A word of thanks to Darkniciad for taking the time and trouble to correct my English.
*
The air was hot and filled with the familiar smell of baked dust and spices. Laresa knew instantly that she was back in the desert. A quick glance around confirmed she was.
"I'm at your command, Mistress."
"Wait until you're called, girl. Are you a new slave?"
"No, Mistress. I'm a genie. Your genie."
The dark-haired woman laughed; a low throaty sound that matched her royal bearings.
"My genie, no less. Excellent, girl. But you still have to wait until you're called. Now go."
The woman waved a slender hand and Laresa caught the glint of silver bracelets. She opened her mouth, but the woman frowned and pointed to the far side of the area. With a small smile Laresa decided to play along for now.
As she sank down among a few plump cushions, Laresa took in her surroundings. The smell of the place had already given it away, but the dark walls of the tent confirmed she was in the Sahara desert. More precisely, she was sure she was in the Ahaggar Mountains. The cushions, the beautifully crafted lamps and the shape of the tent all pointed towards a Tuareg shelter. For a brief moment she recalled the memories of how she had become a genie. The sacrifice of her body had taken place in these mountains. Although it had happened thousands of years ago, the place still felt oddly familiar. The genie shook her head to get rid of those painful last images. She focused on her new mistress instead.
From her place on the floor, her back against the dark cloth of the tent, the genie studied the woman who was her Mistress. The brilliant blue of her robe set off her dark hair and golden skin. Despite the loose fit Laresa could see the curves of a mature figure. Right now the woman was inspecting Laresa's ring, turning it around between her slender fingers.
"Where did this come from?" Muttering to herself she rubbed the large amber stone. "It was much brighter when I found it."
Suddenly, she turned around to face Laresa.
"What's your name, girl?"
"Laresa, Mistress. I'm at your command."
The startling light eyes narrowed. "What was that, about you being a genie?" The low voice was soft but the air of authority was clear.
Laresa smiled and launched her standard explanation. "I'm the genie of the ring, Mistress. My name is Laresa and I am at your command for as long as you possess my home, unless you break the rules."
"I see ..." With a thoughtful expression the woman slipped the ring on her finger. "And what are those rules?"
"I can heal a person but I cannot bring people back from the dead, I cannot make another person fall in love with you, I'm not permitted to dramatically alter history, and if you lie to me you lose me instantly."
An attractive smile transformed the rather stern face. The lush lips curved and a dimple appeared in one cheek. "That sounds like a proper genie, all right. My name is Hanan, Laresa."
Hanan took a few steps and sank down in front of Laresa, folding her legs beneath her in a practiced movement. "I guess I found you because I have need of you. I never saw the ring before and I should know the contents of my jewelry box." She smiled a bit sadly. "There hasn't been an addition for years. Not since my husband passed away."
"Mistress, will you permit me to read your thoughts?" Laresa hastened to clarify when she saw the cold frown return. "You wouldn't need to explain everything; I could read your meaning."
"And what if you decided to take over my thoughts? You could rule my mind." The light eyes fixed Laresa with a stare that would intimidate most people.
"I can't do that, Mistress. I can only obey you."
"Very well. You have my permission." The cold stare softened but remained trained on the slender, silver-haired genie. "Go on, read my mind, then."
Laresa felt the sadness and understood it had been dimmed by time. She pushed it gently aside and found that Hanan's mind was filled with intricate schemes. She was fascinated. This was no simple Tuareg wife. Hanan had been first wife to the Amenokal, the tribal leader. The genie felt sorry for this proud woman. After the death of her husband, she had been forced back into the traditional role of mother.
"You are concerned for your son?" When Hanan nodded, the genie continued. "I sense your anger at your husband's brother. He is Yusuf?"
"Yesss." Hanan hissed in anger. "He's a traitor. He should have yielded the power to rule years ago, when my son turned 16. He's refused to step down as Amenokal, and most of the herdsmen are scared of him -- and his bunch of brutes."
"Are you sure all the other warriors are on his side?"
Laresa smiled when she saw the color rise in the proud face in front of her. The bond between her and Hanan enabled her to see the image that quickly flashed by in answer to her question.
"This Khalid I see in your thoughts, he can be trusted?"
"I'm not sure." Hanan bowed her head and fingered the bunch of silver bracelets that adorned her wrist. "He was my husband's first advisor... he..." She heaved a sigh. "I just don't know. Besides... we are talking about proud warriors, they would never listen to me."
"I can see you've given this a lot of thought. Your mind is filled with ideas and I think we can do something with them."
Laresa realized she was getting close to acting of her own accord, but she was feeling an odd sympathy for Hanan. Perhaps because she hadn't started wishing anything, maybe because she stirred old feelings of loyalty to family and clan, whatever the reason, the genie felt compelled to help Hanan as much as possible.
"Can others see you as well as I can?" Hanan inspected the scantily clad genie.
"Only if you wish it to be so, Mistress." Laresa smiled when she caught the spark of uncertainty from the older woman.
"I see, perhaps it's best to remain unseen then. Now, about ideas. Will you help me to get my son to take his proper place among his people? Yusuf sent him away when he was nearing his 16th birthday and Hakim has been reluctant to spill blood." Hanan sighed. "He feels his own position is not worth the lives of others, so ever since he came back he's been keeping himself aloof."
"You named him well; Hakim sounds wise beyond his years." Laresa tapped a fingernail against her teeth while thinking. "The best course would be to get your son in a position to prove his worth over his uncle. The less blood shed the better."
Laresa sifted through the images in Hanan's mind and had to suppress a giggle when she found a naughty corner dealing with Khalid. The main source of income for the tribe gave her the best idea however.
"Yusuf has been organizing the caravans?"
Hanan made a derisive sound. "It's supposed to be the chief concern of the Amenokal. Keeping the caravans moving, providing guidance for traders and watching out for the safety of all, that's what the tribe has the Amenokal for. Rumor has it though, that Yusuf has been busier in Tamanghasset visiting the belly dancers than going to the coffeehouses to meet with traders."
"There have been raids before, right? So ... how about your son preventing a massive raid on the next caravan? I could make sure all warriors would know about a dispute between him and his uncle concerning the safety of the train." When Hanan nodded with interest, the genie warned her. "I would have to make it look genuine, which means there will be blood spilled. I can only promise you to look out for Hakim. I cannot prevent his death if it is his time."
Hanan had a fierce look of determination on her face. "I understand. Better to die as a man than to live as a coward. Insha'Allah."
"Now, you have to find out when the next council will take place. Maybe you could ask Khalid?" Laresa giggled when Hanan blushed at the mention of that name. "That way you can find out how far you can trust him as well. I can tell he's important to you."
Hanan shrugged. "Who'd want a widow in her middle years? I'm too old to bear sons."
"If you'll allow me to stay with you when you seek him out, I could see for myself. Sometimes the view from farther away is clearer than from close by. Besides, once your son has taken over, you should get the chance to some happiness again. You're not that old yet."
The genie felt genuine sympathy for the woman. She wondered, not for the first time, if she was getting more of her humanity back over centuries. She understood ever more about the emotions and motives of humans. Like this Hanan. She could relate to her worries as a mother, just as she could understand her secret wish to be loved and cherished once more.
When Hanan spoke with the warrior, Laresa observed him unseen. The traditional blue veil, the tagelmust that gives Tuaregs their nickname of
blue men of the desert
, covered his face. His sharp eyes were visible though, and he stood proud. His broad shoulders and powerful legs proclaimed him a strong man. The genie smiled as she caught his glance after Hanan turned away. Perhaps he was in his middle years like Hanan, but his interest was certainly not that of an old man. There was fire in his eyes, and Laresa thought she could almost feel the heat of his passion.