This is actually a PJ Wright story. He offered it to me as though it were of little importance, but it is entirely too beautiful not to share.



The Bashir's Three Wishes
(from "The Tales of Karamesh")



Then, when the dancers had retired to their places he clapped his hands. Bound in her gilded chains, Saleem came and knelt in her accustomed place before him and bowed her head, awaiting his pleasure. He reclined on his silken pillow and said, "Tonight, tell me a tale of magic and mystery."

Saleem nodded and began thus:

Once, in long years past, there was a noble young soldier, a Bashir in the service of his Sultan. This was at the time of the wars with the Dolom Heretics. The Bashir, whose name was Mamoud, had been sent to lead his company against the citadel of Dolom and for long, lonely months he had been separated from his new bride. (Her name was Sarawai. She was of the Annatti and therefore a sorceress of no little renown and power.) Now, with the surrender of Dolom and the ending of the wars, Mamoud was journeying back to Q'oum.

One night, while he was still several hundred leagues from his home, he camped beside the shore of the sea. After spreading his blanket, he lit a small fire for warmth and to heat his evening meal.

As he lay beside the fire, the twinkle of fire light on metal caught his eye. Going to investigate, he found a small, plainly crafted bottle lying half-buried in the sand at the water's edge. Thinking little of it, he decided to keep the bottle as a possibly useful thing. But when he unstopped it, immediately there issued forth a thick, dark smoke.

Mamoud dropped the bottle and jumped back, drawing the long curved scimitar that always hung at his side.

The smoke coalesced into the form of a beautiful young woman. Her hair was the color of cinnamon and hung in flowing waves to her slender waist. Eyes the color of jade, cast in likeness of the most mysterious of cat's, held him in their sway. Her garb was like that of a courtesan of the har'eem, yet her haughty demeanor belied that humble station. About her wrists and upper arms there were finely wrought bands of gold inlaid with silver and precious stones.

When she spoke, her voice was deep for womankind, yet utterly feminine. "Put away your sword Mamoud, Mamhomet's son. I intend you no harm, nor would your blade avail you if I did."

Seeing that this was a spirit of great power, Mamoud sheathed his sword. Then, with steady voice (for Mamoud had true courage and feared not,) he said, "Now, by the Prophet I charge thee answer truly. What is thy name? What manner of creature are thee and what is thy intent?"

She smiled and said "As my true name is a hidden thing and may not be spoken, you may call me . . . Tsi'moon, for that suits me. As to my nature, why Mamoud, have you not yet guessed that I am of the race of D'Jinn? And finally, as to my purpose: Long ages past an evil wizard imprisoned me within that bottle, as I would not bend to his wishes. He cast me into the sea, believing that I would never be found and released to trouble his counsel. If not for thy intervention it would surely have been so. But now am I free, and my revenge is nigh. Yet, before I depart to repay the treachery done me, I would show my gratitude for your kindness in releasing me. Therefore ask of me three wishes. If your requests please me, I shall grant them."

Then did Mamoud stroke his beard and contemplate Tsi'moon's words. After a bit he said. "You generosity exceeds my simple act, and most truly do I thank you. However, I would ask you to tarry a bit longer. Give me the night to consider. In the morning, I shall name my boon."

Tsi'moon nodded. "So be it Mamoud. Sleep, and weigh carefully your choice. I shall come to you before the sun is risen and then you shall name your reward."

Then she vanished and Mamoud lay upon his blanket beside the sea and thought long 'ere he slept.

Now, when he awoke it was in that hour between deep night and the brightening of dawn, when all the world is stillness. He was lying upon rich, soft pillows in a sumptuous pavilion beside the sea, though how he came to be there, he could not say.

Soon, veiled servants brought him wine and fruit to break his fast. And when he had eaten and drunk his fill, then did Tsi'moon again appear and stand before him.

"Behold Mamoud, daybreak is at hand. I would be off on my errand. Are you now ready to name your reward for my liberty?"

And he said, "I am."

But before he could speak, Tsi'moon folded her arms and smiled. "Shall I guess thy heart's desire Mamoud? I wager thy first wish shall be for wealth, for such abundance of treasure that even the most jaded sultan in his palace shall envy thee, and pull his beard in thy despite."

Mamoud shook his head. "Then would you lose your wager, oh most noble Tsi'moon, for I desire not riches untold. As I have observed men, I have found that wealth is like a drug. The having of it never brings satiety, but rather only spawns more desire. Truly, though a man possess all the wealth of the world, yet he can not buy the world, and wealth piled is but a reminder of its insufficiency. No, Tsi'moon. My Sultan's hire is sufficient for all my need. I desire no more."

Then did Tsi'moon unfold her arms and smile a mischievous smile. "Ah! I know your kind Mamhomet's son; Mamoud! Strong in arms and perilous in battle, do I not rightly guess your greatest desire is the thirst for renown? Shall I not order it so the whole world goes here and there with your name upon their lips? Shall they not raise high monuments and likeness of thee such that your fame shall last a thousand years?"

But Mamoud again shook his head. "Though my fame last a thousand thousand years, what shall it profit me in the end? Renown begets pride. And is not pride but the vice of vanity in a pleasing mask? Allah has decreed that there shall be but one Name that shall endure through the ages, and that name shall be upon every man's lips and no other. No Tsi'moon, again you miss your guess."

Then did Tsi'moon kneel before him and gaze deeply into his eyes. "Then here do I finally hit my mark when I guess that you wish for all the wisdom of the ages, Mamoud of Q'oum. You shall be as a font of learning and all things, revealed and hidden shall be known to thee and the world shall sit at thy feet for learning."

And Mamoud was silent for a long time. Then he stroked his beard and nodded. "Here indeed to you strike closest to the quick oh Tsi'moon the Munificent. Wisdom is a great jewel and men do well to seek it in all things. And there is the reason why the gift of all wisdom is not my request of thee. For is it not so that a man grows in the struggle for learning? Should I poses all the lore of all the ages, how should I be different from the parchment that holds the record of these things, had I not the strength gained in their attainment?"

Then she shook her head, her smile now rueful. "Truly, Mamoud the Wise, you have confounded me utterly. I know not your heart, nor can I guess it. But lo, daybreak is at hand and I would be gone. Name your reward. For so surely have you beguiled me in guessing its nature, I shall willingly grant it if only to hear it named."

Mamoud gazed into her green eyes and said, "Then these are my wishes three, Tsi'moon whose true name is a hidden thing: First, I wish for that treasure that surpasses all others; a son and heir to carry on my lineage. A strong lad, fit in mind and body that I may raise well in the service of his lord and devotion to Allah. Second, I wish for the renown and praise of a loving wife. A woman of wit and honor of her own such that her favor and love shall be the more noteworthy before all of the world. And finally, third, I ask for the wisdom to be both loving husband and honored father, that this praise and love might be truly earned."

Then did Tsi'moon stand and gaze down upon Mamoud, and her features were soft, and her eyes were bright there in the growing light of dawn. "These requests please me most deeply, Mamoud, husband of Sarawai, father of Jah'hal, and I grant them full-willing." Then she clapped her hands and the false image of Tsi'moon shimmered like moonlight on a rippling pond and vanished, revealing to Mamoud the true form of his wife Sarawai. Then did she lay beside him and rest her head against his chest upon which fell her tears of joy. She summoned her servants who brought to Mamoud his infant son whom he had never yet seen. And Mamoud took his son into his arms, and in his loving wife's embrace did the three watch the sun rise in fire from the sea.