Princess of Zenina

by Giselle Marks

  His reply from the Vatican eventually came through; he was to continue with the year as planned. The Church’s consecration was confirmed by proxy, as was his installation as Bishop in the vast Bishopric of the Zeninan Empire. Everything went well for some years, until the Fertility Cult got enraged that his religion was preaching against indiscriminate sexual behaviour and public debauchery. His insistence that cult membership was a guarantee of descending to the fires of hell was not taken well by cult leaders. They rounded on the Queen and she reluctantly ordered the Church locked.

  Chapter Seventeen – Princess’ Chaplain

  Two years after the consecration of St. Patrick’s, Queen Kerina gave birth to her second daughter, the Princess Marina. So when some years later, there were complaints about Niall, to distance herself from his religion, while refusing the cult’s requests for his execution or exile, she gave the old bishop as tutor to her daughter.

  Princess Marina soon fell under his spell, loving him nearly as much as she did her father Kabaneev and far more than her distant mother. She loved him, learning all he could teach, languages, music, even his bible stories, prayers and hymns. Loved him, but did not convert. His religion irritated her, his beloved Saint Paul said women should not preach and should be obedient to their husbands.

  “What relevance does that have to the lives of Zeninans? His preaching says my mother and sister Plavina are living a life of sin and degradation. What does an ancient celibate know of sex? I doubt it is more than a virgin child of eight.”

  His sermonising against the sexual decadence of Zenina Marina took as a personal affront. His holier than thou attitude irked her. It was not until her tenth birthday she saw a way to halt his moralising.

  Her father had been a wealthy man before Kerina carried him off from Ziga, enslaved and married him. He gave her, his second daughter the title to all his property, thus solving the problem of seeking funds from her mother. Princess Marina offered the equivalent of three months’ pay for an army captain as bounty to anyone who could prove they had bedded Father O’Flaherty. Attempts were made half-heartedly and successfully rebuffed by Niall, who knew nothing of his owner’s bribe. One Silver officer had pressing debts so she was more determined. Her persistence was successful. Marina paid up and prepared to hit back at Niall’s hypocrisy should he dare preach against Zeninan sexual behaviour again. She never had the pleasure.

  Going to his quarters, intending to gloat at his fall, she found him lifeless. He had taken poison. Horrified at what she had done, she found a small spark of life. Stripping his clothes from him, she ripped his stomach open with her knife, spilling the foul contents into a large bowl which had held flowers. Resealing his stomach, forcing his heart to work, she dragged him back to life. When he came to, he found himself bound to his bed and all sharp objects removed from the room. Princess Marina was incandescent with rage in her relief at his survival.

  “You don’t have my permission to die. If you try to commit suicide again I promise I’ll make you suffer the worst agonies I can inflict on you for the next hundred years without ceasing.”

  Whether she could or would carry out her threat never occurred to him, but Marina never mentioned his seduction. From that day he strove to expiate his dual sins of fornication and attempted suicide, by throwing himself into the life of a holy Christian martyr. Princess Marina suffered the consequences of her actions, for now she felt responsible for his life. For the first time she understood men or slaves were people with feelings of their own. Until then, she thought of men as useless drones, or objects for women’s use and pleasure. She might disapprove of their ill treatment, but only as she disapproved of injuring an animal.

  Even her affection for her father, and personal disapproval of her mother’s behaviour to him, had not let her see him as a human being of equal value. She had been tainted by those around her. In Zenina men were considered inferior. As they were generally physically weaker and less educated, this was easy to argue as true. Male status and value was often lower than that of a pedigree dog or riding beast.

  Father O’Flaherty’s penance for his sins, led to him speaking out fearlessly against the licentiousness of Zenina. His enemies clamoured for him to be silenced. Marina, still a child, protected him against those who bayed for his blood. Finally he overstepped prudence once too often and her majesty’s guards came for him. They did not expect to deal with an incensed Princess Marina. Even with the Queen’s order, they were too frightened to act against the fury of the Princess’ will. The Queen was forced to summon her recalcitrant daughter and her voluble priest. If her majesty had handled the matter quietly, perhaps Marina would have backed down. In front of a full assembled court, it was another matter.

  Although Marina enjoyed the old man’s tales, she did not believe their veracity. Because of her own guilt in arranging his temptation, she defended his right to his beliefs. She despised the Fertility Cult believing it an anachronism in a modern Zenina. When she was ordered to hand over Father O’Flaherty, she defiantly refused. She had been prepared to gag him and make him more discreet, but the offer was never made. In her mother’s throne room surrounded by unfriendly adult faces, the young girl stood firm against their combined wrath.

  “If you continue to persecute my priest,” she said pointing at the Fertility Cultists who were demanding Niall’s execution, ”then I’ll announce my conversion to his faith and preach his words for him. It will not be easy to shut me up. I have the right as a Zeninan citizen to freedom of speech and belief. As a member of the ruling family, I’ll be listened to and get followers.”

  Many people disapproved of the Fertility Cult’s excesses. Her public denunciation of their activities would receive great support among the people; many resented paying the levy to support it. The High Priestess of the Fertility Cult pleaded with the Queen to bring her daughter to heel.

  “My daughter, Princess Marina is correct she has those rights. It would be the act of a despot for me to deny them,” Kerina informed her.

  Marina won the day, keeping her priest. Father O’Flaherty was allowed once more to preach unhindered, but St Patrick’s was not re-opened. Her majesty was impressed about how Marina stood up for her priest, but she could not be seen to approve. Marina did not realise her mother was proud of her stance, taking her outward statement at face value.

  This intensified the estrangement between Marina and her mother, continuing for the rest of Queen Kerina’s life. Marina’s eyes had been opened to the problems for men in Zeninan life. Now she realised many of the decisions of her charismatic mother pandered to the debauched Fertility Cult, she felt their long terms effects were not beneficial to Zenina. She was an original thinker as she saw Zenina had outgrown the need for the Fertility Cult. Marina believed its continuation made Zenina an object for ridicule to the rest of the universe.

  ***

  Father Niall showed Father Debenden and the children to rooms and all had cold showers before lunching. All three bombarded Father O’Flaherty with questions. When at last he could draw breath from satisfying their curiosity, he explained that actually he was “His Grace, Bishop Niall of the See of the Zeninan Empire,” and that silenced them for a while, giving him time to breathe.

  Bromarsh and Marina continued alone in the hover-car through a beautiful landscaped garden in the grounds of which Father O’Flaherty’s modest home had been built. A much larger four storey mansion of apple blossom pink appeared at the end of an avenue of vast flowering trees. Marina parked the car in front of the building. The front doors opened to reveal a tall Silver man whose naked body would have won any body building contest in the universe.

  Chapter Eighteen - Casa Marina

  The young man knelt as Marina got out of the hover-car. She walked past him into the house. Bromarsh followed somewhat diffidently. The naked man rose and closed the doors behind him.

  “Charles,” Marina said aloud without looking back, “Must you be such an exhibitionist, go and dress.”
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br />   Marina showed Bromarsh into a softly furnished room in tones of pale apricot. A colour which Bromarsh thought went exquisitely with her golden skin but would grate with most of the other colours.

  “Sit down and relax for a few minutes whilst I check on things,” Marina asked.

  Bromarsh sank into a butter-cream fur covered settee; then examined his surroundings. He was in Marina’s home, so surely this must be her taste. Still, it did not fit with what he knew about her. This room was soft, not fussy but very restful and did have a certain elusive style. Marina might have style, but she was neither soft nor restful, a man did not sleep long in Marina’s bed. He wondered if he would survive during his stay on the amount of sleep he had been getting. The handsome hunk at the door, the famous “Charles” would presumably do his share of the work; the Major was, with some relief, surprised to find that thought comforting.

  He wondered at the little scene at the door. He was beginning to be aware Marina was holding conversations with other people for a large portion of the time.

  “Charles had clearly expected her arrival, but why had she not told him to expect a guest. It’s not something you forgot. He had gone naked to the door assuming Marina to be alone, offering his body on a plate, pretending subservience?”

  He had caught sufficient nuances to realise Marina was irked with something Charles had done. But had Charles really thought she would be alone? Was it a game they played, a private joke he had not been meant to understand. He was slightly embarrassed about it all.

  Charles had been the epitome of muscular male perfection, blatantly well hung and there was nothing effeminate in his appearance. Bromarsh had imagined male slaves as less than real men. He had pictured them as effete wimps who danced at a woman’s whim; pretty-boy gigolos with graceful movements and doe eyes. He thought they would be some sub-species. Charles returned wearing a wide grin and a royal blue loin-cloth with silver thread woven through its thick textured silk. Around his neck was a gold, red and black disk showing a seated mermaid with her tail entwined with that of a lioness rampant. These were the arms of the ruling dynasty of Zenina. The top of the disc was deckled with small triangles, which he assumed indicated this was the shield of the reigning monarch’s second daughter. He assumed this was Marina’s personal coat of arms. As Charles moved, the disc swung sideways showing a matching design tattooed upon the skin of his breastbone.

  “Would you like a drink before lunch, Major Bromarsh?” Charles asked politely in perfect Markaban.

  “Thank you, that would be nice,” he replied awkwardly.

  Charles moved to an arched alcove which appeared both to be non-functional and identical to the other eleven that decorated the two longer walls of the room. The floor in the alcove slid away and a well-stocked bar rose from below. Charles poured him a B........ Beer which he had been about to request; it was delivered before he voiced his order. Charles poured a small tumbler of some amber spirit adding nothing for embellishment and placed it on a table that arrived in the same way as the bar.

  “Marina hates unnecessary clutter,” the Silver slave said with amusement in his voice in reply to Bromarsh’s unspoken question. He had poured no drink for himself.

  “Marina is not in a good mood. She didn’t seem angry when she called from the space-port. Do you know what has changed her mood?”

  “She’s been pleasant to me; she didn’t tell you I was coming, did she?”

  “No she didn’t, there’s no reason why she should.”

  “But you would’ve dressed, wouldn’t you?”

  “Maybe, but she wanted me to think she was alone, so I acted as I thought she wanted me to.”

  Charles paused for thought and then continued.

  “There’s no need to feel uncomfortable. You’re not intruding and are very welcome here. Slaves are not permitted to be jealous of their mistress. I’ll cause no tension between us.”

  Charles was not jealous or worried about losing his place. Princess Marina sharing a bed, her body and mind with Bromarsh, did not alarm him. Nor did it disquiet Charles they should repeat that act in the future. Only men Charles saw as a threat to his position might disturb him; so a younger man of a certain style might unsettle him, but he was confident the imaginary stud would have to be very well-trained to oust him.

  Charles feared the coming of only one man into Marina’s life. One day she would find a mate, a Gold changer of superior intelligence and perfect genes, to sire the heirs she would need. Then Charles would receive his marching orders. Until that time, (which he hoped would be long coming,) he wished to remain with the woman he loved. There was nothing he would not do for his Princess, including bowing out gracefully when she finally fell in love. He knew she did not love him; she was only fond of him. He pleased her and they were friends. He was her prop when she was weary and her scapegoat when she was angry. He would fill any role she asked him to, for as long as she needed him.

  This Major Bromarsh was an attractive, virile man, but he did not fit either the roles of slave or mate to Marina. Charles did not consider him a threat or cause for jealousy. He acknowledged she had good taste and he liked most of her men. Princess Marina entered still holding the heavy envelope she had been given outside the Security Department which had now been opened. She picked up her drink and knocked it back, replacing the empty glass on the table. Charles had knelt again as she entered, his face bland as if he was trying not to draw attention to himself. In fact he was becoming concerned. He was sure he was the cause of her displeasure, hoping it was something minor and not the petition but he tried not to think about it.

  Marina was telling the Major she had purchased the house fifteen years ago when her great-great-aunt who had owned it had died.

  “Charles supervised the current redecoration and interior design a couple of years ago. He is always altering some room or other. He likes cosy clutter and I prefer simple lines, but the interior is more his taste than mine. I don’t really care that much about my surroundings, but others appreciate comfort. Most of the public rooms, Charles seems to have designed to frame me, which could make outsiders believe I’m vain, but it doesn’t annoy me enough to make him change it.”

  Charles’s worst fears were being realised. “I’ve been summoned; I’ll be with you soon,” Cucat told him from across Hemithea.

  Not long after, three young men, two Silvers, one Blue, entered the room. They knelt beside Charles and awaited Marina’s notice. Charles knew them all well, although none of them were talking mentally. They awaited Marina’s attention ominously, wishing they were somewhere else. The larger of the two new Silvers was a little broader than Charles and his name was Jelen. The slighter more graceful man was Cucat. The beautifully featured Blue, whose gorgeous tousled ringlets fell to below his shoulder blades, was Holo. Holo could have been described as looking more like Bromarsh had been expecting slaves to appear, but the others were very masculine. All of them were dressed as slaves, wearing only loin-cloths, sandals and their pendants of ownership.

  Marina ignored them and continued talking to the Major. She was obviously waiting for something. Charles eyed the envelope Marina was gesturing with as she talked. He tried to convince himself that it could not contain what he feared it did. That was already in the Queen’s hands. However it did not surprise him when the doors opened once more and Dutky entered. Dutky glanced at the four kneeling men and joined them silently. Marina broke off the conversation with the Major.

  “Unfortunately, I’ve a rather irritating problem to deal with, please bear with me, Major.”

  “Would you like me to leave?”

  “Thank you for offering, that won’t be necessary. Now gentlemen, should I have you all boiled in oil or just roasted over a slow fire?” she asked conversationally. Cucat who had been the instigator of the petition, tried to bluff it out.

  “Why have you summoned us here, your royal highness? If we have displeased you in any way...” He stopped in mid-sentence at the combined sti
muli of a mental kick from Charles and a raised eyebrow from Princess Marina. Marina removed the petition from the envelope. She held it up for them all to see. Charles swallowed, Dutky fidgeted. It is difficult not to seem stupid when forced to remain kneeling.

  “This!” said Marina addressing the Major “Is a petition to the Queen in Council, demanding the abolition of male slavery signed by about 6,000 of the capital’s slaves. These gentlemen are the ring-leaders of this piece of epic foolishness. Their signatures and the names of their owners appear on the very first page of this document.”

  Marina held the petition by its corner and let it drop to the marble mosaic floor. Dutky was first to speak.

  “We thought, well er, Charles said you deplored slavery. We hoped you at least would support us.”

  “How did you get the petition, ma’am? I handed it myself to her Majesty’s Chamberlain,” said Cucat.

  “Who handed it straight to Marina,” said Charles sardonically, whilst standing up and brushing his knees.

  “The question we want answered” he continued, “Is what Princess Marina intends to do about it? Isn’t that so, your royal highness?”

  “It’s more what I’ve already done that is of importance to you. I’ve spoken to your owners! Klivina, your mistress Cucat, was aware of your intrigue, but not of Charles’ involvement. If the Council insists on your punishment, she states she’ll have you flogged, but will refuse to sell you. Jelen, Zenla is appalled. She tells me you’ve begun to bore, so she washes her hands of you. You’ll be sold tomorrow before that!” she gestured to the floor, “reaches the council. Dutky and Holo are both owned by houses; your owners intend to order a whipping for both of you and are prepared to promise the Council you’ll not offend again.”

  “Charles, that leaves you. You’ll be sold tomorrow unless you prefer to accept your freedom and passage on the first ship off Zenina?”