As security lifted him up and marched him out of the office, Rilas kept shouting, “Corceus will rise!”
Duga looked down at the spot on the carpet that had been the target of Rilas’ spittle. There was saliva mixed with blood.
“Maniac. He couldn’t seriously have thought he’d kill the crown prince,” Gyles said.
“But he nearly did,” Duga said. “This may be the closest, most serious attempt made on a Thasali royal yet. You heard what Rilas said. Gerion, or Ovech, bragged about how easy it was for him to get into the harem. There could be other Corceus and their sympathizers in the Thasali household.”
Gyles shrugged. “So we’ll find them and root them out.”
Eretu said, “Gyles, go find madame’s private secretary. Tell her I need to speak with the Matriarch. Go now.”
Now it was just Eretu and Duga left in the little office. Eretu smiled. Duga thought she looked a bit tired.
“You must understand, Duga. Gyles is like most Thasali staff—stout-hearted, good at what he does and fiercely loyal. Gyles’ family has worked for Thasali for generations. Thasali have always stared down every threat to their position and won. Thasali have always won. To someone like Gyles, why should this be any different?”
Duga looked down at his haphazardly bandaged hand and wrist, the wrist that had been tattooed for years with the Thasali colors until a week ago when it was made bare. Now, the skin was injured and red. Blood soaked through the fabric, rendering this remnant from his suit a garish clash of colors.
“But is this any different?” he asked. He waited impatiently for Eretu to answer. “Is it?”
“Yes.” She turned and left quickly.
*~*~*
Duga strolled over to the palace atrium, where the revels were already underway. One of the palace physicians had cleaned and dressed Duga’s wounds with proper bandages. He was on duty during the revels in case anyone needed medical attention. Duga listened to him chat away while he wondered if the young physician could be a Corceus or a Corceus sympathizer. He was too tired to ask how or where the physician got his medical training.
As Duga made his way to the atrium, he wondered how much Eretu knew of other Corceus threats and if she’d be willing to tell him what she knew. Most likely, she wouldn’t, but he had his own sources of information, namely Menefy and Shebi. Besides, his job was finally done. Nearing the atrium, he heard laughter, shouting, music and moans and cries of ecstasy. The smell of elodie oil filled his nostrils. He doubted Eyakan and Baboye were in the main hall. They were probably celebrating in Baboye’s chambers. Eyakan was probably topping Baboye right now.
Duga was able to walk through the atrium without attracting much notice. He saw a portly visiting royal krasking a young man’s ass while the young man sucked on the cock of another royal. In another part of the atrium, a group of dignitaries and merchants applauded a ring of several harem boys all sucking each other’s cocks. A beautiful pool was the atrium’s centerpiece. Several men—young, old and middle-aged—relaxed or cavorted in the pool. Duga stopped briefly and looked up. The ceiling over the pool was clear glass, always kept spotlessly clean. It was a clear night. He could see the crescent of one of the moons and stars dotting the night sky. The sight made him yearn to be outside, so he left the atrium and the palace. He walked slowly back to the harem compound, occasionally stopping to gaze upwards. By the time he climbed into bed, he dropped off to sleep immediately.
*~*~*
While he was packing in preparation to leave the harem again for the last time, there was a knock at the door. He at first thought it was Rilas bringing his breakfast, but then he remembered the events of the night before. Rilas might even be dead already. Duga went through to his office and opened the door to a member of the palace guard.
“Good morning. Is something wrong?” Duga asked, wondering if another assassination attempt had been made.
“Sir. The Matriarch requests your presence immediately, sir,” the guard said.
“Immediately? Well, I’m packing a few of my things. Can you wait a few minutes?”
The guard seemed to consider this request for a moment.
“A few minutes, then, sir.”
Duga thanked him and was about to close the door when the underservant from the kitchens loomed in the doorway, bearing a breakfast tray. Duga finished packing quickly while grabbing a few bites of his breakfast, wondering if perhaps the Matriarch wanted to discuss the potential for more Corceus threats. The notion excited him—not the potential threats themselves, but the idea that maybe the Matriarch trusted him enough to talk to him about how to thwart any more Corceus nonsense. As he and the guard walked through the compound, he noticed how quiet it was. Most harem members and staff were probably still asleep. The energy of the days before was gone.
The guard ushered Duga straight into the Matriarch’s office. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he knew the Matriarch wouldn’t be discussing anything to do with Thasali security, mainly because Baboye was there with Eyakan. Duga remembered from his days as Baboye’s consort that he was never privy to high-level information. He was puzzled because he couldn’t think of any other reason for the Matriarch to want to see him.
“Rigers. Thank you for coming,” the Matriarch said.
She looked relaxed, refreshed. Maybe she spent the night with her secretary, Duga mused.
“I will keep this brief, Rigers,” she started.
Duga glanced over at Eyakan.
“Don’t worry. He now knows who you really are,” Baboye said.
“You should consider staying on as the sex trainer at the harem. You’re very good,” Eyakan said and winked.
“Gentlemen,” the Matriarch said.
“For your service to Thasali this past week and for your silence about some of the events that have recently occurred, you will be henceforth known as Khedive of Isidoros. It is a noble title that you can pass on to your children. We are also giving you a large parcel of land to go with the title. It’s on the outskirts of Resedna. You can do whatever you wish with the land. The title and deed to the land were delivered to your manservant this morning. They only need your mark to be official.”
Duga’s mind was in a whirl. A Khedive? This was more than even he could have imagined when he and Shebi had first gone to the harem auditions. And land!
Baboye advanced on him, his arms outstretched. “Say something, man!” He hugged Duga, who laughed.
“Yes. This is wonderful,” Duga said when he finally found his voice.
Eyakan came over and hugged him, too.
The Matriarch cleared her throat. “I do have work to do, gentlemen.”
“Yes, of course, madame,” Duga said. “Thank you.”
*~*~*
Duga left the palace and walked to Shebi’s brothel thinking about what to do next. He knew he didn’t belong in the harem, and he wasn’t even so sure he belonged on the grounds of the Thasali palace. His new title meant he was no longer a servant. He was free, so he really wasn’t chafing against the “Thasali yoke” anymore. He doubted he would be considered for the chief of staff position, but he didn’t think he wanted it now.
Shebi greeted him upon arrival, and Duga told him about everything that happened, including the fact that he now had a royal title.
“What now, sir?” Shebi said. Duga thought he detected a playful mocking in his old friend’s voice.
“No need to be so formal. I’m still just Duga to you.”
Shebi nodded. “Oh, I know. I just think it’s important that you don’t forget your place now.”
He gestured at Duga’s bandaged wrist and hand. “Did the knife damage your tattoo?”
“Oh, I guess I didn’t tell you. As part of my undercover activities, I had to have the tattoo removed.”
Shebi looked shocked. “Really?”
“I can get it re-inked if I want to,” Duga hastened to assure him.
“Do you want to?”
Duga looked down at his
hand and then outside at the flags and banners emblazoned with the Thasali colors and crest that still hung from balconies, lampposts and in windows on this windless day.
“I don’t know,” said Duga. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shebi open his mouth to say something, but he closed it again.
The loneliness that he had felt before he went undercover returned. The past week had been exciting. He had enjoyed Eyakan’s company a great deal, but he was not to be Duga’s. He now had land and a title but not much else. There was Menefy, but he wasn’t sufficient company, as fond as Duga had grown of him.
It was only when Duga laid his eyes on Apamar and Jamas that he realized that he didn’t have to be alone. Duga sat on the settee with Apamar gently massaging his shoulders, carefully avoiding any injured skin. Jamas took a seat at Duga’s feet.
“Jamas, Apamar, how would you like to join a new noble household?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t,” said Shebi. “They are two of my best!”
“But I would. Besides, just last week you were saying you had plenty to choose from,” said Duga. “I am now Khedive of Isidoros. I have land, and I need to build a house. I want Jamas and Apamar to join me.”
Jamas started kissing Duga’s feet. Apamar kissed the top of Duga’s head.
“I say yes,” said Apamar.
“So do I,” said Jamas.
Shebi frowned at Duga as he walked out of the harem arm in arm with Apamar and Jamas. Duga smiled back. He would return to the brothel soon. Shebi never remained mad at him for long.
###
Stolen from the Harem
Tales of the Thasali Harem 2
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter One
Midmorning had arrived, and Oranto’s twin suns blazed high in the magenta sky. The drapes of the Thasali harem’s largest and brightest room were parted just enough to allow the intense beams of light to fall across the bed where Prince Vidnar and Charis lay side by side. There was room for three or four people on the bed, and indeed there were times when it had held that many or even more. But for the present, to Charis’ delight, Prince Vidnar wanted to share it only with him.
Just now the prince was moaning with delight as Charis held a small clay jar over him, dripping spiced ointment onto Vidnar’s smoothly muscled back.
“Ahhh,” he exhaled deeply, moving his shoulders a bit as the oily liquid pooled between them. “Yes, you’re doing it exactly right. I can feel the heat building slowly on my skin. It feels like a set of gentle fingers.”
“Just as the merchant described,” Charis agreed. He reached down and massaged the oil into Vidnar’s flesh, feeling the warmth creep up his own arm as well.
“Yes. I must admit I am a bit surprised. He wasn’t exaggerating at all. Perhaps I won’t give the rest of the jars to my brothers after all. You and I can probably make better use of them.”
Charis smothered a giggle. “Yes, your highness. As you wish.” The exotic ointment had been purchased from a merchant wagon that had rolled up outside the harem doors with guarantees of increased sensations of pleasure and amplified bodily stamina during certain types of activities. The prince had sent Charis out at once to purchase several bottles. Vidnar would test it on himself, he declared, and if it worked as promised, he would gift some to his brothers. All of them, he maintained, were sorely in need of a little physical release in order to improve their emotional dispositions.
“Still, we haven’t performed the most important test yet. Are you ready?”
“Whenever you wish, your highness,” Charis said, a bit of nervousness creeping in around the edge of his voice. He tilted the vessel upward, preventing any more oil from oozing out, and held it up as Vidnar turned himself over on the bed. Charis licked his lips as he stared down at the evidence of Prince Vidnar’s obvious—and no doubt painful—arousal. “Let me know at once if it hurts you,” Charis urged.
“Don’t worry. I will. But then, I expect a bit of discomfort. That’s part of the allure, don’t you think?”
“I wouldn’t know, your highness.”
“Then we’d better go ahead and find out, don’t you think? Do it now.”
“As you wish,” Charis agreed. His hand trembled as he tilted the jar, and he winced when a small splatter of oil dropped onto Vidnar’s middle. Vidnar hissed with excitement. His cock snapped up stiff and ready.
“Lower,” he urged.
“Yes, your highness,” Charis stammered. Then he closed his eyes and let the oil drop directly onto Vidnar’s cock. He waited, tense with anxiety in case the strong ingredients of the potion would hurt the prince’s tender flesh. He would not want it said that he had caused his master any harm, and not only because he feared punishment. The thought of Vidnar experiencing even the slightest discomfort made Charis ache too.
Luckily, the application of the oil seemed to cause Vidnar no ill effects. Instead, it appeared to make his erection grow longer and thicker, the shaft taking on a vibrant ruddy color as the concoction worked its magic.
Craning his neck, Vidnar watched the transformation with fascinated delight.
“I think the potion is working,” he said excitedly. “The merchant was telling the truth after all! I think it’s bigger than it’s ever been before!”
Charis doubted that but didn’t say anything. After all, he was familiar with every detail of the appendage in question, and it appeared much the same as always. He suspected that the power of suggestion, along with the burning sensation caused by the oil, was causing Prince Vidnar to see what he wished to.
Still, it wasn’t his place to argue.
“Yes, your highness,” he said, smiling with an enthusiasm he didn’t have to fake. “The effect is extraordinary.”
“Come here, quickly, before the potion wears off,” Vidnar ordered.
Scrambling to obey, Charis climbed atop Vidnar’s body and fitted himself accordingly. He felt the spiced oil blaze agreeably inside him as he rocked back and forth as if riding a fast-moving beast. The prince, he had learned over the course of their many sessions together, preferred the join with him that way—fast and hot and recklessly.
Before long Charis felt the familiar tingle deep within his own body. Vidnar was right—the oil’s ingredients really did react with one’s flesh, giving the impression of tiny fingers tickling at his insides. Breathing hard, Vidnar lunged upward and then froze in place as release claimed him. He shuddered for a moment and then exhaled loudly and contentedly before he fell back on the bed.
With a small moan, Charis eased himself off the prince and lay back down beside him. His own cock throbbed with need, but he did not dare touch it without express permission from Vidnar. His cock, along with the rest of his body, belonged to Vidnar now. Or, more precisely, it belonged to the royal family, of which Vidnar was one of the younger representatives. He had come of age only the month before and visited the royal harem for the first time. Charis had been his birthday gift, in a sense, and they had not been separated since. Being chosen as the preferred consort of a prince was an honor Charis had scarcely dared to hope for when he had first joined the harem, and he was always on guard lest he do anything to displease the prince and fall out of favor.
“Most gratifying,” Vidnar said, eyeing the now-empty bottle of oil still clutched in Charis’ hand. Looking up, he scowled at Charis’ vague expression of pain as his balls swelled, painfully unemptied. “It gave you pleasure, too, did it not?”
“Yes, my prince,” Charis said. There was only one way to answer that question. He was there to serve the prince’s needs, not the other way around. He could now find pleasure only in the prince’s satisfaction.
“Perfect. I want to please you,” Vidnar said.
“No, my pri
nce. It is my job to please you.”
“You do.” Vidnar smiled. He traced a finger over Charis’ lips and seemed to drift away in thought. Presently a frown creased his handsome features. “In fact, you are the only one who does. My life at the palace is decidedly unpleasant these days. Just this morning, my mother demanded that I report to the armory and take battle training until the midday meal. I told her no.”
Charis suppressed a gasp. Vidnar’s mother, the Matriarch, ruled not only their land, but her family, with an unyielding will that had become legendary. He could not imagine anyone refusing one of her orders. “Was she not angry?”
Vidnar laughed. “Furious. So was my older brother Baboye. I found their wrath quite amusing, especially when I turned my back on them both and simply walked out of the room.”
Charis gaped. He had no idea how Vidnar could be so casual about such things. Back on his family’s farm, Charis had never dared refuse his parents anything for fear of being brutally slapped or even beaten with a switch or a strap. Of course, things were different on farms, and he was no prince, born to a life of privilege and freedom.
Unconcerned with Charis’ shock, or perhaps just oblivious to it, Vidnar wriggled away from him and stood up. “Now I’m in the mood for a bath. You will accompany me, of course.”
“Yes, your highness,” Charis said, rising as well. The place between his legs still ached with need. He hoped Vidnar would notice soon and afford him some sort of relief.
They passed through the large bedchamber to another room laid entirely in brightly colored stone, where water from an underground hot spring bubbled and steam rose from deep pools set into the floor. Every morning, harem servants scented the baths with flower petals and specially prepared healing salts. A few of the petals were floating on the surface even now, and the room smelled fragrant and fresh, like an indoor garden.
The two floated around in the water a while, relaxing and enjoying the warmth. Charis was at last able to stroke himself discreetly under the water. As much as he wished he could have broken protocol and asked Vidnar to attend to his needs, he held no resentment about his position. He didn’t mind serving the prince at all and keeping to his assigned place in the hierarchy of the Thasali household. On the contrary, he considered it a great privilege to serve in the harem. Having passed his trial period of six full moon cycles, he had earned his family great honor and even money by becoming a full-fledged member of the harem.
Tales of the Thasali Harem Box Set Page 11
