The words of Boka Marduska descended into the ears of Fulani Maryama like thunder, his voice echoing within her ears. Instantly, her body trembled, her tongue faltering as she stammered in panic:
“Marduska, please help me, support my life and tell me how I can know who she is.”
Boka Marduska cast her a piercing look while fanning the fire burning inside the skull-shaped pot before him and said:
“Maryama, why are you so stubborn? This matter is not new to you. Even I cannot contend with this girl. In fact, all my investigations have failed to reveal her true identity. What troubles me is whether she is even human or one of the jinn. Those who have appeared before — one was from the white jinn and another from the black. What I do not know is which side this one belongs to. One help I can give you, Maryama, but only if my search allows…”
Maryama nearly fell onto him, trembling as she cut in:
“Marduska, please help me, at least describe her looks so I can know which one she is.”
Marduska frowned deeply and said:
“Maryama, why do you shake like a woman who has tasted her husband’s charity? Don’t you know that if you fall into this fire, it would have been better for you to meet Rayzuta, though even your encounter with her is no blessing? This fire, if it touches you even slightly, will slowly cause your flesh to wither until you begin to groan like a corpse.”
Maryama bowed her head and said:
“I repent, O king of all sorcerers.”
The Revelation in the Fire
Marduska continued his rituals, tossing mystical books into the fire. From within, a vision appeared — a young woman stood with her back turned, her hands entwined with a young man. Wiping sweat from his face, he said:
“Maryama, come and see.”
Hurriedly, Fulani Maryama leaned closer, her face clouded with worry. She said:
“Marduska, I don’t understand anything. All I see is a woman and a man standing. Please, with your great power, describe her to me.”
Marduska replied:
“The girl is tall but not excessively so, slightly plump, neither fair-skinned nor completely dark — her complexion is mixed. In short, she is like clay-water. But she is beautiful, with large eyes and a long nose, her features resembling those of the Tuareg. Yet her true form refuses to reveal itself so we may know who she is. What frightens me is that the day I sent jinn to capture the soul of your maid Bintu, she destroyed them. I fear she may turn her attention toward me, for she wields great power over both men and jinn.”
Maryama broke into heavy sweat, her eyes wide like an abandoned child at inheritance. Disturbed, she said:
“Marduska, my mind is collapsing over this girl, and now with Saif’s recovery, what medicine will you give me to cripple him again? And if I discover who she is, what action can I take — can I subdue her or destroy her?”
Marduska gave her a sharp look and then burst into loud laughter until he almost choked.
When he finished, he looked at Maryama, who was frowning as if about to cry. Amused again, he laughed and said:
“Truly, Maryama, now I am certain you are out of your senses. A girl who destroyed my jinn, do you think you can fight her? When your mind is troubled, does your reasoning vanish? I won’t tell you anything further — here is the field, here is the horse, so mount if you dare. The Hausa say, ‘Anyone who refuses to repent will face hardship.’ If you think you can face her, then try. But know that what you are about to attempt is like colliding with lightning. One advice I’ll give: when you discover her, scheme to have King Aminullah expel her from the palace through slander or some trick. That is the only way you can succeed. As for the boy, honestly, I cannot do anything to him, for I fear her wrath falling upon me. I assure you, this very cave we are in, she can crush it on us and destroy everything.”
Maryama’s heart grew even more troubled; unable to contain herself, she broke into bitter weeping.
When she finished, she wiped her nose and said:
“Marduska, why are things turning against me? I have heard your counsel and I will use it. But I also want you to strengthen my power over Takawa, so that whatever I command him, he will obey without resistance.”
Marduska paused briefly, then said:
“That can be done. But what will you give me in return? For I do not want to keep sending my jinn and losing them.”
Maryama replied:
“Say whatever you desire, O great sorcerer of complete power.”
Marduska said:
“There is a white cloth inside the old grave. Bring it, then smear it with the blood of your miscarriage.”
Maryama immediately went to the place he indicated, carried out his command, and returned. On her return, Marduska said:
“Get up, don’t sit before me. Go, leave. This request is fulfilled — but another remains.”
With that, he vanished. Maryama rose and left the rocky cave.
Saif’s Suffering and the Burden of Maryo
When Fulani Zaliha reached Saif, who was vomiting uncontrollably, she held him in panic, crying for help. Quickly, some servants rushed in, helping her restrain him, but he seemed unconscious. His body shivered violently, his skin scorching hot. Even his sweat burned the hands of those holding him, forcing them to let go.
In terror, Zaliha ran to King Aminullah’s palace and reported Saif’s condition. Salman, standing beside the king, grew furious, glaring at her with hatred. He said with scorn:
“So, you mean the cripple has risen?”
The king, surprised, replied:
“That is what amazes me too. Saif, the boy who could not even crawl but dragged his belly, now this is truly strange.”
Maryama, enraged, snapped:
“Mind your words! I do not want insults. If you dare insult my son again, I swear your life will pay dearly.”
Salman burst into laughter and said:
“Did I lie? He is not crippled? Or are you just angry that he still cannot walk?”
Furious, Zaliha slapped Salman hard, saying:
“It seems you lack proper upbringing…”
Enraged, King Aminullah cut her off:
“Zaliha, are you insane? Do you intend to slap my son in my presence because your son is a cripple? From today, never again — if you do, I will punish you harshly.”
Maryama’s eyes filled with tears. She said:
“My king, so you call me mad because of this boy? So you humiliate me for him? For twenty years, I and my son have lived without dignity, only humiliation. Every day, you rise without once associating Saif with your son, always saying ‘my son’ but never including him. No problem, since you don’t love us, we shall leave your life. You think we cannot survive without you? If you are fair, you will see. If not, still you will see…”
Before she could finish, King Aminullah struck her with a brutal slap, knocking her to her knees. Crying bitterly, weak and broken, she rose and stormed out.
When she returned, Saif was still vomiting violently. Servants gathered around, while Zaliha wept helplessly. She quickly called guards to carry Saif to her quarters.
As they carried him, Maryo arrived, moved with pity at his suffering, and tried to follow Zaliha to her chambers. But Abu held her back:
“Maryo, what are you trying to do? This morning we went to Zaliha’s chambers, now you want to go again? Don’t you know things have changed? Remember, you are now Maryama’s maid. If she hears of this, her wrath will destroy you. Who do you think you are to mingle with nobles? Don’t forget, we are mere slaves.”
Tears welled in Maryo’s eyes as she replied:
“Abu, I don’t even know what troubles me. My body refuses to let me return to our quarters. I feel as though I owe him something, as if not helping him would be wrong. Sometimes I even doubt whether I am truly a slave.”
Abu retorted:
“What kind of help can you give him? Haven’t you heard how many healers have died trying to treat him? Please, Maryo, let us stay safe. And stop deceiving yourself into thinking you are not a slave. If not a slave, then what are you?”
Maryo whispered:
“I have no answer to that question. I don’t even know how I could help him. But, Abu, ever since I saw this prince, my heart beats for him. From that very moment, I fell in love with him.”
Abu’s eyes widened in shock. She grabbed Maryo’s hand urgently:
“Come quickly before we are condemned!”
Maryo reluctantly followed. They returned to the slaves’ quarters and later gathered in the courtyard because of the heat. While sitting, Maryo noticed people passing by suspiciously. She rose and followed them secretly until they stopped between two giant baobab trees.
There, she saw a woman identical to herself, embracing a bloodied man who seemed lifeless. The woman wept in a strange, mournful voice. Maryo edged closer, intending to touch her, when a voice spoke:
“Go and save his life. He is in grave danger. This is the only help you can give him.”
Description
The Plea of Fulani Maryama Before Boka Marduska
The words of Boka Marduska descended into the ears of Fulani Maryama like thunder, his voice echoing within her ears. Instantly, her body trembled, her tongue faltering as she stammered in panic:
“Marduska, please help me, support my life and tell me how I can know who she is.”
Boka Marduska cast her a piercing look while fanning the fire burning inside the skull-shaped pot before him and said:
“Maryama, why are you so stubborn? This matter is not new to you. Even I cannot contend with this girl. In fact, all my investigations have failed to reveal her true identity. What troubles me is whether she is even human or one of the jinn. Those who have appeared before — one was from the white jinn and another from the black. What I do not know is which side this one belongs to. One help I can give you, Maryama, but only if my search allows…”
Maryama nearly fell onto him, trembling as she cut in:
“Marduska, please help me, at least describe her looks so I can know which one she is.”
Marduska frowned deeply and said:
“Maryama, why do you shake like a woman who has tasted her husband’s charity? Don’t you know that if you fall into this fire, it would have been better for you to meet Rayzuta, though even your encounter with her is no blessing? This fire, if it touches you even slightly, will slowly cause your flesh to wither until you begin to groan like a corpse.”
Maryama bowed her head and said:
“I repent, O king of all sorcerers.”
The Revelation in the Fire
Marduska continued his rituals, tossing mystical books into the fire. From within, a vision appeared — a young woman stood with her back turned, her hands entwined with a young man. Wiping sweat from his face, he said:
“Maryama, come and see.”
Hurriedly, Fulani Maryama leaned closer, her face clouded with worry. She said:
“Marduska, I don’t understand anything. All I see is a woman and a man standing. Please, with your great power, describe her to me.”
Marduska replied:
“The girl is tall but not excessively so, slightly plump, neither fair-skinned nor completely dark — her complexion is mixed. In short, she is like clay-water. But she is beautiful, with large eyes and a long nose, her features resembling those of the Tuareg. Yet her true form refuses to reveal itself so we may know who she is. What frightens me is that the day I sent jinn to capture the soul of your maid Bintu, she destroyed them. I fear she may turn her attention toward me, for she wields great power over both men and jinn.”
Maryama broke into heavy sweat, her eyes wide like an abandoned child at inheritance. Disturbed, she said:
“Marduska, my mind is collapsing over this girl, and now with Saif’s recovery, what medicine will you give me to cripple him again? And if I discover who she is, what action can I take — can I subdue her or destroy her?”
Marduska gave her a sharp look and then burst into loud laughter until he almost choked.
When he finished, he looked at Maryama, who was frowning as if about to cry. Amused again, he laughed and said:
“Truly, Maryama, now I am certain you are out of your senses. A girl who destroyed my jinn, do you think you can fight her? When your mind is troubled, does your reasoning vanish? I won’t tell you anything further — here is the field, here is the horse, so mount if you dare. The Hausa say, ‘Anyone who refuses to repent will face hardship.’ If you think you can face her, then try. But know that what you are about to attempt is like colliding with lightning. One advice I’ll give: when you discover her, scheme to have King Aminullah expel her from the palace through slander or some trick. That is the only way you can succeed. As for the boy, honestly, I cannot do anything to him, for I fear her wrath falling upon me. I assure you, this very cave we are in, she can crush it on us and destroy everything.”
Maryama’s heart grew even more troubled; unable to contain herself, she broke into bitter weeping.
When she finished, she wiped her nose and said:
“Marduska, why are things turning against me? I have heard your counsel and I will use it. But I also want you to strengthen my power over Takawa, so that whatever I command him, he will obey without resistance.”
Marduska paused briefly, then said:
“That can be done. But what will you give me in return? For I do not want to keep sending my jinn and losing them.”
Maryama replied:
“Say whatever you desire, O great sorcerer of complete power.”
Marduska said:
“There is a white cloth inside the old grave. Bring it, then smear it with the blood of your miscarriage.”
Maryama immediately went to the place he indicated, carried out his command, and returned. On her return, Marduska said:
“Get up, don’t sit before me. Go, leave. This request is fulfilled — but another remains.”
With that, he vanished. Maryama rose and left the rocky cave.
Saif’s Suffering and the Burden of Maryo
When Fulani Zaliha reached Saif, who was vomiting uncontrollably, she held him in panic, crying for help. Quickly, some servants rushed in, helping her restrain him, but he seemed unconscious. His body shivered violently, his skin scorching hot. Even his sweat burned the hands of those holding him, forcing them to let go.
In terror, Zaliha ran to King Aminullah’s palace and reported Saif’s condition. Salman, standing beside the king, grew furious, glaring at her with hatred. He said with scorn:
“So, you mean the cripple has risen?”
The king, surprised, replied:
“That is what amazes me too. Saif, the boy who could not even crawl but dragged his belly, now this is truly strange.”
Maryama, enraged, snapped:
“Mind your words! I do not want insults. If you dare insult my son again, I swear your life will pay dearly.”
Salman burst into laughter and said:
“Did I lie? He is not crippled? Or are you just angry that he still cannot walk?”
Furious, Zaliha slapped Salman hard, saying:
“It seems you lack proper upbringing…”
Enraged, King Aminullah cut her off:
“Zaliha, are you insane? Do you intend to slap my son in my presence because your son is a cripple? From today, never again — if you do, I will punish you harshly.”
Maryama’s eyes filled with tears. She said:
“My king, so you call me mad because of this boy? So you humiliate me for him? For twenty years, I and my son have lived without dignity, only humiliation. Every day, you rise without once associating Saif with your son, always saying ‘my son’ but never including him. No problem, since you don’t love us, we shall leave your life. You think we cannot survive without you? If you are fair, you will see. If not, still you will see…”
Before she could finish, King Aminullah struck her with a brutal slap, knocking her to her knees. Crying bitterly, weak and broken, she rose and stormed out.
When she returned, Saif was still vomiting violently. Servants gathered around, while Zaliha wept helplessly. She quickly called guards to carry Saif to her quarters.
As they carried him, Maryo arrived, moved with pity at his suffering, and tried to follow Zaliha to her chambers. But Abu held her back:
“Maryo, what are you trying to do? This morning we went to Zaliha’s chambers, now you want to go again? Don’t you know things have changed? Remember, you are now Maryama’s maid. If she hears of this, her wrath will destroy you. Who do you think you are to mingle with nobles? Don’t forget, we are mere slaves.”
Tears welled in Maryo’s eyes as she replied:
“Abu, I don’t even know what troubles me. My body refuses to let me return to our quarters. I feel as though I owe him something, as if not helping him would be wrong. Sometimes I even doubt whether I am truly a slave.”
Abu retorted:
“What kind of help can you give him? Haven’t you heard how many healers have died trying to treat him? Please, Maryo, let us stay safe. And stop deceiving yourself into thinking you are not a slave. If not a slave, then what are you?”
Maryo whispered:
“I have no answer to that question. I don’t even know how I could help him. But, Abu, ever since I saw this prince, my heart beats for him. From that very moment, I fell in love with him.”
Abu’s eyes widened in shock. She grabbed Maryo’s hand urgently:
“Come quickly before we are condemned!”
Maryo reluctantly followed. They returned to the slaves’ quarters and later gathered in the courtyard because of the heat. While sitting, Maryo noticed people passing by suspiciously. She rose and followed them secretly until they stopped between two giant baobab trees.
There, she saw a woman identical to herself, embracing a bloodied man who seemed lifeless. The woman wept in a strange, mournful voice. Maryo edged closer, intending to touch her, when a voice spoke:
“Go and save his life. He is in grave danger. This is the only help you can give him.”