First night:
Umara:
— I demand that they provide me with a burqa or at least a veil. I know I sound belligerent, and I know I've resigned myself to my future too quickly. But I cannot allow a vital part of the Joining ritual to be left out.
At least, it will be for me… My customs are all that I have left of my tribe and my identity. Although I have been uprooted from my land and am now treated as little more than a prostitute, I have made a firm decision to preserve my traditions.
—It is impossible. His Majesty must be able to look at your face and find pleasure in your beauty.- Protests the little woman with the wooden shoes.
—I care very little for His Majesty's pleasure.- I bark sullenly.
The little woman's eyes widen. He abruptly places a hand over my lips. His face with an expression of alarm.
—Shut up!- hisses.- Such imprudence can cost you your life.
I babble against her palm and she withdraws her hand.
—Good. If it's that important to you, we'll give you a veil. But if the cloth unleashes the wrath of my Lord I hope you are prepared for the consequences.
I swallow convulsively. My people do not fear death, from a very young age we are instructed on the path to the great heavenly Oasis. But the Kurani lords are famous for their cruelty and their acts of torture, capable of keeping a slave on the edge of his own life for many moons, without granting him the mercy of rest, even if the slave cries out for death.
The little woman orders the search for a veil and several maidens come out to fulfill her request.
—My lady, forgive me for my ignorance. But who is our Lord?
—We are not allowed to pronounce his name.- She answers haughtily. — Know that our Beloved is the one of whom the prophet spoke. He, who rules the world, whose steed rides over the fertilized field with the corpses of his enemies. The one on whose face the blessings of the gods shine.
The woman's voice was filled with such adoration, I felt my stomach churn with nausea.
—You must count yourself among the blessed few capable of seeing it in all its splendor.- I wish I had more time to train you in the arts that every woman must employ to please her Lord, but you have been ill for too long... and the presentation ceremony cannot be put off any longer...
The future opens before me like an abyss. The longest and widest I have ever faced. The court lady's words fall on deaf ears because my mind has been taken over by horror. A shiver runs down my spine, while my eyes fill with tears. I desperately search all sides of the room a knife or sword to plunge into my chest and die a quick and ignominious death. I know that if I choose to deny the grace of the Magnanimous and end my miserable existence, I will never be able to reach the Great Celestial Oasis, my soul will wander through the deserts of the realm of the living, along with all the suicides, condemned to howl their pain during all eternity within sandstorms.
But at least I won't suffer the disgrace of being the whore of the man who ordered the murder and destruction of my people! It cannot be, that after so much suffering, at the hands of the slaver, I have come to end up under the yoke of the greatest tyrant that has plagued the Continent.
000
I was brought to a different room. Where before the walls were white and pristine, now here they are reddish. It seems that when touching the stones of the wall you could scald my hands. Lady Cítiê, (yes, I managed to remember the strange little woman's name) almost fainted when she realized that the maidens who performed the ritual chants had made me walk through the interior corridors of the Royal Palace completely barefoot. His frustration was such that he threatened to whip them all, which I managed to prevent by explaining that this is another of my tribe's customs and demanding that my decision be respected. Which is true, somehow, the woman who despises her husband and wants his prompt death always goes to his meeting barefoot. I smile inside me. This method is always used as a method of protest, but it does not work as long as it is fair to those who justify it. I exhale sadly at the thought of my father, he would have married me to some sheepherder rather than sell me.
It has been a long time since the data and the Cíti's lady have returned. This sento just in the middle of the enormous cam where between rises and scandalous conversations have left me comfortable.
- Remember. You are a booty for our Lord, when he approaches you you must show submissiveness or seek his pleasure before yours.- These were the cryptic and last words of Lady Cítiê before leaving and leaving me locked up here.
I owe it to the legs of all the time that the left thread is in this position. The words of Lady Cíti gave us many words. C Procure the pleasure of the Terrible? Of the warrior wolf that destroys and devours its enemies? He grunted and twitched his lips.
Strangers ald damn with my own!
The woman sleeps profoundly on the joints of the ceremonial glass. The man who watches, admires from a second floor, through a strategically placed screen, the width of her hips and the shape of her legs. The roundness of her breasts powerfully attracted his attention, he clenched his hands into fists with the desire to mold and caress such generous mountains. A dryness had come over her mouth as if she hadn't had a drink of water in many cycles, her tongue moistened her full lips and she instantly imagined tasting those dark nipples clearly visible through the translucent silk.
Lust, hot and undeniable, had taken hold of him. His inner beast twitched at the scent of this new and unexpected female, his powerful, throbbing erection witnessing the blind desire driving him. The woman murmured and writhed in her sleep, stretching out her magnificent neck, as if he had touched her. Her breasts pressed against the silk that imprisoned them, threatening to escape.
A growl erupted from the male lips, echoing in the luxurious and huge room.
Umara:
I wake up with a start and sit up in bed. Has a noise woke me up? My heart is racing and I've got the goose-flesh. I get the weird feeling that someone is watching me, which is silly because the room is still empty. There is no one here besides me. I release a snort and adjust the transparent fabrics that try to cover me. This dress is really uncomfortable, it digs into my skin and the jewels embedded in the fabric scratch me.
I lean back on the nearby cushions and look around, splendor, all is splendor wherever I cast my eyes. I make a face. These silly kuranies and their lust for jewels!
My eyes travel up and I jump out of bed. Right there, on the reddish ceiling are thousands of images. Nude images of men and women. And performing all kinds of…acts…I feel the blood rush to my face and the nausea returns. Bile rises in my throat, and I put a hand over my mouth and run toward the first door to my left, hoping it will lead to a place where I can empty the contents of my stomach.
I managed to get out into a garden. After throwing up twice and wiping my mouth on the hem of my hellish dress, I take a deep breath to try and rid myself of the nausea. My body shakes and my skin is sweaty and cold. I tremble.
The images I saw a moment ago on the ceiling of the room are still fresh in my memory and cause me immense revulsion... At very early ages, as usual, my mother explained to my sisters and me what would be expected of us once married, that's why I always had a certain apprehension and suspicion towards boys and when I was older men have always terrified me. They are beasts, wild beasts with authority to rule over us! My older sister always protested. And now I realize that he was right. Those images… I shake my head trying to dislodge them from my memory and my eyes wander around the garden.
Wait…is this a garden? I wonder as I take in the black, smelly earth, the huge, parched, ghostly tree, the thorny bushes scattered here and there, the majestic ebony fountain. I frown. And I shake my head disapprovingly… Kuranies! They try so hard to make their world monochromatic no wonder they set fire to a garden just because they want to. I snort. I will never understand them… Everything out here is black.
—I see you disapprove of the Emperor's private garden…- a masculine and falsely sweet voice interrupts my thoughts. I turn sharply and behind me is the unknown owner of that sarcastically purring voice.
I take a step back, another and another… keeping the intruder in my field of vision. The individual wears white clothes, which contrast sharply with the blackness of the landscape. His head and face are covered with a thick turban and burqa, respectively. Only her eyes are visible, and for a moment I am paralyzed... Her eyes are beautiful, framed by thick black lashes, they are feline eyes... Cold, calculating, hunting eyes...
He speaks to me in ancient Kurani, perhaps he is one of the many nobles of the court.
— I didn't mean to scare you.-The powerful predator purrs, while a shiver runs through me. Because I know you lie.
— I'm sorry if I've crossed a limit and entered a forbidden place, Lord.- I whisper. My grandfather was a slave of the Kurani empire in his youth, he won his freedom after saving his master from an ambush. He achieved a fluent command of the language, he taught my father and he in turn taught me. I don't speak it as well as a native, but I'm proud of my ability.
— What is a desert flower like you doing in a place as dry and wild as this?- The man murmurs.
— When the storm blows, desert flowers fall and are blown away from the cactus that gave them life. maybe they'll find good land and prosper, or perhaps they are blown so far away… that they wither on the journey.
—Ah…you knew words. You are educated, after all. He says, apparently pleased.
—My father was the Shaman of my tribe. Many came to him for advice and wisdom. In my land, my ancestors were judges…- My voice falters, broken by the pain that makes my throat close in a spasm.
I see. Can it be said then that you are the princess of your people?
I look at him contemptuously and spit on the ground.
—Is a prince braver than a shepherd of sheep? Is a king stronger than a hundred of his soldiers? - I raise my face haughty. —I am not a princess, my people did not follow crowns or banners. Our forms will never be understood by a proud Kurani.
The man watches me in silence. For a moment I fear that he will come closer and raise his hand against me, but he looks me in the eyes, as if he wants to guess my thoughts. Then he lets out a wry laugh and continues.
—It seems that we have deviated from our original subject... Tell me, what do you think of the Emperor's Private Garden?
He extends his hand, pointing to the blackness around him. My eyes appreciate the place again and for a few minutes I can see the greenery and freshness that once dominated the ruin in front of me.
I crouch down on the charred earth, taking a handful and bringing it up to my nose. I brush my hand away immediately. The smell is disgusting. Similar to rotten eggs and death.
—The earth has been poisoned. - I answer. Dusting my hands carefully so they don't residue rotting soil, I stand up.
—Somehow, they have mixed sulfur and calabron, and these have ended up leaving the land of this barren place.- I keep my head down for a few seconds, to hide the fact that I am frowning.
I turn to my interrogator and he looks surprised.
—Are you completely sure?-He growls, moving quickly towards me. I have the impulse to flee, to back away, but I raise my forehead and face him.
—The doomsayers have prophesied that this place is cursed, do you think you have a greater gift of clairvoyance than the wise men in the service of the Emperor?
—I am Sindu. My people are nomadic and know the land. Soil quality is vital to our survival. The good water, found in the desert, is a reason for celebration among my people. If I tell you that this garden has been poisoned, you must believe me.
For a moment he weighs my words. It is impossible to read his thoughts because his face is hidden from my view. But his burning eyes show mistrust.
—If you're so convinced...then you can tell me what to do to return it to its former splendor.-He mumbles mockingly.
I bite my tongue to keep from answering what I really want. By the gods what an irritating man.
—Sir, this matter has a solution… -I use the sweetest tone that I am able to use-…but it won't be easy. You will have to remove the earth, dig until you reach the stones that are below, the earth you remove should be thrown into the sea, otherwise wherever you leave it, it will poison everything close to it...
He raises his hand and cuts me off.
—Why not douse it with sea water and leave it here? -He asks.
I snort exasperated.
—Because what you want is land where plants flourish and grow, isn't it? You need new land for that, it has become barren and therefore it is of no use to you. I recommend throwing it all into the sea, as far from the coast as possible. The saltpeter will take care of diluting it.
I watch him join his hands behind his back, and he seems to hesitate for a moment when he asks me:
— If your… diagnosis is true… Do you have any idea how they could have poisoned this garden? And who could have done it?
His tone is now more friendly, persuasive... I suspect that he is up to something.
— The how is easy to guess, Sir.- I say, pointing to the marble fountain with my index finger. - Poisoning water is the fastest and easiest way to poison land. As for who is responsible... it is impossible for me to give you an answer, but I suspect that if you investigate where the water from the fountain comes from or came from, you will be able to find the criminal you are looking for.