The free website to help new writers to develop, and to help talented writers get noticed and published Books


Terms & Conditions
Privacy Policy

Web Design by Zarr

Read Sample Chapters << Back


© Tally

Text Size: Small | Medium | Large         Print Page Print Chapters

YouWriteOn offers publishing for writers to help them reach new readers who like their writing. Click here to email us for details.


Long ago, in what is now the African kingdom of Ethiopia was another very large kingdom called Amhara. The ruler, King Menelik wanted to have a child to succeed him on his throne, but no child arrived although he had been married to his wife the queen for many years. The queen also longed for a child and prayed every night, asking that she should be blessed with one.

One night, a fairy came into the queen’s dreams. She was exquisitely beautiful, and even though the queen was dreaming she could not help but think how the fairy’s black skin made such a wonderful contrast with her blue dress and white wings. The fairy smiled at her, saying that she had been sent by the Goddess of the Night to let her know that her prayers had been answered, and that soon, very soon, she would be blessed with a daughter.

‘Tell me something about my daughter,’ pleaded the queen. ‘Will she be beautiful? Will she become a great queen?’

‘She will have a beautiful mind and heart,’ answered the fairy, ‘aside from her looks. Your daughter will travel the length and breadth of the world as we now know it She will go to some places that most people have only heard of, and other places that few people know about.’

‘Will she have any special talents?’

‘She will be a gifted child, and have a special power. If she prays to the Goddess, there can be night even during the day,’ said the fairy.

‘DARKNESS IN THE DAY?’ The queen was astonished.

‘Yes,’ said the fairy, ‘although only for a very short while.’

‘Of what use is that?’ said the queen.

The fairy smiled, and did not say anything.

‘Oh, gentle fairy, tell me if she will have brothers or sisters,’ the queen said, because she wanted to have a large family.

The fairy said softly, ‘This will be the only child born to you but she won't be short of brothers.’

‘How can that be?’ said the queen in great anxiety now. ‘Will my husband, the king, marry again?’

‘Your daughter will face great obstacles,’ said the fairy, ‘and in order to overcome them she will need the help of some young friends, who will be like brothers to her.’

‘Where will she find…these friends?’ asked the queen.

‘In the Hotlands, in the Wetlands and in Snowlands.’

The queen didn’t even know such places existed.

‘Tell me one more thing,’ begged the queen. ‘What will these hurdles be?’


‘Spectacularly,’ repeated the queen.


‘Scary,’ repeated the queen, feeling worried now.


The fairy’s floaty silk dress started to shimmer, there was a blue flash of light and then she was gone.

When the queen awoke, she rushed to tell her husband what had happened. He was delighted to hear the good news but like the queen anxious to learn of the difficulties that would lie ahead for his new born child. A few weeks later the physicians at the royal palace announced that the queen would have a child in a few months’ time. When the queen told the king that the fairy’s prediction had come true, his joy bubbled inside him like the water in a brook.

He wouldn’t let her work and carry on with her queenly duties to the extent that she wished, because he didn’t want anything to go wrong with her pregnancy. The queen was by nature very active, but now because she didn’t do very much she slept fitfully. She often woke up at hours of the night when only the brown-feathered Eagle Owl kept awake.

‘I wonder who she'll look like,’ she would ask herself during these long, wakeful nights. ‘Like me or like the king?’

While the king snored, the queen would get out of bed and silently drag her chair to the wide window in the room that overlooked the blue waters of the Nila Sumundar. Grasslands stretched ahead beyond the river and then the woods began. She would sit there and wait till the morning when the red apple-like sun came out from behind the mountains. The nights in Amhara were wonderfully starry, and the queen never tired of staring at them.

‘If I had a son, I don’t know what name I would give him,’ she told herself, ‘but as I am going to have a daughter, I know what I'll call her. I'll call her Samravit after my grandmother, who loved me so much. I pray to you, Goddess of the Night, grant my daughter lovely, luminous skin that will glisten like these beautiful nights that I never tire of looking at…’

The day arrived when the queen went into labour. Soon word rushed through the palace that she had been blessed with the most beautiful daughter. Both mother and daughter were safe and well, but the royal physicians gave a warning that the queen would not be able to have any more children. The king had hoped to have a large family, but his initial disappointment was drowned in the downpour of delight that befell him when he looked at his daughter.

And when the queen looked at the bright eyed beauty that lay beside her, her heart burned with love for the child that she had longed for. She saw that her daughter was not only very beautiful but had also been blessed with black, ebony-like skin that shone like the lustrous nights in that kingdom. The Goddess of the Night had granted the queen her wish.

‘Princess Samravit is fittingly regal,’ said the king, approving his wife’s choice of name, ‘but it sounds just a bit harsh for our lovely child. We need something a little softer, sweeter and intimate sounding.’

‘What about Samara?’ asked the queen, as she cradled her daughter in her arm.

‘Samara it shall be,’ the king agreed. ‘This is the best news our kingdom has received this year.’



The king, queen and Samara were truly loved by the people of their country. This is because they cared about their subjects and never put on regal airs or acted snootily. It was in their nature to act in this way, although they had heard about the fate of royal families in far-off lands whose subjects did not like their sovereigns very much and even went to the extent of making fun of them. In those days writers would often engrave or scribble things on blocks of stone known as tablets that were kept in the public square, and people would come and stand in front of them to read about all the latest news and gossip.

Samara was a happy girl, but often felt lonely. She longed to have friends of her own age group to talk to, but the young boys and girls in her kingdom were too much in awe of her royal status to talk and behave freely with her.

‘Oh, I wish I had a sister or brother,’ Samara said these words to herself often. ‘I WISH’

The king and queen worked very hard for the welfare of their people, but because they knew how lonely Samara became, they always found time to go off with their beloved daughter for a holiday to some exotic part of the huge empire that they reigned over. One year they went to see the pyramids of Egypt that had taken a long time to build and had only recently been completed; everyone went to see them.

‘They are magnificent,’ said the king after they had spent an entire afternoon wandering around the huge structures, ‘although I’m not sure if they are very useful for the common people.’

‘That’s exactly what I thought,’ said the queen, because she didn’t think the pyramids were very marvellous. She thought the effort in building them had been wasted; the same people could have been digging ditches or constructing inns for travellers, which would have been far more useful for the community.

Little Samara had never before seen anything as big as the pyramids. They looked like giant anthills. Surely they must be close to touching the sky. What would have happened, she thought, if they had been just a bit bigger and had actually punctured it? Wouldn’t it have been funny to see all the trees, animals and children falling down from another world into her own world?

When they had finished seeing the biggest pyramid, a fat bearded man approached them. He wore a tall pointed hat on his head and a cloak with stars painted on it, even though it was warm outside. His coffee-coloured cloak blended well with the brown of the pyramids. The light brown sand and marmalade sky in the background created a perfect hue of varying shades and made the evening appear magical to Samara.

‘I am Gobi Pasha’ he announced, ‘the world famous fortune-teller. Would you like to have your fortune told, Little Princess?’ And he bent down to look at Princess Samara in a kindly fashion.

‘I think not,’ said the queen in a curt tone. ‘We don’t have time.’

The king didn’t want to cause any offence, so he dug into his pocket, took out two large gold coins and gave them to Gobi.

‘Thank you, great king,’ he said, ‘and for this act of kindness, let me tell you something you need to know.’ The fortune teller’s eyes became very large and round, his face turned towards the sky, and in a voice that no longer seemed to be his own, he said: ‘LISTEN TO ME VERY CAREFULLY.’

The queen was keen to go ahead, but the king and Samara decided to wait. There was something about the manner in which Gobi had uttered the last sentence that froze them like statues on the spot.

‘Be careful,’ cried Gobi, in the same voice. ‘Be VERY careful. Dark forces are at work. You, your family and your kingdom are in danger.’

‘From whom?’ cried the king.

‘Zooooooooooooooooooooo.’ And Gobi Pasha suddenly began to whirl round and round without answering the king’s question.

‘Oh, do come along,’ cried the queen, and she tugged at Samara and her husband’s hand.

‘What did the man mean by ‘dark forces’ Father?’ asked Samara.

‘Nothing, my dear,’ said the king, but he looked worried. Gobi’s words had shaken him. He recollected the predictions the fairy had made to his wife, even if the queen had forgotten them.

‘He was clearly mad,’ said the queen.

The following year, the king took them south to Shanti Jheel, a huge lake. It was difficult for Samara to believe that they had come to a lake because it seemed to be as large as any sea. On that visit the princess came across the most beautiful place she had ever seen in her life. After they had spent a few hours travelling on a boat on the lake, looking at all the wonderful birds that lived in the surrounding forests that came out to greet them, they went to see the tallest mountain of the region. It took them very many hours on horseback before they were able to reach their destination, but it was well worth the tiring journey. Samara was awe-struck by her first glimpse of the snow peaks of Uncha Parbat. The king and queen had been there several times previously and the sight of snow was nothing new for them, but the young princess was enchanted and stared with her mouth open in wonder at the white, glistening peaks.

The king remembered that Samara’s birthday was coming up and said, ‘What would you like for your birthday, my dear?’

Samara thought that if she couldn’t have a brother, the next best thing would be to have a pet, and of all the animals that she knew of in Africa her favourite was the horse. ‘I’d very much like to have a horse, Papa,’ she said, ‘but it must be a very fast horse.’

‘It shall be a horse and the fastest known to man,’ her father assured her.

True to his word, the king gave his daughter a horse on her thirteenth birthday. It was the fastest horse that anyone had seen for as long as he or she could remember.

Samara fell in love with the graceful creature from the moment she set eyes on him. His colour was flawless white, his silky mane glistened in the sun, and when he raced across the fields everyone who watched him was left no doubt that he was indeed the fastest horse in the entire world. His bearing conveyed a grace and nobility of carriage that few humans possessed.

‘What are you going to call him?’ her father asked.

‘His colour reminds me of the peaks of Uncha Parbat,’ said Princess Samara, thinking hard. ‘I know,’ and she snapped her fingers decisively. ‘He will be Barado!’ For barado was the word for snow.

So it came to be that the white steed, the fastest horse in the whole world, was known as Barado. Samara spent all her time with the horse, so that when people saw them they would say, ‘Oh, there's Princess Samara with her trusted trotter Barado.’

Samara had a special relationship with Barado because she could understand whatever he said, although no one else could. When Barado spoke, everyone except Samara heard it as a neighing sound, but she could hear what he said in the form of human speech – a rich baritone, actually.

When the king gave the horse to Samara, he hadn’t realised that she wanted to travel the length and breadth of his kingdom – but that is indeed what she wanted to do.

‘We have a large empire, Papa and Mama,’ said Samara, when the subject came up for discussion during breakfast, ‘and to know it well I need to visit not only all the important towns and cities but also some of the smaller villages.’

Her father spooned some atmit, an Ethiopian porridge mix, into his mouth and didn’t say anything.

Samara pressed on. ‘People start to feel neglected over a period of time if they don’t receive important visitors from the capital. And there are cities and towns that haven’t been visited for years. The people in those places will feel honoured by my visit. If they have any problems they can tell me about them, and I can let you know what they are when I return.’

The king frowned, but he couldn’t deny the truth of his daughter’s argument that there would be political and diplomatic advantages attached to her travels. At the same time, he was reluctant to grant her permission to go, and therefore spooned another portion of atmit into his mouth in silence.

‘The other thing, dear Mama,’ said Samara, turning to her mother for support, ‘is that poor Barado needs some exercise. All animals need exercise, but Barado more than others, because he's the fastest horse in the world, isn't he? He needs to keep running long distances every day if he is to continue to be the fastest horse in the world.’

‘Well, he could just keep running in circles round the race track,’ said the king, who had finished with his atmit and had now found a matter to debate with his daughter.

‘But Papa!’ protested Samara. ‘That would just be a waste of running!’

‘You need to be accompanied by armed soldiers on horseback for your safety,’ said the king. ‘My worry is that if you ride on Barado, unless you go very slowly, the other horses will not be able to keep up with you, and I need to be sure you are always safe.’ The king cleared his throat. ‘So will you ask Barado to gallop very slowly?’

‘Oh, I’m sure he won’t like that at all,’ said Samara. ‘If he gallops very slowly, we’ll only be able to visit very few places.’

The king fell silent and thought a lot. His daughter waited patiently for him to come to a conclusion.

‘All right, you can go,’ he said, to the queen’s surprise and his daughter’s delight. He paused. ‘But before you start to travel you'll need to learn how to whistle for Khabar and how to write long messages on small pieces of parchment.’

Khabar was a falcon that had been trained to keep messages written on parchment safe inside his beak and carried it across vast distances.

Blessed with super vision if Khabar glided over a town or city, he could make out in a flash where each inhabitant stood. And so, even without the princess whistling to let him know where she was at a particular time, if he knew that she was in a certain town or city, he could always find her out.


If Princess Samara had a weakness, it was her love for food. Her fondness for desserts in particular led her to put on weight, which gave her a cuddly look when she was very small but did not suit the young princess as she grew older. Her parents saw this, but did not have the heart to tell her to curtail her appetite. But something happened to change her thoughts on the subject of food.

During one of her long distance trips with Barado, Princess Samara reached a village where the people all looked very thin and weak as if they hadn’t eaten for days.

She entered one of the houses in the village to find a lavish spread waiting for her, for the people all over the kingdom knew of her fondness for good food. The princess suspected that something was wrong, and marched straight into the kitchen to find that there was nothing to eat inside. That year due to scant rainfall there had been a failure of the crops in that part of Amhara. The family had decided to go hungry just to make sure that the princess could have a fine meal.

‘Why don’t you share your problems with me?’ cried out the princess, who found that she could simply not eat anything.

She climbed back on Barado and they raced back to the capital to let the king know what had happened. King Menelik didn’t hesitate to at once use the gold kept in the treasury of the otherwise prosperous kingdom to help out the people of that area.

The next time the princess sat down to have a meal, she ate well but decided to keep a little empty space in her stomach just to remember that there were people in the world who didn’t have enough to eat.

When the people learnt of this small sacrifice, their love for the princess grew even more.

As a result of her new resolution the fat in the princess’s body started to melt away and a slimmer, stronger, and more beautiful princess emerged.



An evil wizard called Zoozoo ruled over a neighbouring land, which in his arrogance he had named after himself as Zoozooland.

He fancied himself to be a man with literary taste, and had written out a song for his followers to sing in his honour.

‘Zoo zoo be doo,’ went the song. ‘Zoo zoo be doo.’

And his followers, who were mostly paid soldiers, would push forward their hands and legs in robotic fashion.

‘Zoo zoo be doo. Zoo zoo be doo.’ They sang, and they danced.

And Zoozoo clapped with pleasure and shouted out: ‘Zalzala! Zalzala!’

No one knew exactly what this meant, but he used this expression frequently.

Zoozoo stood tall at almost eight feet, and always wore white shoes and a white tunic, but his thick, long beard was yellow. His green eyes glittered like emeralds. He didn’t care about his subjects at all. He taxed the poor heavily, and if they could not pay the taxes they were thrown into prison. Protesters were killed on the spot, and their bodies were then cut into pieces and fed to the crows and vultures. His subjects were terrified of him, because he practised black magic and knew how to cast many fearful spells.

His subjects would have rebelled against him a long time ago had they known that his army was small, but he managed to make people believe that he was all powerful and that certain death awaited those who chose to defy him. So the poor people toiled away in the wizard’s factories, pushing and pulling levers all day long.

How did Zoozoo manage to fool all the people all of the time?

‘Zalzala!’ he would shout, and fix his green glittering eyes upon them.

And anyone who saw him would fall into a temporary trance.

Even with all his black magic and glittering hypnotic skills, Zoozoo would not have been able to keep his subjects in such submissive acceptance of slavery had it not been for the fact that he fed them a special concoction called gulgula. Every week the contents of two or three buckets of gulgula were poured into the Kaala Pani Lake that provided water to the inhabitants of Zoozooland, and this substance dulled their minds and their ability to think clearly. (The lake had received so much gulgula over the years that it was probably fully poisoned by now, but for good measure the wizard still threw in a few buckets of gulgula every week.)

Zoozoo was jealous of the good king that ruled Amhara, but he was scared to attack King Menelik because the latter had a strong and powerful army. The wizard himself had a small force, because he had sent so many able-bodied men to their death on the merest suspicion that they were in some way disloyal to him.

Unable to contain his jealousy, and keen to rule over more territory, the evil wizard thought hard about how he could destroy King Menelik. One day he thought of a plan.

* * *

‘My master Zoozoo has sent me to you,’ the meek messenger began, when he received audience with the king and queen of Amhara, ‘to beg you to come to Nark, the capital of Zoozooland.’

‘And what's the occasion?’ asked King Menelik, and because he did not have a high impression of Zoozoo and knew of his wastefulness added: ‘A grand birthday party, I suppose?’

‘No, Your Highness,’ said the messenger. ‘There is to be an international summit of kings and queens from around the world. They want to discuss co-operation between the kingdoms to improve the lot of the people.’ And he bowed his head, waiting for the king’s response.

Zoozoo was confident his plan would work, because he knew that the king was always thinking about the welfare of his people.

‘I’m a bit suspicious,’ the queen murmured into the king’s ear. ‘That White Wizard is not to be trusted.’

The king, however, allayed her fears by softly saying to her, ‘We'll keep our troops just outside Zoozoo’s kingdom and instruct golden bird, Khabar, to let the commander-in-chief know if anything should go wrong.’

And with that assurance the queen’s doubts were quelled, for she then thought, 'What could possibly go wrong?'

‘Go tell your master,’ said the king, ‘that we will come.’

The messenger retreated, relieved to hear the news, for he feared punishment at the hands of the White Wizard, had he been unsuccessful in his mission.

* * *

When the king and queen reached the wizard’s kingdom they were greeted with great fanfare with brass bugles and pointy pipes playing in their honour, but they noticed that the poor performers wore tattered togs and looked as though they hadn’t eaten for days.

Zoozoo showed them to their chambers in his palace, as they were both tired after their long journey. After his guests had bathed and rested and had taken some refreshment, he took them on a tour of the palace.

‘What do you think of the lighting in my palace?’ said Zoozoo, as he took them inside a brightly lit chamber.

‘Oh,’ said the king.

‘Ohhh,’ said the queen.

The wizard was pleased to see the astonished look on the king and queen’s faces when they saw how the interior of his palace was brightly lit without the presence of a single candle. A cool breeze wafted through the corridors of the palace. Only those who knew black magic could create such illumination and cooling. Spells were needed to harness the energy created by a thousand slaves pulling enormous levers every day. The king was dismayed by the thought of how long the poor slaves must have had to labour for this result, when a few dozen candles and handheld fans would have worked just as well.

The last part of the tour took the visitors to a large outbuilding besides the palace. Inside this lay the wizard’s latest magical contraption that had cost the labour of five hundred thousand labourers working twenty-two hours every day for six hundred days continuously, without so much as a weekend break.

‘And what do you think of THIS?’ said Zoozoo.

It was a silky, gleaming, magnificent flying chariot.

The chariot was actually a large carpet, but with the edges rolled up to form a large box that was spacious enough to have two seats in the front and two at the back. A glass window screen was propped up in front and there were two windows on either side of the vehicle to stop the wind from disturbing the driver and his passengers when the flying carpet soared through the air. The entire contraption stood on four silver-painted wheels.

The queen was breathless with admiration, but knowing her husband’s views she offered only faint praise.

‘I've given this magical device a name,’ said Zoozoo. ‘Three names came to my mind: Mercotola, Chevrotola and Uran Khatola, and I've decided it will be the last of these – Uran Khatola.’ He bowed. ‘How do you like that, Your Highness?’

‘Where are all the other guests?’ the king wanted to know, because he was never one to be impressed with rulers who thought too much of their personal comfort. He silently lamented the waste of precious labour in creating a luxury item of little public benefit.

‘They are waiting for us,’ lied the evil wizard. ‘It’s better to have such an important event in an isolated area where kings and queens can be wined, dined and entertained lavishly without the dirty unwashed masses looking on enviously. Will not the staring strays spoil our savouring?’ He looked to the king for approval because he knew the king was a man with literary tastes, and he thought that what he had said about stray dogs was a shining example of his ability to use language with great felicity.

The king was upset when he heard what Zoozoo had to say and would have spoken out angrily, but the queen begged him to hold his temper as after all they were in a foreign land.

The wizard did not notice anything untoward and carried on with his explanation. ‘I've chosen a wonderful venue to discuss the plight of the poor Wetlanders,’ he continued. ‘There’s a new palace I have built, using the best blue marble, which lies just next to the sea.’ He looked hard at the king and queen for signs of mistrust, because it would have upset his plans if they had refused to co-operate with him. Seeing that they did not seem to be suspicious, however, he added confidently, ‘It’s a beautiful place, where I am sure you will be comfortable and, as I said before, we shall not be disturbed by the annoying antics of the poor and piteous.’

Once again the king became upset when he heard this, and at this point would have gone back to his kingdom immediately, but once again the queen calmed him down. ‘Let’s not forget how the poor starving people of Wetlands need our help,’ she whispered, and seeing the truth of her argument the king nodded and reigned in his temper. Actually, the queen felt that the king was being a little too virtuous. She couldn’t help admiring the Uran Khatola and longed to have a ride in it.

At the wizard’s bidding, they both climbed into the Uran Khatola and off they went, with the white wizard at the wheel, the king beside him, and the queen at the back of the chariot, enjoying the sensation of the wind flapping in her hair.

After they had flown for an hour or so, they reached a huge lake. Zoozoo pointed this out to the king, explaining that the lake provided the water supply to the country, and that soon they would be able to see the palace that Zoozoo had spoken about, which lay just a mile or so from the Laal Sea. It was then that the king realised that his soldiers standing on duty outside the wizard’s kingdom would no longer be able to come to their rescue, because no one had anticipated that boats could be needed in a rescue attempt. The king decided not to say anything about this to the queen. They continued to fly alongside the coast and saw the passing gulls and sea birds looking at them curiously. Soon the contours of the Blue Palace became visible.

The Uran Khatola slowed down to begin its descent, and landed on a wide avenue just in front of the palace. The roadway continued lengthways through the main façade until it reached two towers that rose at the end of the building.

‘Those towers are so high,’ remarked the queen. ‘Do you keep anything inside them or are they just for show?’

‘There is a suite in each tower, and I have something very valuable that I keep inside them,’ said the wizard, with a smug expression. ‘Something that needs to be kept secure.’

The king and the queen marvelled at the beauty of the palace, but wondered why they couldn’t see any of the guests.

‘The guests?’ said the wizard in response to a question. ‘Oh, they are all waiting for us inside the palace.’

‘But their chariots are not parked anywhere outside,’ protested the queen.

‘Inside a space beneath the palace, my dear,’ answered the wizard craftily.

‘A space beneath the palace?’ repeated the queen in astonishment, for she had never heard of such a thing. Not wanting to show her ignorance, however, she added, ‘Oh, I see. I see.’

Zoozoo stepped forward in front of the main door to the Blue Palace, and from inside the pockets of the long white tunic that he wore he took out a glittering Golden Key that he inserted into the keyhole, and slowly turned it.

‘Why do you need to open the door with a key,’ asked the king, ‘if everyone is already inside waiting for us?’

‘Come, come,’ said Zoozoo in a soothing tone. ‘Only come inside, and all will be revealed soon. I promise.’

When they entered the palace they saw that they had come into a hall full of a maze of mirrors, and didn’t know where to turn. They followed the wizard past a lengthy corridor into another hall that seemed like a hotel suite, for there were two beds and all manner of fresh fruit kept in a silver tray on a central table.

‘There are more things to eat in the kitchen,’ said the wizard. ‘As a matter of fact, there is enough food there to last for several months. You will want to know why, of course?’

At this point he quickly stepped out of the room and the king and queen saw to their horror that the wizard had turned the key and had locked them inside.

‘Ha, ha, ha,’ said the wizard, grinning through the glass doors. ‘The reason that there is food stored in the kitchen for several months is because you won’t be seeing anyone for a long long time.’

‘You won’t get away with this,’ shouted the king.

‘Oh, I will, I will,’ said the wizard. ‘I’ve tricked you, haven’t I? Both of you have fallen into my trap, so how can you say I won’t get away with it? I have already got away with it!’

‘Our army is on standby, ready to invade if we don’t return,’ warned the king.

‘Do you think I hadn’t realised that?’ said the wizard. ‘You must think I have a peanut sized brain! I know about your army. The door to this palace can be opened only with this Golden Key, and I’ve put so many hexes on it that no one other than myself can ever use it.’ He gave a gleeful laugh. ‘I don’t keep it with me. It is not only the key to the Blue Palace but also the key to the Magic Gate that keeps the waters of the Kaala Pani Lake from flowing into the sea, which keeps my people in such good health. My faithful dog Jhabru guards it carefully, and no one can mess with him, no sir, he is a tough and nasty creature. Even if someone did somehow manage to take the Golden Key away from Jhabru, that person would need to deal with my spells. MY SPECTACULAR SPELLS. MY SCAAAAARY SPELLS. Someone might possibly break one of the spells but there is not one, not two but THREE SPELLS.’ He paused and gave a satisfied smirk. ‘So you see, my dears, there is simply no hope for you.’

‘You evil monster!’ shouted the king.

‘No need to boil the blood in your body, my dear sir,’ said the wizard, smiling, ‘or to throw out hot air from your ears. By tomorrow evening your army will be rendered useless, and the people of your country will forget that you have ever existed. I have ways of making sure this happens.’ Zoozoo glanced at his gold watch, because he now had an appointment with his sister. ‘I’m afraid I have to go somewhere, so I will leave you both here – but I will come to see you again. I’m sure you will find the suite spacious and comfortable.’ He sniggered. ‘Although, of course, you might find it a bit cramped after a while, considering that you will have to spend the rest of your miserable lives inside it.’

So saying, the wizard turned on his heels and left.



Zoozoo went to his sister, the Churail because he now needed to collect a mass of gulgula that would drug King Menelik’s army as well as the people of Amhara. He reached her house in less than an hour, flying in the Uran Khatola.

‘Oh, it’s my darling brother.’

The Churail cackled in pleasure when she saw her brother’s vehicle parked outside her home as she guessed that all had gone according to their evil plans. She poured some mice mustard and toad tonic over the drink of White Dog to spice it up, for that’s how her brother liked his drink.

‘I cannot stay long, sister.’ Zoozoo patted the Churails claws by way of greeting and explained that he had to hurry to complete various tasks in hand. He quickly piled four buckets of gulgula on to his flying machine.

‘Have you captured the king and queen of Amhara?’ asked the Churail.

‘Yes, yes, I have them where I want them,’ laughed Zoozoo.

‘I have your drink ready, brother,’ said the Churail. ‘You must be tired. Drink up your evil energiser.’

‘Could you first please open a window?’ the wizard boomed, annoyed at his sister’s habit of keeping all the windows closed leaving her house in a state of darkness.

‘No problem, Zoozoo dear,’ said the Churail, and at once she opened a large window to let the sunlight in.

The white wizard took a gulp of White Dog – to enhance his evil energies, the Churail insisted – and explained to his sister that after a short stop at Nark, he would steer his chariot towards Amhara. He knew that as long as Princess Samara remained there despite the drug in the kingdom’s water supply and the hypnotic qualities of his green, glittering eyes, the people of Amhara would not forget her. For his dastardly plan to succeed, he had to get rid of her, one way or another.

This should be as simple as roasting a rat in one of my sister’s cauldrons, he thought, as he gleefully rubbed his hands together. Or even easier. Like frying a fly or boiling a bug. After all, there’s no way on earth that the princess can know what has happened to her parents. All she knows is that they are enjoying themselves at a party for kings and queens. It will be a simple matter to capture her and that white horse of hers. He took another swig of White Dog from the bottle the Churail had handed him and laughed.

‘No one on earth can rescue the king and the queen,’ said Zoozoo, and he told his sister of the enormous difficulties that he had put in the way of any attempt to do so. As the Churail listened to her brother, however, neither of them knew that Khabar, who was perched just outside on the windowsill, was listening to everything.

‘I’ve never seen you so happy,’ the Churail twittered. ‘The dark princess will soon join her parents in the Blue Palace.’

‘Oh, yes, dear sister.’ Zoozoo stood up to his full height. ‘That’s indeed the next stage of the plan, although before I do that I’ll see Jhabru the dog and leave the Golden Key in safe keeping with him.’ He laughed.

‘So clever!’ tittered the Churail. ‘My darling brother!’

Zoozoo said goodbye to the Churail and strode to the Uran Khatola, his green eyes glittering with malicious mischief. He climbed into the machine and started the engine.

‘Once I have captured the princess and put her in the Blue Palace, together with her parents, the three of them will rot till their bones become brittle!’ he said aloud. ‘Zalzala! He complimented himself on his literary expressions because at that moment there were none of his acolytes surrounding him to praise him.

The Uran Khatola zoomed through the air, with Zoozoo chuckling to himself about the imminent success of his plans.




While all these events had been taking place, back in Amhara, Princess Samara had a very disturbed night. She had bad dreams and woke up several times in the night. She wondered if her parents were well. Not knowing what had taken place, she decided she would send Khabar to them in the morning to find out how they were, and then tried to get back to sleep.

Just a few minutes before midnight, a fairy came to her in her dreams. It was the most beautiful fairy Samara had ever seen. She spoke softly, but her words sent a chill of fear through Samara.

‘Dear princess,’ she said, ‘I have come to warn you that your parents are in mortal danger. The hard task of rescuing them has fallen to you, my child, so listen very carefully to what I have to say. You must leave for Wetlands by noon tomorrow at the latest. There you will meet a young boy, with a black mole on his chin, who will help you to rescue your parents provided you are good and generous. You must also visit the Hotlands and Snowlands. In both these places you will find a boy who will be like a brother to you and who will help you to rescue your parents, just like the boy you will meet in Wetlands.’

So saying she vanished, before an astonished and grief-stricken Samara had time to ask her any questions.

The next morning Samara discussed her dream with Barado.

‘Do you think it was only a dream, Barado?’ she asked.

Barado shook his head.

‘You mean you think that all that the fairy said is really true and that my parents are truly in danger?’

Barado nodded his head mournfully.

A steely look entered Samara’s eyes. The fear she had felt till now was replaced by anger. She held that anger, knowing that she needed a resolute determined mind but that careful steps were needed. If the king and queen could have seen her now, they would not have seen soft and sweet Samara but strong spirited Princess Samravit. She looked up at the blue skies and tilted her chin upwards in readiness for battle.



‘What shall we do, Barado?’ said Samara.

‘There is nothing for it,’ said Barado. ‘We must leave immediately. Come, sit on me, my princess. We shall be in Wetlands before sunset.’

The princess climbed on top of Barado and they galloped away. He galloped, and he galloped...

Publish your book and reach new readers on - programmed with Arts Council funding - includes free paperback publishing options. Click here to visit


Adverts provided by Google and not endorsed by