“Majesty!” Abdul waved his hands. He had changed his costume, now, and appeared in garments which were exclusively seed pearls with ruby and emerald buttons. His turban emitted a slight and graceful plume of smoke, which looked incendiary but—he had explained—was quite safe under all ordinary conditions. “Majesty, it is simple! You, a human, defeated Es-Souk in single combat, hand-to-hand. This was in the night in Barkut. Such a thing has never before happened in the history of the djinn. Today you fought a duel with Es-Souk and detonated him so that no other of the djinn folk was even harmed. Only the King of the Djinns has even been able to destroy a djinn. It has been a thousand years since even our kings have had to resort to this measure, and on the last three occasions—going back more than two thousand years—in each case numerous other djinns died in the holocaust of the execution. And before my own eyes and many others you caused the former king and his councilors to flee and a part of his palace to dissolve. You are, therefore, more powerful than any djinn, you are more merciful than any king of the djinn in the past, and you are victor in a personal contest with the king we had this morning. Therefore you are the king!”
“The logic is elaborate,” said Tony suspiciously, “but it isn’t airtight.”
“Majesty,” repeated Abdul firmly, “you can destroy any of us, or you can spare any of us. Therefore we obey you. And therefore you are the king. It cannot be helped.”
The Queen of Barkut looked at him, smiling.
“Obviously,” she said brightly. “Abdul is quite right. And you can end my captivity if you wish. What rewards we poor humans of Barkut can offer you—”
Tony looked sharply at Ghail. She flushed hotly.
“All right,” said Tony. “So I’m the king. Do we have a civil war, or is my authority unanimously accepted?”
“It is almost unanimous, Majesty,” said Abdul, beaming. “It may be necessary to detonate the former king. That, however, is not yet certain. He has fled with a few of his councilors. They feel that you have a prejudice against them—”
“Intelligent of them,” grunted Tony. “Very well, then! The first thing is to get Ghail and the Queen back to Barkut. Then we’ll start fresh from there. Do you want to arrange matters?”
“For what else,” asked Abdul blandly, “did your Majesty make me your grand vizier?”