The Love Slave (18 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

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“Second wife? How many wives does yer sire hae?” Zaynab was not certain whether or not to be shocked. Were Moors like the Saxons in Angleland? Saxons were known to take several wives.

“My father has only two wives. He is a very romantic man, and will but marry for love. He has a harem of concubines, however, to keep himself from becoming bored. There are perhaps a dozen women in it. ’Tis considered a small harem. The caliph has a hundred or more women for his personal pleasure,” Karim told her, “and there are several thousand ladies living in the caliph’s harem.”


Several thousand?
” Zaynab was astounded. “How do ye expect that I shall attract the attention of this mighty ruler amongst all those others, my lord? He shall nae see me. I will die friendless and alone!”

“The women in Abd-al Rahman’s harem are not all concubines,” he reassured her. “Many are serving women like your
own Oma. Some are family members: aunts, cousins, daughters. Only those hundred or more women are for the caliph’s delectation. Besides, you are a Love Slave, a rare creature. You will be presented in a charming spectacle to your new master, along with the other gifts Donal Righ is sending. Abd-al Rahman will but see you once to desire you forever, I promise.”

“Is the caliph a young man?” she asked.

“Nay, but neither is he an old man, Zaynab. He is a man of great experience in sensual matters. He is yet vigorous as a lover, having fathered three children in the last two years. He is also a wise and great ruler, both beloved and respected by his people. Ahh, here is Oma.” He turned to the girl. “Did you scent the water as your mistress instructed you?”

“Aye, my lord,” she replied. Then placing the silver basin by the bed, she hurried from the chamber.

Zaynab did not need tutelage a second time. Taking up one of the love cloths, she bathed his manhood. Then lying back, she allowed him to do the same for her.

When he had finished, he said, “Are you hungry, my jewel?”

She nodded vigorously. “Are ye?”

“Aye, I am! Instructing you is hard work,” he teased.

“Learning is equally tiring,” she countered “I will call Oma again and hae her bring us food”

“If you are tired, perhaps you should rest first,” he suggested.

“Oh, nay, my lord,” she said “I would regain my strength, and then continue learning everything that you can teach me.”

He chuckled “Tell Oma I would have a bowl of oysters. They are an excellent restorative.”

“Then I will hae them too,” she replied laughing. “Yer a hard master, my lord, but I will keep up wi’ ye, I promise.”

“Aye, I think you will,” he told her, thinking as he did that the months to come would not be easy ones for him. The feelings this girl engendered in him were far different from those he had ever felt for any other woman. Was he falling in love
with her? Because if he was, he must not. She could never really be his. He reminded himself that his possession of her body was but in order to train her, as one would train an animal, so that she would know how to give another man supreme pleasure. To love her, or to encourage her to love him, would be dishonorable. Such behavior would bring shame on them all.

The School of Passion Masters in Samarkand no longer existed. He had been one of its last pupils, for the masters in his day had been ancient in years, and were now all dead. There had been none left to take their places. Mankind in general did not appreciate the arts of love any longer. Most cared little for the niceties. They knew naught of the supreme pleasures of love. They had passed on their knowledge to their last few pupils, then vanished from the face of the earth as if they had never even existed.

No one knew when the Passion Masters had come into existence. At the school there had been vague tales of the priests and priestesses of some ancient love goddess, but whatever the truth, the school was gone. He was one of the last Passion Masters remaining. He knew of no more than half a dozen scattered about the world. The others of his kind were in the Far East. That was why Love Slaves were so highly prized by connoisseurs in al-Andalus; why they were so few in number at all.

The disaster with the girl, Leila; his feelings for Zaynab; all served to convince him that he was no longer capable of practicing his art. He would settle down as a merchant of rare goods. When he had thoroughly schooled Zaynab for Donal Righ and presented her to the caliph, he would take a wife, as his family wanted him to do. The bride would naturally be a virgin. He could amuse himself teaching her, and those other women who would people his harem;
but never again would he school a Love Slave
.

Zaynab was clever, intelligent for a woman, and quick to learn. A year, no more. In that time he would have taught her what she needed to know to please the caliph; to survive in the
world of the harem. He would present her to Abd-al Rahman, and that would be the end of it He would never think of Zaynab again.
Never!

Part II
I
FRIQIYA
A.D. 943–944
Cha
p
ter 6

I
’timad
rode low at her berth. The dark waters of the river Liffey lapped about her sleek body like a lover caressing his beloved. She was a beautiful ship, some two hundred ten feet in length, with a width of thirty feet. Her cargo capacity was one hundred twenty tons. This day her hold was filled to capacity with the gifts Donal Righ intended to send to the caliph along with Zaynab. They would be presented to Abd-al Rahman in a demonstrative spectacle of almost theatrical proportions.

Three of the items would be purchased for the Celtic merchant by Karim al Malina in Ifriqiya, thereby saving their transport from Eire. It was also impossible to obtain those particular gifts in Eire. Donal Righ had paid for the hire of the Moor’s entire vessel, including a generous stipend to Karim al Malina’s crew, who would have otherwise shared in the profits of a cargo sold.

Toward the stern of the ship was the galley, located below the deck and accessible by a ladder from above or below. It was a small room with a tiled roof. For cooking there was a tiled firebox, open in front and set upon a bed of clay and clay fragments. Small iron bars formed a grill. The galley also held a cupboard for tableware. Cooking utensils, cheese in netting, strings of onions and garlic, a bag of apples, and another of flour hung from the narrow rafters. Above the grill was a small shelf holding a bowl of salt and a bowl of saffron. In a small, tight corner was a pen with half a dozen squawking chickens and three ducks.

There were two stern decks. Upon the forward one had been
built the captain’s cabin. It was a simple room with a double bunk, a single bunk, a table, and several chairs. It had only one entrance, and a window that could be shuttered at night or in poor weather.

Behind the cabin was a smaller deck half shaded by an awning, with chairs that had been set up to give the two women their privacy while allowing them to get fresh air. It would be a small escape from the narrow confines of the little cabin when the weather was good.

The helm deck was just forward of the galley roof. There were forward and main hatches where the crew might hang their rope hammocks amid the cargo. In the main hatch there was a large table with two benches, so the sailors would have a place to bring their food and eat. Usually Alaeddin ben Omar shared the captain’s cabin, but this voyage both men would sleep with the crew, leaving the single shelter to the two women, who would be under guard at night for their protection.

Karim al Malina had decided that his ship was no place to practice the arts of a Passion Master. As long as Zaynab and Oma remained segregated from the men, and the crew was aware that the proprieties were being observed, there would be no difficulties. Women were not favored passengers.

They had a last hour in the baths, and old Erda wept copious tears as she bid the two girls farewell. “What a wonderful future ye have before ye,” she sobbed. “Ahh, to be young and ripe again!”

“I’m an old man,” Donal Righ said on hearing her words, “and I cannot remember a time when ye were either young or ripe, my faithful Erda.”

She glowered darkly at her master, and then hugging the girls a final time, said, “God protect ye both, my chicks, and may yer fates be happy ones.” Then Erda shuffled off, muttering about the harshness of her lot in such a household.

“I’d send her with ye just to be rid of the old crone, except she couldn’t bear to be separated from me,” Donal Righ said gruffly.

“She is too ancient a soul to make such a change in her life now,” Zaynab said. “If she were nae, I should want her wi’
us. Nae one hae ever treated me wi’ more kindness, Donal Righ, except perhaps yerself.”

“Humph,” he said, flushing. “Do not flatter yerself, wench. ’Tis yer rare beauty that attracted me to ye. Were ye not the fairest of God’s creatures, I would have sold ye off quick as a wink to some chieftain from the north. Now remember, don’t trust anyone, Zaynab, but yerself and yer own instincts. And don’t disgrace me before the caliph. Yer being trained as a Love Slave, and sent to Abd-al Rahman to bring me more of his favor here at the end of the world. Remember that!”

“I will, Donal Righ,” she promised him. Then she kissed his cheek quickly before turning away and hurrying from the room with Oma.

Donal Righ touched the place where her soft lips had rested but momentarily, then, all business, he turned back to Karim al Malina. “Ye’ve the gold to buy the horses and the camels as well as enough to outfit her like a princess. She is not to go to the caliph in beggarly fashion, but rather like a bride from a wealthy family. What I have set aside for ye, son of my old friend, is not enough to repay ye for what ye are doing, but now I am in yer debt, Karim al Malina. Ye know that I shall expend all my resources, if necessary, to repay that debt. May the seas be kind to ye, and the winds swiftly take ye home.”

The two men shook hands and went their separate ways.

I’timad
sailed from Dublin on the morning tide, gliding down the river Liffey and out into the open sea, where she was met with gentle swells and a good wind that filled her lateen rigging with deep breaths. For a while the misty hills of Eire remained in their view. No ship strayed far out to sea for any extended period of time, fearing storms or sea serpents. Only the Norsemen were that daring. No Moor wanted to be caught far from land, for they were originally men of the desert, and it was yet strong in their blood.

I’timad
sailed south from Dublin, then around the place the Britons called Land’s End. Across the open water she tacked, slipping between the island of Ushant and the coast of Brittany. The late summer days remained remarkably fair. As the weather
gave no indication of changing, Karim al Malina charted a course directly across the Bay of Biscay, a large body of water not usually noted for its benign seas. They tracked from Pont de Penmarc’h on the southern coast of Brittany around to Cape Finistère.

Carefully, they skirted the busy shipping lanes along a coastline belonging to the Christian kingdom of Leon, passed the coast that formed a frontier zone between Leon and the Muslim south, and finally sailed into the waters belonging to the land of al-Andalus. Still, amazingly, the weather held. So once again Karim routed his vessel across the stretch of open sea known as the Gulf of Cadiz to the city-state of Alcazaba Malina on the Atlantic coast of Ifhqiya, fifty miles south of Tanja, which was located on the Straits of Jibal Tarik. Zaynab had asked him about his name as they voyaged. His full name, he had explained, was Karim ibn Habib al-Malina. “Ibn Habib, son of Habib,” he said.

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