Tales of the Thasali Harem Box Set

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Tales of the Thasali Harem Box Set Page 13

by Danielle Summers


  “Yes…yes, your highness.”

  “You are my lover, Charis, not my servant. I don’t want you to forget that. I will always protect you and do whatever it takes to keep you near me.”

  The prince’s arms went around Charis’ middle, crushing them together as they slid down into the warmth of the covers. Charis could hardly believe his good fortune at not only loving, but being loved, so purely and completely. Truly Vidnar was something special, a man among men. Charis was sure he was dreaming as Vidnar covered his willing body with eager kisses.

  Chapter Three

  The next few days passed in a happy haze of togetherness, sweet kisses, and whispered endearments. As much as Charis enjoyed the feel of the prince’s hands on his body, he liked the quiet moments, when the two of them simply talked about disappointments of the past and dreams for the future, even more.

  One issue Vidnar liked to speak of often involved his troubled relationship with the rest of the royal family. Charis could not help but notice how often the prince showed up at the harem and boasted how he had skipped out on some diplomatic function, military inspection, or ceremonial promenade the Matriarch had planned.

  “No one will miss me,” he was fond of saying. “Certainly not as much as I would have missed you if I had stayed away for the whole afternoon.”

  One day, while Charis lay in the big bed with Vidnar, a servant knocked and came into the room, pale and nervous.

  “Krask! How dare you interrupt us?” Vidnar had barked, sitting up abruptly, his gold eyes flashing with anger.

  “Beg pardon, your highness,” the boy said in a strained voice. “An urgent message from the palace.”

  Vidnar cursed and got up, grabbing his robe form the floor, where he had carelessly discarded it. “I’ll be back,” he told Charis. “You may wait here. It’s probably nothing important.”

  He was laughing as he walked down the hall after the servant. When the prince didn’t return right away, as promised, Charis also scooped his robe off the floor and crept out of the room to see if he could spy on the proceedings. Though he didn’t dare to go too far down the hall, and he didn’t see anyone, he heard raised voices coming from a nearby chamber. One of them was Vidnar’s—no doubt about that—and the other seemed to belong to his brother, the fearsome Prince Baboye. Charis could not make out exactly what they were saying, but the gist of their argument seemed clear enough. His suspicions were confirmed when Vidnar eventually did return to the bedchamber, just a few moments after Charis had hurried back and slipped under the covers.

  The prince wore his usual smirk. “Once again, my mother says I’m neglecting my royal duties. She sent my brother to scold me for my laziness. Fools! Don’t they know my most important duty is to make you happy?”

  Charis couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I am concerned that I am causing you trouble with your family, your highness,” Charis said, his stomach fluttering with fear. It was not the first time he had expressed such worries. As much as he hated the thought of getting Vidnar into trouble with the Matriarch and her inner circle, he feared for his own place in the royal household even more. After all, Vidnar could scarcely be cast out of the palace, but Charis could certainly be sent out into the city streets, disgraced, to fend for himself.

  “You mustn’t waste time thinking about such matters,” Vidnar assured him, sliding back into bed and pulling Charis close to him. “I am perfectly capable of dealing with my mother and brother.”

  Charis allowed himself to drift along on the pleasant feelings generated by Vidnar’s warm body and reassuring words. What more could he do? The prince had ordered Charis not to worry, so he didn’t.

  *~*~*

  The next morning, after the prince left with a vow to confront his mother once and for all, Charis bathed alone, dressed, and returned to his lessons. In truth, he had been neglecting his own duties lately, too. All of the harem members were expected to attend to their own education and personal improvement when they were not busy servicing their royal patrons. Today he slipped into a lesson on the poetry of antiquity, which he had to struggle to pay attention to. Thoughts of Vidnar’s kisses and more intimate caresses kept intruding on his thoughts while the poetry master lectured to the group.

  When the lessons were finished, the scholars retreated to one of the back gardens to enjoy a leisurely meal in the sunshine. One of the newer initiates, Defri, approached Charis and asked if they could eat together. Charis agreed and the two settled down under a shady tree with a large platter of honey-soaked bread and steenago fruit to share.

  Defri, who was obviously still finding his way around this new way of life, was quick to ask Charis questions. “How did you come to this place?” he asked.

  “Like many of the others here, I started out very poor,” Charis told him, though of course compared to some of the initiates he had heard about and met, his farming family had been rather well off. “My parents no longer wished to support me, so I had to leave home and make my own way. I, along with many others from the southern quadrant, gathered in the marketplace of Pyriel. All of us were hoping for a chance to better ourselves. Luckily, I was chosen to come to the city and train for the harem.”

  Defri lifted one hand and looked sadly down at the cuff on his wrist. Charis knew what he was thinking—he was eager to complete his probationary period and become a more permanent part of the harem. Charis himself had been in the same position once before his wrist was tattooed with Thasali royal family colors, indicating that he was now a full harem member.

  “You were very lucky to attract the prince’s fancy,” Defri said with a sigh.

  “Indeed I was. It was a great honor.”

  “Do…do you think I will ever be that lucky?”

  Charis gave Defri an encouraging smile. “You never know. Prince Vidnar has many brothers, and a good number of cousins besides. Then there are legions of ministers and diplomats wandering around the court. One of them may very well fall in love with you.”

  Defri brightened and polished off another piece of bread. “That would be wonderful. It must be delightful to be the favorite of a royal—almost like a dream. Do you love the prince?”

  “More than anything. And it’s even better than a dream, I promise you.”

  Defri seemed about to say more when both of them noticed a tall, grim-faced bald man hovering on the other side of the tree’s broad trunk. Charis saw Defri’s eyes widen, and he seemed to choke a little on his bread. He had good reason to feel nervous. Oraj, the harem master, could strike fear into any of his charges with no more than a stern glance. Though Charis had never known him to be cruel, he did not tolerate misbehavior or disrespect among the harem boys. He, no less than the royals, had the power to eject any of them without warning.

  This time, his unflinching gaze fixed on Charis alone. Charis felt his chest tighten with anxiety.

  “Leave us,” Oraj said to Defri without so much as glancing at him. Obviously relieved, Defri leapt up and fled. Charis forced himself not to show his own trepidation as he looked up into Oraj’s narrow dark eyes.

  “Defri was asking you about the prince,” Oraj observed, folding his arms over his well-muscled chest. Charis swallowed. In general, any interactions or conversations between harem members and royals were supposed to be kept private. Certainly, they were not intended to be fodder for gossip among the boys, though of course such chatter went on all the time when the masters were not listening. Charis wondered if he was about to be reprimanded for speaking too freely to an initiate.

  “Yes,” he admitted. Oraj had clearly heard them talking, so there was no point in denying it.

  “You and the prince have grown very close,” Oraj observed next, again startling Charis. “Come—answer me plainly. I have no time for pretense or evasion.”

  “Well…yes. Prince Vidnar and I love each other.”

  “So you say. If I were to ask his highness the same question, would I get the same answer.”

  Charis sw
allowed and nodded. What was Oraj getting at? And why did the question make him fidget? “I-I believe so.”

  Oraj’s face took on a pained expression. This, too, surprised and unnerved Charis. “I have served this brothel for many years, you know. In fact, I was even in your place at one time. I was the favorite of not just one, but many a royal prince, and a few high-ranking ministers besides. Some were very handsome.”

  He seemed to be waiting for a response, so Charis nodded. “I am sure that is true.”

  “Throughout my time in the harem, no matter what anyone said to me or promised me, I took care to guard my heart. That is as essential a skill here as offering your backside or sucking cock. You must always keep your wits about you, Charis. It is easy to get carried away on the wings of desire and other mind-muddying feelings. What men say when they are on their backs is not necessarily what they will say when they are on their feet before the Matriarch.”

  When he realized what Oraj was getting at, Charis tried to prevent the twin bursts of heat from exploding in his cheeks, but he failed. “The prince would never lie to me,” he insisted, knowing he was overstepping his bounds but not caring. “He would never hurt me, either.”

  “What you might interpret as ‘hurt’ he might characterize as duty or even necessity. Anyhow, I am not attempting to predict Prince Vidnar’s actions. What I am suggesting is that you keep your eyes open and hold yourself above petty intrigues and foolish words spurred by emotion. If you can, you will have a fine and long future here.”

  Charis set his jaw stubbornly—much the way Vidnar did when he complained about his mother’s demands. “My future is with the prince.”

  “You may think as you wish. All I ask is that you consider my words. One day, perhaps their meaning will become clear to you, and my cautions will make sense.”

  Letting his arms drop to his side, Oraj turned and walked on. Charis watched him go, seething with a rage he dared not express. No one understood his love for the prince, nor the prince’s devotion to him. The prince was not a liar. He was not fickle. He would give his heart once. He had given it to Charis. Had he not said so again and again? How dare Oraj question his own masters with such blatant disrespect?

  Charis had heard many stories of harem members rising in the ranks to become part of the royal family’s inner circle. Duga Rigers was one such legendary figure. He had become Crown Prince Baboye’s consort and then favorite adviser. Now, he had a noble title and land. Many times Charis had seen him walking along the street in his fine clothes, reveling in his position at court. Duga had done well by becoming the favorite of a royal—no less than Prince Baboye himself. Why could Charis not do the same thing? He was every bit as clever as Duga and probably much more skilled in the bedchamber. Wasn’t that what really mattered?

  *~*~*

  The prince did not return to the harem that night, and Charis slept in his own small room for the first time in a long while. The next morning, though, a message arrived for him. A palace servant brought it to him right after breakfast, handing Charis a beautiful scroll with long gold handles. The writing inside was equally beautiful.

  Meet me in the center of the marketplace at midmorning, the message read. Come alone. I am eager to see you and to speak to you about an urgent matter. -V.

  “Don’t go,” Defri said when Charis showed the scroll to him. “I have heard that the market is not a safe place for any of us. Why would the prince ask you to go there unattended? Why would he not simply come here?”

  “Perhaps he wishes to purchase something for me and does not want anyone else in the palace to know about it.” Charis found Defri’s skepticism annoying, even if it did make sense in a way. It was true that the marketplace was considered a bit of a rough area, rife with thieves and drunken people from the lower classes of society who came to watch the public shows featuring puppets, jugglers, and dancers. Harem members were discouraged from going there, though they were not actually forbidden. Yet Charis felt that he was more than capable of looking after himself, and surely the prince would have his own guards attending him. Perhaps they would all be in disguise. Surely that was it—the prince wished to treat him to an exciting afternoon away from the prying attentions of his mother, brothers, and harem officials like Oraj.

  “I would still urge caution,” Defri said.

  “Don’t worry. The prince knows what he is doing, and he will make sure I am not harmed. No doubt I will be back well before anyone notices I have even gone. Promise me you will not interfere.”

  Defri looked uncertain, but eventually he nodded. Eagerly Charis returned to his room and donned the rich outfit Lash had made for him, including the red cloak. No one in the marketplace would know he was a harem boy. They might even think, like the old man at the banquet, that he was a royal guest himself. Charis liked that, and better yet, perhaps one day it would really be true for him as it was for Duga, who could go where he pleased while wearing fine clothing of his own.

  He slipped out and walked briskly down the paved road that led to the marketplace. It was still early enough that no one noticed him leaving, much less asked where he was going. He enjoyed feeling the cloak snap and flap around him in the breeze. For a few moments he imagined what it might be like to actually be a prince or a man of freedom and means. He liked it very much.

  Excitement overwhelmed him the moment he got to the marketplace. Not only was he excited to see Vidnar and perhaps receive some interesting gifts, but the marketplace itself presented an amazing array of sights, smells, and sounds. He saw various garments and footwear for sale, though none so fine as he was already wearing, people of both sexes singing and playing musical instruments, and a stand offering scrolls inscribed with stories from all over the land. Other stalls offered bottles of unique wine, spices, and edible treats. He wondered what Vidnar intended to shop for.

  In the center of the marketplace, where Vidnar had promised to meet him, Charis paused to look at a row of uniquely carved figures. Some represented beautiful naked men, though none seemed as beautiful to him as Vidnar himself. He could easily see Vidnar buying a few of these to decorate their shared chamber, though. This was surely the stall the prince had intended him to notice.

  While he stared at the statues, someone bumped into him and pushed him rudely to one side. Lifting his head, Charis started to protest at the rough treatment. The words never had a chance to leave his mouth, however. Before he had time to step out of the way, coarse hands grabbed him from behind.

  Chapter Four

  Panic surged inside Charis as another assailant joined the first, one grabbing him from either side. His flailing did no good as they dragged him backward through the crowd milling around the stalls. No one called out to him or attempted to interfere as his abductors pulled him between two merchants’ tents and back into a narrow space not visible to the customers. There he was gagged, blindfolded, and a cord bound tightly around his wrists. Another length of rope went around his ankles. Unable to scream or even see, he struggled in vain as the two men lifted him into what felt like a wagon and shoved him onto his side.

  “Stay there,” he heard someone say. “It’ll all be over soon enough. You’ll be better off if you don’t fight.”

  “Don’t worry,” another man added. Charis didn’t recognize their voices. “Your new masters won’t hurt you. They paid too high a price to do anything as wasteful as that.”

  “They’ll make use of you in other ways,” the first responded, and both of them laughed. “Ways you might even like.”

  Next, he heard a scraping sound, as though a curtain were being drawn across the back of the wagon, and as far as he could tell, he was alone again, Whoever had tied him up had done so with expertise, since no matter how he squirmed and twisted, he couldn’t free himself. If anything, the bonds seemed to grow tighter.

  After a while, he stopped struggling and lay still, trying to figure out who had taken him prisoner and why. Though he listened carefully, he heard no other voices. Then
, to his horror, he felt the wagon begin to bounce and shake as it rolled out onto some unknown road.

  Where were they taking him? And for what purpose? Where was Vidnar? Had they kidnapped him, too?

  Even if there had been anyone to ask, he couldn’t speak around the gag in his mouth. And trying to scream only made him choke and cough. He had no choice but to lie still and endure the darkness, the silence, and the bumpy wagon ride. The tears that streamed from his eyes soaked the blindfold.

  *~*~*

  After what seemed like many hours, the wagon at last came to a shuddering stop. Charis didn’t dare twitch a muscle as he heard someone undoing the back flap again. What sounded like two pairs of footsteps came clomping toward him, and then hands rolled him onto his back.

  “I see he took good care of the outfit,” a different voice said. “It’s very striking on him, no question, though Zav may decide he doesn’t need it anymore.”

  “Lash does good work,” another stranger agreed. Charis gathered that somehow, his initial abductors had turned him over to these two. Who any of them might be he had no idea. “Still, Zav would probably prefer to see him without any outfit all.”

  The two snickered at that thought, while Charis felt himself turning red all over.

  “He will enjoy our gift, I think, though with his nonsensical ideas of social justice and servants’ rights, he’ll probably protest at first.”

  “He’ll get past that soon enough. In time he will thank us. ’Tis time he learned to enjoy life again.”

  “We should take the cloth from his mouth, perhaps. I’m worried that he can’t breathe.”

  “Why don’t we let Zav do that? If he screams now, he’ll give the whole game away. And he seems like the type who wouldn’t hesitate to make a fuss.”

  “I can’t imagine who would hear him out here. But whatever you say.”

  “We can go and get Zav now, I think. He should be done unhitching his beasts by now.”

  A blunt-fingered hand reached down and patted Charis’ head. “Zav is a good man. You have nothing to fear from him.”

 

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