The Love Slave Part 5

"I suppose old Erda has told ye that I intend to send ye to my friend the Caliph of Cordoba, and don't deny it. The old woman knows things in this house even before I do. She's not loath to share her information with any who'll listen."

Regan laughed. "I like the old lady. She's kind, my lord, in a world where few are. Aye, she told me, and then she explained what a caliph was; but what I dinna understand is what a harem is, and why I must be trained properly. What is wrong wi' me?"

"A harem," he said, "is a place where a Moor keeps all his women-his wives, his daughters, his female relations, his concubines."

"Wives, daughters, and female relations I comprehend, but I hae nae heard the word concubine before. What manner of creature is it, my lord?" Her puzzlement was honest.

"A concubine," he said, phrasing it carefully, "is a woman who pleases her master both physically and in a variety of other ways, Regan. He may enjoy her music, or dancing, or even discussing matters with her that trouble him. She can become his friend, and if she gives him children, her value is increased in his sight."

"I see," she said softly, now fully understanding.

"The Caliph of Cordoba is a powerful man," Donal Righ went on. "His household is large. In order to attract his interest, and to retain it, Regan, you must be trained to both give and receive pleasure as no other woman can. I would not just send Abd-al Rahman a beautiful woman for his harem, I would send him a Love Slave. To become a Love Slave, you will have to study the erotic arts and the craft of seduction with a man who is a master of those arts.

"There is only one such man to whom I would entrust you. He is the younger son of a friend of mine. He captains a vessel that sails between Eire, al-Andalus, and his own home in the city of al-Malina on the North African coast. He will be arriving in Dublin shortly on his summer visit. I intend that you go with him when he leaves. When he feels you have attained the highest level that a Love Slave can, he will present you to the caliph in my name. Until he comes, I would have you rest and regain yer strength. Ye have not had an easy time of it, Regan MacDuff, but know now that ye are prized and ye are valued above all women," he concluded with a warm smile that extended all the way to his eyes.

"I dinna know if I can become what ye want me to, my lord," she said slowly. "I dinna know how to give, or if it is even possible for me to receive this pleasure ye speak of with such certainty. I hae found no pleasure in coupling wi' a man, yet ye say I must find pleasure in it, and make the man find pleasure as well. I dinna understand how it can be done, Donal Righ. Perhaps ye would be better served to sell me to some Celtic chieftain for a servant. I can work hard, I promise ye, and my Morag too. If I disappoint ye, then it would reflect badly upon ye, and ye hae been good to me."

Reaching out, Donal Righ gently patted her hand in what he hoped was a rea.s.suring gesture. "I do not want ye to fret over this, Regan MacDuff," he told her. "Yer experience with the physical side of pa.s.sion has been very limited, and of the worst kind. Yer sister's husband was obviously not a man who knew how to make love to a woman. His own pleasure was his only concern. A clever man knows that the more the woman enjoys her pleasure, the greater his own will be. He therefore strives to give her that delight. As for Gunnar Bloodaxe, he too sought only to take his own enjoyment, and to ascertain that you did not lie to him. He did not care how you felt. No man has yet touched your heart and spirit. You have no idea how sweet love can be, but trust me, my beauty, you soon will."

She did not believe him, of course. She knew he but sought to ease her terrible fears. She was surprised by his kindness. She had never received such patient indulgence from anyone. She could only hope it would continue, at least until he realized that she could not be made to enjoy lovemaking. She sighed sadly, for the first time in her life feeling truly heavyhearted. What would become of her? Of little Morag?

Her depression, however, could not sustain itself. She was clean, warm, and better fed than she had ever been in her entire life. She had a real friend in Morag, who would forever be grateful that Regan had saved her from the common slave market. Morag had learned from listening to the other women aboard ship that the slave market in Dublin could lead at best to a household position, and at the worst to one of the waterfront brothels where most women died within a year or two.

Donal Righ kindly allowed them a measure of freedom within his house. He did not lock them away. They strolled in his private garden, a carefully tended enclosure with two neatly raked gravel paths in the shape of a cross, interspersed with small marble benches. There was a wonderful rose of Damascus, its many pink blossoms now in bloom, their heady fragrance filling the air. The old rosebush climbed up the stones and over the wall into the street below. There was a fountain at the center of the cross that bubbled up from a little round stone pool.

The girls walked atop the house's walls, watching the harbor traffic as the many and varied ships came and went. They saw small coastal freighters, larger freighters of all descriptions, pa.s.senger vessels and fishing boats, and little c.o.c.kles that bobbed dangerously across the waters of the Liffey. Each day old Erda shepherded them to her domain, and they bathed. Regan had never realized that her skin could be so clean, or so very soft. Sometimes she thought about Gruoch, and wished that her twin sister could know so delicious a luxury, but Gruoch, she sensed, was not thinking of her. Gruoch was lost to her forever.

One day as they walked upon the walls of Donal Righ's house, looking toward the sea, they saw a large, beautiful ship entering the harbor of Dublin town. It was a graceful vessel, fully two hundred ten feet in length. It was lateen-rigged, and its sail was striped in cloth-of-gold and bright green silk. It swept up the river to the main dock, nestling alongside the wooden pier, its weathered lines binding it fast to the wharf. Both girls were goggle-eyed.

"I hae nae seen anything so beautiful before," Regan said.

Morag echoed her sentiment. " 'Tis a braw ship to be sure."

Old Erda had joined them, and saw the direction in which their interest lay. " 'Tis I'timad, the ship of Karim al Malina, the master's good friend. We have been told to expect him."

"What does I'timad mean?" Regan asked Erda.

"Reliance," came the answer. Then she said, "I had best see my baths are ready for the lord. He is a man who likes the baths, a true Moor. He will have been at sea for many weeks now, and be eager for sweet water and fragrant oils. Stay upon the walls, my chicks. You will see Karim al Malina as he comes up the street. More than likely he will be in the company of his first mate and best friend, Alaeddin." She chuckled. "There's a right charming devil, that Alaeddin!" Then she hurried off to see to her duties, for Erda took pride in her office.

They sat upon the wall, watching the street below, chattering about nothing in particular, enjoying the early summer's day. Then the two men, garbed in long white robes, came walking up from the harbor. As they reached Donal Righ's house, one of them looked up and grinned raffishly at the two girls. Regan turned away shyly, but Morag grinned back at the black-bearded man with the twinkling dark eyes. Then she giggled as he blew a kiss at her.

"Ohh, he's a bold one," she said to Regan. "And a wicked one wi' the ladies, I can tell."

"How can ye tell?" Regan asked. "Ye've spent all yer life behind the convent walls. What would ye know of men?"

"Mother Una said she thought me more suited to marriage than the convent," Morag said frankly. "She was going to make a match for me wi' one of the local shepherd's sons. I was to hae a silver coin for every three years of my life for a dowry, and linens too. Mother Una said fifteen was a good time for me to wed, but then she grew ill, and Mother Eubh would nae hear of it. She said that the five silver pieces could be better spent, the old b.i.t.c.h!"

"Mother Una spoke to ye of what transpires between a man and a woman?" Regan probed.

"Aye, she said 'twas no mystery, for if G.o.d made it so, where was the evil in it?" Morag explained. "She let me roam outside the convent walls on pretty days. I met several young lads who took my eye, but I nae strayed from virtue's path, though once or twice I will admit to being tempted," she finished with a chuckle.

Regan was amazed. Morag could be no older than thirteen, and yet she had no fears about being with a man. Of course she was still a virgin. She could not know the degradation and pain involved in experiencing a man's l.u.s.t, or the feelings of total helplessness a woman suffered. Regan wondered if she should tell her. Nay. Why frighten the la.s.s? It was unlikely she would ever have to know the humiliation of submitting to a man's perverted desires. As the servant of a slave of high rank, she would be protected from such debauchery and brutality. She need never know, Regan decided.

They were called to the baths in the late afternoon, and it seemed to Regan that Erda was fussing over her even more than usual. On her knees, the old woman carefully inspected Regan for any sign of superfluous body hair. Struggling to her feet, she peered at the girl, turning her about, then finally gave her a small dish of parsley and mint leaves.

"Chew them slowly, and carefully," she instructed Regan. " 'Twill sweeten yer breath, my chick. Yer teeth are good, and I see no sign of rot. Yer fortunate. Too many have pretty faces but bad teeth."

"What is this all about?" Regan demanded of her.

"Why, child, yer to be presented to Karim al Malina in a little while. The master has ordered that ye be brought to him. He has chosen Karim al Malina to train ye in the erotic arts."

Regan felt suddenly cold. These last few days had been so pleasant that for a brief time she had forgotten what was to come. Donal Righ, to be fair, had warned her.

"Come along, come along," Erda said, bustling from the baths, the two girls behind her. She brought them to a large rectangular room that was filled with chests. "This is the master's personal storeroom, my chicks. He has said I may dress ye as I see fit, and I know just what I want for ye. Morag, child, open that chest there." She pointed.

Morag lifted the lid of the coffer up and gasped with delight. Within it were a variety of fabrics, each one more beautiful than the other. Erda bent over and drew out first a length of white silk, which she handed to Morag.

" 'Tis a tunic," she explained. "Take off yer garments, both of ye, and then garb yerself, Morag. Don't be shocked, for it has no sleeves." She helped the girl pull the garment over her head. It fell in graceful folds to Morag's ankles, the neckline revealing the girl's collarbone. Erda opened a small box and drew out several jeweled pins. She looped Morag's dark braids against the side of her head and affixed them firmly. Then reaching into the chest, she drew forth a length of silver cord, which she tied about the young girl's slender waist "There!" she said, satisfied. "Ye look the perfect attendant for yer mistress, my chick."

Morag couldn't, it seemed, stop smiling. "Ohh, lady," she said to Regan, "is it nae lovely?"

"Aye," Regan told her, smiling back. " 'Tis indeed lovely. Ye look verra fair, Morag. 'Tis sorry I am ye canna wed wi' yer shepherd."

"Shepherd, indeed," Erda sniffed. "She's fit for better than that, lady. Now let us see what I have for ye." Reaching into the storage unit again, she drew forth a sheer, glimmering fabric, narrowly pleated. Its color was neither silver nor gold, but a blend of the two, and it was diaphanous. Erda helped Regan into the garment. It had long, flowing sleeves that came to her wrists, and it was open from the round neckline to the ankle. Erda pinned the gown closed with a golden pin upon the girl's right shoulder. She stood back, eyeing her charge critically, making small noises as she looked. "Ummmmm. Hmmmmm. Aye!" Moving behind Regan, she took her long hair and fastened it back with a small length of jeweled silk. "When the master tells ye," she instructed Morag, "just pull it here, and her hair will fan out." Then she fastened a silk band sewn in pearls around Regan's forehead.

"Ye can see my nakedness beneath this fabric," Regan said.

"Aye," Erda agreed, "but not quite. The gown is intended to tantalize. It is exactly what the master would want." She turned to Morag again. "Now, child, when Donal Righ instructs ye, unfasten the pin at the shoulder and help yer mistress out of the gown. Ye must be graceful, not clumsy. The catch is simple. Come here and try it. Aye, that's it! Yer a quick girl, and will be of great value to yer lady. Now go behind her and draw the gown away from her body. Lady, raise both of yer arms as they are freed of the fabric, and put them behind yer head. It lifts the b.r.e.a.s.t.s for better viewing."

Regan gritted her teeth, but she obeyed the old lady. This was not Erda's fault. She was doing what she was instructed to do. This was Donal Righ's doing, and he would regret it. When they tried to display her like some animal at a fair, she would rebel. Then this Karim al Malina would see that she was not at all suited to being a Love Slave. Donal Righ would have to sell her to some householder, and she could live at least with dignity, even if she was worked to death.

"Very nice, my chick," Erda hummed her approval. "Ye've a talent for this sort of thing, and ye'll go far, I warrant. The master will be very pleased with ye this night. Now ye may rest until it is time for ye to redress and be presented. Come, and we'll go to yer wee chamber. Morag, child, carry yer mistress's gown."

The hum of conversation emanated from the chamber where Donal Righ took his meals, Inside, the fire pit burned merrily, and seated about the table on the dais were three men. The man in the center was Donal Righ. To his left sat the first mate of the I'timad, Alaeddin ben Omar. He was a large bear of a man, with a beard as black as night and eyes to match. Those who were ill-advised enough to believe that his marvelous good nature made him a fool, usually ended up at the business end of his scimitar. He was a loyal friend and a ferocious fighter. On Donal Righ's right sat the son of his old friend, Habib ibn Malik, who was called Karim.

The three men had eaten and drunk well. They would discuss business at another time, for the I'timad was a freighter. It brought luxury goods to Eire from al-Andalus and other ports, and carried back raw wool, hides, Celtic metalwork, and jewelry, as well as slaves. Donal Righ had already indicated to his friend's son that there was another reason for his summoning him this night, his first in port in some weeks. Now the older man sat back, stretched, and spoke.

"Ye know I owe an obligation to the caliph in Cordoba, Karim. I have long been in his debt. Were it not for his patronage, ye would not bring me the goods that have made me a rich man. I shall never be able to fully repay our great lord Abd-al Rahman, but I would send him a token of my respect and grat.i.tude. For some months I have sought for the perfect gift. Knowing the caliph's penchant for beautiful females, I decided to see if I could find a woman who might be trained as a Love Slave. A mere slave girl is simply not a good enough offering to show my grat.i.tude to our master. Several days ago, by merest chance, a magnificent creature came into my possession. She is young, a Scot, a n.o.bleman's daughter."

"A virgin who will cry to her G.o.d in heaven for death before she accepts the embrace of the infidel," Karim al Malina said dryly.

"She is not a virgin," Donal Righ said, surprising both men. Then he went on to explain Regan's history. When he had finished, he said, "I want to put her in your care, Karim, son of my old friend. Ye are a Pa.s.sion Master. It is known that ye trained in the erotic arts at the secret school in Samarkand. Ye can take this girl and mold her into the perfect Love Slave for the caliph. My grat.i.tude will be boundless."

Karim al Malina considered, and then he said, "I do not like to refuse ye, Donal Righ, but I cannot help but remember the last girl I trained. The foolish creature fell in love with me and committed suicide rather than go to her true master. It was very embarra.s.sing, and I had to compensate the man double for the loss: No Pa.s.sion Master has ever had such a thing happen. I obviously did not do my duty properly. I am loath to take another maiden in my charge."

"It has been five years since that unfortunate incident, my young friend. The girl was unstable. This girl is not. She is proud and fierce. She will bend, but never break beneath your tutelage. Regan is a strong la.s.s, Karim. She needs ye if she is to succeed in truly attracting Abd-al Rahman. Even sending him a Love Slave is not enough. She must enthrall him, and bear him children."

Karim sighed. "I do not know," he said slowly.

"Let me show ye the girl," Donal Righ suggested slyly. "Do not refuse me until ye have seen her and tested her mettle. Abu!" He called to the pygmy. "Fetch the lady Regan and her servant quickly."

His two companions laughed at Donal Righ's eagerness.

"Ye must be very certain Karim will acquiesce, Donal Righ," Alaeddin ben Omar said. "Is the girl that beautiful?"

"She is as the sun and the moon," the older man replied.

"Now ye speak with the tongue of a Moor," Karim told him, amused. "I promise ye nothing, friend of my father."

"Wait and see," Donal Righ advised him. "Ye are not the man I have always believed ye to be if ye are not ravished by her."

Alaeddin ben Omar chuckled deep in his barrel-like chest. The old devil had thrown down a gauntlet Karim al Malina could not fail to pick up. He had p.r.i.c.ked the young captain's pride with a sharp thorn.

The door to the chamber opened. Abu returned, bringing two women with him. The first mate's eyes lit up at the sight of Morag. He had thought her a toothsome little creature when he first saw her this afternoon. The other girl kept her face in shadow, obviously instructed to do so. Neither man could at first quite make out her features, but then she raised her head and looked directly at them. Alaeddin ben Omar whistled softly through his teeth in admiration. Donal Righ had not lied. The girl was probably the most beautiful female he had ever beheld. He looked to Karim, but as usual his captain's face was unreadable.

Though Regan appeared to be looking at both of the two strangers on the dais, she was in reality staring only at Karim al Malina. She had never seen so handsome a man. His face was an oval, the forehead and the sculpted cheekbones high, but the chin was squared. His nose was long and narrow, but the nostrils flared sensuously. His mouth was also long, but more narrow than full. Unlike his companion, he was clean-shaven. His dark eyebrows were winged, and the eyes beneath them an azure blue. His hair was a deep brown, almost black. It was pulled back from his forehead. She could not tell how long it was.

"Remove her robe, Morag." Donal Righ's voice broke her reverie.

"No." Karim al Malina spoke. "Let me do it." He arose and stepped from the dais to stand in front of Regan. His eyes held hers in thrall as he reached up with a big hand to unfasten the pin holding her garment together. His nails, she noticed, were round, but there was absolutely no expression upon his handsome face to give any indication of his thoughts. He nodded to Morag, who drew the robe from Regan's body slowly, as she'd been instructed. Just the faintest smile touched the corners of Karim's mouth. It had been artfully done. He turned to Donal Righ. "Who is this girl?" he asked.

"Morag is the lady Regan's servant," the older man replied.

"She is skilled," the captain noted, and then turned his full attention back to Regan. His voice was low when he spoke again. "I see rebellion in those aquamarine eyes, Zaynab," he said softly. "You will obey me, for if you do not, you will embarra.s.s Donal Righ. Now put your arms behind your head. I wish to view your b.r.e.a.s.t.s better."

"No," she replied as softly. "I will force Donal Righ to sell me as a household slave to some Celtic chieftain."

"He will sell you to the most infamous brothel keeper in Dublin, who will pay a far better price for you," Karim told her. "You will have some sailor between your legs before Donal Righ has left the establishment, and you will be dead of overwork and disease within a year. Is that the life you would choose?"

Both she and Morag looked shocked at his words. "Donal Righ would not do that to me," Regan protested nervously. "He is kind."

"Only because you are of value to him, Zaynab," he told her. "Now raise your arms and put them behind your head as I have commanded you."

For a long moment their gazes locked in a silent battle of wills, and then Regan obeyed him, albeit reluctantly. Morag let out an audible sigh of relief, and Karim chuckled. He stepped back a pace and let his eyes sweep in leisurely fashion over Regan's body. His look was a.s.sessing, never lewd. Reaching out with his hands, he molded her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, causing a soft flush to rise in her cheeks. Her top teeth caught her lower lip and worried at it as he fondled her, but again there was nothing lascivious in his touch.

"Do you want me to open my mouth that you may inspect my teeth?" she muttered darkly.

"Shortly," he said quietly, "but for now I would like you to turn about. You may lower your arms to your sides. Slowly, Zaynab. Antic.i.p.ation is an art you must practice, I can see."

Regan turned as he had ordered her. "What is it you call me, my lord? Zaynab?"

"In the tongue of the Moors it means the beautiful one," he told her. "You must have a Moorish name, and so I shall call you." His eyes traveled from her pretty shoulders down the delicate line of her backbone to her b.u.t.tocks, which, he decided, were like the twin halves of a firm young peach. She was tall for a woman, but not too tall, and her length was in her torso, not her legs with their graceful calves. Kneeling, he lifted up a foot. It was slender, and the arch was high. Her bones were small. She was finely made. Donal Righ had not lied. She was like the sun and the moon.

Karim stood and unfastened the clasp on her hair. The silvery gold tresses spread themselves like a fan across her shoulders, reaching just to the tip of her tailbone. He fingered a lock. It was like the finest silk.

"You may turn back to face me now," he said, and when she had, he ordered her to open her mouth.

Regan was outraged. She thought he had been mocking her when she snapped at him a moment ago. She thought of refusing him, but then saw Morag's pleading eyes and obeyed.

He peered in, noting, "Her teeth are all there, and they are free of rot. Her breath is sweet. It's a good sign." He took Regan's chin between his thumb and his forefinger, turning her head this way and that as he peered again, this time at her skin. "The skin is translucent, and healthy," he said. "The nose is pretty, the mouth tempting, and the eyes a fine color, like a first quality aquamarine." Releasing Regan, he turned abruptly away from her, rejoining the two men on the dais. "She has definite possibilities, Donal Righ, and as you say, she is strong-willed."

"Then ye will take her and train her for me, Karim? I would entrust her to no one else. I know two lords in al-Andalus who have Love Slaves schooled by ye. These girls have brought their masters so much happiness that they prize them above all other women. The girls are called Aiysha and Subh. You educated them about seven years ago."

"I remember the maidens involved," Karim said. "Aiysha was sent to a rich lord in Seville, and Subh went to the king of Granada. I received magnificent gifts from both men in grat.i.tude. It was after those successes that I was sent that poor girl who later killed herself. I have not trained another girl since, Donal Righ."

"But ye will train this one, won't ye, Karim?" the older man said with a sly grin.

The younger man laughed, resigned. "Aye, old friend of my father, I will school Zaynab for you. When she is ready, I will take her to the caliph's court myself and present her to Abd-al Rahman for you. Be warned, however, she will not be easy. She has as strong a streak of independence as ever I have seen in anyone, man or woman."

"Ye have named her!" he chortled "Zaynab. I like it! It suits ye, Regan MacDuff, and that's the last time I shall call ye by the name yer mam gave ye. Morag, reclothe yer mistress and take her to the special chamber that has been prepared for her. Erda will show ye, girl." He turned back to Karim. "This girl is now in yer charge. Ye will stay with me, and Alaeddin too."

"Not until tomorrow, Donal Righ," the captain told him. "I have been at sea for several weeks. I both need and want the company of a skilled courtesan. Alaeddin and I have made other arrangements for tonight, but I will begin Zaynab's education tomorrow, I promise you, old friend of my father's. It is agreed then?" He held out his hand and Donal Righ grasped it gratefully.

"It is agreed Karim al Malina," he a.s.sented "Abu, take the women back to Erda."

Regan and Morag were escorted out, and when they had gone, Alaeddin asked Donal Righ, "Would you object if I paid a bit of court to the little one with braids? She sets my heart to racing. How old is she?"

"Old enough," Donal Righ answered with a chuckle. "Erda says she has her woman's flow, but be advised that she is a virgin."

"I'd like to be her first," Alaeddin ben Omar admitted.

"Ye'll spoil her for other men." Donal Righ chuckled again, and his companions laughed as well.

Regan and Morag could hear the men's laughter as they followed Abu back to the women's quarters, where old Erda resided When he had left them in her charge and departed Regan exploded with anger.

"Ye would hae thought I was a mare or a cow for sale," she fumed, outraged. "I hate that man! He is horrible and awful! He actually dared to look in my mouth! He sniffed at my breath, Morag!"

"I thought him rather gentle, and nice," Morag ventured.

"Nice?" Regan hissed.

"He wasna cruel, mistress," the girl said quietly, "and nae once did he look at ye wi' lecherous eyes."

"How could ye tell, la.s.sie? Ye were much too busy flirting wi' the black-bearded companion of his," Regan snapped.

Morag giggled, admitting her guilt. "He's verra handsome, mistress, and he flirted back wi' me."

"Did he put his hands between yer thighs?" Erda demanded.

"What?" Regan shrieked, horrified.

"Did he put his hands between yer legs?" Erda repeated. "Did he investigate yer private parts?"

"Nay!" she answered, outraged by the very thought.

"Then why do ye carry on so, my chick?" the old woman wondered. "The man has but looked at ye. 'Tis no crime to admire a beautiful maid."

"He felt my b.r.e.a.s.t.s!" Regan told her.