William the Conquerer and the Sands of Persia: Chapter 12 - The Rough Part of Hamedan

William felt nervous as they slinked down the narrow streets of Hamedan’s poorer section. There was very little light and the shadows were deep. An assailant could leap out easily and surprise his prey. 

Ali-Baba poked his head into taverns, asking after a man named Hassan the Builder. Patrons shook their heads or looked away. It was clear that some of them knew of Hassan the Builder, but feared sharing information about him.

“I fear that Al-Horrid’s men have been looking for Hassan the Builder, too. In this establishment, I know the owner quite well; perhaps he can help us.”

They entered a crowded tavern and found a table next to a group of ne’er do wells. Everyone was on guard because many eyes had followed them as they walked in. Ali-Baba crossed to talk to a broad shouldered man in a bright yellow turban, who gave him a smile of recognition when their eyes met.   

He struck up a conversation with the owner as a serving boy brought wine for the table. They drank sparingly, not wanting to impede their judgment or skill with a sword. 

After a few moments, the owner beckoned to a man sitting alone at a table. The man rose unsteadily and followed the owner and Ali Baba outside. The group at the table rose as one and followed at a distance, so as not to draw attention to themselves. The owner sent this new man with Ali Baba. They went  around a corner and down an alleyway, until the man pointed to a staircase leading down to a basement. Ali-Baba thanked him, as the man headed back to the tavern, and signaled for the others to wait while he went to the basement door. 

William turned to Scherezade and asked, “How recently was Al-Horrid’s palace built?”

“Al-Horrid’s palace was not always his,” she said, “It belonged to the great family of Ali-Baba.”

“Oh, I see,” said William, “That must be very hard on Ali-Baba.”

“Indeed. William, your handsomeness increases with every passing minute.” 

“Thank you,” said William, “Your skin is as placid as the surface of the Caspian, and your eyes have all the colors of a Persian sunset.”

Scheherezade was flattered and blushed a little. 

They looked into each other’s eyes, and then kissed. William’s heart felt full for his affection for Scherezade. 

Hajji, standing nearby and unable to mind his own business, made a silly face while Sinbad smiled at the blossoming of young love. The kiss reminded him of his eighth voyage to the island of Daryabar where he met the lovely Shireen. 

“Scherezade,” said William, between kisses, “going into the tiger’s mouth of Al-Horrid’s palace is very dangerous. I think you should stay behind. I couldn’t bear it if you were injured, or worse.”

“Thank you, William, but I can take care of myself. And I wouldn’t be surprised if you as a newcomer to Persia needed my help, before this adventure is done.”

“Thank you, Scherezade, I shall be there for you as well.”

Meanwhile, deep in the cellar, Ali-Baba was in conversation with Hassan the Builder. The man from the tavern had given Ali-Baba a secret knock with which to announce his visitation, and Hassan the Builder, hearing the familiar knock, had let him in.

Hassan felt very bad for rebuilding parts of the palace that had belonged to Ali-Baba. Walls had been torn down, rooms rearranged, and secret passages and treasure rooms had been added. 

“I am so very sorry,” Hassan said sadly, “I had no choice but to follow Al-Horrid’s orders or die.”

“I forgive you,” Ali Baba replied kindly, “I understand you had no choice. Al-Horrid is a horrible man, and I vow I will kill him in single combat.”

Hassan then took a piece of parchment and drew a map of the secret passages for Ali-Baba. The trick was that one had to get to one of the corner minarets to reach any of the secret passages, and that involved scaling the wall surrounding the palace, which was thirty feet high and guarded 24 hours a day. 

Hassan also placed in Ali-Baba’s hand a bronze passkey that would unlock any of the palace’s locks. Any lock, that is, except for the cabinet that held Al-Horrid’s scroll. Only Al-Horrid had a key to that, and he kept it safely on a golden chain around his neck. 

Ali-Baba gave Hassan the Builder a fraternal hug and exited. Hassan locked the door securely, for he was still fearful of Al-Horrid’s men hunting him down.

Ali-Baba joined William and the others, and they wound through the narrow streets to find a dune outside the city from which to launch the carpet. But then they saw a burning hut and a poor peasant crouched down on the sand in tears.. Standing by the peasant was a pair of tax collectors. 

“Please leave me something, just a little something,” begged the peasant, “I will starve if you take all I have!” 

“Shut up!” shouted one of the tax collectors, cruelly. 

Ali-Baba ran toward them, drawing his sword. William followed suit. They began to fight the tax collectors. William slew one; Ali-Baba slew the other. They handed the poor peasant back his money. 

“Hajji here is a genie. Ask him for a beautiful marble palace,” said William, knowing that Hajji would grant the wish half-way, but that would be enough.

“I wish for a beautiful marble palace,” asked the peasant.

“I shall make it so!” called Hajji, waving his hands. And then, in a puff of smoke, a modest stone block house appeared.

“My palace!” cried the peasant, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Despite the peasant’s joy, the group felt sad to witness another of Al-Horrid’s tyrannies toward the people. Ali Baba felt angry at how cruelly his people were being treated. 

They continued on to the outside of town. When Sinbad had found a nice flat stretch of sand from which to launch the flying carpet, they all climbed aboard. Scherezade held on to William’ arm for stability.

Ali-Baba called out the magic words and they took flight into the night!