“Forget her? Never.”
“Then you must let me help … ”
Avilia unfastened the thin strap of her dress and let it slide over her body. Glistening, supple breasts, firm and youthful with round, darkened nipples, pressed lightly against him.
“Come with me to my private rooms, Sinbad,” she entreated, her hand again upon his manhood.
“I don’t think I should,” he answered feebly.
“Then you would deny a woman all she offers?” She nibbled at his neck, her tongue darting between moist, wine-flavored lips. “Can you not be chaste anew tomorrow, and spend this summer’s night with me?”
Sinbad looked over his shoulder to the dreaming Argulo. “What about him?” he asked. “I fear your lover would be most displeased with you.”
Avilia frowned. “Argulo is a fool. I only keep him around because he holds powerful sway at the sultan’s court. Such men are — er — useful. But in truth he means nothing to me. Nothing. A woman can find greater pleasure with a palace eunuch.”
She half closed her green eves and gazed longingly at Sinbad. With mortal man’s weakness, Sinbad took her in his strong arms and kissed her passionately, desire overwhelming the reluctance of his heart.
“Come, my darling,” she whispered. And while the dancer continued to cavort among the guests, Avilia coaxed Sinbad up and led him by the hand from the chamber and to her lavish private quarters.
There, flesh hungrily seeking the touch of flesh, Sinbad swam within her delights, his rapture rising like a floodtide, lost within the feel of her hips and womanhood, which encompassed his entire body and mind until her secrets unfolded their pleasure and gratification.
Bodies glowing in perspiration, they lay silently side by side, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes, panting for breath in the afterglow of contentment.
Avilia purred anew, laying her head across his breast, letting her unbound hair spill over the sides of the feathered bed. All now was total silence, as outside the first hints of dawn had begun to crack the black horizon of the starry sky.
“Stay with me, Sinbad,” she asked as the sailor sat up against the pillows and stroked her hair. “Stay here in Damascus. You’ll find the sultan most amiable. Certainly you would be an asset to his court.”
Sinbad sucked in a breath of cool air from between clenched teeth. “Your offer is most kind,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. “But as I’ve said before, I have other matters to tend.”
Avilia scoffed. “What can be so important?”
“To reach the sea,” he replied. “I have an ocean to cross and a flower to find … ”
Lady Avilia glanced up with puzzlement; Sinbad laughed, not bothering to explain about Don Giovanni and their search for the elusive Red Dahlia.
“When do you leave?” she asked.
He shrugged. “In a few days’ time.”
“And have you a ship waiting in port?”
Sinbad sighed glumly. He had neither ship nor crew, all his wealth having been left behind — and most likely confiscated — in Baghdad.
“I have very little waiting,” he admitted. “My hopes are to earn the money I need for my own vessel.”
Avilia nodded. She wet her lips with her tongue and slitted her eyes. “Perhaps I can be of help,” she said.
“You? How so?”
“A business transaction between us … ”
Sinbad leaned forward, brows furrowed with interest. “What sort of transaction do you have in mind?”
Avilia smiled her cat’s smile. She locked her eyes with Sinbad’s, and the sailor saw a shrewd mind behind them.
“I will pay you to go to Jerusalem for me,” she said flatly.
“Jerusalem? What for?”
She sat up straight, brushing back her hair with her hand, easily making the transition from lovemaking to business.
“I will not lie to you, Sinbad,” she said. “As you heard before, my young cousin, Diona, is set to wed Sheik Kahlil. There is little time for Diona to be transported safely to her husband, and I want to insure that she reaches him safely and soundly” — her voice grew colder now — “as intact as the day she leaves.”
“Are you asking me to take her?” asked Sinbad.
Avilia nodded firmly. “There are few in Damascus I can trust. And, as you know, the roads are unsafe because of the Karmathian bandits.” She leaned in closer and started to whisper. “Diona is a valuable prize, Sinbad. These hillmen would give much to capture her and hold her for ransom. You see, by marriage she is also related to the sultan himself, who entrusted her into my care. Should anything happen to Diona … ” She indicated her fate by crossing a finger over her throat.
“So you would entrust the girl to me?”
Avilia threw back her head and laughed. “To the famous Sinbad? Why not? Of course I would! Why, one man like you is worth fifty of Argulo’s ilk. I’ll give you all the escorts you need. Well-trained and armed palace guards … ”
Sinbad, mulling over the matter, shook his head. “Too many troops would only attract attention. It would make these Karmathians most curious. Best for the girl to be escorted by only a single companion and arouse no suspicions.”
Avilia smiled at the mariner’s cunning. “You’re right, of course,” she said. “Then you’ll do it? You’ll bring Diona to the sheik?”
Sinbad held up his hands. “Hold on. I didn’t say that. My plans were to reach Tripoli — ”
“I’ll pay you well,” reminded Avilia. “Almost any price you ask. Diona’s safe delivery to Jerusalem is far too important to me to leave it to chance. But think, Sinbad! This little errand for me will pay more than enough to secure your ship — you would be a fool to refuse.”
Sinbad sighed and leaned back, deep in contemplation of Avilia’s offer. This certainly seemed more than a fair bargain, a single week’s journey out of his way and a generous payment in return. Yet he had to wonder about Lady Avilia’s own motive in the matter. Could it have something to do with the dowry Sheik Kahlil had promised, as Argulo had hinted earlier?
The clever girl lost no time in realizing her companion’s reluctance. “I haven’t been completely honest with you,” she admitted, avoiding his eyes.
“I suspected as much,” replied Sinbad. “Before I even consider this offer of yours, I want to know everything. The full truth, otherwise the bargain is off. Now, what is it about Diona that makes you so afraid she’ll never reach her destination safely?”
“My cousin has no intention of reaching Jerusalem,” Avilia responded simply.
Sinbad winced. “What do you mean?”
Avilia laughed a curt, cold laugh. “Ah, men! Are they all so blind? Is it so hard to understand? My young, pure cousin claims the shiek is ‘too old’ for her. Imagine! But it’s only a child’s romanticisms, Sinbad, I assure you. Diona dreams of … well, of a prince. You know what I mean, don’t you, hmmmm?” She cuddled closer and flashed her luminous eyes.
“So I’m to be your insurance marker against her trying to run away, is that it?”
“Yes, you could put it that way. Is it so wrong? So wrong to stop her from being so rash? Diona is hardly a woman of the world, Sinbad. She doesn’t understand these things; she hasn’t yet seen or experienced life, never known its cruelties.” Her eyes were damp. “Sheik Kahlil is a fine and generous man, and he’ll make her a perfect husband! He’s not so old — not so old. Most women think he’s — er — quite handsome and dashing for his age — and everything a girl like Diona could ask. Please, Sinbad. You know I only want what’s best for the child. Please help me to do the right thing … “
“A woman’s heart is hers alone to give,” he observed wisely. “Maybe this sheik really would be better off with another bride, a more willing bride.”
Avilia shook her head vehemently. “Sheik Kahlil is a most astute and beneficent man, and he knows how to forgive the foolishness of youth. While visiting here in Damascus, his eyes chanced upon the fair Diona, and immediate
ly he fell in love with her. Why, his very breath is for her, Sinbad. Gladly does he overlook whimsies and flutters of a child’s untrained heart. He asks only that she be brought to him pure — and that, dear Sinbad, is one promise I fully intend to keep. No living man shall ever touch Diona, save for him, her husband-to-be.” She took Sinbad’s hand in her own, held it tightly. “Will you consider helping me, or” — and here she looked away with a distasteful frown — “or must I leave the job to someone like Argulo? A man without finesse, without your character and understanding.”
Sinbad drummed his fingers, deciding. Avilia had made a powerful case, he knew. A most convincing case. And the simple fact was that if he didn’t do the job, someone else would, and he would have thrown away his chance of quickly acquiring a ship.
“All right, my lady,” he said at length, hoping he would not regret the deal. “I’ll take Diona to her husband — but it has to be done my way. Quietly, alone, with no fanfare or caravans.”
“As you will, Captain. I place the child in your competent hands. But remember to be careful. This leader of the rabble is a cunning devil. If Ben Abdul finds out the identity of your charge … ”
“Leave it to me,” rejoined Sinbad. “I’ll have Diona in her husband’s house within a week.”
Avilia squealed with delight. “Thank you, Sinbad,” she cried. “Now I can sleep in peace, knowing all is well cared-for.”
Sinbad grinned as she smothered him with kisses, pushing him back down upon the bed. Moments later her artistic hands had easily prepared him again and they shared another round of each other’s bountiful pleasures. Avilia moaned softly at his touch, clinging wildly, calling out with her passion as the sailor felt his strength return.
The sun had long risen by the time their lovemaking had ended, and, while tiny birds sang pretty songs in the trees, both Sinbad and Avilia fell asleep in each other’s arms.
*
Eighteen-year-old Diona, the pretty and mysterious young woman Sinbad had seen that evening in the garden, stood pouting with folded arms in the morning shadows of the portico, watching with disdain as three cud-chewing camels were watered, packed, and prepared for the journey.
Cajoled into a kneeling position, the double-humped animals remained still while busy servants tied the various trunks upon the baggage camel’s back with braided twine.
Diona smiled thinly as she watched Sinbad move from beast to beast, examining teeth, forcing open droopy eyelids, running his hands along the thick muscle of their legs and thin cloven feet. At times he grimaced, at others he smiled. Then he stood, and called to the nearby skinner that they had passed his inspection. All camels were deemed desert-worthy.
So, thought Diona with a glare nothing short of contempt, you are the famous Captain Sinbad, eh? Come as my cousins lackey to force me to Jerusalem. Was it Avilia’s lips that enticed you? Or the lure of her gold? Perhaps both? Enjoy it while you can, good sailor. The desert is a strange and cruel sea.
The sound of sandals upon the portico caused Diona to turn abruptly. Dressed in a flimsy robe that brazenly hinted at the golden, supple flesh beneath, came Lady Avilia, eager to see the departure.
Diona regarded her silently, with a baleful eye.
“Good morning, dear cousin,” said Avilia with a light laugh, one that left little doubt of her sense of victory. “I trust that you slept well last night and are prepared for your travel?”
Gloat while you can, slut! thought Diona. “Yes, my lady,” she said with a slight but polite curtsy. “As much as I am loath to depart this happy home, I am even more pleased to be upon my way.”
Avilia met her eyes evenly and smiled. “Grieve not, young cousin. Your husband will quickly make you forget all you leave behind.” Her soft voice was filled with sarcasm and venom, not unlost upon the seething girl.
Diona clasped her hands as if in prayer and bowed her head. “I hope my husband shall not be disappointed … ”
Avilia laughed grandly, pouring her gaze up and down Diona’s well-developed body. “The sheik admires things of beauty; his hands fondle with the greatest care.”
Diona sneered. “You should know, sweet cousin,”
Avilia flushed. She drew back a hand to strike the bold girl, then thought better of it and smiled complacently. “I shall warn your escort to take extra-special care,” she whispered in a husky voice. “We must see that the blushing virgin remains intact — ”
Tears came to Diona’s eyes and Avilia chortled. She turned her back upon the girl with a brisk move that sent her robe twirling behind and moved quickly toward the small gathering.
Besides Sinbad and the various attendants, Argulo stood aloof at the side of the path. He and Avilia exchanged brief secret glances before she went on to greet Sinbad.
“Almost ready I see, Captain,” she said, batting her eyes.
Sinbad, hands on hips, nodded, his tanned features in stark contrast to his sand-colored turban. “That we are, my lady. I’ve double-checked everything. We can be on our way as soon as your cousin gathers the rest of her belongings.”
“Diona has all she needs,” Avilia replied casually. She glanced at the strapped baggage, letting her eyes linger a moment longer on a small pouch lashed firmly to a trunk. “Do not forget to hand this package personally to Sheik Kahlil,” she told him.
Sinbad squinted his eyes from the glaring sun. “No, indeed. Everything you asked shall be carried out to the minutest detail. In six days’ time — seven at most — we shall be in Jerusalem. Rest assured Diona is in good hands.”
Avilia laughed merrily. “I’m certain of that, Captain Sinbad. That’s why I chose you for the task. Ah, but I almost forgot!” She drew inside her robe and took out a small purse laden with coins “As agreed, here is half your payment in advance. Sheik Kahlil with provide the rest himself upon your arrival.”
Sinbad took the purse, tossed it in his palm, and tucked it safely away.
“You can count it if you like … ”
The mariner grinned. “Not necessary, my lady. We trust each other, do we not?”
At this Avilia unclasped her veil, stood on her toes, and kissed Sinbad lightly on the cheek. “Take care, Captain,” she whispered. “And should you decide to return to Damascus … “
He kissed her on the lips, unmindful of Argulo’s grimace, and held her at arms’ length. “Although my heart belongs to another, I shall never forget you, Avilia.” And he turned to the attendants, gesturing that he was ready.
“Stay close to the main caravan route,” cautioned the skinner. “And be mindful of that rogue Ben Abdul. Danger waits amid those Judean hills — and many an unwary traveler has come to regret his journey.”
“I’ll be careful,” assured Sinbad. He was no hero in these matters, not by any means, but a lifetime of adventure had made his senses as sharp and as cunning as any. If this Ben Abdul had any designs on him or his charge, the bandit would sorely pay for his folly.
“One more thing,” said Avilia. She clapped her hands and a servant came running. He kneeled before Sinbad and held out his open hands. Sinbad stared and then laughed. It was the knife — the tiny knife he had agreed to purchase in the bazaar but had completely forgotten about.
“A gift for you, Sinbad,” said the smiling Lady Avilia. “Keep it hidden and use it well.”
“And now we go,” he sighed. He whistled loudly and from the nearby pond Don Giovanni came leaping and bounding, hopping onto Sinbad’s shoulder as the sailor arched his body low. “Ha!” he said to the frog. “Thought I’d let you spend the rest of your life sloshing about in mud, eh?”
His merriment was short-lived — he turned abruptly at the sound of an anguished cry and looked on startled to see lovely Diona being dragged toward the camels by two brutish servants.
“Louts! Animals!” cried the girl, spitting into the face of the servant twisting her arm. “Oww! Let go will you? Allah, that hurts!”
Sinbad grew angry at the sight of the helpless girl. That Diona wa
s spoiled, strong-willed, childish, impudent, and all the other things Avilia had told him might well be true — but the handsome sailor from Baghdad was not about to stand idly by and watch the highborn girl being treated like so much dirt.
“Take your hands off her!”‘ he boomed.
The surprised servants stopped in their tracks, their eyes looking first to Sinbad and then to Avilia.
Avilia stepped closer and nodded. “That won’t be necessary,” she told them. “My cousin can make it to her camel by herself.” Then she glared at the girl, saying: “Can’t you, Diona?”
Diona returned the icy stare, rubbing at her pained wrists. “Very well on my own, my lady,” she answered. And while everyone looked on, she brushed past Avilia and lifted herself onto the saddle of the kneeling camel, scornfully looking at Sinbad, who offered his hand.
“It would be better if we were on speaking terms,” said the sailor. “It’s a long ride from here to your husband’s camp.”
“Go away,” replied Diona with unabashed anger. “I can take care of myself well enough. If it’s company you seek, look to your frog — and leave me alone!”
Don Giovanni, still pretending to be merely an ordinary frog, sat dumbly on Sinbad’s shoulder, but as the sailor turned, in resignation, he whispered: “There is trouble ahead on this little adventure of ours, mark my words.”
Sinbad frowned and mounted his camel. He slapped it gently with his whip and the beast grunted, standing upright. At the urging of the skinner, Diona’s camel did the same.
Argulo stepped up for the first time to face Sinbad. Written across his features was a mixture of sarcasm and humor. “Better for you to have her hands tied and her mouth gagged,” he told the sailor. “Lady Diona is a hellcat personified, Captain. A mutinous crew indeed! You shall regret giving her these freedoms.”
Sinbad glared down at the man, well aware of Argulo’s desire to be rid of him forever. “I doubt such a measure will be necessary,” he replied dryly. Then he swung his beast around, knowing that the camel’s hooves would kick up clouds of dirt into Argulo’s face. As the outraged lord coughed and sputtered, Sinbad looked to Diona with a smile. Diona, it was plain, was trying to contain a grin of her own.
The Thief of Kalimar; Captain Sinbad; Cinnabar Page 55
