The English Rose
A standalone I had roughed out a while back, that I decided to drag out and finish.
Everyone engaged in sex is at least eighteen years old.
Prologue
For hundreds of years, southern England and southern Ireland coastal towns, in common with the coasts of most of southern Europe, were subjected to frequent lightning raids by bands of Barbary pirates, from Arabic north African city-states, principally Tunis, Algiers, and Tripoli. Captives, especially women and children, were seized and spirited away to be sold in the slave markets of the Mediterranean north African coast. Except for a fortunate few lucky enough to know someone willing and able to ransom them, the tens of thousands of victims vanished forever from European history. My story is inspired by these actual historical facts, though the events described herein are my own invention. I hope you find the tale interesting.
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With mounting dread, the group of naked women huddled together for mutual warmth on the bare wooden planks of the dimly lit lower deck watched the approach of the two corsairs who were their guards. They brought no food, but one of them was carrying the black iron key to the manacles which entrapped their ankles. They all knew what that meant: one of them, or maybe more than one, was wanted to service some of the corsairs-Arab pirate sailors-who manned the ship in which they were held captive.
The guard with the key pointed to Liz, and to Anna, and they dutifully presented their ankles to have the manacles unlocked and removed. From recent painful experience, they had learned that any hesitation to obey would bring down upon them stinging blows from the truncheons the guards carried. The guards directed them, and they obediently plodded along the rolling deck and climbed the ladder to the open deck above.
One guard took Anna by the elbow and pulled her towards a door in the low forecastle of the ship, where the crew was berthed. Anna's fear blossomed instantly into abject terror. "No, please, not again, don't..." she pleaded, trying to pull away, but a quick wave of the guard's truncheon in her face silenced her protests. The guard shoved her impatiently forward, and she trudged resignedly across the deck and disappeared through the door. Before it closed, Liz heard briefly the welcoming jeers of the crew.
Liz had not yet been through that door herself, but from the reports of other captives who had, she knew what fate once more awaited Anna within. For the next several hours, until they grew weary and went to sleep, the men would take turns raping her, on her back or stomach on a rough wooden bench, bound in place if she would or could not stay on her own. The others cast lots to see who would go next, and cheered each of their shipmate's performance with gusto, offering criticism and suggestions. They would try to bribe her with food to willingly cooperate with them in various perverted barbaric sexual practices they favored. It was a tempting offer; the crew ate fresh meat, and plenty of it, from the villager's livestock they had taken during the raid, while the captives were fed a disgusting swill, and little enough even of that.
The raiders had swooped in well after dark to surprise and capture the whole little fishing village. The three ships had sailed into the little bay long after dark on the incoming tide, tied up to the crude dock, and the crews silently fanned out to surround the two dozen cottages where the fishermen and their families slept blissfully unaware of their impending fate. At a shouted order, the corsairs waving their scimitars had burst in and taken everyone captive with hardly any struggle at all.
With incredible efficiency, the corsairs had spent the rest of the night systematically looting the village of everything of any value or use to them. The captives had been securely tied together into gangs, and forced to labor carrying the loot to the ships. Every bucket in the village was employed to carry fresh water from the village well down to the dock, to refill huge barrels down in the holds. Firewood piled beside the cottage doors ready for the morning cookfire was likewise confiscated. The salted fish, the only thing of commercial value produced there, was collected and taken, along with every other kind of foodstuff. There was little enough in the way of money or other valuables to be had in the mean hovels that were their homes, but such as there was, it was easily extorted with swords to the children's throats.
The few cows the villagers possessed were led down to the dock and slaughtered, the joints of beef hauled on board to be eaten over the next couple of days before it could spoil. Goats and chickens were herded onto the ships to be confined on deck in makeshift pens. The corsairs showed no interest in the pigs in their pens, however.
Last of all, the villagers themselves were herded on board, except for a few very elderly women, apparently deemed not worth the trouble, who were left bereft on the dock tearfully watching their families depart forever. Families were separated, screaming, pleading, shouting despairing farewells to their spouses and children, whom most by now knew they were unlikely to ever see again. The corsairs were entirely indifferent to their entreaties, and enforced their orders brutally.
The women had been divided up among the ships, taken to the lower deck, forced to strip naked, chained up, and left to huddle together in fear. A crude wooden bucket was their only means of relieving themselves; a young captive boy from the village was brought round to carry it on deck to be emptied when it was full, but they were not permitted to talk to him. They were fed twice a day, half cooked porridge that turned Liz's stomach at first, but hunger soon cured her squeamishness. One bucket full of fresh water was brought to them each morning, but if they drank it too quickly, they had to wait until next morning for more, so the women agreed to ration it carefully and fairly among them.
Liz's guard directed her the opposite way from Anna, into another low door aft, down a narrow corridor and into a compact but lavishly appointed cabin, walls lined with elaborate tapestries, a beautiful carpet on the floor. A richly carved wooden desk, behind which sat a middle-aged man, suntanned but not nearly as dark complected as most of the crew, dressed in rich Arabic robes. The guard shoved her forward to stand in front of the desk, then stepped back to wait by the door.
The man spent a long moment impassively surveying her naked form. "Face the other way, so I may see your back," he commanded, in perfect unaccented English. She had heard his voice before, shouting orders at gangs of captives, during the looting of the village. Wordlessly, she obeyed. Presently, he said, "Very well, face me again," and again she obeyed.
"What are you called, my beautiful English rose?" he asked, somewhat indifferently.
"Elizabeth Williamson," she replied.
"Were you called...Liz?" he asked.
"Yes," she acknowledged.
"Liz you shall be," he told her. "Elizabeth Williamson, and the life she knew in the fishing village, are gone forever. Forget about her. You will never escape, or be rescued, and coming from that miserable little village, then there is certainly no one who would pay ransom for you. Do not waste your breath begging me to change your fate, for Allah, praise be to Him, has delivered you into my hands. You can pray to your god for help if you like, but it will be unavailing for you, as it was for me."
"Liz, I am your owner, you master, now," he informed her casually. "You are my slave, my property, and your fate rests completely on how well you can adapt to your new situation, and how well pleased-or displeased-I am with how you behave. Henceforth, you must address me as 'master'. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes," she replied, and as he stared at her expectantly, she added, "Master."
"Good. I am Hussein ibn Al-Amari, the captain of this ship and the commodore of this squadron, though my employer uses a different title for me," he informed her. "I was once known as John Andrews, captain of a trading bark out of Leith Roads. Eight years ago, my ship was overtaken and captured by a corsair vessel much like this one, off Ushant, and I and my crew and passengers were transported to Tripoli, in north Africa, as captives."
"There, I was taken to the slave markets, like the other captives. I was brought before a man who talked to me through an interpreter, a slave who was also an Englishman. He told me that as the owner of the ship that had captured me, I was his property. He explained to me that I had the opportunity to choose my own fate."
"He made me an offer. If I would agree to renounce my Christian faith, convert to Islam, and learn to speak Arabic, I would be set free. He would employ me as a sailor, and perhaps later as a corsair. He took me to his home, which was like a palace, showed me his wives and concubines, allowed me to bathe for the first time in a month, gave me clean garments to wear, shared a sumptuous meal with me. I slept that night in his home, in the company of one of his beautiful young servant girls, who serviced me unreservedly, in ways I had only heard rumors of. In the morning, he made it clear that I could come live there with him, in an apartment in his home, that very day, if I would only agree to convert."
"Then he took me to the dock, to show me the filthy, stinking lower deck of a galley, lined with miserable slaves chained naked to their oars, where they labored under the lash, ate and slept, relieved themselves, and lived out their lives until they could row no more, at which time they would be unceremoniously dumped into the bay to drown. He told me that this would be the fate to which I would be condemned if I refused to convert."
"You can see what choice I made, and I make no apology, nor do I seek your approval or forgiveness for it." he went on. "The Arabs are skilled sailors and pirates, but there is always work for more. European captive sailors, especially ship commanders and officers, who agree to accept Islam are in high demand and command handsome pay. One of the privileges of my contract with my employer, who financed this expedition, is to claim part of my pay in the form of captives of my choosing, if I like. I have decided that you will do very nicely."
"You would be wise to agree willingly to this, without protest or rebellion," he said. "If you convert and learn Arabic, your status in my household will be much enhanced. I might even take you as one of my wives. Your children will be comfortable regardless, but if you are one of my wives, they too will benefit greatly, and inherit my wealth, of which I now have a considerable amount."
"My...children?" she exclaimed, shocked.
