LITMIR.BIZ

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1980

      The Brownstone, Boston, Massachusetts

      Even before she was fully conscious Sarah vomited, staining the fine muslin shift she was wearing, and her hair. She gasped for air, blindly clutching at a woollen blanket as reality began to close in, suffocating her with its knowledge, deadening her responses; leaving her mentally vulnerable in a world she would refuse to accept, let alone understand. She knew almost instinctively what had happened and she wanted to cry but no tears would come, only anger and the more she thought about it the angrier she became until finally she leapt from the bed to confront her immediate surroundings in the first instance, and then the situation.

      The cubical she found herself in, for it was too small to be called a room, contained nothing more than a bed and a metal side-table. Fastened to the wall was a mirror that reflected back nothing, as yet, but the stark white wall opposite. Through the half-opened door came the sound of a flute interspersed with high-pitched laughter and the voices of women.

      Slowly, hesitantly she opened the door only to be confronted by a swimming pool ringed with potted plants enjoying the humidity and the winter sunlight that filtered through a magnificent glass dome high above. By the side of the pool sat a young black girl, her long hair braided with brightly coloured ribbons that hung down the middle of her back, providing her with the only costume she wore. She smiled up at Sarah, revealing perfectly formed, even white teeth.

      ‘Good, you are awake.’ Sarah turned abruptly. A young girl, not much older than herself moved cautiously forward, the silk brocade caftan she wore barely stirring as she walked. ‘Welcome. My name is Helena and this is Pearl.’ She turned slightly to indicate the black girl. ‘You have soiled your gown, and your hair.’ She reached out but Sarah had already begun to back away. ‘Relax, mon cher,’ she purred, revealing more of a French accent, ‘you are safe and amongst friends.’ She smiled as she tilted her head to one side. ‘You are most beautiful. Come, I will help you to refresh yourself then perhaps a swim and something to eat.’ She moved closer.

      ‘Get away from me,’ Sarah growled.

      Helena stopped abruptly before allowing her eyes to drift to the far end of the pool. ‘See,’ she nodded towards two heavyset men, dressed in long black robes. ‘If you do not behave they will come; then you will do what is asked of you.’

      ‘Eunuchs I presume,’ Sarah huffed. ‘This is too much. Look Helena, I have absolutely no intention of playing your little game or anyone else’s. Now, I suggest you go and tell whoever it is who runs this goddamn zoo that I’m not interested in joining the swim team or whatever euphemistic term is currently in vogue for harem. Got that?’

      Helena stared at her in disbelief, her dark brown eyes unwavering. ‘You are brave, yes; but, how brave?’ She turned towards the two men, raised her right hand and snapping her fingers. They immediately began to move forward, rounding the pool side by side.

      Sarah watched their progress, waiting. They were approximately ten feet from her when she moved, grabbing Helena around the neck from behind while twisting the girl’s left arm painfully upwards behind her back. When Helena struggled, Sarah applied more pressure. A single scream echoed through the room, galvanising the two eunuchs into action. Positioning herself perfectly for the onslaught, Sarah gathered all her strength then pushed Helena forward hard, sending both her and the eunuchs into the pool.

      Sarah bolted for the room next door, hoping to find an exit but her heart sank as she raced into a veritable labyrinth. Surrounded by a dozen startled women in varying degrees of undress, she was forced to twist and turn between more potted plants, sofas and mounds of brightly coloured pillows. She tipped over a large bowl of walnuts sending them cascading across the Persian carpets before encountering a tray overflowing with fresh fruit. Pausing only long enough to scoop up a small pearl-handled paring knife, she sent the fruit flying, pelting those close by with oranges, pears and bunches of grapes.

      She dashed for the door at the far side. It was locked. Slowly she turned, pressing herself hard up against it, the knife clutched tightly in her right hand. The women stared at her, horrified.

      ‘I want out of here and I want out of here now!’ she demanded, breathing hard.

      Slowly the women parted and Sarah came face to face with the spectre of Maharsh. She swallowed hard as his eyes washed over her while all the while smiling in a manner which could best be described as appreciative. She knew without a shadow of doubt that this monster was most definitely not a eunuch.

      ‘I see,’ she gasped, ‘so, we’ve moved from a Thousand and One Nights to King Kong, have we?’

      ‘Such a pretty knife in such a pretty hand; what do you do with it?’

      ‘Right now, making a point is about all I can hope for.’

      ‘If you think to terrify, this is what you need.’ He offered for her inspection a stainless steel blade at least eight inches long.

      ‘Very nice,’ she managed, ‘Jim Bowie would be proud of you.’

      ‘You have caused much distress but no more, I think.’ He moved fast, grabbing her by the wrist, twisting it just enough so that she dropped the knife. With a grunt of satisfaction, he brought his blade to within a hair’s breadth of her neck. ‘You will do now what is asked of you yes, or I will cut you. From this will come much pain and much blood.’

      Sarah nodded, swallowing hard.

      ‘Good,’ he growled as he stepped back from her. ‘Return now, back the way you have come.’

      Helena stood rigid with rage; the centre point of a vast pool of water that radiated outwards across the tiled floor. Fists clenched, her costume, makeup and elaborate hairstyle now in ruins, she watched tight-lipped as Sarah casually strolled back into the room with Maharsh right behind her.

      ‘English bitch!’ Helena screamed.

      .

      ‘I’d rather be an English bitch than a French whore.’

      Helena lunged for Sarah’s throat but Maharsh stepped in between them. With a growl he tossed Helena to one side, sending her sprawling across the wet floor. Sarah’s smile of triumph lasted but a moment as the two eunuchs quickly moved in.

      Capritzo had watched the whole performance from the concealed balcony above. He leaned away from the latticework screen then turned to address his head eunuch. ‘Take her and lock her away from all and especially Maharsh. Have him come to me, in my office … now.’

      ‘Yes lord.’

      As the eunuch was about to leave, Capritzo added, ‘I want her guarded both day and night.’

      ‘Yes lord.’

      Capritzo frowned. ‘What game is it you play, Richard?’ He turned back towards the screen.

      Sarah caught only the essence of movement from above but it was sufficient for her to concentrate her attention, seeking to find what was behind the latticework. When the eunuchs sought to take control of her, she wrenched herself free. Helena watched in horror as Sarah moved closer, not taking her eyes off one section of the balcony where she felt sure someone stood, watching. Her eyes, cat like roamed the intricate diamond-shaped pattern until she found what she was seeking. ‘You bastard,’ she whispered, ‘I’ll get you for this.’

      Only time would prove how prophetic these words would be.

      *****

      When the plane landed, Laird smiled across at her. ‘Almost there.’

      ‘Is that suppose to make me feel better?’ she growled.

      Laird flushed. ‘At the back of the plane you will find Mr. Develin’s personal cabin. You’re free to make use of the facilities there.

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