Adora

now. I was neutered by my own parents and pledged to those ancient gods. I served in our temple as apprentice to the high priest. Together we served Ishtar of Erech, the Goddess of Love and Fertility. The temple’s priestesses were trained to service the lusty male worshippers of the deity, for each maiden was Ishtar incarnated, and to couple with a priestess of Ishtar of Erech was to lie with the goddess herself. Fathers brought their sons to experience their first carnal act in the arms of Ishtar. Men with problems of impotence paid great sums to be cured by these skilled women. Bridegrooms spent the night before their wedding with priestesses in order to insure their own fertility and that of their brides.

“If precautions had not been taken, few women would have remained priestesses long. Those girls consecrated to Ishtar of Erech enter the temple school at age six for at least six years of training. Once they reach puberty they must serve the goddess for five years. Therefore, before they sacrifice their virginity to Ishtar, they are placed in a light trance by the surgeon high priest, and a pessary device is inserted within their wombs. That device is removed and replaced regularly, always when the girl is in the trance state.

“None of the girls is permitted to perform their duties without the protection of this implant, not until they have served their five years. At the end of that time the pessary is removed for the Spring Festival of Ishtar, and enough of the maidens become pregnant at that time to satisfy the worshippers of Ishtar as to her influence on fertility.

“I served ten years in the temple, beginning when I was seven. I learned the arts of putting another person into a trance, and of making and implanting these pessary devices.

“When I was seventeen a troop of Muslims rode into my remote village and destroyed our temple. The priest and high priestess were killed. The rest of us were carried off into slavery. I have used the skills taught me many times. I will use them for you, if you will agree to bear the sultan his sons.”‘

Theadora looked the eunuch over gravely. “You are indeed a powerful friend, Ali Yahya. But satisfy my curiosity in one thing. Why me? Why not some nubile, pretty, witless little thing?”

“It is your very intelligence that makes me choose you, Highness. You understand and quickly grasp situations. You will be loyal to the sultan-and to me. You are above the petty squabblings of the harem maidens and will be a stabilizing influence upon your lord. You will rear your children wisely to serve this empire well.

“A younger, stupid girl would inevitably turn out to be greedy for riches, greedy for power. She would try to play politics. We will have a certain amount of that as it is, Highness, but as long as you remain supreme in the sultan’s heart, the small influence of these girls will be like insect bites-occasionally irritating, but totally unimportant.”

She nodded. “Now,” she said worriedly, “I must consider best how to get back into Murad’s good graces.”

The eunuch’s eyes twinkled. “Why, you will weep, my princess, and you will fling yourself into his arms, sobbing your apology,” he said.

“Ali Yahya!” She was laughing. “He will never believe such softness from me. Rather, it will arouse his suspicions.”

“He will believe if you are clever, Highness. He is angry and beginning to lose patience with this battle between you. I will gently stoke the fires of his anger, telling him he did right this afternoon in asserting his mastery over you. Encouraging him to continue the lesson this evening.”

“And thus encouraged,” Adora took up the thread of the eunuch’s thought, “he will come roaring into my tent like an outraged bull. I will exhibit a momentary, small, defiant attitude before going to pieces.”

“Excellent, Highness! As I have said, you are quick to grasp the point.”

Again she laughed. “Go, then, old schemer, and rouse my lord and master to proper fury. But remember, to give me time to dress and anoint myself properly.”

“I will send two serving women immediately,” he said. Then he left her. The eunuch walked across the compound to find the sultan bathing in his tent.

“Ah, Ali Yahya,” said Murad, “there you are. Make arrangements for us to leave for Bursa by noon tomorrow. I will ride back this night.”

“I am sorry you choose to run, my lord, when victory is so near at hand. With your actions of this afternoon, I had thought you finally understood the situation and were prepared to handle Princess Theadora with firmness.”

“Understood what, Ali Yahya?” He turned to the slave. “Be careful with that hot water, fool! Do you wish to scald me?”

“I thought,” said the eunuch, “you realized that, to win the princess back, you must force her to admit your superiority. You have almost succeeded in taming her. I have just come from her, tent, where I left her in tears. She loves you! She hates you!” He chuckled broadly. “One more such lesson as this afternoon, and you will break her to your will, my lord.”

“Do you really think so, Ali Yahya? I will admit that I love her, but I can take no more of her constant defiance and wicked temper. I would have you stock me a harem of quiet, gentle girls. One spitfire in my house is more than enough!”

“That is true, my lord, but a meal without a little pepper is a bland one. Go to her again tonight. I know she will be contrite. If you do not weaken, she will admit her faults. If she does, then you must remain here several more days to reinforce your position with her. What a sweet victory, eh, my lord?” finished the eunuch, pleased with the look of longing he detected in the sultan’s dark eyes.

Murad rose up from his tub and slaves dried his big, well-muscled body. Finally Murad spoke.

“Very well,” he said. “You may delay giving the orders to return to Bursa. We will see just how obedient my lovely Adora is willing to become.” He stood, holding his arms out, allowing his slaves to clothe him in a black silk robe. It was embroidered with branches of golden mimosa and closed with delicately sewn-gold frogs. Soft black kid slippers lined in the tender fleece of unborn lamb were slipped on his feet. Then, without another word, Murad left the tent and strode across the camp toward Theadora’s tent.

Ali Yahya cast his eyes skyward and muttered under his breath, “Whoever… Let my plans succeed!”

“He comes, mistress!” whispered the slavewoman excitedly, peering from between the tent flaps.

“Get you gone! All of you! Quickly! Quickly!” commanded Adora. The women fled as Murad entered.

Allah, but she was lovely. Quickly he caught himself before he showed any sign of weakness. She wore a loose robe of pale lilac silk, similar to his but much simpler. It closed with a row of little gold knots beginning at the valley of her breasts. He noted with satisfaction that her eyes were slightly red-rimmed.

He said nothing, and she stood defiantly looking at him for a moment. Then her lower lip trembled. She caught at it with her little white teeth, hastily wiping away two large tears that slid quickly down her pale cheeks.

“My lord,” her voice was a whisper. “Oh, my lord, I do not know how- I-I ask your-” Without warning she flung herself at him, and he found his arms automatically tightening about her. She wept softly against him, wetting his robe through to his chest.

He was delighted but dared not show it. He had expected fury at his treatment of her this afternoon, yet here she was, all soft and feminine, seeking to apologize to him. “Look at me, Adora.” Without hesitation she raised her face to him. Her lovely amethyst eyes were bright with tears, the black lashes matted. Unable to restrain himself, he bent to kiss the soft, inviting red mouth. To his surprise, her arms twined about his neck and her lips opened willingly-Allah!-eagerly, beneath his. She was kissing him back, and then she was murmuring, “Oh, Murad! I have been such a fool! Please, please forgive me!”

He was at a loss for words.

“It was my pride, my lord,” she said, drawing him down onto a pile of soft cushions, “surely you understand that, for yours is as great as mine, and I have a wicked temper. And both our fathers spoiled me terribly.” Kneeling, she drew off his slippers. Then she cuddled next to him.

“Your behavior has been almost unforgivable,” he said gruffly.

She raised herself up on one elbow and leaned forward just enough that he was treated to a generous view of her breasts. “But you will forgive this humble slave,” she begged prettily. When he looked sharply at her he saw her mouth trembling with suppressed mirth.

Relieved that her spirit wasn’t completely broken, he laughed and pulled her into his arms. “I do not believe you are really repentant at all,” he teased.

Her eyes grew serious. “But I do apologize, my lord. I do! I would not blame you if you sent me away.” She held her breath.

“Do you want to go?” he asked.

There was only the briefest pause. “No. Do not send me from you, Murad. Those years I lived as your father’s