Aladdin and the Flying Dutchman (The Aladdin Trilogy Book 3)

by J. R. Rain

  “Perfume!” Then it came to her. “The vilest stench!”

  “The same,” I agreed pleasantly. “Starting with the more dilute version, which we need to dispose of anyway.” I turned to the nearest sailors. “Men, haul the tub out of the cabin.” I signaled Sinbad. “Take the ship right up beside the kraken.”

  “Beside the monster?” Sinbad exclaimed. “This is suicide!”

  “No, it is honoring a lady,” Jewel said.

  Sinbad gave her a look that said “So?” but did not admit that he made no sense of this.

  The crewmen grumbled between choking fits, but got the roiling tub out on deck. Sinbad also grumbled, but guided the ship out over the shallow edge of the monster. They all seemed to feel that I had lost my idiotic mind, but I was the one in charge, so my folly had to be indulged.

  Tentacles were reaching up the sides of the ship, seeking holds.

  Then I had the crewmen dump the tub onto the back of the kraken. We could see the foul liquid bubbling as it spread across the flesh. “Now move off,” I called to Sinbad. “Quickly.”

  He was more than glad to oblige. The ship broke free of the grasping tentacles and sluiced away from the monster.

  The kraken seemed to have a problem. UGH! it honked, just as if it smelled something bad. Its myriad tentacles churned the surrounding water. But that seemed only to spread the stink further. It seemed that the cursed perfume was marvelously intense, so that diluting it merely amplified the taste.

  We watched. Jewel was actually smiling.

  The kraken sounded. It descended in the water so rapidly that a whirlpool formed above it. That vortex caught the ship and sought to drag it into the swirling center. That was mischief.

  But I knew what to do. “Duban,” I said. “If you happen to have a wind spell handy...”

  Duban worked his magic. A stiff breeze came up, blowing away from the whirlpool. Sinbad quickly accommodated the ship, and soon it was riding before the wind, escaping the whirlpool. We were safe.

  “Good thinking, dad,” Duban said. “Wind is easy; it was the monster that was beyond me.”

  “Of course, son,” I agreed patronizingly. “That’s why I stepped in.”

  Jewel shot me a look of mixed disgust and admiration. She knew I had lucked out, this time, and surely suspected that I had done so with the help of the women I had wrapped around my fingers.

  We’ll never tell, Nylon thought, amused again.

  Women do this sort of thing for men all the time, Sylvie agreed. But I felt her quickly turn somber.

  You are concerned for your sister sirens? I subvocalized and thought to her.

  Yes, sire. My sisters need my help. We have suffered much loss today.

  Go to them. Hurry.

  Thank you, sire!

  And with that, she rapidly uncurled from my finger and transformed to her proper size and shape. Now naked and jaw-droppingly beautiful, she bowed to me slightly, then leaped over the railing. Once in the water, her feet instantly transformed into a tail. She thrust once, twice, and soon disappeared from sight. Indeed, there was a great wailing from the ocean, but these were not the haunting Sirens’ call. These were songs of mourning, and I felt for the magical creatures.

  “What of the other ship?” Sinbad said to me when Sylvie was gone.

  The merchanter! I had quite forgotten it in my need to deal with the kraken. It had been blown clear of the whirlpool by the same wind that saved us. Now it was within hailing distance, and the person remained on its deck.

  As I squinted to make it out, I saw that the figure was female, and quite attractive, especially with the wind blowing against her garment and drawing on her long hair. Who was she, and why had she seemed so unafraid of the doom that had threatened her? Or was my first thought accurate, that she might actually have brought the monster here? In that case she might be dangerous. How could we know?

  “Hail the ship,” I told Sinbad. “We need to learn more about it, before we join the sirens.” As if this were a routine interaction.

  “She’s beautiful,” Jewel said. “Unfortunately you don’t need another concubine.”

  Amen to that, Nylon agreed. A man sees a shapely outline, and whatever common sense he might have dissipates into lust.

  She was in a position to know. Sometimes there seemed to be too many women surrounding me. It hampered my style.

  Chapter Three

  Just as Sinbad turned the great wheel in preparation for contact with the errant ship, a dense fog rolled in. So dense and so sudden, that I sensed sorcery.

  The small merchant ship was immediately enshrouded in fog. So much so, that it disappeared from sight.

  “Duban,” I murmured.

  The boy twitched his fingers, and the fog thinned. Routine minor magic, for him, like practicing his scales. The ship dimly reappeared.

  In that instant, Sylvie Siren leaped from the sea, transformed in mid-air, and landed on the deck with human feet. Truly a remarkable magical feat.

  “It is gone, Aladdin,” she cried out.

  “What is gone?”

  “The Key to Hades.”

  “But I don’t understand, we stopped the kraken—”

  “Which only served as a diversion. The thief had struck even while the great beast attacked my sister sirens. Three are dead.”

  “Blast. But who could pull off such an outrageous—”

  And it struck me. Of course, I knew of a thief skilled enough; indeed, the one thief who had already penetrated the bowels of the Sirens’ lair.

  The Thief of Baghdad.

  As Sylvie returned to my finger, I ordered Sinbad and the others to search for the thief, but the wretch, of course, was nowhere to be found. Cursing, I next turned my attention to the nearby merchant vessel, which was clarifying as we approached it, and soon grappling lines were sent out, latching the merchanter to our own. Sinbad and a handful of men boarded the smaller ship. To my surprise, the young woman, who only looked more beautiful the closer we got, threw herself into the stunned sailor’s arms.

  Shortly, she was led aboard the Dutchman and over to me, where I stood with my wife, Duban, and Nydea Nymph, who was presently betrothed to Sinbad. Our newest passenger, the girl, explained that she was to be fed to the kraken, as a reward for its services. Indeed, nine others, equally young and fair, had already been consumed by the great beast.

  “I was the last, my lord. The final, choice meal. I had watched in horror as the previous nine were rendered in half and shoved into the monster’s hideous maw.”

  I shuddered. Now I understood why she had thrown herself into Sinbad’s arms! She must have been frozen in horror, watching the kraken, rather than nonchalant. “And who did this to you?” I asked. “Who submitted you to such brutality?”

  “We never saw him,” she said, shuddering. “But he was surely a consummately evil man, with power we could not deny.”

  Beware, Nylon thought. It is too easy to blame an anonymous male. Be polite, but do not trust her yet.

  Good advice. “Feed this girl,” I said to one of the human crew. “And make sure she has clean clothing and a warm bed.”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  But instead of going with them, she threw herself at my feet, in the process revealing new aspects of her body, especially her full bosom. “Thank you, my lord! You are wonderful!”

  That view is deliberate, Nylon thought. She’s a pro.

  As a ruler, I am not unfamiliar with having someone throw themselves at my feet. Generally, though, I know the reason. Here, I was as stunned as anyone. “Get back on your feet,” I said, stalling for a bit of time.

  She got slowly and gracefully to her feet, her limber body displaying itself even more impressively as she did.

  A pro, Nylon repeated.

  My wife’s initial assessment was true: the woman was indeed beautiful. But now that I was close-up, I could appreciate just how beautiful: long, dark hair, almond-shaped eyes, slender neck and full lips. Her lashes, I noted,
were impossibly long. Perhaps the longest I’d ever seen.

  “What’s your name?” I asked, finding speaking suddenly difficult. Jewel, I noted, was watching my reaction very carefully, curiously. She sensed something was amiss, obviously. Behind me, the other men on board gathered, like seabirds around entrails.

  Men, said Nylon. So predictable.

  “I am called Dea.” She smiled shyly and held my gaze long enough for me to eventually look away. I suddenly felt like a young ruffian with his first crush.

  The men all quickly agreed that this was the most beautiful name they had ever heard. Sinbad, too. Even Duban nodded along. A pro indeed!

  “Oh, brother,” said Jewel. Evidently, the maiden’s charms were lost on my wife—and the women on board.

  I said to the woman, “From which port do you hail? We shall return you to your home.”

  “I do not know, master.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I have been a slave all my life. At sea all my life.”

  “A slave?” I asked, surprised. She did not have the appearance of a slave. If anything—

  “A sex slave, master,” she said, confirming my suspicions. “A prized sex slave.”

  That I could believe. I swallowed hard and suddenly found speaking difficult again. Not that I approved of sex slaves; in fact, slavery of any type was something I was working hard to abolish from my kingdom. But Dea actually sounded as if she...enjoyed being used by the crew. The men around me sensed it as well, and now there was a great chattering behind me, sounding much like the monkeys in my royal zoo.

  I found my tongue again, which seemed to have gotten stuck to the roof of my mouth. I cleared my throat with difficulty. “I’m sorry to hear that, Dea. You’re safe here.”

  “You are my hero.” She turned and looked at the surrounding, stupefied men. “All of you.”

  The men beamed and puffed out their chests, and my wife had evidently seen enough. She banished all of them, shaking her head. “Pathetic,” she said, as the men reluctantly moved off. She turned to Dea. “I believe you to be a witch.”

  “That is a hurtful thing to say, mistress. I am but a simple slave.”

  “Yes, a sex slave. You’ve made that abundantly clear.” My wife next leaned into me and spoke into my ear: “It’s not becoming for a king to drool over himself.”

  Then she took the girl’s hand and led her away. Nydea Nymph followed, and I heard my wife tell the girl they would give her a bath and clean her up.

  “She is a healthy one,” said Sinbad, as we watched the trio depart.

  “Aye.”

  “So where to now, Aladdin?”

  As I considered our options, Sylvie spoke up. Sire, we sirens could use the cursed perfume, should we cross paths again with the kraken. It proved more than effective. We have, of course the original, uncursed perfume.

  Would be a nice gesture for Jewel, said Nylon. Seeing that you ticked her off.

  Will I ever do anything right? I asked.

  Are you a male? asked Sylvie, and she giggled.

  “A barter, then,” I said aloud, in which case Sinbad looked at me curiously, then went back to the helm. He was getting used to such strange outbursts from me, knowing I was guided by the two nymphs.

  Shortly, the exchange was made, with Sylvie acting as the go-between, and soon I was presented with an elegant bottle of what appeared to be the exact perfume. I unstoppered the bottle and gave it a sniff. Heavenly.

  Jewel will be pleased, said Nylon. Unless, of course, you fail to keep your hands off the new slave.

  The Siren queen has a message for you, Aladdin, said Sylvie.

  And what is that?

  To find the key at all costs.

  I thought you might say that. Does she have a suggestion as to where to begin?

  The key is undoubtedly on its way to its final destination.

  How is this possible? I said, perplexed. Where could the key have gone? We are the only ship out here.

  Look again, my lord.

  I did look, and I saw what she was referring to. The small merchanter, once tethered to the Dutchman, was gone.

  But how?

  A cloaking spell, no doubt.

  Fine, I said, grumbling. And where does the queen suggest we look for the key?

  The Gates of Hades are located in the Hinterland.

  The Hinterland? And where is that?

  It is a forbidden mountain range deep in the heart of the Sahara.

  So be it. I turned to Sinbad. “Plot us a course due west.”

  “Due west?”

  I told him about my conversation with Sylvie Siren, and Sinbad, always on the lookout for a good adventure, grinned broadly. “West it is!”

  He next gave the order and the ghostly crew responded instantly, many appearing as if from thin air, their bodies nearly invisible in the bright sunshine. Sails were hoisted, lines were drawn, and soon the ship was cutting sharply through the water, faster than any other ship.

  Supernaturally fast, I knew.

  Soon the rocky coast of the African continent appeared and Sinbad gave another order and the ship majestically rose out of the sea, and into the blue sky.

  And over the Dark Continent.

  Chapter Four

  It was fine, for a while. I gazed at the mountains and valleys below, lost in the wonder of the landscape. I had not been to the Dark Continent before, and this was a superlative view.

  Duban and his fiancee Myrrh came to join me. Well, technically she was only his girlfriend, as he was thirteen and she twelve and I did not support child marriages, and Duban had not made an official arrangement with her, but she would marry him in due course. She had foreseen it, and she had some future vision along with her telepathy. Regardless, she was a fine and pretty girl, slender, dark-eyed, and with long lustrous black hair. I could not have selected a better match for my son.

  Thank you, Aladdin.

  I almost jumped, while Sylvie and Nylon laughed. Forget she could read your mind? Nylon teased me.

  I was mainly relieved that I hadn’t been thinking anything bad about Myrrh, given that I might as well have been speaking my mind aloud. Not that there was anything bad to think of.

  “Thank you,” Myrrh repeated aloud with the hint of a smile.

  Though sometimes maybe she deserved to be spanked.

  Nu-uh, Nylon thought. You may spank my plush bare bottom when I resume full natural form, but she’s too young for such attention.

  “Not by much,” Myrrh murmured, looking straight ahead.

  Oops. Now it was Nylon’s turn to be embarrassed. Myrrh could read her mind too, and, thanks to her telepathy, was well familiar with the dubious joys of adult interaction.

  “What is much?” Duban asked. He had been left out of this dialogue, fortunately.

  “I was thinking Myrrh is too young to be so pretty,” I said quickly. “She read my mind. But she doesn’t like to be patronized. And she’s right: she is almost a woman.”

  “And I’m still a child?” he asked, annoyed.

  How sensitive could you get? “You are almost a man.”

  “And I don’t like to be patronized either,” he retorted.

  Myrrh took his hand. “Aladdin means well,” she said.

  I could see Duban melting. Myrrh could handle him without even trying.

  “Kings do,” Duban agreed reluctantly. He still had not completely accepted my relationship with his mother, though that was what made him a prince.

  “We came to you for another purpose,” Myrrh said to me. “It’s about Dea.”

  “The slave girl,” I agreed noncommittally, seeing a mental picture of her considerable physical charms. Jewel said I didn’t need another concubine, but really, could a man ever have too many concubines? She would be a tempting addition.

  “She is more than a slave girl,” Duban said. “There is an aura of power about her that I can’t fathom. I distrust that.”

  “And I can’t read her mind,”
Myrrh said. “It is as if there is a patch of fog about her that shrouds her thoughts. I don’t trust that.”

  “We believe you should stay away from her,” Duban said.

  “So does your mother,” I said. “But really, what would be the harm? It isn’t as if a man needs to appreciate a woman’s mind. She’s a sex slave!”

  “She’s dangerous,” Myrrh said. “Until we know more about her, you should remain clear.”

  I sighed. Jewel had a slightly jealous nature, even during her pregnancy, but Duban and Myrrh were genuinely trying to help me. Their warning had to be taken seriously. “I will remain clear,” I said with regret.

  Then we focused on the landscape below the ship. I noticed something new. There was a kind of rough channel through the mountains, many of which were volcanoes, extending from horizon to horizon. It was almost as if the very rock had cracked to form a chasm. Was I imagining a pattern where none existed?

  Some day they will call it the Rift Valley, Nylon thought. Where some nether demon pushed the mountains apart. Those demons are constantly playing their games, showing their power.

  “Oh, thank you,” I said. I would not have credited it, but Nylon had been around the past and the future, and could be right.

  We flew on to a great desert. The Sahara, Nylon thought. Once there were rivers there, but there came a drought.

  It must have been some dry spell! The desert extended as far as I could see.

  Then there came an adverse wind, a hot draft blowing from the desert, trying to push us back the way we came. “We’ll have to tack,” Sinbad called. “Slanting into the wind, back and forth. That will slow progress.”

  I knew about tacking. Winds were capricious, and this was a sailing ship, even if it was airborne at the moment. It was propelled by the wind. “So be it,” I agreed.

  Another person approached us. It was Dea, looking remarkably sexy as the wind hauled at her hair and flattened her clothing against her body. I thought nothing could be more impressive than bare breasts, but somehow her wind-pressed bosom was more so. “Lord Aladdin!” she called. “I fear the wind will blow me away. You must hold me.”