The Ostrich Egg - Part One

Some things, they say, are buried in the sand, waiting to be remembered. Time is a thief!

The Ostrich Egg – Part One

"Do you fancy a holiday in Arabia, my dear Anna? Leonard asked, his eyes bright. “Think of it: endless sand, ancient mysteries and a sun that would turn your skin to gold.”

Anna leaned over his shoulder, her eyes drifting over the glossy travel brochure. “It looks beautiful, Leonard, but look at this picture, this vast, empty desert. The caption says it was once a lush lake surrounded by palms.”

“Time is a thief,” Leonard murmured, passing her the brochure. “Some things, they say, remain buried in the sand, waiting to be remembered.
Anna traced the image of a ruined palace, and as she did so, the modern world seemed to tilt and fade.

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Long ago when the stars were the only map, King Latif ruled over a palace beside a shimmering, enchanting lake. Beyond the lake was arid land, fast encroaching on his kingdom. Every year the dunes crept closer, swallowing the greenery. The lake became smaller and beyond it, space, emptiness and silence, except for the desert winds which blew the sand into rolling ridges. The heat was a physical weight by day but cooled rapidly at night. Men only lived there because it was the land into which they were born.

Latif was a king of middle years, his hair touched by the frost of age, but his heart remained locked. He was waiting for a woman he had seen only in his dreams – a silhouette of gold and shadow.

King Latif watched the women bathing in the tubs below his balcony. One of the women always captured his attention. She moved with a feline grace that felt like a personal challenge. As she bathed in fresh, ivory milk, she would lift a shapely knee or a slender foot above the liquid, her dark hair cascading like a silk waterfall. She never spoke; she only teased him with the language of her body.

“Who is she?” Latif demanded of his servant.

“I have no idea,” he replied.

"How can you say that?" enquired the King. "I see her every day, bathing in the tubs of milk, or walking in the palace gardens, like yesterday evening. You remember we were together, you and I? How can you say you don't know who she is?"

The servant smiled and the sun shone and made his eyes glint.

"All I saw was a black cat walking amongst the statues," he replied.

The King stroked his grey moustache and pondered on the servant's remark.

"I must meet that woman," he said. "She must come to my apartments before the moon is full."

The servant looked around him. "How can that be Master? I don't know where to find her?"

"I don't care how you do it," said the King. "I will reward you handsomely if you bring her to me. If you don't bring her to me by the full moon, you will be cut into a million pieces and fed to the lions!"

The servant threw his arms in the air and fled the room, leaving the King watching the woman. His mind was troubled.

The next few days passed by slowly. The palace staff were busy getting ready for a Winter Solstice party to be held in the main hall at the end of the week. Exotic food of all types was being prepared in the kitchens. There were bowls of multi-coloured fruit, fresh figs and sultanas. Their fragrance filled the air and tempted the appetite.

King Latif was in no mood to be polite to party guests. He was full of longing for the beautiful woman with dark hair whose fragrance filled his thoughts from morning till night.

"Has anybody arranged for the dancers?” asked the King. "I don't want my guests to go home complaining that the entertainment was sub-standard. I only want the best, the very best. Nothing else will do!"

That night the King lay alone in his enormous bed beneath a canopy of red and gold silk drapes. He couldn't bring himself to take a concubine until he could hold his dream in his arms. The air was close beneath the canopy. He called a servant to bring the fan of palm leaves.

"Fan me slowly," he requested. "I want to feel as if the desert blows a kiss across my brow."

The servant fanned as slowly as he could and the King closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids the image of his beloved came to him. She smiled and lowered her lids until the lashes rested on her golden cheeks. When she opened her eyes again, he saw that the pupils were elongated, like a cat's. He felt the power of her calling in his loins and he filled with desire for her.

The night of the full moon was getting closer and the manservant was getting more and more scared that he would not be able to locate the woman.

"It's like looking for a camel in a sandstorm!" he grumbled. "Why does it have to be that woman? What has she got that the others haven't? One woman is the same as another. The King is bewitched!"

The servant made discreet enquiries amongst the eunuchs and some of the women who he knew by name. Day after day he got the same answer:-

"Don't know who you mean! Don't you know her name?"

The night of the party arrived and the King entered the banqueting hall. All around him were the eager faces of his guests. For some of them, the food was the biggest attraction, but for others it was the company or the dancing.

The King had lost his appetite. Food no longer interested him. He had no desire to fill his belly. He wondered if the servant had had any success in locating the mystery woman and decided to ask him at the end of the evening.

The party proceedings progressed. The mountains of food receded, and the faces of the guests became more red than when they arrived.

The King ate little. His thoughts were on the dancing. He loved to watch the dancers in their beautiful clothes as they performed for him and the other guests on these occasions.

The dancers came on. There were many of them, dressed in pink and ruby coloured veils and glittering belts, which sparkled in the light of the oil lamps. Their perfume filled the air with musk and a sense of excitement filled the room. The watching guests adjusted their positions so best to see the beautiful girls as they took up their positions.

King Latif watched the girls' movements. He saw them raise their arms in the air and click their fingers and he saw their bodies moving gracefully in time to the music. He saw the desire in their eyes when they looked at him, for he was a very attractive man - tall and strong with a straight back and proud deportment. He could have had any one of them in his bed that night. He only had to command it.

The musicians took a break and ate some more food and then took up their instruments once more. Dancers in ruby veils and glittering belts performed with hypnotic precision, their bodies glowing in the lamplight. Latif watched them all, his heart heavy, until he saw an extra figure among the troupe.
She was dressed in midnight black and emerald green. Her eyes, lighter than the others, a piercing hazel, locked onto his. When she danced, the world seemed to stop. She shed her veils with a slow, agonizing beauty, her honey-coloured skin shimmering. On her finger, a gold ring caught the light.

He called his servant to him.

"You see that woman dancing there... the one with the lighter eyes and the auburn hair. When the dance is over, bring her to my rooms. She is the one that I want. I will have no other." As the music died, she vanished like smoke.

The servant looked at the dancers, but he couldn't see the woman that the King described.

The servant ran after the dancers, but he couldn't find the one the King described.

Latif went to his room to wait. He waited a long time and his legs got tired, pacing up and down. He was very excited at the prospect of meeting his muse at last so he waited and waited and waited. At last the servant entered the room. He was on his own and he looked disappointed.

"You stupid man," said the King, "Where is she?"

"I couldn't find her, master. I looked and looked. I'm sorry, I will look again tomorrow."

Exasperated, Latif returned to his chambers. He sat on the edge of his bed, head in hands, when he felt a soft pressure against his leg. A black cat was rubbing against him, purring like a desert storm. As he reached down to stroke her, the air began to shimmer and warp. The cat grew, her fur becoming silk, her claws becoming slender fingers. Threads of memories past entwined themselves around one another.

"We are together again," he said. "How did you do it?"

She grinned an impish grin.

"It has been ten years since we met, my beloved, but you hardly recognised me. Have I changed that much?"

The King's heart was bursting with love.

"Astra,” the King whispered. “You are just as beautiful as when we last met. Come nearer to me. I want to touch your silky skin." They fell into each other’s arms. The reunion was a fire that had been smouldering for a decade. He traced the lines of her body, his hands discovering the warmth of her skin. Their kiss tasted of honey and ancient promises. Beneath her robe she wore a belt of tiny silver bells that tinkled with every breath. That night, their passion was a bridge across time, a merging of two souls that had been kept apart by a cruel twist of fate.

When their lovemaking was over, Astra lay in the King's arms, content for him to hold her while the feelings melted away, but the King was restless.

"Astra," he whispered, "Where did you put the memory stone? I want to find it and keep it. I am getting older and I don't want to forget you or the details of our lives together anymore."

"Darling," said Astra, sleepily, "You know what the agreement with the witch was. We can be together for one night every ten years. That way we can live forever, shedding one life for another, like a snake sheds its skin."

"Well, I don't want that anymore. I want to be with you every night, even if our lives are shorter because of it. I never want to say goodbye to you again."

Astra lifted the weight of her body on to her elbow and looked him straight in the face. "Then we shall have to go and find the witch."

"And the memory stone?"

"I hid it in an ostrich egg and buried it in the sand."

The King gasped. "Then we shall never find it, and when the sun rises in the morning, I shall forget all about you again. I can't bear that. Desperation is the seed which grows inside me!"

"Tomorrow you must go and speak to the witch," said Astra. "Tell her you need some powerful magic. Ask her to help you find the memory stone. Now, I must sleep. I am so tired."

The loving couple fell asleep in each other’s arms and a few hours later, when the king awoke, there was nothing left of Astra, but one white whisker on his pillow.

The servant came and brought the King his breakfast.

"Are you all right, master? You look strange?"

"I feel strange, servant. I had such a vivid dream last night, but now I can't remember it. It had something to do with an ostrich egg."

"Do you want an ostrich egg, master?"

"Yes, I think I do, but bless me, I can't think why."

"Can it be any ostrich egg, master?" asked the faithful, long-suffering servant, raising his eyes to the sky.

"I wish I could say yes, but I have to say no," said the King. "I need to speak with the witch. Where is she today?"

"She's down at the lake. I saw her go. You'll find her there if you go now."

The King took a walk down to the lake and, just as the servant had told him, there was the witch, standing at the lakeside, where the water lapped the shore. Around the witch was a green aura, which covered her understanding. She turned as the King approached her and bowed her head, nothing more.

"You look as if you have lost something, Sire" she said to him, her voice soft, like the dusk in the evening. "Can I help you to find it?"

The King smiled, despite his misgivings.

"With the grey in my hair comes a wisp of memory, but I cannot catch it. It eludes me. Can you help me to regain those events, which are lost to me?"

"I can help you Sire, but the magic needed is strong. It will cost you dearly."

"I will pay whatever you ask."

The witch smiled knowingly and tapped the side of her nose.

"I will need an ostrich egg," she told him. "Come to my house one week from tonight and bring it with you."

"And your payment?"

"We will discuss that later."
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End of Part One – Part Two follows soon