Tales of the Thasali Harem Box Set

by Danielle Summers

  “Well? Do you want to become an actor? You could carouse like this every night,” Zav pointed out.

  “It is a bit much for me,” Charis said, suddenly unsteady on his feet. “I think I would like to sleep now.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Zav said. “Let us go, then.”

  Staggering together and laughing at their own clumsiness, they made their way back through the dome. The members of the theatrical troupe weren’t the only ones out partying, Charis noted. People were singing as they walked past, some carrying jugs of wine and others musical instruments of various sorts. Here, the women stayed out at all hours along with the men. Charis couldn’t help staring at the chaotic scene in awe and a little fear. Not even harem parties grew this disorderly.

  Back at the wagon, Zav moved aside some heaps of merchandise and tumbled onto his bed. Unable to hold his head up for another moment, Charis fell down beside him.

  “I can set up your bedroll…” Zav offered, but Charis shook his head. He didn’t want to get up again. He kicked off his slippers, and curled up beside Zav still in his tunic and leggings.

  Just as he was about to fall asleep, he felt Zav’s arms slide around him. His fingers brushed against the spot between Charis’ thighs, sending a sudden jolt of arousal through him. Charis felt himself blush. This wasn’t right, he reminded himself. He belonged to Prince Vidnar. He had no right to receive pleasure or attention from someone else.

  Nonetheless, he didn’t pull away. Zav’s hand applied more pressure. Delicious tendrils of want curled through Charis’ body. He held his breath, unsure what to do next.

  “How I’ve missed you, Siphu,” Zav muttered in a drunken haze. Then, as though he had realized what he had just said, he started awake and his hands jerked away. He and Charis stared into one another’s bleary eyes for a moment. Soon Zav turned sadly onto his side and fell asleep.

  Chapter Seven

  “Who is Siphu?” Charis asked the next morning while they hastily prepared to get back to their selling stall. “I heard your brothers mention him, too, and last night you called me by his name. Was he your servant before…ah…before I came along?”

  Zav paused in the middle of loading a roll of cloth onto one of the wheeled carts and sighed. “No, he wasn’t my servant. He was my partner. My lover.” A cloud passed over his face, and his words spilled out in a torrent, as though he had been biting them back for too long. “Up until lately, he was my whole world. He helped me in the business. I thought we were building something together. Then he met someone richer and more handsome than me.” Zav snapped his fingers. “And like that, he was gone.”

  Charis pondered this. The other man may have been richer, but more handsome than Zav? Impossible.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. He was. He knew what Zav felt. But at least Siphu had a choice to make, even if Zav thought he had made the wrong one. Charis had been torn away from the prince unwillingly. He had to keep that in mind whenever he began to empathize too much with Zav and his brothers. They had participated in his abduction.

  By the time they got to the selling stall, customers were already entering the dome, eager to capitalize on morning bargains and claim first choice of the day’s goods. Charis was amazed at how hard Zav and his brothers worked. Being a traveling merchant had seemed like a glamorous profession at first, but in truth he saw now that it was backbreaking—and sometimes finger-numbing—work that left little time for the sort of pleasures he’d enjoyed even while performing his various duties in the harem.

  The day passed in a blur of customer questions and orders, measuring and cutting cloth to their specifications, and folding it up so they could carry it away with them. Charis wondered if Zav would suggest another night of carousing and entertaining, but by the time the daylight faded, both of them were exhausted. They decided to eat a simple dinner in Zav’s wagon and go to sleep early.

  To Charis’ astonishment, before they closed up the selling stall for the night, Zav handed him a small bag of coins.

  “Your wages,” he explained as they walked back toward the wagon.

  At first Charis thought of refusing, but he remembered that he could use the money to buy his way back to the city and to Vidnar.

  “Thank you,” he said instead and tucked the small bag into the sash around his waist. “I will never forget your kindness,” he added and genuinely meant it.

  “You’ll need to set some aside for when you go home.” Zav seemed to read his mind, but his tone made the statement seem almost a question. Charis got the sense that Zav was testing him somehow. He nodded

  “This should prove very helpful.” At one time, he had some small savings of his own, but of course those coins had been left behind along with all his other possessions at the harem. Even if he had brought them to the marketplace with him on that fateful day, he suspected they would have been taken from him when he had been abducted.

  “Do you have family back in Resedna?”

  “No. They live in the southlands, where they farm for a living. Or at least they used to. They received royal grants when I left them and joined the harem. They may live elsewhere now for all I know.”

  “You haven’t kept in touch with them?”

  “No. I have discharged my duty to my parents as far as I am concerned. I wish them well but I have no desire to see them again.”

  “They must have been harsh to you,” Zav surmised in a voice heavy with sorrow. Charis hoped he would take his silence as answer enough. That was one subject he did not wish to discuss with anyone.

  They did not speak further until they were back at the wagon. Zav spread out some bread and cheese and produced a bottle of wine he had purchased earlier from one of the selling stalls.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, laughing, as he poured them each a cupful. “This is nowhere near as strong as what we had last night. It will help us sleep, but we won’t feel like we were trampled by a herd of xoxobeasts.”

  “I am glad to hear that,” Charis said, tasting it. The flavor was mellow and fruity, and it did not burn his throat or tongue. Zav settled down beside him and munched on some bread.

  “What was the harem like?” he asked after a while. “I didn’t see too much of it when I went there with my brothers. We conducted our business in private rooms, and we were escorted out as soon as our sales were completed. No one ever offered us any of the special…favors…we’d heard about, if you know what I mean.”

  “I would hope not,” Charis said, not meaning to sound as harsh as he did. His old training kicked in when he least expected it, it seemed. “That particular harem is only for the members of the royal family and their guests.”

  “Ah. And they don’t include the merchants in that number, I take it.” Zav grinned as Charis blushed at his haughty outburst. “Anyway, did they treat you fairly? I would hope they didn’t force you to be with…just anybody, royal or not.”

  “They did not force me to do anything. Being chosen to serve there was a great honor both for me and my family! It was not a brothel in any sense of the word.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that. I’m sorry.” Zav poured himself some more wine and pondered this. “I understand your attachment to your position, though. Sometimes I feel that way when I really enjoy what I’m doing with the cloth. It’s work—hard work—but at the same time I know I would never want to do anything else. It’s like I’m doing what I was meant to do.”

  “Many of the harem boys do quite well for themselves,” Charis went on, determined to separate himself from the class of common prostitutes that Zav was probably more familiar with. “One even became a highly placed minister in the royal family, a jundum. It’s a unique sort of position that is not granted to just anyone. He had to prove his worth in every way.”

  Zav nodded. “I have no doubt you could do the same. The royals were lucky to have you for as long as they did. They made a huge mistake selling you off, and I hope they realize that.”

  Charis blushed. Obviously, Zav ha
d no idea that what had been done to him had been completely unheard of and quite probably illegal. He thought the harem boys were more like slaves or indentured servants, to be traded or sold off at will.

  “Still, their loss was my gain,” Zav went on. Charis didn’t have the energy to correct him, so he let the error stand. “I think I’ve been lucky to have you around, too, even if you can’t stay forever. You have been a great help to me since we joined forces. And I don’t just mean with the cloth.”

  His clear, dark eyes met Charis’, and his gaze seemed to caress his face. Charis’ blush deepened. Hastily he gulped his wine.

  “I remind you of Siphu, you mean.”

  “No. You are nothing like him. Please forgive me for blurting out his name last night, Charis. I was deep in my cups, and you mustn’t take my drunken ramblings to heart. Whatever happened last night, it is only you I am thinking of right now.”

  Suddenly, he leaned forward and kissed Charis full on the mouth. Charis couldn’t deny that he liked it—Zav was a handsome man, after all, and his little scruff of beard had an endearing way of tickling Charis’ chin. But Charis held back, and Zav realized it.

  After supper, Charis returned to his bedroll in the corner and Zav went back to his bed. They exchanged their goodnights pleasantly, though Charis detected a hint of strain in Zav’s voice.

  He fell asleep thinking again of Prince Vidnar, and all the things Charis would tell him about when he finally returned him.

  To his surprise, though, when he woke in the night, he wasn’t imagining Vidnar beside him. He was dreaming of Zav.

  *~*~*

  They were busy showing and cutting cloth when a tall, silver-haired man in a flowing purple garment came striding through the sales hall. A ring of people dressed more modestly, like servants, flocked around him and carried various bundles and purchases. The merchants from all the neighboring stalls rushed forward to greet and flatter him, offering him free samples and eagerly soliciting his business.

  “Who is that?” Charis asked in wonder.

  “That is Masylion,” Zav answered. “He is very rich. Everyone seeks him as a patron. However, his tastes are so exclusive that he rejects most offers outright. I am pleased to say he often buys from us. The garments he is wearing now were cut from our own cloth.”

  With a supercilious expression Charis found nothing less than offensive, Masylion stepped up to their stall examine the various bolts of cloth. He made a great show of touching, stroking, and unrolling everything that interested him. His servants clustered around him, watching his movements with great interest and awe. Zav’s brothers practically pushed one another out of the way to assist him, their eyes gleaming as brightly as the coins they no doubt anticipated receiving. Charis was glad that Zav did not behave so foolishly. He retained his dignity and stood by, answering Masylion’s question in a calm, professional manner. Charis admired his refusal to grovel like most every other merchant in sight. Masylion might have been rich, but Charis saw nothing especially admirable about him.

  Finally, Masylion looked up, directed a scornful gaze at each of the three brothers in turn, and actually scowled at Charis.

  “The hall is too crowded and noisy to allow me to make my selections with a clear head, he announced. “You must bring your finest inventory to my villa first thing in the morning, Zav. I will be there when you arrive. I trust your brothers can attend the stall for you while you are with me.”

  Charis saw the brothers’ mouths drop open, as though they were about to protest, but neither of them dared say anything. A cutting glance from Zav wiped the insolent expressions from their faces.

  “Of course, my lord. I would be delighted. My assistant, here, will attend me with your permission.”

  Masylion waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Yes, yes, of course. You can hardly be expected to carry so much cloth by yourself. Until tomorrow, then.”

  Without waiting for further negotiation, he turned and stalked off. Obsequious vendors, as well as his entourage of servants, trailed after him until he disappeared from sight. He paid them no mind.

  “How do you like that?” Sudar griped, crossing his arms over his chest. “Zav gets to go, and not us. Not a speck of justice in this world, is there?”

  “He’s right, though,” Zav said, biting back a smile. “Someone has to stay and attend to the customers here.”

  “Easy enough for you to agree,” Rohin grumbled. “You might not be so cooperative if he’d singled out one of us.”

  “What is so great about his villa?” Charis asked. “Why does everyone want to go there?”

  “You’ll find that out soon enough.” Sudar’s voice dripped with envy, like honey slathered on gilla bread.

  Charis turned to Zav and raised an eyebrow. “We are going, then?”

  “Oh yes,” Zav told him, his grin widening. “Most assuredly.”

  *~*~*

  They set out soon after the next sunrise, as soon as Zav had retrieved two of the xoxobeasts from the boarding area and hitched them to the wagon. Masylion’s villa lay tucked away in a quiet valley just beyond the city walls, far from the noise and smell of the dome and its surrounding streets. Here, chaos gave way to a serene natural order, with groves of brightly colored fruit trees, a large lake, and a scattering of small but exquisitely designed outbuildings. Some appeared to be pleasure pavilions set in various shady areas, but at least one structure was a perfect replica, in miniature, of the theater Charis had attended with Zav so recently.

  “Do you like it?” Zav asked as he drove the wagon along the winding path that led to Masylion’s house. They could see it in the distance, a vast white structure that rivaled the royal palace Vidnar and his brothers called home.

  “I think it is as close to perfection as I have ever seen,” Charis admitted, wide-eyed.

  “I’d like to buy a villa like this for myself—not quite as fancy, of course, as I will always be a man of modest means. For years, I’ve been putting aside part of the profits I make on the cloth. Eventually, I plan to turn the business over to my brothers and become a country gentleman.”

  “You don’t enjoy traveling?”

  “I don’t hate it. But I can’t do it forever. I think everyone wants to come home to the same place every night—the same dinner table, the same bed…”

  “The same mate?”

  “Yes. Surely that.”

  “I take it Siphu didn’t want the same thing.”

  “I thought he did at first.”

  “Do…do you despise him for leaving you?”

  Zav shook his head. “He had to do what felt right for him. I don’t believe in forcing anyone to be with someone who doesn’t please him. That’s why I don’t approve of what my brothers did to you. I hope it wasn’t too terrible for you, though.”

  “No. I’m grateful to you for your kindness. And I’ll never forget the travels we went on. The world is far different than I had imagined before I saw more of it.”

  “There’s plenty you haven’t seen, too. The sea, for example.” Zav pointed to the lake, shimmering off to their left. “Like that, only vaster and more powerful. Waves higher than a building.”

  Charis stared. He could almost see what Zav was talking about just by watching his fingers rise and fall in the air and letting his imagination do the rest. Seeing his dazed expression, Zav laughed.

  “Well, maybe you’ll get to see all that one day. I’ll see it again soon, too. I don’t have enough money to retire yet, though a few more sales to Masylion will help. We come here every season. He has been good to us. He buys my cloth not only for garments, but for his beddings, his draperies, and even tents. He has a good eye and an even larger treasure chest. But you’ll find that out for yourself soon enough.”

  He flicked the reins, and the xoxobeasts moved faster.

  Chapter Eight

  Soon after their arrival at the house, they attended Masylion in one of his spacious salons. He reclined on a wide and obviously soft couch�
��possibly covered with some of Zav’s cloth—and smiled when they spread out large bolts of fabric all over the floor. Charis moved around the room, smoothing wrinkles from the displays and turning the patterns toward Masylion so he could see them from the most flattering angle.

  “I like this new assistant of yours, Zav,” Masylion said, watching Charis with approval. “He has a feel for cloth. What competitor did you lure him from? Or did you simply snatch him from one of the stalls when no one was looking?”

  Charis’ cheeks burned while Zav smiled uneasily.

  “It’s true he did come to me most unexpectedly, my lord. He expressed interest in learning the business. So far I’ve been highly pleased with his skills.”

  “He strikes me as competent and determined. I don’t suppose you would be willing to part with him? My tailor could use some help here. He is appallingly slow with the garments I order. Doubtless he could use some help.”

  “With all due apologies, my lord, I need Charis on my wagon. My brothers are not always as efficient as I would wish.”

  “Hmph. I was afraid you might say that. I suppose I must make do with what I have. But if you ever change your mind, young man, you need only present yourself at my door.”

  Charis bowed the way he had been taught to in the harem training sessions. He was grateful that his posture hid his reddened face. “You are most kind, my lord.”

  “He has manners, too.” Masylion raised his silvery brows. “Will I ever find another one like this? Young men today are so crude and vulgar. They think only of their own pleasures, but are too impatient even to enjoy those.”

  Clearly eager to change the subject, Zav gestured toward the cloth draped all over the room. “Have you decided, my lord?”

  “I shall take all of them. Why not? I can well afford it. My treasurer will pay you after you stay for dinner.” He waved his hand. “I am planning a great feast tonight, and you and your assistant must attend and stay the night afterward. My servants will take you to a guest room now. We will eat at sundown—until then, feel free to amuse yourselves in any way you like. My estate is open to you in every respect.”