"Shiek" - читать интересную книгу автора (Connie Mason)

Haroun didn't think it at all amusing. "Why would you want such an ill-tempered woman when you have Leila, Saha and Amar, docile jewels all, waiting to give you pleasure?"

"I wish I knew," Jamal muttered beneath his breath, but it was loud enough for Haroun to hear and wonder. "I suppose I couldn't bear to see her beautiful head separated from her body. Zara had the audacity to offend the sultan. I talked him out of beheading her. Then he threatened to give her to Abdul, his blacksmith. I may yet live to regret my rashness, but I asked Ishmail to give her to me instead."

"I had no idea you wished to enlarge your harem. Shall I take Zara to the women's quarters?"

"I am Princess Zara," Zara corrected in a haughty tone. If Jamal intended to break her spirit, he was wasting his time.

"No longer a princess but a lowly slave," Jamal pointed out. "Ranking below all my other slaves." He turned to Haroun. "Zara is to work in the stables. Tell Ahmed she is to rake dung from the stalls."

Haroun appeared puzzled by Jamal's words. Women as beautiful as Zara did not rake dung. They served their masters in bed, giving and receiving pleasure. "Are you sure, my lord? Perhaps she would better serve you in your bed."

"'Tis the sultan's wish that Zara be taught humility and obedience. He insisted that she be punished for insulting him. She spat at him. Had I not promised to obey his wishes in the matter, Zara would have become Abdul's slave. He would have killed her the first time she insulted him. I convinced Ishmail that Zara should live, that his cause would be better served if she was held as a hostage to insure her father's compliance."

"I would have preferred death," Zara loudly proclaimed.

"You will do as you're told," Jamal warned ominously. He turned to Haroun and shrugged. "See what I mean? She is incorrigible. She is to remain in the stables, working alongside the other slaves until she learns obedience. Instruct the guards that she is not to be allowed outside the palace walls."

"I understand, my lord. Come along, wench. Ahmed will be glad for the extra pair of hands. Jamal's stables are vast, surpassed only by the sultan's."

As he watched Zara walk off with Haroun, Jamal decided that Zara would be his stable's finest addition to date. The green-eyed, fair-haired Berber vixen was more difficult than his feistiest mare... and infinitely more enticing.

Head held high, Zara accompanied Haroun to the stables, determined to survive the meanest task without complaint. But despite Jamal and the sultan, she would never become a docile slave. She was a Berber warrior, too proud to be tamed.

Haroun placed Zara into Ahmed's keeping with little ado, saying only that it was Sheik Jamal's wish that the woman work in the stables alongside the other slaves, and that she was to be given no special treatment. Within minutes of Haroun's departure a rake was placed in Zara's hands and she was shoved into a stall that was ankle deep in dung.

Four slaves worked in the stables. Zara met them when they gathered around a small brazier to cook their evening meal. Rice, meat and vegetables were provided by Jamal's kitchens, along with tea leaves and fruit. The evening meal was simple but ample, and Zara was pleased to note that Jamal didn't starve his slaves.

Jamal had purchased Ahmed, Nails, Mustafa and Abdullah in slave markets in various cities. All were young and randy. From the moment Zara appeared, there began a rivalry among them that Jamal had never anticipated.



Jamal took his evening meal alone, brooding over the events that had brought Zara into his life. He had yet to greet his own women and yet he could not get Zara out of his mind. He had deliberately avoided the stables today. He didn't like casting Zara in the role of stable slave, but she had brought it on herself. He was determined to break her spirit, and softening toward her wasn't the way to go about it.

Jamal was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't hear Hammet, the head eunuch in charge of his household, sidle up beside him.

"May I have a word with you, my lord?"

Startled, Jamal's head shot up. Dressed in a wide-sleeved brocade robe edged in silver thread, Hammet was middle-aged, short and plump, with a kind disposition. Jamal depended on Hammet to keep his house in order and his women in line.

"What is it, Hammet? Is there a problem?"

"Your women sent me to tell you they are lonely, my lord. They eagerly await a visit from you. They beg most humbly that you attend them tonight."

Jamal's brow quirked upward. "Shall I pleasure all three at once, Hammet?"

"That is their wish, my lord. They promise you a night of a thousand delights."

Jamal had frolicked with all three women at once before, but for some reason the idea didn't hold the same appeal as it once did. Perhaps he was getting old.