The Pirates of Moonlit Bay

by Samaire Provost

  Between stumbling and falling on the hard-packed dirt when the guards shoved us, and trying to avoid the kicks and spits of the people we passed, we were quickly covered in dust and dirt. The heels of my hands bled from falling and catching myself, and I saw Kym’s and Caroline’s were the same.

  By the time we got to the sheikh’s tent, we were exhausted.

  The guards positioned us in front of the grand poobah himself, and I finally got to see him in his natural setting.

  The sheikh looked to be about the age of my grandfather, perhaps fifty years old. He sported a short white beard with brown stripes on either side, and the beard came to a waxed point in front of his chin. His robes were white and purple, his sandals were an oiled dark brown leather. His face, hands and feet were a dark cocoa, and his bejeweled fingers were curled around the ends of the arms of his throne. Henna had been swirled on his forehead in the shape of a diamond.

  The throne itself was wood, and the back and arms were carved into swirls and feathers. A banner hung behind the large chair, white with small lines of gold and purple woven vertically down the middle.

  Purple silky fabrics were woven around the poles supporting the tent, the sides of which boasted colorful stones and beads embedded in the fabric and arranged to form massive landscapes across the expansive sides. These depicted battles and triumphs, which I assumed illustrated events from the sheikh’s life.

  A peacock strolled across the room near the sheikh, who rested his hand on the shoulder of a boy kneeling next to the ornately carved throne. The boy was dressed in rich, brightly colored silk fabrics. On his feet, he wore golden sandals. His eyes were downcast, and his face looked resigned. I realize with a start that it was Akim.

  Red hot anger surged into me, and I felt my cheeks flame.

  I spat to the side of me and approached the throne.

  “You will release us immediately,” I demanded.

  The sheikh looked at me, a bemused expression on his face, then burst out laughing. Turning, he whispered rapidly to the man standing next to the throne. The man nodded and left, and the sheikh turned back to me.

  “And why should I do that?” he said, a smile curving the corner of his mouth. “You have caused me great inconvenience, you stupid girl.”

  “I happen to be a royal princess from the northlands.” I lifted my chin higher. “I was visiting Prince Phillippe with my mother, the queen, when I was kidnapped.” I took a deep breath to calm down. “As one regent to another, I ask for aid from you. Your culture dictates that you honour all requests from foreign dignitaries and afford me shelter and assistance.” I took a deep breath and waited.

  The sheikh stared at me for a long minute and then threw his head back and laughed again.

  “That you would try to use my own culture against me is a joke.” He sneered. “You are a slave, nothing else. You were purchased to serve me, and that shall be your life’s work, until you die or are sold again.” He studied me, then let out a pfft and waved his hand, dismissing me.

  We were led out by the sheikh’s guards, who again pushed us so roughly that we fell several times. I skinned my knee bloody in the dirt as I was separated from the others. Caroline looked stricken as she held Kym’s hand and they were led off to a separate area. Khepri was nowhere to be seen.

  I was tossed roughly into a sandstone box from above. The walls were only a few feet wide, but the top reached maybe fifteen feet high. I landed on the floor with new scrapes and bruises and watched the guards laugh as they dragged a heavy wooden lid over the top, blocking out all but a sliver of light. I heard a chain dragged into place and a lock click, sealing my fate. I was in solitary confinement.

  “Really?” I hollered. “This is how you treat royalty?”

  I shrieked and pounded the sides of this prison, but they did not budge. I climbed up to the top of the sandstone box and pounded on the wood. It rattled against the chain on the other side, but it was thick and solid, and I could not break it. I slid back down to the floor and kicked at the walls again, hurting my foot. Nothing budged. It was like being entombed in solid rock. Breathing hard, I stilled and considered my situation.

  No sounds reached me through the thick walls of the box. I could not even fully sit down; the best I could manage was to lean my back against the rear wall and prop my knees against the surface in front of me.

  After a few hours in this position, I began to ache with a vengeance. I held back tears and then took deep breaths to calm myself. Think, Charlotte.

  I wasn’t dead yet, and if death lay in store for me, I was going to go down fighting. In order to pass the time, I tried to concentrate on a solution to my predicament but it was no use. I felt despair creep forward.

  Tears slowly ran down my face, tickling me. I swiped at them impatiently, my hand coming away muddy.

  I was caught like a rat in a cage. Caught and trapped. I had no idea where Caroline and Kym had been taken. I had no idea if Khepri would still help us.

  The night was a bad one, with many tears and raging in that box. By the time the tiny crack above me turned to daylight, I was exhausted but still determined: I refused to give in to the despair trying to crack my mind. I had resolved to fight my circumstances with all my heart, to the very last of my strength.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Think Harder

  I spent a month in that stupid little box. They threw down moldy bread once a day and lowered a small container of water morning and night, and I tried to climb up to the top every day and pound on the wood covering. I was able to shimmy up to it at first, but as the weeks past, I became too weak to complete the journey.

  The floor of the box soon grew mucky with my toilet; although I tried to gather it on one side, there wasn’t more than standing space. My feet were soon standing in my own shit. After a week I began to pack the excrement on the walls of the box. They dried there in the heat, all the way up, as far as I could reach.

  The despair sank in, engulfing me, but never extinguishing the spark of hope deep within.

  Then, one day, something different happened.

  I was dozing, my face turned up toward the sliver of light that was my only friend, when I heard the lock open and the chain slide back. I had no energy to even care what was coming. I idly wondered if it was bread time or water time. But it was neither.

  As I watched with half-lidded eyes, a skinny guard was lowered by his feet into the box, and when he reached me, he grabbed my arm with both his hands. He called over his shoulder, and we were both lifted out.

  It hurt. My shoulder felt like it was being pulled out of its socket. I cried out weakly, a soft whimper issuing forth from my cracked lips, and I passed out.

  “Oh, Charlotte,” murmured a voice next to my face. I opened my eyes to see Khepri’s concerned face hovering over me.

  Oh, good, I thought, before passing out once more.

  I was delirious for a week, I was so dehydrated and weak I could barely move, and everything hurt. I don’t remember much about it, but every few hours or so, when I wasn’t sleeping, I would try to raise my head and Khepri would be there, settling me back down, bringing me water, murmuring soothing things before rearranging the blanket back over me from where it had landed when I had tossed and turned.

  It was a time of nightmares for me. I didn’t know which way was up. But Khepri nursed me back to health and helped me regain my strength, and for that I will always be grateful.

  One morning, when I was sitting up and sipping on some broth Khepri had left me, I heard a knock on the door, and she poked her head in.

  “I have a surprise for you, Charlotte.” She smiled as the door opened wider, and in walked Caroline.

  I gasped.

  It had been months since I had seen her, not since that first day in the sheikh’s tent. Caroline looked changed. She seemed taller, and I noticed she held her head higher. Her frame was larger, and as she came forward and embraced me, I felt more strength in her; her shoulders were more muscular,
her legs thick and hard, her arms taut and strong. She’d gained maybe twenty pounds, and it was all muscle. Caroline was buff.

  I looked into her eyes, speechless. She laughed and wiped tears away from her cheeks.

  “Oh, Miss, I was so worried! Khepri told me you were recovering, but I had to see it for myself.”

  I looked her up and down, squeezing her shoulders, which now felt like iron.

  “I’ve been building up so that we can rescue Christianne and escape.” More tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “After Kym saw the sheikh, she wanted to change her shape to impersonate him and order us all released! But I told her it was too dangerous. If they caught her, who knows what they would have done to her? And even if they didn’t, they’d figure it out soon enough. Once they knew of her ability, every slave trader in Alkebulan would have been on the hunt for such a rare treasure!”

  “You did the right thing,” I croaked.

  “I thought it would be better to escape the old-fashioned way.” Carrie grinned and flexed one of her biceps.

  I nodded, impressed.

  “It hasn’t hurt that the sheikh’s had her on hard labor duty since we arrived,” said Khepri. “Our Caroline has been digging ditches and building stone warehouses.”

  Caroline smiled again and hugged me tighter.

  “Well.” I tried to speak. I had spoken hardly a word since being put in that stupid box, and my voice was hoarse.

  I cleared my throat and tried again.

  “Carrie, you look strong,” I rasped.

  She nodded.

  “I’m going to bring some food for us; be back in a few minutes,” Khepri said before leaving the room.

  Caroline looked around. “I’m glad you’re out of that tiny prison cell, Miss.” She pulled a mirror out from her pocket and handed it to me, and I brought it up to my face.

  I gasped. I looked hollow eyed and sallow cheeked. I look sickly.

  She sat on a chair. “This is the room Khepri’s been healing you in?”

  I nodded.

  “I don’t know how long it’s been though,” I said.

  “Oh, it’s been a long time. Khepri said you looked like death when you came out of that cell,” Caroline said.

  I took a deep breath. “Worse than this?”

  “I imagine so, Miss.”

  I stared into the mirror, unable to tear my gaze from inspecting every square inch of my face.

  Caroline put her hand on my shoulder.

  “Miss?”

  I glanced up at her.

  “How do you feel?” Caroline asked.

  I took a deep breath and considered the question. I had slowly been regaining my strength while Khepri had been caring for me. I still felt weak as a kitten, but not nearly as bad as when I’d been pulled from that stupid box. I looked at Caroline, who had worked so hard to build her strength and muscle in preparation for escaping. She’d kept her hopes up and her eyes on the prize. I admired her so much.

  “Actually, Carrie,” I said with resolve. “I feel fine.” I smiled and stood up.

  There was a soft knock at the door and Khepri’s face appeared.

  “Hello.” The door opened farther, and she walked in with a bowl of fruit and a jug of wine. And she wasn’t alone. Following her through the door, carrying a platter of meat, was Kym.

  “Kym!” I exclaimed. I hugged her and she squeezed my waist hard, then looked up at me.

  “How are you doing, Charlotte?” she asked. “We’d heard all sorts of rumors.”

  We all filled our bellies with the good food Khepri and Kym had brought, and by the end of the meal I was smiling. It was like we were back on the edge of the oasis again.

  Khepri spoke up, “Charlotte, the sheikh was furious with the guards when you were brought up out of the box. He went into a frenzy and whipped them all.”

  Oh? I looked at Khepri, waiting. She continued.

  “He was yelling and telling them you’d better survive. You looked half dead, you were caked with filth and had a glazed look in your face,” Khepri said.

  I frowned and looked down, feeling thoughtful.

  “That’s the only reason you were given to me to nurse back to health.” Khepri looked at me with raised eyebrows. “I think the sheikh wanted you tortured but not killed. I get the idea you’re important to him.”

  “Well, I am a princess,” I said slowly.

  “No, I think it’s something else,” she continued. “He’s had royalty here before, and he’s killed them without a second thought. He doesn’t care about anyone’s status outside Alkebulan.” She stared at me for a moment. “No, he wanted you alive, and that’s saying something.”

  Hmmm, I thought. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing he wants me alive. Not sure what to make of it, but it’s good to be valuable, I guess. Especially when being held by a lunatic.”

  “He may be a lunatic, but he’s also a shrewd ruler. He is obsessed with amassing power,” said Khepri.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “He’s said to be hunting something, something of great power,” Khepri explained. “The compound to the north has been sending raiders here at night, invading his land and stealing livestock. The sheikh is said to be desperate for a weapon to use against the other sheikhs. He wants to assassinate them, take their lands. It’s an uneasy situation.”

  “We’ll have to keep that in mind and avoid the raiders, when we escape,” I said.

  “And we will escape, Miss,” said Caroline, a determined look on her face as she squeezed my hand. I knew I still had to get stronger if I was to help in our escape.

  My mind drifted as I chewed. We all sat thoughtfully for a few minutes, munching on dates and bread with spiced olive oil.

  After a while, my thoughts turned to Christianne, and I asked if anyone had seen her.

  “I think she’s being held in the harem tent,” said Khepri.

  “Oh, no!”

  Khepri reassured me, “The other girls have been protecting her. They’ve told the sheikh she hasn’t matured enough, so he’s left her alone. But I think he’s getting bolder. I worry he will harm her soon.”

  “We have to rescue her, right away,” said Caroline.

  Kym nodded.

  We were soon brainstorming ways to rescue Christianne, but I did not feel hopeful. All of our ideas seemed likely to fail. There were just too many guards, too many people living in the compound. The harem was always being watched. It was the sheikh’s most valuable collection of slaves. The man had an enormous contingent of guards patrolling the compound at all times, even through the night.

  This was going to be hard. In my heart, it felt impossible, but maybe that was just leftover despair creeping in. I’d been in a very bad way, I still needed to heal and grow more hopeful. All of us had to come up with a plan, a foolproof plan.

  We had to think harder.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Smitten

  For the next week, I focused on regaining strength and vitality. The month spent in the prison box nearly killed me, and it certainly deeply drained me. For weeks I found myself out of breath after just a short walk to get water. I had to take it slow at first and build up my strength.

  Khepri had told me the sheikh wanted me brought back to full health. She said she’d been present in the throne room when he had screamed at his son for allowing me to stay in the prison longer than the two days he’d ordered.

  I blinked at this. Two days. He’d ordered me there for two days. I’d been in that stupid little box for a month.

  Khepri had explained the sheikh’s oldest son was a sadist and as cruel as they came. I shivered and made a mental note of it.

  I was relieved the time in that box hadn’t killed me. Khepri said it had come close to it.

  I was very weak for a long time, but soon I felt good enough that I could explore a bit more. I was wandering toward the stables one late afternoon a few weeks after leaving the prison box when one of the sheikh’s maid
s caught up with me.

  “I’m to bring you to the sheikh. Please come with me,” she said.

  I did not know her name. She wore a yellow thawb and white sandals and padded back toward the sheikh’s personal quarters rapidly. I hurried after her, wondering what the grand poobah might want. I had nothing of value to offer, and I hoped he didn’t intend to add me to his infernal harem.

  “I want you to join my harem,” the sheikh said without preamble, as soon as I was in front of him.

  Oh, no.

  “Listen, sheikh. Can I call you Sheikh?” I asked.

  He nodded, a bored expression on his face.

  “Listen, I’m not really suited to a harem. I’m hard to live with, I really am. I argue with other women almost constantly. They usually end up hating me. I could end up being the downfall of any happiness in your harem.” I stopped to take a breath.

  “Oh, and I’m not yet matured. I haven’t started my development yet, I swear,” I added.

  At this he lowered his chin and gave me an up and down look.

  I thought for a minute. Guess that’s not very believable. Should’ve taken a different tack. Oh, well.

  “The healer who’s been attending you works mainly in the harem tent,” he drawled. “I thought you might be more comfortable there.”

  I looked at him.

  I had forgotten that.

  “Okay, I guess I can do this,” I said.

  “Your duties will be to amuse me whenever I ask, and to tend to the children of the household whenever the main mistresses need you,” he continued, already dismissing me.

  Okay. I shrugged.

  Walking back out toward the center thoroughfare, my mind wandered. I wondered what I would experience being part of the sheikh’s harem. My steps took me toward the stable and to a corral that held a black horse.