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Arabian Knights

By: Pelaam



©Pelaam: February 2008.

The Farris sailed cleanly through the azure ocean. A good wind was in her sails and the sky was a cloudless cerulean. From his vantage point on the ship, Afzal stood watching his baby brother. The younger man, as was his wont when not working, was reading. Afzal's smile became softer, reflecting the love he had for his younger sibling. Fahim was as beautiful as he was intelligent, if somewhat of a dreamer, and had grown into a fine young man. Afzal had taken responsibility for the six-year-old when their parents had died some fourteen years earlier. At that time, he had been just a fifteen-year-old cabin-boy to their more famous seafaring cousin. However, he had proven so quickly adept as a mariner, that he had been given charge of the Farris just four years later, taking Fahim as his own cabin-boy and had never looked back.

Fahim's dark hair held more of a wave than Afzal's own, reaching his shoulders in an untamed tumble. His youthful face was clean-shaven, unlike Afzal who kept his beard trimmed with a precision that bordered on obsessive. However, the younger man sported more hair on his breast than either his brother or the other man who regarded him so intently. Afzal's smile slowly became mischievous.

Bahadur was tall, powerfully muscled and clean-shaven with jet-black hair restrained in a high ponytail. His skin was the colour of dark honey, a few shades lighter than either Afzal or his brother, and his eyes were as blue as the ocean. He was also the man that Fahim had confessed to his brother that he had lost his heart to. Bahadur was a noble, as well as talented, warrior and Afzal was proud that he had chosen to serve under his command rather than his cousin's. 

Afzal knew Bahadur had previously favoured women when they caroused after a successful voyage. However, over the last couple of months, Bahadur had not joined them with courtesans, choosing to return to the ship after drinking with the rest of the men. As a caring brother, he had seen it as his duty to get the warrior drunk and ascertain his intentions towards Fahim. The older man had admitted to having more than just platonic feelings for him, finding him more entrancing and quick-witted than any woman he had ever bedded. But in part the big man was uncertain his suit would be welcome and in part he had never felt that way for another man and it made him hesitant to take the final step. 

Afzal had no such doubts regarding Fahim's acceptance of the warrior's suit and would be agreeable himself, but he could not reveal his brother's secret confession. Instead he made sure they spent as much time together as he could engineer and encouraged Bahadur. He was pleased to find that not long after Fahim's hesitant confession and his 'chat' with the warrior the two men seemed to be growing steadily closer. He was certain Bahadur was going to make his move soon. The looks he gave Fahim, when he thought no one could see, were both incendiary and yearning in equal measure. Afzal decided it was time to make his own move and give them another small push.

Using the ropes from the main mast, Afzal swung easily and athletically to come up silently and unseen behind Fahim. He laughed uproariously at the less-than-dignified yell from the slighter man as well as the ineffectual battering he took from a scroll wielded as a weapon rather than a tool of instruction. Finally both men collapsed laughing to the deck at the conclusion of their mock-battle.

"You read too much," Afzal said affectionately, as he tucked a wayward curl behind Fahim's ear, their tussling over.

"*You* don't read enough," Fahim countered. He smiled lovingly at his older brother. When he had been just a child, Afzal had been parent, teacher, hero, nurse; just about everything Fahim had needed, whenever he had needed it. Even now they still shared a cabin, neither man wanting to lose the closeness they had enjoyed for so many years. 

As they slowly stood, Fahim gave another undignified yelp as he was easily lifted off his feet and wrapped in strong arms, and Afzal laughed once more.

"Do you wish me to clap him in irons for daring to strike the ship's Captain, Afzal?" 

The voice was deep and melodious and Fahim felt his stomach flip over at the sound as well as at the realisation of whose strong body he was now held securely against. He felt himself melt in the embrace and hoped it was not so obvious to the older men. However, he retained his feistiness in other ways.

"Both you *and* my brother are over-muscled oafs, Bahadur," he retorted, without even craning to see who was behind him. If he was honest, Fahim knew if he looked in those devastatingly blue eyes, all his intellect would vanish.

"Indeed?" Afzal said, a devious smirk playing about his lips. He watched surreptitiously as Fahim was lowered to the deck, but Bahadur's arm remained snaked around his brother's waist.

"Indeed," Fahim nodded emphatically, relishing the feel of the warrior's body behind him and inwardly rejoicing as Bahadur's arm remained in place.

"I think I have a far more suitable punishment for him," Afzal said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Instead of loafing on the beach tomorrow with his oh-so precious scrolls, Fahim can do some *real* work. He can accompany you to find fresh water."

The smile from his brother, as well as the grateful look from the warrior, told Afzal more than any number of words. He silently prayed that *this* would be the time the warrior finally confessed his feelings to the younger man. He watched as the two men walked away, discussing their needs. He grinned widely. Although Bahadur's arm was no longer around Fahim's waist, his hand was at the smaller man's back, the gesture as possessive as it was protective.

****

Bahadur and Fahim walked companionably together as the rest of the crew relaxed on the beach. They knew when they returned with the location of water, there would be cooked fish waiting and men would sing or tell tales long into the night. The water would be collected by a group of them the next day. The land they currently traversed was light woodland and scrub, with rocky hills rising to their right. Ahead, however, there was a more dense forest that Bahadur was certain would have a stream or river. It was his lightening-swift warrior instinct that reacted as Fahim stumbled in a hidden pot-hole.

It seemed to the warrior that time stood still whilst he gazed into eternity as his eyes locked with those of the younger man in his arms. It had felt such a long time that his heart had directed him one way, whilst his mind had proven reticent. Looking into those fathomless, limpid pools, he saw only the offer of love for which he had long-yearned. He refused to let his fear dictate his action. It seemed as though Fahim was able to read his very thoughts. As the warrior moved, so did the younger man, his lips aligning for their first kiss.

Slowly ... reluctantly... their lips parted. Bahadur ran his tongue over his own to ensure he had tasted all of Fahim's sweetness. He looked at the man he held. Fahim's eyes were still glazed and his normally pink lips were reddened and swollen. The warrior decided he liked that look on the beautiful youth. Seemingly of their own volition, his lips recaptured Fahim's, however, this time he licked at their seam, silently demanding access. He delved deep, duelling briefly with Fahim's shyer muscle, tasting and touching every nuance of the warm, wet cavern. Fahim's clean male scent appeased his nostrils and he could have stayed this way for hours, if it were not for the necessity of breathing. This time as they parted their heads remained pressed together, their mouths so close to one another it seemed they shared the same breath. Bahadur briefly wondered what it was he had ever feared.

"I never knew ... never dreamt it could be so," Fahim panted softly, caressing Bahadur's lips with his words.

Bahadur frowned slightly at the implication of the words. Surely Fahim had...

"Your brother must have taken you to sample courtesans," the warrior said. "Or is it just you have not kissed a man?"

"I have never kissed another in passion," Fahim said, his cheeks beginning to darken in colour as he made his admission. "My brother may be my Captain, but even he cannot steer my heart. I made the choice not to share my body until I found the one I wanted to share my life with. To that person I would offer my heart, my body, my very essence. I would offer myself to you, Bahadur," he concluded, his voice so quiet, the big man was uncertain he had heard all correctly.

"You ... You are ... untouched?" One part of the warrior's brain struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the gift he was offered, the other wanted to roar in primal triumph. None had known this beautiful young man and none, except he, ever would.

"Are you displeased?" Fahim asked, misinterpreting Bahadur's lapse into silence.

"No, no, no," the warrior assured, peppering tiny kisses over the anxious visage. "I have never been offered such a beautiful and precious gift," he added, as his kisses deepened. "However, I must confess that I have no experience in pleasuring another man, although I do know the ... mechanics... involved."

"I have ... um ...read... um... things," Fahim said, his cheeks now ablaze.

"Then perhaps your scrolls were of use after all," the warrior teased, hoping to alleviate some of Fahim's embarrassment. 

Fahim pressed his face into the solid shoulder of his lover-to-be, but the big man could hear the soft laughter.

"I can teach you what pleases me," Bahadur offered. "And I will demonstrate on you. His lips once more sought those of his mate. Slowly, he urged Fahim to the ground, his lips and tongue ceaselessly caressing the younger man. He unfastened the ties of the silk shirt that inhibited his touching of the youthful breast. He gazed into the deep, fathomless depths of Fahim's eyes, silently seeking permission. At the small nod he gazed proprietarily at the coffee-coloured skin, its light dusting of dark hair, growling approvingly at the sight of the large dark discs haloing small dark nubs he wanted to sample. Slowly, he licked his tongue over one then the other to an impassioned cry from Fahim.

As the warrior tenderly suckled at one virgin breast, he gently caressed the other. He spared a few seconds to wonder what it was he had ever feared. All he could see and feel was the deep and abiding love offered unconditionally from the gentle beauty in his arms. He momentarily regretted taking so long to reach that point, but immediately resolved to make up for the time they had lost.

"Bahadur please, I ... I ache," Fahim moaned, tossing his head restlessly.

The big man's eyes roamed lower, to the crotch of the voluminous pants the younger man favoured. They were tented with the hard evidence of his mate's arousal. Slowly, the warrior placed his hand over the bulge and squeezed to another fervent cry from Fahim and the bucking of slender hips.

"Hush, my beloved," Bahadur crooned as he undid the sash and then the ties to Fahim's pants. He drew them apart, exposing the slender rod jutting from a nest of dark, wiry curls and Fahim whimpered.

"May I touch you?" the warrior husked. He wanted to touch... to taste... to experience everything with this special young man.

"Please, please," Fahim begged. His hips were rising and falling, seeking to bring relief. He was not so chaste as not to have touched himself, but he had never felt the intense need that Bahadur seemed to have engendered, setting his very blood ablaze with the fire of unbridled passion. His eyes were locked on the bigger man's. There seemed to be no blue left, just a glittering blackness that beckoned enticingly.

The warrior grasped the elegant erection, squeezing and pumping gently, not wanting to overwhelm his lover, yet knowing Fahim was too aroused to last long. His own weapon throbbed achingly, trapped within the confines of the black leather pants that Bahadur preferred. He bent to pepper kisses once more as his hand increased in speed and then pulled back in time to watch Fahim's face, transported by bliss, as his seed arched from his shaft to adorn his chest and the warrior's hand.

Bahadur stared at the precious silver anointing him. Courtesans had often taken him in their mouths and he had found it a most pleasurable experience. Hesitantly he brought his fingers to his lips and licked tentatively. It was salty, yet with an underlying sweetness and something that was pure Fahim. He licked the rest of the crème from his hands and rasped his tongue over Fahim's chest, cleansing him. He straddled Fahim's boneless frame, unfastening his pants. 

"Touch me, my love," he pleaded, as his flesh finally sprang free. Bahadur knew he was well endowed, but was still both pleased and proud at the gasp from his young lover.

"So magnificent," he breathed. "Does this touch please you?" Fahim added as he began a gentle stroking motion.

"Like this, beloved," the bigger man encouraged. He wrapped his hand around Fahim's to demonstrate the harder, faster touch that would bring him rapid completion. There would be other times for more leisurely lovemaking.

With a roar, the warrior bucked his seed onto Fahim's chest, marking the young beauty as his. As primitive as the gesture was, he could not resist rubbing his glistening trails into the warm, soft skin. He then settled himself at Fahim's side to indulge his new lover in as many kisses as Fahim craved.

"Bahadur?" Fahim's voice was soft and uncertain, his face now pressed into the warrior's shoulder. "You are so gloriously built; although I have read ... your size ... will you fit?" Fahim asked, his embarrassment reflected in his disjointed words.

The older man gazed down at the sweet innocent in his arms and tilted Fahim's face to look up at his own.

"There is no rush to consume our love in that way. When the time is right, we will share our love and I shall be so deep inside you that my flesh will touch your heart."

"You have already touched my heart," Fahim whispered. "It is no longer mine but yours."

"As mine is yours," Bahadur vowed, leaning down to steal another kiss from the red, swollen lips of his mate. His heart thrilled to know how beloved he was and knew he loved Fahim with equal intensity and ardour.

****

All too soon, the lovers knew they had to continue their search. Bahadur used Fahim's sash to dry his mate's skin after washing him clean. He regretted that the beautiful body was once more hidden from his sight but knew he would jealously guard Fahim's nakedness before any others; that sight was for him and him alone.

"I hope we find water soon," Fahim smiled as Bahadur draped a possessive arm around his shoulder whilst they walked on. "I want to get back to camp. I want Afzal to know of our love and give us his blessing."

"I am certain he will," the warrior replied, remembering each opportunity their Captain had given him to realise his love for the younger man. "Let us aim this way," Bahadur decided, leading them out of the small copse to cross a clearing and towards lush greenery that suggested a plentiful supply of water.

****

Bahadur's stomach tightened as he saw the riders on the crest of the hill. He could make out four of them, wearing some kind of livery and pointing in their direction. He gave a mental growl of anger. They were caught in the open, equally distant from the woodland to which they headed and the copse they had left. Either of them would have furnished a measure of protection. He stopped to push Fahim back in the direction they had come, preferring to send his love towards his brother and their fellow crewmen. 

"When I say 'run', you must take flight and not look back," the warrior murmured, glancing up at the horsemen who matched them whether walking or standing still.

"I will not leave the man who is my heart," Fahim said determinedly. "I can fight, too."

"I know, beloved," Bahadur murmured. "We are both of the Farris. But I am a warrior by profession and it is my duty to protect her men. More still, I would defend to my dying breath the man I love more than life itself. If you stay I would be watching your back rather than my own." The warrior hated being manipulative, but having just found love, could not bear the thought of Fahim being harmed in any way.

A shout from the riders, preceded their racing down the hillside.

"Remember I love you, Fahim. Now run!" Bahadur commanded, shoving the smaller man towards perceived safety and unsheathing his twin saifs. He watched as Fahim sped away and then turned to face the riders. His heart clenched as a hitherto unseen fifth veered away from the main group looking to run his lover down. As he was surrounded, Bahadur could only pray Fahim reached safety.

Tears burnt at Fahim's eyes, blurring his vision, but he ran on. He knew Bahadur's argument was sound. If he could reach his brother and the men of the Farris, they could return and rescue his lover. He was aware of the sound of horse's hooves thundering closer and tried to run faster, but already his legs and throat burned. He gave a wordless shout of protest as he was scooped to lay face down in front of the rider who captured him. He kicked frantically, earning a stunning blow to his skull for his troubles. Dazed, he felt the horse wheeled around to head back.

Bahadur was confused by the riders. They remained mounted, their swords ready, but simply circling him. He kept his own saifs raised, uncertain what it was they wanted. He hoped that as they had made no attempt to attack, he would end up as nothing worse than their prisoner. If they were looking for some kind of ransom for his freedom, he knew Afzal would meet it.

"If you value the young one's life you will put down your weapons," a harsh, hoarse voice demanded.

He risked a glance in the direction Fahim had taken and his stomach knotted. His beautiful young love was draped over the fifth horseman's mount. He knew resistance was futile and lowered his arms accordingly. His hands were quickly bound behind his back and a rope tied from his waist to one of the rider's saddles. As bad as being forced to run to keep up with the cantering riders was, it paled into insignificance as he watched the rider's leader take unwelcome liberties with Fahim's helpless body. 

Fahim's hands had also been bound behind his back, but he remained draped over the leader's horse. The rider's hands slid between Fahim's legs or over his buttocks, stroking and squeezing, eliciting fruitless struggles from the younger man. Only Bahadur had the right to touch Fahim in such ways and the warrior was certain he could feel his teeth fracture as he ground them furiously together. He silently swore to avenge Fahim and himself on the coarsely laughing man.

****

It did not take long before the riders entered a small city and headed towards a walled palace. Sentries outside bore the same livery as the riders, however, Bahadur noted that the city's dwellers had looked at the riders with dislike, fear, even open hatred. His instincts told him that there was more going on here than just the enslavement of innocent travellers.

The two men were taken inside and immediately found themselves in the palace dungeons. The place was dark, damp and evil-smelling. Bahadur reacted furiously when a struggling Fahim was taken away from him, his threats laughed at by their jailors. 

The rider's leader returned minus his livery. He eyed Bahadur as though the warrior was no more than a prized piece of animal flesh. A scar ran down his face and across his throat, giving him a menacing, ugly appearance. His look changed as a still-struggling Fahim was returned, minus his shirt, and with a metal ring affixed around his throat.

"Your boy is now one of my slaves," the scarred man rasped. "Take the warrior and ring him similarly," he ordered.


Arabian Knights



"Yes, Hashim." 

Bahadur fought futilely. He was a free man and would not submit willingly to being branded by a collar as a slave. 

Fahim watched distraught from inside a small cage as a still-fighting Bahadur was dragged back into the large dungeon. He could see the marks of the beating his lover had already endured. Bahadur was shoved roughly to his knees and Hashim tapped at his shoulders with the handle of a leather whip.

"You need to learn just who is master here, warrior," he grated.

"Please, no," Fahim begged, unable to bear the thought of seeing his lover hurt more.

"You would stand in the warrior's stead, boy?" Hashim rasped, his voice taking on a sly tone.

"No, Fahim," Bahadur shouted.

"Ten lashes for the warrior or just five for you."

Fahim hesitated; he had never endured a whipping. The worst punishment he had ever had at his brother's hands was a sound spanking for a childish prank that could have cost him his life and, at the end of that punishment, both he and Afzal had been in tears.

"Twenty for the warrior or six for you," Hashim rasped, as Fahim failed to reply quickly enough.

"I will bear his punishment," Fahim whispered, trying to keep the fear from his voice. He could endure this for Bahadur. He had to. He tried to ignore Bahadur's roar of rage and denial as he was pulled from his cage. He was brought to stand close to Hashim, so close he could smell the man's fetid breath and his stomach threatened to rebel from a combination of fear and disgust.

Hashim indicated manacles at the end of chains hanging from the ceiling.

"You will hold to these," Hashim's voice grated in Fahim's ear. If you release them at any time before you have taken your punishment in full, the warrior will still receive twenty lashes. Is that understood?"

Fahim nodded mutely, reaching to grip unforgiving metal. His skin began to crawl as Hashim walked slowly around him; touching him with the handle of the whip across his chest... rubbing insidiously across his groin...suggestively between his kicked-apart legs. All the time Fahim repeated a mental mantra: 'I can bear this for Bahadur; I can bear this for Bahadur.' He gave a small whimpered sound of denial as Hashim came up close behind him, licking at his shoulder, teasing his nipples before cupping his completely lax genitals.

"He is very beautiful, warrior and his skin perfect. Both will change after he takes your punishment," Hashim laughed coldly.

"I swear you will live long enough to regret every unwanted touch and any pain he endures at your hands, Hashim. I swear it." Bahadur locked his eyes with those of his terrified lover. It was clear to the warrior that the man who held them prisoner was a master of both physical and mental torture. He could see the tremors that shook Fahim's slender frame and a single blow was yet to fall. 

Fahim prayed never again to experience the kiss of the lash. Each caress of the whip sent a streak of fire across every nerve in Fahim's unprotected back. And every time Hashim would pause, walk around him slowly, tipping Fahim's head upwards as it began to droop. By the time three lashes had been endured, silent tears stained the young man's face, whilst his knuckles were white. He held so tightly to the manacles, he could feel the metal cutting into his hands and his legs were shaking with the strain. Now his mantra was 'I will not fail', but he could not stop a sound of pain escaping his lips as the fourth blow fell.

Then Hashim's detested voice was buzzing close to him, but Fahim struggled to make sense of the words over the roar of blood that pounded in his ears.

"Well done, boy. You may release the chains."

When Fahim remained in place, Hashim simply prised open the young man's fingers and watched dispassionately as Fahim crumpled to the ground.

"Should I put them in separate cells?" One of the jailors asked Hashim. 

"No," Hashim replied, eying the fallen Fahim. Even now the young man was nothing less than beautiful. "Give them some water and put them in the same cell. I believe that the warrior will be far more amenable to our desires if he fears the boy will take his punishment for disobedience. He is a magnificent animal and knew how to wield the saifs. He will go down well at the exhibition of fighting the Prince has arranged. Imagine him oiled, with nothing but the smallest of coverings on his body, or perhaps a harness to emphasise his chest. Yes, he will be appreciated by male and female alike and the Prince will be well pleased."

"And the boy?" The words were a sly whisper.

"Once the exhibition is over, the warrior can be taught obedience more ... personally. I don't want to mar him now. Then the boy can warm my bed and be taught a completely different form of obedience. I am sure he will refuse me nothing to spare his beloved warrior."

****

It seemed an eternity to Bahadur before he was finally locked in a dark, stinking cell with the barely conscious Fahim. His heart constricted with every muted mewl of pain from his lover's lips as he cleansed the wounds by made by the whip. He was marginally relieved that it seemed Hashim's expertise at wielding the weapon had meant that, although Fahim had been hurt, the lashes were relatively shallow. If he could keep the wounds clean, Fahim might not be left with unsightly scars on his precious, perfect skin, although his assessment was based as much on feel as sight. The only lights were dim lamps outside the cell that cast precious little illumination inside.

He glanced around, his nose wrinkling with distaste. The only 'bedding' in the cell was straw so dirty he would not give it to an animal to lie on. He gave a worried glance at his young lover. Bahadur's oriental master had emphasised the need to a warrior to pay particular attention to personal cleanliness and as a consequence, the big man was often teased about his scrupulous cleansing morning and night. However, his relatively scar-free body and rapid healing when wounded seemed to bear testimony to his master's teachings. Here, it was going to be almost impossible to observe them. He drew Fahim onto his lap and encouraged his beloved to drink a little of their water. His anger burned away his tears before they had chance to fall and he repeatedly dropped kisses into his mate's soft tresses.

As awareness came to Fahim so did a mixture of pain and shame that had him sobbing helplessly against his lover's hard chest. Slowly he regained mastery over his emotions and realised Bahadur was rocking him gently and crooning softly. It was a tender side to the big man that he felt privileged to see and it made Fahim fall in love with the warrior all over again. The love of the older man was almost palpable and, even in the dark despair surrounding them, Fahim's heart rejoiced. As he had lain in his lover's embrace, Fahim's quicksilver mind had been working. He knew what he wanted ... what he needed and he knew it was going to be difficult to make the big man to agree. As there was no point in being anything other than direct in their circumstances, Fahim leant back a little to try and see his mate's face in the almost non-existent light.

"Bahadur," he whispered, his voice rough from his tears. "I would have you love me."

"No, no, no, do not ask it of me," the big man moaned softly into Fahim's hair. 

"This is not the place or the way I would choose to give myself to you, my love. But I fear that Hashim would force from me what I wish only to give to you. I beg you, make love with me, and take the gift I offer."

With a sob of his own, Bahadur claimed his mate's lips. The words were true. He had seen the avarice in Hashim's eyes; had seen the lust. He had the feeling their jailor had plans for them he was yet to reveal and he feared those included forcing his depraved lust on his virginal lover. He knew he had capitulated even before he began to reach for the sash at Fahim's waist, yet he kept up his objections.

"We have nothing to ease my way inside you," he murmured, hands working to divest his mate of the voluminous pants as he nuzzled Fahim's throat.

"Yes we do," the young man insisted, framing his lover's face and kissing him deeply. "We have our love. I want this, you want this. I am yours. Take me, my warrior and love me, please love me, Bahadur."

Bahadur gave a soul-deep groan at Fahim's words, spoken with such sincerity and need. As he helped the smaller man out of his clothing, he laid it on the floor for Fahim to lie upon. He removed his own pants to furnish a basic pillow. He then positioned himself behind the lithe body, trying not to rub against the welts on Fahim's back, kissing gently at the bare shoulder before him.

"I love you, Fahim," he vowed as he reached to stroke at still-soft flesh between his lover's thighs. He prayed he could make Fahim spill. He felt his mate's hand cover his own and he murmured tender words as he gently milked Fahim of his seed. He circled Fahim's secret opening. "Are you certain, beloved?" Bahadur asked one last time.

"Make love with me," Fahim whispered, pushing his buttocks back onto the finger sliding between his cheeks.

With infinite patience, Bahadur pressed a single finger into molten depth, groaning softly at the tight heat grasping his digit. He held unmoving until Fahim's tenseness eased before beginning to move in and out, relaxing the virginal passage. The process was repeated with two and then three fingers, Bahadur feeling the clenching muscle slowly relax. He curled his fingers carefully and found his lover's hidden jewel. Fahim's soft moan and pushing back onto his fingers partially appeased the bigger man. He had dreamt of deflowering his precious virgin aboard the Farris and now those dreams were shattered. He fervently prayed he could give his mate pleasure from their lovemaking.

"Relax as much as you can, beloved. Take a deep breath for me and then let it out all at once." Bahadur's deep voice resonated in Fahim's ear. The warrior had used the last of his mate's crème to coat his iron-hard shaft, mixing it with his own copious pre-come. As much as his mind detested the situation in which he and Fahim were about to consummate their love, his body yearned to unite with its mate, to become as one with Fahim.

Fahim nodded his understanding and took the breath but before he had fully exhaled, Bahadur was pushing insistently inside. Fahim muted his scream at the searing pain by biting on his fist, not wanting the jailers to hear what was happening. All his muscles seemed to have contracted hard in protest. He was unable to catch his breath, all his awareness was focused on devastating fullness that felt as though it would split him into two.

"Breathe, my love. Please." Bahadur's pleading voice registered dimly. "Do you want me to pull out?"

Fahim removed his fist from his lips and brought his hand to the hip behind him, holding as tight as he was able. Through gritted teeth, he managed a hoarse:

"No."

Bahadur's hands stroked soothingly up and down Fahim's chest, caressing the taut nipples, tugging at them gently, hoping to distract Fahim whilst he stayed unmoving within the tight ring of muscle. Then an idea came to his mind.

"When your brother has come for us and we are free of this place we will make love again," he promised, whispering huskily in Fahim's ear. "Picture us aboard Farris, the blue sky seen through a porthole and the gently undulating waves." 

Fahim listened and took a deep breath and then another, concentrating on the vision as Bahadur's voice caressed his ear

"I will know every part of your body with my tongue, not a single place will remain unknown to me. You will moan and beg and writhe and I will take you in my mouth until you spill, screaming my name."

Slowly, Fahim felt his breached muscles unclench and tentatively accept the welcome intruder as he pictured himself pleasured by his lover's mouth.

"You love me, I love you," Fahim husked. The marvel of that thought made him rock back minutely, taking in a tiny bit more of Bahadur's substantial flesh.

"I love you more than life itself, Fahim." Bahadur vowed. "When I am next inside you I will have stretched you with my tongue before using the finest oil."

That thought sent a bolt of pure lust deep inside Fahim's belly and he groaned softly, his internal muscles clenching and unclenching in anticipation. The hiss from Bahadur made him smile and he moved a little more. The pain had muted to a dull ache and the fullness was incredibly satisfying, because it was Bahadur that filled him. He gave a soft gasp as Bahadur's hand reached to stroke him once more. His flesh twitched valiantly and began to slowly refill, the sensation beyond anything Fahim could have imagined.

The next few moments ensured Bahadur's weapon was completely sheathed within Fahim's molten depths. The pain was finally gone leaving only a voluptuous feeling of being filled with Bahadur's love. 

"You are so tight ... hot ... mine." Bahadur's voice was in Fahim's ear and the words seared into Fahim's soul.

"Yours," the young man agreed. Even in this most undesirable of places, he felt content to lie with Bahadur buried within him, feeling loved, treasured and completed in a way he had never known was possible.

"You are well, Fahim?" Bahadur's voice sounded unsure.

"I am well, my beloved," Fahim replied. The pain was now a distant memory, the union with his soul-mate more than he could ever have wished for.

Bahadur kissed his shoulder and nibbled at his throat and began to slide in and out, the friction making Fahim pant softly. Then he was thrusting faster and that secret spot was sparked again making Fahim beg, almost silently, in a muted plea.

Bahadur held Fahim still and moved with controlled power. His aim was to make Fahim aware of only pleasure and not of the cell that held them. He pulled on swollen flesh, licking and nipping at Fahim's delectable body, pumping his hips to pound at Fahim's hidden sweetness.

The flames of rapture rose higher, firing Fahim's body with a burning need. Bahadur's' hand was insistent, demanding Fahim spill again and the volcano that simmered inside him finally erupted with his seed pulsing explosively from his body. He heard Bahadur husk his name, the sound accompanied by the incredible sensation of liquid fire flowing inside him. Fahim finally slumped, replete in a way he had never before experienced. He wanted to tell Bahadur how much he loved the warrior, but his body was leaden in the wake of the intense release and his eyes refused to remain open.

Bahadur was in ecstasy as his seed coated his lover's contracting channel. That he had brought his mate to completion when joined with him offered some consolation to his soul for the detested circumstances. He carefully withdrew from Fahim's body. He smiled indulgently as he found his lover was insensate. He pulled on his pants then tenderly re-dressed Fahim. He made sure he held tight to his sleeping lover, keeping his larger body between Fahim and the cell door, offering what little protection he could. 

"Hurry, Afzal," he whispered into the darkness.

****

Afzal enjoyed lazing on the beach. Some of his men were fishing, others creating the campfires, the rest told seafaring tales or sang. The time passed pleasantly and quickly. It was only when the fish were ready for grilling that Afzal frowned, realising his brother and the warrior had not returned. Although some of the crew made good-natured and ribald comments, which Afzal took in good grace, he noted that pairs of his men were now seeking higher ground to look for the couple. 

Most of his crew had been with him since he took command of the Farris and Fahim was universally loved by all. They had watched him grow from a serious child treated as a favoured mascot, into a beautiful, intelligent man who lived and worked as their equal. Some had found the warrior difficult to relate to, Bahadur tended towards keeping people at arm's-length. However, the crew were sharp-eyed and quick-minded enough to see the growing affection between the recalcitrant warrior and Afzal's brother. All sought nothing but happiness for the couple. Bearing in mind what he had hoped for, Afzal sent a prayer that Fahim and the warrior were simply lost in each other and nothing more.

Afzal arose from the sand as one of his closest friends came towards him, abandoning his perch on a rocky hilltop. As he got neared, Afzal could see the same worry he knew was etched on his own face.

"You are concerned, Rafiq?" Afzal asked, knowing the answer already.

"As are you and the men," the older man replied. "I thought to have them returned by now, the warrior finally having confessed his love for Fahim. But neither would be so blinded by love to remain out there this long. The warrior takes his duties seriously and your brother idolises you and would never purposely cause you to fret. Yes I worry, my friend, and I begin to fear that it is with good cause."

"Then let us take action," Afzal said decisively.

Afzal took a select group with him, including Rafiq who was knowledgeable in healing and Rabi, an ebony-skinned, shaven-skulled Moor who was an excellent tracker and hunter. Two other crewmen followed, their hands drifting to repeatedly touch the scimitars they carried as if trouble was a foregone conclusion. The troupe followed Rabi who had no trouble in following the trail of their missing companions.

"They lay for a while here," Rabi announced, reading where bodies, rather than just footprints told their story. "Then they moved this way." He pointed and headed off in the indicated direction. As he reached the centre of the clearing, Rabi began to trot to and fro, murmuring in his own tongue as he deciphered the signs, although it was clear to all that riders had made an appearance.

"Can you make sense of what happened here?" Afzal asked, anxiety colouring his voice. Two sets of concerned sienna orbs met as Rabi faced his Captain.

Fahim and Bahadur were walking that way," he pointed, "towards greener foliage. Riders came from the hills there. Fahim ran back the way they had come, his steps are smaller and lighter than Bahadur's, and a rider peeled away to chase after him. His marks vanish, so I conclude the rider took him on his mount. Bahadur's vanish amongst the other horse tracks. The riders headed in that direction," he pointed to the forest ahead. "I could find no sign that they were harmed, Captain," Rabi concluded.

Afzal indicated for one of his crewmen to step forward.

"Return to camp and, at first light, bring a party of our men here, leaving enough to defend the Farris. We will camp just inside the forest perimeter and wait for you. Tomorrow we will find who has taken my brother and the warrior." Afzal's voice dropped to a cold, deadly growl. "And if either man is hurt, I will have vengeance."

****

Bahadur was already awake when their jailors sauntered down the passageway, turning up the light from the lamps and waking the prisoners with jeers and shouts. Two bowls of thin gruel were pushed through the bars of the cell in which the warrior and Fahim were held. Bahadur was concerned at the unnatural heat of his young lover's body and at the disorientated look in expressive eyes.

"Afzal?" Fahim murmured sleepily. 

"He is not here, beloved," Bahadur replied, nuzzling his mate. "We are prisoners, remember? But he will find us."

"I remember," Fahim sighed and then gave a pained cry as he moved and his abused back protested.

"Let me bathe it a little, love," Bahadur urged. He dabbed carefully at the dirt that had managed to insinuate its way into the cruel weals. His lover's back would be bruised beneath the welts, adding to Fahim's discomfort. He let Fahim lean against his chest as they tried to eat the unpalatable food. They shared a single bowl at a time between them, so that Bahadur could ensure Fahim swallowed a reasonable amount.




Arabian Knights



"I am so sorry you were hurt, my sweet one," Bahadur whispered into his mate's hair. "So sorry."

"They had hurt you enough, my brave warrior," Fahim whispered back, receiving the kiss he craved. "I pray Afzal arrives today. I fear Hashim," he added, his voice little more than a tiny whisper of sound.

At the sound of heavy footsteps, the two men arose and Bahadur's pride for his lover swelled as Fahim stood determinedly at his side, attempting to ignore his pain and not show weakness in front of their enemy. Despite his intrinsic scholarly nature, in Bahadur's eyes at least, Fahim had the heart of a true knight.

****

The day was a nightmare for the warrior. Hashim told them of the display of fighting in which he expected Bahadur to fully participate. It was quickly clear to their captor that whilst Fahim was able to wield a sword, he was not a master of the art. Instead Hashim insisted he was given to some of the other combatants as a sparring partner. Bahadur was able to do nothing to help his lover, watching powerlessly as the slighter man visibly tired.

Each time a bigger, stronger opponent knocked him to the ground, Fahim determinedly rose to face him once more. The initial jeering comments the young man had endured slowly turned into respect for his perseverance, even from those who had considered him little opposition.

Bahadur would gladly have endured a more gruelling session, obeying all of Hashim's commands as the day wore interminably on, knowing it would not be he that the cruel taskmaster punished. Fahim was Bahadur's weak spot and Hashim exploited that knowledge. 

By evening, Fahim was so exhausted that the warrior could barely get some more of the gruel they were given inside him as Fahim's eyes closed over repeatedly. Dust and dirt had once more become ingrained in the whip welts and Bahadur conscientiously cleansed them, noting with concern that a couple, slightly deeper wounds, were inflamed. Fahim needed good food, a clean place to rest and the talents of a healer, none of which Bahadur could envisage in their prison. He shuffled to a corner of the cell, letting the cold, damp, rough wall abrade his own back. He pulled the sleeping young man into his lap, trying to keep Fahim off the filthy floor. He tenderly kissed his lover's too-warm brow.

"Keep fighting, beloved," he urged. "Afzal will be here very soon." Bahadur prayed he was right.

****

Afzal was frustrated almost beyond his endurance. They had found the small city quite quickly the next morning, but few of its inhabitants were willing to speak to strangers, eying them with suspicion or open hostility. It had not helped his temper that it appeared that the mysterious riders had entered the walled palace. Afzal needed to find an ally; someone willing to talk openly. As the afternoon wore on, the sailor received his prayed-for breakthrough. 

A couple of older men turned out to be ex-mariners and had even sailed as part of his cousin's crew. They told the young man about the Sultan falling ill and how his daughter sent for her fiancé, the neighbouring province's Prince. Things had then changed at the palace. The city had become a place of the Prince's spies and the Princess was no longer seen amongst her people. He was also told that his best source of information would be an innkeeper named Nadir. However, the innkeeper was out of the city, due to return either by its evening curfew or at first light.

Afzal now sat, accompanied by Rafiq and Rabi, at the designated inn awaiting Nadir's return. His friends gave occasional sympathetic glances in his direction but Afzal was oblivious. He closed his eyes. //I am coming for you, Fahim. I will find you soon, I swear it.// His eyes opened again but he saw only the happy times he and his brother had shared together and his constant prayer was they would share many more to come.

****

Bahadur's level of concern for Fahim had risen with the dawn. It had taken a few moments for the young man to realise where he was and who he was with.

"Did I anger Afzal, Bahadur?" Fahim's voice was soft and sad and it almost broke the big warrior's heart. "Is that why he will not come for us?"

"No, no, my love," he assured, kissing the warm, dry skin of Fahim's pale visage. "He is coming for us and he is very close now, I can feel it. You did nothing wrong. We were captured and taken prisoner, but when Afzal comes, all will be well."

"I miss him," Fahim said, his voice almost child-like.

"Be strong a little longer, sweet one," Bahadur begged. "Just a little longer."

****

Hashim gave another smile as Bahadur stood placidly, allowing Hashim to oil his body. The man was working slowly up the warrior's body, his leather pants discarded in favour of a similar kilt to those the Roman gladiators wore.

"We want the women to be as enthralled as the men, warrior. They will appreciate a specimen such as you." 

Hashim's words burnt into Bahadur's soul, but he would do nothing to jeopardise Fahim's fragile state. His lover currently sat under an ornamental tree, in the shade, as the temperature around them rose. Even the other combatants had refused to spar with Fahim when they had seen him. Hashim needed them and had allowed the young man to rest, and had turned his attention onto Bahadur. The warrior stiffened as Hashim's fingers slipped between his thighs, dangerously close to the warrior's hitherto disinterested sex. The warrior prayed fervently that his body did not betray him. The fingers moved to tease at sensitive skin and then Hashim was standing, facing him. His hands moved over Bahadur's chest, tweaking the warrior's nipples out of sight of the other men. A cold, merciless smile twisted upon his face.

Bahadur remained stoic as Hashim laughed and walked away. The warrior felt dirty, violated but was glad that Fahim had been spared. He could endure much worse to keep his beloved safe. He glanced at his lover as Hashim called for Fahim to bring water. The warrior's soul ached as the younger man struggled to his feet, and lifted a large container of water. He did not get far and Bahadur cried out his lover's name in genuine fear as Fahim simply crumpled to the ground.

****

Nadra scowled as she trailed behind her Princess and the ever-present bodyguards. She bit back the snort of derision. They were no more bodyguards than she was. They were jailors, ensuring the Princess only wandered around the pillared balcony that surrounded the courtyard that was once where she and Dalal could sit. Now it was used by the disliked Hashim and his so-called warriors. Dalal had been so grateful to Prince Mahfuz when he had arrived, she had not seen how marginalised he had made her. However, it seemed the Princess had finally begun to see what was happening around her. Nadra hoped it was not too late for her to act.

A desperate voice from the courtyard caught both women's attention and Dalal shot Nadra a look the lithe woman recognised instantly. Grinning, she darted forward, ignoring the shout from the guards too slow to stop her. As she swung agilely from the balustrade to the large tree, she listened to the frantic words.

"He needs a physician, he will die. I beg you to let him receive care."

She saw a handsome warrior who knelt cradling a slighter body to his chest. Running to kneel beside him, she kept her face averted from Hashim's eyes and whispered urgently.

"Petition the Princess, she will heed you, I promise."

His instincts telling him to trust the small, dark woman, Bahadur raised pleading eyes to the Princess gazing down at them.

"Please, Highness," he shouted. "My ... my companion needs a physician. I beg you, my Lady, do not let him die."

"He could be taken to my quarters, Princess," Nadra suggested.

"Show the warrior the way, Nadra," the Princess replied, her voice carrying easily over the distance that separated them. 

Nadra did not miss the tap to the chest that accompanied Dalal's words and dropped her head to hide her smile of triumph. She would be leading the warrior to the Princess' own rooms. Not even the Prince would dare enter there.

"Follow me and hurry," she whispered.

Bahadur nodded silently. He scooped Fahim into his arms and hastened after the fleet-footed woman. Perhaps once his lover was receiving attention, he would get some answers and a way to attain their freedom. As he approached ornate doors, he saw them pulled open from inside and the Princess pushed away the guards that would bar his entrance.

"He has my permission to enter. You will not *dare* disobey my command to let him pass."

Bahadur could see the guards were clearly discomfited at the order, but obeyed, albeit reluctantly. He swept inside, the smaller woman closing the doors with a sigh of relief and the Princess showing him the way through an archway into a sumptuous bedroom. He laid Fahim on the silks and satins of the large bed and gratefully took the proffered glass of cool water. Propping his lover against his chest, Bahadur carefully let some of the liquid trickle slowly past Fahim's parched lips. He watched as his mate successfully swallowed and repeated the action and then let Fahim lie back.

"Quickly thought, Princess," Nadra grinned. "This is the princess Dalal, whose father is Sultan here. I am Nadra, her handmaiden since childhood."

"I am Bahadur, warrior and one of the crew of the ship Farris, captained by Afzal who is brother to my lo ... my companion, Fahim."

"How did he come to be so punished?" Dalal asked seeing the cruel welts on the beautiful young man's back as Bahadur positioned him on his side.

"He bore my punishment because I resisted being collared as a slave by Hashim when both Fahim and I are free men," Bahadur replied angrily. "I do not pretend to understand what is happening. Is it lawful here to make slaves of free men?"

"No. No it is not," Dalal replied vehemently. "Whilst my personal physician attends your ... your friend, I will explain what has happened to my Kingdom. Nadra, can you get Faysal here?"

"I shall take a short cut, my Lady," Nadra grinned, heading to the balcony.

Bahadur watched as the slender Princess stood out on the balcony watching Nadra vanish from sight, and then turned his attention to the dazed Fahim who was trying to stir.

"Lie still, beloved," he urged. "You will soon be attended by a healer."

"Bahadur? Where are we?" Fahim's voice was weak but lucid.

"In a Princess' bedchamber, my love," Bahadur smiled gently. "I hope to get some answers soon and perhaps a way to be free of this place."

"I love you, Bahadur," Fahim murmured as he nestled closer to his mate's large body. He felt a strong hand stroke his hair and he let his eyes close. His back ached and his head pounded, but things seemed easier to bear with Bahadur close.

It took but a few moments before Bahadur glanced up from petting Fahim as a breathless Nadra re-entered the unique way she had left.

"Faysal will come quickly," she said with a grin. "He is pleased you would still turn to him."

The two women headed towards the outer room, talking as if alone.

"I have been such a fool," the Princess sighed.

A moment later and a loud rap to the door had both women turning towards it.

"Stay with your young man," Nadra said to Bahadur, as she hurried to take her place at Dalal's side. She was proud at the way the younger woman composed herself to stand tall and proud, blocking both entrance to and view of her inner room. She stepped aside to allow Faysal to bustle past, carrying his medicines, but stood fast as she saw the Prince storming angrily towards her quarters.

"Hashim tells me you undermined his authority and have allowed dangerous men refuge up here."

The Princess gazed calmly into eyes that were darkened with anger.

"I have taken responsibility for one ill young man that Faysal currently attends and who was brought here by his companion who appeared, to me, to be one of Hashim's own combatants. Are you saying that these fighters are not to be trusted?"

"That was not what I meant," the Prince said, clearly flustered by the hitherto acquiescent Princess challenging him.

"I will send the warrior back to Hashim once his companion has been treated by Faysal. This *is* still my father's palace and I am capable of making my own decisions, Prince Mahfuz. I have my handmaiden and my physician to chaperone me and *your* men, who you say are more trustworthy, to guard me. How can there be a problem?"

"You are right, of course, Princess," Mahfuz replied condescendingly, bowing low, his face in a supercilious smirk. He nodded to his men.

"You will keep careful watch over the Princess," he said to them.

At that moment it seemed to Dalal that she finally saw Mahfuz for what he was. The words were not those of a concerned man for his betrothed, but a warning to the men to prevent her acting so independently a second time. He had not taken her workload from her shoulders to help her, but had instead disempowered her, her bodyguards were no more than jailors and what she once had thought attentiveness was actually obsequiousness. She swallowed as bile rose in her throat at the smile, which held no affection for her, on Mahfuz's lips. She returned it with one she hoped looked sincere.

"Then it is settled," she declared. She felt Nadra shift her stance as Mahfuz's gaze tried to penetrate into her room. "Please ensure that Hashim understands that the warrior and his companion are under my protection and not to be punished in any way."

With a look in his eyes that almost had Dalal shudder with revulsion, the Prince gave a curt nod and strode away. As they closed the door behind them both women leant heavily against it, the Princess especially needing a moment to recover and process all that had happened. She moved unthinkingly towards the archway and gazed at the tableau before her. The warrior was on his knees at the side of the bed, holding to the young man's hand and murmuring a soothing litany of encouragements, as Faysal cleansed his back.

"The warrior's love is evident in his eyes, his words, his touch," Dalal said sadly. "When I think back on it, I have never been the recipient of such devotion from Mahfuz. How could I ever have thought he loved me?"

"You were raised to accept he was the man you would marry," Nadra shrugged. "You have never been given the opportunity to know what falling in love feels like. We need to act, Princess. I have a plan when the warrior is ready to come and listen."

Bahadur heard Nadra's words and looked up from his post.

"The worst is over, Bahadur," Faysal smiled gently. "I am sure Fahim will not mind if you go and speak with the Princess."

"I am fine, love," Fahim smiled. "I want to go home, Bahadur," he added in a whisper.

"Soon, my beloved," Bahadur nodded. He brought Fahim's hand to his lips and tenderly kissed the knuckles. 

Bahadur listened to the Princess as she told her tale. Of Mahfuz assuming her authority, her enforced isolation, the Prince's physician treating the Sultan who, although not deteriorating, was always sleeping when she tried to visit and of how Mahfuz now sought them to marry without further delay.

"I have a plan," Nadra said eagerly. "I know where there are old passageways that lead outside the palace. If you go through them you can reach the city and seek out my uncle Nadir and tell him what's happened. He is sure to have a plan to help us."

"No, Nadra, I cannot go," Bahadur said gently, holding up his hand to prevent the determined woman from trying to argue. "Firstly, I cannot leave my heart," he said, glancing back towards Fahim. "Secondly, if I were to disappear, the Prince would know your Princess had a hand in it and I do not know what punishments she and Fahim may face. Better we keep the Prince ignorant that his hypocrisy and deceit have been recognised. I have a better idea. *You* go through the tunnels. Your uncle will listen to you without question. Additionally, Fahim's brother Afzal will be searching for us. He has a crew of men trained in combat. You have said the Prince has few men here. If you lead Afzal and some men back through the passages, others could to go to the gates with regular townsfolk. Mahfuz will probably supplement his own men with those from inside the palace if he thinks the gates are threatened. Once back inside the palace, you can speak to the men loyal to the Princess. There will be more than enough palace guards to deal with the Prince's men."

"I think the warrior is right, Nadra," Dalal said. "He is expected back by Hashim and I have given my word to return him."

"I will be safe enough. I am to be part of this afternoon's entertainment for the visiting royalty."

"I knew nothing of this," the Princess spluttered angrily. "He arranges visits from other Princes as though this is his palace?"

"It would seem so, my Lady," Bahadur said, smiling at the fury in the young woman's entire demeanour.

"I will get ready to leave immediately," Nadra said.

"Bahadur, a moment if you please?" Faysal's gentle voice had all three turning and moving towards the elderly physician. A small cup was in his hand and he could see the suspicion in the warrior's eyes. "It is just a mild sleeping draught," Faysal explained, answering the question before it could be asked. "Fahim is already much better from simple rest and drinking fresh, clean water. However, he needs some rest. This would make him sleep for just a couple of hours whilst his body gains strength. However, he insists that when you leave these rooms, he is leaving with you."

Bahadur smiled. That sounded exactly like the determined Fahim he knew so well. He stepped through the archway, unaware of three pairs of eyes that watched. His eyes devoured the sight before him. *This* was the setting in which he should have been able to deflower his innocent. 

Fahim sat up in the bed, surrounded by cream and pink silks and satins that enhanced the colour of his copper skin. He held a sheet to his chest, but where one large, dark, delicious disc was obscured, the other was tantalisingly displayed. Bahadur could not help his tongue snaking out to lick his lips and as it did, he saw Fahim's eyes widen. He smiled, letting all his love, passion and desire be seen by his young lover.

Fahim sat, his chin taking on the tilt that spoke of stubbornness. He would not allow his mate to face Hashim alone. Whatever fate Bahadur met at the hands of their jailor, he was determined to meet it with him. He looked up as his lover entered the bedchamber and his eyes widened at the look in Bahadur's cerulean depths. He did not even notice as the sheet slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers to slither sinuously and pool at his hips.

As Bahadur sat next to Fahim, he heard Faysal usher the women back into the outer room and then put them from his mind, focused only on the precious young man before him. 

"I ... I will not leave you," Fahim said, his voice suddenly thick.

"You will drink this and rest here," Bahadur countered, his voice darker and deeper than Fahim had ever heard it. The aural caress sent frissons throughout his lithe frame. "I am a necessary part of the afternoon's entertainment and I am under Princess Dalal's protection, as are you." As the warrior spoke, his free hand stroked the silk clad thigh of his mate, enjoying the feel of hard muscle under the soft cloth. "Nadra is going to bring Afzal here. And once this is behind us..." Bahadur leant forward and captured Fahim's mouth. His tongue ruthlessly pillaged the warm, wet cavern, expertly capturing Fahim's shyer muscle to suck into his own mouth. "I made you promises that I wish to keep and so need you to rest and regain your strength."

Fahim's moan was one of acquiescence and both men knew it. He took the cup from Bahadur and drank it quickly, grimacing at the bitter taste. He gave his mate a grateful look as he followed the potion with a drink of fresh water. As soon as he had drunk, Bahadur's mouth was on his once more. He was positioned on his side and his lover was kissing him over and over, each one a promise of the pleasure to come.




Arabian Knights



"I hold you to everything you said," Fahim panted, his eyes of scorching sienna locking with Bahadur's of smouldering sapphire.

"It will be my pleasure and my privilege," the warrior vowed. His hand slid to cup Fahim's sex and he took the lush, kiss-swollen lips once more. However, he could feel his lover's reactions slowing and knew the draught was taking effect.

"Sleep well, my beloved," he whispered tenderly.

"Be safe," Fahim murmured, trying to open his eyes to look one last time at the adored visage.

Bahadur did not move until certain Fahim had succumbed to sleep, kissed his lover's temple softly and then made his way into the outer chamber.

"Fahim sleeps, Princess," he said. "I beg you to keep him safe."

"Not even Mahfuz would be stupid enough to attempt to enter these chambers," Faysal said. "He is moving slowly, not wanting to alert the Princess to his insidious machinations. Some of her ministers believe he has her blessing, and the Sultan's, and acts on their behalf. Others simply acquiesce to him to gain favour and some are covertly suspicious. I fear for the Sultan's life should Dalal agree to marry him ahead of the agreed day. Each week he brings a few more of his men, but we still have more than enough to deal with him as you suggested."

"You are both under my personal protection," Dalal said. "I will ensure your beloved comes to no harm here."

"In that case, I must return to Hashim as you agreed, my Lady," Bahadur said, giving a last, longing glance towards where Fahim slept.

"Wait," Dalal said. She removed a distinctive bangle from her wrist and placed it on the warrior's and smiled as Nadra handed her a scarf of cream silk to tie at the warrior's right biceps. "You will tell him I have chosen you as my personal favourite for these games and that I expect to hear of your success. I swear I will not leave Fahim here alone."

"Thank you, Princess," Bahadur said, raising her hand to his lips.

****

Nadra made her move after Bahadur had left, leaving the Princess, and the peacefully sleeping Fahim, in Faysal's care. The physician still held respect at the Sultan's court and, on her return with Afzal and his men, he was going to speak to the ministers that he knew would listen and act. Nadra gave a grim smile. It would not be long now before the detested Prince, and those who had become his sycophants at court, would be revealed for what they were and removed. She bit back a scream as a large rat ran across her path. The tunnels had shrunk so she now crawled on her hands and knees, keeping her torch in a tight grip. She shuddered as unseen insects crawled over her legs. However, she had no intentions of failing Dalal or the men who depended upon her.

Espying light ahead, she hurried forward to emerge filthy but triumphant some distance from the palace. Dousing her torch's flame she began to run towards her uncle's inn.

****

Afzal and his men listened to Nadir and were now huddled together trying to formulate a plan to enter the palace. They looked up as a dirty and dishevelled young woman rushed into the inn calling for Nadir. Within moments she had been taken to speak to Afzal.

Nadra had thought the warrior handsome, but he paled into comparison to the Captain of the Farris. Nadra could not remember being as shy before a man as she recounted her tale. However, when she spoke of Fahim's whipping, she silently prayed that she never angered Afzal. His countenance darkened with fury and his eyes became as cold as jet. Nadra continued with her story, giving her attentive audience the warrior's suggestion for getting into the palace. 

"It is a good plan," Afzal nodded.

"Some of my nephews are amongst the palace guard," Nadir said. "It explains why the guards are not allowed outside. If they had known what the Prince was doing they would have acted sooner."

"Then you must be part of the delegation that goes to the palace gates," Afzal said. "Your voice would be heeded. I will take a small group into the palace. Once we can bring the Princess before her guards and ministers to denounce Mahfuz the battle will be over before it can begin." Afzal muttered quickly to his men and smiled as Rabi raced away. Then he turned to Nadra and gave her a genuine smile.

Nadra felt she was melting from the heat as Afzal turned a fiery gaze upon her.

"I owe you thanks for being so brave. I hope to find a way to repay you when all this is over."

"You are welcome, Captain," Nadra said breathlessly. When had she become so unsophisticated before a man? "Uncle Nadir, may I go and clean up?" Nadra needed to go and regain her composure and prepare for what was yet to come. As she scurried upstairs into her Uncle's private quarters, she sent a prayer that there would be little bloodshed.

****

Dalal and Faysal stared fearfully towards the door of the chamber at the sounds of fighting just outside. Faysal pushed the Princess behind him as the doors were flung open and a small group of armed men stood as their leader stepped forward, sketching an elaborate bow.

"I am Afzal, Captain of the Farris and brother to Fahim. Do I have the pleasure of addressing Princess Dalal?"

For a moment, Dalal felt as though her tongue had melded to the roof of her mouth. She swallowed as she stepped from behind Faysal, trying to look regal, desirable and confident all at once.

"I am Princess Dalal," she said. She heard the breathless sound to her voice and gave her best smile.

"We are here to help you regain your rightful place and to rescue my brother and Bahadur. I believe you have Fahim safe here."

"He is in my bedchamber," Dalal said, sweeping her hand in an elegant manoeuvre to indicate where the young man slept.

"Fahim!" Afzal shouted his brother's name as he reached the archway, unaware that Dalal dogged his steps.

The princess watched enviously as the dashing Captain moved to envelop his brother in a tight embrace. She saw the grimace of pain on the younger man's face and then Afzal was moving to examine the welts on his brother's back. Dalal was unable to suppress the shudder at the look of cold fury on Afzal's face.

"Give them a moment's privacy, Princess." The voice was not Faysal's and she whirled angrily. However, at the look from her physician from across the room, she reluctantly obeyed.

"Please do not be angry with Bahadur," Fahim pleaded as he looked at his brother's anger-filled countenance.

"The warrior did not beat you why would he incur my wrath?" Afzal asked, genuinely puzzled.

"I took the whipping in his stead. They had already beaten him and I could not bear to see him hurt more. We love each other, Afzal."

"I am glad for you both," Afzal said softly. Carefully he gathered his brother into his arms, his heart rejoicing both to have the precious young man safe and to hear Fahim's love was finally returned.

"When we return to the Farris, may we have your blessing, both as my brother and as Captain?" Fahim asked, his head comfortably ensconced against Afzal's shoulder. He murmured a soft sound of contentment as Afzal dropped a kiss into his hair as he had done since Fahim was old enough to remember.

"You may indeed," Afzal smiled. "But now we have a scheming Prince to rout and Bahadur to find. And I have a personal score to settle with one by the name of Hashim."

"I am coming with you," Fahim said determinedly, reaching for his pants as Afzal stood.

The older man saw the tilt of the chin and knew it would be a waste of his breath to try and argue. In addition, he had to confess that he would prefer to have his brother close by him. He gave a nod and received a genuine smile in return. As they entered the outer room, Fahim was greeted warmly by the other men and Rafiq passed him a small dagger which he slipped into a pocket.

"Princess Dalal says that Mahfuz will be watching his games in the main courtyard," Rafiq said. "By now Nadir will have the people at the gates demanding to see him and Nadra should have been passing word around the palace guard. We are ready to make our move."

"Let us end this villainy," Afzal said, and smiled at the rousing shout from his men.

"I will seek out the ministers on whom we can rely and have them prepared," Faysal said. "If you can spare me one of your men, I will then go to the Sultan's bedchamber. Mahfuz has but one man stationed there."

Afzal sent Rabi to accompany Faysal. He then strode purposefully through the palace whilst the Princess walked proudly at his side. Fahim and the rest of his men trailed in their wake. As they hurried along the corridors, Fahim hesitated a moment, seeing something he felt would be advantageous, then quickly caught up with the others.

****

Bahadur moved with grace and strength as he mock-battled a Roman gladiator, his saifs whirling and glinting as he moved. He disarmed the other man, sending the trident his opponent had wielded flying and the man dropped to his knees in defeat. The loud cheers of the crowd meant nothing to the warrior. He glowered at Hashim who simply grinned back. 

He had been redressed since his reluctant return to their keeper. The gladiatorial kilt had been replaced with little more than a tiny leather one and his chest had a leather harness that emphasised his pectorals. A pair of sandals with leather ties criss-crossed his legs to his knees. His appearance had been well received and Hashim had personally oiled his body before sending him out. Hashim's hands touching him where, as yet, he was to feel Fahim's hand had both angered and humiliated the warrior and Hashim had known it and moved with deliberate slowness.

There was a sudden commotion in the crowd and Bahadur's attention was instantly diverted as he recognised a confident and commanding voice echo around the gathered audience.

"Prince Mahfuz, you have attempted to take control of this kingdom by stealth. You have kept the Princess Dalal away from her ministers and her people and usurped her authority. She now commands you lay down any weapons you have and any here who are loyal to you to do likewise. I have men inside and outside the palace and have secured the Sultan's safety. If any doubt the truth of my words, here is the Princess herself."

Afzal gave a theatrical bow as Dalal moved forward, a loud buzzing coming from the gathered visiting royal dignitaries.

"You have heard the words of Captain Afzal. My guards are reclaiming control of the palace as we speak. I urge all in Price Mahfuz's employ to heed him and do as he directs."

Bahadur grinned and turned towards Hashim and instantly threw himself into a roll, attempting to rise on his feet with his saifs raised. The other man had lunged with his scimitar, clearly intending to fight his way out of the palace. Bahadur cursed as the ties of his unfamiliar sandals entwined with net of the gladiator he has just bested, preventing him from rising. The sound of metal on metal rang out as, despite his entrapped legs, Bahadur demonstrated the mastery of his swordsmanship and parried blow after blow from the enraged Hashim.

Then a spear intercepted Hashim's sword and the older man turned to face Fahim. His face betrayed shock, cunning and malice.

"You dare to challenge me, boy?" Hashim rasped. "I will deal with you and then kill your precious warrior."

As Hashim and Fahim fought, Bahadur cut desperately at the net binding his legs. His beloved wielded his weapon well, but the warrior knew the younger man would still be weak and sore. Glancing up, he could see the same thought had occurred to Hashim and the older man was using brute strength to wear Fahim down. The warrior's movements sped up as he shredded the net to surge to his feet. 

He was not fast enough.

He heard a pained cry as Hashim brutally drove his elbow into Fahim's still tender back and the younger man dropped his spear. Hashim moved fast to wrap a hard arm across Fahim's throat, forcing the smaller man up and onto his toes and placed his sword against the fragile, unprotected flesh of his abdomen.

"There is nowhere for you to run to, Hashim," Bahadur said desperately. "Your Prince has surrendered. Lay down your sword and end this."

"I will not give up so easily. You wear the Princess' favours. Use them. Get me out of the palace and I will release your boy."

Fahim tried to push the sword-arm away from his body. He did not trust Hashim. If the man took him from the palace he would be at Hashim's mercy and Fahim was certain the older man did not know the meaning of the word. His left arm dropped from trying to pull away the limb restricting his air. He let his legs and body go limp, forcing Hashim to change his stance. Praying for success, Fahim stabbed with the small dagger concealed in his voluminous pants and pushed away the arm holding the sword against him. He flung himself into Bahadur's waiting arms.

Spittle foamed at Hashim's mouth and his eyes glinted with madness. Uncontrolled fury possessed him as he raised his scimitar only for it to clash with another. Hashim glared at the stranger and then his eyes flitted quickly to where Fahim peeked around the solid body of his lover.

"Yes, his is indeed my brother; a most beloved baby brother who was tortured at your hand. You may put up your arms if you wish. Personally I hope you choose to fight, no one harms Fahim with impunity."

Fahim watched in fear as Hashim screamed in maniacal rage and attacked Afzal. He held tightly to Bahadur's body as his brother's sword clashed again and again with Hashim's. Even though he knew how good a swordsman Afzal was, the young man was still afraid for the brother he loved. This was a fight between the two men that would only have one winner. He tried to suppress the whimper of distress as Hashim seemed able to press Afzal back, the younger man giving ground as Hashim's weapon sang through the air. Then Afzal moved. Fast. Hard. His own sword singing in fury until, with a deft flick of his wrist, Hashim's weapon flew into the air and the older man was impaled upon Afzal's scimitar.

"Afzal," Fahim cried, flinging himself into his brother's arms. 

"As much as I wish he had died at my hand, I cannot begrudge your vengeance, Afzal," Bahadur said as he came to stand by the brothers, staring dispassionately at the body before them.

"Fahim spoke to me of love," Afzal said, gazing at the warrior as he kept Fahim in the circle of his arms.

"I have declared my love to Fahim and been blessed with his in return. I am only sorry we could not seek your approval. There were ... fears ... regarding Fahim's safety in Hashim's presence."

Afzal understood the meaning behind the words and hugged his brother tighter before slowly releasing him.

"You have both had my approval since I saw that you were meant to be," he smiled. "Fahim has asked for my blessing as brother and Captain and you have both. Once we are back aboard Farris, I will have a public ceremony to show you are mated. For now," he held out Fahim's hand to Bahadur. "I give the safety and well-being of Fahim into your hands, Bahadur. Do not fail me."

"Never," Bahadur vowed, as he accepted the small hand and then drew Fahim into his own tight embrace.

Afzal looked around and smiled and nodded. All was well.

****

A contented smile was on Bahadur's lips as he added the final touches to the bath he had prepared; a scattering of rose petals. Satisfied he made his way into the main bedchamber where there hung some dimly-lit lamps, candles as well as an incense burner that scented the room with rose. A sumptuous bed, draped in pink and cream silks and red satin pillows took pride of place and a small fire added a warm, ambient glow. He had craved his beloved's indulgence to be allowed to leave the party the Sultan had thrown a little earlier than Fahim.

The previous day, they had assisted the Princess regain control of the palace. The Sultan was no longer ill; he was simply being kept drugged by Mahfuz's physician. Time seemed to fly past as things had slowly been put right and arrangements made for the disgraced Prince to be dealt with when the Sultan was more capable. By the time evening had fallen, Fahim was exhausted and they had simply fallen asleep fully dressed in a room shared with Afzal. Tonight, however, was the night Bahadur made good his promises. Afzal and the rest of the men had remained to enjoy the Sultan's hospitality. All Bahadur wished to enjoy was Fahim's precious body. He gave a smile as his lover announced his arrival with a knock to the door before opening it to peer anxiously inside.

"May I enter, Bahadur?" Fahim asked.

"Of course, beloved," the warrior smiled indulgently, as Fahim stood and stared entranced at the room.

"It is beautiful," Fahim murmured.

"But not as beautiful as you," Bahadur said, pulling the slender young man into his embrace and drinking his fill of Fahim's sweetness from his lips until his lover was almost limp. He swept Fahim effortlessly into his arms to panting laughter and the men kissed tenderly as Bahadur carried his precious bundle into the bath room. Slowly ...reverently ... Bahadur unveiled his living treasure. None of the grateful Sultan's jewels compared to the gold of Fahim's skin, or the diamonds that sparkled in his eyes, or the ruby red of his luscious lips. Bahadur assisted his denuded mate into the warm, fragrant water.

"Are you not joining me?" Fahim asked. 

It had been Bahadur's intention to simply bathe his beloved but, at the yearning look in Fahim's eyes, he began to strip. He made a show of unveiling his own body, turning, posing and preening before his more and more delighted mate. Finally he sank into the bath behind Fahim and guided the smaller man to lie against his chest. 

In this position he could indulge Fahim with the kisses the younger man seemed addicted to whilst indulging himself in touching his lover freely. He stroked across Fahim's chest, fondling the large, dark discs, until the cinnamon nubs were hard and tight. He ran his hands down Fahim's body to dip into the wiry curls that guarded an already engorged shaft.

"Bahadur," Fahim groaned, as a powerful hand began a slow, firm slide up and down his aching manhood. "I do not think I can last."

"Relax, beloved. The advantage of youth includes swift recuperative powers. If you spill now, I can fulfil my promise to taste you ... all of you." Bahadur's voice was a midnight silk caress of his lover's ear and had the desired effect. As he spoke the last three words, he twisted his wrist and flicked his thumb over the leaking tip of Fahim's penis. Fahim tensed, arched and cried aloud Bahadur's name as he shuddered through his release. The warrior murmured his encouragement, milking Fahim of his seed, leaving a sated young man in the wake of his climax. 

Bahadur urged his love to rise and they dried each other, the warrior revelling in the shy, intimate touches from his mate. Hand-in-hand they walked to the large bed, the older man feeling the frisson in the younger, as they moved to lie together, finally fully naked and able to see, to touch, to taste in comfort and safety. It seemed but seconds as they indulged in kissing that Fahim's sex began to revive. Bahadur used a single finger to run along the underside of the young man's refilling sex, brushing it against the sensitive vein with painstaking care. Fahim mewled, his eyelids fluttering. 

Remembering his promise, the older man began to anoint his lover with his tongue tracing and tasting the hidden sweetness of Fahim's body. He paid homage to the cinnamon nubs before teasing the delectable navel. He took Fahim in his mouth, carefully probing at the weeping tip, tasting his mate's nectar. Then lower to lave the smooth sac. Once he had completed his ministrations on the front of Fahim's body, Bahadur urged his mate onto his stomach. He fussed over pillows, ensuring Fahim was comfortable and that he had the access to his mate's body that he desired. 




Arabian Knights



He tenderly kissed every mark that still blighted Fahim's injured back; however he was both pleased and relieved to see they were all healing well. When he finally reached the soft, peachy mounds, he purred his pleasure. He kissed each in turn before allowing his tongue to glide over them, moving slowly but inexorably to his lover's core. He growled approvingly at the moans and thrusting movements of the smaller man. His large hands palmed each golden globe and parted them gently; giving him access to the young man's opening. He stared at it, small, pink and as perfect as his lover and blew gently across it. His mind knew only one thing to bury his agile muscle into the tight body beneath him. He whispered softly, his breath barely caressing the tiny opening.

"Relax, my beloved," he crooned.

Bahadur brushed his tongue against the puckered flesh and heard a faint sob of ecstasy. The warrior pressed forward and teased the fluttering aperture with his tongue. Then he lapped around it, pushing inside with infinite care to bestow soft, searching licks. Beneath him, Fahim was whimpering softly, his body as taut as a bowstring. Bahadur could feel his lover's hips pushing rhythmically into the strategically placed pillows. He smiled and hummed his approval and pleasure as he continued to lap at Fahim's sweetness. It gave him joy to finally be able to bring his beloved so much pleasure. For long minutes his tongue thrust eagerly inside velvet heat to slicken and stretch the almost-virginal walls.

Placing a final kiss to the intimate flesh, Bahadur encouraged the shaking young man to lie on his back. He spread the long, smooth limbs wide, kneeling between them. He smiled as Fahim's eyes watched avidly as he poured rose-scented oil into his hand and began to warm it. 

"May I, my sweet one?" Bahadur asked, as he stretched out to hover at the saliva-slick opening.

"Yes. Oh, Bahadur, yes, please, please," Fahim begged.

It was so different from their first, fearful, frantic coupling and Fahim's body ached to join with its mate. He gave a sound that was part gasp and part groan as his lover's finger slid inside him. This time there was only pleasure as Bahadur worked tenderly to stretch him. When the older man's finger touched the magical spot inside him, Fahim saw stars swirl before his eyes and he mewled his delight.

Bahadur revelled in the sweet music of Fahim's increasing pleasure and arousal. It seemed to set his blood ablaze with a burning desire to play the smaller man's body until it reached its climactic crescendo. However, to do that...

"Fahim," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "May I be inside you?"

"Yes, my love," Fahim replied dreamily.

Bahadur laced Fahim's legs behind him as he leant to place the head of his engorged sex at the portal that promised ecstasy. 

"I love you," he whispered as he pushed inside. He groaned at the feel of the blood-hot channel that enveloped his eager flesh. It rippled erotically around every millimetre of his manhood, threatening to make him spill before he had chance to pleasure Fahim. With determined fortitude he held still, letting Fahim become accustomed to the fullness he knew his organ would bring his lover and to quell the imminent orgasm he could feel within himself. Bahadur felt Fahim breathe deeply as the slighter man slowly accommodated the impressive flesh that impaled him.

"I have you, Bahadur," he whispered. "I have you."

"Now and forever," the warrior vowed.

Bahadur's lips connected with Fahim's and the smaller man concentrated on the feeling of the warm, soft flesh, of the tenderness of the touch. His lover was large and for all the careful and tender preparation, his body had still tensed and was still a little uncomfortable. He found himself opening his lips and he sighed as the older man's tongue entered him. Fahim relaxed as Bahadur continued to kiss him lovingly. The young man's hands, fluttering over a broad back, powerful shoulder and strong neck, at last came upon the tie restraining the warrior's hair. It occurred to Fahim that he had never seen his mate's hair loose. Focusing upon that task, Fahim body relaxed even more and he gave a sound of pleasure as the dark mane fell free like a silken curtain to frame Bahadur's face.

The warrior felt small hands working at his head and then card lovingly through his hair. He slowly ended the kiss, sucking on Fahim's lower lip for a few seconds.

"Will you allow me to make love to you?" Bahadur asked as he gave an experimental thrust of his hips.

Fahim mewled as his lover's flesh brushed the jewel inside him. 

"Yes ... please..." he moaned.

"Let me show you heaven, my beloved," Bahadur rasped. He began a slow rhythm, sliding in and out with fluid, shallow strokes. He heard his lover whimper which encouraged him. He changed his angle a little and increased his pace incrementally.

Fahim saw the stars whirl above him as his lover moved inside him. He had never known his body was capable of such profound rapture. Fahim knew it was only this man who could ever make him feel this way. Fahim heard his sob of pleasure in harmony with a groan of delight from Bahadur. He rocked his hips instinctively in time with the rhythm his lover set. He let out a wanton moan when his begging flesh was enveloped in a strong grip.

Bahadur repeated the movements that dragged his hardness over Fahim's jewel on each stroke. He could feel his lover's neglected erection pushing against his belly as he continued to rock in and out of the younger man's body. Each motion drew ever more impassioned cries. He reached between them and took Fahim's weeping shaft in his hand, pumping it in time with the rhythm of his hips. 

He groaned, feeling his lover's reaction immediately. The walls of the tight, hot channel were squeezing him with sublime heat and pressure. He wanted to do this forever, to feel his beloved's body surround him; hear his cries of arousal and joy. He pulled Fahim higher onto his thighs, the wiry curls of his groin brushed against silky smooth skin. The change in position allowed him to bury himself even more deeply into the smaller man's searing tightness.

Fahim cried out, his hands reaching for Bahadur to pull him down and seal their mouths together, their tongues mating as desperately, as lovingly, as their bodies. The pace of their lovemaking increased, each man seeking to give the greatest pleasure to the other. 

Bahadur groaned his delight. He could never get enough of the beautiful body writhing beneath him. Not in a lifetime, not in ten lifetimes. He worked the hard flesh in his hand. It only took another few strokes and he felt Fahim tense and the velvety walls that enclosed his flesh contracted. A cry of his name coincided with pearlescent seed flowing over his hand and between their sweat-slick bodies. As the channel began to milk his own living essence from his rampant sex, Bahadur threw back his head and roared, proclaiming his pleasure, his passion, and his possession.

Fahim felt his climax gather pace and then he was tumbling through the stars he had seen into an unending abyss of pure bliss. He heard the bellow from his lover as hot juices filled his body and Fahim moaned his approval.

It took long moments before either man was capable of doing anything other than lie and languorously loll in the afterglow of their shared release. Slowly, carefully, Bahadur slipped reluctantly from the sanctuary of his lover's body. He rolled to the side and gathered the satiated young man into his arms.

For long moments they traded loving touches and gentle kisses, letting their bodies give in to the lure of post-coital lethargy.

"Sleep well, my beloved. I love you," his whispered into the fragrant tresses.

"Love you, Bahadur," Fahim forced past lips that seemed almost incapable of motion. He used the last of his energy to nestle as close as possible and sank luxuriously into replete sleep.

****

Afzal stared out from the balcony of the palace. From this room, the sea was a silvery line caressed by the moon. They would be sailing on the tide tomorrow and he would not be sad to leave this place. He knew his brother and his lover would be creating new memories for themselves and he smiled. He palmed a small box with the dexterity of a magician and looked once more at its contents. Whilst the Sultan had been generous in his rewards, presenting them with gold, jewels and precious spices, Afzal had spoken to him privately and been presented with the two special rings that met his request perfectly. One was a thick, plain gold band that he knew the warrior would wear and the other was smaller, thinner and set with two sapphires. He was certain that Fahim would be more than happy with it.

He smiled as his memories drifted over the times he had spent with his brother. He intended to let both Fahim and Bahadur know they were welcome in his cabin at any time. He would miss sharing the room with Fahim, something he had done since his brother's birth. He would also miss being the first the young man always turned to, but rejoiced in the love the two men had found. His smile widened at the thought of his baby brother being a married man. 

The smile became a laugh as he remembered the look of horror the Sultan had been slow to hide as Princess Dalal had coyly asked about Afzal and a wife. He had answered honestly that he was wedded to the sea and another laugh bubbled free as he remembered her look of disappointment coupled with the Sultan's obvious relief. Afzal knew he was not ready for marriage, or to give up the sea. He had therefore mentioned a Caliph he was visiting, that was a good and benevolent ruler, and who had been blessed with seven good, strong sons. He knew at least three, possibly four were unattached. He had then been smiled at happily by the Sultan and, when they sailed, he had a cargo of silks and spices for the Caliph and Afzal was happy to petition his friend on behalf of the grateful Sultan.

A tap at his door had him replace the box into its place of safekeeping and stride over to it. He smiled wolfishly at Nadra as she stood blushing before scurrying inside and heading into Afzal's bedchamber. The handmaiden knew and accepted all that Afzal could offer her was the moment; the here and now and it was enough. He slipped off his vest and shirt as he followed in her footsteps. The life of a Prince was not for him, he relished his freedom too much. He glanced once more at the balcony as he headed to the bedchamber. Tomorrow was a new day with new adventures that beckoned to him. Tonight Fahim and Bahadur would celebrate their love their way and he would celebrate with them in his. He was still smiling as he took Nadra into his arms.