“What business is it of yours?”
“I’m still your superior,” he reprimanded. “Don’t forget that. You haven’t taken over Phalus yet. Now I ask you again … ”
Felicia shrugged; she turned her face and avoided his eyes. “I was once like the others,” she admitted in a whisper. “Oh, yes! Foolish and gullible. Believing when I was told I was loved. But I learned the hard way. It cost me much in pride and self-esteem — but, oh, how I learned!”
“What happened?”
There were hints of tears in her eyes, Sinbad saw to his surprise, and the girl turned to him again, not trying to hide them. “I was betrothed at the age of fifteen to a man the envy of every girl in my land. Rich, handsome, strong … He vowed his love was eternal, that we’d spend our lives together in love, without shame or fear, that our happiness was unequaled. But then one day I found out the lies in his viper’s words. While away in Damascus he met another, and when his caravan returned home he brought with him a wife. A woman already with child — his child! I could not believe my eyes; my world was spinning, I wanted to die, and I almost did by my own hand. But then” — she wiped her eyes and sniffed — “I decided that I would live. I was blameless in this episode. The victim. While he and his new lover lived like a sultan and sultana in his palace.”
Sinbad sat back disquieted. “So what did you do?”
A cunning smile crossed Felicia’s parted lips. “I took my revenge. One night, very late, I stole over the wall and found my former betrothed sitting alone in his garden, musing and contemplating his happy life. He was startled to see me, but not displeased. He told me that he still did love me, in his way, and would certainly be pleased if I were to become his concubine. I let him believe in my interest. Then, as his hands slipped my garments off, I lay beside him beneath the trees and allowed him to make love to me again, all the while pretending to enjoy his filthy pleasure. At the moment of his heightened release, when his shoulders shook and he moaned with ecstasy, I drew my hidden knife and I — ”
“You killed him?”
Felicia laughed coldly. “No, good Captain. Death would be far too good for the likes of him. No, I did something that he would never forget, something that would insure he’d never dethrone another innocent virgin again. With a single slash of my blade I made him less than a man forever! Now do you understand?”
Sinbad shuddered as he nodded, shocked at what she had done, yet understanding the painful circumstances that led her to it.
“While he cried and bled I ran away,” she continued. “Far from my home until I came to the sea. It was then that I met Melissa and joined with her band of women, happy to be away from the world of men for all time. And I’ve never had another man touch me since.”
Sinbad stood and faced Felicia squarely. Don Giovanni hopped from his shoulder and looked on what happened next with growing interest.
“That was all a very long time ago,” the mariner from Baghdad told the girl. “For your own sake you should forget — and live your life once more. Not here on Phalus, as a pirate. But out in the world, as a woman … ”
Felicia shook her head, locks tumbling. “No, never … I don’t need men. I don’t — ” She trembled visibly as he took the small torch out of her hand and threw it to the floor. “What … what are you doing?” she gasped. She made to draw her knife, but Sinbad reached out quickly and held her hand. Then, to her total amazement, he pulled her to him, crushing her in his arms.
Felicia squirmed and wriggled and tried to break free. “No, don’t!” she cried when he kissed her. “Let me go or I’ll do the same to you! Let me go or I’ll … ” Like butter her hate suddenly melted, as his mouth caused fires to ripple through her quivering body. And she ceased her protest, returning the kiss, enfolding her own arms around him, clutching wildly in an impassioned embrace.
Don Giovanni, by now used to his captain’s amorous behavior, hardly gave a second glance when the couple dropped upon the hard mat entwined as though they were one.
The most frigid pirate of Melissa’s crew took her hated adversary with urgency, panting and scratching as long subdued sensations rushed to the surface like a tidal wave. She bit and screamed and pulled him harder against her, hating him and loving him at the same moment.
Her climax was a vortex of emotion which drove her dizzily higher and finally exploded, every fiber in her body contracting with crazed and uncontrolled fury. And in this vortex she spun until the last vestiges of pleasure and excitement had faded.
Catching her breath, she said, “You shouldn’t have done that, Captain. I told you I’m not like Melissa; you’ll not turn my head with your charms … ”
“Nor would I wish to,” Sinbad replied, thoroughly exhausted. His eyes wandered and focused on the panther chained beyond the iron gate. The woman who lay in his arms was every bit as untamed. Felicia yawned; he kissed her mouth tenderly. “You mustn’t tell anyone about this,” she cautioned. “Especially Melissa.”
“Believe me, I won’t,” he answered with a relaxed grin. He kissed her again, then stroked her hair and the sides of her face. Felicia purred in his embrace. Slowly, her lids closed over her luminous eyes and she fell into a contented slumber. Sinbad watched her and for a fleeting moment wished he were not forever bound to his beloved Sherry. He sighed, then signaled to the watching frog. “Come on, Giovanni!” he said. The frog obeyed immediately, and when Sinbad was assured Felicia was soundly asleep, he stood up and tiptoed out the open door, locking it behind. “Rest well, Felicia,” he muttered to himself. “I’m sorry to have to leave you like this but I don’t have any choice. Trust that I’ll come back for you as fast as I can.”
In the shadows Felicia stirred and rolled over.
Losing no time, Sinbad passed a waiting sentry, returned her salute, and sent her on a fool’s errand halfway across the island. Then, slipping through shadows with Felicia’s knife in his hand, he made his way to where Methelese was now being kept with his daughter. He unlocked the door of the spare cabin and woke the aging Athenian from his slumber.
Methelese stared with sleepy eyes.
“Shh,” said Sinbad, a finger to his lips. A second cot lay across the room with a sleeping figure tucked beneath the blanket. Sinbad glanced at Clair, unable to see more than a silhouette, and turned back to the startled philosopher. “Don’t make any noise, just listen. Wake your daughter five minutes after I leave. Then wait for me to come back. I want you to lead us all down through the tunnel you told me about — ”
“When? Tonight?”
Sinbad nodded. “As soon as we can.”
“But what about the banquet?” He looked from the barred window to the meeting hall where the revelry continued as before.
“Let me handle that. By now most of the Amazons are off in their drugged slumber. I’m going to create a diversion, rouse my men, and slip right through their lines to the Scheherazade.”
“And what of Melissa?”
Sinbad smiled. “It’s all under control; she’s waiting for me at her villa. By the time she gets restless and comes to have a look it will all be too late. Now, are you with me?”
Methelese lifted himself and nodded dumbly. The risks were great, he knew, but there might never be another opportunity like this.
Silently Sinbad took his leave and crossed between the palms to the broad grassy knoll in front of the banquet hall. There he was greeted by a few pirates drunk on wine and dizzied by the potent incense.
“Spend some time with me!” one pouted, trying to lift herself as he passed. “Don’t let Melissa have it all,” grumbled another.
Sinbad laughed. “You’d better not let your commander hear you say that,” he chided.
“We’d rather have you to lead us,” said a third girl, frowning. “Melissa has all the fun.”
“There are plenty of good men inside,” he assured those awake. “Get some rest and take your turns again.” And he left them to wearily lay their heads back on the grass. A burly eunuch, hands on hips a
nd a scowl on his face, stopped him at the entrance.
“What are you doing here?” he growled.
“Stand aside,” said Sinbad impatiently. “I’m second in command on Phalus now — or hadn’t you been told?”
The eunuch grimaced. “Aye, I know that. But Captain Melissa gave orders for no one else to enter. Including you.”
Sinbad replied boldly. “Don’t be silly, man. I’m here on business — official business. Melissa herself ordered me to find Rebecca and speak to her.”
The eunuch seemed dubious; he glanced over toward the shady villa where the lamps still burned brightly in the window. “Perhaps I should speak with the captain first myself …
Sinbad nodded. “Certainly. Go ahead. I’ll wait here. But make it quick, I’ve a lot to do.” Then, as the eunuch grunted and turned toward the path, Sinbad delivered one of his Chinese chops to a strategic spot at the back of the brute’s head. The oaf staggered momentarily and silently crumpled to the ground. He would be unconscious, Sinbad knew, for the better part of an hour.
He dragged the hefty body beneath the shade of a thick palm and then cautiously opened the door to the hall. Once inside, his eyes burned with the sting of the powerful incense permeating the air. Everything was quiet, the orgy having worn itself down, and the only sounds to be heard were the snoring of some of his men and the occasional moans from sleeping pirates.
“Allah’s mercy,” Sinbad murmured to himself, fighting his way between and over the bodies of his men, who lay scattered across the room, each with two or more Amazons resting beside him. “What’s been going on here?” It would have been an amusing sight to behold, were not this matter so serious.
“Milo!” Sinbad called in a loud whisper, frantically seeking out his trusted aide. “Milo, where are you, man?”
Groggily, from halfway across the darkened chamber, the crusty old salt managed to raise his head from between the melon-like breasts of a finely proportioned naked pirate. He squinted his eyes at the approaching silhouette and stared in disbelief “Sinbad? Captain Sinbad, is that really you?”
The mariner from Baghdad slipped over to his friend and cautioned him not to stir. “What’s happened here?” he whispered.
Milo’s tongue drooped from his mouth; his fatigued features sagged like an old hound dog’s. “Allah be praised, am I glad to see you,” he wheezed, rolling his eyes. Then he anxiously tugged at Sinbad’s collar. “You … you have no idea, no idea what tonight’s been like for us.” He put his hands to his face and moaned softly. “By the holy beard of the Prophet, these women never have enough! I ache as I never thought possible for a man to ache. Why, just by myself I was forced to service three of the fieriest hellcats on the face of the earth!” And as he spoke, one of the girls rolled over in her slumber, eyes closed and smiling. “Milo,” she croaked, “Miloooo … come back … do it again … ” And she sighed pleasurably.
The old sailor pulled a face. “See what I mean?”
Sinbad shuddered. “How about the others?”
Milo looked over his shoulder to where a snoring Mongo lay in the arms of snoring Rebecca. “Poor Mongo,” he wheezed. “You should have seen the things that woman made him do! In all my days I’ve never even dreamed there were so many different ways — ” Then he looked over the other shoulder toward Abu. The first mate lay entangled amid a mass of limbs and torsos, virtually buried under the pile. “And pity Abu,” he went on. “They made him take care of five of them — single-handedly! Surely I could never have accomplished that at half my current age.”
Sinbad frowned. “Well, never mind about that now.” His eyes darted to and fro and, certain that none of the women had stirred or woken, he said to Milo in a low voice, “We’re getting off Phalus. Tonight. Within the hour, if possible. Everyone has to be quietly roused.”
Milo seemed incredulous. “But how, Sinbad? We can’t even move after what we’ve been through! We’re dying, Captain, dying!”
“You really will be if you don’t get cracking,” Sinbad snapped. “I’ve heard that these banquets often last for a week — imagine how you’re going to feel after six more nights of this.”
Milo’s shoulders trembled with the very thought. “All right,” he agreed at last. “What do I have to do?”
“We haven’t any time to waste. As quickly and quietly as you can, wake the others and tell them wait for my signal. Be sure Abu and Mongo get their pants back on in a hurry — I’ll need the three of you to guide the others … ”
Milo gulped. “Are you sure your plan is sound? What are you going to do now?”
Sinbad chuckled. “Me? I’m going to end this little bash with a flurry like Phalus has never seen. Now just do as I’ve said. You have about fifteen minutes to be ready for it. And when I tell you to run, you run. Is that understood?”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” He saluted feebly and started to put his pants back on, ever-mindful not to disturb the women on either side.
Leaving the perplexed sailor, Sinbad dashed back outside into the starry night, smiling as he took a quick glance back and saw Milo rousing the dazed crew one by one.
He hid behind a row of bushes at first sight of two sentries patrolling the silent walkway to the dock. Angered at their ill-luck in being chosen by lot not to partake in tonight’s festivities, the Amazons seemed angry indeed. With hands firmly clutching at the hilts of their strapped daggers, they looked scornfully over at the banquet hall, sneering and exchanging a few bitter jokes about their fellow Amazons.
Sinbad let them pass by, and when a low cloud covered the moon, he crossed among the shadows in the direction of the storage sheds set along the perimeter of the village compound. Once assured that he hadn’t been seen, he took out Don Giovanni from inside his shirt and placed the frog beside him on the ground. Then, kneeling, he took out his flints and the oil-soaked cloths he had hidden away.
“It’s now or never,” he mumbled to the frog. “Keep a lookout while I begin.”
Don Giovanni nodded grimly and hopped away, finding a quiet place in the deep grass and scaring away a handful of dancing fireflies. There he waited in position, ever combing the environs for other sentries.
It did not take very long for billows of thick smoke and then the first flames to emerge through the thatched roof.
One sentry nudged the other; they both looked on in wonder. Then, “Fire! Fire! The supply huts are burning!”
Bells began to clang from the tiny lookout tower at the wharf, pirate girls scampered to their feet, doing their best to collect their wits while mayhem reigned all around.
The fields behind the sheds broke into a glorious blaze; from every side new fires were fanning out, fueled by the strong breeze coming in from the water.
In a frenzy, Melissa bounded from her villa to take command of her Amazons. Likewise, Sinbad suddenly appeared. “Over there!” he cried, sending a squad of half-naked women to the most distant flames. “And there, too!” he shouted, commanding others to run the other way. Struggling with water buckets, the drugged girls, sore and hurting, ran mindlessly to douse the fires, while Sinbad made his way to the banquet hall itself.
“Let’s go!” he yelled. And with whoops and hollers, his own recently aroused men came flying out the door, charging toward the distant grotto and the nearby cabin where Methelese and his daughter waited to guide them safely away.
“Stop them!” screeched Melissa at the top of her lungs.
Men were racing everywhere, knocking over pirates, trampling any and all who got in the way. Before any weapons could be drawn, Mongo crashed the heads of the sentries together and hurled them to the ground. Sinbad and Abu scooped up their knives.
The clang of combat filled the air as the eunuchs tried to halt the advance. Sinbad fought off the first, leaving the second for an enraged Mongo to deal with. The brute backed off in fear of the enraged giant eager to pay him back for indignities suffered. And the fellow howled for mercy when Mongo squeezed him in his arms, in a gruesome bear
hug, and cracked every single rib in his body.
“Sinbad, this way!” called out Methelese, waving frantically.
Most of the men had almost reached the grotto. Sinbad could see Melissa and a small band of Amazons come tearing over the blazing knoll after them, but there was no time to fend them off. Not if the treasure rooms were to be ransacked and the ship to be safely reached in time.
“Lead on, Athenian!” And the mariner from Baghdad stood at the grotto entrance, letting his men pour through first, running two and three at a time down the dark steps. Then he threw a torch into the grass before him, purposely lighting another blaze to slow down the advance of the furious Melissa.
Sinbad leaped down to the bottom landing. “Where’s the tunnel?” he panted to the waiting Methelese who had stopped at the end of the corridor.
“Straight ahead,” the Athenian replied with much pleasure.
“And the treasure rooms?”
“By the cat … ”
Sinbad frowned. He had almost forgotten about the chained panther. “All right, then,” he said, gathering his still-dazed men. “You and you,” he picked them at random, “sack the room to the left. You and you, take the one at the right. Steal everything you can carry. The rest of you follow Methelese, he’ll lead you to the dock. Retake our ship as fast as you can — but don’t kill anyone unless you have to.”
With eager nods at the thought of revenge, Sinbad’s men set to the task without any questions.
“But what about you?” asked a concerned Methelese.
Sinbad placed a gentle hand on the old Athenian’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine,” he assured him. “My — er — business will only take a minute or two and then I’ll be right along. But right now there’s a promise I have to keep.”
Then off everyone ran, following the lead of Methelese, who held a torch and led the band down and away, ever lower into the shaft that would take them to freedom. Knowing exactly what to do, those still with Sinbad, Abu among them, slipped by the hissing panther and broke into the treasure rooms, gasping with astonishment at the incredible wealth. The chambers were thick with captured booty — fine statues of ivory and gold; golden headdresses, inlaid with cornelian and cut glass, studded with emeralds and rubies; bracelets, necklaces, rare diadems from Ceylon, stolen from savage and cunning tribes; tusks from Africa; white-golden images of Oriental gods and goddesses from the temples at the Forbidden City. It was so much; it dazzled and dazed the eye as Abu’s slim torch lighted the dank chamber.
The Thief of Kalimar; Captain Sinbad; Cinnabar Page 66