The Forty Thieves

by Christy Lenzi

  Stinger!

  Saja and I stand up. Stinger and his gang rush up the street like a dust storm, knocking over the bathies and blinding them in surprise. I cheer and run with Saja to help Jamal fight off the last of the boys who are climbing the tree.

  It isn’t long before the whole gang turns tail and runs like a herd of sheep bolting down the street. Saja, Jamal, and I clamber down from the roof to join Stinger and his gang as they whoop and laugh at the retreating bathies.

  Shutters on nearby houses slide open, and doors crack as neighbors peek out to watch the bathhouse gang run away. I notice Ali Baba and his family peering out their windows in amazement. I almost wave in my excitement, but remember just in time that they have never met Khubz before. It might be best to keep it that way.

  Stinger claps me on the back. He’s tucked the yellow rose I gave him into his belt. “Nicely done, Khubz. Nicely done.”

  I slap him on the back, too. “Not so bad, yourself! A little late, but nicely done. For a boy.”

  Stinger laughs and then squints at Saja.

  She’s already blushing as she looks at Stinger.

  He grins at her. “You’ve got a good throwing arm there … Lumpy.”

  Saja smiles and says, “You can call me Saja.”

  “Well, ‘Lumpy’ was all right, but I like ‘Saja’ better.” He glances over the street. “We’d better get going before the neighbors come out.” And before I can say ‘Wa alaykum as-salaam,’ Stinger flies like a wild bird with his flock of boys, down the street and out of sight.

  Saja and I run around the house to the window. She helps me climb in. “I need to get back to the bathhouse, but I’ll come see you tomorrow night. I have something to give you,” she whispers. “And, Khubz?”

  I lean out the window, my elbows on the sill. “What, Lumpy?”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what? Getting you into bushes and having you help me throw stinky food?”

  Saja smiles. “Thank you for twisting our fates together.”

  “I think it will be a beautiful thread.” Our thoughts seem close enough to touch. “Strong and beautiful.”

  CHAPTER

  25

  The next evening, I feel slightly guilty for frightening Cook the night before, so I help her prepare dinner with Jamal. We’re making partridge with quince, and the kitchen is full of the aroma of fennel, onion, and saffron. As Jamal fetches the salt, I lower the bird into the simmering pot and Cook fetches more flour from the storeroom.

  Ali Baba pokes his head into the kitchen. “We have a fine guest for dinner!”

  “Who is this ‘fine guest’?” Ever since the oil merchant turned out to be the captain of the robbers, I am leery of strangers.

  “His name is Khoja Hoseyn, the gentleman who bought the shop across the street from the madrasa. He is a fine, dignified man. Very polite and pleasant. He had asked my son to dine, but Rasheed cannot attend alone, due to his weak legs. So, Rasheed has invited Khoja Hoseyn here, instead!”

  I cross my arms over my chest and stare hard at Ali Baba. He is too trusting of strangers.

  “He is an honest man, Marjana,” Ali Baba says. “We are very fortunate to have him in our neighborhood. If it were not for him, the gang that attacked my madrasa would surely have destroyed it.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, it’s true! We are indebted to him—Khoja Hoseyn says the reason that other gang fought them off was because he pays protection money for the whole neighborhood. Isn’t that generous of him?” Ali Baba smiles and leaves the kitchen.

  I’m stunned. None of it makes sense. I can’t keep my mind on my work and must see this man with my own eyes. When it’s time for Jamal to serve the food, I put on my scarf and drape it over my face before helping my brother carry the dishes out to the men.

  Ali Baba’s guest is lanky, with a surprisingly large belly for one so otherwise slender. He has dark eyes, and his high cheekbones are almost hidden under a thick, bushy white beard. Almost, but not quite. The blood drains from my face. My body freezes as I remember the face of the devil-man standing over Abu-Zayed. It’s true he’s always been in shadow when I’ve seen him, but the shape of his face seems so familiar in my mind. Something about this man … Could this Khoja Hoseyn be the captain of the Forty Thieves?

  I bite my lip and try not to stare. Before I can pull my eyes away, I notice the shape of a dagger hidden under his garments. A friendly guest would never arm himself before dining with a host. He intends to kill Ali Baba and Rasheed after he enjoys their hospitality!

  I shake like a spring leaf as I usher Jamal around the partition where the washing basin and linens are kept.

  He slips his hand into mine, looking as if he’s seen a demon.

  “Jamal—”

  He nods his head, his eyes wide. “It’s him!”

  I draw him close. “I know. Ali Baba’s guest is really—”

  “Red Beard!” Jamal whispers.

  “What? No.” I kneel down beside him. “Not Red Beard. This man is really the captain of the Forty—” I stop. Red Beard. Could it be? I peek around the partition at the men and picture the merchant with a bright red beard and darkened eyes. I almost gasp out loud. Jamal is right! And so am I. The devil-man and the leader of the gangs are the same man. That’s why Red Beard calls up some of his older gang members to replace his men—men in his band of Forty Thieves! And to think that little Jamal sat with him on his horse and hoped to be just like him!

  We can’t leave Khoja Hoseyn alone with the men after supper. I take hold of Jamal’s arms and give him a grave look. “Jamal, this man is not just Red Beard. He’s the captain of the thieves who killed the guards and kidnapped us. He killed Master and tried to kill Ali Baba and Rasheed! If we don’t do something, he’ll try it again tonight!”

  Jamal’s lip trembles.

  “Remember how we were brave enough to escape him in the desert? Now, don’t be afraid to go back in there. You’re a bold warrior. Red Beard thought so himself, didn’t he?”

  He nods. “But when he sees me, he’ll be mad I ran away from him those times. What if he—”

  “Remember, he’s not after you; he’s after them because they know the secret of the cave.”

  “So do I!”

  “But he doesn’t know that. You need to go back out there and pretend you don’t know any of this. Pretend you don’t even recognize him. I know you can do it, Jamal. I have a plan to warn Ali Baba and Rasheed who Khoja really is, but I need you to be brave like Sinbad, from Rasheed’s stories. Can you do that, little donkey?”

  Jamal nods.

  I give him a hug. “I’ll be back soon.”

  While Jamal attends to the men, I slip to my room and fasten the silver dagger’s sheath around my thigh.

  “Marjana!”

  I jump at Saja’s voice from the window. “You startled me!” I help her into the room. “My nerves are hopping like hot grease over fire—I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I wanted to give you this.” Saja holds something between her fingers.

  I smile as she places it in my palm.

  “Sesame. ‘You are my treasure.’”

  Such a tiny seed for such an ocean of feelings. I slip my knife from its sheath and open the hidden compartment at the end of the dagger’s hilt, dropping the seed into the secret place with the sprig of jasmine. “I’ll keep it near me always.” I shut the lid and slide the knife back into the sheath.

  “But, Saja, something awful has happened.” I tell her the news. The blood drains from Saja’s face when she hears the captain of the Forty Thieves is Red Beard and that he’s in the house this very moment. I take her by the elbow. “I need your help.”

  Her eyes grow wide. “I can’t do anything to stop him!”

  “I have a plan for when the men are finished eating, but Saja, I need you to go get the magistrate.”

  “Alone? The magistrate’s far from the bathhouse—” She glances nervously at me. “I could use one of
Ali Baba’s mules, but it’s getting so dark!” She wrings her hands. “Will the magistrate even listen to me?” She bites her lip. “I’ll make him listen. But what if the mistress of the baths finds out?” She takes in a sharp breath. “What if the captain gets away and finds out?”

  “I know you can do it. You saved me from the boy with the club. You can do this. We have to stop Red Beard from being a danger to any more boys like Badi.”

  Saja stares at me with wide eyes. Finally, she takes a deep breath and nods. “I will.” The words seem to give her strength like some kind of strange magic, and she stands up straighter. “I will.”

  “Be careful!” I hug her before helping her out the window and watch her disappear into the night. My treasure.

  When I rush back to Jamal, he’s almost done collecting the dishes. We have to keep the devil-man from being alone with the men for as long as possible until Saja brings the magistrate. I pull Jamal aside and hand him his pipe and tabor. “Here! Walk into the room ahead of me, playing. It’s part of the plan.”

  Jamal frowns. “But we weren’t invited. And how can dancing and music be a good plan?”

  “Well, who would have thought that something as simple as storytelling could be such a powerful plan? But it worked for Scheherazade in Rasheed’s tales, didn’t it?” I try to keep my voice pleasant so I won’t frighten him. “Remember what Rasheed said—music is existence itself. And the Sufis’ whirling dance brings them closer to Allah. Our music and dancing can be powerful, too.”

  Jamal stands up straighter and tucks the drum under his arm.

  I pull the veil of my headdress down over my eyes so the captain won’t recognize me. “Let’s make it strong and beautiful.”

  Jamal nods and begins beating the drum and playing the pipe as he walks into the room, announcing our presence. We wait, silently, for permission to continue.

  Khoja Hoseyn’s smile fades when he sees us, but when Ali Baba claps in appreciation, he pretends to be pleased and claps as well. The devil-man stares hard at Jamal and me but doesn’t say a word. I curtsy and Jamal bows.

  “Ah, Khoja,” Ali Baba says to him, “you shall have some delightful entertainment. Our young friends are extremely talented. Please, children, proceed.”

  And then we begin. The old, familiar sound of my brother’s drumming moves my hands first, starting from the tips of my fingers. My hands dance for my audience, who watch, mesmerized, as my fingers curl and sway and beckon to them like trees in the wind. Their eyes grow larger and they lean in closer. They never knew fingers could dance all by themselves. Their hands don’t know how to do such things. They watch as my arms join the dance, and slowly, slowly, my shoulders, my hips, my feet. All to Jamal’s beat.

  My dancing hands and his drumming hands have always been connected by an invisible magic thread. We always know what each other needs during the dance without saying a word. Soon, the beat moves from my limbs to my heart, waking my strength and courage. My whole body comes alive. Jamal has never played so well. His bravery speaks through every beat.

  After several dances, I draw my dagger from its sheath for my final performance and make a graceful pass as I leap through the air. I use the dagger as a dramatic prop and lunge toward the men as if to attack, pretending to be a ruthless robber with a sword. Jamal catches on quickly to my new dance and intensifies his rhythm.

  I point the blade to Rasheed’s breast, then spin toward Ali Baba. As I draw near to Ali Baba, I try to alert him with my eyes as well as my actions, glancing pointedly toward Khoja Hoseyn and back to Ali Baba. I raise my knife to Ali Baba’s throat before spinning away.

  The feverish beat of the drum and my movements seem to set my whole body on fire. My heart beats harder than it ever has before. Finally, I’m so exhausted I can dance no longer. But I have to make Ali Baba understand so he can defend himself. Out of breath, my chest heaving, I grab Jamal’s tabor. With my dagger poised above Ali Baba, I flip the drum over and hold it out to him as if I’m a robber demanding money from a victim. I pray he understands my warnings about the devil-man.

  But Ali Baba and Rasheed merely chuckle and drop some dinars into the drum.

  My heart sinks like a stone.

  The captain, on the other hand, seems to understand my message perfectly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the captain’s hand slide toward his own dagger, hidden beneath his robe. The men are not alarmed, thinking their guest is also reaching for his purse to give me a present. They don’t notice the fierce gleam in his eyes.

  I can’t wait any longer for Saja and the magistrate. Swallowing my fear, I spin toward the captain. The devil-man’s fingers wrap around the hilt of his knife, and a glint of metal flashes as it parts from its sheath.

  He lunges toward Ali Baba.

  CHAPTER

  26

  “No!” I cry, and jump between Ali Baba and the devil-man. My body and the captain’s slam together like two rushing winds; only my knife separates us. It plunges deep into his belly, and the devil-man falls to the floor as I draw the bloody dagger from his body.

  The room spins.

  Ali Baba leaps to his feet. “Oh, Marjana!” he cries. He and Rasheed stare in horror at the fallen guest.

  Breathless, I kick the captain’s dagger out of reach and stand over him as he holds his wound and gasps for breath.

  The devil-man looks up at me. I’ve lost my veil in the confusion. His expression is full of fire, until he sees my eyes. “Khubz.” The devil-man’s eyes slide shut, and a strangled laugh escapes his throat. “So my fortune has come true. I shall ‘die by the sword of one who is not what they were.’” He stares back up at me and chokes out another harsh laugh.

  With one last effort, the captain reaches toward the drum that fell nearby and scrapes Ali Baba’s gold coins into his palm. His fingers close around them as he takes his last breath. His body falls limp.

  Alarmed at my cry, Mistress and Leila run into the room. Their faces are white with fear. Loud voices ring out from the front of the house. Fists bang open the door. The magistrate and his men burst into the room, Saja at their side. “What is the meaning of this?” the magistrate demands, glancing at the body.

  Ali Baba rushes to my side. “Are you all right? Marjana, I don’t understand—what’s happened?”

  My dagger slips from my trembling fingers and clatters to the floor. I struggle to catch my breath.

  Saja hurries to me. “Praise Allah, you’re safe!” Bending over the dead man, Saja pulls off his false white beard and lifts his garments, exposing the padding of his disguise. “Ali Baba, the magistrate has come for this man—Marjana saved you from a murderer!”

  Ali Baba looks stunned. The magistrate’s eyebrows rise at the sight of the green serpent on the devil-man’s chest.

  I finally find my voice. “Ali Baba, you’ve entertained your enemy—not only was Khoja Hoseyn your neighbor and the oil merchant, he was also Red Beard, leader of the gangs, and the captain of the Forty Thieves!”

  Ali Baba puts his arm around Leila and draws her near. They stare at me in astonishment. Mistress gives an anguished sob.

  The magistrate’s eyes grow wide. “It’s true. Praise Allah! We’ve been trying to stop this man for years!”

  I lift the dining cloth from the floor, and Saja helps me cover the captain’s body.

  “Take him away!” the magistrate yells to his men. As they carry the body away, he bows to Saja and me. “May Allah bless you both. This is a night of rejoicing for the city of Baghdad.” He turns to Ali Baba, beaming. “It looks as if the reward money you so generously offered shall be given to this young woman’s master, sir.” He gestures to Saja. “Since she reported the captain’s whereabouts directly to me.”

  “Certainly,” Ali Baba whispers, as if still in shock. “I will give it to her master myself. The reward is worth at least four times her bond—I will make certain he grants her freedom and provides for her as well.”

  The magistrate bows again to Saja before le
aving. Her mouth falls open in disbelief as she watches him go. When she turns to me, her face shines like the sun.

  Jamal, who had been silent, runs to me and flings his arms around my waist. “You saved us. Just like Scheherazade!”

  I hug him tightly as the room slowly stops spinning. “With your help, little donkey!” I sink to my knees beside Rasheed. He takes my hand as the truth of what has happened slowly dawns on us all.

  Rasheed shakes his head in amazement. “I have a good imagination, but I could never have imagined the wonderful places fate would take me or my family. It’s been like an incredible magic carpet ride.” He hands me my knife. “I’m grateful fate brought you to us.”

  Leila drops beside me and clasps my other hand. “Yes, praise Allah.”

  Ali Baba throws his hands up in wonder. “I have been a fool, and you have saved us yet again.”

  I shake my head. “No, Ali Baba. Your good heart sometimes blinds you to others’ wickedness, but you are not a fool.”

  He shakes his head. “I hardly know what to say.” A look passes between him and Leila, and Ali Baba speaks. “It would be our honor to have you and your brother join our family if this pleases you. Not as servants, but as dear friends. Of course, for so long, we did not have much to share, but now there is the entire treasure cave to share with as many people as we want!”

  My mouth falls open and I don’t even care that my scarf is gone.

  Saja beams at me and squeezes my shoulder. I hold my knife with the secret of Saja’s sesame seed and Umi’s sweet jasmine hidden in its hilt. I almost laugh out loud from the joy that bubbles to my heart. First Saja’s friendship, and now a family. That day so long ago when the devil-man and his thieves stole Jamal and me away, I never would have imagined my fate held such riches. When Abu-Zayed spoke as the storyteller, he was right about the threads of fate being woven in such an intricate, beautiful way. Umi would be pleased.

  The thought of becoming a member of a loving family makes me feel as if I’m standing in front of my own magic treasure cave where all I have to say is something as simple as “Open, Sesame” and it will be mine.