Tales of the Thasali Harem Box Set

by Danielle Summers

  “Nor he from you, I would hope,” the other man said, his tone edged with a warning.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Sudar. You heard for yourself how well they’ve been trained. They live only to serve and please.”

  “Must be an easy life.” The man addressed as Sudar punctuated his statement with a derisive snort. “I’d like to see any of these soft-skinned palace pets work for their living the way we do.”

  “They earn their keep in other ways. That’s why we bought him, remember? Now come on, before Zav wanders off by himself somewhere.”

  At last, they left him alone in the wagon. Trying to make sense of it all, Charis shifted into a more comfortable position and gnawed at the fabric of his gag. Apparently, these men had purchased him from his original kidnappers, and from what he could make out, they planned to give him as a gift to a third man, this Zav fellow, whoever he might be.

  Again, his cheeks burned with shame and outrage. He was a member of the royal harem, not a slave to be bought and sold! Obviously, the many thieves in the marketplace had progressed beyond the stealing of mere goods and coin, and had set their sights higher. They would soon find themselves sorry beyond belief, though. When Prince Vidnar heard about what had happened—and Charis had no doubt he would—the punishment meted out to his abductors would be swift and severe. Then the prince would rescue Charis and bring him home to the palace and the harem. He had to believe that would happen soon.

  Eventually the curtain at the back of the wagon made that familiar scraping sound again as someone unfastened it and pulled it to one side. Charis heard cursing, and at last the gag and blindfold fell away from his face. He blinked and gratefully gulped deep lungfulls of fresh air.

  The man kneeling beside him seemed familiar, but it took Charis a moment to place him. Then he remembered—this was the third cloth merchant, the one who had averted his eyes when Charis had stood naked in front of Lash the tailor. Charis hadn’t paid much attention to him then, but now he saw that the merchant was a good-looking man, with dark shaggy hair that fell to his shoulders and a scruff of beard that accentuated his prominent cheekbones and big dark eyes.

  Those eyes were narrowed in displeasure just now, which worried Charis for a moment. Then he realized that the merchant, who was presumably the man called Zav, did not direct his annoyance at Charis.

  “Krask! My brothers have a lot to answer for,” he grumbled as he bent down and, to Charis’ relief, untied his wrists and ankles. “I apologize for their brutish behavior. I can assure you I am more civilized, and I knew nothing of their plan until they told me just now.” He stepped back as Charis got slowly to his feet, rubbing his sore wrists. “Barbarians. Making you ride back here with the inventory. I trust you are not injured?”

  Charis glanced at the tattoo that marked him as a harem member. How ironic those bright colors seemed now against his red, chafed skin. His fingers felt a bit numb, so he flexed them until the circulation came back.

  “Do you know why you’re here?” the merchant tried again when Charis failed to answer his previous question.

  Again, Charis ignored him. His anger was too potent to allow him to speak, especially since he feared he might say something that would get him into worse trouble. These people were obviously thieves and had no respect for the royal house, so there was no telling what they might be capable of.

  Undeterred, the merchant pushed on. “I am Zav,” he said, confirming Charis’ earlier suspicion about his identity. “I already know your name is Charis. My brothers have presented you to me as a gift. Not one I asked for or even wanted, mind you. But here you are. And I haven’t the heart to tell them they’ve wasted their money.”

  Charis’ head came up sharply, but again he bit his lips to prevent unpleasant words from spilling out.

  Noting his expression, Zav smiled. “You do have spirit, all right. I was warned about that—in fact, my brothers thought it would endear you to me. We’ll see if they were correct or not. I do want you to know that whatever happened back at the palace, I won’t hold it against you. I’m sure there are two sides to any story, and yours will be interesting when you care to tell it to me. I assume you’re not mute—I heard you speak back at the palace, and you’re welcome to speak here, no matter what anyone might have told you. My brothers may have thought I would prefer no conversation after the arguments Siphu and I had, but they were wrong.”

  A flash of sadness crossed his undeniably handsome face. Charis was curious about that, but he forced himself not to respond emotionally. For all he knew, this man was testing him—tricking him. He resolved not to say a word. That way, he would have the advantage. Instead of responding, he simply glared.

  Seeing that Charis was determined to remain tight-lipped, Zav shrugged. “Anyway, let’s just say I believe in fresh starts and go from there. You can come out of the wagon now, by the way. We’re going to camp here for the night. My brothers are making a fire right now and will be cooking some food soon. You must be ready to eat after the long day you’ve had. I had no idea you were tied up back there, believe me, or I would have insisted we stop much sooner. They only told me you were there after we pulled off the road to make camp.”

  Again, shaking his head in disgust at his brothers’ actions, he returned to the wagon’s back flap and motioned for Charis to follow him out. Charis gave him a wary look before he hesitantly stepped outside. As he had feared, they were well away from the city now, and instead their two merchant wagons sat in a sort of clearing surrounded by huge trees that stretched around them as far as he could see. The sky was a mottled purple color, meaning both suns would soon set and plunge the forest into darkness. Nearby, Zav’s two brothers stood near a fire with various cooking utensils and vessels. They laughed and waved at Zav, who didn’t respond.

  “Those charming fellows are Rohin and Sudar,” Zav told Charis, who pretended not to listen or care. “My brothers. They’re responsible for bringing you here—I promise you again that I had no hand in it.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t be mad for long,” the one Charis assumed was Rohin called out. “Told you that he would cheer you up, Zav!”

  “In the darkness, one man’s flesh is the same as another,” Sudar put in. “Thanks to him, you will forget Siphu in no time, just as we promised!”

  Charis flashed Zav a scowl he couldn’t quite suppress in time. So he had been stolen and purchased to replace some other slave, he assumed—Siphu, whoever that was. Had he run away? Or had these men killed him somehow? A shiver coursed down his spine. Traveling merchants could be ruthless, and it was no secret they would sometimes defend their inventories with bloodshed. In the forests and along the back roads where they spent most of their time, there were no laws, or at least none that could be enforced. Charis himself could easily end up dead and left under a pile of leaves or dirt with no one to know what had become of him…not even Vidnar.

  He must be very careful not to anger any of these men. He would pretend to be passive and cooperative until he figured out what to do next. But if they thought he would stay with them any longer than he had to, they were sadly mistaken.

  Zav blushed at his brothers’ crude banter. “Just ignore them,” he told Charis. “I won’t go into all the details right now, since I’m as hungry as I’m sure you are, but rest assured I don’t share their attitude.”

  He motioned for Charis to step out of the wagon and follow, which Charis did hesitantly. Together they approached the campfire, and the brothers grinned as Zav indicated a spot for Charis to settle himself and then took a seat on the ground beside him. Next Zav lifted a clay jug, and they poured warm water on each other’s hands to clean them before the meal. Charis had to admit that he did feel faint with hunger after being trapped in the wagon for hours.

  He scarcely noticed what they ate—some kind of spicy soup the brothers prepared by throwing dried vegetables and powder into a vat of boiling water. The bread they offered was surprisingly fresh, but he assumed they had bought it i
n the same marketplace they had stolen him from. While he ate, the brothers continued to make crude remarks, and most of their conversation with their brother was laced with innuendo. Charis forced himself not to look at any of them or show his growing fury.

  Finally, the brothers wandered off to tend to the four xoxobeasts that had drawn their two wagons. The beasts were now wandering freely along the edge of the clearing, munching grass and leaves. They seemed content to rest for the night. Charis began to wonder where the three brothers would spend the night—and where they would put him. Zav seemed to read his thoughts.

  “The trailer where my brothers tied you up is their living space,” he explained. “They’ll go back there and stay inside for the night. The other wagon is mine. You’ll be more comfortable there.”

  Charis tensed. Presumably they would be expected to share a bed. Would Zav take him by force if he didn’t offer himself willingly? The prospect of the act itself didn’t frighten him—he had been trained with others before Prince Vidnar had chosen him. Pleasuring men came naturally to him and was not a matter of shame or anxiety. Zav was a handsome man and, in truth, under different circumstances he would have had no objection to enjoying his body and letting Zav enjoy his own. But now that he and Prince Vidnar were in love, things were different. He would be betraying Vidnar.

  No doubt the prince was frantic back in the city, looking for him and wondering where he had gone. When Charis did return—as he vowed to do—he would want to assure Prince Vidnar truthfully that he had preserved himself for his touch and given no favors to anyone else.

  Quickly he scanned the woods as he finished his dinner. The suns had set now, and the shadows stretched long and dark through the scruffy leaves and tree trunks. Off in the distance, he heard what he assumed to be the night calls of forest creatures.

  Charis had no idea what lay beyond those trees, but if he could hide himself in the woods overnight and then somehow trace his way back to the city in the daylight….

  He glanced back at Zav, who was scraping the last of the stew from his bowl. When he saw that neither of the brothers was looking at him, either, Charis leaped to his feet and took off running.

  Chapter Five

  Sharp, pointed branches slashed at Charis as he raced through the darkening woods. In no time, he began to grow winded and his muscles hurt. Before long he heard heavy breathing, and the brush behind him started crackling. He tried to speed up, but within moments a large, solid weight emerged from the gloom and hurled itself against his back. Charis’ breath fled his body when he hit the ground hard.

  Strong fingers gripped his flailing wrists at the same time as powerful legs wrapped around his, rendering him helpless.

  Next, Zav’s voice rumbled in his ear. “I should have known you’d try something like this! My fault for trusting you too soon.” He was panting from exertion, but to Charis’ surprise he sounded amused rather than angry. “Foolish boy! You could have been killed!”

  Charis said nothing as Zav pulled him back up to his feet, keeping hold of his wrists. Charis winced to think of his fine garments rumpled and dirtied from the forest floor, but luckily the dimming light prevented him from being able to make out most of the damage.

  “Why did you do that?” Zav demanded, but again Charis gave no answer.

  “Look. I understand the sentiment. It’s only natural to want freedom. But it’s also natural to want the comforts only society can bring, and my brothers and I are as close to society as you’ll be able to find out here. We’re in the middle of nowhere, in case you hadn’t noticed. You could starve, be attacked by beasts, or set upon by thieves. Those would be worse than the animals once they discover you have nothing to steal except maybe your clothes. They might well do more than just rob you. Come back to the wagon with me. I urge you to come willingly. I could overpower you and drag you behind me, but why go through all that? We are civilized men, are we not?”

  Charis was bewildered. Zav was within his rights to beat him. Maybe he still would, and this kindness was a ruse to get him to come along quietly and face his punishment later. Still, what choice did he have? What Zav said was true. He had no idea where to go or how to survive alone in the woods. Even now, the darkness and hulking shapes of the trees terrified him.

  Glumly, he trudged alongside Zav as they returned to the wagons. Zav took his hand and pulled him inside one of them.

  “Here we are. This meager space is what I call home…for now, at least. I’m afraid it will have to be yours as well for a while. I hope you won’t run out on me again.” As he stared at Charis, Zav rubbed his lightly bearded chin in thought. “I could take your clothes away, I suppose, but I think that might make you even more determined to run. And it wouldn’t be hard for you to steal new ones from a cloth merchant’s wagon. I’ll just have to ask you not to abuse my trust.”

  Sure enough, many garments hung on the walls and were piled on the tables. Some were still pinned together, waiting for a tailor’s hand to finish them. Others looked as though they had been worn and seemed to belong to Zav himself. Charis could not help but admire his taste—all of them struck him as very beautiful and colorful, though in an undeniably masculine sort of way.

  Instead of answering, Charis lowered his eyes to the floor. He hated the thought of having to submit to Zav, but he had no intention of running away again that night. Despite the situation, he was relieved to have shelter for the night. If Zav—or even his brothers—demanded favors of his body in exchange, he would just have to put up with it. He hoped the prince would understand and forgive him when he did get back to the city.

  To his surprise and relief, Zav pointed to a bedroll in one corner of the wagon, nestled among the rolls of cloth and various personal possessions scattered around.

  “You are welcome to share my bed, of course, but I won’t force you. You’ll be warm enough over there. I have extra blankets if you need them. And, for good measure, a nightshirt.”

  He grabbed a bundle off a nearby table and tossed it to Charis. Charis unfurled a knee-length garment made of thick but soft white fabric. It was much sturdier than anything he would have worn in the harem, but nightwear was probably designed for more utilitarian purposes among traveling merchants. It did look and feel as though it would be comfortable to sleep in.

  Zav did not watch Charis change into it, but turned his back and busied himself putting on his own similar nightclothes. Eventually he crawled into a large, low bed tucked into a corner at the far end of the wagon and doused the lantern. Meanwhile, Charis put on the nightshirt and slipped into the bedroll. It was nowhere near as comfortable as the beds at the harem, of course, which were designed for far more than just sleeping, but it was certainly better than the floor of the wagon where he had spent the day.

  He drifted off thinking of Prince Vidnar and imagining him curled up in bed next to him. At one point he woke up, convinced that all he had experienced was really the dream and that he was back in the harem after all. But what he thought was Vidnar’s arm around him was only a twist in the blanket. He was still in Zav’s wagon.

  Charis could not stop the tears that welled up in his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. If only Vidnar hadn’t come to the marketplace too late to save him! At least he had begun to form an idea about who might have arranged his abduction and sale to the cloth merchants. It could not have been a coincidence that the same men had attended the Matriarch’s banquet only a few days before. Charis had no doubt that she—and Baboye, most likely—were behind this attempt to separate him from Vidnar.

  Well, he promised himself, they would not succeed in their reprehensible mission. He would do whatever it took, no matter where these men took him, to get back to the prince whose love he cherished.

  *~*~*

  In the morning, he opened his eyes to find Zav crouching beside the bedroll, looking down at him with apparent concern. Charis could feel the dried tears on his face and assumed Zav could see them, too.

  “You can get up whe
never you want to. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been out heating some water for us to wash in. You’ll feel better afterward. Remember what I said about fresh starts? You can take that literally in this case.”

  Charis nodded and followed Zav across the wagon. Zav picked up a towel and pointed to the same firepit where they had cooked the food the night before. The fire still smoldered, but this time a barrel sat beside the fire, filled with water. A few buckets sat around it.

  “You’re probably used to something much fancier, but we have no bath attendants here. Just a wooden bucket up and over your head, and another if you need it.” Zav laughed. “I was about to cut up some bread and cheese for our breakfast.”

  Charis stared at him, bewildered. Surely, as an indentured servant—he refused to think of himself as a slave, even if that’s what he was, technically speaking—he would be expected to bathe and feed his master and probably his brothers as well. Zav was waiting on him as though he were some sort of honored guest. It had to be a trick of some sort. Perhaps they were still planning to punish him for running away the night before and wanted to lull him into a false sense of safety before they pounced.

  “Don’t worry about my brothers disturbing you,” Zav went on, apparently misreading Charis’ tense expression. “They tend to sleep late when we’re on the road—quite late, in some cases. They have a different attitude than mine. I like to face the day head on.” His mood darkened, just for a moment. “They think that’s because I’m eager to start working. They don’t realize it’s because I have such a hard time sleeping.”

  He put a drying cloth and a fresh outfit in Charis’ hands and laughed while Charis stared at him.

  “Another advantage to bunking with a cloth merchant—lots of new clothes. One of these days, you’re going to talk to me. That’s all right—I can be patient for now.”

  Still baffled, and on guard for most anything, Charis stepped out of the wagon and headed to the water barrel with his drying cloth and new ensemble, which consisted of a simple but serviceable green tunic with long sleeves, which covered his harem tattoo, and tan leggings. He hung the new clothes on a branch, filled two of the buckets with warm water, and ducked behind some shrubs to remove his nightshirt. He kept an eye on the wagons while he poured the two buckets over himself to wash. Zav remained inside, still preparing the breakfast if he had been telling the truth. Though Charis half expected the brothers to leap from the bushes and beat him, neither appeared. Eventually he washed and dressed and returned to Zav’s wagon without incident. As promised, bread and cheese awaited them, as well as two bowls of gilla grain that had been crushed to a sort of paste.