Doctor Who: The Legends of Ashildr Read online

  ‘Alas my lord,’ she told him. ‘I fear it would do you no good. I think only I am safe to hold the stone – you are still too weak, in any case, from the curse that poisons this land.’

  Sindbad agreed, and nodded, and decided to bide his time.

  When he was strong enough they made their way to the shore to await rescue.

  Sindbad became excited – on the horizon he could see a great iron galleon sailing towards them at great speed. He saw and he marvelled. ‘We are rescued, and we may return home to Baghdad,’ he cried, waving at the galleon.

  But Ash held his arm and shook her head. ‘That galleon sails too quickly for a normal ship,’ she told him. ‘Remember the warning of the Dervish – I do not trust that ship. I fear its captain knows already that I have the amethyst fashioned into an amulet and he seeks to take it from me.’

  ‘But what can we do?’

  Ash took him then to the other side of the island, and there they cut down wood. She held up the amulet and entreated with the spiders. As they had once been sailors, and because they feared the amethyst, they rushed to help her, weaving together the tree trunks into a raft with their webs, and fashioning a sail.

  ‘If we launch from this side of the island,’ said Ash, ‘we may be able to escape before that iron galleon knows we have left.’

  And so they set out for their voyage home.

  As they rode off onto the choppy and uncertain waters, a voice echoed over the seas to them. It cried in tones of utter blackness: ‘I am the Wizard of Marabia, the last true ruler of the Nile and I must have the amulet. Bring it to me.’

  Storms took them away from the voice, and on into greater dangers.

  And so ended the last voyage of Sindbad, as told by the Lady Sherade.

  THE VIZIER AND THE MAGICIAN

  Delighted by what he had heard, the Mighty King let Sherade live to tell another story. ‘My lord,’ she began, ‘Sindbad and his servant Ash escaped from the mysterious Iron Galleon of the Mighty Wizard of Marabia…’

  Their boat of twigs and spider’s web brought them through a storm, but after that they feared greatly for their lives, and Sindbad fell into great lamentations as the web started to snap and the boat began to sink. Just when he feared all was lost, a passing merchant ship came onto the horizon and rescued them.

  The master of the vessel offered them easy hospitality and to bring them back to Baghdad. ‘My honoured guests,’ he ventured, ‘would you care to inspect the cargo? For there are some barrels I found floating in the sea that puzzle me.’

  Sindbad saw and was delighted. ‘Why,’ he exclaimed, ‘this is the cargo from my wrecked ship. I am not ruined after all!’ He was quickly able to identify the cargo, and all aboard declared him a lucky man. Especially the servant Ash El Dir.

  ‘That’s unusual,’ she said, eyeing her lord suspiciously.

  Sindbad seemed untroubled. ‘It is always happening to me,’ he informed her. ‘It is the kind of luck I have.’

  Sindbad’s miraculous return to Baghdad was greeted with joy and surprise by the merchants of the port, but the famous sailor hurried home to his garden which smelt of aloes and sandalwood. ‘I am done with voyaging,’ he declared. ‘I shall cook us a feast.’

  ‘No, let me, my lord,’ insisted Ash. ‘You are still weak from your sufferings on the cursed island.’

  ‘And yet,’ Sindbad tossed a handful of cargo into the air, ‘I am feeling much better.’

  ‘Perhaps it is the amulet,’ Ash ventured. ‘It is regrowing your vitals, like a sapling in a new season.’

  ‘Oh, how lucky!’ cried Sindbad. ‘This amulet shall keep me alive all the days that are sent by God. The Destroyer of Delights shall never visit my door.’

  Ash chuckled at his good humour. ‘I pray not, my lord,’ she told him. ‘For ever is not to be lived but endured. It is not for simple men.’

  ‘Nor servant girls either,’ laughed Sindbad, his eyes quick to follow the amulet around her neck.

  No sooner had Ash brought out many fine dishes for the sailor to enjoy than there was a knock at the door. ‘It is late,’ said Ash. ‘Are you expecting anyone, my lord?’ She called through the door: ‘In the name of my master, who is there?’

  ‘We are but three simple travelling merchants who seek to touch the hem of Sindbad the Sailor, whom we have heard has lately returned safe.’

  ‘Oh Lord of Damnations,’ lamented Sindbad. ‘It is the Caliph.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Everyone knows that the Caliph Haroun al-Raschid, his Vizier Jafar and his Executioner go out at night in disguise,’ hissed Sindbad. ‘They will keep us up all night eating all this food – go, let them in, and don’t, oh don’t let on that you know their disguise.’

  Ash unbolted the door and made formal greetings to the three merchants, offering them hospitality and refreshment.

  ‘Why thank you,’ nodded the Caliph. ‘It is most kind of you. We are simple humble travelling merchants and we seek but a glass to wash the dust from our throats and a morsel of bread. I say, are those honeyed fowl?’ And with that, he and his companions fell to, and Ash was kept busy running back and forth from the kitchens producing every kind of sweetmeat and sherbet that the Caliph could imagine.

  Eventually he patted his stomach and professed himself delighted. ‘Now, my dear, dear Sindbad. Even such humble travelling merchants as myself have heard of the stories of your voyage. Is it true you have endured another? We must be the first to hear it!’

  And so Sindbad related the story of his last voyage. Ash stood by, filling the glasses, and noticing that, perhaps, her role in matters was somewhat reduced in the telling. Sindbad finished by explaining to the Caliph how he had put out the eyes of the giant spiders, escaped from the stone soldiers, and outsailed the mighty ship of iron.

  ‘All to bring home an amulet?’ The Caliph sighed with delight. ‘Why such a jewel is a rich gift indeed. May I see it?’

  At Sindbad’s command, Ash brought forward the amethyst, and the Caliph marvelled at it.

  ‘Truly, it is a unique stone, is it not?’ he said, passing it to his Vizier and the Royal Executioner.

  Both agreed that it was.

  The Caliph rocked back on his heels considering. ‘Funnily enough, I have heard that the Caliph’s son, the handsome Prince Karim, is about to celebrate his birthday, and his father has searched high and low for a gift that would please him. I’m sure he would see it as a great favour if you were to suddenly decide to have your slave girl take it to Prince Karim.’

  Ash stared at the Caliph with full alarm, and Sindbad made a face of dolorous misery.

  ‘This is no ordinary amulet…’ began Sindbad.

  ‘I can see that. Stand closer, so that you may view its marvels,’ clapped the Caliph, motioning for the Executioner to stand behind Sindbad.

  Sindbad hastily instructed the girl to take the amethyst to the palace.

  ‘We’ll look after your master until you come back,’ commanded the Caliph. He nodded again to the Executioner, who moved even closer to Sindbad. ‘When you come back, you will find that no harm has come to him.’

  So, sick of heart and furious of face, Ash took her leave of the Caliph and headed to the Palace…

  ‘This is all very well!’ laughed the Mighty King as Sherade paused in her tale. ‘But what of the Wizard of Marabia?’

  ‘I was coming to that,’ said the Lady.

  ‘And also, what of Prince Karim and the cunning servant girl, Ash El Dir? Are you to tell me of love? For there must always be love. I command you to tell me of the true love between man and woman or die.’

  ‘To hear is to obey, my husband,’ said the Lady Sherade.

  THE PATH OF LOVE

  ‘So, sick of heart and furious of face, Ash El Dir took her leave of the Caliph and headed to the Palace…’ continued the Lady Sherade.

  Her heart beat furiously. She finally had the amethyst that she sought, the strange amulet glowing brightly in her pocket. She could
escape, she could simply run away and leave Sindbad to his fate. So much for him. And yet there was within her that which liked to win.

  Entrance to the palace was easy, for the Caliph had sent word ahead that she was coming with a gift for his son. Soon she found herself in the magnificent tower where the Prince spent his days in drinking and feasting, when he was not out hunting drugged animals or attacking straw dummies with scimitars.

  Prince Karim stood on a balcony with his back to her, playing a musical lament of such beauty that Ash paused and stood in amazement. He sang in a beautiful voice that was heartbreaking to hear, lamenting the sadness that the caged nightingale feels. The words of the song hung in the air like tears of crystal falling sadly into night.

  The song finished and eventually he spoke, his back still to her. ‘You did well not to interrupt me,’ he said. ‘I should have had you killed, and have thought no more about it. That is something to be sad about.’ He turned, and they saw each other for the first time.

  Prince Karim was handsome, as fine-featured and graceful as a stallion. Up until that moment he had merely known that something was missing in his life. But he saw the serving girl Ash El Dir and knew what it was that had been missing.

  ‘You have brought me another birthday present?’ he continued with a yawn, giving away no clue of his immense passion for her.

  ‘Indeed, my lord,’ said Ash, hoping that he would stop staring at her. ‘It is a most rare treasure from the famous sailor Sindbad. I give it to you.’ She produced the amulet of amethyst, and he marvelled at it.

  ‘I have been sent so many presents by my father,’ the Prince said, marvelling at the stone. ‘Elephants and slaves, a coffin that no one can open, an ancient temple complete with priests, and an entire citadel that I shall never visit.’

  ‘Then this stone cannot compete. If it does not please you, I shall return it.’

  ‘On the contrary,’ laughed the Prince, ‘it pleases me. All the more because you bring it to me.’

  Ash was confounded then, and, meaning to curse her misfortune, laughed.

  The Prince laughed as well, and for a while no words passed between them.

  ‘Look down from my balcony,’ he said. ‘For beyond us is the entire majesty of Baghdad, stretching out like the world. It is never quiet, some corner of it always surprises, and yet, wherever you hide, my father owns you. I stand and I look and I find it as beautiful as it is frightening.’

  Ash stood by his side and, for a moment, forgot entirely about how she might win back the amethyst. ‘The rarest of jewels is yours, my prince,’ she said.

  ‘Indeed, it is not,’ said a voice. ‘For it belongs to me.’

  Standing in the air before them was the Wizard of Marabia, guardian of Egypt and the true ruler of the Nile. He was born aloft by knights of metal, carrying him onto the balcony before them as daintily as if he were a feather. Truly these were not just knights but also mighty Djinn.

  Ash had never seen the Wizard of Marabia before, but she marvelled at his appearance. He was as tall as a lie, his eyes blazing. His face was hidden under his cowl, yet it was more that of a snarling beast than a creature of God.

  ‘I am the Wizard of Marabia, and I have come for the amulet that this girl took from me.’

  Prince Karim nodded. ‘I accept your claim, of course, great wizard,’ he said. ‘But for one single point. The amulet is now the property of the mighty Caliph Haroun al-Raschid, and he has gifted it to me. Once something belongs to the Caliph, it is his for ever, and so I must, regretfully, deny it to you.’

  Ash went to stand by the Prince’s side.

  He smiled at her. ‘I shall protect you,’ he told her.

  She smiled back at him. ‘It is I who shall protect you,’ she said.

  The Wizard of Marabia informed them he did not have time to dispute title, and instead ordered his mighty iron soldiers to kill them. Prince Karim discovered that it is one thing to shoot a frowsy peacock, another to injure a knight of iron. Instead it was the quick thinking and fast movements of Ash that protected them – once he swore he saw her pierced through by a blade, and yet she remained standing, beating back scimitars with candlesticks.

  The Wizard stood watching the fight and laughing.

  ‘I have guards, I have guards,’ protested Prince Karim, ‘and yet they do not come.’

  ‘Maybe I have enchanted them asleep, maybe they do not like you,’ proclaimed the Wizard. ‘All that is between you and death is a girl. You should weep at that.’

  ‘I do not weep,’ the Prince told the Wizard. ‘Instead I am both proud and grateful.’

  ‘Yield, and you both shall live. I simply require the return of my amulet. I have hunted for it over the oceans far and wide ever since it was lost. It was only when this girl found it that I was able to locate it – she had a chance then to return it to me, and you are only in danger now because she disobeyed.’

  ‘I am rather glad that she did,’ the Prince told the Wizard. ‘Otherwise I should not have met her.’

  Ash had fought with the passion of an army, but her strength was finally waning. She turned to the Prince. ‘My lord,’ she said, ‘would you like an adventure?’

  ‘I am having an adventure.’

  ‘Would you like more of an adventure?’

  ‘Certainly.’

  ‘Then, when I give the word, fetch that carpet from the wall.’ Ash devoted herself to one of the metal knights, driving it back against the balcony wall. She drove her candlestick towards its face and the knight cried out, losing its balance and beginning to fall over the wall. As it toppled, she motioned to the Prince, and he threw the carpet over the metal knight. Both hung in the night sky. Ash jumped onto the carpet, and the Prince leapt up behind her.

  ‘You have enchanted this carpet as much as me!’ the Prince laughed as they slid away, over the palace, the domes and minarets and the waving roofs of the souk. ‘Farewell, Wizard!’

  Behind them the Wizard of Marabia raged – he would have pursued, but none of his soldiers was still standing. He cried after the two in tones of utter blackness. ‘I am the Wizard of Marabia, the last true ruler of the Nile and I must have the amulet. Bring it to me.’

  Instead, laughing, the two lovers flew off into the night.

  And so paused the telling of the Lady Sherade.

  THE LOST PRINCE

  Delighted by what he had heard, the Mighty King let Sherade live to tell another story. ‘My lord,’ she began, ‘the clever servant girl Ash and Prince Karim had escaped from the mysterious Wizard of Marabia on a flying carpet…’

  Ash El Dir and the Prince flew on, over cities and deserts, land and sea, until they came to a distant land. There they came to ground because the metal Djinn could fly no more. It lay under the carpet, no more than a heap of silver bones.

  ‘I have never seen the like of it before,’ said Prince Karim, but Ash was puzzled. She had seen the remains of such a creature in the crater on the cursed isle. Could it be that the amulet had really belonged once to the mysterious Wizard of Marabia?

  ‘He seeks us still,’ she told Prince Karim.

  ‘As does my father,’ Prince Karim laughed, kicking up the dust of the strange land. ‘I wonder which of them I fear most? And yet here I am, with you on an adventure.’

  ‘An adventure?’ Ash looked dubiously around the desert.

  ‘Why, yes.’ Prince Karim smiled again. ‘You’ve sailed with Sindbad, you’ve fought the Wizard of Marabia, you’ve plundered treasuries. More of that sort of thing.’

  ‘To hear is to obey,’ said Ash to the Prince. ‘Did you bring any money with you?’

  ‘No,’ the Prince admitted. ‘I did not think of that.’

  ‘Then the next bit is going to be rather interesting for you.’

  After a long walk and much careful endeavour, they managed to find humble lodgings in a small hovel. It was at the edge of a small town. There, Ash El Dir devoted herself to weaving intricate patterns of fabulous design which Kari
m was to sell in the market. Their lives were simple but happy. So much for them.

  Meanwhile, the Wizard of Marabia sought for them high and low, in all the lands which the sky covered. He commanded great wealth and was able to buy his way into the minds of many, who swept across the deserts in a tide, looking for them.

  At the same time, the Caliph of Baghdad was plunged into great lamentation at the loss of his favourite son.

  ‘He has been stolen from you by a wicked Christian sorceress,’ the Wizard informed the Caliph.

  On hearing this, the Caliph ordered Sindbad dragged up from the deepest and darkest of the palace’s many dungeons. ‘Let a box be built for him at the gate of the principal mosque, and let the windows of the box be always open. There he shall sit, in the roughest garments, and order every Mussulman who passes into the mosque to spit in his face in passing. For so shall be punished those who conspire with infidel sorcerers.’

  The Vizier saw that it was done, but Sindbad bore his punishment with such dignity that it was not long before he had won the sympathy of those that were best in the crowd. So much for him.

  Meanwhile, in the distant land, Ash El Dir had guessed that the Wizard would be searching for them, and gave the following instructions to Prince Karim: ‘Go out every day and sell my cloth on the markets. You may keep some of the money, but you must never use it to get drunk. Never boast about who you are, or how these fabrics are really woven. And never ever bring anyone back here, no matter how great a friend they are.’

  ‘To hear is to obey,’ Prince Karim smiled, and went off to the market.

  For a long time he kept his word. In truth, he was happier than he could ever remember being in his life. The clever servant girl Ash was not just quick of hand and bright of looks, but she also entertained him truly. He, who had never needed a skill, discovered he was an honest and nimble salesman, and soon his fabrics were in high demand in the market, and he was selling whatever Ash could weave within a bare hour of arriving. This left him with time on his hands, and time is as great an enemy as it is a friend to man.