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Castles Made of Sand Ch. 01

By: LateNightStories



 Edited by AnotherWannabe

*****

This story is the first part of a series. In this chapter, you will be introduced to...

Jahalia: The jewel of the Dunes. Jahalia is the largest city-state in the Akasha desert. It is an obligatory stop for any caravan travelling through the Dunes.

Sindbad: A freelance thief, opportunist and general troublemaker. Sindbad grew up as an orphan on the streets of Jahalia. Now that he has grown into a young man, he is eager to make a name for himself. Sindbad prefers chaos and anarchy to order and tyranny. Chaos allow the clever and the capable to prosper and punishes laziness and complacency. His patron god is Eshu - the trickster.

The Dakini: A secretive sect of warrior priestesses. They usually live apart from the rest of society, but sometimes they travel out on pilgrimages to combat the many evils of the world.

The Sword of Khalid: A curious artefact given to humanity by the gods. According to legend, it has the power to make its wielder invincible, but it will only grant this power once. It is currently in the possession of the war hero Khalid. Previously, it was known as the Dancing Sword.

A Dakini in Jahalia

It was midday. Most of the people of Jahalia were resting, as was Hermes. He lay upon his mat on the outskirts of the marketplace and dreamt of places that he'd only heard about in stories. Places with no sand or dust, but lush meadows and rolling hills of grass. It felt like paradise, the kind of place the infidels of the north believed they would go when they died. He waded naked through a river and plucked fruit from overhanging branches. Women with fair skin and blonde hair sat on the bank and dangled their feet in the water. They smiled at him. As the dream went on, Hermes started to become lucid. He realised it was only illusion, but he wanted to linger in the fantasy as long as possible.

When he awoke, it was to a beautiful sound, the rattling of the sequins. He opened his eyes and saw a small group of belly dancers nearby. Their lower bodies undulated to the thumping rhythm of a drummer. Gold coins hung from their hip scarves, creating the unmistakable sound. In other places, gold signified wealth. Jahalia was a trading city, and rich on luxury fabrics and metals, but you can't eat gold or velvet.

Hermes noticed that one of the dancers had a rash on her neck. It was similar to the one Hermes had on his lower back, and those he'd seen recently on other people. Over the past few weeks, it had grown from being a nuisance to a serious handicap. It didn't hurt as much as it had yesterday, but that was probably temporary. Hermes looked back at the girl. She was even younger than he was and she was pretty. He hoped she would be one of those who'd recover. For him, it seemed to be too late.

"Good afternoon, drowsy eyes!"

A slender man came strutting across the marketplace to the place where Hermes lay. Sindbad was a friend of sorts. He was a great guy to hang out with - an accomplished jokester and drinking buddy. If you were foolish enough to lend him a large sum of money, though, you were unlikely to ever see him again. Today, he seemed to be in a particularly good mood, which usually meant that he had been up to some sort of shenanigans. It was likely related to the large bundle he carried in his arms.

"Afternoon, Sindbad," Hermes yawned. "I often find that you are curiously clean-shaven and well groomed, even when you appear to be starving."

"I won't be starving tonight," Sindbad said with a grin. "I've completed that heist I told you about."

"The heist? In the palace? My friend, you shouldn't have bragged so loudly about it in the tavern. What if someone gave your name to the guards?"

"I don't hang much around in those parts of the slums. I doubt anyone knew who I was. Anyway, people are usually good at keeping to themselves." Sindbad grinned. "I certainly wouldn't go talk to a guard voluntarily, myself."

Hermes rolled his eyes. "Well, before I let you brag about the loot, there is something I need to ask you. I am not sure if, in your drunken mind, you were able to hear me or remember what I said, but I asked you to check on my sister the next time you passed by her district."

Sindbad rubbed his head. "As a matter of fact, I have no memory of such a request, but, being the good friend that I am, I went by that place on my own accord."

Hermes frowned. "Not to bed her I hope?"

"What? No!" Sindbad looked genuinely offended, which was not something Hermes had often seen. "I stopped by her place and did some discreet asking around. For your sake. A favour for my dear friend who always seems to think the worst of me."

"The dear friend may have good reason to be suspicious."

"I believe the dear friend must be suffering from selective memory," Sindbad muttered.

"Forgive my suspicious nature," Hermes laughed. "Please, tell me what you learned."

"She's sweet on some caravan boy. He's been bringing her jewellery from one of our neighbouring cities." Sindbad turned and looked his friend directly in the eyes. "When are you going to tell her that she still has a living brother?"

The phrasing of the question hurt Hermes more than Sindbad could have suspected.

"When I have managed to scramble together some money. If I went to her now, I might be tempted to beg her for a loan. I can't become a burden on my only baby sister." Hermes sighed. "As her only male relative, it would be my duty provide her with a wedding dowry."

"Then you better hurry," Sindbad said, with concern rather than sarcasm. "The boy she's seeing seems pretty well off. Soon, she may not have any need of your help."

Hermes turned away. "Then let her marry the boy and be happy. If the gods granted me that, then I'd be happy to die poor and alone."

Sindbad studied him. "You're being awfully dramatic today, Hermie. If you want to make money, you need to take greater risks. Live every day as if it's the last. It's not like we have much to lose," his smile widened, "but there is everything to gain."

"I don't believe there will be much to gain from thieving in the near future," Hermes said. "If the caravans don't start bringing in more food, more people will begin to starve. Then it will be everyone for themselves and gold will have little value."

Sindbad laughed. "Then I have all the more reason to spend my loot as soon as possible."

Hermes didn't hear the last comment. He had become aware of a lone woman walking across the dusty marketplace on bare feet. She stood out from those around her. Her stance was proud, and she did not have the hunched shoulders of a peasant woman. She wore an opaque veil that reached down almost to the tip of her nose, leaving only the lower half of her face exposed. It identified her as a Dakini.

She wore an exquisitely embroidered dupatta that she had draped over her shoulder and wrapped tightly around her frame. The veil over her face was of equally luxurious make. These items must have been given to her as gifts. The rest of her clothing were simple, seemingly home-made and allowed for great flexibility of movement. On her hip hung a long katana sheathed within a scabbard. The scabbard was simple, but the sword was likely of the highest quality. Their swords were the only worldly possessions the Dakini took pride in owning. The luxurious garments didn't matter.

"Is that one of those warrior priestesses?" Sindbad asked his friend.

Hermes nodded. "Yes. I've never seen one before. I don't think the Caliph likes having them in his city. He'd rather have them out in the desert handling raiders, than in the streets stirring up trouble by killing petty thieves and deceitful merchants. Keep your hands out of other people's pockets around her."

The Dakini walked over to a stall and perused the foods that were available. She did not remove her veil to look at the wares. Instead, she allowed the merchant to hold the fruits and herbs up so that she could smell their quality. 

Hermes assumed the merchant was honoured that the Dakini had decided to visit his stall, even though the Dakini would not be able to offer him any payment for his wares. They had no worldly possessions aside from their weapons, clothes and other bare necessities, so the Dakini were allowed to take whatever they needed. Refusal from the merchant was likely to be punished by the guards. Still, it was unlikely that she would take more than a mouthful, unless she was planning to leave the city.

A visiting dignitary from the north-western lands of Gomorrah was standing in line behind the Dakini. It was obvious from his erratic movements that he felt she was taking too long. Hermes didn't like the Gomorreans, they had the airs of superiority about them that far surpassed those of even the local nobility. Their costumes were strange and perverse. Rumours had it that they ate dogs. To Hermes, that made them little better than dogs themselves.

"Milady, would you please make up your mind!" the man yelled impatiently to the Dakini, in the crude language of his people.

The Dakini spun around and put her hand on the hilt of her katana. Hermes knew that Dakini fighting etiquette dictated that she could not unsheathe her weapon in public for any other reason than to kill. Therefore, she waited, presumably hoping the man would realise the danger he was in and apologize before his fate was sealed.

A Jahalian servant was trying to convince his Gomorrean master of the danger he was in, but the hound would have none of it. He had decided that it was his honour that was being insulted and wanted to teach the girl a lesson. As soon as he raised his hand, he realised his mistake. The Dakini grabbed the man by the wrist and with her other hand hit him so hard in the stomach that he lost his breath and fell to his knees, her movements so quick that they were barely perceivable. The man lay in front of her gasping for air. The Dakini once more put her hand on the hilt. If she had decided to behead the man, she could have done it in the blink of an eye.

The man was trying to get up, fuming with anger. His servant got down beside him.

"Master, she would kill you," he pleaded, before he turned to the woman. "Most holy sister, this is an emissary from a foreign land and a personal guest of the Caliph. He does not know our customs."

The Dakini stood in silence as the servant dragged his foreign master away to safety.

Hermes was over the moon. He had heard legends of Djinns, Angels, Sorceresses and Dakini, but he had never witnessed a living one with his own eyes. Looking over at Sindbad, he saw that his friend was equally impressed.

"That was amazing," Sindbad said. "I should hire her as my bodyguard. That would make the Brotherhood stop harassing me."

Hermes laughed. "The Dakini are not mercenaries. They serve their code. The only way to enlist her services would be to defeat her in single combat."

Sindbad turned to Hermes. It looked like a plan was quickly forming in his head. His eyes implored Hermes to elaborate and Hermes, being a lover of folktales, was happy to comply.

"The Dakini believe their prowess in battle is a result of the enlightenment they gain from ascetic living. If someone defeats them in a duel, then that person must be more enlightened than they are."

Sindbad had gotten a mad glare in his eyes. He slowly unpacked the bundle he had been clutching by his side and produced an extraordinary-looking sword. It was a curved scimitar, as beautiful as the new moon,

"That sword looks special," Hermes commented. "Who did you take it from?"

"From Khalid," Sindbad said. "Noble hero and insufferable braggart."

Hermes jaw dropped. "Did you steal Khalid's Dancing Sword? The one that makes its wielder invincible?"

Sindbad nodded and gave the sword a few lazy practice swings.

"Put the thing away," Hermes exclaimed. "Khalid will already have sent his soldiers out to look for it. He'll skin you for this."

Sindbad shrugged. "What do I care? I'm invincible."

"Do you really believe that is true? You're a fool. It's only superstition."

"Of course I believe it," Sindbad said confidently. "I know you do too, Hermie. You love such stories."

"Just because I like hearing tall tales doesn't mean I believe them. I'm not exactly a religious man."

"Well, I am. I believe, even though I'm not that pious." Sindbad looked over towards the veiled woman. "I even intend to prove my faith."

Hermes now realised what Sindbad had in mind. Sindbad was a gambler. Whenever there was something to be gained, the foolish twit would not hesitate in risking his life to take it.

"Sinbad, please," Hermes begged. "Even if the stories are true, the magic is supposed to only work one time. And if not, the Dakini will cut you down for simply walking up to her with an unsheathed sword. You'll be strewn across the marketplace in little pieces. You need to hide before Khalid's soldiers find their way here."

Sindbad simply laughed. "Have you never taken a leap of faith, Hermie? You should. The feeling... it's so... liberating."

The Duel

Sindbad walked confidently across the market to where the veiled woman was standing.

"Greeting, milady," he said and bowed before her.

The woman slowly turned towards him. She did not acknowledge his presence in any other way.

"Lady, I know that you come from a most respected order of warriors," Sindbad said in a flamboyant voice, loud enough to draw attention from the other people at the market. "But I believe that my soul is more enlightened than yours. If you disagree, then you will accept my challenge to a duel. Our skill with the sword will serve to determine whose philosophy is the truest."

The Dakini was standing completely still. Her cold demeanour made Sindbad nervous.

"Do you accept my challenge?" he asked.

His voice was faltering. This wasn't like him. He always kept his cool. The Dakini neither moved nor spoke. She didn't even pull back her veil to look at him. Sindbad lifted his sword up and pointed it toward the woman.

"Do you accept my challenge?" he repeated.

Sindbad never saw the Dakini blade leave its scabbard. He never saw it cut through the air towards him. Still, before the blade had reached his heart, he had somehow managed to parry the blow with Khalid's sword. The Dakini struck at him again and again, but somehow he was able to avert all her attacks. It was as if his limbs were moving on their own accord. The magic was working.

The fight went on. The Dakini are known for fighting with restraint and stoic grace, but this one was now battling like a cornered animal. The celerity of her movements were inhuman, as were the ferocity of her attacks. Sindbad felt his muscles ache in pain. He was gasping for air, while his opponent hadn't as much as broken a sweat. She switched between different fighting styles and tried a limitless variety of strikes and feints.

Being blind, the Dakini had no idea who her opponent was, but his heavy panting betrayed his inferior stamina. This confused her. If he were able to match her skill, he would have to be a great and noble warrior. He smelled like a beggar, but could be a travelling samurai or perhaps an ascetic monk. Perhaps his breathing was simply a trick to confuse her? She did not know. There was nothing to do but keep on fighting, hoping she would eventually break his defences.

Hermes had at first been watching the fight with great excitement, but now he was starting to get worried. He knew that Khalid's soldiers would soon find their way there. Then it dawned on him why Sindbad hadn't won yet. The magic of the sword made him invincible, meaning that he couldn't be killed or defeated as long as the fight lasted. The problem was that the sword did not guarantee victory. The Dakini could still fight him to a standstill. Hermes remembered a legend of a king who had taken the sword to fight a Naga princess, a monstrous woman with eight arms and the tail of a snake. The King fought her for several days, but eventually had to give up. The snake later tracked him down and killed him.

If the blade could not help him win, then Sindbad was in trouble. Once Khalid's men arrived, the magic of the blade would no longer protect him. They would drag him off to be tortured and executed.

A plan begun to take form in Hermes' head. The Dakini was blinded by her veil and was therefore reliant on her other senses. If Hermes could deafen her, then she would be unable to hear Sindbad's sword cut through the air. By the temple, there was a large gong. Hermes ran over to it and picked up the mallet that stood beside it. Then he lifted the mallet and struck the gong as hard as he could. It created an incredible sound that resonated across the marketplace, enough to drown out any other sound. It would certainly draw the attention of Khalid's soldiers, but that couldn't be helped. Once the gong stopped vibrating, Hermes struck it again. And again. And again.

The Dakini hesitated. The sound from the gong had deafened her and she was uncertain whether she should take off her veil and make use of her eyes. It would be sacrilege to expose her face to the mass of people that were watching, but the alternative was defeat. A searing pain in her right temple brought her to her knees. Sindbad had struck her with the pommel of his sword. She struck out at him blindly, but he deftly parried her. Then she felt the sharp edge of his blade against her throat. There was nothing she could do. He had her at his mercy and etiquette dictated that she should surrender and admit defeat.

"I submit," she said. "Kill me and release me from my duty."

Sindbad could hardly stand. He felt faint. The sun was burning. It was impossible to breathe the hot and dry air. Still, he smiled. The crowd was looking at him in awe and disbelief. They were so shocked by what they had witnessed that they didn't even dare to cheer.

"Did you see that," Sindbad shouted to his friend, who still carried the mallet. "I'm the greatest warrior in Jahalia."

As he stood there, basking in the glory of his victory, a host of soldiers swarmed into the marketplace. They immediately recognized the sword. Soon they had surrounded Sindbad and the veiled girl.

"Filthy thief," the leader shouted at Sindbad. "Surrender the sword!"

"Come and get it," Sindbad goaded.

The leader turned to one of the other soldiers. "Get him!"

"But he's carrying Khalid's sword," the soldier protested.

"It seems the fool has already used it to defeat that woman," the leader said with a wicked smile. "Grab him and put him in chains."

Sindbad turned to his defeated opponent, who sat silently in the sand.

"What would you do if I asked you to swear loyalty to me?" he asked her.

"I would be compelled to accept," she replied.

"Then I command you to save me from these thugs."

The soldiers realised it was probably wise to act quickly. One of them thrust his spear in the direction of Sindbad. It would have hit him in the belly and gutted him, but with a stroke of her blade, the Dakini separated the spearhead from its pole.

Sindbad laughed triumphantly. He handed Khalid's sword to the Dakini.

"Use this if you have to," he said, "but only if you really have to."

The Dakini took Khalid's sword and sheathed it. Then she pointed her own katana towards the soldiers and assumed a defensive stance.

"Why are you protecting this urchin, sister?" the leader of the soldiers yelled at the Dakini, having realised what she were. "He's a thief."

The Dakini did not answer. She did not even turn her face in his direction.

"The Dakini has sworn loyalty to me after I defeated her in honourable combat," Sindbad said to the soldiers. "She now carries Khalid's Dancing Sword. Your numbers don't matter. She can defeat you all."


Castles Made of Sand Ch. 01



Hermes saw the soldiers point their spears threateningly at Sindbad. There would surely be more on their way. Many more. Then Hermes felt the burning pain in his lower back return. His head felt hazy and feverish and his stomach clenched. He looked at his friend. Sindbad looked nervous. A couple more soldiers came running from a side alley and joined the others. Hermes made up his mind. He whispered a prayer to gods he wasn't sure he believed in. Then he lifted the mallet again and hit the gong as hard as he could. The soldiers all turned towards him.

"Stop banging that fucking gong," they yelled.

Hermes cleared his throat. "Remember the legend of King Amayaha, who defended his city singlehandedly against a horde of raiders."

"The sword's magic only helps you in a single fight," a soldier said.

"True," Hermes conceded, "but the number of opponents doesn't matter. If you attacked now, the magic would last until she has killed you all."

The soldiers began to mutter amongst themselves. The leader scratched his head. He was unsure of what to do. When he looked back at Sindbad and the Dakini, they were gone and four of his men lay face down in the sand. The sand beneath them was bloodied.

"After them," he shouted to the rest of the soldiers.

Then he went up to Hermes and grabbed the young man by the throat.

"I'm taking you in, worm!"

Hermes spat in his face. "I hope the pest takes you!"

The Thief and the Sister

Sindbad ran through the street with the Dakini, hand in tow. As soon as he believed their pursuers had lost the trail, he started leading his prize in the direction of a brothel where he had rented a room. Conveniently, the room had a window that lead out into an alley. This meant he would not have to take the Dakini through the front door. He was afraid of what would happen if anyone recognized her. He knew the soldiers would soon all be searching for a man and a Dakini.

They reached the alley. Thanks to the providence of Eshu, it was deserted.

"You need to climb up there before someone sees us," Sindbad said, pointing at a window further up the wall.

"Where?" the Dakini asked.

Sindbad was about to point again, when he remembered that his companion couldn't see.

"Why don't you remove that veil so you can see?" he asked her.

"It's forbidden," she simply stated.

He grabbed her hand and led her to the wall.

"Do you think you can climb this?" he asked.

"Maybe," she said. "There seem to be some creases."

"I'll help you. Quickly. Before someone comes."

Sindbad put his arms on her waist and lifted her as she began climbing the wall. She felt around with her hands for cracks to put her fingers into. It didn't take long for her to reach the window. Sindbad threw the two swords up to her. Then he walked around the corner and entered the building through the front door. The proprietress greeted him as he came into the main hall.

"I've been waiting for you, Sindbad," she said. "Have you got any money with you?"

Sindbad took out a pouch, counted up some coins and dropped them on the counter.

"This is a little more than what I owe you," he said. "I wanted to apologise for not paying my rent on time. I also wanted to ask you for a favour. I need some clothes ... for a lady friend."

"You've brought someone with you to the brothel?" she said, crossing her arms and looking at him sternly. "This better not be some freelancer whore from the streets."

"Not at all," Sindbad said, holding his hands up defensively. "Here. I'll pay you some more."

He took out some more coins.

She looked at him suspiciously, but eventually she nodded. "I have a dancer's outfit that you can have."

*****

Sindbad walked the clay stairs to the upper floor. The brothel was like a maze and it was easy to get lost. The room he rented was at the end of one of the corridors, secluded from the prying ears of others. The only downside to it was that it had a window leading out to the street, meaning that thieves could easily sneak in during the night, but he figured it might also be a convenient escape route.

When he finally got to the room, he found that the Dakini was not alone. She had a man in a headlock. The man was twice as large as the young girl, but Sindbad was certain she would have no problem snapping his neck like a twig. The swords lay on the floor. Had she unsheathed either of them, she would have been bound to kill him.

"What is your command, master?" the Dakini asked. "I think he believed I was a burglar."

"Release him," Sindbad ordered. "He is a eunuch and works here as a guard. I know him."

The Dakini released him and the man fell to the floor. There was fear in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Drugo," Sindbad said to the man. "Take these coins and let there be no bad blood between us. You've done right by me before."

"Sindbad," the man stammered, "she is Dakini, is she not?"

"That's true Drugo, but I must ask you not to tell anyone what you have seen here. I am *ahem* aiding the young sister in her holy mission. It is very important."

The eunuch left. Sindbad looked at the Dakini. With her eyes cloaked behind the veil, there was no way for him to guess what she was thinking. He doubted she had been impressed by his lie.

"I brought you some new clothes," he said. "The soldiers won't give up their search and they'll be looking for a Dakini. Luckily, Jahalia is a large city. I doubt any of the soldiers we encountered knew who I was or how to track me down. "

She accepted the bundle of clothes he gave her, but did not lift her veil to look at them.

"Will I have to remove my veil?" she asked him.

"Definitely," Sindbad answered. "If someone sees you wearing that veil they will instantly know what you are. I'm uncertain if we have to escape the city, but until Khalid gives up the search for his sword, we need to keep a very low profile."

"It is forbidden to allow others to see my eyes," she said.

"I know, but we have no choice. All the soldiers in the city are looking for us. There is a veil among the clothes that covers the lower half of your face. It will have to do."

She felt through the clothes with her fingers.

"These clothes are too revealing. My honour will be tainted."

"It is the clothes of the dancers that live here. For the moment, it is all I have."

"Will you allow me privacy while I change?" she asked him.

Sindbad shrugged. "Go over in the corner. I can turn the other way."

The Dakini did as she was told. Sindbad listened as she disrobed and put her old garments on the floor. He couldn't help himself, so he turned and looked. The evening sun shone upon her naked derrière. She had a stunning figure, her waist was incredibly thin and her hips were well rounded. Her little cheeks were dainty and firm.

"I know that you are looking," she told him. "I'm not pleased, but I can't stop you. It is my duty to serve you in all things."

"I'm sorry," Sindbad stammered, slightly taken aback. How did she know he was looking at her from behind? "If you are to be my servant there will have to be some intimacy between us."

"If you say so," she muttered.

Once the Dakini was dressed, she turned back around. She was stunning to behold. The first thing that drew Sindbad's gaze was her almond-shaped eyes. The eyes were accentuated by her olive coloured skin and by long, dark lashes. Long, straight raven-black hair framed her angular face. Her beautiful mouth and narrow chin were now hidden by her new face veil.

The robes that had hidden her figure were now gone. Her belly and incredibly slim waist were completely exposed. The brassiere gave lift to her breasts and offered a good view of the cleavage between them. Her muscles were well toned, but not quite as large as those of female labourers. Sindbad speculated that her strength came from her enlightened mind rather than her physicality. He had heard stories of ascetic monks with barely any meat on their bones that were able to lift large boulders and hurl them several meters away.

The skirt had a slit on one side that extended its entire length and left one leg exposed. The belly dancers knew exactly how wide they could sway their hips without showing too much. Over the skirt, she wore a hip scarf trimmed with golden sequins that rattled softly when she moved.

"You're beautiful," Sindbad stammered.

The Dakini didn't answer. Her arched eyebrows narrowed. There was an intensity to her stare that made Sindbad nervous, and made him remember that this girl was a trained killer. She could strike him down at any time and there would be no way for him to defend himself.

Sindbad swallowed. "Nobody should be able to identify you as a Dakini in these clothes. I should probably be the one to carry the weapons when we travel. A dancer with a pair of swords would cause suspicion."

The Dakini simply nodded. An awkward silence ensued. Sindbad started thinking that perhaps having made this holy woman into his personal servant and bodyguard was a tad selfish. It didn't matter. He was already guilty of worse offences. Probably. Sinbad sat himself down on the pile of carpets on the floor. The Dakini was left standing, seemingly determined not to look at him.

After a while, Sindbad felt compelled to break the silence. "What is your name?" he asked her.

"I am Dakini," she responded with surprise. "I thought you knew that."

"I did. But what is your name?"

"I do not have a name. When the Dakini have finished our training we swear an oath of subsumation. We cease to exist as individuals."

"Why?"

"It is part of the way to enlightenment. We deny the flesh and we deny the self. This allows us to transcend, to become something more than we were. When we die, we are reborn as angels. Forever will we serve our goddess Manat in the heavens. Those that are too attached to their names, to their selves, to the needs of the flesh and their earthly delights and sorrows are doomed to be reincarnated on Earth for eternity. They are bound to an eternal wheel of suffering and ignorance."

"Reincarnation doesn't sound so bad," Sindbad laughed. "It means we are immortal. It means that if I fuck things up in this life, I'll get a new chance in my next life."

"It means," the Dakini said with some restrained anger in her voice, "that you will keep fucking up through all your lives and pay the consequences for it. Unless you decide to break the cycle."

"But why would you want to be an angel?" Sindbad argued. "Angels have no emotions. They are servile playthings of the gods. They feel no happiness or joy. They have no free will."

"Angels are pure. They have no weakness. They do not suffer. When I walk through the streets of Jahalia, I hear the cries of the sick and the poor. I smell their degradation. Thanks to my veil, I at least don't have to see it."

Sindbad pondered the woman's words. She had a fair point. There was a lot of suffering in Jahalia and he had endured a great deal of suffering in his life himself. Still, there was much in the world that could be enjoyed.

"I'm not on good terms with most of the gods," Sindbad said drily, "and I have never worried much about enlightenment. But there is one god that I sometimes still pray to: Eshu."

"Eshu? But he is not one of the seven."

"No, but he is my god. I prayed to him last night and he told me to go steal Khalid's sword. It is thanks to him that I was able to defeat you in combat."

"I have accepted my defeat," the Dakini said with sorrow in her voice, "but you should not be too proud of your victory. You cheated by using an enchanted sword. A holy sword given by the heavens to protect mankind."

Sindbad shrugged. "That doesn't make my triumph any less sweet."

"Victory is meaningless unless one fought honourably and fairly."

"A victory is never meaningless as long as something has been gained. The world is not just. Some of us are born into wealth and power. Some of us have trained all their lives to become invincible warrior monks. Those of us that were born into poverty are forced to make up the difference, by whatever means necessary. That is why I pray to Eshu. He enjoys shaking the board and levelling the playing field."

"A victory is meaningless unless it is also a victory over the self. Only by defeating your own weakness can you hope to be released from the wheel of reincarnation."

"But I don't want to give up my mortality. I want to stay on earth forever and continue my search for experience and glory."

"And have you gained much glory from your deeds?"

"Not in this life. Not really. Perhaps in past lives, but I wouldn't know about that."

"Through my training as a Dakini I gained knowledge of my past physical incarnations. I have suffered through many lifetimes. When my soul leaves this body, I will not be reborn on earth and I will forget that I was once a being separate from others. Then I will truly be a servant of the Goddess."

"Really? You remember your past lives? What were you before you were a Dakini?"

"I'd rather not speak of it."

"Tell me. I want to know."

"I was once a daughter of the Valkyrie and a shield maiden. My hair was fair as the snow that lay in the valley I lived in. In another life, I was an Amazon. I stalked the rainforests of the Deep South like a panther. Once I was a sorceress in a city even further to the east than we are now. I drank the blood of virgins and consorted with demons." She spoke with a pained voice. "Once I was a courtesan and lived in a place similar to the one we are in now."

"You were a courtesan?" Sindbad exclaimed.

"Yes. I enthralled the entire noble cast of my city with my mastery of the Dance of the Seven Veils. The King even made me his concubine. I had more power in the court than even the Queen. But when the King died, his son exiled me. I had become old then and had lost my old charms and talents. I walked into the desert and found a cave that sheltered me. In the cave, I meditated. That is when I first became aware of my past incarnations. I realised that all my many lives had been meaningless and filled with suffering. I decided that I wanted to break the cycle and free my soul. I prayed and meditated for many days until I died of starvation. After I was reborn again, I was given to the cloister before I even learned to speak. Our sphere circled around the burning orb eighteen times before I had come so far in my training that I was able to remember this."

Sindbad let out a whistle. "Wow. You know the Dance of the Seven Veils?"

"No. Before I completed my training, I erased as much of my memory of both my past and current lives as I could," the Dakini said, but added, "Through meditation, I could access those memories again and relearn everything I have once known."

"Would you do that if I asked you?" Sindbad asked with excitement in his voice. "Would you teach yourself the dance again?"

"I would have no choice. My body and my mind is yours."

"We could make a lot of money, if you did that. The Caliph might even ask you to perform for him."

"Is that your intention with me?" the Dakini asked. "You are planning to use me for your greed?"

"Use you? I think we could make a great team. You are very capable and I have street-smarts. We'll be rich within a year. I promise you."

"I will do whatever you ask of me, but I am not pleased to hear your plans."

"Then you should simply relax and let me lead. We are moving out of this slum, you and me."

"Can I ask you a question?" the Dakini inquired.

"Sure."

"You had a friend with you when we met. He used the gong to deafen me. Are you not worried about what happened to him after we made our escape?"

"I guess they either caught him or he got away," Sindbad answered drily.

"Do you not feel an obligation to help him after he saved you?"

Sindbad sighed. "Hermes is a good guy, sure. He has at least done right by me most of the time. But if he was caught by Khalid's soldiers there is little to be done for him."

The Dakini lifted the scabbard that held Khalid's sword. "I could free him for you," she offered.

"You just want a quick heroic death. Even with an enchanted sword, you can't possibly expect to be able to break him out of the Royal Dungeon. You would have to slaughter every guard and soldier in Jahalia."

"So you are just going to let them kill him? After he helped you win the duel and later saved us from the guards?"

"Khalid has his whole fucking army stationed inside the city at the moment. If Hermes is in the dungeons, then he is on his own. End of story. I command you not to bring up this subject again."

The Dakini's icy stare made Sindbad shiver. He wondered how many men she had killed. The remains of a group of desert raiders had been found in an oasis outside the city, all of them decapitated. Sindbad didn't dare ask the Dakini if she had been responsible for this act of righteous slaughter.

"You said you could access memories from your past lives and teach yourself skills that you once knew," Sindbad said in an effort to change the subject.

"Through meditation I can relive all my past experiences, from my present and past lives."

"That sounds like an incredibly useful skill. Why haven't you used it before?"

"I am of the Dakini now. I am not a person, but a tool of justice and righteousness. I have no interest in or use for such knowledge."

"Now that you serve me, I want to make use of your full potential," Sindbad declared. The mad glare in his eye was back. "We will dig up whatever useful knowledge and skills you possess, starting with the Dance of the Seven Veils."

"I believe it may take me a couple of hours of meditation."

"That's fine. My body is aching after our duel. I need to rest."

The Dakini sat down on the floor and put both her feet on the opposing thigh. She folded up a piece of cloth and tied it over her eyes. Then she let her hands rest on her thighs with open palms. Her chest began to very slowly rise and fall. Her lips recited a mantra in a language that was not familiar to Sindbad. It was obvious that she was in some kind of trance, completely oblivious to her physical surroundings, reliving part of her past life.

The Thief and his Whore

While Sindbad was watching the Dakini from his bed, he heard the rattling of sequins from the corridor. It had to be one of the courtesans. The beaded curtains parted and a woman stepped inside the room. Her appearance was not Jahali. Her hair was fiery red and her skin was pure alabaster. Sindbad knew the soft features of her face well. It was Aisha, his childhood friend and protégée, who had become tired of the streets and had traded begging and stealing for the relative comforts of the brothel. She had gained some weight since last he saw her, meaning there was some extra meat on her already heavy breasts and ample bottom. The contours of her body still turned pleasantly inwards at the waist, though.

"Hello, Sindbad," she said in an alluring voice.

Sindbad pointed at a diamond-encrusted piercing in her naval. "A gift from one of your clients?"

A shadow came over her face, but her smile quickly returned. "I wish you would give me something to wear, but you never give me anything."

"I shared my food with you when we were young."

"Nothing expensive, I mean."

"Who gave it to you?" Sindbad asked, not bothering to mask his jealousy.

"Khalid," she said with some pride in her voice.

"Khalid?" Sindbad could not keep himself from laughing. "Really? I know he is a great hero and all, but he is really a loser."

Aisha ignored him.

"Do you require my services?" she asked.

"I supposed," Sinbad said, "but my muscles are all sore. A blowjob is all I can take, tonight."

Aisha suddenly became aware of the meditating Dakini in the corner.




Castles Made of Sand Ch. 01



"Who is that?" she asked.

"That is... er... Salome," Sindbad answered.

"And what is she doing in the corner?"

"She is resting. We've been fucking most of the day. That is why my body is broken."

Sindbad knew his lie was not at all believable, but he didn't feel the need to explain himself to a whore. Aisha shrugged and knelt before him and took his shaft into her delicate hands. He felt her thick luscious lips slowly envelop around the rubber crown of his member. The sensation was so strong that he had to restrain himself so the session didn't end prematurely. She knew to be careful and worked slowly, applying no more pressure than he was able to take. From time to time, she would release the head and instead caress his shaft with her tongue. This allowed him some time to recover.

Aisha let her hand glide down her stomach until her fingers slid in between her fat and swollen lips. Her probing fingers located her little quivering bud of pleasure, but was careful not to touch it. Instead, she softly circled the moist river around it. 

She opened her eyes and found Sindbad looking back at her. With the top of his member in her mouth, she gave him a coy smile. He ran his fingers through her red hair and stroked her lovingly behind the ear.

Before, it had been just the two of them. They had been two lost little urchins out on the streets. Their days had been spent begging, stealing or digging through people's trash. Sindbad was the eldest and had lived on the streets the longest. When Aisha was orphaned, he had taken her under his wings and taught her the tools of his trade. Over time, they had teamed up with other kids, but they had always remained a close pair. They had been like brother and sister and, for a very short while, lovers.

Aisha remembered how Sindbad had serenaded her when they slept beneath the banyan trees, how he had always tried to make sure she had enough to eat and how he had told her of his god, Eshu - the patron of all thieves, vagabonds and troublemakers. He had promised her that one day they would be rich. That it would be their turn to live in a palace. He said this with so much certainty that she had sometimes believed him.

Aisha felt herself getting closer to climaxing. She clamped her thighs around her hand and squeezed it against her pussy. Her body began to spasm. She opened her eyes and looked up at Sindbad, only to find his face turned away from her. She followed the direction of his gaze and realised that he was staring at the meditating woman in the corner. He put his own hands around his member and began to rub his foreskin against its head, seemingly oblivious to Aisha.

Sindbad had seen many beautiful women in his time. The Dakini had still managed to touch a part of his soul that had lain dormant for some time. He was enthralled by her. Even as she sat there with her face covered by a face veil and a blindfold, he couldn't stop staring at her. It was like a magical glow emanated from her skin. The sight of her perky breasts packed inside her brassiere was too much for him to handle. White goo exploded from his dick.

Aisha allowed the white rivulets to rain down over her face. Sindbad looked at how her face was bathed in his seed. She was beautiful and he still cared for her, but at the same time, she represented everything he despised: submissiveness, laziness, fatalism and passivity. There was nothing left of the girl he had grown up with, he felt no kinship to the plump creature that lay before his feet. She was inferior to him in every way. He wanted to hate her and he wanted to stop coming to see her, but he couldn't. During their years spent together, she had carved a special place in his heart and there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn't ever abandon her completely, however pathetic and servile she became.

Aisha smiled as she saw the coldness fade from Sindbad's eyes. She strode atop his leg and began grinding her pussy against his thigh. This was how she had achieved her very first orgasm, just a couple of months before she joined the brothel. During the four years that had passed since then - it felt like several lifetimes - she had loved many different men in many different ways. Rocking back and forth on top her old protector's leg was still her favourite way to climax. A euphoric gasp passed between her clenched teeth, and it was over.

"Sindbad, can I stay with you tonight?" she whispered into his ear.

"Sure," Sindbad answered, seemingly indifferent. "Go get some water for us to wash with and let's hit the hay. Every muscle and joint in my body is burning with pain. You have no idea what I've been through today."

Aisha got up and scurried out the door, with her plump ass jiggling behind her. Sindbad couldn't believe how much larger she had grown. The brothel kept her well fed. The rich merchants of Jahilia liked their wives skinny and their whores fat. She would have been useless as a thief now. There was no way she would be able to climb a tall wall or outrun the city watch.

He looked down at the Dakini, still meditating. He had told Aisha that her name was Salome. It was a good a name as any. She was almost a perfect antipode to Aisha; the Dakini was strong, graceful, disciplined and capable, all traits that Aisha no longer possessed. They had one thing in common, though: their servile nature - Aisha to her costumers and the Dakini to her code of honour.

After a while, Aisha returned with a bowl of water. She shot a suspicious glance towards the Dakini before she went and knelt before Sindbad and began washing him. Afterwards they curled up together in the blankets. Jahali nights are as cold as the days are warm, so Sindbad wrapped himself tightly around Aisha so that he could share the warmth of her body. His penis even snugged itself into her ass crack where it achieved a comfortable semi-erection. Aisha wanted to fall asleep, but was kept awake by Sindbad's constant groping. She wasn't surprised. He loved to play with her body while they lay together.

After a while the groping stopped. Aisha felt her eyelids grow heavy. They were about to close when Sindbad suddenly spoke.

"I need to ask you something, Aisha."

Aisha rolled onto her side, facing him, her elbows bent, her head resting on her palm. Her big breasts lay on top of the other. The moonlight turned her pale skin luminous. She was incredibly beautiful - an epitome of femininity. Sindbad couldn't help himself from loving her.

"Why did you leave me?" he asked bluntly.

She closed her eyes. "We were starving, Sindbad. I had no choice."

Sindbad rolled away from her. "You had a choice," he muttered. "I stayed on the street and I survived."

It took both of them some time to fall asleep.

The Knife in the Dark

Salome - still unaware of having been given this name by her new master - awoke from her mediations. The smell of sweat and other bodily fluids seethed into her nostrils. There was another human in the room. She had the smell of a harlot - someone who allowed others to defile the sanctity of her flesh. She and Sindbad were fast asleep.

Salome became aware of a man coming up the stairs. His heart was pounding and his palms were sweaty. She heard him pull a dagger from its sheath. He whispered some sort of mantra to himself. He was nervous - terrified. He had come to kill. She pondered whether it was her duty to protect any of the people inside the brothel from this man. Everyone here were sinners and unworthy of her help. Soon, however, it became obvious to her that the man was walking towards the room that she was in. It seemed like he knew where he was going.

If Salome allowed the man to murder Sindbad, then she would be free of her bound to him. Then she could go back to her holy pilgrimage. Salome knew, however, that that was not something she could allow herself to do. She had a code to follow and her code demanded that she protect her new master. As the assassin drew nearer to their room, she hid herself behind the door. Silently, she drew her sword from its scabbard. The man didn't know that his life was forfeit, but as soon as he stepped into the room, Salome severed the twin arteries in his neck. Then she threw him out the window, down into the street.

Had Sinbad been awake, he would probably have insisted on hiding the body before making a quick escape through the city. The Dakini, however, does not hide their kills. They usually approach their targets in broad daylight and leave the bodies where they fall. Salome therefore simply resumed her meditation, knowing that she had performed her duty to her master, as dictated by her code of honour. If it occurred to her that the body laying below their window could cause her master trouble, then she did not care.



Castles Made of Sand Ch. 02



Edited by AnotherWannabe

****

This story is the second part of a series. In this chapter, you will be introduced to...

Enyo: An eighteen year old girl who, for the last four years, has been struggling to earn herself a place within the decidedly patriarchal hierarchy of organized crime in Jahalia.

The Brotherhood: Whether you believe they are fighting for the emancipation of the casteless or that they are simply a gang of bullies that terrorize the slums, the Brotherhood is one of Jahalia's most powerful organisations. This gang of cutthroats, pickpockets and other ruffians could be considered a standing army.

The Prince of Thieves: The elusive leader of the Brotherhood. He is currently trying to cement his power over the slums in preparation for an anticipated food shortage in Jahalia. His habit of smoking cannabis has led people to believe he may have some connection to the Nizari Assassins.

Circe: When people die, they are returned to the wheel of reincarnation where they lose their memory and sense of self, before being born again in a new body. Circe is one of the few who has mastered the dark art of soul-walking. When her body dies, she retains control of her spirit and can freely choose a new body to inhabit. This has allowed her to accumulate arcane knowledge over several lifetimes.

Orlando: An enigma.

... and if you've read the first part you'll remember ...

Sindbad: A young thief with a chip on his shoulder. Sindbad survived as an orphan on the harsh and unforgiving streets of Jahalia. Now he is in his mid-twenties and his fortunes haven't improved much.

Aisha: This estranged companion from Sindbad's teenage years now works as a prostitute in one of Jahalia's brothels. Sindbad will sometimes visit his old flame, though his feelings towards her has changed considerably.

Salome: A warrior of the reclusive Dakini sect. After losing a duel against Sinbad, she swore eternal obedience to him, despite his unfair use of an enchanted sword. 

*****

A Sister to Brothers

"Where is your veil, girl?" a man screamed.

He was pointing at a young girl, circling the outskirts of the market. She was dressed in a pair of worn khaki pants and a thorn tunic, which hung loosely around her slight and slender frame. She stood only a little more than five feet tall. There was something unnatural about the way she walked. It looked as if she suffered from a stiffness in one of her legs. Overall, she seemed an easy mark for a repressed old man wanting to engage in some cathartic violence.

"We don't accept slum rats in the Merchant's Quarter," another old buffoon joined in.

"She looks casteless," a third one shouted. "Guards! There is a casteless here."

The girl now found herself cornered by five angry men. Her only way of escape was the alley behind her. She tried to outrun the bullies, but the limp in her right leg impeded her. It didn't take her pursuers long to catch up. One of them grabbed her arms and held her fast. She tried to struggle, but there was no strength in her for a fight.

"I'll hold her while you strip her clothes off," the man said to the others.

"What are you talking about?" another said, "I thought we were only going to teach her a lesson!"

"The gods have no sympathy for her kind and so neither should we," the man answered. "She should be honoured that we're allowing her to pleasure us." He put his hand on her right breast. "Pull her pants down!"

The other men hesitated. One of them looked at the girl. She was quite beautiful, despite being both dirty and undernourished. There didn't seem to be any fear in her eyes. Perhaps she had wanted them to assault her - goaded them, even. A casteless slut coming to the upper city looking for someone to fill her little snatch?

Suddenly, several cloaked figures descended from the rooftops. They blocked both exits out of the alley. Some of them were loading crossbows. The others had already placed arrows on their bows. The surrounded men realised that they had run so far into the alley that they were out of view of the market.

"Peace, friends," the leader of the ambushers said and pulled back his hood. He was a very young man with a fox-like face and a goatee beard. "My name is Jatayu. We don't want your blood. We simply hoped you might have brought some coins with you to the market today. A donation to us poor, honourable folk would undoubtedly make the gods forgive you for what you were planning to do our little accomplice."

The man holding the girl drew a knife and held it threateningly against her throat. "Let us pass," he demanded," or she'll get it."

"We are thieves, my friend," Jatayu laughed. "Why do you believe we care so much about what happens to our bait? If you slit her throat, we would have no problem finding a replacement. There are plenty of beggars on the streets looking for work."

The man decided not to push his luck and lowered his knife. The girl responded by jabbing her elbow into the man's gut. Then she wrestled his knife from his hand and raised her arm to stab him. It seemed she was stronger and quicker than she had appeared earlier. Just before the strike fell, Jatayu stepped forward and grabbed her wrist.

"Stop it, Enyo," he shouted. "No unnecessary killing."

He threw the girl to the ground. She rolled around and landed face down in the dirt.

The would-be rapists were quickly relieved of their valuables and stripped of their expensive garments. For a laugh, the thieves even took the loincloth from the man who had pulled the knife and bound his hands on his back, keeping him from hiding his unimpressive manhood when he returned to the market.

The Prince of Thieves

Three days after Sindbad's duel against the Dakini...

The full moon was out. Enyo entered the gates of the secret hideout. Vanity was rarely a sin a struggling thief could afford and tonight she looked more like a scarecrow than a person. The rags she wore were torn in several places. Her black hair was greasy and tangled. There were several cuts and bruises on her lower arms. Despite being exhausted, she walked purposefully and with feline grace. A proud smirk lay on her lips. She carried a large sack on her shoulder, filled with the takings of the day. Her hard work had paid off. Soon, nobody would question her ability to contribute to the Brotherhood.

There was a party in the courtyard. It seemed no expense had been spared. Enyo frowned at the sight of several voluptuous women who frolicked around the tables. Many of them were completely naked, the rest were in various stages of undress. Their abundant flesh jiggled as they danced. It seemed as if thieves and whores had a certain accord - both groups possessed something the other craved.

This deep into the massive slum area of Jahalia, the thieves didn't have to worry about drawing attention. There was not a single guard for miles around to hear them. Walking all the way from the inner slums to the Merchant Quarter every day was a chore, but it was worth it to keep the guild safe. It also meant that Enyo's fellow thieves could party and sodomise each other with impunity. Consequently, the hideout wasn't the best place to get a good night sleep and Enyo would normally stay away as much as possible.

As she found her way past the crowd of people, Enyo spotted a whore whose face she recognised. It was Aisha. Before Aisha joined the brothel and Enyo the Brotherhood, the two of them had been close friends. Now, they had little to say to each other. Aisha was completely naked, carrying a pair of heavy mugs in her hands. The men slapped her across her plump bottom when she passed them. Enyo offered her a nod and a polite smile, before she moved on. There was no doubt in Enyo's mind that it was better life to be a thief than a whore, but judging from Aisha's wide, voluptuous hips, at least the whores didn't have to worry about starving.

Jatayu was sitting behind a table with one of his goons on each flank. Their faces were flushed and it was obvious that they'd been drinking for a good while. Lazy fuckers! Enyo walked up to them with her bundle and laid it down upon the table.

"If it isn't my little bird," Jatayu sniggered.

He took the bundle and tossed it into the pile with the rest of the day's loot.

Enyo's eyes widened. "Aren't you going to look inside?" she asked him.

"It looked adequate," Jatayu responded indifferently.

Thinking about the hours she had spent stalking the streets made Enyo want to cry. She could move quicker around the city than anyone else and get to places that were beyond the reach of others, but her birdlike body was not built for endurance. The day had taken all she had and more. Her muscles ached for rest.

"Why are you still standing there?" Jatayu spat. "Are you eyeing me up?"

Enyo felt it was prudent to leave quickly. Jatayu was a right bastard. She did not trust him.

For once, there seemed to be enough food to go around. Enyo had feared she would have to creep back into the streets to get herself a bit to eat after having unloaded her package. Instead, she picked up a dirty bowl from a table and scooped up some soup from a cauldron. A noblewoman would have fainted from the strange smell. Enyo, on the other hand, felt her mouth water. It didn't matter what it was made from, only that it would remove the aching rumble in her tummy.

Enyo was happy to be joined at her table by a familiar and friendly face. A dapperly dressed gentleman with sun kissed hair and gentle features sat down beside her.

"You look like a mess, my nightingale," he said.

"Don't call me that, Orlando," Enyo answered.

Orlando laughed. "I wish I'd have the opportunity to play my lute to your song one last time. Alas, I finally gathered the money for a passage on a caravan."

"So, that is it? You're really leaving?"

"Yes, young sister. I don't think I can survive this city much longer. Hundreds of thousands of people clamped together behind walls and surrounded by miles of desert. There must be places that are friendlier than this." He sighed. "It will be a long and arduous journey. Dangerous, too. And I will never see my nightingale again."

"If life is so much easier beyond the desert, why do so many people come here?"

"They are fooled by the legends of Jahalia's wealth."

Enyo looked at him. "Are you sure you're not falling into the same trap?"

Orlando laughed. "If I reach the end of the desert and find that the rest of the world is not better than this, then I will become a monk and hope the gods will free me from the curse of rebirth."

"I've been thinking about leaving, too," Enyo said, thoughtfully.

"I'd advice against that," Orlando said. "A beautiful girl travelling for weeks on a caravan full of men. It doesn't sound like a good idea."

They sat together and talked for a while. When Orlando had to leave, he told Enyo that he hoped he would be able to see her again before he left the city.

Enyo was so tired that the thought of leaving the hideout to find a secluded place to sleep did not seem appealing. Instead, she decided to go and have a look in one of the rooms. As she should have guessed, it turned out to be filled with people. Thieves and whores were rubbing their sweaty bodies against each other. Enyo saw Aisha on her hands and knees. Her heavy breasts danced with every pelvic thrust from the man behind her. The men who hadn't got themselves a wench were either fucking each other or tending to themselves. The room stank of sweat and the air was moist. Sleeping in there would obviously not be possible.

It was likely that the other rooms would be in an equal state. Enyo decided it would be wisest to simply leave. On her way out, she ran into Jatayu and his goons.

"Why are you leaving?" he asked her. "Shouldn't you be inside with the other whores?"

"I've earned my place with the guild," Enyo said and spat on the ground to show that she wouldn't be intimidated.

"We are a Brotherhood," Jatayu sneered. "We don't accept women into our ranks. We buy them!"

Enyo lost it. She leaped forward and hit the much taller boy in the jaw, drawing blood from his mouth. He lost his balance, cursed and spat red. Enyo cradled her hand against her chest. It felt like she'd shattered a bone. Some of the men laughed, causing Jatayu's face to darken. Soon, he had regained his composure. There was no smile on his lips now, only cruel determination.

"Hold her for me, Tybalt," he said and pulled his cock out of his pants.

Enyo's wounded hand was grabbed and twisted behind her back. She tried to break free, but the man holding her was almost twice as big as her.

"Enyo, I need to talk to you!"

Enyo saw the Prince of Thieves beckoning her to join him in his alcove. Tybalt immediately let go of her arm. The other men dispersed. Only Jatayu remained. He glared hatefully at Enyo while he slowly tucked his member back into his pants.

The Prince was puffing away on a kiseru pipe. There was always an aura of calm about him, as if he was unaware and undistracted by his surroundings. Still, he always knew everything that was going on in the guild and most of that which were going on in the city. Enyo sat herself down in the chair opposite him. She had no idea the Prince would be there that night, but she was glad. He made her feel safe.

After a couple of minute of silence, the Prince began to speak. "A couple of days ago we sent a brother to kill your old friend Sindbad. Our brother was killed and left in the street outside the brothel where Sindbad was staying. Sindbad was seen in the company of a woman. We believe this woman is a Dakini."

"Why would Sindbad be with a Dakini?" Enyo asked. "And why would a Dakini be with him?"

"There was a duel. The Dakini fought the one who had stolen Khalid's sword and lost. When soldiers arrived on the scene, the Dakini helped the thief escape."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because Dakini submit to anyone who is able to defeat them in single combat."

Enyo rubbed her temples. "You're telling me that Sindbad stole Khalid's sword and used it to defeat a Dakini?"

The Prince raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't that sound like something he would do?"

"I don't know. It seem a little much, even for him. I guess he's grown even bolder."

"There is a sorceress in this city that I have no doubt you will have heard of. Her name is Circe." The Prince puffed away on his pipe as he spoke. His words came slowly. "She wants you to track down Sindbad and ask for the services of his ... new pet."

"Why would he agree to that after we tried to have him killed?"

"That is a problem that you must solve. I assume Circe will be able to compensate him generously for his help."

"I'm not sure about this. Sindbad and I had a falling out. After this failed assassination, he might ask this Dakini to chop my head off."

"No problem," the Prince said, blowing smoke through his nostrils. "You don't have to accept this job. If you wish to squander this opportunity, you can go back and resume the celebrations with your brothers." There was something cold and sinister about his tone.

Enyo looked at him in disbelief. "You will allow them to rape me?"

"Let them rape you?" The Prince asked, pretending not to understand. "I will sit here and smoke my pipe and drink my sake."

Enyo hesitated. She had not expected the old man to be this callous.

"Listen, young one," the Prince whispered in a serious tone. "I have an advice for you. Obey those with power. I have protected you, because I believe you have potential. If I lose my faith in you, then you will lose my protection. When my investments don't pay off, I cut my losses."

They both sat there in silence. After a while, the Prince decided that the fact that Enyo hadn't left must mean that she had accepted the job.

"The sorceress and I are very different," the Prince said. "I am a pragmatist. I do that which is wise. She is too powerful to have any need of wisdom. She does as she pleases. If she were to kill you, then the Brotherhood would not retaliate."

Enyo scowled at him.

"This is an opportunity for you to get ahead girl," the Prince assured her. "Don't squander it."

"I won't," Enyo said indignantly.

"You may be dismayed to know that I'm not sending you alone. I want you to take a more senior brother with you."

"Who?"

"Jatayu."

Enyo's jaw dropped. She looked on in disbelief as the Prince gestured for Jatayu to join them.

"You've done a good job lately," the Prince said to Jatayu, once he had joined them.

"Thank you, master," Jatayu answered.

"There is a woman waiting for you in one of the smaller rooms upstairs. I believe you'll like her. She's a petite little thing. Call it a going away present. I am sending you and Enyo to work for Circe."

Jatayu grimaced. "To work for the sorceress? With Enyo?"

"Yes," the Prince said. "You'll be leaving tomorrow night. Scurry off now!"

As Enyo was about to leave, the Prince grabbed her arm. "It is a cruel world that we live in," he said. "You have no friends. There is no one that will protect you freely. I have given you an opportunity to work for one of the most powerful individuals in Jahalia, but with great opportunity comes great risk."

The Witches' Menagerie

Enyo thought Jahalia was much more beautiful by night. The darkness masked a lot of its ugliness and the soft moonlight turned the brownish clay buildings blue. Even the chilling cold was preferable to the overwhelming heat of the sun. The smell remained the same, but Enyo had lived in the city long enough to consider herself a native and didn't pay it much mind.

The walk to the witch's mansion was a long one. She lived close the centre of the city, almost at the Palace District - a place that posed considerable danger to two scruffy looking people from the slums. They needed to stay close to the shadows and not draw attention to themselves. 

Enyo remembered that Sindbad had said that the Merchant quarter was simply a better smelling slum. Most of those that lived there were poor, and those that were not needed guards to protect themselves from those that were. In her work for the Brotherhood, she had seen that he was right.

No words were shared between Enyo and Jatayu as they walked. Enyo was carrying two knives - one visible and a smaller one that she had concealed. Jatayu was much taller and heavier than his companion. He did not realize what a real and lethal threat she posed to him, should he go too far. They were a funny pair - both wishing harm on the other, but knowing their hands were bound by the man they called master.

Just as the sun was rising again, they arrived at the stairs leading up to Circe's mansion. It looked more like a palace or a temple. A man greeted them at the door. He looked ordinary enough - middle-aged, simple clothes, unremarkable features - except that his ears looked like those on a donkey. Beside him, on either side, lay a docile tiger.

"Welcome to the Circe's humble abode," he said. "My name is Midas. I presume you come from the Brotherhood."

"That we do," Jatayu confirmed.

His voice was shaky. Neither he nor Enyo had ever seen a tiger nor many other exotic animals.

"Then allow me to take you inside," Midas said, gesturing them to follow him.

Through a short corridor they came into a large hall. The sight that greeted the two thieves there was one of utter madness and absurdity. The room was filled with both animals and people, most of which were naked. Looking closely, however, it became clear that most of them were neither man nor beast, but something in-between, bearing the features of both. They seemed to all be engaging in various acts of perversity. A naked man, with a raging boner and horns on his head, was riding atop a horse with the torso of a busty, young girl. A large bull, that walked on two legs and had fingers on his forearms, chased after a woman with hoofs. A group of women were cleaning their fur with their tongues.




Castles Made of Sand Ch. 02



Luckily, Midas was quick to lead Enyo and Jatayu away from the pandemonium and up the stairs to the upper floor. Enyo looked over her shoulders as they ascended the steps, gazing with horror at the bizarre menagerie of abominations.

They arrived inside a room where the air was steamy and hot. A woman was sitting in a beautiful malachite bathtub. She had fierce, catlike eyes and a slightly lopsided mouth, that made it seem as if she was constantly smirking. Long black curls fell from her head and extended all the way down to the marble floor. Her calves were dangling off the edge of either side of the tub. Jatayu's lustful eyes found themselves drawn to her lush breast that were floating in the water.

"Mistress Circe, these are the two sent by the Prince," Midas said.

"Thank you," the woman said. "It seems the large one is finding me pleasing to look at. Tell me, boy, do my breasts adhere to your standard of beauty?"

Jatayu was taken aback by her directness.

"Yes," he stammered.

"How wonderful," Circe said. "I'm a sucker for flattery. Tell me, what about them is it that you like?"

"Their size," Jatatu said.

Circe laughed at his nervousness. "That is nice of you to say, but I sense that size is not that important to you. I think you prefer a pair of tits that are perky and firm and can easily be cupped inside your hands."

Jatayu didn't know how to answer that.

Circe turned to Enyo. "You are a precious thing, my dear. Young, but just ripe enough to be plucked."

Enyo looked back at the woman in the tub. The fact that she was often mistaken for a boy meant that Enyo could move around the streets of Jahalia relatively safely, but it wasn't the first time she had felt a sting of jealousy looking at the feminine features of another woman. 

"My dear, look at the state of you," Circe said, looking at Enyo's gaunt face and scrawny limbs. "Your master assured me of your skill. Please, tell me yourself what it is you can do."

Enyo cleared her throat. "I can climb any wall with the aid of my bare hands. With the aid of a pole, I can leap great distances. At night, I can merge with the shadows and become invisible. I can walk or run across a stretched rope, both tight and loose."

Circe lifted her hands and applauded. "That is very impressive, my dear. Does your brother possess an equal set of skills?"

Jatayu cut in. "I have much more experience than she. I was raised within the Brotherhood."

"But you can't pole vault," Circe said.

Jatayu bit his lip. He realised that the witches' smile was deceiving. She was a predator and this was her den. A predator that apparently enjoyed playing with her food.

Circe turned back to Enyo. "I think I may be able to make use of you. The Prince of Thieves speak highly of you and you claim to be capable. More importantly, you may know how to find Sindbad. There is however one thing that I value above all else. Can you guess what that is, girl?"

"Obedience and loyalty," Enyo said, remembering the words of her master.

"Correct," Circe laughed. "I therefore require you to perform a symbolic act of submission for me."

Enyo gulped. There was something ominous in the tone of Circe's voice.

"What is your name, dear?" Circe asked.

"Enyo."

"Then, if you are ready to begin, Enyo, darling, would you please unbuckle your pants and pull them down to your knees?"

Enyo felt her cheeks grow warm.

"From your hesitation, I gather that you would rather not do this," Circe said.

"Yes, it just wouldn't be..." Enyo stammered.

Circe cut her off. "That is perfectly all right, dear."

Enyo knew perfectly well that that wasn't true. It couldn't possibly be so easy to refuse such an infamous sorceress. She remembered her master's incessant warnings. This witch would do as she pleased. Refusing her would probably not only be unwise, it would be in vain.

"I wish to do whatever you ask of me," Enyo declared in a decisive voice.

"Does that mean you reconsider my request?" Circe asked. The maliciousness in her voice was much more poorly masked this time.

"Yes," Enyo stammered.

She slowly unbuckled her belt and let her pants fall to her ankles. Jatayu was surprised to see how well-toned Enyo's legs were. With her small frame and birdlike limbs, Enyo would not strike anyone as physically impressive, but she was obviously quite strong. It made sense. Even with her lithe body, she would need some serious muscle to pull of the stunts she could do. With her clothes off, she could have looked a little intimidating had she not been so short and lithe.

Jatayu wondered at the difference between Enyo and himself. He would always flex his muscles and grit his teeth at anyone who dared challenge his authority. Enyo would keep her head down and never bragged about her accomplishments, at least not openly. It was obvious that she had been biding her time, slowly gaining the favour of the Prince without attracting too much jealousy from the others. Jatayu saw through her shrewdness. He would never let this little girl have a position of power within the guild.

Circe watched the two thieves with mischievous glee. She let one of her hands fall into the water and stroked it across her stomach until it reached the junction between her legs. There it lingered, out of view of the pair before her.

"Fold your hands behind your back, my dear," she instructed Enyo. "We want to have a good look at you." She turned to Jatayu. "Now, boy, what do you think? I have a feeling that you prefer your sister's slender form to the plumpness of the street-harlots."

"The harlot's shave the hair between their legs," Jatayu said with an impish grin. "Other than that though, you are right. Enyo is cute. Too cute to be a thief."

"You don't think she is suitable for this line of work?" Circe asked.

"No. The Brotherhood have never accepted women before. When shaking down a merchant or in a street brawl you need to be big and strong. For this type of work, you need men. Strong men. Not a stick insect with a cute face."

Circe's smile widened. "You dare say this to a woman?"

"You are sorceress," Jatayu retaliated. "You have power other women lack."

Circe laughed. "Perhaps I do. Or perhaps I just pretend I do, knowing that most are too afraid of me to test the fact."

Her laugh made two thieves feet uneasy. Especially Enyo, who stood there with her pants around her ankles, listening to the cackling of the witch, and feeling the breeze from the window caress her pubic hair. Being naked made her feel vulnerable. She had always done her best to protect her modesty while living in the Brotherhood.

"Get on your hands and knees," the witch said to Enyo.

Enyo slowly did as she was told. She looked behind her, and found that Jatayu was staring into the crack between her ass cheeks.

"Jatayu, you are going to help Enyo prove her willingness to serve," Circe said. "Take off your leather belt and hit her with it."

An evil grin formed on Jatayu's lips. He quickly unbuckled his belt and brought it down on Enyo's naked behind in a succession of quick strokes. Ugly red marks formed on her skinny cheeks. 

Enyo clenched her teeth, determined not to give Jatayu the satisfaction of hearing her scream. It wasn't like she wasn't used to pain - the pain of falling while attempting to scale a wall, the pain of being beaten by a guard, the pain of having a rich merchant throw a stone at you, the pain of going without food for days. Humiliation, however, was a different kind of pain. It burned into her soul. Enyo pondered what revenge she would unleash upon Jatayu the day he'd finally be at her mercy. 

"That's enough," Circe finally said. "Jatayu, it seems like you have enjoyed this," she continued, looking at the bulge in the front of the boy's pants. She clapped her hands and a servant entered the room. "This girl will bring you to your quarters, where she will take care of you."

Jatayu left the room with the servant. Enyo was left on the floor, shivering with pain and quaking with anger.

"Take off your shirt, girl," Circe said, "and come join me in my bath."

Enyo stood up and pulled off her sweaty tunic. The nipples on her petite breasts stood at attention. The sun hadn't fully set, yet, and the breeze that came in from the window was cold and harsh. She walked over to the tub and lowered herself into the water. It felt like forever since she had a hot bath.

"Do you like women, Enyo?" Circe asked.

Enyo looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

Circe put her hands under her floating breasts and lifted them above the water.

"Do you look at women the way men do?" she asked.

Enyo had seen women kiss and fondle each other, but she had always assumed it was something whores did to put on a show. Looking at the sorceress bosoms, Enyo had difficulty understanding the appeal of two sacks of flesh. It wasn't that she couldn't appreciate the fact that Circe was a beautiful woman, much more so than herself, but her soft features, royal demeanour and rounded curves did not inspire any carnal passions in Enyo.

"I see," Circe said. "You have a limited eye. Allow me to open it for you."

Circe handed Enyo a hand mirror and told Midas to fetch her a tiny bottle from the cupboard.

"Drink this," Circe said, while handing the bottle to Enyo, "while you look at yourself in the mirror."

Enyo reluctantly accepted the bottle, uncorked it and drank the contents. It was a bitter thick syrup. Her reflection grimaced back at her in reaction to the taste. Despite the contorted expression, Enyo suddenly found her image quite pleasing. When the aftertaste was gone from her tongue, she relaxed her face. Her big eyes looked back at her, but she ignored them, finding herself strangely drawn to her pouty little lips.

Something had happened. Something was different. She had never looked at her own reflection in this way before. The change became even more apparent when her eyes fell down upon her own chest. What she saw was more than just a pair of fleshy swells. She saw her perky breasts like a man would have seen them. Further down she could glimpse the hair that lay at the junction of her thighs. It made her dropped the mirror into the water.

Circe laughed, making Enyo look up. The sight that greeted the girl now was completely different to what she had seen before. Enyo was hypnotised by the witches floating breasts. She couldn't explain or understand their allure, but they created a craving in her that was perfectly overwhelming. Enyo leant forward, motivated by an unarticulated desire to touch that which she saw. Circe put her finger on Enyo's lip, keeping her from leaning closer.

"Not today," the witch said. "Maybe after you prove yourself. You have work to do first."

Enyo leant back into the tub and pulled her knees up to her chin. She tried to avoid looking at Circe. These lusts that the potion had created in her were new and strange. It was similar to what she would sometimes feel towards a man, though also quite different. She wanted to get away from Circe, so that she could have some time to process the change.

A woman came into the room, carefully carrying a goblet in her hand. She presented the goblet to Circe and then retrieved a raven feather for her, which Circe proceeded to dip into the goblet. Circe handed the feather to Enyo. It was covered in a glistening membrane.

"Go with Midas to the room in which Jatayu sleeps," Circe instructed Enyo. "Lay the feather underneath his pillow, then lay yourself beside him. Tomorrow morning we will dine together." She looked disapprovingly at her exposed rib bones. "You'll need your full strength for what is to come."

The Ghosts of Days Past

"I am the woman that walks alone, hunted by angels and devils. My whispers are heard by all, but remembered by few.

"The light of the golden orb illuminates and demystifies. It burns away lies and misconceptions. It's an expression of the holy Ohm - the will of God. Noon is considered to be the most holy hour, as that is when the ugliness of human life is exposed in full.

"The light of the silver orb, however, contorts and twists. It lifts the dark shadowy veil of night only a little, allowing us to peek beneath. It confuses truth by drawing the attention to certain qualities while hiding others. 

"Picture a pair laying together on a bed of blankets. Their bodies are entangled in each other. The boy's face is hidden beneath the auburn hair of the girl. It looks like the tight embrace of lovers. Once, that was what they were. Now things are different, but are the feeling of the heart made any less real by the exchange of gold or the cold bitterness of wounded pride? Is the cold draft from the window the only reason why the cling to each other so tightly?

"On the floor sits a Dakini. Her philosophy is absolutism, but even for creature such as she can you spin lies to reveal nuances and half-truths. She fears the moonlight and prefers the darkness. Her eyes are hidden behind a blindfold that guards her from that which she does not want to see, and allows her to mediate on the will of her Devi in peace. Holy radiance fills her soul, but little can be made out inside this blinding light. We leave her alone. There is little to be learned from her.

"We turn our gaze back to the lovers: Aisha, who gave up her freedom for safety; Sindbad - soon to be known as the sailor - infantilised by memories of first love and unable to let go of the girl who once inspired him to dream of a better life. 

"Sindbad's eyes open. What he sees is neither truly reality nor illusion, as the truly wise know these to be relative terms. It is the past, seen through the eyes of the present, but embellished with details that can only be remembered when the moon is full. Two familiar forms materialize before him. A pair of urchins enjoying a meal of rotten fruit and dried leaves, as if it were a cuisine worthy of kings. They are different yet similar. Both look undernourished, the dark haired girl in particular. Her skin stretches tightly over her bones. The redhead looks to be of age. Her meagre diet has not robbed her of her womanly features. The other girl is at least a few years younger and could just as easily have been a boy.

"Sindbad shoots the dark-haired urchin a quick glance to make sure she is all right. She gives him a quick nod of confirmation, before returning to her food. After that, Sindbad does not look at Enyo again. His eyes are fixed on Aisha. His gaze penetrates her clothes and his mind conjures up images of what lays beneath. Does the hair that grows between her legs share the colour of that which falls from her scalp.

"Aisha seems to have trouble swallowing her food, so Sindbad brings her his waterskin. Aisha drinks greedily from it, while Sindbad keeps his face close to hers, so that he can feel and smell her breath. 

"They go out into the night, leaving Enyo alone. In a park, they find that many people have come out of the tavern to take a break from their drinking to enjoy some lechery. Sindbad sits himself down and rests his back against the trunk of the large banyan tree. Aisha sits herself down upon his leg and clenches her thighs around his. They kiss. Soon, she begins to grind herself against him. Her moans joins the choir of the other lovers all around them: whores, adulterers, men and their wives and young sweethearts like themselves. Sinbad pulls his cock out and begins rubbing his shaft. His restrained groan is swallowed up by the symphony that engulfs him. Just as Aisha hits her high note, Sindbad feels his cock releasing the strain that has been building up inside it. It is a moment of perfect joined happiness.

"It quickly ends. Sindbad's thoughts darken. He feels himself waking somewhat from the dream.

"'Why did you leave me?' he says to Aisha, or maybe to the dream, echoing the words he had spoken to her before he fell asleep.

"Aisha runs her fingers along her collarbones and the exposed ribs beneath her ample breasts.

"'We're dying,' the dream says.

"'No, we are not,' Sindbad replies defiantly. 'We are still here. I am still here.'

"Aisha looks at him with sad eyes. Sindbad studies them, looking for sign of remorse, regret, guilt. She stands up and walks away. Soon she is out of view. Behind closed doors she is bathed, dressed and fed. Sindbad is left behind.

"Enyo comes to him. She drops a bag of coins from her bony fingers. A parting gift? A sign of respect? He knows she is leaving, too, but he does not care. She was just someone who needed his help for a while. It was Aisha that mattered. It was she that he had been with the longest, and it was she who he had loved. Without her, taking care of starving children seemed too much of a hassle. Good riddance.

"Back inside, he stumbles over to a corner and digs up one of his stashes of coin. When he puts it together with Enyo's it becomes a descent sum. Not enough to buy himself a night with Aisha at the brothel, but enough to gain entrance to a different house of pleasure. There is a special kind of sand that is traded by the caravans of the Dunes that can turn a man's mind into a desert. Moondust they call it, because that is where it is said to come from.

"At the Temple of the Silver Sphere there are no priests to hold sermons. The man at the door takes your money as an offering. Then you are guided into the bowels, to your own little alcove. The smoke from the burning incense writhes its way into the client's nostrils and envelops his brain in a fog that colours and obfuscates his thoughts. As Sindbad lays there on his bed of blankets, he feels the storm inside his head temper. All his fears, pains and disappointments vanish. Calm nothingness. A soft breeze across his skin. Weightlessness. Space and time become meaningless concepts. Dream mixes with reality.

"He is dying. Dying a slow, comfortable death. Servants come and bring him water, but not food. Soon his organs will shut down completely. Nobody knows what happens to the bodies of those that doesn't leave the Temple of the Silver Sphere. Few in the slums have time to care. Sindbad lies there, barely conscious of his predicament, happy that no one knows he's there. Until someone recognises him and takes him away.

"Sindbad wakes up. Not really. He is still dreaming, but the dream has changed. It feels like he has swallowed sand. His belly aches with hunger. When he tries to get up, the blankets stick to his back. He is suffering from withdrawal and soaked in sweat. 

"Hermes has carried Sindbad from the Temple and brought him to his home. Sindbad stays there for a week, throwing up, having feverish dreams and suffering from repeated panic attacks. The drugs have wreaked havoc on his undernourished body and his mind. He is delirious and weak. As soon as he is well enough to walk, he leaves without a word. A week later he returns with a few trinkets that he has stolen, asking Hermes to fence them off for him. A bond forms between them, but it is unspoken. No word of thank you is ever uttered.

"When their earning are high, they frequent taverns and brothels together. In the back of his mind, Sindbad hopes for a chance to return the favour by saving Hermes's life. It would be a weight off his shoulders, but the opportunity does not arise. They get in a few fights and scraps, but never anything serious. Sindbad enjoys the companionship of a friend, but a part of him wants to distance himself from others. Investing in friends and associates just leaves you with more to lose.

"Then the day comes. He breaks into the royal palace and gets away with it. Nobody sees him. He hadn't really expected to walk out of there with his life, but here he is. Holding the Dancing Sword of Khalid triumphantly up in front of his friend. The ultimate prize, stolen from the greatest living warrior in the world.




Castles Made of Sand Ch. 02



"He watches himself fighting the Dakini. It is like watching the avatars of gods. The Dakini, with her inhuman speed and skill, and himself, aided by the magic in the sword. Hermes rings the gong and the Dakini falls. Sindbad is triumphant. Soldiers swarm around them, but the Dakini easily cuts down four of them, allowing their escape.

"Sindbad sees himself running away. Then he sees Khalid's soldiers grab Hermes and put him in manacles. They drag the poor boy with them to the Palace. In the dungeon, they strip off his clothes and ties his arms to the ceiling. Sindbad tries to shut his eyes, but it's impossible. There are no lids to close the inner eye with. He is forced to watch the consequence of his actions.

"In the end, he manages to pull himself away from the frightening images. The dream doesn't stop. It simply takes him to a different place: a palace, somewhere else. He sees Salome. Somehow, he knows that what he's seeing happened several decades ago and that the flesh she is wearing is not the same she is wearing now. Nevertheless, her features appear to be fairly similar. She is still tall and her stance is still proud and strong. There is a little more fat on her bones, making hercurves more pronounced. Only her eyes are truly different. They are rounder and more expressive, and the iris is blue rather than hazel. There is a playfulness to her expression - to her very being. Her movements are still graceful, but they are looser and more relaxed.

"She carries seven veils on her body. Some are draped around her frame, the rest she holds in her hands. It seems as if she's naked underneath, but all the parts of her body that are exclusive to her sex are carefully hidden.

"Her arms begin to dance, and her hips undulates to a strange rhythm that wouldn't have made sense outside the dream. The contortions she imposes on her limbs seem impossible. She throws the veils around herself, catches them in the air, pulls them off her body and wraps them round herself again. Sindbad scans her, looking for a glimpse of her womanhood or her nipples. None is given. The dance goes faster and faster. It's exhilarating, but exhausting. He needs to look away - to allow his mind a break.

"It is time for me to let him rest. I haven't touched him like this before. He will need time to adapt.

"Awake!"

Rough Awakenings

The morning after his fight with the Dakini, Sindbad woke up, his body drenched in a cold sweat. The blanket was sticky and wet beneath his thigh. Aisha was gone. The Dakini was still there though, standing silently by the wall. She still had a blindfold wrapped around her eyes and the lower part of her face was hidden by her veil.

"Morning," Sindbad said.

The Dakini did not respond.

Sindbad rolled out of bed. He retrieved the pisspot from under the drawer. After a few seconds of calm meditation, he managed to calm his morning erection to a point where he was able to relieve himself without making a mess.

"Would you be offended if I were to give you a name?" Sindbad asked, over the sound of his waterfall raining into the copper pot.

Again, the Dakini did not answer.

"It's just that it would be practical to have something to call you by," Sindbad continued. "I've always thought Salome was a lovely name."

He was shaking the last drops of urine from the tip of his cock, when he suddenly noticed that the floor was smeared in another form of bodily fluid.

"Is that blood on the floor?" Sindbad asked.

"Yes," the Dakini confirmed.

"That wasn't there last night or the day before."

"It's from an intruder that I killed while you slept."

"An intruder? Why didn't you wake me?"

"There was no time. I heard him coming down the hallway. When he entered the room holding a knife, there was little to do, but act."

"Where is he?"

"I threw him outside."

Sindbad's eyes trailed the bloodstains on the floor. They formed a path to the window that lead to the alley behind the brothel. Sindbad could hear agitated voices from outside.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Sindbad felt the blood in his cheeks vanish and his heart rate increase.

"Will there be more?" the Dakini asked indifferently.

"Damn right there will be more," Sindbad shouted. He lowered his voice. "Right now, I am worried about the people outside our window."

He slowly walked over to the window, got down on his knees and peeked outside. Three men were standing over a body, talking amongst themselves in a hushed, frantic manner. They had turned the would-be assassin on his back. Sindbad recognized the face. His worries were confirmed. Silently, he retreated out of sight.

"The Brotherhood," he said, more to himself than to the Dakini. "The Brotherhood has decided to get rid of me."

Sindbad looked at the Dakini. He imagined her hiding a smirk behind her veil. She must have been taking some satisfaction in his despair.

"This is trouble for us," he whispered to the Dakini. "The Brotherhood rules the slum areas, the parts of the city with the fewest guards. If both Khalid and the Brotherhood are searching for me, then we are caught between a rock and a hard place."

"Then what will you do?" the Dakini asked, making it clear with the tone of her voice that she didn't really care to know.

"Firstly, we need to get out of here fast. Jahalia is an enormous city. If we move around while keeping a low profile, they will have a hard time finding us."

Reunion

Ten days later...

A sedan chair was being carried through the dusty streets on the shoulders of four bearers. The curtains were drawn and Sindbad caught the glimpse of a woman in whiteface and rouged cheekbones. She was stroking a baby panther that lay on her lap. Obviously the wife of some foreign emissary. On either side of the carriage marched a file of soldiers. Their shiny armour reflected the late afternoon sun.

Behind the carriage came a long trail of slaves, herded by even more soldiers. The slaves were scantily clad and some were stark naked.

"You don't look too clearly at the world, do you?" Sindbad asked his companion rhetorically.

Salome pulled back her hood. "The world is evil," she muttered.

"At that, we agree," Sindbad laughed.

Salome stared solemnly at the host of unfortunates. "The world is evil because it is inhabited by men like you."

"There are no men like me," Sindbad said with a grin, "only me." Then his smile faded. "Seriously, though. I could never see myself owning slaves."

Salome looked accusingly at him.

"What?" he asked defensively. "I don't drag you around in chains, do I? If you wanted to leave me, I couldn't stop you if I tried."

"I'm bound by my code," she muttered. "The code which you perverted by resorting to trickery."

"I didn't write your stupid code. If people make silly laws, then I feel completely justified in exploiting them."

"What do you think I would do to you if I decided to go against my vows and my code?"

Sindbad pondered the question for a moment. "I'd rather not think about that," he decided.

The slaves eventually moved past and Sindbad and Salome were finally able to continue. Sindbad walked briskly forward, Salome pulled down her hood and followed behind.

"You don't think you'd own slaves if you had had the money?" Salome asked.

Sindbad didn't answer.

"I don't believe you," Salome said. "I believe you don't believe in slavery, because you feel you are more likely to end up a slave than a slave owner. I guess you don't fancy yourself a murderer, either. Would that still be true if you had had the strength and skill required to kill someone?"

"Oh, get off your high horse, sister," Sindbad spat. "How many have people have you killed with that sword of yours?"

"I have no idea," was the cold response.

"I'm not surprised. Now tell me: How much does it take for you to condemn someone to death?"

"All the people of Akasha should know to obey the Ten Commandments and to refrain from the Seven Deadly Sins."

"You are being evasive on purpose. What is the lowest offence you have killed someone for?"

"Sins are not weighed on a scale. A crime is a crime."

Sindbad stopped and turned towards the Dakini. "Have you killed someone for theft?"

"Yes."

"Have you killed someone for stealing food?"

"Yes."

"How old was the youngest person you've ever killed for stealing food?"

Salome did not answer. She did not have to. Sindbad had his confession.

"You're a fucking monster," he shouted. "There are both heroes and villains in this world, and they all have one thing in common: They don't give a shit about the starving children living on the streets. Well, I do. I and no one else."

"Do you? How have you help them?"

"At least I know they exists. That's a start. I'm practically still a street urchin myself with enough trouble feeding my own damn mouth."

Sindbad sat down on top of a barrel. It had been ages since he had yelled at someone. He needed to vent.

"You'll forget about those children as soon as you get some gold between your fingers," Salome said accusingly. "The last time you had money you spent them on a harlot. How is a whore different than a slave?"

"It's not like I had some small fortune. I couldn't have saved anyone with that."

Salome stepped closer to him. "Yes, you could. You could have helped children who suffer like you did. But you didn't."

Sindbad grabbed a rock and threw it at Salome, but she effortlessly caught it in her hand. It was amazing how she was able to do that with her hood drawn down over her eyes.

"You're a callous, emotionless bitch," Sindbad snared. "You care nothing for the world and the people in it."

"And your emotions only lead you further down the path of depravity," Salome countered. "You might feel compassion, but you don't act on it. You act on anger, lust and other baseness. That is how your emotions trick you."

"Why don't you go and die? Leave us mortals to our suffering."

"The only way for me to achieve the true death is by following my oath. That means serving you. If I don't, I will simply be reborn on earth again."

Sindbad buried his head in his hands. "Fighting that duel with you was a bad idea."

A sharp noise made Sindbad look up at the sky. It was the rhythmic caw of raven. He looked up. The bird was circling above their heads, before it perched onto the bust of Khalid. It seemed to be looking back at him. Ravens were considered a bad omen. Sindad looked away.

"Birds and priestesses," he muttered. "Birds and fucking priestesses."

****

As they walked through the dusty streets, the heat of the midday sun started to become overwhelming, at least for Sindbad.

"I've been hearing footsteps," Salome said. "Someone is following us. One person. Light steps."

"Where?" Sindbad whispered.

Salome turned up towards the rooftops. A young girl, short, but gangly, sat perched upon a wall. She was quite far away from them, but Sindbad quickly realised who it must be.

"After her," Sindbad yelled and began sprinting down the street.

The girl dropped down from the wall into an alley outside of view. Sindbad was about to stop to think about which direction she could be going, when Salome ran past him. He followed the Dakini around a corner, where he saw the girl again. The girl was quick, but she couldn't match the long strides of her Dakini pursuer. It wasn't long before Salome had caught up with her. The Dakini cut the girl off from her escape path, allowing Sindbad to catch up.

"Hello, Enyo," Sindbad said, through his gasps for air. "Long time, no speak. Why did you run?"

"Because of the look you gave me when you recognised me," she answered.

Her breath was steady and controlled, but the tone of her voice betrayed her nervousness.

"Should I be happy to see you?" Sindbad asked. "After your Brotherhood sent an assassin after me?"

"I had nothing to do with that. Furthermore, Brotherhood has decided to let you live for the moment," Enyo said defensively. "I've come with an offer for you."

"An offer? From the Brotherhood?"

"No. From Circe."

Sindbad looked at her in utter disbelief. Then, he began to laugh.

"From Circe the sorceress? Are you out of your mind? Whatever it is, the answer is no! Not in a million fucking years."

"Circe doesn't take refusal well."

Sindbad's eyes narrowed. "In that case, I better make sure she doesn't learn that you've tracked me down. I don't need that she-witch on my tail," he said and turned to Salome. "Kill her," he commanded and handed her her scabbard.

Salome drew her sword and walked towards Enyo. Enyo's first instinct was to run, but she figured that any quick movement would only hasten her death. No ordinary person can dodge the blow of a Dakini. Instead, she loosened her pouch from her belt and emptied it's content onto the ground, just as the Dakini raised her sword to strike.

"Stop," Sindbad yelled.

The Dakini hesitated. Sindbad squatted down and picked up the coins. He put one of the coins in between his teeth and bit down on it. The metal was pliable. It was real gold. His teeth marks proved its authenticity.

"She gave you all this?" Sindbad said in disbelief.

He had never had this many coins in front of him. It was almost enough to make him froth at the mouth.

"Yes, Sindbad," Enyo confirmed. "I told her I needed some gold to get your attention. This is what she gave me."

"Then you can go back to your mistress and tell her I thank her for her generous gift," Sindbad said. "In the meantime, I will go and buy passage on a caravan."

"Sindbad, please," Enyo said. "You have no idea what she will do to you - what she will do to me. You can't escape her."

As she spoke, Sindbad heard the croak of a raven and the flapping of wings. A bird, similar to the one he had seen before, dived down and landed on Enyo's shoulder.

"A pet?" Sindbad asked.

Enyo stroked the bird's feathers. "Yes, he helped me track you down. I've named him Ike."

"Another gift from Circe?"

Enyo nodded. "She is very powerful, Sindbad. Allying with her would be a wise move. Even the Caliph and the Prince of Thieves fear her." There was both sincerity and genuine fear in her voice.

"You shouldn't be so quick to trust those with power, Enyo," Sindbad muttered, but he was coming around. The promise of more gold enticed him.

"This will be different than joining the Brotherhood. Circe doesn't run a guild. You won't be serving as part of a hierarchy. You'll be working directly for Circe."

"I'd still be serving, wouldn't I?" Sindbad muttered. "And I'll have to worry about being turned into some horrible animal." He looked suspiciously at the raven as he said this.

"The two years I stayed with you and Aisha, we were hardly able to keep ourselves alive. Aren't you tired of living on the streets?"

Sindbad took some time to think. For the last year, he had been taking greater and greater risks. He had been able to reap some decent rewards from time to time, but he knew in his heart that he couldn't keep up his lucky streak forever. A change of tactics was needed. This didn't mean that allying with a sorceress was a good idea. His thoughts were interrupted when Salome stuck her sword into a chicken. He gave her a look of disbelief and annoyance.

"What was that good for?" he asked her.

Salome cleaned the chicken's blood off her sword.

"It's ritualistic," she answered. "Even if you don't want to kill this girl, I need to bloody my weapon before I can sheathe it again."

"You're a fucking freak, you are," Sindbad spat at her.

Salome ignored him. "Let me kill this witch," she asked.

"I don't think you can," Sindbad explained. "She is believed to be immortal. If you kill her flesh, she'll find herself a new body to possess."

"Combating evil and perversity is always the right thing to do. Even when it's difficult," Salome said.

"I'm not keen to add an immortal sorceress to my list of enemies," Sindbad declared. He turned back to Enyo. "I guess we can go and hear what she has to say."

Enyo nodded, before turning on her heel and beckoned the others to follow. The raven on her shoulder took flight and watched over them from above, warning them of any patrolling guards.

Sindbad found his eyes often drawing towards his old companion. She had changed a lot over the last four years. Actually, she had even changed considerable since the last time he had seen her. From afar, she had looked almost as tiny as before, but up close, it was obvious that she had been able to put some meat and muscle on her bones. Her features had also matured and she could no longer as easily be mistaken for a boy.

As they began the final ascend up the hill on which the mansion lay, Enyo turned to look at Sindbad and found that his gaze was resting on her ass.

"You look ... healthier," Sindbad said. "I assume this means we will be well fed once we get to the witch."

Enyo rolled her eyes. "I guess, but don't accept everything that she offers. Especially if it is something she has cooked herself."

Through streets of sand and past buildings of clay they walked - the two thieves and the Dakini. Eshu watched over them from the shadows. Little did the trio know what delicious plans he had in store for them.