A guard was whipping him so furiously he was bleeding.
“Stop!” I climbed through the corral fence and grabbed the guard’s arm.
He growled and threw me down. “Girl, if you don’t back off, I’ll use this whip on you!”
He expertly flipped the whip forward and caught me on the cheek, stinging me without drawing blood. I backed out of the corral, holding my cheek and scowling at the man. The horse, meanwhile, took the opportunity to move forward and strike out with his foreleg. The hoof caught the guard in the chest, and he fell backward. He swung around and growled a threat at me, wanting to take out his frustrations on someone other than the huge stallion.
I ran back to the main walkway, not wanting to catch the guard’s attention again. When I got to the harem tent, I peeked inside and saw Kym in the corner. I glanced back and saw the guard advancing on me again. Men wouldn’t be allowed in the harem tent, I realized, so I slipped through the tent flap and stepped inside.
I grabbed a pale pink cushion and plopped down next to Kym.
She was embroidering a delicate cloth. Her head was down as she concentrated on her task, her needle rapidly weaving its way in and out of the thin fabric, leading a fine blue thread down a hem. I watched for a few minutes, amazed at how fast she was sewing.
“How’d you get so good at this, Kym? I asked.
She smiled at me. “I’m a fast learner,” she said, then bent her head to her task once again.
I looked around the tent. It was huge, nearly the size of the sheikh’s tented throne room. The décor was decidedly more delicate; pale blues and yellows were the dominant colors, and the walls were covered in small watercolored fabrics.
Caroline came up and sat with us. She saw me staring at the painted cloths.
“The matron painted those; I saw her completing her last one when we first got here. In my opinion it’s the most beautiful,” she pointed to the painting on the closest wall. It was an ocean landscape full of rich blues and greens and displayed an underwater scene with aquatic plants and fish and it was utterly breathtaking.
I just stared.
Caroline smiled. “The matron encourages art in the harem. The sheikh very rarely comes around anymore.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“He just doesn’t,” she said. “We were told when we first arrived. The matron explained he stopped frequenting the harem several years ago, and keeps it as a place to collect beautiful women …”
I blushed at this.
“… and he treats us very well, feeds us the best food, does not expect labor from us, and lets the matron basically run the harem the way she wants. I was fortunate to have been moved here after I was dismissed from the work duty I’d first been assigned.” Caroline sat back, grinning.
“So that’s why Kym is embroidering?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Caroline. “Oh, and you should come with me, Christianne is here.”
I jumped up, eager to see the girl I had befriended so many months ago. As we walked, I thought our time on the slaver ship seemed like a lifetime ago. We rounded a partition and walked into a large tent that was obviously a kitchen for the royal household. Christianne sat in a corner, talking with an older woman. When she saw me, she jumped up and came rushing to hug me.
“Oh, Charlotte, I was so worried,” her voiced was muffled. I think she was crying.
“Hey, hey,” I patted her shoulder, “I’m right here, I’m fine.”
She looked up, smiling a watery smile. “I’m glad you’re recovered.”
We sat at the table, snacking on dates and warm milk laced with honey.
“I’m still a little weak but feeling good enough so that the sheikh assigned me to the harem tent,” I said. “So I’ll be staying here with you all.”
“We are all together, then. Reunited!” She smiled.
“How have things been since we parted last, Christianne?” I asked.
“Boring,” she said laughing.
I smiled. “No, seriously.”
“Boring,” she repeated. “Extremely boring. I missed you all.” She hugged me tightly.
I guess it had been lonely for her, but I’m glad she hadn’t been there when we’d fought the manticore. That had been really dangerous, I thought.
Yet, in some ways, I missed the fight. The adventure. I looked around the kitchen tent attached to the harem. I could see her point: This could become boring very quickly.
Suddenly, a messenger came running and touched Khepri’s robes to get her attention. The healer’s skills were needed in the stable.
Oh, no, I thought. The black horse.
I rushed out with Khepri, and Christianne followed us.
We were soon at the stable doors, and inside.
The stables were a series of tents, most of them open on the sides. Their canopy roofs flapped in the light breeze, and two of the tent sides had been let down, while the other two were rolled up and secured, to allow for the breeze to pass through.
Flies buzzed in a corner manure pile.
The injured animal was in the last tent. I was right: It was the black horse.
He shivered as Khepri cooed at him, approaching slowly. I could see blood running down the horse’s neck and leg, and there was a gash on the poor creature’s shoulder. He looked like he’d been whipped badly.
Khepri turned to the groom holding the animal. It was the man I’d seen whipping the horse, the man who’d chased me. My breathing became angry in my chest, and my heart beat faster, but I stayed silent.
“This is how you tame the sheikh’s prized stallion?” Khepri asked angrily.
“The beast needs breaking,” the scarred man said. “He’s wild.”
I could keep quiet no longer. “I saw you whipping him in anger,” I said, fuming. “That’s not how you train a horse.” I knew that much from watching the grooms in my father’s stables.
“He’s too spirited,” the man tried again.
“I’m reporting you to the sheikh,” Khepri spat. “Now get out of here.”
The groom scowled and retreated.
Khepri turned to Christianne, “Fetch me some hot, wet cloths, and a bowl of hot water, quickly.”
Christianne nodded and ran off.
I put a tentative hand on the horse’s neck. He was magnificent.
My eyes filled with tears as I thought of him being whipped. “Shhhh, boy,” I murmured, gently touching his neck. “I don’t care what that awful man said, you didn’t deserve to be beaten.” I cooed at the horse, and he nuzzled my hand, blowing hot breath into my face.
Christianne returned, and Khepri soon had a mixture of herbs and tinctures going in the bowl.
As Khepri smoothed the poultice into place on the horse’s shoulder wound, she chuckled at me. “He’s the new stallion the sheikh had imported from Jambudvipa. His name is Shêtân.”
“Shêtân,” I said softly, caressing the horse’s neck. He nuzzled my hand softly. I was smitten.
Chapter Seventeen
Amondine
Life in the harem was somewhat quiet at first. Our days were filled with art and music; and caring for the sheikh’s few children provided a sometimes welcomed distraction. The matron who supposedly ran the harem rarely made an appearance, instead choosing to keep to herself in her own quarters. When I first met her, she seemed strong and enthusiastic, but I soon learned it was all an act.
“Charlotte, this is Amondine, first wife of the sheikh and matron of the harem,” Khepri said as she introduced her.
Amondine was tall, her brown hair streaked with grey. Wrinkles near her eyes made me think of smiling, and her hands were smooth and soft. She wore a soft pink thawb elaborately embroidered with flowers and birds in gold thread.
“Welcome to our little corner of the world, Charlotte,” the older woman smiled firmly at me and shook my hand with a steady grip. “I am Amondine, and I’m in charge here. If there is anything you require,” here Amondine looked unblinkingly into my eyes, “anythin
g at all, please let me know.”
Khepri smiled at Amondine as she left the room, greeting women as she moved, then turned to me and whispered, “come and look.”
Khepri and I followed Amondine quietly, at a distance, and when she passed between two curtains to her quarters, Khepri rushed and pulled me forward, and we peeked through the cloth.
I was just in time to see Amondine nearly collapse after leaving the harem; her maids on either side of her rushed to catch her and hold her up. They eased her farther down the cloth-banked hallway and through another opening. The matron stumbled several times, and the maids had to hold her up by her elbows as she moved.
We retreated and Khepri looked at me knowingly.
“She is very ill, we think. She does not allow any of us into her inner quarters, even though she used to allow open passage.”
We walked back to the main area.
“How long has she been like this?” I asked.
“For many months,” Khepri said. She stopped and spoke in a quiet tone. “Although Amondine used to be strong and protected the harem from harm and abuse, I fear she can no longer function in that role.”
I looked sharply into Khepri’s eyes.
“The harem is now vulnerable,” Khepri continued. “That is why she puts on such a show of strength. If word got out how bad she was, there would be nothing protecting us. The only reason the harem has not been a place of terror is that Amondine made sure the sheikh knew how far he could go. Up until last winter she was a force to be reckoned with. When she was angry, she could make even the sheikh’s eldest son back down.”
“The sheikh’s son?” I asked. “Not the little ones I see running around?”
I had seen several little boys running and playing among the women, they looked to be maybe seven or eight summers old. Khepri shook her head.
“Those are two of his latest sons and a cousin. They were born after the sheikh’s decent into his elder years, and trust me, they were welcomed miracles. No, I speak of the sheikh’s eldest son, who is rarely seen as he goes on raids almost continuously.”
“How many children does the sheikh have?” I asked.
We sat down and joined Caroline and Christianne at a low table heavy with olives, dates, and sweetmeats, and Khepri continued. “He has over a dozen children, but his daughters are raised at his sister’s compound near the ocean. That leaves two young sons and the eldest son here.”
Kym soon joined us, and the discussion continued.
I leaned forward to ask, “Why does he send his daughters away?”
Khepri whispered, “I wondered that for a long time, too. It is said he wants the princesses to grow up with his sister so they might learn the royal ways, but in reality, we think he also wants them as far from the oldest son as he can get them.” She sat back and folded her arms, a knowing look in her eyes.
“What?” I was bewildered but starting to get a worried feeling in my stomach.
Just then, a runner came up to Khepri and whispered in her ear, and she hurried off without a word.
I turned to the others. “Do you know anything about the matron’s ill health?”
Kym and Christianne shook their heads, nibbling on dates as they shrugged.
“I think she fell ill shortly before we arrived,” Caroline offered. “It was one of the reasons the guards were sent to find us, I think.”
I raised my eyebrows.
She continued. “Khepri was charged with trying to bring her back to health. She has only been marginally successful, I gather.”
“I wonder what Amondine is ill with?” said Christianne.
The next day found Khepri returned to us, and she was spitting mad.
I was curious as to what had drawn her away from the harem. “What happened yesterday?” I asked at breakfast.
We were all gathered around a large bowl of fruit in the sleeping chambers. Christianne, Caroline, Kym, Khepri and I had taken to eating together throughout the day, not only to fill our bellies but to exchange the gossip of the camp.
“That fool of a son, he’s done it again,” Khepri fumed, her cheeks red with anger.
I leaned in. “What happened?”
Khepri was visibly trying to calm herself. “The sheikh’s advisors told me not to say anything about it.” She looked angry.
“Why were you called away yesterday? Is someone ill? Was someone injured?” Christianne asked.
“I’m not supposed to say anything about it,” Khepri repeated, “but I was called to the neighboring tent of the sheikh’s nephew. The man was furious, his wife was in tears, but their little daughter will eventually be okay.”
“So the sheikh’s nephew’s daughter was ill?” Caroline asked.
“Not ill. She was attacked by the sheikh’s son,” Khepri whispered, upset. She began chewing on a date, closing her eyes and taking deep breathes.
“Oh, oh no!” said Christianne. She looked at Caroline and I, her hands fumbling.
Kym leaned forward. “What is going on, Christianne?”
Khepri remained silent.
Christianne spoke in a quiet voice. Noise traveled easily through tent walls. “The son, I am not sure what his name is, he has evil appetites,” she said, looking at us with raised eyebrows, her lips pressed tightly together. She fell silent. It was clear that was all she wished to say.
Khepri threw an apple core into the trash bucket and spat. “His name is Malík. He is the bane of every slave’s existence in this compound.” She thought for a second. “And everyone he encounters outside the compound as well.” She scowled.
Christianne took up the story, continuing in a quiet voice. Caroline, Kym, and I all leaned in to hear better.
“Malík is the sheikh’s eldest son. He’s about twenty summers old.” Here she paused, thinking about her words. “He can be very violent,” she added.
Khepri made a sound. “He can be deadly, the rat.” She scowled again.
I sat back, glancing at Kym and Caroline. We understood. We would try and avoid Malík at all costs.
“Point him out to us when you have the chance,” I said. Khepri and Christianne nodded.
The rest of the week passed uneventfully. The sheikh had sent Malík out with another raiding party, and more art went up onto the walls of the harem. I visited Shêtân as much as I could. The stallion was recuperating and seemed to appreciate the morning brush outs, and especially the apple I brought. Khepri had gotten the sheikh to replace the groom who had beaten the poor animal, and the new man was older and much nicer. He appreciated that I did his morning grooming duty, as it gave him the chance to get a jump on his other responsibilities in the stables.
One morning, I was finishing up with Shêtân, my swift short strokes of the soft brush on his coat working to eventually bring out a shine that would glimmer in the sunshine. But when I looked up, I saw something that made my spirits sink.
The raiding party led by the sheikh’s son was just returning. It was late morning, the sun was not yet at its apex in the sky, and the rowdy bunch galloping into the compound had already been drinking. In fact, I wondered if they had stayed drunk the entire time they were away.
As they came to a stop, several of them fell off their horses, dropping into the sand and laughing. Malík himself soon followed, and his cruel laughter was the loudest. His horse’s neck was lathered with foam: he’d obviously run it into the ground.
A groom rushed up, taking the reins from the prince and hurrying the horse away to be tended to. The brown stallion stumbled as it went, and I scowled and looked down to the ground, not wanting to draw attention.
The raiding party headed to the drinking tents, except for Malík who went directly to the sheikh’s tent.
I wonder if he’ll report all the evil he did, or just the raiding. I thought.
I continued brushing Shêtân for another hour, until he was gleaming. He nuzzled my hand in thanks, and I stored the horse brushes away in the tack box and patted his neck goodbye. Wanti
ng nothing to do with such rough characters, I kept my eye out for Malík and his men as I walked back to the harem quarters.
As I entered the tent, my attention was drawn to some of the older women who were gathered in the far corner. Curious, I approached them. I saw that Caroline and Christianne were also drawing near to the group. Kym was in another corner, playing with the youngest girls at a game on the floor.
The older women were in distress.
“What’s happening,” I asked Caroline as I drew closer.
“Amondine is getting worse,” she said worriedly.
“Oh, no,” I said.
“And Malík’s man was seen visiting her tent right after the raiding party arrived,” said Christianne.
“Oh, no, he didn’t attack her, did he?” My eyes widened in fear.
“No, Amondine’s maids are still there, and we heard no alarm,” said Caroline pensively. “It’s just that …”
“What?” I asked.
“She collapsed right after they left. Not five minutes afterward.” Caroline looked worried.
“He did her some kind of mischief,” I whispered, looking over my shoulder.
Caroline and Christianne both looked knowingly at me.
I tried to peek into the matron’s tent, to ask Khepri how she was doing, but I was stopped at the flap by several of Amondine’s maids with stern looks.
“The mistress healer has to tend to our matron, she will be available for questions afterward,” they whispered, bowing their heads and retreating once again.
So we waited outside the doorway. And waited. And waited. Caroline left at one point and returned with bowls of food, and I realized with a start that evening was upon us.
We ate in silence, worried about the matron, who we’d all grown fond of, but also worried about what would become of the harem if she was to become incapacitated. The matron ruled the harem with an iron will, and we recognized what might happen if she weren’t able to continue. Rumor had reached us from travelers and other girls who’d been bought here, of how things were in other compounds around the caliphate. The worry was not unfounded.
The Pirates of Moonlit Bay Page 11