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Authors: Bertrice Small

All the Sweet Tomorrows (54 page)

BOOK: All the Sweet Tomorrows
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Niall nodded. “I understand, my friend, but you must promise not to be jealous of me tonight. I shall dedicate myself to the princess, and make her the happiest of women.”

“Do not hurt her, Ashur.” Hamal’s soft brown eyes were filled with concern.

“How can I avoid hurting her, Hamal? If I am to succeed in our plan I must appear to be totally enamored of her. She must be completely certain of me, Hamal. Do not fret, my young friend. It has been my experience that women’s hearts may be bruised, but they are seldom broken. She will appreciate you far more, having been betrayed by me.”

Hamal sighed with regret, but he knew that his companion spoke the truth. Better Ashur love Turkhan well before he made good his escape. Turkhan would be furious that something she desired did not after all desire her, but the time had come for him to make his move; his princess must begin to behave like the woman she was instead of a spoiled tyrant. She might be an Ottoman princess and have more freedom than any other woman save the Sultan’s mother, but she was still a woman. Sultan Selim II was at fault for allowing Turkhan to remain unmarried. Hamal smiled to himself. He would soon change all of that.

They had reached the dining chamber, a lovely rectangular room with half-tiled walls of sky blue and white, above which rose rough white-plaster walls. The dark ceiling beams were intricately carved, and the wide-beamed floors were covered in thick wool rugs woven in a medallion design of gold and deep blue on a dark red background. They entered the room by walking down two steps. Two low, polished ebony tables had been set directly opposite the entry, behind which lay a number of brightly colored cushions in silk, wool, and cotton. The room was lit by large wall torches that had been fitted into carved golden holders. In each corner of the room stood tall gold censers burning pungent incense, and in the center of each table was a low crystal vase filled with fragrant pink lilies.

Turkhan had reached the room only a moment before the two men, and turning, she cried out with delight at their costumes. “You are magnificent, both of you!” she purred with approval.

“And you, my Princess,” Niall murmured almost reverently, “fill my eyes with such incredible and flawless beauty that I am struck blind by the sight.”

Turkhan colored in surprise. “Why, Ashur,” she said softly, “you are beginning to speak like a Persian poet.”

Hamal shifted uncomfortably. He thought that Turkhan was behaving like a young girl. She was almost simpering. Then he realized that he was jealous. Ashur’s very flattering remark had
pleased her before he might even comment. He suddenly realized that Ashur had been not jesting when he warned him not to be jealous of him this evening.

Turkhan did not notice her young favorite’s quiet mood. “Let us seat ourselves before my guest and his women arrive,” she said. Garbed in a cloth of silver djellabah whose deep V neckline and wide sleeves were embroidered with small black pearls and pink sapphires, she was looking quite beautiful this night. Her red-gold hair was dressed in two long narrow braids that were looped up on either side of her face, and a long cape of hair that had been dusted with diamond dust streamed down her back. From her dainty ears hung pink sapphires set in silver.

“Are my brother’s women to join us?” Hamal inquired curiously.

“It did not seem fair that I deny him their company as I have yours, my lamb,” Turkhan said.

“Have you seen them?”

Turkhan laughed. “How well you know me, Hamal. Yes, I watched them through the peephole in their quarters. Both are quite lovely. Tonight if you are very good, my darlings, we shall watch the unsuspecting Kedar as he makes love to his women. I am told that he is considered a highly skilled lover. Perhaps you will both learn something from him that will please me,” she teased them.

Niall felt a chill sweep over him. “You have a secret peephole in the guest quarters?” he asked.

Turkhan laughed. “Of course I do. My grandmother Khurrem said that such things were invaluable when you wish to know more about a guest than they wish to reveal.”

Suddenly the princess’s eunuch majordomo announced, “The lord Kedar, my Princess.”

Turkhan looked lazily up from beneath her thick black lashes as Kedar and his women entered the room. “You are welcome to my house, Kedar ibn Omar,” she said. “Pray be seated so the meal may begin.”

“I am honored by your invitation, Highness. I hope that I may be of assistance to you.” Kedar seated himself, and impatiently waved Skye and Talitha to their seats, one on either side of him.

With a swift look Skye saw Niall on one side of the princess. Her heart leapt almost painfully within her chest, for he did not look well. Quickly she lowered her eyes lest anyone see her anger at the proprietary way in which Turkhan openly caressed Niall.

“You would not be here in my house, Kedar, were I not sure that you could be of assistance to me,” Turkhan said sharply. “Your brother has assured me that your knowledge of trading routes to the coast exceeds that of anyone else in Fez. Hamal has always been trustworthy.”

Kedar felt a surge of impotent anger sweep over him at her bold words. That a mere woman could speak to him in such a tone infuriated him. Ottoman princess or no, if he had her in his power for even a single night he would have her tamed and begging for mercy. Instead, he was forced to give a pleasant reply, but both Hamal and Turkhan had seen the quick anger that had flashed for a moment in his eyes. “I am pleased that my young brother is such a source of joy to you, Highness. I raised him myself.”

Turkhan smiled sweetly, but there was a triumphant look in her eyes that Kedar did not miss, and he ground his teeth in frustration. Seeing that her master was incensed, Talitha leaned forward, took the cup that had been placed before him, and held it to his lips. “Drink, my lord,” she said, and then in a lower tone: “You cannot offend the princess, my lord. Calm yourself, I beg of you.”

Kedar turned to look at Talitha, and he nodded his agreement. He took the cup and drank a long draught of the icy and tart lemon water. “You are wise, Talitha,” he said, “with a wisdom that matches your beauty.” His hazel eyes scanned her, and the anger drained away. She was most beautiful this evening, and her costume extremely flattering, and pleasing to his eye. She was garbed all in sheer pale-gold silk. Her pantaloons were edged at the ankles in tiny sparkling topaz which matched the topaz sewn to her cloth-of-gold hip sash and her satin bolero. She wore a long-sleeved blouse with a soft open neckline that matched her see-through pantaloons. A headdress of gold chains and twinkling topaz formed a fitted cap over her short-cropped curls. She was everything that a woman should be, and Kedar was delighted with her, for he felt she brought honor upon him.

A leg of baby lamb was brought out and offered to them. Next followed saffron rice, artichokes in olive oil and tarragon vinegar, haunch of young gazelle in raisin sauce, pigeon pie, capon with lemon, and new peas with small onions. A platter of sizzling kebobs made of kid, green peppers, and small onions was passed; and blue and white Fezware bowls of yogurt and purple and green olives were set upon each table.

“You will forgive the simplicity of the meal,” Turkhan said.

“A well-cooked meal is never simple,” Kedar replied, “and your cook prepares well.” He opened his mouth to take the piece of lamb that Muna was feeding him. He was feeling expansive now and with the constant attentions of his women, at less of a disadvantage. He beamed benevolently at Muna. Her garb—or lack of it—was as pleasing to him as was the elegance of Talitha. Muna wore diaphanous blush-pink pantaloons with pearl ankle bands. Her hip sash was of pink and silver stripes, and above the waist she was nude. Her small, perfect breasts, their nipples stained with carmine, thrust forward proudly. Her waist-length hair was loose, held only with a narrow silver band at her forehead. For a moment Kedar’s eyes lingered on Muna’s breasts, and he thought of the pleasure she had given him over these last few months, of the pleasure she would give him this night.

Skye’s eyes again stole across the room to feast for a brief moment upon Niall. She knew that he must be feeling foolish in his Eastern dress, and she wished she could tell him how magnificent he appeared with his tanned chest. He looked thinner, and she wondered if he was getting enough to eat, then chided herself for a fool. If only he would look at her instead of paying such outrageous attention to the red-haired princess. Skye thought if her husband touched Turkhan with another intimate touch, or gave her one more secret smile, that she was going to throw herself across the room and strangle the smug bitch! Kedar’s voice snapped her back to her role.

“The princess sets a satisfactory table, but I should far rather feast upon your flesh, my jewel.” His voice was husky with desire.

She raised her sapphire eyes to him, and smiled a slow and seductive smile. “Would you shame me before
that
woman, my lord?” she murmured low. “I am for your pleasure only, and not the eyes of prying voyeurs, my lord.” Her red mouth pouted adorably, and Kedar wanted her desperately. Her pure female fragrance wafted up at him, and he grew dizzy thinking of what it felt like to be deep inside of her.

Niall Burke stared for a second at his wife, and ground his teeth silently as Kedar fondled her with a familiar hand. In his mind he had accepted what Skye had done in order to reach him, but accepting the fact was far different from watching the reality. Hamal’s brother was an attractive man, and obviously a potent one. He openly handled Skye with the pleasure of a man who is fond of his favorite possession; and she seemed to enjoy it. She
smiled seductively at him, and murmured in a low musical voice words that could not be distinguished. Niall wanted to leap the distance between himself and Kedar so he might stick a knife into the bastard’s gullet.

“You are deep in thought, Ashur,” Turkhan’s voice brought him back.

“I dream of tonight, if I dare, my princess.” He touched her face with the back of his hand, smoothing it over her soft skin.

“Tonight,” she whispered conspiratorially, “we shall spy upon our guest, the three of us, and then we shall all play together, my glorious one. I shall exceed your dreams, Ashur, my beloved.”

Boldly Niall leaned forward and kissed her upturned mouth quickly. “Your pardon, my Princess, but I could not resist.”

Turkhan laughed shakily, and tapped his cheek with a long sharp nail in mock chastisement. Then she turned to Kedar. “Which of these women is the one Hamal tells me your uncle in Algiers gave you?” she asked him.

“You may present yourself to the princess,” Kedar said to Skye.

She arose gracefully, walked across the floor, and fell to her knees in total obedience. “Highness, I am Muna,” she said, her head bowed to the floor, her body bent.

“Stand up so I may see you, girl! You are reputed to be most fair, but how can I tell when you are in that position?”

Skye stood up, and posed tall and proud before Princess Turkhan. Her chin was high, her silken hair flowing about her like a dark cape. Her beautiful eyes, however, were lowered lest she offend her hostess.

Turkhan let her glance slide critically over the woman who stood before her. That she was extravagantly beautiful was irritatingly obvious. Her well-shaped limbs were quite visible through the gossamer of her pantaloons, and Turkhan could see that she was finely made. “Where did your uncle obtain such a prize?” she demanded of Kedar.

“She was a captive in Algiers, Highness,” he answered. “It was by chance he saw her, and knew that she would please me, which she well does.”

“You have trained her that quickly?”

“She is of noble birth in her own land, and really quite intelligent,” Kedar replied. They spoke about Skye as if she were not even in the room, or worse, were an inanimate object; and as
they blithely continued to discuss her fine points, Skye let her eyes stray to Niall once more.

Her heart struggled within her as he stared directly back at her, his silvery eyes bright with his longing. She felt tears pricking behind her eyes, and she fought furiously to keep them from showing.
Niall!
She cried his name silently.

Dear God, he thought, how can she be so very beautiful despite everything?
Oh, sweetheart, I want you so much!
If only they might make good their escape this very minute. Instead, he would be forced to watch while another man made love to his wife. If that didn’t drive him mad then nothing ever would.
I love you, Skye
, he said in his heart.

Kedar was holding forth. “Each one of my women has a weakness, Highness. It is always useful to discover what form of pain terrifies. I would never whip Muna, even with a carefully plied lash, for just look at her skin. Turn, my jewel, and let the princess see.” Skye moved obediently, dragging her eyes reluctantly away from Niall. “You see, Highness, the skin is flawless. It would be a crime against Allah himself to destroy such beauty wantonly, and yet still a deterrent is needed. In Muna’s case it is the bastinado. She does not like the bastinado—do you, my jewel?”

“No, my lord,” Skye whispered.

“You have used it on her?” Turkhan was interested.

“Have you ever known a willing captive?” Kedar remarked. “In Muna’s case I must admit that she was a trifle reluctant, but of course that is no longer so—is it, my jewel?”

“Thou sayest, my lord,” Skye replied.

“I prefer the use of opiates and hashish myself,” Turkhan said. “To use physical force upon a slave is an admission of having lost control.” She looked at Skye casually. “You may return to your master, girl. Now my beautiful Ashur was not easy at all—were you, my handsome one? Until recently he fought me at every turn, but then he finally accepted his fate. He has been my joy ever since.”

“A man that powerful could be dangerous, Highness,” Kedar said. “Better he were in the mines, or sat upon an oarsman’s bench in a galley. I wonder that you keep such a creature about.”

“Ashur illustrates my point perfectly, Kedar. I have never physically mistreated him. I have not had to, for my sherbet and special comfits keep him totally under control. If you do not believe me then ask your brother.”

BOOK: All the Sweet Tomorrows
5.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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