Chapter 10: Help!

"I don't know what to do. She doesn't seem happy here, yet she is as obedient and submissive as can be, and she seems to enjoy being spanked and beaten. I had hoped for a little more fire."

The Emir was discussing Lujain, his new French concubine, with Ramzy El-Najjar who had no idea why the Emir thought there was a problem. If the concubine was submissive and obedient, and took the whip well, what else could a man want?

Suddenly the Emir stood up and said, "Excuse me Ramzy; I just had an idea."

Ramzy El-Najjar did not even have time to make obeisance before the Emir was striding out of the room calling for Maktum to go with him. A Rolls-Royce was waiting ready at the front door when he reached it and, as ever, he didn't notice how alert his staff had to have been to anticipate his every wish in that way.

"To the Army Brothel, the Other Ranks' part," was the surprising order to the driver, who could think of no reason why the Emir should want to waste his time with anything as rough as that place.

When they arrived the Emir went in with Maktum and called for the owner, who arrived convinced that his continued sale of alcohol to the soldiers had finally enraged the Emir, and that a personal visit could only be the worst kind of news.

"Where is Pamina?" demanded the Emir.

"Pamina, Master?" asked the nonplussed brothel keeper.

"The prostitute who came to the Golden Palace when I visited here three or four years ago?" the Emir reminded him.

"Oh, she retired, Master."

"My master asked where is she?" Maktum asked, lifting the man clear of the ground with one hand gripping his kameez.

"M-master, she ... she is at my home."

Maktum dropped the man to the floor and then dragged him by the shoulder out to the Rolls.

"Fetch her, " he commanded, pushing the bewildered Kobekistani into the front passenger seat.

Returning to the Emir, Maktum stood respectfully beside the door.

"Thank you, Maktum," said the Emir, dryly, "You anticipated my wishes perfectly."

The Chief Bodyguard did not realise this was a comment on his presumption, but took it as a compliment. The Emir sighed.

"How do we pass the time until his arrival?"

Maktum went through an inner door and returned with three women in varying states of undress.

"They are horrible," said the Emir, "And who knows what diseases they may have?"

One of the women glared at him and asked, "Who do you think you are to criticise me?"

One of the others shushed her, whispered, "It is the Emir," and sank into a full obeisance.

The other two followed suit.

"Why do you think that I am the Emir, here, in this ... place?" asked the Emir.

"Master, Maktum is..." her voice tailed off.

"Maktum is well known throughout the city, you mean? And clearly I am his Master?"

Both Maktum and the woman were grateful that the Emir gave them such a graceful exit from a conversation which was growing more embarrassing by the moment, about how a prostitute in a low-life brothel knew the Head Bodyguard. Just then the Rolls drew up again outside, and the Emir went out as the brothel keeper disembarked with a woman in an abaya.