All the Sweet Tomorrows

by Bertrice Small

  Osman had also studied his nephew’s natal chart quite carefully, for Kedar figured so importantly in this matter. Kedar was strong, and his stars were equally strong, but the influences controlling Skye’s chart were far more powerful, and Osman knew that she would be able to control her own destiny even in his nephew’s hands. A small smile played about the astrologer’s mouth and crinkled the corners of his eyes. He imagined that right now the exhausted Skye was yet in shock after a night with Kedar. Osman had to admit that his nephew was the most sexual man he had ever known, and his capacity for women was legendary even in Fez. Still, once Skye recovered from her initial trauma and her survival instincts surfaced, she would be formidable. Osman felt almost sorry for Kedar. He knew that his nephew had never been in love, and he hoped that Skye would not arouse that emotion in him. He did not want to hurt him. It was difficult being torn between such a good friend as Skye and his family.

  Osman emptied his mind now of all thought, and relaxing his body, he began to meditate. Alima found him that way some time later in the morning. Gently she shook her husband, understanding what it was he did. The life came slowly back into the astrologer’s eyes, and smiling up at his lovely wife, he said, “Kedar is awake, and wishes to know if I will eat the midday meal with him.”

  Alima laughed and shook her head at him. “I don’t know why I even bothered to come and get you,” she said. “Couldn’t you at least humor me by pretending that you don’t know what I have to say before I even speak?”

  “You are too easy,” he teased her back. “Your mind is like crystal to me. I know all where you are concerned, my love.”

  “All?” Alima smiled provocatively at her husband.

  “Woman, your thoughts are much too immodest!” Osman pretended displeasure, but Alima was not one bit fooled.

  “It will be a long, hot afternoon, my husband, and I will wager that your nephew will not waste it idly.”

  Osman chuckled, and then he asked, “How is Muna?”

  “At this moment her thoughts of you are not entirely kindly, my lord. She is in the baths. She would speak with you, she says, before Kedar calls her to him again.”

  Osman nodded. “I can enter the women’s quarters without any question since this is my house. When she is safely back in her own chamber, Alima, then send for me. We three will speak together. It is better you be with us, as there is no true privacy for us and your presence, my wife, will divert suspicion.”

  Alima nodded. “I will arrange everything, my lord,” she said, and then left him.

  Osman rose from the cushions and went to find Kedar. He was curious as to what his nephew had to say about the new slave girl, Muna. Kedar had bathed earlier, and now lay stretched out upon his couch while his personal body slave, a giant black named Dagan, massaged him. Seeing his uncle, he waved the slave away and pulled a length of cloth about his loins. Osman noted Kedar’s powerful chest and muscled arms. He was in excellent physical condition, which, considering his appetites, Osman thought, was amazing. Youth, he decided, was obviously the key.

  “Uncle!” Kedar’s greeting was enthusiastic. “How do I thank you for Muna? She is incredible, magnificent! I have not enjoyed a woman so in years!”

  “I am pleased to have given you such pleasure with so small a trifle as a slave girl, my nephew.”

  Kedar grinned. “You were right, of course. She is quite unschooled, but she is intelligent, I can see, and will be easily trained despite the streak of stubbornness I find in her. Firmness is the key to managing a woman. Firmness and discipline. One should never be afraid to punish even a beautiful creature like Muna.”

  “You did not punish her?” Osman tried to keep the nervousness from his voice. “The girl cost me a pretty penny, Kedar.”

  “Allah, no!” Kedar laughed. “I’m afraid I grow weak with age, Uncle. I could not destroy that gorgeous skin she possesses. If Muna should ever become recalcitrant I shall have to think of a way to punish her without using the lash. No, but she sought to defy me a little last night, and I was forced to be quite firm. She responded well, and became quite pliant afterward.”

  “Yes,” Osman answered, “I suspect that reason will always overcome any outbursts on Muna’s part. Tell me, nephew, how long will you be with me this trip? We had so little time to speak last night, so eager were you to have the slave girl. I understood, of course. Your trip from Fez was a long and lonely one.”

  “I am no longer lonely,” Kedar smiled. “I shall probably stay with you a good month or more, Uncle. I have a great deal of business to conduct while I am here in Algiers, and now that you have made me so comfortable I am in no hurry to depart.”

  The two men chuckled companionably and, after a few more minutes of idle conversation, ate a light repast. Then Osman excused himself and hurried to the women’s quarters. He found both his wife and Skye awaiting him in Skye’s bedchamber. “Good day, my daughter,” he said calmly.

  Skye glowered at Osman, and then a small smile touched her lips. “I cannot say that you did not warn me that he was a lustful man, Osman,” she said, “but you did not tell me that he was built like a bull, and totally insatiable. I am exhausted, having been at his tender mercy this past night. Still, I know that it is the only way for me to reach Fez, to free my husband. Now, however, we must speak seriously.”

  Osman nodded. “You have doubts, I know.”

  “You are certain that your younger nephew, Hamal, will aid me in rescuing Niall? If the boy truly loves his princess perhaps he will have had second thoughts by now.”

  “I am in constant touch with Hamal, Muna.” He looked closely at her. “But if Hamal should change his mind, my daughter, what would you do? You would not, I know, leave your husband to languish in the princess’s harem.”

  “No, Osman, I would not. I should find a way.”

  “I know,” came the answer. “It is your fate to travel to Fez.”

  “Is it my fate to return, Osman?” Skye’s glance was a candid one.

  “You will see your green land again, my daughter,” was his reply. “Now tell me what else it is that troubles you.”

  “It is your nephew, Osman. He is a frighteningly possessive man. Will he allow me any measure of freedom or will I find myself walled up in his harem?”

  “I will speak to him, Muna. He has told me that he intends to stay a month here in Algiers. I will convince him of the need to allow you to move about the city, properly attired, of course.”

  “He plans to stay a month? Osman, can you not convince him to spend less time here? You yourself said that every minute counts!”

  “He is just arrived yesterday, my daughter. I can hardly send him back today. I do not know what his business is, but I shall soon learn it. Perhaps then I may speed his affairs along, and you will return to Fez at an earlier date. Be patient, my daughter. You have yet to learn that everything will take place in its own time, and not a moment before.”

  A knock sounded upon the door, and a slave girl put her head into the room. “The lord Kedar has sent his slave, Dagan, to bring Muna to him.”

  Skye nodded. “I will come,” she said, and the girl departed the room. Skye rose. “It is barely two hours after noon,” she said, making a small moue with her mouth. “I did manage to get six hours’ sleep. Heaven only knows how long it will have to last me!”

  “He will probably leave you this evening to have dinner with friends and conduct some business,” Osman said reassuringly.

  “He will return though, old friend, and he will expect me to be eagerly awaiting him.”

  “And you will,” Osman said quietly.

  “Yes,” Skye replied. “I will.” Then she was gone from the room, and Alima looked to her husband with troubled eyes.

  “Will she be all right, my husband? We should ill repay the kindness of the late Khalid el Bey should we put her in any danger.”

  “You are a gentle flower, my Alima,” Osman said, “but for all her delicate looks Skye is tempered of as fin
e a steel as the Toledo blade. She cannot be broken or bent. She will survive, never fear.”

  While Osman reassured his wife, Skye was following the huge Dagan through the house back to Kedar’s chambers. The few hours’ sleep and the steam of the bath had combined to give her a radiant glow. Her cheeks were flushed rose, and her eyes sparkled like a fine Ceylon sapphire. She wore a simple gauze caftan of turquoise blue, and her black hair had been braided into one thick plait and dressed with tiny freshwater pearls and silver lamé ribbons.

  Kedar’s eyes lit up at the sight of her. He reminded her of a panther contemplating its meal, and Skye suppressed a small shiver as she slipped to her knees, bent forward, and touched her forehead to his slipper. “Rise, Muna,” he said, pulling her eagerly up to him. “Dear Allah, how is it possible that you are so radiant?” His mouth descended quickly upon hers, and Skye slid her arms about him, pressing her lush form against him. Kedar shuddered, and pulled away in surprise. “No woman has ever done that to me,” he said, looking at her curiously.

  “I did not mean to displease you, my lord,” she said meekly.

  “I know that, beautiful one. I am simply surprised at myself. I thought having sated myself upon your beautiful body just several hours ago I would be replete. No woman has ever touched me as you have, and I find, however, that I am not.”

  “You have but to command me, my lord Kedar.”

  A slow smile lit his features, and he turned to the black slave who stood awaiting his master’s commands. “Well, Dagan, did my uncle not present me with a perfect jewel?”

  “Yes, master. The lord Osman was most generous.”

  Kedar turned to Skye. “And you, my fair Muna. What do you think of Dagan? He has been with me for ten years now, and I trust him with my life.”

  “I did not speak to the man, my lord, not knowing if it was permitted.”

  Kedar laughed. “Dagan is not a man, my beautiful slave. He is a eunuch. I should not allow him near you were he not gelded.” He turned to the slave. “Stay, Dagan. I want to give Muna the lesson I give all the women I take into my harem.”

  The black man smiled broadly. “Yes, master!”

  Kedar gently began to unbutton the little pearl buttons that held together the halves of Skye’s caftan. When they were all undone he pushed the gown off her shoulders, and it silently slid to the floor. She stood very still while his hands wandered casually over her breasts. “Each woman, my fair Muna, should have something to fear. Most of the women in my harem fear the lash should they displease me, but your skin is so incredibly lovely that I would never mark it. It was therefore necessary to devise a punishment that you would fear, and I have decided on the bastinado. Have you ever suffered this form of chastisement?”

  “No, my lord.” She knew of the bastinado, of course, but never had Khalid used such cruelty.

  “Then you cannot be fearful of that which you do not know. I intend to give you a lesson in the bastinado now, my fair Muna. You will then understand and be afraid. You will also comprehend that if you should at any time displease me, you will be put to this discipline.” Kedar turned to Dagan. “I will hold her,” he said, and then he instructed Skye in a quiet voice. “I want you to lay upon your back on the floor and elevate your legs upon these pillows.”

  Skye was terrified. “My lord,” she pleaded with him, “please do not do this!”

  For a moment he was tender, gathering her into his arms and crooning to her. “There, my jewel, of course you are frightened, but I will not excuse you this lesson. Only when you have felt the pain can you be truly afraid. Only then will I have a deterrent to unruly behavior. Come, Muna, it will only be five strokes. Were I really punishing you it would be twenty or more, depending upon your offense.” He drew her down to the rug, kneeling with her, positioning her with great care. Then he sat across her hips and, leaning forward, held her slender legs in a firm grasp. “Begin, Dagan,” he commanded the black.

  The sharpness of the first blow caused her to cry out. Over Kedar’s bowed head Dagan grinned cruelly down at her as he administered the second fierce blow. This time Skye shrieked in earnest. “Please, my lord Kedar! Please, no more! No more!” Kedar was, however, a man of his word, and the third, fourth, and fifth blows fell upon the tender, now burning soles of her feet, the pain so intense that Skye fainted, taking the only escape open to her.

  She was unconscious but a few moments, awakening to Kedar’s purring voice. “There, my jewel, now you know the price of offending me, do you not?”

  “Yes, my lord,” she managed to whisper.

  “Repeat the words I taught you last night, fair Muna.”

  Skye shivered. She knew exactly what he wanted her to say, and every fiber of her being rebelled against saying those words. Still, she was now quite terrified of the bastinado, and realized that should she really displease him, he would not hesitate for a moment to use it again. She rolled onto her stomach, and from there into a kneeling position, her dark head touching the rug. “I am my lord Kedar’s slave,” she said low. “I exist solely for his pleasure.”

  Above her, Kedar smiled, satisfied, and raised her up to face him. “You learn quickly, my jewel,” he said approvingly. “I believe you will eventually become my favorite.” Tenderly he brushed a tear from her cheek. “There now, fair Muna, there is naught to cry about. You please me mightily.” He smiled down on her, and then drew her over to the awninged couch. She was shivering with shock, and he pulled her gently down upon the couch with him, wrapping his arms around her. “Dagan, fetch refreshments,” he commanded his slave.

  Skye was suddenly very aware of her nudity. “Please, my lord, may I have my garment?”

  “Do not be embarrassed before Dagan, my jewel. It means nothing to him, and I prefer you like this for now.” He kissed her lightly, absently caressing her breasts. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured. “Your skin is so flawless, so perfect.”

  They were words she was to hear over and over again during the next few weeks. She fascinated and consumed him with her beauty. He cared for nothing else. He rarely spoke to her on any subject of importance; his words being those of her master, her lover. Her days took on a pattern of sameness. She slept the morning away, went to him in early afternoon after visiting the baths, left in late afternoon, slept again, bathed, ate supper alone or with Alima, and sometimes Osman, then awaited Kedar’s return from his business and social rounds late in the evening. She then spent the entire night with him, departing in early morning for her own rooms. As a lover, he was insatiable, and totally unlike any man she had ever known. He cared only for his own pleasure, and took her with great gusto at least three times each night, and very often as many as six. He never seemed to tire of exploring, caressing, and kissing her.

  Skye was frankly frightened of Kedar. He was a man of mercurial temperament, and she feared offending him. The threat of the bastinado was a real and terrifying one to her. Still, she sought ways in which to intrigue him, for she did not want him to grow bored with her. She found that quick changes of mood on her part interested him greatly; and so she was shy one moment, daring the next. She knew he particularly enjoyed her reactions to his lovemaking, and so even when he moved too quickly to arouse her she pretended great passion. It stroked his ego, and he rumbled his contentment like the great cat she pictured him. “You are perfection,” he would murmur against her ear. “Sweet, honeyed perfection!” More often than not she would shiver at his words.

  The day before they left Algiers for Fez, Osman came to Skye’s chambers in the women’s quarters. He felt some guilt for the faint purple circles under her eyes, but there was a new air of determination about her that he had never seen before. “I have had word from Hamal, my daughter. He says you are to come ahead. Your Niall still lives.”

  “Thank God!” Skye breathed fervently.

  “Skye,” it was the first time he had called her by her own name in weeks. “I am quite frankly worried about your effect upon Kedar. If you had set out
to enchant him—and I know you have not—you could not have done a better job of it. He can speak of nothing but you and your beauty when he is with me. If I did not know better I should say he is falling in love with you, and that, my daughter, must not happen! I knew his reputation, of course, but frankly, until now I was not fully aware of his appetites. I wonder if I have not set you too hard a task.”

  “You have said it yourself, Osman. There is no other choice. Niall is alive, and I will not rest until I have freed him. How could I, knowing what I know, return to my former life? There is only one way to Fez for me, and I am already on that road. Why do you fret so? Have my stars changed suddenly, Osman?”

  “No, they have not changed. You will always attain your heart’s desire, Skye, though the road to it be roughly paved, though you yourself may not even know what it is you want. In the end you will gain your goals. In this have you been singularly blessed.”

  “Then tomorrow I leave for Fez,” Skye said quietly.

  “Does he abuse you?” Osman flushed at the boldness of his own words to her, but he was truly distressed at the situation in which he had placed her. He had never seen his nephew so consumed by anything, let alone a woman. Then, too, Alima had mentioned that Skye had an occasional bruise, and marks on her body that might possibly indicate that Kedar was mistreating her.

  “Your nephew is enthusiastic in his wooing of me,” Skye said wryly. “No, he has not actually hurt me, although he has threatened me with the bastinado should I misbehave. He illustrated that threat with a sample of that particular punishment. He does not, you see, want to mark my skin with a lash. His small lesson was a warning that my behavior should always be decorous. I will admit, Osman, that he frightens me.”