The Storyteller's Daughter Read Online Free PDF Page B

senses once more. Tell me how I may serve you and it shall be done!”
    “Be silent, fool!” Shahrayar’s wife hissed. “Do not humble yourself so before him. Rather let us be bold and make an end of things here and now.”
    So saying, she raised the dagger high. But before she could strike, Shazaman stepped from his place of concealment and wrested the dagger from her, knocking her to the ground. Then with one swift stroke, Shazaman stabbed the queen’s lover through his traitor’s heart. His blood ran freely, forming a great pool around him. The queen knelt before her husband, her lover’s blood staining her fine robes.
    “Two choices lie before you,” Shahrayar said as he looked upon her, and his voice was both stern and cold. “You may die by my hand, or by your own.”
    But the queen was defiant, even in defeat. “Give me the dagger,” she commanded Shazaman. “I shall die by my hand and no other.” At a nod from his brother, Shazaman placed the dagger in the queen’s hand. Then she rose and faced Shahrayar.
    “My trials may end tonight, but yours are just beginning, husband. For now you know that even the most deadly of desires may be concealed in the heart you trust the most.
    “Until you have found a woman whose heart you can see truly and therefore know it—one who can do the same with yours—you will find no peace by day or by night. Think well on these words, and remember me when I am gone.”
    So saying, she put an end to her life.
    And thus began the trials of King Shahrayar.

Chapter 4
HOW SHAHRAZAD IS BOLD

    You shift a little in your chair, making yourself more comfortable. But what, you ask yourself, of Shahrazad? Is this not supposed to be her story? Yet she has been absent for many pages now. Surely it is time to see her again.

    Patience. Though you have not seen her, she has not been idle, nor has she been forgotten. She has merely been waiting for the proper place to re-enter the story. If you look carefully, you can even see it approaching.
    For many days following the death of his queen and her lover, Shahrayar behaved as always. So truly did he appear as he had always been that not even Shazaman, who loved him dearly and knew him well, could discover that there was anything wrong. So the time of Shazaman’s visit drew to an end, and he departed for Samarkand once more.
    But, at his brother’s leaving, a change came over Shahrayar. He shut himself in the highest tower of the palace. For many days and nights, he did not come down. The sun rose and set, and rose and set again, and still Shahrayar did not come down. Some nights, the lamps burned in the tower from dusk till dawn. On still others, great bolts of lightning shot from sky to tower, and from tower to sky. And finally there came a series of nights where no lights shone forth. All within the tower was as still as death. And those were the most terrible nights of all.
    Great was the fear Shahrayar’s people had for him. It was whispered that he was dabbling in black magic, consulting strange and mystical signs. But when at last Shahrayar came down from the tower, the people knew a new fear—and this fear was for themselves.
    For the king was as a stranger. Never had they looked upon his like before. The fact that in outward form and body he still resembled Shahrayar meant nothing. For his heart had altered so irretrievably that none could recognize it. And in this way … it had been turned to stone.
    For all the days and nights he remained in the tower, Shahrayar had grappled with his wife’s final words. They had been as a curse upon him, eating away like a cancer in his soul. For after so great and unexpected a betrayal, Shahrayar could find no way to believe it was possible to find a woman who would see his heart truly and so come to know it, yet be unafraid to have her own heart seen and known.
    For even though she had deceived him in all else, in this Shahrayar perceived that his wife had spoken truly: Treachery could