Bertrice Small - Zuleika and the Barbarian

"Is his face a handsome one?" Bahira wondered.

"Yes, but not like Haroun. Haroun is almost pretty, but Amir Khan's face is strong and masculine. His eyes are dark, and his nose very straight, and his mouth big like the rest of him. When he speaks, his voice is both deep and rough. I find him exciting."

"Did you see his general, Sabola?" Bahira queried.

"Nay, I did not, but I have yet to see an ugly barbarian," Zuleika noted. "As I walked to and from the city I saw their guards sleeping, and their features were very pleasing to my eye."

Rafa returned with more information regarding the impending visit of Amir Khan. The barbarian would arrive with his general. Here Zuleika and Bahira exchanged a look that Rafa did not miss, but she continued on. They would come with but a dozen of their men. The gates to the city, however, were to remain open while the khan was within its walls.

"And my father agreed?" Zuleika was surprised.

"Prince Haroun convinced the sultan that the khan may be the enemy, but he is, like the sultan, a man of honor," Rafa said.

"And where, I wonder, did he get that idea?" Zuleika remarked. "What hour is he to arrive?"

"Three hours past the noon hour, my princess," Rafa responded.

"Good," Zuleika said. "Then there is time for us to prepare ourselves, for Bahira is coming with me, Rafa. She will wear the emerald green robes, for the color flatters her. I shall have the robes that match my eyes. Royal purple brings out the softness in my skin tones." She unwound the toweling from her hair, and a slave girl hurried up to brush the princess's tresses dry.

"Such foolish vanity!" Rafa snorted, but she began to fetch all that would be required so she might dress her princess and the vizier's lovely daughter. The two gowns were carefully laid out, along with matching slippers, jewelry, and headdresses. The two girls lay down to rest upon a wide sofa, cuddling companionably in each other's arms. When they awoke, slave women brought them fresh apricots, green grapes, and purple plums to eat. When they had finished, silver basins of warm scented water were brought so they might refresh their hands, faces and mouths.

Their hair was dressed by the slave women. Zuleika instructed them to weave her long black hair with tiny strands of pearls. Bahira's auburn tresses were pulled into a single horse's tail with slim braids on either side of her face. Their hair done, the two girls were dressed. Their gowns were simple in design, but extremely elegant. They wore nothing beneath. Each had a low open neckline. Zuleika's was a teardrop, and Bahira's was square. The gowns fit snugly beneath their breasts, and were designed with bejeweled bands set into the rich cloth beneath their bosoms. The broad sleeves had cuffs to match. Bahira sparkled with emeralds, diamonds, and pearls. Zuleika glittered with amethysts, diamonds, and pearls. Their nubile bodies were visible beneath the sheer fine silk of the garments.

A slave girl entered the princess's apartments, and hurrying up to Rafa whispered something in her ear. Rafa nodded, then she turned to Zuleika. "The barbarian is entering the city with his escort," she told her mistress.

Zuleika nodded, and said to Bahira, "We must hurry to the audience chamber so that if Haroun objects there is time to convince my father that our presence is necessary," she said.

Bahira bobbed her head in agreement. "I can't wait to see the look on Haroun's face," she giggled.

Together the two girls hurried through the sultan's palace, finally arriving at the great audience chamber. It was a large room with a domed ceiling decorated in sheets of beaten gold, as were the walls. The marble pillars in the chamber were smooth dark crimson. A floor of the same material was flecked with gold. It was the audience chamber of a powerful man. Ibrahim Sultan was already seated upon his throne, a high-backed bench of pure gold studded with multi-colored jewels and a striped satin cushion beneath him. It was set upon a black marble dais with two steps. Next to it on the right was a three-legged silver stool topped with a white velvet cushion fringed with gold.

The elderly sultan was garbed all in white and gold, an aigrette with a large diamond sprouting forth from his cloth-of-gold turban. To his left stood Prince Haroun, garbed all in black, but for a cloth-of-silver turban decorated with a pigeon's-blood ruby. Zuleika quickly seated herself upon the stool, and a slave set a red silk cushion down for Bahira next to the stool, and slightly behind it.

"You should not be here!" Haroun said sharply.

"Why not?" Zuleika demanded to know. "You would give me to this barbarian as his concubine. Should he not at least see what you offer him before he decides whether to accept, or reject it?"

"Why is Bahira here?" was Haroun's next question, his eyes openly admiring the vizier's daughter.

"Do you expect me, the princess of Dariyabar, to sit in the royal audience chamber unattended?"

"Would not a slave girl do?" Haroun asked.

"Bahira is my friend, and as curious as I am about these barbarians, and no, a slave girl would not suit me! How dare you even suggest such a thing! I am the princess of Dariyabar, and the vizier's daughter should attend me. Is that not right, father?" Zuleika turned her face up to her father's and smiled.

The sultan's eyes twinkled. He stroked his silvery beard thoughtfully, and then he said, "Yes, my daughter, you are absolutely correct. I permit you and Bahira to remain."

"Thank you, father," Zuleika said in a soft voice, but her eyes mocked her cousin, Haroun.

"Thank you, my lord," Bahira added, her eyes modestly lowered.

Haroun smiled, pleased by Bahira's response. Then he licked his lips, anticipating the pleasure the vizier's daughter would give him when he took the beautiful girl to wife.

The trumpets sounded outside the great doors to the sultan's audience chamber. The portals were flung wide to admit Amir Khan and General Sabola, along with their escort. They marched directly to the foot of the sultan's throne, and then the khan saluted the elderly ruler, his right arm, fist clenched, striking his broad chest in respectful salutation.

"Greetings, Sultan Ibrahim. I am Amir Khan, and he who accompanies me is my general, Sabola. We thank you for your invitation. Perhaps we can now settle this matter between us peacefully."

"There can be no peace between us as long as you continue to besiege our city," Prince Haroun said quickly, rudely usurping both the sultan and his grand vizier, Abd al Hakim, before either might speak. "You will never take Dariyabar, Amir Khan! No one has ever captured this city in a siege. We are at an impasse. But we respect you, Amir Khan, and so that you may withdraw without shame, we offer you our own princess Zuleika as your concubine. She is, as you can see, a beautiful young woman, and she is a virgin, though well trained in the amatory arts as are all the young women of Dariyabar." Haroun's dark eyes swept the barbarian lord. A handsome, if rough-looking fellow he thought. His cousin could certainly not complain.

Zuleika waited eagerly for what was to come. Amir Khan looked impressive in his tight black leather breeches. He wore a wide jeweled belt about his supple waist. The buckle was fashioned of engraved ivory banded in silver. His massive chest was oiled but bare.

" He's magnificent ," Bahira murmured so that only Zuleika heard.

" So is his companion ," the princess breathed softly, her violet eyes inspecting Sabola as discreetly as she dared. " His polished metal breastplate adds a nice military touch, don't you think ?"

" He is built like a bull ," Bahira whispered.

"I will accept the sultan's gift, but only on one condition," Amir Khan replied to Prince Haroun.