by Lazlo Ferran
“You have the women?”
“Certainly. Would you like to see them?”
“Later. First I must explain. Meth, you have heard, no doubt about the invasion in the north?”
“Yes. Korim?”
“Yes. I need to retake the land and drive him out but it is not a simple matter. He has many men and we may not be able to defeat him with numbers alone.”
He nodded. “I heard you suffered heavy losses in your battle with him.”
“Yes but we are almost back to full strength now. That is not the problem. He has fertile land just through the pass and we do not know if he is reinforced. Also, the area is very easily defended. And finally, we will have to approach across the desert.” He nodded, again.
“That is why I need a good plan. I think I have it and you can be part of it, if you are willing.”
“Your agent already told me it would involve fighting and the price you offer is agreeable. Now tell me the details. And don’t leave out the nasty bits. You have a habit of giving just a little at a time; useful for you but a pain for others!”
We both laughed. I took another piece of chicken, tugged the meat from the bone with my teeth and chewed the succulent meat, while I quickly reviewed in my head what I was about to say.
We were all seated around the edges of a large, intricately patterned carpet, with all the dishes laid in the centre. There were about forty of us, another twenty at a guess, mostly women and young men, around another carpet some twenty feet away. Most of the important men of the tribe, myself and Geb, were around the edge of the carpet nearest the fire, a place of honour, where our backs were warm, but our eyes did not smart from the smoke and men of lesser importance, including my Guards, were around the other edges. One of the women on the other carpet stood up and to the sound of a stringed instrument I could not see, started to dance a sensual dance. I watched her for a moment.
“The plan I wish to tell you is to be kept completely secret.” I made the tiniest movement with my eyes to indicate the men either side of him.
“Ha! Ha! These are my sons. Let me introduce them. Ashan, Dimez and Ochnud.” As he indicated each with his upturned palm, they each smiled and nodded slightly towards me.
“I am honoured to meet you all. Very well. I will talk freely. My plan is simple. You will travel, together with some of my very best warriors, disguised as tribesmen, across the desert and make camp near to Korim’s. You will openly display the women as you move and Korim, informed by his lookouts, will want you to join him. I am guessing that most of his men will not have seen a woman for many months.”
“In the meantime, my own forces will have split into two, one contingent moving through the pass of Geldem-Ahmiz to arrive at the northern most entrance to the main pass, north of Korim’s camp. I, leading the southern contingent, will arrive at a given time from the desert. On this day, at sunrise, your men and my warriors in your camp, will attack from the very heart of Korim’s camp. By this time, I would hope that his men will be very, very drunk and inebriated with every intoxicant you can supply them and the perfume of women! They will not be able to fight!”
“Ah! It is a good plan a cunning one. They will not expect it of a King. It is more like the plan of a thief!”
Meth’s sons laughed along with us and only Geb had not mellowed with the effect of the wine.
“Geb. You must learn that I do not always wish to be formal. When I am with friends, I like to relax and people can speak to me as they would to any friend.”
He smiled awkwardly. “Yes Sire”
I would guess Geb was about twenty-seven or eight and I had heard he was married. He was reported to be an efficient leader, strong and a good swordsman, and had volunteered for the Palace Guard after several successful campaigns as a captain in my army. He certainly had experience but lacked a certain worldliness, which I would soon correct. At present he was acting Captain of the Guards since the old Captain had been killed some time before. It would be time soon to decide whether to promote Geb or not.
“Do you think it will work?” I asked Meth.
He sipped his wine, before answering.
“Ummmm.” He indicated ‘maybe’ with that most ancient undulating side-to-side motion of his head, along with pursed lips. “It could work. How many men has he?”
“No more than five thousand.”
“And you?”
“We will have ten thousand, by the time we march.”
“Hmm. A lot of men but he has the pass. And possibly reinforcements.”
“You forget, my northern Army. He will not get reinforcements.”
“True. It is a good plan.” He took a grape, from a bowl and placed it on his tongue, before piercing it with his teeth.
I could tell he detected a weakness but would not reveal it yet.
“And how many of your warriors will I have?”
“Fifty. I think more will make him suspicious.”
“Fifty and forty of my own. It will be very dangerous for us. If one of the women speak, or he suspects things by some other means, we will be trapped and he may escape.”
“How will he escape?”
“You do not know this pass that well, my friend. These men are renegades and will scatter. They are used to fighting in small groups and hiding in the woods. They do not need numbers for strength, as you do.”
“But on foot, without horses and provisions, they will not get far and will be useless as an invasion force.”
“Ahh. Without horses. You wish us to liberate them of their steeds. Hmm yes, it could be done, if the timing is just right. I assume you trust the general of your northern army?”
“Yes.” He looked me in the eye and could probably see my indecision on this point but not any uncertainty. I would not commence battle if there was any doubt about the arrival of the northern army. I would not risk the campaign and my men.
“Well. There is great risk but then there are great rewards! You wish to review the troops?” This was a joke. He meant the women. I assumed, whatever doubt had been in his mind, I had removed.
“That would be good.” I said nodding slightly to him. He whispered to Ashan, his eldest son, to his right, who stood up and walked towards a tent. He returned a few moments later.
Meth stood up and indicated the tent. “You are ready?” It would be impolite to look at prostitutes in the open. He walked towards the tent and I followed. As an afterthought, I turned and signaled for Geb to follow. It took a few moments once inside the tent, for my eyes to adjust. Seated on silk cushions in front of us were about twenty women, dressed in bright and loosely fitting garments – sensual. They were veiled but turned their eyes towards me. They had no doubt been told of my importance in their future. In our part of the world, only whores or superior women, such as princesses, are permitted to look a man in the eyes, the first time they meet.
“Ask them to remove their veils, please.” I whispered to Meth. He spoke to Ashan, who clapped his hands. The women quickly unfastened the material covering their faces.
I looked and was not pleased. They were not attractive women for the most part. They would not earn much money in a brothel of my city. I could not understand why Meth, a man of taste, had brought them. Perhaps they had other skills. Shakira would not like this part.
“I will need to review them, in turn. Is there somewhere private, I can use?”
“Certainly.” He indicated a curtain at the end of the tent and I pushed it aside and I seated myself on cushions in the room behind. “Please bring me wine and grapes.”
The women were dressed in fine silks, ornamented with gold, silver and gems but each, to a woman, were, how shall I say it, gone to seed. There was not the slightest sign in their eyes of any interest in life. Theirs is a tough life, to be sure, but so is it as a soldier. And many soldiers had been conscripted too, although, strictly speaking, this was illegal.
The first woman, probably in her late thirties, dark haired and buxom, if not fat, p
ushed aside the curtain in a flurry of tinkling jewelery and rustling silk and bowed her head before me.
“Your name?”
“Arnu, Lord.”
That was interesting. Nobody had told them who I was, although she obviously knew I was a man of importance, from my manner.
“Dance for me, Arnu.”
As she twisted, not entirely without skill but without conviction, I looked her up and down. Her hips were probably twice the circumference they had been when she was of a ripe age. Her legs were short and although I could not see more than the ankles, beneath the silks, I had no reason to believe they were not fat. Her hands, with loops securing the green silk to her third fingers, were still pretty and her nails were polished with ebony lacquer.
Her rouged cheeks were puckered, like a damp pillow, and her lips were wrinkled like an old red pepper. Occasionally I caught a glimpse of gold cloth around her hips and bust, a sign of seniority, and if not now, I guessed she must have been head-girl at some time.
She was lamentably ugly and in an even more lamentable condition.
I clapped my hands and she was gone. Another girl appeared.
She, at least, was younger and thinner. Meth would own these girls now. I was sure he hadn’t hired them as this would be an unnecessary expense for such a long period but he wouldn’t necessarily take much interest in them. Nevertheless, he would take some pride in his judgment and would have them do their best to please me. I was sure the third girl would be the best. The women would be talking furiously together now, the first, indicating what she thought would be my preferences. As the most experienced, that was why she had been sent out first. The second girl would simply be a contrast from the first. They would not leave the best choice of girls to last, in case I did not get that far.
“Strip.” I told her. Meth had obviously had a musician placed outside the curtain because she called out something and I heard the sound of a kormuz being strummed.
She twisted, like the first, indeed probably was taught by her, but then slowly removed the silk twisted around her torso. Soon she had on only silver embroidered under garments, jewelery and her veil. I had seen her dark, almond eyes, watching mine closely as she danced. She, at least, was trying to gauge my moods in response to her body but her eyes held a dark arrogance with a pinch of spite. Some men would find this attractive but it was better to be able to hide this, when necessary.
As she removed her girdle, I watched her breasts. They were quite full and the dark nipples were hardening as I watched. She skillfully spun away each time I looked at them for more than a moment, teasing me and just when I was losing interest, she would face me or stand in profile again. I could see trickles of sweat running between her breasts, as she stood in profile, lit by the candles and lantern to my left. There was a certain sense of pride in her now. She waited until the impatience in my eyes was on the very brink of anger, before she finally indicated with her hands that she would remove her short skirt. She stood sideways on unfastened the knot on my side. She held the silk away from her so I could see the full fleshy excitement of her hip but not her bottom or the secret place between her legs. Then, she threw the silk away and spun, too fast for me to clearly see her full body and, when she was as far in the tent as she could get from me, she curled herself into a foetal ball, balanced on her toes. Slowly, in time to the quickening music, she unfurled and started moving towards me, each step taking half the time of the one before. As she reached her full height, she had the darkest look of fire in her eyes. Her breasts shook and her hips swung enticingly as she stalked towards me. I smiled. I looked between her legs and, yes, she was pleasing. The dark hair there drew my attention and I felt a slight stiffening in my groin. Then she reached me and dropped to her knees, holding my chin in her hands, and holding her lips only half an inch from my own. I looked deep into her eyes. I could still see an arrogant pride there and a cold bitterness.
I clapped my hands. Without speaking, she gathered her silks and was gone.
There had been plenty of time for the women to discuss me and I expected this girl to be the best.
Immediately I noticed her blonde hair, even before I noticed her body, or her face. Blonde hair is extremely rare in this part of the world.
She was dressed in crimson silks, with yellow tracings and a veil of blue. Very often, as with the previous girls, the hair is initially covered or tied into plaits or a ponytail but hers was simply knotted on one side of her pretty face. I smiled, simply at the sight of her.
She was tall and elegant but still quite full-bodied. As she came to kneel before me, for a moment, she pulled aside the silk, revealing her belly-button to show me she was not shy. I guessed she was not more than eighteen.
“Dance for me.” I said to her. I left the simple words hanging ambiguously in the air. I would let her do whatever she felt necessary, to please me. There was no music and she did not call for any.
She smiled at me. It was a clear, almost innocent smile. I suddenly recalled the fresh breeze in the mountains among the Blue Pines. She reminded me of someone, a lover but I couldn’t remember which.
She moved around the compartment, examining objects as if she was a guest. She moved in time with imagined music but subtly and took care to make sure the soft light showed all aspects of her beauty. As she moved occasionally, she would wipe her brow, to feign cooling herself. As she lifted and studied objects, almost unnoticed, she would loosen or remove one of her silks. It was all very innocently done, almost as if she was unaware of her growing nudity. Then, when she was near me, to my left, she removed her silver girdle and I could see her full breasts for the first time. They were fuller than the second girl’s and their weight gave them a sensual swing as she moved. She leaned over something and her breasts swung forward, their nipples hardening. I looked at her firm belly and lovely long legs. She was quite beautiful. Then she untied her hair and arranged its thick, luscious curtain around her face. She turned away from me and as she walked, her ample bottom swaying, she untied the skirt and continued to walk. Her stride and her bottom’s rhythm was not broken as she became naked.
She turned and lay on the floor facing me. She rolled over and over to the side of the tent and back again to the middle before crawling towards me. When she finally reached me, I took a long draft of red wine and she started unfastening my breeches, pulling out my thickening cock. She touched it with the tips of her lips and then gently, licked the side of it. There was a sensual laziness in her eyes, almost as if she didn’t care what she was doing but felt a duty to do it. As if she were doing a household task. Her innocence, combined with a motherliness, was compulsive. After a few moments, she stood up and turned away from me. She bent over to pick up a bronze ornament and stayed there, her large bottom simply waiting to be touched. I pulled down my breaches, took hold of her hips and entered her. It was a lazy thing and seemed inevitable as I gently rocked back and forth, inside her. When we parted, I was satisfied and she smiled as she dressed and left.
I dressed and left to find Meth.
“May I see all the girls, together?” He looked concerned.
“Certainly.”
All the girls were brought before me in the outer, larger compartment and I looked at all forty of them. It was as I feared. They were not, collectively, of a high standard. The third girl was the best but I surmised, even given the broad scope of men’s tastes, there were not more than five who would be sought after. The third girl smiled at me.
“Meth. We must speak alone.” It would insult him to talk of his choice before others.
A woman brought us more red wine and we sat to talk.
“The women you have are a varied selection, it is true, but I feel we need more of the younger women for this task.” I was choosing my words very carefully. Meth was capable of being blunt, though, when the need arose.
“They were a job-lot, as it were. I got them for a good price but if the girls are not pleasing to you, we must look further!”
“Indeed, I have an idea. I know of a place we can get thirty-five girls of the same standard as your five best, quickly. But first I will need your help. I will send Geb back to Parat but first I must test him. He is not long known to me and I must be sure I can trust him. Not only are we vulnerable here but the princess is also vulnerable. I will ask Geb to spar with me in a short while but I want your men to stay away. I am aware that normally they would love to watch such a spectacle.”
“Ah. Alright. May I watch?”
“Very well but please appear drunk, too drunk to handle a sword.”
“I understand your meaning.”
I left the tent and called on Geb. I announced my findings.
“I have been testing the whores of the camp and found them wanting for my task. Only one of them was any use. A blonde. Like the princess, she has a lovely mole on her hip but on the right, not the left.” This was in fact false but I wanted to test whether Geb would protect the honour of the princess. Later, I would find out if this piece of gossip had traveled, or not. Geb just nodded.
“It is my custom, Geb, when on campaign to exercise with my sword. Will you join me?” I quickly stripped to the waist and stepped away from the tent, with my sword, Geb following. He had belted his sword on, as befits a Palace Guard accompanying his King.
I stood in the sand, on the edge of the lantern light, going through some set pieces, grunting expressively.
Meth sidled up, wine goblet in hand. Slurrily, he encouraged me.
After a few minutes I beckoned to Geb
“Do you care to spar with me, Geb?”
He looked awkward. It was not usual for a soldier to spar with the King. There were dangers involved.
“It is alright. I am almost certainly a better swordsman than you.”
Still he was reluctant.
“Only if you command it, Sire.”
“Very well. I do command it.”
He unsheathed his sword, straight, broad and glinting yellow in the lantern light and took a stance.
The swords rang at the first clash. I did not move as fast as I could.