by Tom Morris
kind hearted when not annoyed and a sucker for a pretty face – but that’s another story). “Well, since you’re family, as it were” he said, I might be able to do something. Tell me your problem and let's see what can be done.”
Azart poured out his tale of woe. "And he wants it by tomorrow,” he concluded, “or else my life is forfeit, no doubt in a most ingenious and painful way.”
“That’s awful,” the Genie said sympathetically. I don’t see any great problem there. I can get things you want in the twinkling of an eye as it were,” and he winked at Jasmine,” if not sooner.” And with that there was just the slightest shimmering of the air, a sense of rushing wind and a blurring of the Genies outline and he was holding in his hands a branch covered with pale green leaves and a jug of water and at his feet was a large wooden pail brimming with snow.
Azart and Jasmine were beside themselves with delight. “A thousand, thousand thanks O mighty Djinn!” Azart gasped. “You have saved me from a fate that was probably going to be a lot worse than death. How can I repay you?”
“No problem,” replied the genie, “It’s very boring stuck in the lamp all the time. Things were quite interesting in your grandfather’s day, you know. A little exercise has been good for me. It’s been a pleasure and if you need me again, please don’t hesitate to summon me.” And so saying he shimmered into a cloud of smoke and poured himself back down the spout of the lamp.
The next morning the Audience Chamber was thronged. Word of Azart’s plight had spread and many had come to enjoy the spectacle. Azart stood, conspicuously alone, at the foot of the steps leading up to the vacant throne. The buzz of conversation died as a gong announced the immanent arrival of Maledict; the courtiers and assorted flunkeys flattened themselves to the floor in the approved style of grovel. The Emperor and Fatima, the Empress, made their entrance through the heavily embroidered drapes behind the throne and seated themselves. At a signal, the audience struggled back to their feet. Fatima, never one to miss the opportunity of ensuring that malice could be enjoyed whispered in the Emperor’s ear.
Maladict smiled benignly at Azart. “My dear Vizier,” he smirked, “I do believe that there is a little something missing this morning! It had been my understanding that you were to prepare a light refreshment, was it not?”
Azart bowed. “You are of course, as always, correct, your Magnificence.” He clapped his hands and a small page boy emerged from behind the drapes carrying a large gold goblet, frosted with condensation. “As your Divine Effulgence commanded, an infusion of the Quinct bush leaves in spring water from the head of the River Ashjard and cooled with snow, collected as it fell, in the Mountains of Solitude.”
A supressed gasp of in drawn breath could be faintly heard from the assembled crowd. Maladict struggled to maintain his composure. Fatima looked as though, having sunk her teeth into a juicy pomegranate, she had found a maggot lurking within.
“Made from genuine Quinct leaves?” Maladict snarled.
“Of course your Imperial Majesty,” Azart replied, “Certified by the palace aborealist”.
“I find it most difficult to comprehend how you managed to achieve the matter so promptly,” Maladict said, “given that the captain of the guard assures me that you remained here in the palace all night.”
“This is so replied Azart.” (At which the aforementioned captain, who had been contemplating his immanent demise on the grounds of incompetence and Maladict’s certain determination to find someone to blame, regained control of his bladder). In fact I used a specially trained eagle which is capable of carrying out quite complex commands such as collecting the leaves and gathering water and snow in vessels hung around its neck.”
Maladict was (for once) rendered speechless. Fatima, who despite her vicious and perverse nature, was no fool, again whispered in the royal ear.
A smile quivered on the imperial lips. “How extremely interesting,” he said, his voice dripping with venom. “Please produce this incredible bird without further delay, so that we might all enjoy this wonder.”
“Alas,” Azart replied, “I can only humbly beg you Gloriousness's indulgence. It returned so cold from its endeavours that it attempted to warm itself by perching on the mantle place over the fire but was overcome by exhaustion and falling down was utterly consumed in the flames.”
Maladict chewed his bottom lip, somewhat taken aback by a strong suspicion that he was being taken for a ride. The Empress, who was renowned for quick thinking, again whispered in his ear. Maladict smiled and it was not a smile that promised future wellbeing for its recipient. "Well done," he said. "Well done in deed. We are so impressed with your ingenuity that we shall call upon you for a further demonstration. For breakfast tomorrow please arrange for a dish of broiled Saswami fish."
Azart suppressed a shudder. "No doubt your Radiant Effulgence refers to the Saswami fish which are only to be found in the Lake of Drowned Souls, far to the west in the Desert of the Doomed, which is surrounded by an almost impenetrable growth of poisonous thorn bushes and infested by voracious crocodiles?"
The Emperor smiled again. "The very same," he agreed. "But I am sure that a man of your immense sagacity will have little difficulty in procuring some."
Azart, struggling to retain his composure, bowed low. "To hear is to obey," he said. "Rest assured I will make all necessary arrangements." And to the suppressed sniggers of the courtiers he made a dignified exit.
Once again he retreated to his apartments to acquaint his wife of the new task. "The swine wants me to perform yet another impossibility," he said. "He wants some fish from some deity-forsaken lake in the middle of nowhere for his breakfast tomorrow."
"Have courage beloved," replied Jasmine. "You must summon the Genie and explain. I am sure he will not mind helping you again."
"You are right," agreed Azart. And without further ado he brought out the lamp and gave it a few brisk rubs. Again the Genie appeared.
"So soon?" he asked.
"I greatly regret that it is so," Azart replied. "I have been set a further errand by his Imperial Vindictiveness. He requires Saswami fish for breakfast tomorrow."
The Genie chortled. "Lake of Drowned Souls? Desert of the Damned? Thorn bushes and crocodiles?"
"Exactly," agreed Azart.
"Not a problem. In fact I could quite look forward to a relaxing day's fishing," replied the Genie.
"But the crocodiles and the thorn bushes?" asked Azart.
"Please don't be concerned," said the Genie, we Djinn are impervious to poison and I will try not to damage the crocodiles too much."
Azart spent the remainder of the day nervously chewing his fingers and pondering his fate, then, just before teatime the Genie reappeared in his usual puff of smoke, looking very pleased with himself, four large fish dangling from his hand. "What an enjoyable day," he said. "I haven't had so much fun for a very long time."
Azart let out a sigh of relief. "A thousand blessings upon you, I shall be forever in your debt."
The Genie waved his hands in dismissal. "It's really nothing," he said. "Think no more of it. He turned to Jasmine. "Just to while away the time while I was waiting for a bite I made this for you!" and from beneath his robe he produced a crocodile handbag.
Jasmine was overcome with delight and on impulse gave him a kiss on his cheek. The Genie blushed and disappeared back into the lamp.
The next morning dawned. The imperial audience chamber was crammed with courtiers, royal flunkeys and assorted hangers-on all agog to see the outcome. With the usual fanfare of trumpets Maladict and the Empress entered and settled themselves on their thrones. Azart moved forward, bowed low and offered up a tray holding a large silver serving dish. A slight frown crossed Maladict's face. "Well my dear Vizier," he asked, "what do you have there?"
With a flourish Azart removed the lid from the dish. "As you requested your Excellency, Saswami fish, freshly caught last night from the Lake of
Drowned Souls."
"Rubbish", shouted the Emperor. "How do I know that these are genuine and not an attempt to fob me off with some substitute bought at the local fish market?"
"Your Magnificence does me an injustice," Azart replied, greatly daring. "To ensure that there was no misunderstanding I had them authenticated by the Imperial Keeper of the Royal Beastiary before they were cooked." And be beckoned the trembling official to come and stand before the Throne.
"Is this so?" snarled the Emperor, staring hard at the luckless man, who appeared to be on the verge of fainting.
"Indeed it is your Imperial Majesty" the wretch quavered. I checked and rechecked them against the illustrations contained in The Angler's Guide To Rare Species which we have here in your Magnificence's library. There can be no doubt."
"So be it," Maladict snarled, "you may go." and he gave the wretch a look that indicated that he might well be enjoying the comfort of one of the place dungeons in pretty short shrift. He bestowed a baleful smile upon Azart. "You are to be congratulated on your amazing competence. Pray tell us, how did you manage to accomplish such a demanding task. Another trained eagle perhaps?"
"Alas no," Azart replied. Due to the great distance involved and the weight of the fish, I determined to undertake this in person, to which effect I employed a small, one man, hot air balloon,
