THE TAMING OF JAELLE'N
Page 8
Inger went to a stout robed man for 12,500 rajans. Maydan was bought by a tall slender man, only a little less fine to look upon than Aguilar, for the sum of 14,000 rajans. Altima also went for 12,500 rajans to a sharp-featured man in striped robes who someone said had a circus and traveled around the country giving shows. Her skill in acrobatics would earn him even more when she was not serving his pleasure.
Cragan led Lathi to the block. Jaelle'n watched as the girl's glance followed him when he left her. The sorrow and anguish were clear in her face. She's in love with him! The notion took Jaelle'n by surprise. She recalled that Cragan had selected Lathi the first day, when they were divided up. Had she then spent much time with him as Jaelle'n had with Aguilar? Her heart ached briefly for the barbarian girl, torn from the man she loved even as Jaelle'n would be.
A tall man robed and veiled in the manner of the people from the deep desert bid on her, as did two men from the city. The bids spiraled higher and higher. Finally for 15,000 rajans, the desert man triumphed and one of his minions came to lead Lathi to join his entourage. She dragged slowly after the man who led her away, her head down and tears gleaming on her tawny cheeks.
At last it was Jaelle'n's turn. Cragan also led her up to the platform. She stepped to the block and stood proudly, holding her head high. She refused to let anyone see her weep as Lathi had done. If Aguilar did not wish to keep her, she would show herself a prize fit for any monarch. She turned slowly as commanded, while a slight breeze stirred her green gown and exposed the painted patterns on her body. She heard murmurs of appreciation and comments about the color of her hair and the fairness of her skin.
The first bid was 12,000 rajans. Someone soon offered 15,000. For a moment, she thought a swarthy merchant would be her new master. The auctioneer raised his hand to call for a final bid.
Suddenly a deep voice cut through the rustles and murmurs. "20,000 rajans."
A gasp went up from the crowd. An amazing bid, certainly a king's ransom, and perhaps one of the highest bids ever to be made in the Challabah.
Jaelle'n wanted to swing around and see where the voice had come from, but she dared not. Why had it somehow sounded familiar? She was sure Aguilar was not there and he would certainly have no reason to buy her from himself!
There were no further bids and the auctioneer declared her sold. When one of the lean robed men who served the veiled desert man came, she knew who had bought her. Moments later, she found herself standing beside Lathi.
She touched the smaller woman's hand. "We will be together, anyway," she said quietly.
Lathi glanced up, her eyes still aswim with tears. "Aye, so we shall. It was a surprising thing to hear him bid for you, too. Our new master has spent a huge sum to acquire us! I cannot imagine what a Desert Prince would want with two pleasure slaves, but it matters not. We have no choice nor say in the matter. I only pray he is not cruel and vicious."
Jaelle'n nodded soberly. "Yes, I do the same."
Before they could talk further, the quick slim men who served the Desert Prince hurried them from the square. They did not walk far before they entered a walled compound, which turned out to be a stable of sorts with quarters above the stalls. The place was abuzz with activity as comalos were saddled and loaded, and men rushed about gathering supplies and goods, which had apparently been purchased in the city.
Jaelle'n and Lathi were almost ignored, but one man stood guard over them. Finally one robed man led a sleek pale-colored comalo to where they stood. He tapped its left knee and the beast obediently dropped to the ground. Jaelle'n saw an elaborate saddle strapped to the beast's back, a saddle with two seats and hand-holds built into it.
The handler indicated she and Lathi should mount the beast. Jaelle'n hung back, shaking her head. "Nay, I fear these vicious creatures. Must I ride one?"
Lathi also waited, her dark eyes huge and fearful as she clung to Jaelle'n's arm.
The man glared at them, clearly impatient. "Where we go you cannot walk, silly girls. This comalo is gentle and well mannered. Anyway, one of us will lead her. Get on. We do not have all day."
Reluctantly, Jaelle'n edged closer and finally put her foot into the notch and swung herself into the rear seat, both her legs on the beast's left side. The handler nudged Lathi to the opposite side, and when she hesitated, simply grabbed her by the waist and slung her into the saddle. They both clutched everything they could grab when the comalo lurched to its feet with a groan of protest.
"Ayeee," Lathi wailed. "I feel like I am in a tall tree and the wind is blowing very hard! Surely I will fall and be trampled."
Jaelle'n did not wail, although she felt like it.
Moments later, the gates swung wide and the caravan began to assemble in the street. The man who had made them mount jumped on another comalo and fell in near the front of the procession, tugging at the lead on their mount. The group began to move, the shuffling steps of the comalos and the muted calls of the handlers echoing off the buildings.
After a short time, Jaelle'n began to get the rhythm of the beast's strides, different from that of a horse, but not uncomfortable. There was a rocking sensation as if the creature swayed from side to side with each step, but surprisingly little bounce or bump to the gait. From her perch on the tall animal's back, she got a view of the city she had not seen before, and began to look around as they followed a meandering path leading to the outer walls.
Resolutely she ignored the view of Aguilar's compound as they passed it, heading out the road into the desert. She could not dwell on the hours she had spent there, the time in Aguilar's bed, in his arms, or she would fall to pieces. Instead she looked ahead and watched the tall man who led the group. He sat his big dark-brown comalo as if he had been born there. Although his flowing robes and face veil hid him from view, nothing could conceal his proud stature, his grace and powerful physique.
A tiny quiver of anticipation flowed through Jaelle'n in spite of herself. If she had to have a new master, surely she could have done worse. The veil might hide a horrible visage, scarred or twisted to grotesquerie, but somehow she could not believe it did. A man of such arrogant carriage and confidence would surely be comely. A huge curved scimitar rode on his wide back in an elaborate sheath. A flashing green gem winked from the pommel, high over his left shoulder. More gems shone on the wide leather belt that circled his waist, holding his robe close to his body. The rough tiara that held his veil and head covering in place also gleamed like gold and twinkled with shining stones. That he was rich could not be doubted. It seemed as if the 35,000 rajans he had paid for Lathi and Jaelle'n was but a pittance to him.
The sun hung low on the horizon when they rounded yet another tall dune and came upon a camp, a circle of wide white tents set around a well. Cheerful voices hailed the caravan as they approached, and more robed men swarmed out to unsaddle comalos and lead them off to be watered and fed. After the leader's comalo knelt to let him dismount, he handed the rein to a youth in a striped robe, who said something to him with a cocky grin. The man cuffed the boy on the shoulder, but in a manner more affectionate than punishing. He strode away to the largest tent and disappeared inside.
At the handler's command, Jaelle'n and Lathi's mount also knelt. They scrambled from their perches and stood swaying, the sand uncertain beneath their feet after the ride. Moments later, a robed figure approached them, one which Jaelle'n instinctively felt was a woman. When she spoke, Jaelle'n knew her guess was correct.
"I am Zamita and my task is to serve you and care for your needs. You will be weary from travel and in need of refreshment. Every comfort awaits you. Come with me, ladies."
Although her voice had a much younger sound, something about Zamita reminded Jaelle'n of Madame Tanith. The small woman led them to another tent, not far from the Prince's and only a little bit smaller. Jaelle'n could barely hold back a gasp of astonishment when she paused inside the entry. Except for the shape, she would think herself in a luxurious house. Beautiful rugs in bright hue
s covered the floor. Hangings in similar patterns divided the tent into rooms. Although there was not a great deal of furniture, plump pillows and cushions made up for the lack of chairs and bedsteads. Sandalwood and other rare spices scented the air, thin trails of smoke rising from several incense burners scattered around on small low tables that looked almost like the comalo saddles.
In one smaller area, a big brass tub full of water sat behind a screen, ready for them to bathe. Lathi insisted Jaelle'n go first, but the water seemed to be untainted by the dust of their journey as if it stayed fresh by some arcane means. Zamita helped them comb their hair and brought clean robes for them--both white in the desert style, but gauze-fine rather than heavy like the men wore.
Then they had food and drink, cool beakers of fruity punch and the dates, fruit and cheeses they had become accustomed to while at Aguilar's.
When darkness fell, Zamita lit small lamps, strategically placed to cast a soft inviting glow around the area where the two women lounged on heaps of pillows.
What comes next? Was not the Prince curious about his expensive acquisitions? Would he want to sample one or both of them?
Jaelle'n absently fingered her jewelry as she wondered. Lathi sat silently, staring into space with a melancholy expression. Jaelle'n sighed. Aguilar and Cragan were far away now, no longer part of their lives.
What comes next?
Chapter 8
The Final Taming
* * *
A sound at the entryway alerted both women. A small man stood in the doorway, one hand pushing aside the veiling of fabric that kept insects from flocking in. Although he wore the robes of the desert men, something about him looked familiar.
Cragan? How could it be?
Lathi leapt to her feet and dashed across the tent. She skidded to a stop, dropping her arms to her sides. "I--Master, what do you here?"
He shook his head to send the hood sliding down behind his back, then gave her a crooked smile. "Aye, you name me correctly, girl. Master. I am now truly your master. T'was my rajans that paid your price this day. Does this please you?"
She gasped, then nodded, eyes brilliant with unshed tears. "Aye, Master, it pleases me much, but what matters more is whether or not it pleases you."
He laughed. "Would I have thrown away that much gold on a slave I did not want? Come, girl, there is a place for you in another tent."
Jaelle'n watched in shock as Lathi followed Cragan from the tent. What was the small man doing here? Did that mean?--could the Prince actually be?--no, it was not possible! Why would Aguilar buy his own slave?
She had only a moment alone with her tangled thoughts. Zamita appeared from behind a screen, where she had been cleaning up after their meal. "Come, it is time for you to attend the Master."
Jaelle'n scrambled to her feet and followed the nimble little woman from the tent. Although the night was dark, the sand reflected enough starlight to clearly show the prince's larger tent, only a few long strides away. They paused at the entryway and Zamita rang a small bell.
From within, a deep voice said, "Enter."
Zamita drew aside the hanging panels, and with surprising strength, pushed Jaelle'n into the tent. She stumbled forward, unbalanced from the unexpected shove. The tall man near the middle of the luxurious space had his back to her. His uncovered head almost brushed the gentle droops of tenting above.
Jaelle'n caught her breath as he turned slowly to face her. Could it be him?
For a moment, in the gilding light of the flickering lamps, he looked--different. More fierce, more wild, more the untamed desert ruler than the suave and urbane slave-trainer she knew. But it was Aguilar. When he smiled at her, her heart stopped, then lurched ahead in a ragged gallop.
"Master..." She stood rooted, unable to move, almost unable to speak. Her eyes drank in his golden splendor. He was so incredibly beautiful. She had feared never to see him again, yet here he stood before her, even more magnificent than she recalled.
For a moment, she feared she would faint. The brilliant hangings swirled and billowed in a nonexistent gale. The ground undulated beneath her feet. She could not draw sufficient air into her straining lungs. Blackness slowly closed in, stealing the light and color until the only visible spot of brilliance was Aguilar's face.
Moments later, his arms closed around her as he scooped her up before she could fall. With a few swift strides, he reached the soft pallet spread on the floor. There was a thick mattress stuffed with the softest down and heaped with silken pillows, screened from the rest of the tent with tapestry hangings. Jaelle'n relaxed in his familiar arms, feeling the stirring heat of his body seep through their robes to warm away the lingering chill of her despair. This was where she belonged--clasped against the wide chest and held securely in the powerful arms of her beloved master.
He lowered her to the pallet, then stood gazing down at her.
"Why? Why did you do this?" The fact she was here gave her the confidence to ask, while the memory of the hours she had spent in his embrace, as well as those she had pined after their parting, demanded an answer.
He shrugged. "Why do I do anything? Because I wanted to. You please me, Jayla, as no other has in longer than I wish to recall. I discovered I did not want to let you go, but once you were in the Challabah, the sale had to go through. So t'was Prince Ayudan of Arad N'ish who decided to purchase you. Cragan had also asked for permission to buy his little barbarian, and seeing how deeply he desired her, I could only agree. The money all came back to Aguilar's coffers except for the auction fee, so I was not out all that much."
For that, she glared at him.
He laughed. "However, it will go on record that the highest price ever paid for a slave in the Challabah was paid by a Prince of the East for one Cymryddan princess with fire-hued hair. No matter that Ayudan and Aguilar are one and the same."
Should I allow that fact to mollify me? She was not sure.
"Shed the robe, Jayla, so your new master can look upon that which he purchased for such a dear price."
Her hands hesitated upon her sash. She looked up at him, too curious to be cautious. "Are you truly Prince Ayudan?"
He nodded, going suddenly somber. "I was adopted by Shah Kaliban many seasons ago and made second among his sons after I saved the life of his eldest in battle. Until then, I had been a mercenary slave. He gifted me first with my freedom, then kinship within his regal family. I have many names and identities, as well as many homes around the civilized world, all of which you will come to know in time. It matters not--you are mine, and where I go, you shall go also."
Satisfied with his declaration, Jaelle'n sat up and slid the robe from her shoulders. With a sinuous twist, she rose to her knees as she undid the sash, letting the fabric part, gradually opening across her breasts, over her belly. With the supple grace of a cobra's glide, she drew her left arm free of the sleeve, then similarly extracted the right, turning to drop to all fours while she let the open robe flow from her body. She stretched and twisted, rolled her hips and arched her back, then sank gently onto her stomach and writhed, pressing her body into the silken coverlet. Lifting her head with a smooth arching stretch, she rose to support herself on one hand while she reached with the other to extract the golden pins and comb from her hair. The thick mass unwound from its elaborate plaiting, spilling like liquid fire over her shoulders and around her face.
With a deep sense of satisfaction she heard Aguilar--or Ayudan--gasp, and felt the heat of his gaze upon her. Determined to reward him for his elaborate ploy to purchase her, she bent every skill toward the most seductive performance she could create. Before she permitted him to take her, she would make him burn. And in so doing, she would show him how she also burned for him.
She rolled to her side, facing him and languidly lifted her right leg high, revealing to his avid gaze the pink moist slit within her fiery pubic curls. With her right hand, she traced along the curve of her hip, into the hollow of her waist and up to the peak of her breast.
She raised her glance to meet his for an instant, then demurely dropped her gaze, as if shy. Tossing back her hair, she arched again, lifting from the bed to balance on one foot and one hand, all the rest of her body reaching toward him in a yearning bow.
He groaned, his hands unsteady as he released the leather belt at his waist, dragged his robe off his shoulders and let it fall. Using the toe of one foot, he levered off his other boot, then switched feet to remove the second one. Now he stood nude before her, golden in the lamplight, erect and ready. "By the Mother, woman," he said hoarsely, "you have taunted me enough!" He took a long step and settled onto his knees on the edge of the pallet, reaching for her as he knelt.
She twisted away, just beyond his grasp and smiled, running her tongue across her lips. "I think my Master is not quite ready," she said, her taunting glance flickering over his stiff shaft and quivering body. "Another moment, but then perhaps I am not ready..."
She lowered herself back to the bed, stretched, and ran both her hands down her body from her throat to her hips. With one hand, she toyed with the coppery curls and slipped in a finger to touch her bud of pleasure. She was so aroused she almost moaned at her own touch, knowing his would be even more thrilling. If I were any more ready, I would melt, but he needn't know that just yet.
He growled low in his throat, a panther's warning, and lunged to capture her. This time she made no effort to evade him. Seizing her in a fierce embrace, he swung her from the pallet and crushed her against his chest. His lips closed over hers in a branding kiss. "You're mine," he rumbled, raising his head just long enough to speak the words. He kissed her again, thrusting his tongue into her mouth to duel with hers. "You are mine!" He slid his lips from hers to rain kisses along her jaw line, trace down her throat with a moist tongue, circle each ear, then tug playfully at her earrings with his lips, only to soothe the lobes with feather-soft kisses. "You are mine, forever and always!"