Katharine slept little that night. She didn’t know why she taunted him. Maybe she did enjoy teasing him or maybe she didn’t know any other way to act. Surely this was it. She couldn’t not fight him and so she knew no matter what she would fight him until he claimed what he would and then she would hate him. But rather that – than willingly submit to him.
She hated this place and the women and the goings on in the Harem but she at least had multitudes of female companions and Bashasha for all her strange foreign ways was a kind and motherly woman. Now she would be sent to him every morning, noon and night and be his for the taking. She would be in contact with him most of the day and she cringed. She had thought about running away but she was a foreigner in this land. And with her hair and eyes there was no way to hide. The Sheik would find her and bring her back. And once she had run away and been brought back – she would be made to submit to his will if for no other reason than his pride amongst the tribe and his people.
At least for now she was somewhat safe. Yasmeen, the wife, continued to ignore her for the most part and for that she was always grateful. But once the beautiful sulky bride learned of her new duties she would surely begin to suffer abuse.
As for the rest of the women, none of them really gave the blonde much notice. Gameela was content because she knew that she was still the Sheik’s favorite and cared for little else.
The other women were more or less concerned for their own safety and as long as the harem remained – they were fine. They were fed well and lived better than most women of Arabia.
Abdullah sighed as he watched the Sheik absorbed in his work. They had finished another court amongst the lower people and Mohammed had settled many problems today. But he was far away in thoughts and Abdullah knew exactly where he was. Abdullah kept one of the harem girls well stocked with opium and she in turn spied for him. She had informed him that the Sheik was almost obsessed with “the white one from the far away land” and it didn’t bode well.
Abdullah loved and respected his Sheik and good friend and didn’t want anything to happen to him or his way of life. He thought about selling the witch to another Sheik but that had been tried and failed.
He worried constantly for Mohammed and prayed to Allah to bring him a son from the little minx Yasmeen. But Yasmeen had only birthed two daughters. In truth, Yasmeen was probably only good for bed sport, not queenly duties and certainly not the mother of the next Sheik. Mohammed must marry again. But how to broach such a subject?
“Abdullah. You are my most trusted friend and adviser.” His dark eyes drifted over to the middle aged man in robes.
“I am. And long may you reign well upon this Earth, praise be to Allah.” He bowed slightly.
“Thank you, my friend.”
Abdullah nodded.
“I must speak with you upon a matter of great delicacy but much importance.”
Abdullah nodded again but moved closer to the man in order that he would see his full attention upon him.
“I think the time has come for a second wife.”
Abdullah began to speak but Mohammed stopped him.
“Yasmeen has been a dutiful wife. I have no complaints. She has been everything a man could hope for in giving herself to me while remaining modest in all other respects. But she has birthed me only two daughters and I cannot accept this. I will keep her as the first wife, but must take a second. Once a young woman has been accepted, I am certain a son will be born.”
“Praise be to Allah.” Abdullah bowed in respect.
“I have decided upon my second wife.”
Abdullah waited wondering if perhaps it might be the lovely young princess Amira in the next village who would come of age shortly.
“I want the young English girl from the Harem. I will accept no one else.”
Abdullah watched his friend’s eyes and knew he was serious. Oh no. No one would accept a white girl with skin the color of goat’s curdled milk and from the land of Infidels for their Queen. No one.
Kat walked into the bath slowly. It was a large rectangular shaped bath with three steps down into it. There was a seat in the bath that ran the entire length of it. At its deepest the small pool was 3 feet.
Mohammed demanded that scents of Egyptian Musk, Patchouli and Sandalwood be left burning always in the Bath. Candles and all lights were lit low and intimate.
The water pooled around her legs and then between her legs and then up to her waist. She waited for him. Her first day of duties.
He arrived shortly after. As he made his way to remove his robe Kat quickly averted her eyes. He smiled at this. He stepped into the warm water and sighed quietly. Once he was seated and she was standing 3 feet down – they were the same height.
“What do you want me to do?” Kat asked softly.
