[ IP ] Fit for a king .

The Sultan had decided that he needed a new rug. 
 
 Of course this was a momentous occasion that brought all the merchants and traders from the Bazaars of Sidon and beyond. For not only would the Sultan pay a very generous sum for a rug he deemed worthy, but one who found favor with the Sultan would see his business grow exceptionally. `` Fit for the Feet of a King!'' a merchant could boast, increasing his prices as much as he liked while growing rich on the profits that the royal endorsement would bring. Tradesmen from across the land flooded into the entrance of the Sultan's palace, setting their best rugs up against walls, across balconies, and sprawled out across the floor. Many a suspicious glance and mischievous grin were shared around the room as the merchants prepared for the afternoon's showing, shouting and bartering for the best viewing spots. Through the course of a morning, the palace lobby had transformed into a living, breathing Bazaar. The smell of freshly cooked kebab and the sound of beautiful music played by hired musicians floated through the air as the Sultan and his ever-present advisers strode towards the palace lobby. The Sultan moved with a sense of purpose and a focused, somewhat serious expression on his face. 
 
 
 In many kingdoms, a king entering a room would be met by total silence out of fear and/or respect. This was not the case with the merchants of Sidon. At the sight of the Sultan, the room exploded into chaos as the hopeful vendors all began to peddle their wares at once. 
 
 `` Great Sultan! See my expertly hand-crafted rugs, it took master artisans 10 years to create each of these, thousands of threads!'' 
 
 `` Masterful Sultan, I know your tastes are excellent enough to appreciate these exotic floor coverings, weaved in interesting patterns from the island of Tārūt!'' 
 
 `` Sultan, forgive the insolence of these peasants with their mediocre rugs. They should know a man such as yourself requires only the *finest*. I have for you rugs taken straight from the Mesopotamian royal palace. Know what it means to truly walk upon the conquered!'' 
 
 `` Sultan! Knotted! Flat-Weave! Embroidered! Anything you'd like, I have it! Great prices!'' 
 
 The merchants fought to be heard, struggling to push past one another with armfuls of rugs. The Sultan patiently eyed each trader and their bundles of textiles. Eventually he began taking rugs by hand from the grovelling merchants, and looking them over before throwing them upon the floor in heaps, in the ultimate disgrace. One by one, the disheartened merchants began to move off to the sidelines, waiting until the choice was made to recover their rejected rugs. The Sultan cleared through almost the entire room, occasionally pointing rugs out to his watchful advisers, only to have them shake their heads disapprovingly and adding to the growing covering of misplaced rugs that had begun to fill the room. The last merchant stood near the entrance to the palace, at the opposite end of where the Sultan had entered. If not for the balcony atop which his rugs sat, it would have been a very poor spot indeed. The Sultan spoke: 
 
 `` Why did you choose here, so far from where I would enter?'' 
 
 The dark skinned merchant smiled, his teeth white as the sand of the beaches of Aben. 
 
 `` I knew the Sultan was wise enough to see every carpet before choosing, and this way you are certain that you have found the right choice, having deemed the other choices inferior.'' 
 
 The sultan smiled back. `` Where are you from?'' 
 
 The merchant looked off into the distance wistfully. `` I am Batik, from the Ziggurauts of Zanzibar'' 
 
 `` Well then, Batik of Zanzibar, show me your wares.'' 
 
 Batik waved to his assistant at the top of the balcony, who quickly unfurled the rugs. The largest one was larger than the balcony was high, the topmost portion was hidden from view as a result. It was a massive beast of a rug, with tiny, intricate details and designs. Earthy tones and mesmerizing patterns dominated the rug, creating a masterful lattice of artistic handiwork. The Sultan could not hide an expression of pleasure at the sight, and his advisers began to speak. 
 
 `` Sultan, this is much better than the ones we have seen so far'' 
 
 `` It's the perfect size for the antechamber!'' 
 
 `` I think it would be worth the sum he would ask us for.'' 
 
 The sultan did n't need convincing. `` Quite the rug, Batik of Zanzibar. Let me see the next one as well.'' 
 
 With another wave of his hand, the assistants at the top of the balcony heaved the first, large rug out of the way to reveal a smaller, but much more vibrant piece. Almost like an eye, a small blue pupil, an orange iris, and ringed by blue once more, this rug really stood out to the Sultan. Again the advisers began to whisper. 
 
 `` So vibrant!'' 
 
 `` The colours...'' 
 
 `` Worth every penny, I think.'' 
 
 Again, the Sultan was impressed by the quality and design of the rug. `` Zanzibar has quite the artistry!'' said the Sultan as the merchants made mental notes to purchase from zanzibar more often. 
 
 `` What else do you have for me?'' 
 
 `` Just one more rug, Sultan.'' 
 
 `` Well then, bring it out!'' 
 
 With another wave of his hand, another rug came unfurling from the balcony. This rug was red and black in colour, with vibrant purple snaking across it, as well as a large image of a pair of copulating humans. The Sultan began to laugh, a deep, hearty laugh that soon had the whole room laughing along. 
 
 `` That's quite the tapestry you've got there, Batik of Zanzibar!'' 
 
 `` It's part of a grand collection, this rug has been in the room of many young princes before they tied the knot.'' 
 
 The Sultan smiled a wide smile. 
 
 `` Then it shall be in my son's chamber when he is of age, I'll take all three!'' 
 
 While the defeat hurt, especially having to pick up and sort all their discarded rugs, the merchants were impressed by the quality of the rugs, and the ability of Batik. They waited for him outside the palace after he had been paid. 
 
 `` Where did you find such wonderful rugs?'' asked one 
 
 `` How much did you get for them?'' inquired another. 
 
 Batik smiled. 
 
 `` For the three of them, I received fifteen hundred gold pieces.'' 
 
 `` What? Why so little? You could have easily asked for twice as much.'' 
 
 `` He offered me twice as much'' replied Batik as he loaded his camels `` but I did not want to curse my luck by being greedy. After all, I am already making another six thousand from this trade.'' 
 
 The merchants were perplexed. `` Six thousand!?!?'' they asked, `` How?'' 
 
 `` Well that ties in to how I got the rugs in the first place. After a heated debate on my abilities as a salesman I had bet the prince of Zanzibar six thousand gold pieces that I could not sell the rug from his lustful youth bedchamber to the choosiest man in the Arabic Empire.'' Batik smiled. `` Which of course is the Sultan of Sidon. I slipped it into a truly valuable pair of rugs I bought from the prince's mother.'' 
 
 `` How did you know selling it as a collection would work?'' asked a merchant as Batik mounted his camel. Batik smiled wickedly. 
 
 `` I did n't.'' 
 
 And with that, Batik kicked his camel into action, his coin purse heavy and his pride intact. 
 

