"Arabian Nights"
Part 80
by Beryll
"What do you mean, he is gone?!"
The raw rage in Karl's voice made the two guards flinch back and some tiny part of Karl felt sorry for them. After all it wasn't their fault. They couldn't have had any way of knowing.
It had all taken too long; Karl hiding in his room until Orli managed to force him out of his shell, explaining to the Prince, waiting for the Prince to get dressed - even though that had been the quickest part about it. And now it was too late. He had missed his chance for revenge. It felt like everything was caving in on him. He had gathered all his courage - for nothing. Karl slumped against one of the corridors walls feeling weak and helpless.
Sean's voice seemed to come from far away as he took over questioning the guards. How could he stay so calm, Karl wondered, after all this was about him.
"When did he leave?"
"After his audience with the Caliph." one of the guards answered, worriedly glancing first at Karl, then at the Prince who was gripping his sword hilt tightly, looking like he was barely able to control his own rage. "That was about two hours ago."
"Do we know where he went? Is there a chance that he will still be in the city?"
Sean's question gave Karl another brief moment of hope. How could he have overlooked this possibility? His hopes were squashed immediately though.
"He was leaving the city, returning to his Lord. By now he will be well on his way."
Karl's despair was mirrored be the Prince. "DAMN!" The Prince's fist slammed into one of the walls, frustrating and rage winning out over his self control. He looked like he was ready to strangle the guards and they took a cautious step backwards.
"His Lord? Who is this Master Voosloo serving?" Now there was a slight tremble in Sean's voice as well but somehow he managed to keep a level head still.
"Lord Walken. He is a distant cousin of the Caliph. He holds a small keep in the desert, guarding caravan routes from the nomad tribes."
Struggling against the despair in his heart Karl closed his eyes, trying to block out all the foul memories rising. He had to clear his mind, had to think straight. How had his father come into the service of this Lord? He had always been an independent man, taking orders from nobody. And why would such a Lord take in a lowly slave trader and send him out as a dignitary?
'Oh, and you are so much better than him? The son of a lowly slave trader?' a spiteful voice asked in his head. Karl drew himself up. He had come far and he had worked hard for the status he had gained. He was not his father.
There had to be a very good reason why his father had accepted a master.
"Thank you, you may get back to your duties." Sean released the guards from further questioning.
Something Karl should have done. He felt deep gratitude for Sean covering up for his weakness. Even though he was probably not doing it in kindness. Forgiveness from Sean or the Prince was too much to hope for. His sentence had just been suspended by their hurry to find his father.
"We can follow them." the Prince growled, his anger on a tight leash that was close to snapping. "If we ride fast we can still catch up on them."
"No." Sean's answer came quiet, a clear order. "We are not prepared to face them, he will have guards and we can not take ours, we can't just murder a servant of a relative of the Caliph. And I still clearly remember what happened the last time we entered A Nafud unprepared."
Sean's eyes met the storm in the Prince's grey eyes calmly. Karl watched as the bristling fury in the Prince subsided slowly, as he nervously fidgeted with his sword hilt and finally looked away.
"You are right." the Prince admitted, though he didn't sound happy about it at all.
It just now dawned on Karl how much Sean had changed - healed - since he had last spent time with him. Karl tried to feel happiness about it but it just wouldn't come. He would never be allowed to get to know this much stronger Sean. He would never be allowed to lean on Sean in his weakness. He didn't deserve it. He really didn't even deserve to be in his presence.
"My Lord," he addressed the Prince, lowering himself to one knee again, his eyes fixed to the floor, "I have failed you again, I should have gotten news of my father's presence here in the palace to you sooner. I should have never even stayed quiet on it. I will accept my punishment now."
The silence seemed to stretch forever.
When the Prince finally spoke he had much calmed and what he said wasn't at all what Karl had expected. "It is not my place to punish or forgive what you have done. Only the one wronged can decide what your fate should be. You must apologize to Jared and ask him for a verdict."
Face Jared? The mere thought made Karl dizzy. Did the Prince know that probably this was the worst kind of punishment he could have picked? But of course he was right. Honor demanded he faced his victim and his crime.
"As you command, my Lord." He accepted his orders.
---
It had been s strange day so far. Everything had started quite as usual with the Prince entertaining various guests of the Caliph and the kittens serving them refreshments, sometimes with Dominic sitting in a corner playing his flute.
But when they had just been ready to retire for the midday break things had started to go awry. First Lij had snapped at the foreigner Eric, then the Captain of the Caliph's guard had shown up, scaring Jared to the bone, if just for a moment.
He knew that he was well protected with both Sean and the Prince present. He even knew that he would not let it happen again, that he would fight back, was expected to fight back. Still the initial shock had been there. But the Captain had been banned from the Prince's quarters faster then Jared had been able to recover.
And then Orli had started asking questions. Jared hadn't even known that Sean and the Prince hadn't told the other kittens. Orli had been furious. He loved the Captain, Jared had quickly realized, in the unique way Orli was capable of loving almost everyone. It was like Orli was talking about a completely different person than the man who had so brutally used Jared and then discarded him.
Of course it had been impossible for the Prince to deny Orli going after the Captain.
Even though it seemed to give the Prince a headache as monumental as the ones had had been suffering from when he had been ill. During his midday bath the Prince had been silent and brooding and Jared had been quite sure he had been close to snapping at Jared for nothing repeatedly. But as always the Prince had remained unfailingly kind, reminding Jared yet again why he served him so gladly.
When the Prince had left to talk with Sean, Jared had busied himself with putting order back into the bathing room.
He had heard when Orli had returned and by the sound of booted footsteps he had guessed that the kitten had brought the Captain as well. Jared had barely had time to wonder what the Prince would do now when Orli had stomped past the curtained off bathing room, obviously in an extremely foul mood. He had kicked the bedpost hard, then collapsed onto the bed face first and stayed there unmoving.
Jared had briefly considered going over to him to enquire how his talk with the Captain had gone and if he was all right of course. But then he had decided against it. He didn't really want to know.
A few minutes later the Prince had stormed in, grabbing his clothes, completely ignoring Jared's attempts at helping him to get dressed. Through the curtain Jared had glimpsed the Captain and Sean waiting in the yard, both wearing grim expressions, their hands gripping sword hilts tightly. Again Jared had not asked when the Prince had collected his own sword from the training room and left with the other two warriors. Whatever they were up to - it was much safer not to know.
Midday break would still last for at least another hour. The next guest on the Prince's schedule would arrive a little later but everything was already prepared for that. Dominic and Billy were both napping in the kitten's room and Lij was not back from wherever he had run off to. Jared was pretty sure the foreigner Eric had gone after Lij so he was not overly worried.
It was not often that he got some quiet time to himself so Jared had settled in his favourite spot: a window overlooking the southern part of the city in the Prince's study. The sill was comfortably wide a cosy sitting place with the huge red velvet cushion Jared had brought with him. A soft breeze was blowing in from the harbour, carrying the scent of salt and spices and sun baked stone and the faint sound of ships scrapping against docks. Even the harbour was mostly deserted in the midday heat and so human sounds were nearly absent. The streets of Aqaba below Jared lay quiet, the many brilliantly coloured shade-clothes contrasting with the white stone roofs, dotted with the occasional palm tree. It was all quite beautiful. Especially from afar.
Laying his head against the cool window frame Jared had rested, dozing off.
The voice of his Lord had woken him up again: "Jared? Where are you?" There were a lot of conflicting emotions in the Prince's voice, most of which Jared could not identify. Anger he could make out clearly, but hopefully not directed at him.
"Yes, my lord?" he quickly answered, rubbing sleep from his eyes, then slipping from his seat and straightening his clothing.
Moments later the Prince stepped through the curtain. His eyes were so stormy they seemed dark grey, Jared noticed, but for Jared the Prince seemed to have only worry and the put on what he probably hoped was a reassuring smile but more looked like a feral grin.
"There is someone who wants to talk to you." He said, holding open the beaded curtain.
Jared flinched when the Captain of the Caliph's guard stepped through but then quickly squared his shoulders. He could do this!
He was surprised when the Captain glanced at him only for a moment and then lowered his gaze in what could only be called deference.
Silence seemed to stretch into eternity.
"Well?" the Prince then prodded the Captain none too kindly.
Jared almost felt sympathy as the Captain flinched. This so much was not the man he remembered using him so harshly. This more looked like a scared boy, held by the neck by a stern father.
The Captain glanced at the Prince. "Can I talk to him alone? Please, my lord?"
The Prince opened his mouth, to object, Jared was quite sure. But before he could actually do so, Jared heard himself speak up: "It's all right, my lord. I will be safe."
Now where had that come from? Jared wasn't quite sure but there was something in the Captain's stance… something that touched Jared in unexpected ways. He knew it was ridiculous really but he felt sorry for the man. Of course the Captain had used him - raped him - whatever the Prince and Sean wanted to call it. But it had been a wake-up call for Jared. It had made him realize really that he was not a whore as long as he didn't allow himself to feel like one.
For the first time Jared consciously thought back to those minutes in the Captain's quarter. To the spite and hatred in his voice when he had taken him. That had not been a man using a whore, that had been something else, whatever had possessed the Captain that day, it was entirely missing now. And now that he thought abut it, there were odd things he had not noticed because he had so quickly buried all memories of the incident. How the Captain had withdrawn from him as if burned, the small sound of anguish that Jared now realized had not come from him but from the Captain. Even then he had regretted his deed. What must he feel like now, after being giving plenty of time to feel terrible?
Suddenly Jared was quite sure that the Captain would never hurt him again.
He smiled at the Prince reassuringly. For a moment the Prince looked like he would balk but then he relented, turning on his heel and stalking out. He was obviously not happy and oddly reminded Jared of Orli.
Curiously Jared returned his attention to the Captain. The man was nervously fidgeting, clearly at a loss of how to say what he wanted to say. But Jared was quite willing to give him all the time he needed.
"I…" he finally began, just to stop immediately to run his hands through his braids, tugging on them unhappily. "Allah… I know this is not enough… but there is nothing else I can give you… I'm sorry for what I have done to you. So very sorry. I wish I could take it all back, I wish there was some way for me to make it all right again but there is not. I…" he stopped a moment but then just rushed on, "the Prince says it is up to you to pick my punishment and whatever you chose I will submit. Whatever you chose, I deserve it."
The anguish in his voice was so overwhelming that Jared just couldn't help himself. With a few quick steps he was beside the Captain, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder.
The man looked up in surprise, his amber eyes filled with soul-tearing pain. For a moment they looked at each other - whore and warrior - and Jared could see that the Captain was fighting tears.
"I'm sorry." He repeated brokenly.
And Jared smiled. "It may not be enough for you but it seems to be enough for me." He answered softly. "I don't know if you will forgive yourself but I am willing to forgive."
The Captain stared at him numbly, obviously unable to believe his own ears. It brought a few things to Jared's attention that he had previously completely overlooked. Like what a good looking man the Captain actually was. And that at the moment he was completely at Jared's mercy. An evil glint entered the young slave's eyes.
"But as you seem to believe that some sort of punishment would be fair I will give you one. You owe me, Captain. You owe me a night in which I may do to you whatever I please."
Now the Captain gapped at him open-mouthed, making Jared's smile turn into a self-confident grin.
"But not tonight," he declared airily, "you are not in shape."
And with that he brushed past the stunned man and left him standing there, feeling so elated he wasn't quite sure his feet were still touching the ground.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Beryll
go to PART 81