Rahab Bk. 01 Ch. 08: Will Again

I was excited.

I loved telling stories, and did so to the Sultan many evenings before he pursued his lustful desires with my fellow concubines. But there was something special about practising my art at a banquet. I suppose I loved the reaction from a wider group of people. There was a special pleasure in store, because that evening's event was for the English ambassador, and would be attended by my friend Will, who also loved to tell stories.

Jess dressed me carefully. My silk harem pants would never look sensual, in comparison to my fellow concubines, but combined with a transparent silk top, and with make-up applied, I at least looked like a woman, as opposed to a girl. Jess primped my hair and declared I looked like a 'little gem;' Calliope agreed. Svetlana insisted that I applied more eye-shadow. I enjoyed the fuss.

They patted me up and down, making sure, they said, that I looked presentable, but both Jess and Svetlana took the opportunity to tease me. The former said she thought that my pale nipples should have rouge applied, and to the amusement of Jess and Calliope, proceeded to apply it. My nipples were super-sensitive, and within seconds, they were standing to attention. I moaned.

Calliope smiled, touching my nose, and pronounced me 'adorable.' But Jess decided that it would be good if the lips of my sex were also rouged. Pulling down my harem pants, she proceeded to touch my thin lips, making them not only red, but swollen. With that, and what Svetlana was doing to my nipples, I began to grow excited.

'Please, please stop, you will ruin my make-up!'

Calliope smiled, and instructed them to stop; for now. But she added her own contribution. She handed a small egg-shaped object to Jess.

'It is an opal stone, and I think our little darling should have it inserted into her anus to remind her of us, don't you, ladies?'

I looked appalled, but clearly was going to have no choice in the matter.

Jess took delight in inserting it into my anus. I gasped. They smiled. Jess pulled my pants up, and they pronounced me ready. What I was really ready for would not, alas, be what I would get at the banquet.

Usually, women were not present at the State banquets, but as I was the Sultan's pet, and his story-teller, an exception would be made for me; I had enough of the vanity of a woman for that to please me greatly. I smiled at them. The eunuch came to get me, and I went with him to the great hall.

The Sultan lounged on a divan, with the earl of Oxford next to him. There were great mounds of food, and the men took what they wanted; it was rather like the Sultan with the harem.

The dancing girls and the musicians entertained the men whilst they ate. There was a festive, happy atmosphere. The Sultan was in high good humour.

The Earl, as the guest of honour, invited Master Will to tell the first tale.

Fortunately, Will and I had been allowed to eat together, so we could confer about our stories. Treated as a girl rather than a woman, I was dispensed from the strict rule of segregation practised at Court. Will, who seemed pleased to see me, told me he had thought further about making a play about the King of the Scots who had killed his predecessor, and told me he intended to tell the story to the assembled dignitaries. I went white. He asked why?

'That would bring misfortune, Will. This is the Court of the Ottomans, and the last seven Sultans have all come to the throne after killing others, it is not done to tell sad stories of the death of kings. Really, Will, it would not go down well, everyone would be polite, but they would think you uncouth.'

He looked at me.

'Thank you, Rahab. You have saved the embassy by your words. I will ensure that you are rewarded. I do have another tale, and I will tell that.'

So it was that when his time came, Will told an amusing tale of how the Queen of the Fairies fell in love with an ass on the eve of midsummer. It was full of sprites, and pixies, and elves, and such-like folk. There was much merriment and mischief, and all was rounded off with a fine story of love fulfilled and dancing. The interpreter kept up well, and the Sultan, who loved such stories, had Will presented with a bag of gold.

It was my turn.

I decided to be my own interpreter, telling the official one to stand down.

My tale was of a wise prince, who, deposed by a jealous brother, had sought refuge on a desert isle. There, with his beautiful daughter and a sprite who was aboriginal, he used his powers of magic to create a realm of fantasy. It was interrupted one day by a ship-wreck as the result of a great tempest, which delivered into his hands, relatives of his hated brother.

One of them fell in love with the daughter, who reciprocated. It was a tale of loss, love, vanity and magic, in which in the end, the prince/magician, whom I named Prospero, found redemption, while his daughter found lasting love. It went down well. I saw Will scribbling on the parchment he carried with him.

'I loved that tale about the tempest, Rahab, I think I could make a play out of it; would you mind?'

"Will, of course not. All stories are part of the one great story, and what matters to a tale is that it gets told. If you use it, I should be happy, and think my efforts tonight well rewarded.'

He smiled.

'Were it possible, I should kiss your sweet nose, but instead, there will be something of more use.'

As he spoke, a servant of the Earl presented me with a necklace of pure silver, which glittered in the light of the candles. It was beautiful, coming, Will said, from the far lands to the West which the Spanish had discovered. I did not like to ask how Spanish silver came to be in English hands, but I could imagine the reason.

I looked at my Lord. The great Padishah alone could decide what his slaves received, and, as etiquette demanded, I made to hand it to the Sultan. Smiling, he shook his head and indicated that I should wear it. Smiling back, I did so.

I asked Will to thank his Patron for the gift.

We talked for a while about stories, and then I moved the conversation onto how the mission was going.

Will, who loved to talk, told me that the Great Queen had proposed that the two Empires, England and Turkey, should combine to prevent the Spanish Empire from taking control of the great Middle Sea, and that it seemed as though the Sultan was inclined to the project.

I let him tell me about his part in it, how clever he had been, and how it had been his way of expressing the policy which had made the difference. So do men talk to women, even small ones. They like to be admired, and I am good at offering what they need in that respect, even if in no other.

I suggested to Will that it might not, alas, be as plain sailing as he was assuming.

He looked at me, quizzically.

'And what has my child got to do with such matters?'

I reassured him that my intent was to help him, saying it would be a shame if hidden reefs wrecked his ship of State. I explained that the Grand Vizier, who was in receipt of much silver from Spain, was in favour of an agreement with the Emperor of the Catholics to divide the Great Middle Sea between them, and its lands accordingly. Will looked troubled, as well he might have.

'But our Dragomen, those interpreters who are supposed to know about these things, have never mentioned it. Are you sure, Rahab?'

'I have it from a source closer to the centre of power than a Dragoman. The question for your Master, Will, is whether he can offer something attractive to the Sultan, as an incentive to go to that side of the argument?'

Will was quick.

'We could offer money to the right adviser, but who has the Sultan's ear?'

I shook my head.

'It is a good idea, but there is no one. But I do have an idea.'

Will looked at me, and grinned.

'Be bold, bloody and resolute, Rahab, and tell me your thoughts.'

He had such a way with words, although, as it happened, his words were well chosen. So, as the other ate their delicious fruits and sherbets, Will and I plotted.