Rory said, “Captain, I want you and your men to ride for the castle in Aluria. You must tell the king what has happened here."
"Yes, my lord. And when he asks what you are doing, what shall I say?"
"Tell him my mission is unchanged. I will find and return Lady Bethany."
As the King's Own contingent rode off, Swiftstalker said, “We're going to need some camels."
Chapter 23
It was a long walk to the oasis, and Ilara spent the time teaching Bethany the language of the nomads while pointing out some of the beauties of the desert. At Bethany's urging, Ilara explained her own history.
"I was raised on a small farm in Aluria. When I was sixteen, I was taken in a border raid by the nomads. I wasn't pretty or exotic enough to appeal to anyone for their harem, so I have just been one of their many slaves. For the first few years, I was like you, working at cleaning the tents and serving their food. One day, something about me attracted the eye of one of their younger leaders, a man named Omar, and I was given to him. I was terrified but he was really a kind and patient man who took his time to teach me about what goes on between a man and a woman. I grew to love him and bore him two sons. One day, he was killed in a border raid into Westfell and the Great Forest. I was sent back to the slave tents and have been there ever since."
"What became of your sons?"
"They are still with the tribe. They were both part of the group that moved the horses to their summer pastures. Each nomad tribe has a defined territory and they roam within that area. As summer approaches, all of the tribes head for the Oasis of the Moon to renew their bonds with the caliph and discuss affairs that impact all tribes. After that meeting is done, they will separate again to roam their territory once more. When they reach the edge of their lands near the borders, they will recover their horses and begin to raid Aluria again."
"How many tribes are there?"
"There are ten major tribes but each one has smaller groups such as this one. You see, the desert is such a harsh place that it would not be possible for a major tribe to travel as a group due to the scarcity of food and water. Instead, they are broken down into these smaller groups while they roam the desert. The only time they gather in one place is at the Oasis of the Moon so they can demonstrate the strength of the tribe to their caliph. The stronger the tribe in terms of men, weapons, and camels, the better their standing within the ten and the more influence they have with the caliph."
That discussion did not prepare her for the sight of the Oasis of the Moon. Bethany had been expecting a small clump of trees around a small spring. Instead there was a very large freshwater lake and a huge walled city, surrounded by a sea of nomad tents numbering in the thousands. She had never dreamed there were so many nomads. It gave her a chill when she finally grasped how large the Great Desert of Solange must be to support such a huge population of wandering tribes.
Their group made its way down through the sea of tents to an area reserved for them within the boundaries of their tribe. The close proximity of their camp to the walls of the city told Bethany that this small group was high in the hierarchy of their tribe, a fact confirmed when Ilara explained, “Our group leader is the first son of the tribe leader. Once day he shall take over the position, so his father keeps him close to learn. This is why our group brings the gifts for the caliph."
"What kinds of gifts?"
"The caliph receives a part of all things taken during raids against the infidels, which includes everyone who is not a nomad. Whether it is gold and jewels or just livestock and slaves, a part must be given over to him each year. You will be one of those gifts. The presentation will be in three days. While the camp is set up, I am to take you to the First Wife. If she accepts you as the Gift, we will begin to prepare you for presentation to the caliph. You must cooperate with everything we do, child, or you will be punished."
There was a whirlwind of activity ahead of them as the caravan reached their designated place. Hundreds of slaves, men and women, began to strip the camels of their loads. The tents seemed to spring up from the ground in mere minutes and campfires were set ablaze to begin cooking for those fresh from the desert. After having their heavy packs taken away, Ilara led Bethany through the bustling confusion to a grand tent closer to the city wall. Although this tent was ringed with warriors, none stopped them as they ducked through the opening. “Do not speak unless given leave, child,” Ilara whispered as they passed inside.
This was the tent of the tribal leader and within its walls lived his harem. Ilara led Bethany deeper into the carpeted interior, finally reaching her goal. Motioning Bethany to kneel as she did, they knelt before an empty cushion and waited, their foreheads pressed to the carpet.
After a few moments, a woman's voice spoke in the language of the nomads. “Greetings, Ilara. You have brought the Gift. Does she understand our words?"
"She has learned much as we traveled, honored mother."
"And what do you think? Will she please the caliph?"
"I believe so, honored mother."
"Show me,” the woman commanded.
Ilara told Bethany to stand and then removed all of Bethany's clothing. As the woman stared at Bethany, Bethany was able to study her in return. The honored mother was the First Wife of the tribe leader, a position of great power for it was she who ruled all the other wives and the staff that served in this household. Expecting to see a woman in the shapeless black robe, Bethany was surprised to see the woman did not dress that way. Instead she wore a beautiful silk form-fitting dress in vibrant colors. Her long black hair had been dusted with crushed pearls and hung down her back in a loose braid that reached the floor as she sat. A band of cloth with gold disks the size of a robin's egg circled her forehead. Her dark eyes had been lined with kohl, and pearl powder had been used to color her eyelids. Many gold bracelets adorned her arms, which were otherwise bare from the shoulders down. The nails of her fingers and toes had been painted with still more crushed pearls so they glittered.
"Turn her around, Ilara."
Bethany slowly turned so the First Wife could view all of her.
"You are right, Ilara, she is quite exotic and may appeal to the caliph. You must prepare her well,” the First Wife said. “Why does she still wear that necklace?"
"It is enchanted, honored mother, and none may remove it without death."
"Do you believe such nonsense?"
"I do, honored mother, because one who tried was burned alive by a fire that nothing would put out. She has told me the enchantment was set using the magic of the elves even as the pendant was crafted."
"This may be a problem, Ilara. I must think on how best to explain this to the caliph when she is presented."
The First Wife pondered a moment and then looked directly at Bethany. “Do you understand me, child?"
"Yes, honored mother,” Bethany said.
"Good. It is possible you may be acceptable to the caliph. If you are, it will bring great honor to this tribe. If, by some action of yours, he rejects you, then I shall make your life as a slave a living hell to repay the damage done to us. Do we have an understanding between us?"
As Bethany nodded, she was struck by how much this woman reminded her of Queen Beatrice.
Ilara told Bethany to kneel once more and both women pressed their foreheads against the carpet as the First Wife withdrew from the room. Once she was gone, Ilara told Bethany to get dressed and then led her from the tent. Ilara then led her to a gate in the city wall. They passed down many winding and narrow streets until they reached a door no different than the hundreds of others they had passed. Ilara knocked and the door swung open.
The man who answered the door was the largest one Bethany had ever seen. From the top of his bald head to the soles of his bare feet, he stood almost seven feet tall. He was naked from the waist up, and Bethany could not believe how muscled his chest appeared with arms as big around as most men's legs. His skin was black as night. He wore a flat gold collar arou
nd his neck, bright red pants, and a wide gold sash. He also carried a curving sword that seemed to be as long as Bethany was tall.
"I am Ilara and I bring the Gift to be prepared."
The black giant stepped aside and permitted the two women to enter. After closing and barring the door, he leaned his massive shoulders against it, still holding the oversized scimitar. Ilara led the way deeper into the building. “These are the caliph's baths that have been assigned to our tribe. Half of the building is reserved for the men, and the rest is for the free women of the tribe. The only slaves you will find here are those who work within the building. As the Gift, you will be sequestered here over the next few days. I want you to pay attention to what happens. This is what your life will be like if you are accepted by the caliph. You do not want to know what it would be like should he reject you."
Bethany looked around as she listened to Ilara. While the building had been plain white outside, inside the floors and walls were covered with ceramic tiles in colorful repeating patterns. They entered a room with turquoise-colored tile walls and stark white flooring. Islands of colorful pillows in red with gold tassels dotted the floors. There was also a very fat bald man wearing white pantaloons, a powder blue tunic, and gold slippers and sash.
His voice was high, more like a woman's, when he said, “Greetings, Ilara. This is the Gift?"
"I am pleased you remember me, Sasha. It has been a long time since I was permitted through those doors,” Ilara said in response. “Yes, this is the Gift. We will need all the time available to prepare her.” Turning to Bethany, she said, “Child, this is Sasha, the caliph's master of the baths. You must do as he says."
Sasha waddled over to Bethany, and she realized he was also very short, barely reaching her chin. “Take off your veil and headdress."
Bethany removed her veil and the black scarves that covered her head. Sasha told her to kneel, and once she was on her knees, he began to explore her hair. “No lice or other vermin. Her hair is a lovely color, like she is wearing the final rays of a sunset.” He walked around her, cupped her chin in his chubby hand, and said, “Unusual eyes, too. More green than blue. Hmmm.
"Well, let's get started. Take her to the baths, Ilara, and then we'll see what we have to work with.” Sasha waved a fat hand toward the other door.
Ilara led Bethany through the door and into a chamber with a large pool of water sunk into the floor with wisps of steam rising from it. There were three slave girls in the room, each wearing only a cloth wrapped around their waist. They came over to Bethany and began to remove her robes.
"What are they doing, Ilara?"
"Preparing to bathe you, child. Get into the pool now."
After being bathed and having her hair washed, Bethany was told to lie upon a nearby pallet where the slave girls began massaging a scented lotion into her skin. “This lotion will not only soften your skin, it will also retard the growth of your body hair. Over the next three days, you will be bathed and massaged with this lotion twice a day. Should you be accepted into the caliph's harem, this will only be needed once a month."
One of the slave girls began combing out Bethany's long hair, creating a shimmering fall of copper that cascaded down her bare back. The scented oil the slave combed into Bethany's hair eliminated any tangles and increased the natural shine. Bethany realized she was enjoying having her hair brushed this way as she had always had trouble doing it herself because of its length.
Sasha walked into the chamber carrying some clothes and Bethany screamed as she tried to grab a towel to cover herself with.
"Oh, don't be silly. Your body holds no interest to me except whether it will be pleasing to the caliph. Now stop that noise and stand up straight."
Ilara said, “Sasha is not a man. He is an eunuch. Why else would he be in charge of the women's bathhouse? Now do as you're told, girl, and stand up."
Bethany had never met a eunuch before but she knew of the practice of taking a young boy and gelding him. She slowly dropped the towel and stood up. She'd never imagined the first time she would be nude in front of a man, it would be a eunuch!
Sasha walked around her, commenting, “Nice figure but her nipples are too pale. We'll need to enhance them with some color, I think. Beautiful hair. Is she a virgin?"
Ilara said, “It has been verified by the tribe midwife."
Sasha looked pleased. “That is good. I recall what happened when one of the tribes gave the caliph an impure woman as a Gift. Oh, stop glaring at me, you silly girl! Look at the pretty clothes I have brought for you.” He held out the filmy garments to her. “Ilara, help her dress and take her to her chamber at once. I cannot abide women!” He stormed from the room with all the grace of a pregnant cow.
The sight of the fat eunuch waddling from the room with his nose up in the air was enough to bring a smile to Bethany's face. Until she caught a good look at the clothes Ilara expected her to wear.
"Ilara, I can't wear those. You can practically see through them!"
"Child, you will be living in this bathhouse for the next three days. No one will see you except me, the slaves, and Sasha. Now you can either put these on or go naked, your choice. I've had enough of your nonsense. You are a slave and you better learn to do as you're told."
"I will not wear them. Give me back the black robe if there will be no one to see me in this place."
"You defy me? I warned you that you must obey or be punished. Put these on!"
"No!"
"Very well.” Ilara signaled to the three slaves, who rushed over and pushed Bethany back onto the raised pallet. One sat on her calves, another on her back, while the third held Bethany's hands outstretched. Ilara picked up a limber length of thin wood, swished it through the air with a whistling sound, and then slapped the flat of the wood across the instep of Bethany's left foot. Bethany screamed at the unexpected sharp pain.
"The beauty of this punishment is, for all the pain it brings, it leaves no mark on the skin.” Another swing of her arm and the wood slapped the right instep. Bethany screamed again, both her feet on fire.
"I can keep this up for far longer than you can withstand it. Now put on the clothes."
Bethany grudgingly put on the immodest garments. The first item was a small translucent garment, which looked like a pair of legless breeches that fit snugly across her hips, covering her from there to her waist, yet left her legs bare. Over this was worn a pair of sheer trousers gathered at the ankles and waist which caused them to balloon out over her legs. The sleeveless vest was also translucent and ended just below her breasts, leaving her stomach exposed. One small ribbon held the vest closed. Soft slippers were placed on her feet and her hair was braided into a single braid that fell the length of her spine.
She looked at herself in the polished metal mirror and did not really recognize the reflection as that of Lady Bethany, lady-in-waiting to Queen Beatrice of Aluria. The woman looking back at her was a stranger.
"Come with me,” Ilara said. “I will show you where we will be staying and get you something to eat. You're becoming skinny and nomad men like some meat on their women."
Chapter 24
Rory and Swiftstalker sat atop their camels and stared in awe at the assembled mass of humanity represented by the sea of tents that surrounded the Oasis of the Moon. The tents stretched for miles around the city and every foot of that distance was covered by nomad warriors.
"And just how can we possibly slip through there to reach that city, lad?"
"Can you swim, Uncle?"
Swiftstalker looked out at the vast lake. He knew they would have to enter the lake far from the encircling tents and swim out into its center. Then they would have to swim as silently as possible to the wall, find some way to gain entry into the city itself, and then locate Lady Bethany. If that weren't hard enough, they would then have to get back out again without being slaughtered by the million or so nomad warriors outside the city walls. “Yes, I can swim but I don't think it's the best way in o
r out."
"It no longer matters, Uncle. We have company approaching.” Rory indicated the large dust cloud approaching from beyond the dunes behind them.
Rory stripped off his robes, revealing his mithrail mail shirt and freeing him to fight. Swiftstalker quickly shed his own robes as the first of the host of nomad warriors crested the dune.
Rory slipped from his camel and waited as the warriors came to a stop.
* * * *
There was a muttered conversation between the warriors as they eyed the two gleaming apparitions before them.
"What can they be except djinn? Look how tall they are and how they shine in the sun,” said the leader of the warrior patrol.
The warrior next to him said, “They are infidels, no more. If you fear to face them, I shall do it.” With those words, he spurred his camel forward and charged toward Rory, waving his scimitar wildly in a circle over his head.
Rory waited until the last possible second and then ducked. His swords flashed briefly in the sun then returned to their scabbards. The warrior's saddle slid off the camel's back, dumping him onto the sand where he tumbled down the face of the dune. There was not a mark on the camel as it galloped past the downed warrior and away to the city beyond.
Two warriors charged at Rory and once again he waited. He dropped into a forward somersault as they passed; his swords flashed, and both warriors followed their predecessors down the dune, their saddles tumbling behind them.
The warrior leader held up his hand to stop anyone else from charging, and said, “Greetings, mighty warriors of the djinn. How may we be of service?"
Swiftstalker said, “We have come to speak with the caliph."
The warrior considered this. “We can escort you to the caliph's court but we cannot be sure he will see you."
"Lad, remember the last time we had a nomad escort,” Swiftstalker muttered.
"Would you prefer to kill them all and still have to fight our way into the city, oh great Lord of the Forest?” Rory whispered back. “They refer to us as djinn. Is that not a magical being of the desert?” Facing the warriors once more, he spoke loudly, “We would be honored to have your escort but know this. We are, in truth, djinn.” Concentrating while pulling from the immense life force around them, Rory created a good-sized snowball and tossed it to the startled warrior leader.
The Heir Of Westfall [The Alurian Chronicles Book 1] Page 23