Feathers in the Wind: The Cygnets

by Camille Anthony

Because of a former Sultan's penchant towards voyeurism, these particular bathing rooms were constructed under a room possessing a glass floor. The ceiling of the main bathing room was decorated with open beams that allowed a person in the room above to observe the women below without their knowledge.

  Seana was hanging from the open lattice work. Somehow, she had knotted together several of the diaphanous veils and wound them through the widely spaced wooden scroll work. Apparently, after dragging two heavy benches to the middle of the floor, she had managed to get them stacked on top of each other. The top one was now half toppled over as if from an ill-placed kick, and Seana's body was swaying gently; a bizarre, mute wind chime in the slight breeze. The sheer, but tensile cloth fastened about her neck had tightened until her face was a mottled blue, her staring eyes protruding in her head, and her tongue, visible between her open blue lips, swollen and dark.

  Merridyth gasped, and in the same instant hurled herself up on the bench beneath Seana, her arms wrapping around the girl's still-warm legs. She pushed up, trying to loosen the drag of the cloth garrote. “Help me! I'm in the baths!” She screamed for someone, anyone to help her. “Hurry, hurry, hurry...!"

  Her arms trembled with the strain of pushing upward from such an awkward position. “Oh God,” she panted, terrified no one would come. Holding up Seana's limp form was agonizing, her muscles clenching in pain as tendons and bones unaccustomed to such activity were called into play.

  "Help ... someone ... oh, God ... please...” she whimpered repeatedly, praying someone would hear her before her strength ran out. She knew she held Seana's life in her weakening hands and was determined not to let go. But her will was stronger than her flesh, and she moaned, petrified as her friend sagged heavier in her arms.

  On the verge of collapse, Merri, sobbing her despair, dredged up one last ounce of strength from deep within. Bracing her legs, she lifted her shoulders and straightened under the precious load of her unconscious friend.

  Then there were lights ... a thousand voices ... hands reaching above hers to steady the body. Other hands grabbing the legs, pushing up sharply to increase the slack while still others cut the cloth.

  Seana's body sagged like un-molded clay into the waiting arms below. Merri collapsed beside her, unable to make her fingers release their vise-like grip, the metacarpals having frozen into tight curls. Strong hands pried hers loose from their stranglehold, and she fought them, crying, unwilling to give up that last connection, knowing ... knowing ... Seana was slipping away like water through her shaking fingers.

  She cursed the hands that tried to draw her away and struggled back to Seana's side. Catching up one of her friend's limp hands, she hugged it tightly to her chest. Closing her eyes to shut out the unacceptable reality, and better concentrate, Merri reminded Seana of their promises to each other:

  "Together, Seana,” she whispered breathlessly, “together ... our promise ... Remember. Remember..."

  Her vision darkened. She did not hear it said Seana breathed still. Did not feel Susan's arms about her as she gave way to the blackness, letting it suck her under ... It was the last time she had closed her eyes without seeing the horror of Seana's attempted suicide.

  * * * *

  "Merri, please don't cry.” Susan said, her soft voice coming out of the quiet darkness, guessing the cause of Merri's tears. Knowing how sleep eluded her, and how the memory of three nights ago was burned into the lids of her cousin's eyes so that she saw the replay whenever she closed them. “At least Seana is still alive. She may yet get better—” She broke off, unable to finish voicing what she now believed was a lie. After only three days, even optimistic Susan had trouble believing Seana would improve. She reached out, gently wiping the tears from Merridyth's face, ignoring her own as she recalled the vacant, staring mask that had become Seana's face.

  The court physician could not or would not say if the damage to Seana's mind was permanent caused by loss of oxygen to the brain or a withdrawal on the girl's part—a disassociation from an unacceptable reality—or how long it would last.

  In either case, Seana was an empty husk. A doll. A lifeless caricature of her former self. She voided on herself like an infant, and unless led about by the hand, simply wandered aimlessly all day. When not walking, she sat and rocked endlessly, gazing into the distance with unseeing eyes. She would eat if someone put food in her mouth, or grab at whatever came to hand.

  Susan shuddered, remembering some of the girl's impromptu meals. Shuddered again, recalling and how Seana had choked and gagged on a large chunk of bread some pitying person had stuffed into her mouth. That incident had taught them to cut up Seana's food into fine portions, and to soften it in milk or some other liquid. Despite their efforts, she still ended by wearing more than half of anything they tried to feed her.

  And the sounds. Susan despaired anew, recalling the shrill grunts and moans that issued form Seana's slack mouth; a series of random, senseless noises that repeated over and over and over. She no longer attempted to convince herself that the sounds might be an effort to communicate on Seana's part. As had become her wont, she turned to Merridyth for reassurance.

  "What are we going to do about Seana, Merri?” she asked worriedly. “I have overheard several of the women talking. They do not want her here. Said she was bad luck or some such.” Susan leaned closer to Merri, her concern plain in her voice. “We cannot let them send her away somewhere. Who would care for her? Watch over her? What of our promise to her? Merri,” Susan cried, becoming increasingly agitated, “she'll die if we cannot keep her here with us."

  Merridyth sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the raised pallet platform. She groaned, gathering her meager blankets about her. She leaned forward, scrubbing at her face with stiff fingers, then speared them through the thick, black fall of hair that had swung forward hiding her face from Susan.

  How Susan longed for someone they could give all their problems to, secure in the knowledge that they would disappear like the wispy mists that faded in the brightness of a spring day.

  Merridyth echoed her thoughts unknowingly. “God,Susan, if only I were home right now locked in my room awaiting father ... a familiar problem, and one I have always taken in stride...” Merri heaved a heavy sigh. “For all my wishing, I'm not home; I'm here."

  She turned away from the desperation Susan knew her cousin could see in her eyes. She knew it wasn't fair, but she looked to Merri for strength because she had little enough for herself.

  "After the morning meal, I will find a way to speak to the Mistress of the girls,” Merri informed Susan in quiet English, careful of eavesdroppers. “She might be able to help us, though with all the trouble we have been lately, I doubt her willingness to put herself out. It might be necessary to go to the Agasi or even the Sultan himself. I think I will consult Laihla on how best to approach this. If I can manage to strike a bargain with them over Seana, I tell you now,” she warned Susan strictly, “you must be willing to agree to anything they may require of us ... whatever it may be."

  BOOK TWO: MATING DANCE

  Their eyes lock long before their necks entwine

  Their mating ritual is a slow and stately dance

  Paramount to the lovers is the spiritual bonding

  Their bodies meet almost by chance...

  Chapter Twenty-one

  ...Do you recall the bit of town gossip I imparted in one of my earlier letters? I referred to the daughter of the late Earl of Fellhaven, Mrs. St. John-Smythe, who had disappeared along with her four children. Well, the eldest daughter, as well as the daughter of the present Earl, is still missing. However, the Earl has received a letter from Mrs. St. John-Smythe declaring that she holds her husband responsible in some manner for the disappearance of the two girls (they went missing at the same time). She writes that she intends to live separately from her husband from now until forever. That is just how she put it. She refuses to reveal where she is staying at present, as she is fearful of Mr. St. John-Smythe
discovering where she and the other children have hidden themselves away. On a more serious note, another war with that jumped-up little Colonel seems to be shaping up into a grim reality. They say he has escaped, or was turned loose, and is moving to re-consolidate his position. While war has not yet been officially declared, there seems to be no doubt in most minds that it will soon come down to a serious battle. I thought we were done with that unpleasant business, and I confess I am thankful you are out of it this time around. By the by, I had a curious visit last week from that false friend of yours, Robert Townesend. He came to ask if I had heard anything of your whereabouts—as if I would tell him. Then he asked for Jason, though I was unaware that he had ever met him. I was glad to be able to truthfully say Jason was away taking care of some estate matters for me. To think that I used to welcome that man in my house. I will never forgive him for what he did to you. On still another note, Jason has suggested that he be given the power to sign for you during your absence. He thought doing so would make it easier on me. He does not realize that I have always managed most of my own affairs. And while he has been such a God-send since your absence, I do not want to make a move like that without your okay. I do not know what I would do without him and Raeburn. However, never think they replace you in my affections. Nothing and no one could ever do that.—Mum

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The Sultan was furious. The harem was in an uproar. The Kislar Agasi had been ordered to the divan of the Sultan to be straightway questioned. His subsequent return to his apartments, a subdued and frightened man, had the harem gossips whispering that he had a threat of death hanging over him.

  Due to her incompetent handling of the English captives, ex-mistress of the girls had been stripped of all authority. To underscore the Sultan's displeasure, she had received a merciless sentence of fifty lashes. When the flogging was over, flashes of pale whitish bone gleamed through the ruined red mess of her quivering flesh. Presently, she lay secluded in the open quarters shared with the newly acquired odalisques while her servant nursed her, trying to bring down the fever that had resulted from the festering of her whip-scored back. If she survived the fever, the Sultan had decreed she become the body-slave of the lowliest eunuch.

  * * * *

  Meanwhile, the morning had not gone well for the two Englishwomen. Having awakened to find Seana missing, Merridyth and Susan had suffered a frightening, frantic time until they had, with the help of numerous servants, ran the missing girl to ground in a little-used garden area. Two eunuchs had finally located her in the public gardens attached to the quarters of the Black eunuchs, a place forbidden to the harem women. She had apparently been there since early morning, having innocently wandered out behind a careless eunuch, who had not believed any woman would be foolish enough to risk death by leaving the harem without permission.

  While in the garden, Seana must have managed to sample a number of interesting things residing in the grass and greenery that had caught her wayward attention. When Susan saw their friend, Seana had just finished stuffing a fat, wriggling worm into her mouth. Ignoring Susan's indelicate shout, or simply not hearing it, Seana bit down on the juicy slug, swallowed ... and promptly threw it back up. Judging by the assorted mess that spewed from her mouth along with the desiccated worm, she had ingested quite an impressive array of specimens.

  Susan went pale. Feeling ill at the thought of what else Seana might have eaten before they had caught up with her and disgusted with the careless manner of most eunuchs in general, Susan turned to the hapless men before her. “Look what your carelessness has caused. What if she gets sick and dies?"

  She continued to give them the sharp side of her tongue, haranguing them quite colorfully on the subject of the irresponsibility of guards not taking harmful things—like bugs, and who-knew-what-all—away from helpless women. She showed no sign of slowing down until Merri interjected the timely reminder that Seana required a thorough cleaning—and they had still other items on their morning's agenda.

  It took the two friends quite a while to get Seana cleaned up and into new raiment. Like a mindless infant, she never stopped her aimless, unfocused movements, which made her grooming a difficult chore. By the time they finished, the morning had advanced well towards early afternoon, and they still faced the chore of getting Seana fed; another task that required great deals of time and patience.

  "Why didn't we feed her before we changed her?” Susan ruefully wondered aloud, panting as she fought to get Seana's right arm into the sleeve of her second clean blouse for the day. “That way, we would have only had to do this once."

  Merridyth glanced up, pausing in her struggle to get both of Seana's legs into the corresponding legs of the sheer pantaloons. “You're right, Sue,” she agreed. “We shall have to remember that for the next time,” she said, huffing between breaths.

  "There. That's finished.” She sighed, moving over to assist Susan with the insertion of Seana's left arm into the tight-fitting sleeve. Done, she plopped down on a nearby bench. “My goodness, I'm exhausted. “I am constantly startled by the realization of how much energy it requires to clean and dress one smallish woman when that woman is totally uncooperative.” She picked up the hem of her long cloak and began to fan her exertion-heated cheeks.

  "If you would, Sue,” Merri began after resting a bit, “I need you to keep an eye on Seana while I go find Laihla. I have to talk with her. As we've just learned, we cannot leave Seana unattended. I, for one, do not want to have to go through another cleaning session today."

  "Nor do I.” Susan exclaimed while she buttoned Seana's blouse. “And of course I shall watch Seana. What do you plan to speak about with Laihla?” she asked, smoothing the riotous curls back from Seana's now clean forehead, confining the abundant, wine-red tresses at the nape with a bit of colorful ribbon.

  "I am hoping she will be able to tell me the best way to go about obtaining an interview with the Kislar Agasi,” Merri answered. “So far, she has proven to be a veritable fountain of useful information, and we need to know what they might be planning to do about Seana. I do not like living with the threat of her being taken away from us hanging over my head."

  Susan looked up from searching Seana's blank face. “No. It is untenable,” she agreed pensively. “Even with all the extra trouble, I would not give her up. I know she would have fought to keep me with her had the situation been reversed. Go to Laihla,” she said. “I will try to get Seana to lie down for a while. And when you meet with the Agasi, remember to ask if we might have a servant to assist with Seana's care,” Sue's mouth quirked in an ironic smile. “We might as well bargain for as much as possible if we must sell our souls."

  Reaching Laihla's private cubicle took longer than expected for Merridyth was stopped more than once by several of the harem women expressing sympathy over the tragic event of her friend's attempted suicide. All revealed curiosity and concern over how Susan and she were handling their grief.

  While Merri felt touched by the compassion these women showed, she couldn't help noticing they spoke of Seana as if she were already dead. Or at best, destined to remain as is: a broken, empty shell. Also, each time Seana was mentioned by name, the women made a furtive, half-hidden gesture with the fingers of their right hands. Merridyth knew they were making the sign that warded off the evil eye.

  She shook her head in wonder that such suspicious nonsense still flourished in the modern year of 1801. Yet, upon further reflection, she had never realized there were places like this Seraglio where men held women as virtual slaves, to be educated only in bringing the utmost pleasure to a male. All things considered, she was inclined to excuse the harem women their superstitions, however unfounded.

  Having braved the lengthy gauntlet, Merridyth stood at last in front of Laihla's small room, poised to announce her presence. Before she could do so, she became aware of strange sounds coming from inside the curtained room.

  A low, ominous growling assaulted her ears along with the mewling whimpers
of a woman suffering either from pain ... or an overwhelming fear. Having heard those same sounds coming from her own mouth a time or two, Merri was convinced her new friend was being attacked. Gathering her courage and resolve, Merri did what she had always prayed her mother would do for her. On a swell of indignation, determined to protect Laihla—even if it meant attacking the attacker himself—she burst into the room, and skidded to an appalled stop.

  Laihla was lying on the raised mat, eyes squeezed tightly shut. Her lips were pulled back in a fierce grimace while her fisted hands were lost in the pale blond hair of a squarely-built man. Her slim, coffee colored legs were splayed wide kicking at the air, and all the while, the pitiful sounds of an injured animal were spilling from her lips.

  The man was ... a man. His hairless body was scantily covered with a pair of sagging, cotton pants, the closure gaping open to reveal a thick, bulging erection, red, ropy veins running along its length, topped by a bulbous head swollen to enormous proportions. The thing seemed to have a life of its own. Under Merri's horrified, fascinated gaze, it jerked and pulsed with the man's every movement.

  His pale, stocky body, a sharp contrast to Laihla's creamy chocolate skin, was wedged between the Black woman's thighs, his hands a tight manacle about each well-turned ankle, forcing her legs up and apart. And as a stunned Merri watched, one of his hands moved up to clench upon a vulnerable breast. Merri saw the soft brown flesh indented where his fingers dug in for a handhold.

  The man was still unaware that his privacy had been breached. His face was buried deep in the V of Laihla's spread thighs, moving voraciously from side to side. He was the one making the growling, grunting sounds Merri had heard from outside the room, and she was suddenly light-headed with horror as she realized the man was savaging Laihla's private parts with his mouth. Righteous anger galvanized her into frenzied action.

  "Get off of her, you animal!.” Merri shouted, launching herself onto the back of the startled man, who threw her off in a reflex of frightened disbelief, only to find himself the object of a flurry of blows delivered by a fire-breathing female with death in her eyes.