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Fantasy Fan, v. 1, issue 4, December 1933
Page 57
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The Flagon of Beauty (Annals of the Jinns) by R. H. Barlow The Princess drooped her long eyelashes. She was really quite pretty when she did this. "And you have brought it? she asked softly, her hand stealing into his. He coughed. This being spokesman was a delicate task. "Yes, your Highness," said the man. "It is here." He touched a small parcel beside him on the divan. "And you will give it to me?" she breathed. Steeling himself, he replied, "Their terms are the freedom of the people." She sprang to her feet. "Never!" "Not for the Flagon?" he queried harshly. "Not even for that." Reconsidering, she spoke slowly. "Five years ago I sent a band in search of this fabulous drug, into the low-lying jungle that cloaks the Ancient Cities, the Cities that no man knows who built, there in the steaming swamps. Men have said that I was beautiful, yet, ironically, he for whom I have wrecked my empire scorned me. It was then I bethought me of this flask made in the immemorial years agone, which figured in legend as containing the essence of Beauty. Perhaps, I though, with this I might win him from my rival. Today you have returned; successfully, I grant you; and demand yield of my power for that which I desire. I have been told bitter things--that I have ruled mercilessly and tyranically. That I have, but I cared little for affairs of state since I became enamoured of my prince. He has neglected no indignity to impose upon me, but I cannot forget him. On the night of my Feast of Peacocks he sneered at the priceless dishes and fed his monkey from the place. The gutterrat he has an infatuation for entertains him most skillfully, but he shares her with the soldiers. He prefers her florid charms to me. This I do not understand, but, I command you, give me that flagon." He slowly shook his head. "No, Majesty, I cannot betray their faith. Fever took many lives in those crumbling ruins." "I warn you, I am desperate," she said imperiously, "give, or I shall take." He lowered his gaze and remained silent. Seeing he was adamant, she made a gesture with her head, and a slave stepped from the curtained alcove. "Take this man to the Room of Pain, she ordered. In consternation, he sought to dash the frail vessel to the tiles, but it was dexterously twisted from his grasp by the blackamoor. The princess laughed insanely. "My men did well to steal you from under his nose, my wench," she sneered to the helpless woman at her feet. "Let me see those carmine lips smile at this!" she added contemptously, breaking the ancient seal covered with writing
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The Flagon of Beauty (Annals of the Jinns) by R. H. Barlow The Princess drooped her long eyelashes. She was really quite pretty when she did this. "And you have brought it? she asked softly, her hand stealing into his. He coughed. This being spokesman was a delicate task. "Yes, your Highness," said the man. "It is here." He touched a small parcel beside him on the divan. "And you will give it to me?" she breathed. Steeling himself, he replied, "Their terms are the freedom of the people." She sprang to her feet. "Never!" "Not for the Flagon?" he queried harshly. "Not even for that." Reconsidering, she spoke slowly. "Five years ago I sent a band in search of this fabulous drug, into the low-lying jungle that cloaks the Ancient Cities, the Cities that no man knows who built, there in the steaming swamps. Men have said that I was beautiful, yet, ironically, he for whom I have wrecked my empire scorned me. It was then I bethought me of this flask made in the immemorial years agone, which figured in legend as containing the essence of Beauty. Perhaps, I though, with this I might win him from my rival. Today you have returned; successfully, I grant you; and demand yield of my power for that which I desire. I have been told bitter things--that I have ruled mercilessly and tyranically. That I have, but I cared little for affairs of state since I became enamoured of my prince. He has neglected no indignity to impose upon me, but I cannot forget him. On the night of my Feast of Peacocks he sneered at the priceless dishes and fed his monkey from the place. The gutterrat he has an infatuation for entertains him most skillfully, but he shares her with the soldiers. He prefers her florid charms to me. This I do not understand, but, I command you, give me that flagon." He slowly shook his head. "No, Majesty, I cannot betray their faith. Fever took many lives in those crumbling ruins." "I warn you, I am desperate," she said imperiously, "give, or I shall take." He lowered his gaze and remained silent. Seeing he was adamant, she made a gesture with her head, and a slave stepped from the curtained alcove. "Take this man to the Room of Pain, she ordered. In consternation, he sought to dash the frail vessel to the tiles, but it was dexterously twisted from his grasp by the blackamoor. The princess laughed insanely. "My men did well to steal you from under his nose, my wench," she sneered to the helpless woman at her feet. "Let me see those carmine lips smile at this!" she added contemptously, breaking the ancient seal covered with writing
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