‘It was two years ago when my father sent me on this quest,’ he explained. ‘He was on his deathbed at the time, but he insisted that I go into the desert to find a mysterious white maiden who has been blessed with special healing powers. This maiden had been revealed to him by the winds and in his dreams.’ The sorcerer soon settled into his tale, and I sat in silent wonder as he spoke in his quiet way.
* * *
His father had believed that this desert flower was the woman destined to marry his son, and that any child of the union would be born with new and wonderful powers that would be greater than the sum of the parts.
Sorcerers were becoming out of date in a modern and complex world, his father had said. He wanted his son to take the powers that had often been used for dark purposes and join them with the healing powers of the white princess, and then to use those powers for good rather than evil. Already this maiden had become a legend in her own land, rising to cult status with the people. From the day she was born, however, she had incurred the wrath of her father, the chief, who had been outraged to see that she was as white of hair and pink of skin as a new-born lamb, while he was as dark and rugged as the desert night. He had his wife put to the sword at once for her suspected infidelity, and he vowed to watch the child closely to see what manner of evil she would bring. The child was denied her birthright as a princess and forced to live with the servants and slaves.
The chief had ruled his household and his people with an iron fist, routinely robbing and pillaging the desert settlements and any caravan that dared stray near his territory. With the great wealth he acquired for himself, he built a huge castle on a large and fertile oasis in the middle of the desert. The people came daily to the great castle to pay taxes or to bring gifts and offerings to the chief. Those who failed to pay their taxes were visited by soldiers who would seize their possessions or stock. If there was nothing of value to steal, the people were taken into slavery or brutally killed as a warning to others.
Shuddering, Brengazi paused for a time in his narration. At last he continued, explaining how the desert ruler liked to strip his enemies naked and then peg them out on a meat-ants’ nest. He would then watch in morbid fascination while they died in slow screaming agony as the ants stripped the flesh from their bones.
Because he did not really believe her to be his own, the chief never bothered to give the girl a name. But the desert people called her Nan – the white princess – and it was as Nan that she soon became known throughout the desert communities. As the girl grew into a beautiful young woman she began to make daily visits to one of the many wells in the oasis with the other servants, to draw water and to bathe. As word of her presence spread, the desert people began to gravitate towards the strange albino girl, believing her to have magical healing powers. Even though her father had denied her, the people accepted her as a princess who had been sent by the gods to help them. Crowds of people from far and wide would gather at the well each day for a glimpse of the girl, the very same well that I could now see in the shadows under the towering palms. The people believed that if she looked kindly upon the sick, or weak and infirm, they would soon be cured of whatever ailed them. One day a woman with leprosy had come to the well to meet the girl, pushing through the crowd and begging for help. The girl had smiled at the woman and beckoned her to come near, and then she had poured her pail of cool spring water over the woman’s sores. A month later the woman had returned to the well, her sores healed and her voice raised in praise of her benefactor.
The sorcerer had heard this story and many more as he searched for the girl, and now, at last, his quest had led him to this great oasis. Like me, he had posed as an innocent Bedouin with few real possessions or wealth; for to do otherwise would have attracted the attention of the desert chief. But for a long time no expedition had gone into this part of the world, because the desert chief was known to attack and rob any passing travellers, murdering the people and stealing their camels and goods. I nodded as I listened – for I had experienced the same problems in finding passage to this place myself. At last, however, he had found a shrewd man who enjoyed a special arrangement with the desert chief, bringing in much-needed trade supplies in safety in exchange for a share of the profits. After much bargaining, the man had agreed to take the sorcerer to the edge of the oasis. Once he left the protection of the supply caravan, however, his life would be in his own hands. It had taken him a long time to reach this point, Brengazi explained, but soon he hoped his quest would be over.
* * *
It was just after dawn when the sorcerer finished his story; and others had begun quietly to collect at the oasis, waiting as we were waiting. Then he suddenly fell quiet as Nan, the beautiful white princess we had been discussing, appeared with her entourage.
We sat in silent wonder and watched the girl draw water from the well. Her movements were gentle and delicate in the soft light of dawn. A faint glow seemed to emanate from her as she worked, and people immediately began to gravitate to her. Somehow she appeared to be able to make contact with every one of them at the same time.
Until that moment, though I had tried to conceal it, I had been listening to the sorcerer’s story with a constant look of skepticism upon my face. The whole quest appeared too clinical for me. I was a romantic at heart, I suppose, and such an orchestrated union seemed to lack something. But now as we watched the girl I could feel her power and understand a little of what Brengazi’s father had seen in his dreams. “Is she magical as well, then?” I asked.
“She probably is,” Brengazi said quietly. “But like me, I suspect her real gift is in her ability to release the power that is in people to help themselves, by giving them the gift of belief. Though the gods have vested special powers upon her as well,” he mused, watching the girl pour water from her pail over the suppurating wounds of a soldier. “I suppose that’s why my father sent me to find her and marry her.”
We sat and watched a little longer as the girl smiled and talked quietly with the others at the well until at last it was time for her to return to her duties at the castle. “I don’t know why they call her the white princess,” I said as we watched her go. “She is actually more colorless than white – like a beautiful translucent flower.” The sorcerer nodded in agreement. I could see that his heart ached with longing for the girl of his destiny.
* * *
It was several days before Brengazi found the courage to speak to the girl, but I continually urged him on until at last he spoke up. She said little at first, only saying that she had seen him watching her, and that she had wondered why it had taken him so long to speak to her. However, from that moment there seemed at once to be a form of communication between them that was beyond words. They arranged to meet secretly after dark that same day, with me standing guard as they talked for hours into the night.
They met each day after that, and the sorcerer and I gradually became the best of friends. I joined in the daily gatherings with the girl’s loyal supporters who had begun to bring gifts of food and goods. I had little else to do during this time except wait for the return of the supply caravan that would take me out of the desert; but throughout my waiting I could see their love blossoming. I wondered, however, what direction their lives would take under these strange circumstances. I knew that they could never be openly married, for their love would never receive the blessing of the desert chief.
So it was no surprise to me when they became secret lovers. Soon the girl was expecting a child. In time, as the pregnancy advanced,