Disclaimers:  Adventures of Sinbad characters and concept are property of their creators.   The following story is exclusive property of the author.

Deadly Truth

©, Mrinda Jez

Chapter One

Sinbad looked out over the bazaar for what seemed like the hundredth time.  Firouz had left a few hours ago to get some supples for the Nomad, but he had not returned yet.  If he didn't show up soon, then would miss the tide.  Sinbad looked around at the rest of the crew.  Doubar was on the dock supervising the loading of the silks for the Caliph of Bagdad onto the ship.  Rongar was on the ship directing the men stowing it below deck.  Maeve was holed up in her cabin studying one of the magic books Dim Dim had given her.

"Any sign of him yet?" Doubar came down to stand by his younger brother.

Sinbad sighed, "No, I'm going to go looking for him.  He probably just got distracted by something and forgot about the time."

"I'm coming with you.  No telling what you'll run into."

Sinbad smile at his brother.  "Rongar!" Sinbad waved at the moor.  "We're going to look for Firouz!"

The Moor nodded and waved.

"Come on, let's go."

Sinbad and Doubar walked through the crowded bazaar.  They pushed their way through the crowded streets past small shops and stalls.  Venders call to them offering all kinds of wares from fresh fruit to used horse harnesses.   One shop caught Sinbad's eye.

"Doubar, lets try over there."  He pointed to a blacksmith shop.

"Seems a likely spot to start," Doubar said with a nod.

They worked their way through the crowded streets till they stood outside the shop.

"Can I help you gentlemen?"  The owner of the smithy was a burly man.  His skin was a dusky color darkened by soot and tanned from years working the forge.  He was nearly a match in bulk to Doubar.

"Yes," Sinbad said.  "We're looking for a friend of ours.  He's an inventor and may have been looking for some tools for metal working.  He's about my height, with dark curly hair."

"And why are you looking for this 'friend' of yours?"  The man eyed them skeptically.

Sinbad looked back at Doubar and the big man nodded.  "Our friend was due back at our ship a few hours ago.  We need to find him or we'll miss the tide."

The man eyes Sinbad and Doubar critically, then his face brightened.  "You're Sinbad, the captain of the Nomad, aren't you."

"Yes," Sinbad said guardedly.

"Nice to meet you!"  The man grabbed his hand and started to pump it.  His large meaty hand nearly crushed Sinbad's hand, but the young captain managed to keep his smile in place.  The smith let go and Sinbad discreetly flexed his smashed fingers, trying to keep from wincing.

"You must be Doubar."  The smith shook Doubar's hand and from the look on his face, Doubar didn't seemed to have fared any better.

"I'm called Rizgin."  The man dug under a counter for a few moments.  He pulled out a bag and they could hear metal clanking around inside it.  "Your man was here early this morning.  Firouz, I believe he said his name was.  He was to stop back and pick this up before he left, but he hasn't showed yet."

"Really."  Sinbad eyes narrowed.

"Really, nice guy that Firouz.  He was kind enough to fix my bellows.  Those things haven't work right in months.  Thanks to him I'm getting proper temperature in my forge."

Doubar smiled.  "That's Firouz, always trying to be helpful."

"Do you know were he was going next?" Sinbad asked.

Rizgin thought for a moment.  "He was looking for map-making supplies.  I told him about Vabarn's shop on the far side of town.  He may be able to tell you where he went from there."

"Thank you.  We appreciate it."  Sinbad and Doubar turned to go.

"Hey, wait a minute.  You can take his things with you."

Rizgin held the bag out to them.  Doubar took the bag and nearly dropped it.  With an effort he slung it over his shoulder.  "What in here, horse shoes?"

"Just some odd things Firouz asked me to make."

Sinbad dug into his belt.  "How much do we owe you?"

Rizgin shook his head.  "No charge.  I probably owe him for all the work he did on my bellows."

"Well, thank you again."  Sinbad laid a hand on his brother's shoulder.  "We had best get after finding our friend."

"Bye," Rizgin called after them.

"Seem a nice fellow," Doubar said as then walked away.

"Yes," Sinbad said in distracted tone.  "It doesn't seem like Firouz not to have picked up that metal work he ordered."

"It seem just like Firouz."  Doubar shifted the sack up on his shoulder.  "He probably just got distracted and lost track of time."

"Perhaps."

They pushed their way along the crowded streets.  The farther they went into the city and more crowded it had become.  Banners and garlands of flowers lined the streets.  Men and women in festival dress milled in the thoroughfare.

"Sinbad, remember, we don't have time for pretty girls," Doubar said, watching a rather shapely one give the captain a shy smile.

Sinbad gave his brother a hurt look.  "Doubar, you know me."  He turned a bit to watch the girl as they walked past her.

"Yes, I know you."  Doubar nudged him back around.  "We have to find Firouz."

"Yeah, Firouz."  Sinbad turned back around and was knocked down by a man pulling a cart.  The man apologized and helped him to helped him to his feet.  "No, I'm fine," Sinbad assured the man.

"What's with all these people?" Sinbad asked after they had passed out of the man's hearing.  Traffic in the street had come to a complete stand still.   "What's going on?"

A young woman in a bright blue gown turned to look at them.  "You're not from around here are you?" She asked.

Sinbad glanced at Doubar.  "No, we're travelers and just stopped at this port to pick up some cargo and supples."

The girl laughed and her amber eyes sparkled.  "You picked the worst time to stop here.  The Caliph of Duhin is here to appoint an new city magistrate.   Gatharian is getting ready to step down.  Everybody in the kingdom is in town for this."

"Great," Doubar said set the heavy bag down.  He stretched his stiff shoulder and glared at the wall of people in front of them.  "Now how are we going to get across town?"

"Where do you need to go?"

"We need to get to Vabarn the map maker's shop," Sinbad said.

"I can take you," the girl said with a smile.  " It's on my way home.  I just need to get a sack of flour and we can go."

"If it's not out of your way."

"Not at all."

"You're being so kind to us and we don't even know your name," Sinbad said, giving her one of his dimpled smiles.  He scooped up her hand and kissed it.

The girl blushed and pulled her hand away.  "Kaliandra."

"Pleasure to meet you, Kaliandra.  My name is Sinbad."  He heard Doubar snort behind him.  "And this is my brother, Doubar."

Doubar smiled.  "Hi."

"Hi.  I, um, need to get that flour.  I'll be right back."  She stared at Sinbad a moment longer and then turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Sinbad turned and found Doubar smirking.<

Chapter Two

Firouz slowly opened his eyes and then wished he hadn't.  He felt as if he had been kicked in the head by a horse.  He tried to rub the aching spot on the back of his head, but he hands would cooperate.  He panicked for a moment and then realized what was wrong.  His hands were chained above his head.  He struggled against his bonds for a moment and then sank back against the wall in exhaustion.  Brute force may work for Doubar, he thought.  But I'm not Doubar. He gave one more weak tug against the bonds and closed his eyes.  He needed to think, but his head was throbbing so badly he could barely put two thoughts together, let alone plan an escape.

He tried to remember what had happened to him.  He had just left Vabarn's shop and was going to the main market to search for some dry goods.  Then he...he had...  He couldn't remember what happened after that.  The ache in his head was making it hard to concentrate.  Someone must have snuck up behind him and clubbed him.  It wouldn't have been too hard with all the confusion the crowds in the street were making.  At least, he thought hopefully, someone might have seen what had happened and would tell Sinbad and crew.  That was if they were even looking for him.  They probably thought he had just wandered off and got distracted by something and lost track of time.

He cursed himself: he should have been paying more attention to what was going on around him.  Sinbad was going to kill him, if they ever managed to rescue him.  That was, if they were still here and hadn't decided to leave without him.  If they were still there, they would had missed the tide.  That would make them days late for getting back to Basra.  The Caliph wouldn't be getting the silks for his wife's birthday they had been commissioned to deliver.

Suddenly, the door on the far wall clanked open, pulling Firouz back to the here and now.  Light blazed in and blinded him.  He squinted and tried to turn away from the sudden brilliance.  He hadn't realized how dark the cell had been until this moment.  As his eyes adjusted he could make out the figures of guard entering the room carrying torches.

One especially burly brute walked up and roughly grabbed Firouz face holding it up to the light.  "He's awake."

"Good.  Good.  I had rather feared your overzealousness had permanently injured him."

Firouz glared at the guard and then turned to see this new speaker.  An old gnarled man walked into the room.  His rich robes hung loosely from his boney body.  What caught Firouz's attention the most was the ornately carved staff he was leaning on.  Beside him stood a young man in spotless white robes.   He looked like every other rich young nobleman, right down to the disdainful sneer curling his lips.

The old man took a step closer and looked at him.  "You are a sailor from the Nomad, are you not?"

Firouz eyed the little group arrayed in front of him.  "Why should I tell you?  You already seem to know who I am.  I see no reason to cooperate with you.  You no doubt already planing to kill me, so why not just do and get it over with."

The young man nodded to one of the guards.  The guard backhanded Firouz, snapping his head back painfully.  He tasted blood and felt it start to trickle from the corner of his mouth.

The young man took a step closer and said in a low warning voice.  "He the one asking the questions here and do not forget that.  Or Kedel will have to remind you again."

The old man spoke again.  "I want to know about your Captain Sinbad."

Firouz just glared at him, but said nothing.  He tensed as Kedel drew back to strike him again.

"Stay."

The guard waited for an order from the younger man.  But he didn't not move.

"Sire," the young man turned to face the older man.  "Are you going to let him just defy you?"

The old man was silent for a moment longer he studied Firouz as he would analyze an insect.  Firouz shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

"Sire."

"You're not going to answer any of our questions, are you?" the old man asked Firouz.

Firouz returned his stare and said simply, "No."

The old man nodded and turned to the younger man.  "Get the elixir.  I do not mean to spoil your amusement, but we are short on time.  If it does not loosen his tongue, no bout of your brutality will.  Go."

The young man glared at Firouz and then bowed.  "As you wish." He turned and hurried out of the room.

The old man leaned on his staff and regarded Firouz.  "My spies around the city say you are a man of science as am I.  You will find the properties of my elixir amazing.  Through years of study and experimentation, I have found an elixir that makes one tell the truth.  The absolute truth.  It is incredible in how it works.  The initial reaction to the body is comparable to that of a powerful intoxicant.  During this time, the subject is very open and cooperative.  The elixir seems to strip away the inhibitions that guide the actions, much the way spirits do.  It is amazing how accommodating the subject becomes.  And what is equally amazing is how quickly the elixir takes affect.  Almost immediately."

"And what is this elixir of yours derived from?" Firouz asked.

"A very rare mushroom grown in the caves outside of Thebes.  It took me decades to perfect the solution of the mixture.  Too much and the subject dies out right.  Too little and the subject is too, for lack of a better word, inebriated to cooperate."

The implication of the man's statement overwhelmed Firouz.  "You experimented on people."

The old scientist gave him a startled look.  "Yes, of course.  How else was I to know if it worked?"

Firouz response was halted by the return of the young nobleman.  He carried a small vial in he right hand.  Brownish liquid swirled inside leaving a grimy film against the clear glass.  He handed it to the old man.

"Good," the old man said with a smile.  "Now if you would be so kind as to take this." He took a step toward Firouz.

Firouz pressed himself against the rough stone of the wall.  "No, I will not."

The old man sighed and shook his head.  He handed the vial back to the young man.  "See that he takes it.  Use what means you deem necessary, but do not kill him."

The young man took the vial with a cruel smile.  "As you wish, sire."

"Regrettable," the old man said walking out the room.  He leaned heavily on his staff as he walked.  The guards closed the door after him.

The young man nodded to Kedel.  The guard slammed Firouz back against the wall.  His head bounced painfully against the rough stones.  Kedal forced Firouz's mouth open.  The young man stepped forward and poured some of the elixir into it.

The vile liquid burned Firouz's mouth and he choked on it.  Kedal loosened his grip and Firouz spit the elixir out into the young nobleman's face.  The brown liquid ran down his face and left dark stains on his white tunic.

The young man wiped his face off on his sleeve.  "You will regret that."

Kedel's fist was the last thing Firouz saw before darkness engulfed him.

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