Click!
The white rook dropped into position.
"Checkmate in three. And husband, that opening gambit was pathetic!"
Mahmood Al-Bezier, Director of the Royal Secret Service, cringed under his senior wife's scorn. It was annoying enough that she regularly beat him at chess (and was the only person in the kingdom who could) but to have done so almost contemptuously this evening was the crowning ignominy to an exhausting day.
"And don't think we didn't notice that you simply toyed with dinner tonight, our husband," Nadira, the second wife was starting up on her favorite complaint, "What you ate this meal would not keep the smallest bird alive!"
Mahmood sagged. "I'm tired. With the sultan away on campaign, having to arrange his daughter's escape and to cover up the 'accidental' death of the Prussian First Secretary on top of my usual duties—this day has left me drained. I'm not the young warrior I once was, after all."
Zaafira, his senior wife, sniffed. "Not to mention that you hardly slept. You kept me awake half the night with your tossing and turning."
That Mahmood Al-Bezier actually slept with his wives in turn instead of simply summoning them when he wanted them would have come as a great surprise to those who knew him only as the most feared man in Azerbaidistan. If you had suggested such a thing to any of his subordinates or that he was a fond and indulgent father you would have been dismissed out of hand as a complete idiot. The Al-Bezier? Loving and kindly? And who put hashish in your hookah, this day? But Mahmood had not always been rich and powerful and still kept to many of the habits of his youth.
"It is the curse of genius," Hediya, the youngest wife nodded knowingly and crossed her arms over her very pregnant belly. "Our husband spends too much time worrying about the welfare of the realm and not enough time enjoying life."
"Up, our husband!" Zaafira had the command voice of a regimental sergeant major, "It's off to the
hamam
for a good bath and I shall send word to Ibrahim that he is to give you his very best massage. Go!"
"And
I
," Nadira muttered under her breath with a leer, "will make very sure that he sleeps well."
"Shall I help? You know how much for fun it is when there are three of us in your bed."
"Not this night, Hediya our little pomegranate. He is tired enough as is. Trying to play with two at once will be quite beyond him, I fear. Once the sultan is back our husband can relax. Then you and I will entertain him together."
"And each other, of course."
"Of course!"
*****
His bath over and feeling much more relaxed and at ease, Mahmood entered the darkened chamber of his second wife's quarters. There was a single lamp lit near the bed and it threw flickering shadows in the slight draft. The light cast a warm glow over Nadira's naked body, lying on one side facing him.
"Ah, husband, are you feeling better?"
"I am, pearl among women, but I think that tonight sleep is in order."
"I know, Mahmood, and that's what I'm going to ensure. Come, lie next to me. You need not move; I will take care of you."
As he complied, Nadira rose to her knees and sat back on her heels. As the man disrobed and lie on the couch next to her knees the woman took a flask of scented oil and poured a drop or two into her palm. Rubbing her hands together, she warmed it and then began to stroke his soft member, paying particular attention to the underside of the helmet. Despite his exhaustion, the Director quickly responded to his wife's ministrations growing long and firm. Nadira smiled to herself. She would bring him to climax, clean him up and then curl up around him. Tonight he would sleep soundly. Tomorrow, let the enemies of Azerbaidistan beware!
*****
The following morning a much rested and revitalized Director received the morning briefing from his second-in-command.
"Director, the Sultan reports that he has completed liberating the Georgians from the Russian Empire. With the cities of Poti and Batumi now firmly in our control his dream of free access to the rest of the world by sea has been realized. The Sultan also reports that the High Mullah's declaration of religious freedom to the Orthodox Christians and Jews as Peoples of the Book was very well received and that the people seem pleased to be free of the Russian yoke.
On the subject of Hera, reports indicate that she is settling well into 'Abbas' household. No threats seem to be aimed at them. It would seem the queen has no idea of the woman's whereabouts.
Afsoon has successfully escaped with her lover. They encountered a patrol of the Black Squadron that was surrounded, and the women attacked the bandits with abandon. If there was any doubt that she is the Sultan's daughter, her natural sense of tactics and combative valiance should lie that to rest. The unit commander sent you a package he believes you will find—intriguing.
And a final note, our agent in the British Embassy in Persia reports that he has received information that the Crown has acquired something called a Babbage Engine and is also pursuing development of an 'air ship'. This seems hard to believe, but . . . ."
"It is not! Tell our agent that I will have a full report of everything he has heard, read, or seen of what the British are doing. Though the Christians are People of the Book and safe within the Prophet's realm, that doesn't mean we should give them free reign to conquer the world. If they are embarking on voyages through the air, we will not be far behind, إن شاء الله!"
****
After lunch the Director and the Grand Vizier sat with grim visages contemplating a large jar of alcohol. Inside the jar floated a severed head and hand, a hand with a black rose tattooed on its wrist.
"Esteemed Director, Risay was so bold as to allow a unit of his brigands the freedom to attack a patrol of the Black Squadrons? The man grows more reckless by the day. How much longer do you intend to let this impudence continue?"
"My Lord Vizier, these things take time. Despite the man's machinations he poses no real threat to the crown. So long as Malay is still within the
