Chapter 7

We spent the rest of the morning pleasuring each other in the many ways possible for three woman and a man. Thanks to Klaatu, my sexual stamina was increased to meet that pleasant challenge. Finally, exhausted after hours of sex, we fell asleep.

When I awoke I saw Ayesha, again covered by her cloak, scarf and veil, bringing a tray of food and drink into the tent from outside. As I stirred, Amara, lying with her head on my thigh, extended her tongue, licking the tip of my cock. Miko, lying on my other side, raised herself above me, looked into my eyes, and without a word lowered herself onto me, rolling her breasts against my chest, softly kissing... licking.

"Not now," I said sitting up. "Let's eat. I need to build up my strength."

They quickly agreed, apparently anxious for me to be strong enough for more lovemaking. I could tell that Amara, having learned how pleasurable sex with a man could be, and the two slave girls reintroduced to heterosexuality, were going to be very demanding. Without the strength Klaatu's powers gave me, I would never be able to satisfy these three sexy young girls. Of course, without Klaatu, I would never have had the opportunity.

After lunch we bathed at the beach where I first observed the three girls - only yesterday. As we sat on the sand, drying in the sun, I suddenly realized that because Amara had accepted me as her lord, she might be able to convince the Deryabar guards - now our prisoners - to come over to my side.

Amara agreed - I had the impression she would agree to anything I suggested. After our bath Amara addressed the Deryabar Royal Guards, telling them that she accepted me as her betrothed, that I was the rightful Sultan of Basrah, and once I was restored to my throne she would become my queen. With a loud cheer, all the Deryabar guards agreed to join us in liberating Basrah. I mentally contacted Klaatu, and ordered him to alter our plan to make use of their changed loyalty.

The slow pace of the caravan meant it would take days of travel before we would reach Basrah. This gave me time to get to know better the princess who was to become my wife - my first wife.

Amara was sexy, spoiled and selfish. Her royal birth and beauty had led her to expect instant obedience and gratification of her desires. And she was still like that - with everyone but me. From the time I first took her - forced her - she surrendered herself totally to me. She willingly gave to me the obedience, the devotion she expected for herself from others. In public, she was the regal princess, but with me she gladly acted the role of pleasure slave. And Ayesha and Miko were just as devoted to me as their former mistress.

On the fifth day, as we were making camp, scouts from Basrah rode into our encampment. They informed us we would reach the city the next day. A guard of honor would meet the caravan to escort Malik's bride into the city.

That night, even with the greater stamina Klaatu had given me, I was almost unable to match the sexual passion of the three women - no girls, for they were still in their teens. They knew that after that night, one way or the other, things would never be the same for us. They feared I could be killed or injured in the coming battle, or (as I knew would inevitably happen) if restored to my throne they would find themselves merely additional members of a harem of many women.

The next day, the day we were to reach Basrah - in this world, my home, my capital - I was wearing the ragged, foul-smelling clothing of a camel driver over my princely garb. My men posing as guards or humble caravan workers, like me. As we came in sight of the walls of Basrah, a troop of royal lancers met our caravan, escorting us into the city through the gated portal in the thick walls surrounding the city.

As our caravan moved down the broad avenue leading to the royal palace, I marveled at the beauty of Basrah, my city. This wasn't a real city, it wasn't even the kind of eastern city portrayed in movies. It was a dream city, with wide, clean streets, the buildings large (it looked like the tallest were three or four stories), well-kept, whitewashed, with flat roofs sporting multi-colored awnings. Occasionally, as we made our way to the palace, we passed through open squares, where markets were being held. Here, vendors were selling all variety of goods, the diversity of items for sale matched by the variety of peoples.

There was one discordant note in all this wonder - the people of Basrah. The citizens of Basrah, who I seemed to remember as prosperous, lively and happy, today seemed impoverished and downtrodden, subdued except when cheering crowds tried to get close to Princess Amara - her howdah open, but she still hidden by scarf and robe and veil - as Malik's guards ruthlessly whipped them away.

We reached the large Palace Square outside the main gate of the royal palace. There, sitting on a white horse, dressed in glittering finery, was Malik surrounded by his bodyguards. I had to admit to myself that he was a handsome man - tall, athletic, his eyes black, a dark goatee covering his chin.

Still as a statue on his stallion, only his eyes moving, flashing over the scene, taking in the crowd, the caravan, his guards, Malik waited as servants ran out, rolling a long red carpet through the palace gate into the square. Gracefully, he dismounted, standing in the center of the broad carpet, exactly halfway between the palace gate and the foot of the carpet, awaiting his bride.

All our caravan now in the square, we paused as the camels carrying Amara and her two companions approached the foot of the long red carpet. I held the camel's head as Amara dismounted, her blue eyes above the gauze veil softening for a moment as they looked into mine, then once more taking on the haughty cast of an aristocrat as her feet touched the ground.

Somehow - I guess because she was mine now - I was filled with pride as I watched Amara, her back erect, flanked by Miko and Ayesha, bravely walking toward Malik to offer her obeisance. I knew how much she had dreaded this moment. Strangely, with each step as she walked up the scarlet carpet a murmur came from the crowd, at first indistinct, then becoming clearer. "Amara" they murmured, at first softly, then louder and louder "Amara... AMARA," until it became a shout, a roar from the crowd: "Princess AMARA," then the cry, "DOWN WITH MALIK!"

As the crowd surged forward, Malik's guards moved toward the ragged mob, beating them back with whips, clubs, the butts of lances. Suddenly, stones, bottles, a myriad of missiles began raining down on Malik and his guards from the edge of the crowd.

Hassan, dressed as a captain of the Deryabar guard, ran toward the three girls who were standing unmoving on the carpet before Malik, clutching one another, clearly confused by what was happening. "Get them into the palace," Malik ordered. Hassan looking to me for guidance, I nodded, then, grabbing the halter of Amara's camel rushed up the carpet toward the palace gate, following Amara and her companions inside.

By now, arrows, along with the cruder missiles, were falling around Malik and his men as they moved toward the gate, fighting a rearguard action against the largest, strongest men of Basrah who were at the front of the angry mob. I was forced to admit to myself that despite the evil I knew Malik to be, he was a courageous warrior and a dynamic leader.

I entered the palace compound with about half our caravan, just before Malik's guards swung the gates shut. The crowd was clamoring at the gate, shouting their rage, then screaming as Malik's men began raining boiling oil and missiles onto them from the walls, until the crowd was forced to withdraw from the walls, crying out in frustration.

This wasn't our plan; this wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Mentally calling to Klaatu, "What's going on?" I asked.

"The people of Basrah were so excited they couldn't be controlled, attacking before they should have. We'll just have to play it through like this."

I suspected this was another of Klaatu's changes to make the game more interesting, but decided to follow his advice and play it through. "All right," I continued. "Are your men in position?"

"We'll be at the city gates within minutes."

I watched as Hassan and Murad hurriedly pulled some packs off a mule, then using flint and steel, set off the rockets to warn Klaatu-Omar's army of mercenaries we needed them to enter the city. Our plan - our original plan - was for my men to hold the palace gates open, allowing our partisans in Basrah to enter the palace compound, while other partisans were to hold the gates open for Klaatu-Omar's forces. But that seemed impossible now. All that I could hope was that the city gates would be held for our troops.

Jumping onto the low wall surrounding a fountain, I ripped off the filthy burnoose, opening the ornate jacket I wore beneath, baring the Hawk of Basrah on my chest, "Soldiers of Basrah," I called to Malik's men. "It is I, Arthur, your true Sultan. Join me. Free Basrah. You will be rewarded."

Cheering, about half of Malik's men in the courtyard joined us. Rallying them and the forces we brought with the caravan, waving my scimitar, I led my men against the remaining enemy in the compound. As we struggled against the enemy, I thrusting, parrying with my men, Murad and Hassan, with a small force of men, opened the palace gates, letting in our forces from the caravan trapped outside along with our partisans from the city population.

Malik, seeing defeat impending, ran along the parapet toward the river gate, looking for a way to escape. Hassan led a troop up the stairway to the rampart, battling Malik's forces barring their way. I followed, bounding up two... three steps at a time, forcing my way through, shouldering one of Malik's men off the parapet, he falling with a thud to the paving stones below.

I chased after Malik, running with all my strength until he paused where the wall overlooked the river. I guessed he was looking for a way to get down to one of the boats on the water below. Even with my enhanced body, I was breathing hard after the battle and sprint across the battlements.

Malik must have heard me because as I approached he turned. It was then I saw he had a weapon in each hand, a scimitar in his right hand and a short sword in his left. With the weapon in his left hand as a guard, he thrust at me with the scimitar. I parried his thrust, jumping back to avoid a slash from his left.