son, look inside her. See that which she loves and that which she fears equally. Touch her tenderly and speak softly, kindly. Love is much like a child, it must grow and mature to bloom into full wonder.”

  And I did cry tears to her because she did love me above all things. I told her all that was in my heart then I went back to the world of men below. But there was not the love she wished for me in Siestan so I did set out to see the whole of the world with those who would have been my peers had I grown among them. It was long months upon the road. I was brought before the Shah of the World and he did test me in many ways, physically and mentally. When he was satisfied, he did ask his seers to read my stars that he might know if I was a worthy to inherit the lands of my father. And the seers did rejoice for I was meant to be a mighty knight and a strong ruler. The Shah did then give us many gifts of horses and land and named us heroes.

  Still I traveled on.

  The Siestan were a strong force and as such, I, the prince was received with honor in many kingdoms. There were many feasts and games of challenge. I was showered with gifts of coins and jewels. I was given a very fine stone cut in the east, which was clear as the sea, but luminescent, glowing from within. And I found comfort in that stone as it did seem to tell me each time I looked at it that what was inside was what mattered. I wore it upon my hand to remind me always.

  But I did not find love.

  We camped outside the Kingdom of Cabul. Many rumors came to my ear about the people within. I did not know what to make of the tales, but I did desire to meet the King and when he did hear who was camped upon his border he rode out with his banners and his musicians to greet us. I spread a feast for this man because I wished to know the one they called Descendent of the Serpent, for most men thought the serpent a cruel
trickster, I knew better.

  Mihrab looked upon me in something like awe for just a moment before he bowed low, touching his forehead to the dirt at my feet. He remained upon his knees as he spoke. “Zal, son of Saam, I have paid tribute to your father. I pray he calls me friend. I ask the blessing of the gods upon you. May you prosper well and rule mightily.”

  I blessed him as well and bid him rise. But he did continue to look at me in wonder.

  “Is it my hair that has you tongue tied?” I asked.

  “No, my lord, I was given a vision once when I was upon the road. I saw a splendid young man upon the mountain. He shone in the sun. Now he stands before me more glorious than I imagined. I wish to honor you, but I know not how to properly proclaim a man touched by the gods. I pray thee tell me how you would find me worthy.”

  “I find you worthy of friendship upon the honesty of your words.”

  We did feast and talk at length. Mihrab was very fine of face, but more importantly, he was clear in his words. He told me honestly of the struggles his kingdom faced, and how the disfavor of the Shah had long lingered. He did not ask me to stand for him, but only that if I found him a worthy man, not to stand against his people when the Shah at last came to raze them.

  And I agreed to such, but though he invited me to spend the night in his home, I was compelled to decline because the Shah had honored both my father and I, and this man who was better than his forefathers, was still his enemy.

  But I did brood when he left my company.

  My servant did ask what my matter was, and I confided in him that I found such politic distasteful. That a man so fine of face and good of heart should not be judged by the bygone ages. I should not have to decline a friendship because of a grudge older than any of the persons involved. I was thinking deeply upon this when my servant spoke again. “If you think the King is fine of face, you should look upon his first daughter.”

  “He has children?”

  “He has many, but she is the pride of Cabul.”

  “What do you know of her?”

  “Her beauty has been sung around the world. She is like the face of the moon and her Raven hair the dark sky around her. She has lips the color of the finest rubies and breasts...”

  “Stop. Say no more. I must look upon this marvel.”

  “My Lord, would it not be prudent to simply return home and forget this land and these...”

  “I said, say no more,” I told him firmly, dismissing him. I could not get this daughter out of my mind, for I was son of the Phoenix and she was of the Serpent. This seemed a great omen to me because I had chosen to respect the serpent for his bravery, and I had not found a women to whom I felt a connection until the moment I knew of this princess’ existence.

  I had to see her.

  5. Ruby:

  Oh cruel fate, why should it be that those cursed for being deceivers should revere honesty at the one time that terrible reputation might help them?

  No, I did not want my father to be other than the man he was, but I did desperately want him to do that which I overheard him tell my mother he would not.

  He came to the house of ladies upon his return from beyond the gates. Many were a twitter wondering what army sat upon our doorstep and if the end of the world was at hand. And as always when my father was in need of comfort and advice he came to my mother.

  I was not there to spy or eaves drop, truly, I did not even know my father was afoot. I simply wished to speak with my mother, but I heard her speaking and when the answering voice was heard, I made to leave.

  But her words did register in my head: ‘is this white-haired son of Saam worthy?’

  And my father did answer with such praise and glorification of the man, that I knew in my heart it was the King of the Mountain that stood outside our gates. My years of longing for this man whom I saw for only a moment had come to this and I knew I must meet him. I must!

  The conversation still carried on in the room my mother kept, but my ears had slipped away while my mind relived its dream. Until the moment my mother said: “if he is such a hero as you say, perhaps instead of just friendship, you could offer him kinship.”

  “Offer him Rudabeh?”

  “Yes,” she answered simply.

  “Yes! Offer me,” I screamed out in my head!

  But my father said he could not. He reasoned that if it came to having to placate the Shah, and I was the price of peace, I would have to be pure. It would not be possible to make such an offer to the Shah if I had already been offered to another.

  My mother saw reason, but I could not. I had to meet him. I had to. But I was forbidden to leave the house of women without my father’s escort. And so I would have to find a way to summon him to me.

  I did sulk and fret in my room, for no answer did readily come to me, but many worries did. I did not know when he would leave. My chance was so small. I did not know how to summon such a man, such a beautiful man. The one man my heart was set upon.

  And I knew that should he feel love for me, that love could ruin the world.

  But I was given a vision of him once and I felt in my heart there had to be a reason.

  My servants fretted over me for I would neither eat nor drink as I searched my mind for any answer to my problem. At last, the one I confided in took my hand and made me sit.

  “Ruby,” she said quietly, “you must tell me what ails you. You have not been yourself and the others are beginning to worry. Soon they will tell your mother that you are ill, but I think it is not a sickness of the body, I think you are love sick.”

  “It is more than love sickness! I am feverish and frantic! The man I have given my heart sits just beyond the city and I cannot reach him! I must see him. I must or I will surely die of grief!”

  “You’re parents will be most angry.”

  “Yes. And the world may end if he feels love for me as I feel for him, but I would throw myself from this tower if he left and I missed my chance to meet him.”

  “Why this man?”

  “I saw him once before when I traveled with my father. He is a god among men. I can love no other man.”

  “Very well. Tell the others you feel such melancholy and only the scent of roses freshly picked will ease the burden.”

  “Roses?”

  “Only grow along the river beyond the gate. While they pick the blooms, I will try to get a message to one of his men.”

  So it was the plan was set into motion. It was doomed to fail. How could such a frivolous mission be considered while a host sat upon our door? But the first daughter wanted roses and the guards opened the gates for my ladies to get them. I paced. I set a bowl of musk near the tapestries and fluffed the soft down pillows. I distracted myself with trivialities so I would not think about what a man raised upon a mountain might be like. And at last my ladies returned with many roses and I did rejoice to see them. They did think they cured me and they brought in fruits and drink for me as I set the glorious roses into bowls and admired the delicate scents.

  I waited.

  I begged the sun to speed his journey across the sky, but he did take his own time heedless of my plight. At last the doors were locked and the keys withdrawn. How my heart did race as the time stubbornly lingered. I stood upon the ledge, scanning the night. My eyes searching every inch of the land but I saw nothing. I was beginning to think he would not come.

  When from nowhere he suddenly appeared below my window.

  6. Zal:

  The Moon of Cabul, First Daughter of Mihrab did send me a message asking to meet.

  My blood raced in my veins. I felt some destiny upon myself though I knew not if it were good or bad. I did wonder if I was heading to my death, for the Serpent will protect his home and he will do so silently. But I walked alone to the place I was assigned. I carried one of the feathers my mother gave me though I did not believe I would have need of it.

  And there she did stand,
waiting. The fabled raven locks blowing gently in the evening breeze as she looked out into the night awaiting me. She was every bit the beauty I was told she was, but I needed more than beauty. I needed to know what was inside her, what her heart was made of.

  I did softly call my greeting to her.

  She gasped. “Welcome son of the hero, blessings of the Gods upon you!”

  “And unto you Moon of Cabul. Might we speak privately? I have no wish to harm you or your reputation only to meet that which was described as perfection.”

  “Is perfection what you seek?” she asked softly.

  “No. What I seek cannot be seen with the eye.”

  “I very much desire audience, but I have not rope to lower.”

  “I don’t need rope, only permission to approach.”

  “Granted.”

  I did take a running leap and bound to the railing of her ledge. And she looked upon me in awe as I stood. She dropped to the floor and looked up at me. She tilted her head left and right then she stood and walked around me, looking at me from every angle. She lifted my hand, examining my right arm, looking for something of which I did not know. But her ruby lips curved in a pretty smile and she looked into my eyes.

  “Your hair, may I touch it?”

  “Yes. You are...”

  “Um, yes, Daughter of the Moon, fair as the slender cypress, raven hair like the night and so on. That is what they say,” she said absently, as she ran her fingers into my white hair and looked at me in open-mouthed awe. “It is you. It really is you.”

  “Yes. You summoned me...”

  “I did. Forgive me, I stand here looking at a miracle and I have forgotten myself! I am Rudabeh, first daughter of Mihrab, they call me Ruby.”