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Voyage of the Tunisian Rose

By: EricCalder



1798, Tunis

The quarter boat pressed against the quay with a harder than usual thud. The English sailors jumped up and lifted out the two sea chests even before Lieutenants Edward Hamilton and James Wray stood up. The baggage was quickly deposited on the quay and within less than a minute the coxswain was yelling for them to shove off. The boat was soon pulling back into the harbor, the six oars working together with expert precision, as it returned to the English frigate Constance, leaving Hamilton and Wray standing next to their sea chests.

"I always wanted to come to Tunis," Hamilton said sarcastically.

"Yes, you often spoke of it," Wray answered sarcastically. Then he stopped and looked around. "What in God's name is that smell?"

"Galleys." Hamilton pointed several hundred yards away at a dozen of Corsair raiding galleys. "I don't think they've let the poor wretches off the benches for months."

The harbor was crowded with ships large and small. Most were small feluccas or costal luggers with one or two sails and a fore-and-aft rig, but there were also Spanish xebecs with racked masts, polaccas, and a captured French chasse-marée. The oared ships, both small galliots and larger raiding galleys were pulled up on the beach, while the Ottoman ships built along European lines were anchored off shore. Those naval vessels, sloops, frigates and several small sail of the line, would not have looked out of place with the English fleet at anchor off Spithead.

Hamilton and Wray walked a few yards from the quay, looking around at the bustling street of shops, beggars and street sellers, but staying close to their baggage. Horses in elegant finery were being walked slowly in one direction, as heavy carts were pulled by people in the other. It was a loud, bright, chaotic place and no one seemed to be paying any attention to the two English naval officers in their blue uniforms, white breeches with silk stockings and high, cocked hats.

"I confess, James, I have not the slightest notion as to why a pair of junior lieutenants were sent for this diplomatic mission," Hamilton said, looking at the warships. 

"I just hope the factor arrives soon, its bloody hot standing out here," Wray said. He paused as he glanced towards the English frigate that had brought them. "I see Captain Sanders doesn't waste time, the Constance is hauling her anchor cables."

Hamilton didn't answer.

"Edward, did you hear me -- oh, my." 

Both men watched as a path mysteriously appeared in the crowd as people stepped out of the way to allow a squad of elaborately dressed soldiers to march to the quay. The soldiers wore bright baggy Ottoman style clothes and tall hats which included a narrow band of silk across their face, and each was armed with a large saber, daggers of various sizes and a heavy musket. The soldiers themselves suddenly stepped to one side and stood at attention, making way for women.

There were eight woman, all beautiful and all nearly naked, each positioned to hold the rails of a sedan chair. Each was dressed in a light silk wrapping that covered her hips and nothing else, as well as a wooden mask, curiously unadorned compared to the complexity of the styling on the chair. The eight women came to a halt a few yards from the naval officers and slowly lowered the chair to the ground.

"The heat be damned, Edward, I think I'm going to like it here," Wray muttered. Hamilton stifled a laugh.

The sedan chair opened and a short, plump man in European dress stepped out. He reached back inside and plucked out a tricorne hat which he pressed firmly to his head.

"Ah, gentleman! Fine, yes, very fine to meet you!" the plump man said, in deeply accented English.

"Thank you, sir. I am Lieutenant Edward Hamilton and this is Lieutenant James Wray of His Britannic Majesty's service." Hamilton took off his hat and did a partial bow. Wray did the same.

"Ah, of course, yes, yes! I am Nadim bin Bekir and I am here to welcome you to Tunis." 

"I see," Hamilton replied, slowly. "Are you acquainted with the English factor?"

"Oh dear sir, I am the English factor!" The plump man laughed. He leaned in and stage whispered, "My real name is Pieter Van Schoonhoven. It makes it easier to deal with the Pasha-Bey of Tunis, if I adopt the local customs. Yes? You see my situation, hm?" 

"I understand, sir," Hamilton said, glancing at the naked women standing quietly next to the rails of the sedan chair.

"Oh that," Van Schoonhoven looked at the women and leered. "The very generous and wise Massih Bey has granted me access to some of his unique and well trained staff."

"Slaves."

"Of course! Can you blame him. And yes, he has quite a fondness for women of beauty and charm. Oh yes, as I am sure you can see, gentleman, he has very excellent taste."

"You're one of the King's Germans?" Wray said, his attention still on the topless slaves. 

"I am Dutch, sir! Circumstances have been kind! I am the English representative to the Pasha-Bey of Tunis," Van Schoonhoven then laughed. "You enjoy the sights in Tunis, Lieutenant, yes? Perhaps you would wish to take my position so that I might make a welcome return to Amsterdam."

"I fear I must decline that honor, sir," Wray said.

Van Schoonhoven laughed, then said more seriously, "if you also fear for my loyalty to your King, gentleman, then remember the Jacobins have taken over my country, yes? I would be greatly obliged if they were driven back to Paris and my country made free."

"I did not mean --"

Hamilton held up his hand, "When do we meet Masin Bey?"

"Well," Van Schoonhoven said with a sigh. "The most illustrious Masin Bey? Oh, my dear sir, we will most likely never see him."

"I am confused, sir," Hamilton said. "Our mission is to assist the Bey of Tunis in the development of a more modern naval force to prosecute the war against France from these waters."

Van Schoonhoven laughed. He reached over and put his arm around Hamilton and leaned in. "Your mission, Lieutenant is to keep Masin Bey occupied with his various projects, yes, so that his attentions do not turn to Jacobins. You understand then? Yes? Masin Bey is easily distracted, so easily distracted! Unlike his brother, I should say, the Pasha-Bey who is the true ruler of this land."

The English officers looked confused.

"Have you forgotten, sirs, that Bonaparte is in Egypt? Consider the havoc he caused in Italy! Oh yes, yes, yes, I am quite aware of how your valiant Nelson cut down his fleet. Such bravery! And yet, still, that Jacobin army remains close enough to this charming hellhole be a concern. You see my meaning, gentleman? The Pasha-Bey knows that England is where he should seek support, yes? But he is also old. Should the will of heaven taken him from this life and Masin Bey rise in his place, well, I think you see the problem!"

"If Masin Bey takes the throne he might swing this place to France?" Wray asked.

"Indeed, sir! We must make that unlikely."

"I have my orders from the Admiralty, sir," Hamilton said. "But...considering... as you are the English representative I will take your views into account."

"Excellent! Now, good sirs, let me have your baggage sent to the palace." Van Schoonhoven turned to the leading soldier. He spoke a short word in Turkish. The soldiers nodded and as the officers looked closer they could glimpse their faces through the thin silk draped in front.

The soldiers were women.

"I am Nasira bint Evranaki," the one leading the squad said, in English with far less accent than the Dutchman.

"I see. I wasn't aware... that..." Hamilton stammered. He looked at Wray who just shrugged.

"Another special detachment courtesy of Masin Bey," Van Schoonhoven explained. "These are the Kocek Kapikulu of the Janissary corps, yes, and they are quite serious as warriors. Make no mistake of that gentleman! Yes, yes, quite serious!"

Nasira ordered four of the topless slaves by the sedan chair to come forward and take the two sea chests. The others lifted the chair, now much lighter without the Dutchman inside, and followed the female soldiers as they moved back into the city.

Van Schoonhoven lead the two officers in a slightly different direction, down narrow streets, some crowded and some not, and into a low open courtyard bounded by colonnades. There were several groups of men inside, all looking over a row of twenty women connected by chains. The women had torn clothes at best and huddled together in a ragged line.

"The fruits of Masin Bey's fleet of galleys," Van Schoonhoven said as he gazed upon the women, all young and attractive. "As you can see he has a particular taste, yes? And these specimens are gentleman, oh my, yes, these pretty ones are those he rejected. They are now for public auction."

"This is monstrous!" Wray said.

Van Schoonhoven snorted. "And your countrymen grab innocent men from the streets, yes? Drag them away from their families off to serve on your ships, hm?"

"That, sir, is in the service of His Britannic Majesty. We are at war."

"And the triangle trade, sir? That is also in the service of the king?"

Wray fumed and turned away. Van Schoonhoven laughed.

"Why did you bring us here?" Hamilton asked.

"I want you to know what sort of man you are dealing with. Masin Bey surrounds himself with female slaves, yes? He has some from the far eastern orient and the wilds of Portuguese Brazil. He uses these slaves for all functions, well beyond their obvious uses, I must say." Van Schoonhoven walked over to one of the women, a petite dark haired beauty. He reached out and cupped her breasts. She froze but did not resist. "To maintain his interests in line with ours I suggest you keep all this in mind. These particular slaves are French. Note that it would be useful if Massih Bey continues to harass the enemies of His Britannic Majesty."

One of the men pointed to a lithe, dark haired woman and a guard released her from the chains. She was pushed over to a group of men who began to press their hands on her breasts and ass. They pried open her mouth and inspected her cunt. The man who pointed suddenly turned and a guard took hold of the terrified slave by the hair and dragged her along after him. She screamed, but no one took notice.

"Sampling the wares, I dare say, yes?" Van Schoonhoven said. "You gentleman are, of course, well within your rights to purchase a slave or two for your enjoyment."

There was a pause and then Hamilton said, "We should proceed to our destination, sir."

The Dutchman lead them out of the slave market and down a series of crowded streets, many covered by awnings and seemingly always walking against a tide of humans and animals.

"I do not like this fellow," Wray said, leaning into Hamilton.

"I can't say as I do either, James, but I fear we are saddled with him."

Twisting through crowded streets they made their towards the center of the city and suddenly came upon a tall, fortified wall covered with intricate geometric mosaics and the curves of Ottoman script. Nasira bint Evranaki, the female Janissary in command of the small group was waiting by the open gate. Her face, an attractive one, was easily visible through the wisp of thin cloth. 

"This is where I must part company, gentleman," Van Schoonhoven said suddenly. He made an overly elaborate bow to Nasira and then was off into the crowd.

"You will follow me," Nasira said to the naval officers.

The fortifications opened into a wide parade ground in front of a central palace several stories highs. There were several smaller building and Nasira lead them towards one. They waited for a troop of cavalry to pass and then stepped inside. The building was a rough square, with a central open courtyard ringed by a colonnade of wide arched stone. It was surprisingly quiet inside the building, and one could almost imagine being in the square of a small village. 

Nasira lead them down past a row of doors. She indicated that one room was for Lieutenant Wray. "Food will be sent to you presently." 

"Thank you," Wray replied. He looked inside and saw his sea chest and then added, "Ma'am."

"Refresh yourself, Mr. Wray, I will speak will you later," Hamilton said.

Hamilton followed Nasira as she walked further. Inside his room he could see his sea chest in the center of a modest apartment, with a small bed and a low table. The walls were plain, at least by the standards of Tunis, but still were made of elegant tiles.

"Thank you. This is most kind, and please extend our compliments to your master," Hamilton said.

Nasira nodded. Under the top of her curved hat he could see a wisp of red hair.

"And my compliments to you, as well. I must say, you speak English very well," Hamilton said.

"England has been a past enemy of the Sublime Ottoman Domains and may be so again." Nasira lifted the small, almost transparent silk from her face. "The Great Sultan is wise to have his slaves learn the ways of the infidels."

"Indeed. Very wise." Hamilton hesitated and then smiled, slightly. 

Nasira placed the silk across her face, nodded slightly, and left.

Hamilton stepped inside, dropping his hat onto the small table. He glanced at his sea chest. The small wax seals were unbroken, which seemed somewhat surprising. He opened the trunk and everything seemed to be in place. Standing up, he heard a small knock on the door.

"Enter!" he shouted, before correcting himself. "Please come in."

The door opened and a lithe, topless woman came in with a golden tray heaped with fruit around a small golden carafe of coffee. She wore only a narrow wrap of blue silk that already seemed to be falling off her hips. Thin gold jewelry adorned her wrists and neck.

"I have been ordered to serve you, master," she said in Spanish, setting the tray on the low table and then kneeling.

Hamilton sat next to her and tried to remember his rudimentary Spanish. "Thank you, madam, very much. I am --"

The slave had opened an orange and pulled out a single slice. She held it up for Hamilton, who leaned forward and took it into his mouth.

"I am most grateful. However, I am not your master."

"I have been ordered to serve you and to obey any commands you wish to make." She poured a small cup of coffee and handed it to him. "Master."

"Thank you. I am sure we can... can... come to some... uh... what is your name?"

"I am Lamesa, master. It means that I am soft to the touch."

"I see. I am, well... I am sure you are." Hamilton took a small sip of coffee and then nervously set it down. He looked down her olive skinned body, from her dark black hair and soft, brown eyes, down her small but perfectly shaped breasts, with dark areoles, smooth stomach and a trace of a dark patch between her legs under the thin silk. His gaze stopped for a moment on her thighs.

Lamesa noticed. She smiled and pulled the silk off her body, revealing a series of thin marks across her thigh. She stood up and turned around. More marks were across her ass.

Hamilton, sitting, his face inches from the soft flesh of her ass stammered and then blurted out, "You've been whipped!"

Lamesa turned around and knelt closer to him. She put her hand on his thigh. "I was used in the Pearl Room, master."

"Ah, I see... the Pearl Room?" Hamilton felt very self-conscious about his growing erection. Lamesa noticed and slid her hand over the bulge in his breeches.

"That is a place for those who enjoy whipping and binding slaves. Would you like to take me to the Pearl Room, master?"

Hamilton looked away for a moment. Then he turned towards her and grabbed her wrist pulling her arm up and away from his cock.

"Have I displeased you, master?"

"No... no, not at all, you have not displeased me Lamesa." 

She smiled and leaned in close.

Hamilton said, "Oh, hell, let me see how soft you are." His right hand went to her hair. He grabbed her and pulled her close against his body. Hamilton held her tightly as he leaned in, his lip sliding down her neck to her breasts, where he opened his mouth and sucked hard on her nipples. He still held her tight, one hand around her back holding her hair while the other kept a tight grip on her wrist. 

"Master... would you like coffee..." she said.

He let go of her hair and wrist, his lips sliding back to her neck as he held her tightly. "I would rather have you."

"It will get cold, master."

He leaned back, looking over her very beautiful face for a moment. He took a few deep breaths and then his eyes narrowed.

"Allow me to serve you," Lamesa said, reaching for the cup.

Hamilton grabbed her arm and stood up, pulling her to her feet roughly

"Oh... ahh.... master!" she pleaded in surprise.

"Perhaps you should have the coffee, Miss Lamesa."

"It is for you --"

Hamilton pushed her backwards and slapped her, hard. "You are very anxious to have me drink the coffee now. Why is that?"

"I was told to serve you, master... it is...it is something that is done... that is all," she said, holding her sore cheek.

Hamilton grabbed her hard by the hair. "You will kneel and drink it, slave."

"Please... please, master... no... I will be beaten, it is forbidden for slaves."

"I don't believe that. There is something in the coffee isn't there?"

Lamesa nodded.

Hamilton held her tightly by the hair and dragged her towards his sea chest. He kicked it open with his foot and reached in, pulling out a length of rope. He quickly wrapped it around her wrists, looping the coarse hemp multiple times up her arm before wrapping it around her waist and tying it off around her ankles. A linen napkin was used as a gag.

Hamilton left her bound and gagged in the corner and went to the door. There were a few people slowly walking across the interior courtyard, courtiers and a pair of female Janissaries, but none seemed to notice or care as Hamilton stepped out of his room and quickly walked to Wray's.

Hamilton didn't bother to knock, he opened the door and saw his friend, alone and sleeping on the low bed, one arm dangling on the floor. Wray's clothes were in disarray and it was not hard to guess what he had been doing before drinking the coffee. Hamilton returned to his room.

Lamesa looked up in fear and shook her head. Hamilton closed the door quietly. He reached down and pulled her up by the hair and dragged her to the middle of the room, forcing her down to her hands and knees. He quickly unbuckled his belt at swung hard at the beautiful slave's tender ass. 

"Mmmmmm!" Lamesa pleaded through the gag as he used the belt over and over.

"Perhaps I should take you to that Pearl Room, slave." Hamilton tossed the belt down and pulled her up to her knees. "In my country they sometimes brand those who try to lie and cheat... do they brand slaves in this Pearl Room?"

Lamesa nodded slowly, her eyes wide with fear. Hamilton reached down and pulled off the gag.

"Please, master! If I am damaged I will be sold!"

Hamilton unbuttoned his breeches and pulled them down. His cock, hard and erect, was pressed to her face. Lamesa responded at once, opening her mouth and taking the shaft deep into her throat. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading, as he grabbed her head and slammed her back and forth, fucking her face hard. Lamesa began to suck harder, her tongue sliding over and around his cock as her head as was pushed and pulled back and forth. She soon tasted precum. Hamilton slammed his cock in deep with each thrust as the pleasure grew, a pleasure that was more than simply a forced blow job, it was the pleasure that came from using a sex slave.

Lamesa felt the cum spurt into her mouth as Hamilton pressed her close. She concentrated on breathing through her nose, on swallowing and not gagging, as the cock was pressed deep in her throat. At last Hamilton pushed her back and down on the floor.


Voyage of the Tunisian Rose



"What were you supposed to do?" He asked her as fixed his pants.

"Please, please, master, I will be whipped."

"You're already going to be whipped for failing. Do you want to be whipped by me first? Now tell me, slave, what were you supposed to do?"

"I.. you would sleep with the coffee. Then I would look for papers in your trunk. And then..."

"Yes?"

"Then I would undress and be with you in the bed. Please, master, that is all!"

Hamilton paused for a moment then he reached down. He pulled her to her feet and untied her. "There are no papers of significance. A letter for the Bey, several descriptions of Tunis from others in the Royal Navy, a Guide to the Turk recommended by the Admiralty, and two novels. Nothing else. I wouldn't be stupid enough to arrive on this shore and put myself into the power of the Bey with secret documents."

"Yes. Yes, master."

"Go. Tell them whatever you wish. If I see you again you will be whipped."

"Yes, thank you, thank you, master."

Lamesa scurried out of the room.

##

Hamilton was dressed before dawn. He went out and knocked on Wray's door to find his friend only then stirring. Twenty minutes later both were both walking slowly around the colonnade around the courtyard. A few of the female Janissaries were standing together.

"I had a bit of hellion yesterday, Edward," Wray said apologetically. "I fear I spliced the mainbrace with far too much zeal."

"I've seen you drop your rum, my friend, but you faced an unequal foe this time. The coffee was spiked," Hamilton said, keeping his expression neutral and his voice conversational. "We were expecting them to go through our baggage and that was their method."

"A pretty soft method it was," Wray muttered. "I apologize, Edward. I will endeavor to be on guard the next time."

"No worries. I suspect there will not be another attempt in this fashion. I sent my serving slave out with a wallop."

"I must commend your devotion to duty, Edward," Wray laughed. "I fear my desires weathered strict diplomatic protocols."

Hamilton looked at Wray and then laughed. "Oh, I took my liberties before I sent her away."

"Aye, I noted my little darling had lash marks. She mentioned an Earl's Room."

"A Pearl Room." Hamilton nodded as a pair of elaborately dressed courtiers passed through the courtyard. "We can speculate on that place later. I think we should stay out of the rooms and give them opportunity to go through our baggage in more conventional manners."

Wray nodded.

Nasira arrived with two other female Janissaries. She wore the same wide Turkish garb, but without a layer of silk across her face. "You are to speak with the Wazir us-Shura."

Nasira lead them outside and across the parade grounds towards the palace, the largest building inside the fort. Entering through a wide arched doorway they passed down a hall with marble floors and detailed mosaic tiles. Janissaries, these all male, and each holding a large battle axe, stood at attention every few yards. The two officers waited patiently, their cocked hats tucked under their arms, before the inner door creaked open and they stepped inside with Nasira.

The throne room was what they had expected, with a high dais on one end, a throng of civilians lined along the right and a two dozen soldiers standing ready at various points. They had not expected to see a ship inside the great chamber. The ship, or rather the upper structure of a brig sloop, had been built inside the vast chamber. Shrouds and braces and stays stretched out from both masts, the entire suite of standing and running rigging was in place, the sails neatly furled along the yard arms. Hamilton and Wray both stared at the half ship, until Nasira shifted her sword noisily and they turned to face the throne.

"Well, I like the rake of her masts and she's sailing trim, but the walls might deaden her way," Wray whispered sarcastically.

Hamilton shook his head almost imperceptibly. Both men followed Nasira until they were before the dais. The officers bowed. 

Nasira spoke in Turkish. The thin man on the throne was less elaborately dressed than the others and the only person in the room who was remotely casual. He leaned on one arm and motioned with the other. He looked exceedingly bored.

"You may speak now," Nasira said.

"I am Lieutenant Edward Hamilton and this is Lieutenant James Wray, proud member of His Britannic Majesty's service. We bring greeting from our government and King to your country," Hamilton tried to speak loudly and clearly. "We are pleased, humbled and most honored to be of whatever small assistance we can be to your naval forces."

Nasira translated. She listened to the response and repeated it in English. "The Grand Vizier says, I am the representative of his most pious Lord of Tunis and the surrounding waterways and lands, under the domain of the great Sultan and that you are to assist the Wazir al-Bahr, the Vizier of the Sea, with his..." Nasira hesitated. "Shit."

"Shit?" Hamilton said with surprise. He quickly recovered. "Please tell the esteemed Grand Vizier of the pious Lord of Tunis that we are proud to... proud to be... of... assistance."

Hamilton stammered as the Wazir us-Shura had stood up and walked behind the throne, followed, in military precision, by the civilians courtiers and soldiers. The door into the throne room opened and even the soldiers stationed out in the hall joined the exodus. In a few minutes the room was empty except for the two English officers and the female Janissary.

"That went faster than I expected," Wray said, as he walked over for a better look at the deck and masts.

"We should wait a moment, James," Hamilton cautioned. He looked at Nasira. "Did I give some inappropriate response?"

"No," Nasira said. "The Wazir us-Shura is one of the most important men around the Pasha-Bey. He is not an ally of Massih Bey."

"I gathered as much. So now do we just wait for the Constance to return?"

A side door opened and eight women came in. All wore short jackets and half trousers made in an ornate and feminine imitation of an English midshipmen's uniform. They did not wear shirts and the jackets barely covered their breasts.

A moment later the main door opened a fraction and Pieter Van Schoonhoven rushed inside, breathing hard. "I am late, my apologies, I was waiting for... for..." He pointed at the eight women.

"These are the slaves who work the palanquin," Nasira said.

"And why are they here?" Hamilton asked skeptically. "I trust we are not to teach these women to sail a ship?"

"Exactly that, Lieutenant!" Van Schoonhoven said, finally catching his breath. "Massih Bey, the Vizier of the Sea, et cetera and et cetera here in fair Tunis, yes? He commands that these slaves be taught the arts of proper English sailors!"

"And do we sail this fine sloop about the room and out the door?" Wray asked with a laugh.

"This is to merely to teach them how to work the sails, Lieutenant, and then you will demonstrate for his eminence their skills in an actual ship that has been built to these exact lines."

"And will that fine vessel have a hull?"

"My dear, Lieutenant Wray, yes, yes of course. A fine ship to sail el-Bahirah!"

"The Lake of Tunis," Nasira translated. The city was built on an isthmus between two salt lakes. The far shore of one lake was pierced by an ancient canal that lead to the Mediterranean. 

"This is a fool's errand!" Hamilton yelled. "I could sail a sloop like this with a handful of experienced seamen, but, with this flummery it is an impossible and pointless task!"

"Lieutenant Hamilton," Van Schoonhoven said very seriously. "As I am sure you are very much aware, yes, the port of Tunis is on what is, by any normal definition a large lake. Simply sail these beauties around a few times while the Bey watches, hmm, and has his cock yanked by some delightful morsel. Flummery it is, indeed, unless his esteemed elderly brother the Pasha-Bey dies and he sits on the throne. It would take very little for Massih Bey's attention to be lured to the French cause." Van Schoonhoven smiled broadly at the women and then added, "Is this a fool's errand? Yes, of course! And we must keep that fool on the side of English."

Hamilton looked at Wray and sighed. "I'll need a larger crew."

"That can be arranged, yes, now, let me tell you who you have gentleman! These are all highly trained slaves, gentleman, yes? They have long grown accustomed to their station in life and will obey your commands. All of your commands, yes? Do you see gentleman? The use of the lash is at your discretion of course." Van Schoonhoven walked to one end of the line where it was apparent the first two were twins. "This is Almas, the Diamond, and her sister, Akouta, which means the Emerald. This pair of lovely, bed warming playthings were taken from the fishing village on the shores of Sicily."

Hamilton and Wray stood and watched very carefully. As did Nasira.

"This is Rana, the Beautiful Sight," Van Schoonhoven said, now standing next to a blonde slave. "She was on a Danish merchant ship, yes, until fate lead her to this life of service. Poor girl and yet, oh yes, I assure you she is one for the sheets."

"When were they all taken by the Turks?" Wray asked.

"I have been a slave for five years, master," Rana said in English with a light accent and a quiet voice.

"The story is about the same for all of these lovelies. Here is Jameela the Graceful Beauty. From Crete, I believe. Yes? Yes, indeed. And this Spanish beauty is Bayna with the Tender Body. Oh, and this dark skinned body is Nashwa, the Intoxicating Perfume. She was purchased in Egypt and delivered directly to the Bey's bed." Van Schoonhoven reached around and cupped Nashwa's breasts, before moving on. "Here is Hayfa, the Slender Beauty, also a Spaniard. And last, Samira, also known as the Fuckable, yes, that she is, oh yes! This slave was taken from an English ship."

"What? That is an outrage!" Wray yelled. "Release her at once!"

"No, James." Hamilton cautioned. "We are not here for that. Our orders are clear, we are to assist the Pasha-Bey of Tunis. We are not to look for opportunities to free prisoners."

"But she's English!"

"And your Admiralty is wise, yes," the Dutchman pressed his body against Samira's, reaching around sliding his hand down her body and over her mound. "Though, perhaps, after a successful conclusion of your endeavor the very honorable Massih Bey could grant, hmm, special requests?"

Wray was not happy, but he nodded.

"I am to assist you in maintaining order among these slaves," Nasira added.

"Indeed and that will be a easy task. So, if you will excuse me, gentleman," Van Schoonhoven said, his cock clearly hard. "I will be taking a fast visit to the, yes, to the Pearl Room, before attending to my duties."

And with that the Dutchman gone.

"Do these women understand English?" Hamilton asked Nasira.

The slaves all nodded and said, "Yes, master."

"This has planned for some time," Nasira said.

"I will freely confess they are the finest lot of fresh middies I've seen," Wray said.

"And we should treat them like that. Difficult as that might be." Hamilton took off his cocked hat and set it down before addressing the slaves. 

Wray smiled.

"All right," Hamilton yelled out. "The first thing you will do is to climb up to the masthead. I will do it myself, it is not difficult."

The slaves nodded and muttered, "Yes, master."

Hamilton stepped over to the deck and went to the mainmast shrouds. He quickly climbed the ratlines until he was just below the masthead, the flat platform just above the main yards where the main mast was joined to the main top masts. From there he used the futtock shrouds, the web of ropes which went around the outside of the masthead, to reach the platform itself. Like all midshipmen did at first, the women looked in horror as Hamilton was nearly horizontal for a moment, while fifty feet above the deck, before he climbed over and stepped up on the masthead.

"Now, you can use the lubber's hole to reach the top," Hamilton shouted. He pointed to an opening in the platform by the main mast. "At first, that is, but later you will use the futtock shrouds like good sailors." He pointed up. "When we are done with this you will climb to the topmast and even higher to the t'gallant mast. And you will use the footropes and go out along the yards, all of them, and we will show you how to handle sail."

Hamilton paused, looking down at the floor, and, although he had only done it once before, he reached out for a backstay and stepped off the platform moving hand over hand down the line to the deck. He pressed his hands against his pants and then put them behind his back. They hurt like hell.

"Mr. Wray, have them go up to the masthead in pairs."

Wray pointed to the twins. They looked at each other then ran over and climbed up to the top with ease, both even went out along the futtock shrouds.

"Very good," Hamilton yelled. He ordered them down when he saw them looking higher.

The blonde Rana and Jameela were next. Jameela went over slowly, looking back at Rana who simply shook her head. Jameela hesitated but climbed to the shrouds and then to the top through the lubbers hole.

"Get moving, middie!" Wray shouted to Rana.

"No... no...." she shook her head and fell to her knees. 

Hamilton glanced at Wray and nodded almost imperceptibly. Rana was left on her knees and Bayna and Nashwa were ordered up next. They walked slowly to the shrouds and climbed equally slowly, Bayna used the futtock shrouds and almost panicked but she made it and stood proudly on the masthead. The Spanish Hayfa and the English Samira were last. Hayfa looked frightened which made Samira stop for a moment, but at last Samira climbed and when she reached the top Hayfa followed.

Hamilton looked at the women as they stood again in a line before him. All of them breathing hard.

"Miss Nasira," he said to the Janissary. "What means do we have for punishment?"

"There are many ways to punish slaves in the Pearl Room."

"Yes. But what about here, something along the lines of a cat?"

Nasira nodded. She walked across the room and took hold of Rana by the wrist, dragging her towards one of the columns that ran around the outside of the chamber. There was an iron ring painted to blend in almost perfectly with the tiling. Nasira pulled it out a few degrees. Rana clearly understood what was happening. She did not try to resist. She took off the jacket and shoes and breeches, leaving herself naked and exposed, then reached up and put her hands on the ring, pushing her ass back and spreading her legs apart.

Nasira took off her hat, letting her red hair fall free. She took a leather flogger from a small wooden chest and looked at Hamilton. "How many?"

"Five lashes for disobedience."

Nasira swung the flogger hard on the slave's ass. Rana stifled a scream and fell forward, but quickly pulled herself back into position. She held back a scream on the second stroke, but on the third she wailed and had to struggle back into position. Nasira reached out and stroked the tender ass and glanced over at Hamilton.

"Carry on."

The fourth and fifth lash caused the blonde slave to cry out and sob. Her knees were shaking as she pushed herself back into position after the last lash.

Hamilton reached out, almost before he knew it, and felt Rana's warm ass, now with long lines of welts from the heavy leather tails of the flogger. Then he pulled his hand back.

"Very good, return to the line slave." he pointed to Hayfa. "Now, you. over here.'

"Yes, master," Hayfa said, her eyes wide with fear as she stripped and took hold of the ring.

"Two for hesitating."

Nasira struck the slave's ass twice, in rapid succession. Hayfa screamed out and buckled to her knees, but regained her pose.

"Back in line."

Nasira pushed the iron ring back into the wall and put flogger away. Hamilton walked to the line of slaves. He was surprised to see that Rana and Hayfa both remained naked, and realized he had not explicitly told them to get dressed. Wray meanwhile, glanced down over the slave's bodies, then looked away for a moment, before staring at them more. 

"We should treat them like ordinary middies?" Wray asked Hamilton with a sly smile.

"Indeed. And... well...I, uh, I think that is all for now, Mr. Wray."

"I think that is a very good idea, Mr. Hamilton."

Nasira looked surprised for a moment but quickly resumed her usual neutral expression. Wray told the naked slaves to pick up their clothes and then dismissed them all.

"Wait!" Wray shouted as they shuffled towards the side door. He pointed to Samira, the English slave. "You! Come here. The rest can go."

"Yes, master," Samira said. She returned to the middle of the room and waited.

"I'd like to find out about... about her circumstances," Wray said to Hamilton. "As in the, uh, the circumstances of her being on a ship --"

"It's alright, James. Take her."

Wray nodded and lead Samira out.

"This is going to be a somewhat distracting business," Hamilton said to Nasira.

The female Janissary smiled.

"I've never seen you do that before," Hamilton said to her. 

"I am not sure what you mean." Nasira lied. "Would you like to see the Pearl Room, Mr. Hamilton."

"The Pearl Room? Well, yes, I think right now...that would be most delightful, Miss Nasira."

Nasira lead Hamilton to one side of the large chamber, behind the arched colonnade. The opening that lead below was not covered, but the tiles along the stairs were distorted to give the appearance of a seamless floor. The illusion worked until one was within a few yards. There were narrow steps that lead down to a low ceilinged chamber liberally covered with gold and tiles arranged in elegant geometric patterns. 

They moved to the center of the room where there were four small cages, each with a frightened slave. Lamesa cowered in the second cage as Hamilton approached.

"I thought this one was a serving slave," he asked Nasira.

"She is," Nasira said. "But each of the household slaves must spend some times in the cages of the Pearl Room. None escape this duty. In the cages they may simply wait, or they me be selected and used by one of those granted the privileges of the Pearl Room."

"And you are you granted the privilege?"

Nasira nodded.

"This one was spying," Hamilton said, indicating Lamesa. "I'm sure it was under orders of your Pasha-Bey, but, still, I would enjoy using her."

Nasira opened the cage door and pulled Lamesa out. The slave instantly fell to her knees before them. "Not the Pasha-Bey, Mr. Hamilton, this one is the property of Massih Bey. Your baggage was searched on orders of Zahir Fariq bin Mutasir while you were on your detour to the slave markets."

"Who?"

"He is Chavus, I am not sure of the English word. He is one sent directly from Istanbul and while in Tunis he is the Grand Vizier of Pasha-Bey." Nasira brushed her red hair from her face and smiled. "Your English wax seals are not difficult to cut loose with a hot knife."

"Indeed?" Hamilton laughed. "Well, I take it this is not the actual Pearl Room?"

Nasira shook her head. She pulled Lamesa to her feet and pulled her towards one wall. With a push a section opened into a room with walls inlaid with millions of pearls. Hamilton stepped next to Lamesa and pressed his hand to her ass as he looked around.

The room itself was not very large. Rings of various sizes hung from the ceiling and walls, with smaller rings arranged in two rows along the floor. There were wooden poles hanging from chains and other posts held horizontally between double posts. Lengths of chain and silken cord were lined up neatly on a table while a brazier burned in one corner next to a series of brands. Around the walls were pegs with whips and floggers and canes of all sizes and descriptions. 




Voyage of the Tunisian Rose



"I would have expected more to be enjoying this place," Hamilton said.

"Massih Bey has caused... difficulties.... in Tunis. That are not many who would be associated with him."

"And yourself, Miss Nasira? You have no qualms about such associations?"

Nasira didn't answer, she dragged Lamesa towards an ornate wooden box. Inside were a series of soft leather bands. The Janissary carefully selected four and placed them around the slave's wrists and ankles. 

"Torturing a slave does not violate your sense of honor, Englishman?" Nasira asked playfully as she tied the leather bands carefully on Lamesa's limbs.

"It should." Hamilton had set down his cocked hat. He took off his jacket as he looked down over the olive skin and small, perfectly shaped breasts of the terrified slave.

"Then to answer your question, Mr. Hamilton: it should." 

Nasira gathered a few short lengths of silken cord. They pulled Lamesa to a thin hardwood pole that was suspended from a pair of posts. Nasira bound the slaves arms behind her back and then pushed her under the horizontal pole. The ropes around her wrists were tied to the wood. Her ankles were then tied to a pair of rings in the floor. Nasira places two pair of short wooden splints against Lamesa's knees and bound them in place, forcing her knees straight. The result was that the naked slave had her legs spread wide as she was bent forward at a right angle with her arms back in a painful strappado. 

"I really shouldn't do this," Hamilton said, more to himself than anyone else. 

"Many have the desire to rule, though not many can command with power," Nasira said. "I see the power to command in you. And more. I see the desire to control."

Hamilton took off his shirt, "And you?"

"I have a taste for control." Nasira began to take off her short Turkish jacket and shirts. She was soon topless, her long red hair flowing over her breasts. Hamilton stared at Nasira, lean and paler than he had imagined, with ample breasts and hard nipples. She smiled at him and added, "though I have made exceptions."

Hamilton also put his hand on Lamesa's ass. The bound slave began to breath faster, and kept trying to look back to see what was happening. Hamilton touched Nasira's hand, almost accidently. He looked up at the Janissary and their eyes locked for what seemed, to them, like hours. It was a simple, touching gesture, made across the sweet ass of a tightly bound sex slave.

They pulled their hands away together. Nasira struck first, her hand slapping hard on the slave's tender ass. Hamilton did the same, smacking hard on her soft flesh. They both began to spank, one after another, a rapid volley of painful blows that pushed Lamesa forward again and again, straining her bound arms and adding to her misery.

Lamesa began to cry and then beg and plead in Turkish. Nasira said something to her in her native language which only made the slave cry harder.

"She pleaded for mercy, but this one is a spiteful bitch always reporting to the Bey. I told her as much."

They stopped spanking. Hamilton ran his hand over the warm ass and let his fingers slip along her slit. The slave was frightened and terrified, but she knew what was expected. She began to wiggle her ass and press her cunt into his hand hoping he would fuck her and the torture would end.

Nasira walked to Hamilton and leaned down. She undid the buttons along his breeches and pulled them down. His cock was already rock hard when she took it in her hand. She leaned close, as if she was going to suck, her tongue just flicking lightly over the tip of his shaft. But then she pulled back and stood up.

"What's wrong?" Hamilton said.

"I am forbidden to have cock inside my body."

"Oh."

Hamilton hesitated but then pulled off his shoes and breeches. Nasira slapped the slave and she yelped. The topless Janissary walked over to the wooden box and came back with a pair of small golden chains. At the end of each one was a clasp. Lamesa saw the chains and begged, her body shaking, adding more strain on her arms bound to the pole behind her. Nasira stepped in front of the slave and bent down and opened one of the clasps. She reached out and snapped it onto a nipple. Lamesa cried out. Nasira simply smiled and snapped the other clasp on her other nipple.

"Please, mistress, please...." Lamesa said as tears streamed down her face.

Nasira ignored her. She handed the second identical chain to the naked Lieutenant Hamilton. "I am also a slave."

Hamilton held the clasps in both hands. He looked down at the Janissary's nipples, hard and erect, and then stepped closer and snapped the clasps on each tender nub. Nasira grimaced and then smiled broadly. Hamilton pulled hard on the chain, yanking her close.

"Never?" he asked.

"Never." Nasira, let out a soft cry as her nipples were pulled. She smiles as she leaned in and brushed her lips against his. "That is why this slave is here."

Hamilton took hold of Lamesa's hips. The slave dutifully began to wriggle her hips. 

"Take me, master... please," the bound slave begged.

Hamilton slapped her ass, hard. "I'll take you when I damned well want to, slave."

"Yes, yes, master."

Nasira moved to her knees next to the olive skinned beauty. She reached out and took hold of Hamilton's cock and slid the tip up and down against Lamesa's slit. Hamilton held on to the bound woman's hips and he smiled, looking down at the topless Janissary who held his cock tightly.

"Never?"

"Never," Nasira repeated. She held his cock as his tip moved into the slightly damp pussy of the slave and then stood up. Hamilton thrust his cock in deep, his fingers pressing in hard on Lamesa's skin as he fucked her full force.

Nasira walked behind Hamilton and put her arms around him. "You might imagine it is me."

"Oh, I am... oh, I am," Hamilton fucked Lamesa harder and faster as his cock slid in and out of the tight cunt. Lamesa made the right noises, she was a well trained pleasure slave, but with her arms still bound in the stressful strappado there was not much conviction.

Hamilton slammed in harder as the intense pleasure of fucking a beautiful bound woman took hold. Nasira had slipped off her own pants and boots, and he could feel her thighs and mound against his body as he fucked the bound slave. It was too much. He cock erupted and his cum blasted into the pussy of the helpless Lamesa.

"Your cock must be cleaned," Nasira said as he pulled back.

"I.. I will clean your cock, master," Lamesa said, quietly.

Nasira knelt down and ran her tongue around her cock. Hamilton took a deep breath wanting his cock in her mouth. But Nasira on licked and kissed. Then she stood up.

"Never?" 

"Never." Nasira unbound Lamesa and pushed her to her knees. The frightened slave leaned in and cleaned his cock carefully, her eyes looking up at him, as he only looked at Nasira.

##

The training of the crew continued, on the deck and masts of the half built brig sloop which Wray insisted be called the Ann. On the third day the slave Hayfa had fallen from the main yard but had managed to get by with only a broken arm. She was replaced with a French beauty, taken only the year before, who had been renamed Luloah by her Corsair captures. It meant, the Pearl. Hamilton decided there was no point in teaching the women more than very basic sail handing. Other slaves would be forthcoming, ones who did not speak English, and the eight they trained now would have to be the leaders of the groups assigned various tasks such as working the topsail or simply hauling on a brace from the deck. The ship, the real ship, would have to make do without a bosun, carpenters, coopers, midshipmen or any real officers other than Hamilton and Wray. 

In the end each slave was allowed to wear the short breeches which clung tightly to their ass and thighs, with small wrappings around their hands and feet added after Nasira expressed concern about Massih Bey not wanting his elite slaves developing calluses. 

"That's going to just happen!" Wray had said to that, in exasperation. "Every real sailor has calluses!"

"I know." Nasira had replied. Her expression had not changed, although Hamilton couldn't resist shrugging.

"Aye, I wondered." Wray laughed. 

Wray himself spent each night with the English slave Samira, whose name before her abduction was Ann Whetherlocke, and who Wray insisted did live up to the meaning of her slave name: the Fuckable. But the other women were used as well by both officers. A routine developed with two breaks during the day during which each man used one or more of the slaves. The Pearl Room was used a few times, but the erotic strain of watching the topless beauties running up and down the shrouds, moving out along the yards or just standing there, usually meant that the officer's cocks didn't want to wait.

Hamilton spent most of each night with Nasira, their naked bodies entwined. Nasira would work his cock well with her hands, a satisfying, if messier approach.

##

Three weeks after his arrival in Tunis, on a dark night, Hamilton held Nasira and watched the faint glow of torches and lamps from the city shift the shadows over the naked woman's body.

"So why do you know your mother was Russian?" he asked her. 

"That is what I have been told by two slaves, once when I was a girl living in the Harem and once when I was a soldier in Cezayir. They said they knew her, and that she had been the wife of a Russian officer who was with child when they had been captured near the end of the war."

"Did they tell you the name of the officer?" 

"No. They were young too, only children when they were brought back to Istanbul. Why do you ask?"

"I'm starting to think of you as English."

She pressed he down on his back, sliding up so that his semi-erect cock was between her thighs. It quickly grew hard.

"You would have me dress like a barbarous infidel? With a long plain gown cut down to the show almost all of my breasts?"

"That sounds more French than English, but why not?" He leaned down and licked her breasts.

"That would never be allowed, Edward, by the many rules of my order."

"Well, I would imagine the rules of your order don't include women with muskets now, do they?" Hamilton laughed. "So I think that your rules can be.... oh... did I pinch you?" 

"They only created my bulecka as another entertainment," Nasira said as she slid back down him, using the Ottoman word for her company of Janissaries. She was no longer smiling.

"You are very entertaining," Hamilton said, trying to cheer her up. "And a very good soldier. I wouldn't want to be up against you in a saber duel."

Nasira laid still, next to him. "Perhaps they are right. War is not the place for a woman."

"War is not a place for anyone." Hamilton looked at her, his expression now grim. "I remember when I was a midshipman on the Orion during the Glorious First. When Lord Howe ordered our fleet to cut the French line the ship turned, and we moved closer and closer, all the while facing their broadsides. And... well... well, perhaps it is of no importance."

"Tell me Edward."

"I've never told anyone this, not even James." He hesitated. "I was standing next to my best friend, Porter -- I told you about him, he was the middie from Yorkshire -- I asked him a question and he started to answer but then a French shot took off his head. I was talking with him and then... his head was gone and what was left of him toppled over. Two seamen, even before he'd even hit the deck took hold and... they heaved.... heaved him overboard while I stood there gaping." Nasira leaned up to look at him. "And after all these years I keep thinking, not of the good and true friend cut down in his prime, not of the future officer lost to the service, and not even of the fine line with my own mortality, but that... that... I've forgotten what I asked him. How foolish is that?"

Nasira was silent for a minute. "I have never told that I still dream of my first real battle. It was in a wretched town in Rumeli that wouldn't produce their allotment of taxes. The Sanjakbey brought his whole household to see a massacre, but when his first lines were repulsed at the town walls he suddenly had to use his pretty soldiers. It became a siege and so a mine was dug. The Sajakbey was a young fool, the tunnel was always filled with mud, and the enemy knew of it. They waited and dug a countermine. When the last of the waterproof powder casks were being set... right before we were to blow a breach in their walls... they broke in. They seemed to emerge everywhere, from the walls and even the ceiling. From everywhere." Nasira paused. "We fought and we won. I fought and I killed. But when I dream... when I dream of this I can't find my saber and the enemy are coming closer and my hands are down in the mud as I try to find it, and my hands are pulled into the mud, and I see them coming and I try to pull out my hands and I try to look for the saber and..." Nasira's voice trailed out.

"I'm sorry."

"It is not good to speak of these things. Not in this way."

They were quiet the rest of the night although neither slept. Two hours before dawn, as always, Nasira crept out of his room.

##

The next day thirty six other beautiful female slaves were brought to the training ship. They were taught to do the simple but hard work of hauling on the lines to move the sails and yards. Ten were deemed capable enough while aloft to be added to the small top crews. 

And at last, a week after that, Hamilton and Wray were taken down to the quay on el Bahirah, the Lake of Tunis, where a wide range of ships, large and small, were tied close or anchored just off shore. 

"There she is, gentleman!" Van Schoonhoven pointed to a brig sloop tied to the quay, with mast and rigging identical to the training half-ship, the Ann. "The most pious Massih Bey, Bey al-Mahalla, Wazir al-Bahr, yes, has named this fine vessel The Most Delicate Flower."

Nasira, dressed in her full uniform of colorful clothes, her saber in its jeweled scabbard, her heavy musket on her back, looked slowly over at the Dutchman and said, "The name is Cunt." 

"The Cunt?" Wray said. "Bloody hell!"

"Of course, gentleman," Van Schoonhoven said with a broad smile. "And the most pious Massih Bey, the heir to throne of this fine, fine nation, yes? He is watching these proceedings from his palace and so we will be very happy with the name of his fine, fine ship."

"I'm not sailing on any bloody ship named the bloody Cunt!"

"Lieutenant, yes, of course your enthusiasm is most --"

"Enough!" Hamilton snapped. "We can devise a new translation later. First, however, I insist that we be allowed to inspect the vessel whether or not that offends his pious majesty."

The two naval officers, trailed by Van Schoonhoven and Nasira walked slowly through the ship inspecting from the masthead to deep in the hold. They were both impressed by the solid work. They were, however, surprised that there were six brass 12-pounders in an enclosed gun deck.

"We never drilled these women to fire guns," Hamilton said.

"I most seriously doubt that will be necessary, my dear fellow." Van Schoonhoven leaned in. "You'll have food and water for no more than three days, hm, perhaps, enough powder and shot to fire each gun twice."

"He thinks we're going to steal the ship?" Wray said with a laugh.

"I suspect he doesn't want his trained slaves to make a run for Sicily," Hamilton said.

"The women? Hah. Mr. Wray is correct, the ship is what he cares about. Women are cheap when you're the Vizier of the Sea with three dozen war galleys, always primed to raid for the coasts for more, yes?"

##

An hour after sunset Hamilton walked along the battlement of Massih Bey's fortress, the city of Tunis arrayed before him in the moonlight. The mehterhane, a military band, was playing on the parade ground and the laughter of women filtered from the windows. Nasira had spent the afternoon with her company, marching and drilling with muskets. He hadn't see her after sunset, which was unusual, but was very pleased when she walked out along the battlement. She dismissed the soldiers around her, and they were alone.

"So, now that we are far from the many pretty ears of Massih Bey and the Grand Vizier and the Pasha-Bey, can you tell me, Miss Nasira, about a man who wants a ship with a crew of sex slaves?" Hamilton asked, looking very correct for a somewhat public setting, or at least trying to. 

"Massih Bey is a most pious ruler, wise and far sighted. There were great omens heralding his birth. As a baby he spoke the Koran. As a child he won battles and personally slew thousands of our enemies. He has lead fleets across the world. Infidels across the world tremble at the merest mention of his name and beg to give tribute to stay his wrath."

"Yes. I was afraid of that."

Nasira smiled. Her red hair was visible under the high crowned kalpak on her head. "He is worse than a fool, he is an embarrassment."

"Is that why we never see him?"

"He remains under the protection of the Kocek Kapikulu," she said, meaning the female Janissaries. "He finds women to be far more trustworthy."

Hamilton nodded. Then he laughed. He quickly stifled that with a forced cough. Hamilton looked out along the waters of el-Bahira, the Lake of Tunis, where the lights of the many lamps, candles and fires throughout the city were reflected on the wave tops. The Rose, the English name Hamilton and Wray had agreed to use for the brig-sloop, sat at anchor now, a few hundred yards from the quay.

"I would like you to come with me," he said, suddenly.

"If the great Massih Bey feels you need protection he will send me with you."

"Not on the ship. I mean --"

"I know what you mean, Edward." Nasira maintained an impassive expression but Hamilton thought that in the twilight he saw a trace of embarrassment. "Would you have me in gowns held wide with barrel staves while drinking tea and eating cake with the other Christian wives?"

"Well. I, uh, I think you would... you would look very nice."

"And when you went to sea? I would visit these infidel wives and talk about the local vicar or my service as a Ghazi?"

"Well...I, suppose... uh..." 

"Have you forgotten that I am forbidden to have a man inside me?"

"Well..." He looked at her and saw her smiling. "I have indeed noticed that quality about you, Miss Nasira."

"You could come with me to Istanbul."

"What?"

"They could give you a ship and I could fight at your side as we raid the infidels. Many slaves would be ours."

"There is an appeal to that," Hamilton said with a laugh. Then he looked out at the harbor and nodded. "But, I see your point."

They both turned as the gates slowly opened with a loud groan. There was a loud grinding which Hamilton had come to recognize, the combined clink of heavy chains as a group of slaves was moved about the city. Several horsemen came in first, followed by a line of thirty women chained together. Merchants and guards kept the women moving as they were directed across the parade ground to the outbuilding.

The women cried and pleaded in multiple languages, but except for the occasional snap of a short whip, there was no mercy. In the dim light it was difficult to see what they looked like, although if nothing else Massih Bey owned only beautiful women.

"I may not be able to have a man inside me, Edward, and if the slaves on your ship have become tedious then perhaps you should buy your own."

Hamilton looked at her and said, "What? Oh, I can't, I can't do anything like that."

"You are not in England." Nasira said quietly. She put the silk across her face and made her way off the battlement, yelling orders to the guards to return to their posts.





Voyage of the Tunisian Rose



Hamilton waited a few minutes and then made his way down the stairs, touching his hat to the handful of Kocek Kapikulu that he passed. He could hear the chains being taken off the new slaves as he stepped inside. Wray, in breeches and an shirt leaned against the wall outside his room with his arm around a naked Samira as he watched the slaves in the courtyard.

"You should button your breeches, James, it is rather unseemly in such polite company," Hamilton said jokingly.

"Of course, your lordship." Wray said as he closed the buttons. Samira giggled.

"I think we will actually set sail tomorrow." Hamilton kept his eyes on the women, all with long dark hair, as they were pushed with the flat of a sword to line up along the center of the courtyard.

"Across the great sea of this lake? Oh, I look forward to it, and can only pray the great waves will not make me seasick," Wray said with a grin. "Now, if you will excuse me, your grand lordship, I want to fuck this slave."

Hamilton laughed as Wray took his slave back inside his room. Hamilton watched the blonde Rana as she walked pass on some assignment with a tray of the white cheese favored by the Ottomans. He ignored her and stepped into the courtyard. Hamilton recognized a merchant from the slave auction Van Schoonhoven had shown them on their first day in Tunis. The man glanced his way and then suddenly nodded his head enthusiastically. One of the new women was brought forward. The merchant took her and pushed her towards Hamilton. He said things in Turkish while the women pleaded in Italian and Hamilton understood none of it. But she frantically pointed to another slave. The merchant looked at Hamilton, then nodded and pulled that slave over as well.

Hamilton looked at the two naked women in the soft light of the many lamps along the walls. He noticed they both seemed relieved to be standing next to a European naval officer. The merchant began to speak and it took a moment for him to realize what he meant. Hamilton slowly pulled out a gold guinea and handed it over. He only had a few, not enough, he feared, to purchase two slaves. Yet the merchant was overjoyed. 

Hamilton indicated for his slaves to follow him. His room was too small and, though he was tempted, he didn't want to go all the way over to the Pearl Room. There was a small dining hall on the second floor, one built, as was everything inside Massih Bey's fortress, to be used with beautiful sex slaves.

"Grazie! Grazie!" the two women said as he lead them inside.

"I am Edward Hamilton. English."

"Grazie Capitano!"

"Captain? No, not exactly." He still smiled at them as he discovered that their names were Margherita and Christina. They were not sisters but friends, from Genoa. His eyes kept lingering over their bodies, but they remained so happy about their apparent rescue they didn't mind. Both woman had long dark hair, brown eyes and delicious lips. Margherita had full breasts and a softer body than the more petite Christina. 

The dining hall had a series of low tables and couches, and a pair of large chandeliers which emitted a warm glow around the room. The only windows were placed high and covered with slatted wood. The room, like the furniture, was highly ornate, although with subtle improvements made at the behest of Massih Bey.

Hamilton set down his hat and jacket on a chair and walked over to one of the walls. There were small bottles of Raki on the low table. He picked one up and took a long drink. Christina said something in Italian and then picked up his jacket and put it on.

"No." Hamilton said, firmly. "Put that down."

The women froze. Hamilton repeated the order and stepped closer. Despite the language difference Christina understood and took it off.

"Good. Now slaves, I want you both to come over here."

They shook their heads, both realizing what he meant by 'slave.'

Hamilton slid his hand against the wall until he found two of the many iron rings that blended seamlessly in with the geometric pattern. He pulled them out slightly and motioned for the women to approach.

Christina suddenly turned and ran for the door. Hamilton had already locked it.

"Do you wish to go back out there and be a harem slave? Get over here! Now!"

Both women pleaded, but they understood his angry motions. They slowly stepped toward him, staying close together. There were thin strands of silken cord scattered around the room. Hamilton picked up one and stepped forward to grab Christina by the wrists. He pulled her against the wall and quickly wound the cord around her wrists and then slid the other end up through one of the iron rings. Christina shook her head and begged but it was too late; she would bound tightly against the wall, her hands above her head.

Hamilton then looked at Margherita. He had deliberately gone after Christina first as she seemed more prone to resist. He spoke calmly as he walked towards the full breasted slave. Margherita could only imagine what he was saying but she knew there was no escape. She meekly stood in her place and let him bind her hands. He walked her back to the second iron ring and in a moment she was bound next to her friend.

Hamilton stood between them, looking back and forth, as his hands slid over their bodies. Margherita had full breasts and the fingers of his right hand pressed into her soft flesh as his left hand cupped the small globes of the petite Christina. Both women looked at him, no longer trying to plead. He slid his hands lower, moving over Christina's taut belly and the softer one of Margherita.

Christina kicked out. It wasn't an effective kick, but it made Hamilton step back. He cursed and then walked across the room to a chest of deep brown wood, from which he pulled out a flogger. Of course he would have used it anyway, but the slaves didn't know that. They shrieked and begged, both of them pulling up on the ropes and scrapping the feet against the wall.

Hamilton snapped the flogger against Christina, the leather tails biting into her breasts and torso and hips as he struck again and again. They were soft blows, he didn't want to give his new slaves raw streaks just yet, but Italian slave cried out with each blow and begged forgiveness. 

He stopped flogging and then leaned close to Christina, pressing his bulge against her thighs. He kissed her. Christina struggled at first but gave up, letting him kiss her. "You're a pretty one," he said calmly, smiling lightly. "And you are my slave."

Christina looked at him, her face filled with fear.

Hamilton stepped back and went to Margherita. She cried out even before he swung the flogger. He liked watching her breasts bounce back and forth, up and down, as she struggled with each snap, so he kept his attention there, swinging the flogger across her breasts over and over.

Hamilton tossed down the flogger and took off his shirt. He carefully unbuttoned his breeches, then pulled off his shoes. Naked, he stood between the two slaves. His hands moved to their cunts. Both women froze, their eyes locked on him as he explored their bodies. Both so beautiful and yet both so different. Margherita had soft thighs that pressed against the sides of his hand as his fingers probed around her slit. Christina's thighs were smaller but almost all muscle. He looked from one to the other and them pressed a finger up into their cunts.

He knew it was just a physical reaction. Both women now hated him, and who could blame them? But Margherita was wet first. That made his choice easy.

Hamilton pulled his hands back and walked in front of the voluptuous slave. He squeezed her breasts, letting his fingers moved over her soft flesh until he held just her nipples between two fingers. He pulled lightly and leaned down, licking around one nipple, then sliding his lips over to lick the other. Margherita was breathing hard, from fear, when he stood up and pressed his cock against her inner thigh.

He stepped back and slapped her inner thighs. "Wide! Spread them wide, slave!"

Margherita spread her legs as she leaned as back against the wall as she could. She cried out and with one hand gripped tightly on the rope binding her wrists to the iron ring. Hamilton stepped between her legs and placed his cock on her cunt. The tip was just inside when he reached around and took a firm grip of her ass. Pulling her hips up and out he slammed his cock deep inside and began to fuck the new slave.

Margherita let out a single cry as he took her, but then didn't resist as he pressed her back with more force. He shifted his grip to the top of her thighs and pulled her legs close around his waist as his cock rammed her with deep thrusts. Margherita began to respond, slightly, though whether it was in response to a man inside her or just because she thought that was expected he didn't know or care.

"You're a fine fucking slave," he muttered. "A most fine fucking slave!" Hamilton felt the pressure from his cock spread throughout his body as he reached orgasm. He pulled her thighs up higher and drove himself into her as his cum filled her tight cunt.

Hamilton let go and stepped back. Margherita was hanging limply from the chains. She looked at him, her face filled with fear and her cheeks stained by tears. Hamilton drained a small bottle of Raki and smiled at Christina. The petite slave's eyes were locked on his glistening cock. He walked across the room pulled a single golden chain with nipple clamps from the wooden chest. He stepped toward Christina and dangled it in front of her. "You know what this is?" She nodded and he laughed. "You're just agreeing to everything, aren't you slave? That's good."

He ran his fingers down on breast and pulled on her nipple, teasing it into a hard erection. Christina whimpered, now realizing what the clasps on each end of the chain was for. Hamilton teased her other nipple and then quickly snapped both clamps in place. The slave cried out as the tight springs contracted the metal on her tender nipples. She began to pull herself up on the rope but there was nowhere to go. 

"Not yet wet enough are we, hm?" He said to her as he slid his hand down to her pussy. She only looked at him, breathing hard from the pain on her breasts. 

Hamilton walked over to Margherita and reached up. There was a cylindrical latch where the ring was bolted to the wall. It rotated and the ring came free. Margherita was surprised, but did nothing except obey as he pulled on the ring and dragged her in front of her friend's struggling body and then forced her to her knees.

"I want you to lick her cunt, slave," Hamilton said. He had Margherita by the hair and pushed her face between Christina's thighs. "Lick! Lick!"

Hamilton picked up the flogger. Margherita, her body not moving, slowly pressed her tongue against the other slave's pussy. Hamilton swung hard with the flogger, snapping it across the kneeling slave's back. Margherita began to lick with more force, her tongue pressing up along the slit and clit of the other slave. Hamilton kept flogging her. He then reached over and pulled on the golden chain. Christina cried out as her nipples were pulled. Hamilton's cock began to harden once more.

Hamilton pulled Margherita away. "Sit over there!" The slave, her hands still bound, meekly complied and went to sit in front of a low couch.

He pushed Christina's legs apart and slid his cock up inside her. He pressed her against the wall, his cock deep in her cunt, and reached up to remove the nipple clamps. The slave breathed deeply with relief at that and suddenly seemed to noticed that she was being fucked. Hamilton smiled and took hold of her hips, pressing himself into her again and again, until his cock exploded once more.

When he was done he released the iron ring holding Christina and ordered her to sit by Margherita. Hamilton reached for another bottle of raki and stood, watching them. 

The door to the room opened and Nasira stepped inside. She was wearing her pants and soldier's vest, but nothing else. Her breasts bounced as she walked over to Hamilton.

"You paid enough for six slaves," Nasira said with a slight laugh. "I hope these two are worth it."

Hamilton nodded glumly, reaching for a bottle of raki only to find it empty. He threw it across the room.

"You have the power to command and the desire for control," Nasira said, reaching out for him.

"I've become a monster," he said, flatly.

"These slaves have been used with a strong passion. That is what they are for."

"I'd rather have you."

"I know." She put her hand on his semi-erect cock. "A slave should clean your cock."

Hamilton nodded, but before he could retrieve one of the two Italian slaves Nasira fell to her knees. Her mouth slid over his cock, her tongue pressing up along the shaft as she gently cleaned him. Then she stood up.

Hamilton looked at her in surprise and pleasure, not saying anything.

"Do you want these two slaves in your room?" she asked, after a moment.

"No. You can have them taken below. Put them in the cages with the others household slaves."

##

The next day Hamilton stepped out along the quarterdeck of the Rose. He looked out across the city, the mountains and fortifications around the harbor as he felt the wind. It was early morning and the reflected sunlight glinted along the tops of the waves. It was a fine day for sailing. 

"My compliments to Mr. Wray," Hamilton said to Jameela, when the wind shifted. "At his pleasure we can weigh anchor."

"Aye, sir," the delicate woman said in her accented English as she ran forward.

Below deck, near the bow, twenty women strained as they worked the capstan. It was hard work and already a warm morning so all were naked as they pressed against the capstan bars. The thick hemp hawser slowly moved, streaming water, as the anchor began to lift from the bottom. Wray shouted and the slaves pushing against the wooden levers began to sing "Spanish Ladies," or they tried to as none of the ones at the capstan spoke English. Wray himself kept yelling "Heave lads!"

Hamilton held the ship's wheel as the hawser tightened and the Rose slowly turned to the wind.

"Miss Samira and Miss Jameela hold her steady," Hamilton said, he stepped away and let the two slaves take charge of the large wheel. Both slaves wore short, open jackets but no shirts, and even a small gust of wind brought their breasts into view. 

The anchor was brought up and secured, and then Wray, smiling broadly, came up to the quarterdeck.

"Square away, if you will, Mr. Wray, and set courses."

"Courses and squared away. Aye aye, sir."

Wray ordered two groups of slaves aloft. The twins Almas and Akouta lead the women who moved up and out along the main yard, holding tightly as they moved out with their feet on the footropes, while Bayna and Luloah did the same with a team of slaves that went aloft to the mizzen yard. On deck, Rana and Nashwa repeated commands as the slaves in their groups took hold of the braces.

"Make sail now! Handsomely lads, handsomely!" Wray yelled. "On deck! Look smart! Brace in! Now! Heave!"

The Rose was soon gliding across the Lake of Tunis, slowly, towards the mountains north of the city.

"Very good, James," Hamilton said quietly. "Now, let us hope the Bey enjoys the entertainment."

"I know I will, sir." Wray laughed.

"Indeed. It is an intriguing sight. Now, if you would, Mr. Wray, you can set the tops'ls." Hamilton said.

"Tops'ls. Aye aye, sir."

Hamilton stood on the quarterdeck as the topsails came down and with a familiar crack snapped as they took hold of the wind. He stood with his hands behind his back, trying to look as imperturbable as Duckworth did on the deck of the Orion at the battle of the Glorious First of June, when iron and lead filled the air as they had cut across the French line. 

Under the mainmast Wray yelled at one group of women and then the next, using the same voice he would have used on any ship of His Britannic Majesty's service. Hamilton managed a smile. Captain Duckworth only had to contend with the cannon fire of French sail-of-the-line, while he was dealing with a ship of topless sex slaves.

##

Six hours later they were anchored in the calm waters of el-Bahira several hundred yards from the Halq al Wadi, on the far side of the lake from the city of Tunis and near the narrow canal that lead to the Mediterranean Sea. There were the usual crowded buildings of shops and apartments on shore, a marketplace and small quay, all in the shadow of the towering fortifications that guarded the narrow canal.

Wray had gone below with his Samira, who he had taken to calling by her given name, Ann, and the French slave Luloah. Hamilton leaned against the taffrail at the stern, looking over the lake at the small boats as they moved across the water with different levels of skill. Suddenly feeling foolish standing so calmly on the deck of an anchored brig-sloop with a crew of beautiful women, Hamilton made his way below. He glanced at the blonde Rana. She was tempting for a quick snack, but there was paperwork. No matter what the circumstances in any part of the world there was no escaping the ship's books. 

He was quietly looking through the log when he heard a cry from the deck, "Beet A Loy!"

Boat ahoy?

Hamilton recognized Nashwa's voice as he ran back on deck. A galliot, one of the smaller war galleys was approaching slowly using only it's tall, triangular lateen sail. On the bow stood an elegantly dressed and very well armed female Janissary.

"Hello Edward," Nasira said, after she was rowed over and brought onboard. Other boats from the war galley had brought casks of fresh water and other supplies which were, slowly, being heaved up to the deck with ropes and tackle hanging from the main yard.

"Miss Nasira," Hamilton said, touching his hat. "I have yet to hear any news of how this little voyage is playing out with the Bey."

"Exceptionally well, Captain Hamilton. The most pious Massih Bey has been observing from his palace in the city with delight. Now he will be moving to take residence in the Kasbah."

"Kasbah?"

Nasira indicated the largest fortification along the canal. "He wishes to see how well his ship of slaves performs in the sea. You are to proceed through the canal as soon as the supplies are loaded."

"That may take some time." On deck the women were working hard, but it was difficult to hoist up the heavy barrels and then swing them over for the hold. Wray was below making sure everything was loaded correctly. "It is only the early afternoon, but this crew is not familiar with open waters. I recommend we wait until they are rested. Perhaps tomorrow if the winds are right."

"The most wise Massih Bey is very insistent that you do this now."

"Yes. I am sure he would be." Hamilton sighed. "However, I do absolutely refuse to go anywhere without a pilot. I have been fortunate thus far with only some navigational notes, but I will not take this ship through the canal without an experienced pilot."

"That has been anticipated. You will be supplied with an excellent pilot."

Hamilton nodded. He looked up at the sky, trying to judge the weather. Then he stopped. "You?"

"Indeed, Captain. I will be your pilot."

"You are a woman of many talents."

Nasira nodded.

"It is a pity there is one talent I have yet to enjoy fully."

Before Nasira could respond Wray was running up on deck. "If I may, Captain."

"Yes, Mr. Wray."

"Miss Nasira," Wray said as he touched his hat. "Captain, the casks are loading unbalanced! I have been trying to tell the women they can't just put them wherever they please, but its bloody hard when most don't speak bloody English. I could use help from those hands on the galley, sir."

"I considered that, Mr. Wray. You are right of course, and on a normal ship a few experienced hands would greatly speed the provisioning. However... however, considering the nature of our crew, I am not sure it would be wise to bring over such men. You will have to make do with what you have."




Voyage of the Tunisian Rose



"Aye aye, sir."

"How much longer, do you think?"

"Two hours, sir. Just in time for a nice meal."

"I'm afraid not. We are heading out through the canal."

"Only for the night," Nasira said. "Tomorrow you will have your great feast, Mr. Wray."

"Aye aye, sir. And good day Ma'am," Wray nodded and went below. 

"I don't suppose there is any particular reason for this sudden change?" Hamilton asked.

"The wisdom of Massih Bey is impenetrable to this simple soldier."

Hamilton nodded absently. "While we have the time we should discuss the details of the piloting. The channel does not draw much, I saw that when the Constance brought us through, and I am sure there are hazards."

Nasira nodded and followed him below. She closed the door as he sat down behind the small table. There were ships and boats passing visible in the great window built into the stern, but few were moving close now that the war galliots was anchored nearby.

"It is good to see you," Hamilton said. "I wasn't sure I would once we started actually sailing around the lake."

Nasira removed the light cloth from her face and smiled. "Massih Bey watches from a concealed window with a large telescope. He has always enjoyed seeing his slaves do the work of men."

"It strikes me that it would be easier to just keep the slaves close and fuck them."

Nasira walked over to Hamilton and knelt down. "Perhaps he gets tired of that with so many slaves to fuck?"

"I can think of one slave I would like to fuck," he said, leaning down and running his hand over her chest.

Nasira slowly unbuttoned her shirt, just enough to allow his hand to slide in and caress her breasts.

"This sudden desire to see the Mediterranean puzzles me though," Hamilton said quietly. "Does he now worry that the slaves will take over the ship and escape?"

"He trusts you, Edward."

"I suspect he trusts his war galleys more." Hamilton kissed her forehead and then stood up. He looked his hands behind his back and looked out along the waters of el Bahirah. "Or is that too ludicrous a thought, hm?"

"I learned long ago not to question the whims of those with great power." She stood up and buttoned her shirt back up. "There will be ships outside the channel. There always are. I have no doubt that some captain will have orders to make sure the crew cannot flee."

"Of course." Hamilton nodded. "The sea can be tricky and I do not want to be caught on a lee shore with damage from a sudden storm. I will require additional supplies. More canvas, spars. No great quantities. I am sure the galliot can spare what I need."

"I will see to it, Captain."

Hamilton turned back and stepped very close to the Janissary. "Well then, you can arrange that and I will see you when we are ready to make sail."

Nasira nodded and returned the silk across her face. She left the cabin. Hamilton stood, looking around the small room as he heard her issuing orders in Turkish.

"Damn," Hamilton said to himself. He sat down, but only for a moment, then stood and looked out again. He needed to think. He needed a clear mind to think.

"Stewart!" Hamilton yelled. Nothing happened and he yelled again.

There was a knock and the blonde Rana looked in. "Yes, Captain?"

"Come inside, slave."

Rana nodded and stepped in, closing the door. She had never gotten over the apprehension from her flogging on the first day with the training ship, but she still obeyed. 

"Yes, master," she said submissively.

"Strip."

"Yes, master." Rana took off her jacket and the short breeches, and then began to unwind the wrappings on her hands.

"I don't care about that. Lean against the desk."

"Yes, master." Rana hesitated, for a split second and then leaned against the desk. She kept her ass out and spread her legs.

"What was your name before you were made a slave?"

"Annalisa, master. Annalisa Jorgensen."

"Anna?" Hamilton had stepped behind her and ran his hand over her ass. "Like the Ann that Mr. Wray has."

"Yes... yes master." Rana, like the rest of the women was jealous of Samira. Wray not only kept her away from the most difficult tasks but it was assumed that she would go with him when the officers left Tunis.

Hamilton slapped Rana's tender ass. "Taken from a Danish merchant ship, so I have heard, although somehow the ship and all its cargo was let go."

Rana nodded and then quietly said, "Yes, master. My uncle he... he sold me to the pirates, five years ago."

"I am sure you brought him a good price."

"Yes, master."

"He brought you onto the quay, is that right? While delivering his cargo. Then he stripped you and auctioned your body."

Rana nodded and tried to acknowledge what was said. She couldn't.

Hamilton slapped her ass hard. Then again. "Isn't that right, slave?"

"Yes! Yes, master! He took me, naked, down to the galleys and.. he called for men to pay."

He reached down to her cunt, pressing his fingers hard on her pussy lips, squeezing and touching. Then his cock was out and the tip placed just inside. 

"He took me and sold me, master, for... ahh!" Rana cried out as his cock began to push its way into her dry pussy. She wriggled her ass, working hard to create some wetness.

"He sold you, yes, and I am sure many wanted to buy you."

"Yes... yes, master. He sold me for... three... ahh! Three casks."

Hamilton thrust in deep and began to fuck her. Rana's body cooperated and her pussy became wet as he slid his cock slowly in and out of her body.

"Three casks of what, slave? What did he sell you for?"

"I don't know! I don't know, master! Please..."

Hamilton ignored her cries. He wanted her hard and fast and he fucked her hard and fast. Soon his cock was on edge and his cum filled her tight pussy. Hamilton slapped her ass and stepped back. Without needing an order, the slave turned and knelt down. She took his cock in her mouth and sucked, looking up at him with pleading eyes, the sort she knew he liked, as she tasted herself and his cum.

"He sold you for raki." Hamilton stepped back and fixed his clothes. "Three casks of fine Ottoman wine."

Rana looked downcast. She nodded.

"Now return to your duties, slave."

"Yes, master." She was soon dressed. "Aye, Captain."

Hamilton went back on deck as soon as the slave was gone. Wray was directing more supplies into the hold while Nasira spoke to one of the galiots officers.

"She's doing fine, sir," Wray said. "I still need to get this crew to let me balance, you'd think we were laden in bulk, sir, but 'tis not as bad as before. Bunch of lubbers they are, sir. Aye, pretty ones, but lubbers all the same."

"Indeed." Hamilton looked around then said quietly, "I have something I would like your Ann to do."

"Indeed, sir! Well, all you have to do is ask her, she's not personal property."

"No, no. Not that, James. I want you to make a pair of sea anchors. Nothing large. Once we are out of the canal I want your Ann to work with just a few slaves we can trust and set them out through the rear gun ports."

Wray nodded slowly. "I'll need to the bend the canvas to a pair of the spare lanyards and make it secure down below. It would be easiest to just secure it to the aft guns. Aye sir, and Ann and her friends will toss it by the board at your convenience."

Hamilton nodded and then slowly walked back to the quarter deck as the slaves continued to haul on the lines pulling up the heavy barrels.

"Heartily lads!" Wray yelled at once, to the women pulling on the ropes. "Heartily now!"

##

Three hours later, in the later afternoon, the Rose was moving slowly through the canal using the tide and the slight breeze on the topsails.

Nasira stood next to Hamilton as Wray handled the wheel. The slaves were exhausted. Most of them were sitting out on deck where small sections of canvas has been stretched over the rigging to afford a slight shade in the heat. Some of the people wandering along the waterfront stopped to watch the ship with its crew of topless slaves, but for most it was just another part of the background.

The fortifications of the Kasbah towered over them as they passed the bend in the canal, and below that where 24-pounders lined in rows along low parapets on either side of the canal where they faced out towards the Mediterranean. Hamilton looked at it all, glad he was not part of any attacking force.

"Massih Bey is in the castle?" Hamilton asked.

"The Kasbah they call it. Yes. He supposedly brought his harem with him through Tunis and then around the lake. He will be in one of those towers watching us with a telescope."

"A very strange man."

Nasira looked at Wray and Hamilton and smiled.

"Steady, Mr. Wray," Hamilton said. "Keep us in the fairway."

"Aye aye, sir."

The Rose emerged from the canal into the blue waters of the Mediterranean. Hamilton was happy, more happy that he had expected, to be looking out once more at open water. Nasira guided them to avoid sandbars, although there were small buoys which made the task easier. The ship began to roll slightly. The sea was calm but with the change from the enclosed waters of el-Bahirah several of the slaves soon looked queasy.

"You can set the main courses, Mr. Wray. Then take us two points larboard. We'll cruise north, then wear ship and be back at anchor on the lake by sunset. That should satisfy the bastard."

"Main courses and two points larboard. Aye aye, Captain."

Wray bellowed down to the slaves and, with some grumbling, small groups climbed the shrouds and soon the main sails on both masts were set. Other slaves took hold of the braces and the yards were brought about as Wray adjusted the helm. The Rose heeled slightly as the ship began to move with the wind forty degrees off her bow.

"Some of them look sick, Mr. Wray," Hamilton said with a sigh. "Including your Ann. You can send them below."

"Aye aye, sir." 

The twins Almas and Akouta followed the English Samira below.

"Starboard the helm, Mr. Wray."

"Aye, Captain. It's the balance of the hold, sir, should I go down to shift some shot?"

"No. That shouldn't be necessary." Hamilton motioned to Nasira. "I'll be in my quarters."

"Aye, sir."

Nasira followed Hamilton below and shut the door.

"You make a very good looking English sea captain," she said, smiling.

"For a moment I almost thought you wanted to escape with me back to England." Hamilton wasn't smiling. "But there was no alarm along the canal and no one tried to stop us." He stepped closer to Nasira who now stood at attention, her expression grim. "Massih Bey didn't give us orders to go through the canal and he is hardly the type to travel out of his nice, safe palace."

"My loyalties are to the His Imperial Highness the Sultan of the Sublime Ottoman Domains, Edward."

"I know that. I also know you take orders from someone other than Massih Bey. The Grand Vizier, I imagine."

Nasira didn't answer.

"Shit, I don't care if it is him or the Pasha-Bey or the King of Spain. But I do want to know what is supposed to happen next."

Nasira remained at attention.

"I could flog you."

"Yes, master."

"And you would not tell me a fucking thing you didn't want to!" Hamilton pounded his hand on the desk. 

"Sail ho!" came a cry from above.

"Stay in here!" Hamilton ordered Nasira. He ran up on deck. Wray had given the wheel to Jameela and Bayna as he stood looking astern with a telescope. He handed it to Hamilton. 

"Damn," Hamilton said, watching the bow of a war galley churning white as it slowly closed on the Rose.

"Set the t'gallants, Mr. Wray, if you please."

"Aye, sir."

Hamilton watched the galley as the lateen sail was stepped down. Banks of oars suddenly appeared like wings. Under oars the galley was faster, but Hamilton knew he had a chance if they had begun their run with oars too soon. And if the wind didn't die.

"The sea anchors, Mr. Wray, you may cut them loose."

Wray was below for only a moment. Hamilton looked over the side to watch the water as it passed the hull. In a moment the Rose was suddenly moving several knots faster. Wray came back and took the wheel.

Hamilton watched impatiently as the slaves were still setting the topmost sails and wishing the brig-sloop had been given stay sails. "Full and by, Mr. Wray, full and by."

Wray ordered the slaves to shift the braces and the ship was brought as close to the wind as possible. The land was dropping off as they moved north from Tunis.

"Clever, sir!" Wray yelled. "On this tack the unbalance in the hold lessens the list."

"And adds another knot, yes. I hope this is enough because when we take the other tack that will all work against us."

Hamilton could see there was confusion on the galley, men on the bow were moving about frantically. They had not expected the Rose to jump ahead, and now they risked having their oar slaves tired before they overtook the Rose. But they were not backing down. The banks of oars were set to attack the water at a faster pace and again the galley closed.

Ten minutes later the galley's bow gun fired. The 24-pound iron shot missed, landing one hundred yards behind them, but Hamilton knew it was only a matter of time.

"It was a good ruse, sir, but I'm not sure we can outrun them," Wray said. 

"Tell the twins to strip and then go up to the mizzen top. I want them to wave to the galley."

"Sir?"

"If they know what we have they are not likely to pound us to bits with cannon! Now give the orders, Mr. Wray!" Hamilton watched the approaching galley through the telescope, seeing, quite clearly, two officers doing the same at him. 

"Aye aye, Captain."

"Then get below and load the larboard guns and run them out. We'll only get one shot, James."

"Aye, Captain. I know."

Almas and Akouta, as always, were delighted to be naked and delighted to climb up and wave at the galley. Hamilton looked at them, two beautiful slaves who worked well together in so many ways. They had been taken when galleys had raided the coast of Sicily, but still, they waved and smiled.

The cannon fire stopped. The galley continued to close.

Hamilton watched and considered, looking at the sea and the faint trace of land. Nasira had come up on deck and it took him a few moments to notice. She had taken off her hat, jacket and shirts, and stood topless, her red hair blowing wildly in the breeze.

"I told you to wait below!"

"The Captain of the galley knew you had a ship of sex slaves, but he would not have told other officers," she said calmly. "They know now. There will be no cannon fire but still, they will not stop until they capture this ship."

"Yes, yes. Now, is that all you can tell me?"

"The Captain of that galley is a mercenary, from where I do not know. The pride of Pasha-Bey would not allow his own crews to be used." The female Janissary turned and yelled out in Turkish to some of the slaves still on deck. Two rushed below and quickly returned with a small cask marked with curved Ottoman script.

Hamilton looked at her and then back at the approaching galley. "Powder? Are you going to scuttle my ship?"

"No." Nasira held the small cask tightly. On one side was a wooden plug covered with fresh tar.

"You worked in mines during a siege..."

"Yes. This contains a small charge of powder and a loop of slow match which I have sealed with lead. This will keep it from the water, but only for a short while."

"And what do you expect me to do? Light it and throw it?"

"No, Edward. I have already fired the match."

Nasira took hold of the cast and leaped to the side. She lost her grip on the cast as she slipped under the water, but quickly resurfaced and held to it tightly.

The galley did not follow exactly behind the Rose, and a cast thrown overboard would have passed near, but not near enough for the small charge to do any damage. But the galley changed course as the constant stroke of the helmsman's drum was stopped, and the galley coasted across the water. With oars the galley was faster than the Rose, and as there was no way for the ship of slaves to escape, there was no reason to avoid the tasty morsel in the water.

"Mr. Wray! Wear ship!" Hamilton yelled. He took the wheel himself, looking back at the galley and across down on the deck of the Rose as slaves ran to take the lines. 

"Heave heartily!" Wray yelled, joining in himself to haul on the braces, pulling the yards around as Hamilton pushed over the rudder. The Rose turned in a wide circle and reversed course. 

There was a flash and a cloud of black smoke and then a low rumble came across the water. The explosion had not done much damage, but there was confusion on the galley. Hamilton didn't want to release the wheel to use the telescope, but as they closed he was sure that several of the soldiers and officers lining the bow were down. He concentrated on setting a course so that the Rose passed within two hundred yards from the galley.

"Now, James!"

Wray sighted along one of the cannon barrels, timing carefully the roll of the ship and then setting the linstock to the touchhole. The cannon roared, sending out a huge flame that quickly dissipated into the dense cloud of smoke. The second cannon fired and then the third. At least one ball slammed into the side of the galley, and a pair of oars cracked. It was not much, but the confusion on the galley kept it from turning back and continuing the chase.

The Rose flew with the wind back towards Tunis. As they maneuvered towards the canal Hamilton gave the wheel to Wray.

"Are they going to take us there too, Edward, perhaps we should make a run for Sicily?"

"No," Hamilton had said. "One rough sea will sink us. We go back."

Hamilton went to his cabin and sat down. There was a knock.

"Yes?" he snapped.

The twins Almas and Akouta, still naked, stepped inside. They looked at each other, smiling, and Almas said, "Mr. Wray told us to come, master."

Hamilton nodded. "You both did very well. On this whole mad enterprise you have done well. You both would make fine sailors."

They smiled and stepped closer, kneeling next to him. Almas started to speak then Akouta said, "Mr. Wray says we are to make you happy."

Hamilton smiled, weakly. He reached over and let his hand run down Almas's cheek and down to her breast. He leaned in his seat and put his other hand on Akouta's body. "Later. Perhaps. Give my compliments to Mr. Wray, and let him know he can bring the ship into the lake and drop anchor."

##

A pilot came on board and lead them into the mouth of the canal and across the lake. The slaves worked the sails well, if slowly, and the Rose glided back towards Tunis. Two hundred yard from the quay the anchor slid into the water. Three oared boats met them and the slaves were taken off the ship and replaced by a small crew of regular sailors.

Hamilton and Wray sat in the sternsheets as the ship's own boat, the oars pulled by the eight English speaking slaves, took them to shore. Wray, pleased to have escaped talked excitedly, but Hamilton but could only nod.

Van Schoonhoven met them on the quay. Soldiers -- male soldiers -- took charge of the women and lead them towards the fortress.

"Ah! Yes, yes!" the Dutchmen yelled in delight. "You have made the Pasha-Bey exceedingly pleased, yes? A great feat of courage!"

"What was all of this about?" Hamilton said, angrily. 

"Good relations with His Britannic Majesty, yes?"

Hamilton stepped towards the Dutchman in anger. "What the fucking hell was this about?"

"Ah! Lieutenant! Please, please!" Van Schoonhoven stepped back. "You did the Pasha-Bey and the Grand Vizier a service. A great service. Massih Bey was, hmm, as you surmised I am sure, he was so very concerned about his ship leaving the lake that once you reached the canal he did leave his palace for the Kasbah. Such a pity too! Those years inside the palace and then, on a simple trip outside he had an unfortunate circumstance."