Tales of the Thasali Harem Box Set

by Danielle Summers

  “Please, Master Chadan. I would hope you know me better than that. Obviously, we will try to reason with him. No doubt he is already regretting his decision.”

  “Don’t be too sure of that. He is a stubborn lad.” Chadan knew Azno would not return to the palace willingly. Nor would he trust Chadan to protect him from Garghas. Chadan had pushed him away too hard. Why had he been so foolish? He should have predicted what would happen.

  “I told you. Leave this to me.” They watched as Toaz palmed his own face for a moment and went still. When he lifted his hands away, his cheeks glistened with tears that looked genuine until Toaz grinned and winked at them. “I will be more convincing this way. I will let them dry for a moment and then produce new ones. Shebi will think I have been weeping for hours in utter despair.” He fanned at his face, causing the tears to dissolve into some of the dirt deposited there by the wagon ride. The effect was remarkable. It did look as though Toaz had been wandering around in tears.

  “Impressive, I must admit,” Chadan said with an approving nod.

  “You should have become a performer,” Eru observed tartly.

  “It does not pay well enough. My tastes are more expensive,” said Toaz. He started toward the gate.

  From their hiding place, Chadan watched as a young man—again thankfully not Rufi—approached the gate, listened for a moment, and then darted back inside the brothel. A few minutes later, an older attendant came to let him in. They talked for a moment and then disappeared inside.

  “We will wait a bit and then present ourselves as customers,” Eru decided. He craned his neck enough to check the sundial in the market square. “They will open for business soon enough.”

  The thought of Azno working for Shebi, even in theory, made Chadan ill. But then, why should it? He had spent the night with Garghas. Compared to that, almost nothing could be worse.

  “Let us walk around the market a bit,” Eru suggested, motioning toward the square, where a few xoxobeasts and merchants were milling around, preparing for a day’s work. “It will make the wait easier. Staring at the closed gate will do no good, and they might see us.”

  Grunting his assent, Chadan followed Eru along a cobbled path that encircled a stone fountain. They strolled around the bubbling water twice before Eru spoke.

  “There is no need to hide from me, Master Chadan. You see, I already know that your concern for Azno’s well-being involves more than ensuring he is present for his concert performance.”

  “You are wrong,” Chadan muttered, mostly trying to convince himself. He failed. Therefore, he cleared his throat and made a second, more forceful attempt. “I am not capable of what you suggest, Master Eru. I closed my heart off long ago.”

  “I thought I had, too. I lived only to serve the palace—to train the initiates in matters of sex as I might train them to perform a dance or serve a meal. Emotion did not enter into my methods at all. Then I met Pikor.”

  “Yes. I know. I saw you together.”

  “I realize that. But I was not—am not—ashamed.”

  “Why should you be? Two tutors krasking is not forbidden. It is—” Mortified, Chadan bit down on his tongue. He had been about to say “different for me.” Thankfully, he stopped himself in time. In any case, Eru seemed unconcerned by his near-confession. He waved a hand as if to swat away that problematic subject and returned to talking of Pikor.

  “He has made me see things in a new way. But I am careful. Even if I am not breaking any rule, I understand how important it is to hide what matters most to us. The palace is full of spies all too eager to use their knowledge against us. You must do the same. Keep your heart safe.”

  “I do,” Chadan insisted.

  “But then, hiding your love is one thing. Living without it altogether is very different. I would never have said this before meeting Pikor, but now I think I would rather be dead than greet each day without the ability to feel.”

  Eru’s face had grown flushed during this last assertion. With some relief he pointed across the square. One of Shebi’s young men had come out to open the gate, hanging out a cheerful red banner and shaking the dust off it. “Ah. They are open,” Eru said. “Let us go.”

  Chadan found himself trembling as they walked through the gate and into the brothel’s courtyard. He knew Eru noticed his discomfort. The young men who had been frolicking and breakfasting were gone now. The grounds were quiet and sunny, with only colorful plants and shrubs adorning the stone benches and quiet bowers surrounding the structure.

  Shebi himself, effusive and obsequious, came hurrying to greet them at the door. A row of servants stood with trays of pastries and jugs of drink at the ready.

  “Welcome, friends, welcome! I see you are both early risers, like myself.” Shebi winked and chortled at his own joke. “There is nothing like sweet pleasures in the morning, is there? Makes the whole day wonderful. May I offer you some refreshment?”

  “No thank you,” Eru said in a flat, overly formal tone. “May we speak privately? I think you know why we are here.”

  Shebi’s expression darkened. His gaze flicked up and down his two guests with frank suspicion. “You are from the palace. Trainers. I should have realized.”

  “We mean you no harm. But I think we ought to…”

  “Yes, come, come.”

  Shebi waved the servants away and ushered Eru and Chadan into a cool, quiet room designed for luxurious comfort. Burning incense sent spicy tendrils into the air. Erotic paintings adorned every wall, and a large, highly detailed statue depicted two men in a clinch. Chadan averted his eyes as he took a seat on the pillow-strewn bench Shebi indicated. Eru remained standing, his back to the staute.

  This time, their host did not offer refreshments. Instead he came straight to the point.

  “The boy said he had been cast out. True, he still wore the wristband, but I had no cause to disbelieve him. Do you blame me? The harem has made its share of similar mistakes in the past. I have often been the beneficiary of certain trainers’ short-sightedness. If you must know, I sent him off to my cook for a meal and a place to rest. The poor lad was distraught.”

  Chadan almost laughed at Shebi’s indignation, all inspired by Toaz’s false tears and dramatic airs.

  “That is not the boy we are worried about,” Eru said. “It is the one who came before him, probably last night.”

  “Last night? I am not sure who you could mean. My establishment was quite busy last night.”

  “You know perfectly well whom we seek,” Chadan burst out. His voice shook and caught. “Dark hair, eyes as blue as a pool of water. He has great talent as a singer and poet.”

  “He might have used those skills to convince you to take him on,” Eru added hastily.

  “Ah.” Shebi paused, his shrewd gaze flicking from one to the other. Chadan could sense the moment understanding dawned. “Ah, that one. Yes. I remember now, and I freely admit he is here. No wristband, as I recall.”

  “That is true,” Chadan confirmed.

  “To be honest, I had my reservations about letting him inside at all. The issue was not his beauty. We can all see that is beyond doubt. No, I questioned his…suitability for the duties I would require. He is lovesick, you see. The youth seeks to escape one man by turning to many. I suppose we have all labored under a similar delusion in our day. Nonetheless, the strategy will not work. It never has and never does.”

  “May we talk to him?” Eru asked. He motioned for Chadan to remain silent, which he was happy to do. He knew his mortification showed on his face. “We won’t harm him, I assure you. If he wishes to stay, then we will not force him to go with us. You were correct to notice that he wore no wristband. Nevertheless, the situation is…complicated.”

  “Of that I have no doubt.” Shebi spread his hands. “As you know, I am always pleased to assist in palace matters. Come with me.”

  Though he had already opened his mouth to protest Shebi’s hypocrisy, Chadan thought better of it and instead fell into step
beside Eru. Wordlessly they followed Shebi down one corridor, up another, then through a curtained doorway where a servant drooped, dozing, on a small chair. Shebi kicked at his feet and growled at him. The servant blinked and tried to look alert.

  “Useless, all of them,” Shebi griped as he led the way to a room at the end of a short hallway. “I pay a fair wage, attend to their every need, and all I ask is that they turn in an honest day’s work without stealing too much wine from the storeroom. But you see what I must put up with.”

  Eru rolled his eyes at Chadan. “Tragic.”

  At the end of the hall, Shebi rapped once on a closed door, waited a moment, and then pushed it open. He didn’t enter the room himself. He simply stood back so that Chadan and Eru could step inside themselves.

  Chadan told himself not to hurry, not to give anything away. Eru was right about spies and the power of gossip in the palace. Today, Eru was playing the role of friend and confidant. Tomorrow, that could all change, and Chadan knew it all too well.

  Nonetheless, he reached the room several steps ahead of Eru and charged inside. He heard a gasp from the corner.

  Toaz was standing in the middle of the room. That surprised Chadan only momentarily. He had already decided that the two were in on this ridiculous scheme together. It made sense that Toaz would have found his way here before either he or Eru did.

  Azno was seated on the bed wearing a long robe-like garment, no doubt given to him by Shebi or the brothel staff. His arms were wrapped around his knees and his face was damp. Unlike Toaz’s tears, these looked all too real. Chadan felt an odd tugging in his chest at the sight of Azno’s obvious misery. He clamped his lips together, determined not to blurt out anything foolish the way he almost did earlier.

  “Master Chadan,” Azno whispered. His voice held a note that Chadan first took for dread, even fear. Then, gradually, he realized it was closer to awe.

  “I told you I would find him, Master,” Toaz boasted. “He is fine. I think he’s sorry, too. Most anyone who did something so foolish would be, I suppose.”

  “You did well, Toaz.” Eru came forward, stepped between Chadan and Azno, and took Toaz by the wrist. “Now let us give Master Chadan some time to speak to Azno. I think they have much to discuss. About the concert, that is.”

  “Of course,” Toaz said, beaming. “The concert.”

  “Some refreshment, perhaps?” Shebi finally asked, directing his comment at Eru.

  “We would like that,” Eru said.

  “Come with me, then, both of you.”

  While the three of them hurried away, Chadan remained in the same spot inside the doorway, motionless and speechless. The only move Azno made was to blink his eyes several times. An innocent gesture—deceptively so, Chadan thought.

  “You and Toaz planned all of this,” he said. He wanted to convey anger and disapproval but realized that he only sounded tired. “Don’t bother to deny it.”

  “I won’t, then. Have you come to drag me back to Lord Garghas?”

  Yes, Chadan wanted to say. How could I do otherwise? This is not, and has never been, our decision to make.

  When he parted his lips, though, something entirely different came out.

  “No. I have come to ask you to leave with me.”

  Azno gaped at him, momentarily struck silent. He shook his head as if to clear it. “You…you cannot mean that, Master. You would give up your work at the palace? For me?”

  “Yes. All of it. I only want you.” The words came out in a rush. Oddly, in the moment he knew he had lost everything he had ever worked for, Chadan felt almost giddy with relief and delight. Was he going mad? If so, he didn’t care. He rambled on. “We will go to the provinces. We can work in a village. It will be rough living compared to the palace, but we can do it. We will do it. Together.”

  “But… but…”

  “I know what you are going to say. As far as I am concerned, Lord Garghas no longer exists. Last night never happened. He may have claimed you, but you must always remember that you were mine first. I, at least, have not forgotten it.”

  Azno unfurled his arms and legs, sprang off the bed, and stepped toward Chadan.

  “I have not forgotten it either. But, Master, there is something you should—”

  “No. Not now. I do not want to think of him for one more moment. It is time we thought only of one another. Do you not agree?”

  “Of course, I do,” Azno whispered.

  A strange, strangling sound issued from Chadan’s throat. He was startled until he realized it was laughter. A warm rush of emotion swept over him as he slid his arms around Azno and hauled him forward for a mouth-searing kiss.

  Chapter Ten

  “I…I had hoped you would come,” Azno whispered when they drew apart. “I dreamed of it last night. But when I woke, I was alone again.”

  “You need never wake alone again if you do not wish it,” Chadan said. His head spun. Perhaps he was the one dreaming. If so, it was a wild, fevered dream, so real he could even taste the sweetness of Azno’s lips and feel the tickle of his breath on his cheek as they held one another close.

  “Of course, I don’t wish it,” Azno said. Then for a long time they said nothing more. As their kiss went on, their tongues twisting together and their urgent fingers kneading one another’s shoulders, Chadan at last allowed himself to believe the experience was real. A fresh surge of panic accompanied that thought, with so much left undecided about his future and with the prospect of leaving the palace for good. But he knew one thing. Life at the palace would be intolerable without Azno there to share it. Those small tasks and pursuits that had shaped his days for so long now felt meaningless and flat. How could simply reading about love ever compare to the real thing? What a fool he had been to try substituting one for the other.

  He had closed his eyes for the kiss, basking in the sensations of mouths, bodies, and hands pressing and stroking. When he opened them again, he saw that Azno had tugged him over to the bed.

  “We haven’t time, my love,” he said. Planting his feet, he tried to draw back. Azno’s hands, wrapped around his wrist, along with his pounding pulse and the ache in his center urged him forward.

  “Let’s be quick, then. Please, Master Chadan. We’ve both waited so long.”

  Azno was right, Chadan knew. Their time apart had been torture, the waiting worse than death. Faster than the flicker of a flame he was peeling out of his robe and sliding between soft, fresh-smelling sheets graciously provided by Shebi’s staff. It came as no surprise that the table beside the bed was outfitted with only the finest oils, arranged in colorful jars well within arm’s reach. Chadan gasped as Azno grasped his cock and rubbed warm, slippery lubricant up and down its length. Without the slightest hesitation, Azno rolled Chadan onto his back and climbed on top of him.

  “Take me, Master Chadan. Claim me. I am yours and yours alone.”

  Chadan felt a stab of regret that he had not acted sooner, before Azno had been forced to given himself to Garghas the night before. Had the experience been painful or even humiliating? If only he had been brave enough to storm into the room and fling Garghas aside—or at least help Azno escape before he had been forced to attend to that vile barbarian’s basest needs. Well, never again. From now on, he would always be there to protect and cherish Azno. He would give his life if he had to—after all, what was a life alone worth to him? Nothing at all. He had not realized that soon enough, be he planned to spend the rest of his days making up for that oversight.

  Azno moaned with pleasure when Chadan bucked his hips up and entered him. They rocked together, lurching and thrusting, every rub of Azno’s accommodating flesh igniting fresh pleasure. They were as one, Chadan knew, in more than just a physical sense. What Azno felt, he felt. Their thoughts, their desires, even their bodily sensations flowed into one powerful stream.

  Sweet release found him almost immediately, heaving through his body like a sudden storm. He heard Azno panting along with him. Those breathy gasp
s turned to squeals of excitement when Chadan recovered himself, took Azno by the hips, and used his mouth to guide him to an equally shattering climax.

  “Every day, Master Chadan,” Azno said. “I want to start every day like this, for as long as there is breath in our bodies.”

  “You should call me Haerek from now on,” Chadan said, curling his arms around Azno’s slim frame and threading their legs together. “And I am willing to try your idea, though I fear it will render us useless for many hours afterward.”

  “Nonsense. Surely it is like dancing—or sparring. Once one builds up a tolerance, it comes naturally and is no more tiring that a leisurely stroll through a garden.” Azno beamed. “Of course, to reach that level, one must practice frequently. Very frequently, in fact.”

  “Perhaps you are right. It is something to look forward to.”

  They kissed again. Afterward, Chadan sighed.

  “We must rise now. We will have to formulate a plan to leave the city as discreetly as possible. Perhaps we can find a merchant who is willing to sell us a spot in the back of his wagon. We can travel to one of the villages in the plains. No one will know us there. We will take on new names and try to blend in as much as possible while we find a way to earn our keep. Hopefully, no one will come looking for us.”

  “And if they do?” Azno’s voice caught on the last word, and Chadan saw fear flash across his face.

  “Then we will move on before they find us.” Chadan frowned. Again, it occurred to him that this was not, after all, a dream. In a dream, their actions would have had no consequences. In real life, he knew, things were far more complex—or perhaps complicated would be a more accurate way to think about it.

  “You will be sad to give up the palace,” Azno said. “In a village, our bed will be straw, our garments coarse. No royal banquets to ease our hunger.”

  “I can accept that if I must,” Chadan said. “But I think my biggest regret is that I have ruined your future. Your talent for poetry will not be of much use outside the royal court.”