“I, Ga’Riyal do agree to accept the sentence imposed summarily by the Internal Security Department. I’ve been advised of my rights and have decided in the interest of speeding justice not to appeal against sentence. I accept the sentence as Captain of my ship, as punishment for my personal actions and as representative of my officers and crew. If I, or any of my crew, commits an offence at any future date, the Department deems against the Security of the State, this previous conviction may be taken into account in determining of sentence and weighed against any mitigating evidence.”
Riyal signed the document and handed it back to Fenzela. His mood was sombre.
“Well done Fenzela!” said Marina aloud. She had listened from the bedroom. “It’s nice to know I can delegate my position.”
Marina moved across the room and Fenzela vacated the chair for Marina to seat herself in.
“Thirty strokes is a little steep, though Fenzela, he has not passed colour change yet.”
Fenzela stood her ground, “Anything less would be a mockery considering the severity of the charge. You left the matter in my hands, Marina. You could refuse to authorise the flogging.”
“No, I gave you the authority to decide, so I’ll not interfere. I couldn’t reach a fair decision myself. Yours is generous under the circumstances.”
Riyal had listened to these exchanges, but it was only as Marina removed her ring and affixed her seal to the document, he finally made two and two make four.
“You’re Director, aren’t you Marina? It was all a trick, letting me think the Director was another woman. Is this all a big joke, are you really going to have me flogged?”
“I am Director. I told you no lies. Both the Director and Marina personally are furious about your smuggling. You never asked the Director’s name, so I didn’t tell you. As for a joke, it is not intended as such. You will not find the flogging you receive a laughing matter.”
Fenzela was dismissed and left the office.
“You could have lifted your little finger and set me free. You could’ve let me off without a flogging, Marina.”
“I could, but it wouldn’t be fair if you escaped punishment completely, you would not learn how serious this matter is. Thirty strokes will be ample for you to consider your guilt fully. The demonstration should be instructive to your officers and to other cargo carriers. It is very difficult to keep things secret in Zenina. It’ll soon be known I ordered my lover flogged for importing treacle. Few will wish to risk my wrath falling on them. I regret personally having to punish you, but I view it as necessary. It does not alter the fact I still wish to bed you, but my personal interests will not sway me from the correct course, even if that means you never wish to see me again.”
“You expect me to want you after you order me flogged?”
“I expect nothing Riyal. The decision to have you flogged was taken purely on a Security basis. You escaped execution, slavery or deportation, purely because I found you sexually adept. So I have shown some favouritism to you.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“You could say that, you’d have no trouble earning a living in Zenina, but you have still a lot to learn.”
“Are you going to teach me?”
“Do you want me to?”
“I have never been flogged before, will it be very awful?”
“It helps if you count. Do not disgrace me by hollering. I will see to your back afterwards.”
“You took the bruises away this morning, didn’t you? I woke and expected to be bruised all over yet I couldn’t find a mark; but I was very stiff.”
“I’m usually gentler with my lovers at least until after colour-change.”
“You could have enslaved me, which would stop me being a danger to Zenina. Why didn’t you?”
“I could’ve done that this morning, if I wanted to. I don’t agree with slavery, but I am stronger that you. I could enslave you if I wished.”
“But you won’t?”
“No I won’t. My men are always free to come or go, as long as they do not do it too quickly.”
Riyal laughed. “I suppose I deserve the beating, I don’t think I’ll be breaking Zeninan law again.”
“That would be wise. They are ready for you, come here.”
He moved to her and she kissed him briefly.
“I thought it might help,” she said.
“It does,” he said kissing her again more deeply. Fenzela entered and coughed.
“They are ready for you now, Ga’Riyal”
“I am more embarrassed about being seen naked by my officers than anything else. It is really necessary for me to be completely unclothed?”
“Yes. You’d suffer more if you get cloth threads in a weal. It’s painful cleaning it and takes longer to heal. Non-Zeninans can get nasty infections from cloth in wounds. Besides you have nothing to be embarrassed about, you look best naked. Fenzela agrees with me.”
“I think he looks delicious. If I’d really been in charge I would have been very tempted to put my tattoo on him.”
“Let’s get on with it then,” said Riyal squaring his shoulders, “Lead on.”
Riyal didn’t enjoy the following experience either. It came as a shock to him, to discover how much pain you can feel without passing out. As the possessor of a fit and healthy body, he’d felt little pain in his life and it was definitely a new experience for him. Princess Marina and his officers watched in silence. When the punishment was over, his officers’ faces were very white and one was sick. Riyal bore it bravely and quietly after the first stroke which tore a gasp from him. Marina stayed with him in his mind and although she did not reduce his suffering by taking it to herself, she comforted him by her mental presence.
Several Internal Security Department Officers slipped in at the back and Charles who had not yet gone to pick up the others joined them. Charles was worried. Marina had not been requiring his services regularly enough for him to feel assured of his place. He was used to Marina picking up men and dropping them. After all she had done it with the Major. That affair was clearly over. Konsky was someone to be wary of, but he did not think he had enough style to oust him. This Ga’Riyal was another case entirely.
For Marina to take up with a Kurgian, even a part Kurgian without there being political reasons was very unusual. Ga’Riyal must be quite special. Charles liked to see his rivals, for that was how he viewed Ga’Riyal. His stretched his mind out towards him, but did not make contact. Marina’s thoughts were with Ga’Riyal. Charles was more deeply concerned.
When Charles heard about the lover of Marina who was in the cells, he had wandered down to the guard room and taken a look at her pirate. He had not liked what he saw. Ga’Riyal was a fine specimen of manhood with what a woman wants in generous proportions, but that alone would not have concerned Charles. This man had poise and elegance. Few men stripped and imprisoned as he was would make such a good impression. Ga’Riyal was obviously scared but he was no coward. Charles ran a computer check on Riyal’s genetic background and colour status. As he feared Marina had had the information produced.
Ga’Riyal would remain fertile; the gene matching with Marina would produce fine healthy children, but was not optimal. Riyal was less than a month off change. He went back to Bromarsh full of disquiet. When the news he was to be flogged filtered through to Charles, he exulted. Marina could not care about him, or she would not have him, a free man flogged. Then Charles realised Marina would do what she thought right whether she wanted to or not. Duty came first with her. Another thought cheered him. Ga’Riyal would not want Marina after she ordered his public humiliation, would he?
Even this did not reassure Charles for long. Charles thought “I’d accept almost anything to be with Marina. Other men have felt like I do.”
So Charles decided to see this rival being flogged. Charles was aware of admiration for Ga’Riyal. The Internal Security Department were thinking of him not merely with lust but with a degree of respect. He held himself
well. He did not scream or complain. Marina would approve of his behaviour.
Instinctively Charles guessed Ga’Riyal would not become Silver. The bastard will make Gold, I would bet on it. Charles knew no matter how hard he tried to hate Riyal, he would not be able to. Marina’s choice held good as usual. There was nothing more Charles could do but hope and pray that Marina would not fall in love with Riyal, because if she did, all was finished for him.
Chapter Sixteen - The Farm
Tippy and Karella were picked up from the hospital by a quiet young man who introduced himself as Charles. They drove without conversation to Hemithea East where Belabeza and Adelza shared a small house. Charles loaded their luggage and they climbed aboard. Driving to Father O’Flaherty’s villa they added Floren, Jessina, Father Debenden and Kazimira to their number. The latter’s addition had been requested by Vlama for a brief respite in supervision. In return she promised to keep Colonel Bromarsh out of trouble whilst he remained in town and Marina was in the country.
Their last stop was at Marina’s home, where they loaded up the twins, Orina, Alanga and Konsky. Charles concentrated on his driving, taking the most picturesque route to show off the natural and rural landscape of Zenina. Tippy and Father Debenden were duly appreciative but Jessina and Floren soon became tired. The Zeninan sun was going down as they disembarked at the farmstead.
Father Debenden’s expectations were again disappointed because there was no traditional farm-house or log cabins. Most of the farm buildings were built into the slopes of a natural hill. The roofs were grassed over and blended into the scenery with green shrubs. The main building held living quarters, kitchens, food stores and the refectory.
To this large room they were led and served their supper. The families who lived on the farm were already congregated there and were eating their second course. Orina and Antang had not been looking forward to farm life fearing they would be isolated from life in town, but were cheered by the number of children present. There were more children than adults in the room, a fact the others noticed too. The food was good but plain and few of the dishes would cause Father Debenden offence.
When the meal was over, they were shown to their quarters. The sleeping quarters were a level higher up the hill and could be reached by winding staircases although there was a lift. Father Debenden was ushered into the first room of the block. It was pristine and adequately but spartanly furnished. A small private shower room led off from the bedroom which contained a bed, cupboards, a desk and three chairs. All the other rooms were furnished alike except some of them contained two slightly smaller beds and the colours of the furnishings varied. Jessina and Orina were given the next room. The twins went into the next and Alanga took the room across the corridor opposite to theirs. Karella and Tippy were placed opposite to Belabeza and Adelza.
Konsky and Charles were housed in the slave quarters which were mostly unlived in. As many of the workers were married, some rooms had been joined into family suites. Unusually for Zenina, the men on the farm worked on the farm. At busy periods like the main harvest, even the older children helped out. Marina paid all according to work done, although the joint pay packet went to the wife; the husband’s contribution was clearly notated. Children’s wages were paid in part directly and part saved into accounts to pay towards their college education. As a result even Rubies could afford more than one child, although the man who the children called father was rarely their genetic sire.
Floren and Kazimira were given rooms in another section in proximity to other teenagers. This area had greater sound proofing and allowed the rest of the community some peace. The young children were soon tucked up and fast asleep. Father Debenden who had some misgivings about neglecting his role in supervising Floren followed suit. Floren was soon knocking on Kazimira’s door. She had been expecting him. Konsky was being chatted up by Kotenza who was Marina’s Farm Manager, and was beginning to think farm life might not be so bad.
Charles was not so content. He knew if he stayed in the slave quarters, one or more of the farm girls would seek him out. He had tried a few on previous trips. He had even let Kotenza have her way with him. She was not bad in bed but farming smells of animals, manure and pickled grass have a tendency to linger in the hair of all those who worked there. Charles had a fastidiousness which found such earthy odours not only distracting but offensive. He had another plan how to spend the night. If all else failed, he would sleep alone and head back to Hemithea as soon as the sun rose.
Chapter Seventeen – Training
Ga’Riyal was escorted to the room off Marina’s office. A smooth sheet had been laid over the bed. As soon as the guards withdrew he lay face down upon it. It seemed hours before Marina entered shortly after. His back throbbed in agony, yet he saw himself as if he was seeing someone else and the pain belonged in another place. He found it most peculiar to feel this detachment and be analysing the experience in such an impersonal way. He did not even blame Marina much for his pain, but was looking forward to her touch.
Marina sat softly on the bed beside him and rippled the nails of one hand very delicately across the stripes that cut into his back. He pulled away sharply as the pain awoke afresh. His movement pulled cruelly on the surface of his broken skin. Their minds touched and his cynical misery found her jovial amusement. He found the idea she was laughing inside at his expense far from amusing and decided his sense of humour must also have received a drubbing.
“Roll over,” she said as she undressed.
“You must be joking” he thought in reply.
“Not at all, it’ll hurt more if I push you.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Begin your training. No man or woman can really understand how to give or receive pleasure until they have felt great pain. Pain and pleasure are closely linked in the mind. There is no real depth to pleasure without some pain, and pain is just another facet of pleasure. These are things you need to learn. But experience is the best tutor. You need to accept and love the pain and relax with it, tensing against it increases the pain without releasing the pleasure.”
Chapter Eighteen - Fortress Zantah, Kurgia
Prince Ga’Mazadeh was watching his children play in the inner courtyard of his fortress. The four boys full of energy, glowing with health and the pale green curls of his little girl shone in the midday sun as she toddled back and forth amongst the bustle that surrounded her. They seemed completely unaware of the panic and chaos reigning throughout the fortress.
His majesty, his most revolting King Ga’Mishrin had announced at breakfast, that he and his retinue would sup at Prince Ga’Mazadeh’s Fortress Zantah. This information had been relayed to Ga’Mazadeh. His servants and serfs had been getting the fortress ready for the king’s arrival ever since. The King would arrive in six hours’ time, by then Ga’Mazadeh was assured everything and everyone would be in their proper places. The meal would be fit for a king and the entertainment would satisfy Ga’Mishrin’s debauched tastes. If it were not so, heads would roll tomorrow on Ga’Mazadeh’s orders, if he lived that long. His servants knew everything must be perfect for all their lives depended on it.
Ga’Mazadeh thought of the evening to come with distaste. He despised King Ga’Mishrin, though he was not such a fool to show it. He valued Ga’Mishrin’s rule for his strength in holding the Kurgian Empire together, but his public and private excesses filled Ga’Mazadeh with disgust.
Prince Ga’Mazadeh was a very unusual creature, a man who was not only in love with his wife, but had that love fully returned. In his personal life he was faithful, a good father and a hard but fair master. His lands thrived and his serfs and servants were less wretched than those of most Kurgian lords.
If, in his struggle for power and survival, he was totally ruthless, he was never gratuitously sadistic. If it was necessary for a dozen men to be executed, he had it done with celerity. He did not think up an imaginative end for them, or have their agony drawn out by unnecessary torture. I
f once they were dead, he found the mutilation of their bodies expedient in discouraging repetition of their offence; it was ordered without personal malice or satisfaction.
He was a powerfully built man in his fiftieth year and his body was in perfect condition. His appearance was marred by the right side of his face which was puckered and discoloured by scars from an accident with boiling water when he was only a year old. There had been many painful operations to deal with the injury which had resulted in making the scars worse. He refused to wear a mask, or camouflage make up, to hide the disfigurement but automatically turned his left side to company and had dimmer lighting in his banqueting hall and reception rooms to lessen the shock of his face upon strangers. Even in day time curtains shrouded his windows against strong light.
He found the turning away and avoidance of his face by others distressing, but at least he did not have to put up with the false flattery and fawning King Ga’Mishrin was subjected to. The irony was although his people could not bear to look at him, they loved and respected him. The reason for King Ga’Mishrin’s visit, Ga’Mazadeh had not yet been officially informed, but his spies informed him the king had been acting strangely. The last time Ga’Mishrin, had behaved out of character had been when Princess Marina had been in Kochab to negotiate the treaty between the Kurgian and Zeninan Empires. His good mood had not lasted long, vanishing with her departure. The reduction in executions noticed during her visit ceased immediately, rising at an alarming rate to more than make up for any shortfall.
Prince Ga’Mazadeh had considerable respect for that young lady. If he had not been so fond of his wife and cursed with his hideous scars, he would have been very tempted to seduce her himself. She was everything a Princess should be. She had got intelligence, diplomacy, elegance and guts . It had been his unpleasant duty to escort Ga’Mishrin’s ‘playmates’ from the Palace on many occasions. He had accompanied Princess Marina from the king to her battle-ship. She had walked stiffly with her head held high, a brilliant smile glued to her face. She showed no revulsion to his face, talking to him with the good manners of a born aristocrat. She had enquired politely after his wife and children, showing an interest in his affairs, even though he knew she had been bruised emotionally and physically by Ga’Mishrin.
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