The head eunuch chortled. "No, girl, we have laundresses aplenty." He pointed to a large reed basket. "Bring the dey's used garments here each evening when you come to choose the clothing you will put in the cedar cabinet for the following day. This basket is for the discards. A servant will bring them to the laundresses to wash. Now here is the cabinet in which you will place his fresh garments, girl. It opens on two sides, and on the other side you will find the dressing room in the baths. Each evening before you go to bed, choose the proper clothing for the morrow. I will inform you what sort of garments will be needed. Now, let us begin. What would you choose tomorrow for the dey?"
India's careful choices pleased Baba Hassan. The chief engineer of El Sinut, while a valuable civil servant, was not of great importance. "The dey will not need a turban, but where are they kept?" she inquired.
He showed her, and then said, "You are content to serve the dey in this capacity rather than as one of his harem women?"
"I am not content to be here at all," India replied honestly, "but as I am, I prefer being his body servant to being his whore. I only wish it were not necessary for me to be so unclothed."
"Clothing confers status," the eunuch answered her. "You have no status except that which your master gives you, girl."
"What language do you speak here?" India asked him. "I have an ear for languages, as do most of my female relations. I would learn the language of this land. Will you teach me, Baba Hassan?"
Her request surprised him. "We speak the Arabic tongue," he told her. "If the dey gives his permission for you to learn our language, then the lady Azura will teach you. I will inquire tomorrow. For now we will return to the dey's apartments. The final thing I must teach you is how to prepare the love cloths. Our master is a virile man, and requires female companionship every night."
"I know how to prepare love cloths," she said, surprising him once again.
"But you are a virgin," he said, astounded.
"I am," she confirmed, "but my mother was the daughter of the Grande Mughal Akbar. She was raised in India, and when she came to England she brought her servants with her. When I began my monthly flow of blood, Rohana, one of Mama's women, with my mother's permission, taught me how to prepare love cloths. Mama always said that nothing spoiled a man's pleasure more than the unseemly evidence of previous pleasure."
The eunuch nodded. "Your mother was correct, girl, and now I understand why your eyes are almond shaped. Your Mughal blood shows."
They had reached the dey's apartments again, and, leaving her at the door, Baba Hassan said, "Since you know what to do, do it, girl."
India reentered the dey's chambers. In one of the wall cupboards she found a silver ewer. She filled it with water, which she perfumed with rose oil. Next to the basin was a stack of neatly folded linen cloths. Taking a dozen, she brought them with the basin into the dey's bedchamber and set them by the bed. Going back out into the garden, she found Caynan Reis observing the moon. "I have, I believe, completed my duties for the day, my lord. Is there anything I can do for you before I retire to my pallet?"
"Go to the harem, and bring back the woman, Nila," he told her. "She is a blonde, actually the fairest hair of them all; and most voluptuous of form. I wish her company tonight." He looked directly at India, his dark eyes unfathomable.
"I am to fetch your whores for you?" India was outraged.
"You have the choice of fetching them to me, or taking their place," he said coldly. "And do not call them whores, India. They are perfectly respectable harem women, and honored within my house. Do not pass judgment upon that which you do ndt understand. This is not your England. It is El Sinut. When you have brought Nila to me, you may spread your pallet outside my bedchamber door in case I have need of you in the night. You will not hear me if you are further away."
Turning on her heel, India ran from the room. This was the final humiliation, she thought. First she was forced to walk about half naked all day, the nipples on her breasts painted carmine to draw attention to them, except no one was supposed to look. She had waited on this arrogant dey hand and foot. Bathed him! Fetched his food! Laid out his clothing! Dressed him! And now she was expected to bring his whores to him? It was intolerable, but if she didn't do it, who knew what he would do to her. He was such a complex man. Kind and fair to those whom he judged, yet thoughtless and cruel when he sent poor Adrian to the galleys. She didn't understand this man, but she had quickly learned that he would brook no disobedience.
Finding her way to the harem, she entered, looking about at the women there. They ignored her, for she was not as important as they were, being only the dey's body slave. There were seven women from whom she might choose, and four of them were blond and voluptuous. Then Azura was at her side, murmuring softly, "Which one does he desire?"
"Nila," India answered in a low voice.
"She is the one with the breasts like two soft pillows," Azura told India. "The blonde with the longest hair is Mirmah. Laylu wears her hair always in a thick plait, and the last blonde is Deva. The redhead is Sarai. The tall brunette is Samara. The petite brunette is Leah. Have you enjoyed your day?"
India laughed. "It has been interesting and informative," she told the mistress of the harem.
"Come and see me when you have the time," Azura said. "Now go and fetch the chosen one."
India walked across the main chamber of the harem, stopping before Nila. "The dey desires your presence. You are to follow me," she said in neutral tones. Then she turned, and departed the harem, assuming Nila would follow. The dey's concubine scrambled to her feet and, with a smug look at her companions, hurried after India.
"Do not walk so quickly," Nila complained. "My legs are not as long and gawky as yours are. I am delicate and fine-boned."
India said nothing, but she did slightly increase her speed. Delicate and fine-boned? The girl was a peasant!
"I shall tell the dey of your rudeness," Nila cried.
India stopped, and turned about. "And I shall tell him I overheard you disparaging his manhood when I entered the harem," she told the lush blonde. "Naturally, I was shocked. What did she mean you have the prick of a worm, my lord?"
"You would not dare!" Nila's blue eyes were wide with fear.
"Do not find yourself on my bad side, Nila," India warned her, and then she continued on her way, leading the blonde into the dey's apartments. "I'm certain you know the way from here," she said sweetly.
Nila almost ran past the English girl, and India overheard her trilling as she entered Caynan Reis's bedchamber, "Ohhh, my lord, I have come as quickly as I could!"
"India! Fetch a carafe of sherbet," she heard the dey call. "Why is there none already here? Hurry!"
She slammed from the apartment, and ran through the cool halls to the kitchen. It was empty, but there upon a silver tray was a carafe of fruit sherbet and two small goblets. Picking them up, India hurried back, and slowly entered the bedchamber. The dey and his companion were both naked now. Nila sat between her master's spread legs, and, as he fondled one of her large breasts, she slowly and sensuously sucked the fingers of his other hand, her eyes half closed, her face a mask of open desire. India stopped, not certain where to put the tray.
Nila finished drawing upon the dey's fingers, taking his hand and bringing it down to her Venus mound. The fingers seemed to have a life of their own, stroking her as she began to squirm beneath his attentions. The dey's eyes met India's. He could see the confusion and the surprise upon her beautiful face. She tried to look away, but could not do so, and she flushed with her shame.
"Put the tray by the bed, and then find your pallet," he finally said, taking pity on her.
The hard voice seemed to rouse her from her stupor, and she tripped over her own feet to do his bidding, almost running from the bedchamber to escape the disturbing, yet exciting scene she had just witnessed. Her heart was hammering wildly. Her legs felt weak. Pulling her pallet from the cupboard, she saw a neck roll, and drew it forth, too. She spread her bedding before the dey's bedchamber door, and lay down, but when she closed her eyes, she saw again the dey with his paramour. Her eyes flew open. Why was she so disturbed? she wondered. The dey was not hurting Nila, and, indeed, she was encouraging his attentions. Surely there was nothing wrong if the dey and Nila were content. She closed her eyes again, and dozed, only to be awakened by the sound of a woman moaning deeply. India crept closer to the door, and put her ear against it.
"Ohhhhh! Ohhhhhhh! Ohhhhhh, my lord, do not stop! I am in Paradise! Oh! Oh! Yessssss!" Nila's voice cried.
India's eyes were wide with shock, and then she heard the dey groaning, but the sound was one of pleasure.
"I'm not going to stop, you insatiable little bitch," he said. "I'm going to keep on until you are finally satisfied!"
"Ohhhhh! Ohhhhhh! Yes! Yes! Yes!" Nila half sobbed.
India curled herself into a ball, her hands over her ears. She might be a virgin, but the audible sounds of lovemaking were obvious. For some reason it disturbed her greatly, and the earlier image of the dey and Nila caressing entered her mind again. Oh, God, what is happening to me? she wondered. She tried to picture Adrian Leigh with her in such a manner, but she could not. To her deep distress she found herself taking Nila's place in her mind's eye. It was too horrible to even contemplate. She did not know this man. How could she imagine such intimacy with a man she didn't really know? It was wanton.
The days that followed took on a familiar pattern that mirrored the first day she had begun her service to Caynan Reis, and yet each day was different in its way. She particularly enjoyed the mornings when he would hold public audiences, or when officials or visitors would come to speak with the dey. Only the Europeans and the Jews, seeking the dey's favor, found it difficult not to stare at her naked breasts with their bright red nipples. Oddly, she began to find humor in the situation. The afternoons were hot and long, and very dull. The dey gave permission for Azura to teach India Arabic. It was very difficult having a different alphabet she needed to learn, but it was a challenge, and India always enjoyed a challenge. One afternoon several months after she had come to El Sinut, they finished their lessons, and Azura ordered a cooling sherbet brought with a plate of honey cakes.
"You are doing very well," she praised India. "It took Caynan Reis much longer to master what you have mastered in just these past four months. You have a knack for languages, my child."
"Who is he, Azura? Caynan Reis, I mean. How did a foreigner rise so high in the sultan's service?"
"He was a captive, very much like your own cousin, who now sails with Aruj Agha. He spent almost two years in the galleys, and then one day while his ship was anchored in the harbor, my lord, Sharif el Mohammed, was rowed out to it to see its captain on some small matter of business between them. Caynan had, by that time, proved his worth to the vessel's captain and was no longer chained to an oar. Instead, he served the captain as his steward. Their business over, Sharif el Mohammed left the ship, but as he was getting into his own barge, he fell into the sea. He could not swim, and indeed he was weighed down by his garments. Caynan leapt over the side into the water, and saved the dey, Sharif el Mohammed.
"In gratitude, my own dear lord Sharif freed Caynan and invited him into his service. They became fast friends, and as my lord Sharif began to sicken, Caynan Reis took over more and more of his responsibilities. My lord wrote to Istanbul telling the sultan that he was dying and asking that Caynan Reis succeed him. The sultan agreed. My lord died shortly thereafter, but he was content knowing El Sinut was in safe hands." There were tears in Azura's bright blue eyes.
India reached out instinctively to comfort the woman. "Do not weep, my lady," she said.
Azura laughed weakly. "It has been a long time since the mention of Sharif el Mohammed's name could render me weepy," she said. "He asked Caynan Reis to allow me to remain in the only home I had known since my capture. Caynan Reis is like a son to me. He has been gracious and very kind. Tell me, my child. Are you learning to like him?"
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