Chapter eleven

Inside his tent, Abbas ordered to free them from their ties and gags and offered them some water the two greedily drank. Then, he stepped closer and asked:

»You bed or chair?«

Both Linda and Emily frowned, not knowing what Abbas meant. There was a large divan that could be called a bed, but there weren`t any chairs in this tent. The man grinned and pointed to the divan.

»Bed!«

He then made some gestures to illustrate what he intended to do with them if they would choose the bed. Almost synchronously, Linda and Emily stepped back and said:

»Chair!«

To their surprise, Abbas didn`t seem disappointed and clapped his hands. When a servant appeared, he gave some orders in Arabic and little later, several servants entered his tent. Two of them were carrying two large wooden chairs that looked as if he had stolen them from an old English mansion. Both had armrests and wooden engravings and they were placed side by side, about two yards apart from each other. Abbas made an inviting gesture and they sat down, shielding their breasts with their arms and keeping their legs together.

»Those who refuse to share the bed with the Sheikh will have to spend the night in these chairs«, one of the servants explained to them in good English. Linda and Emily exchanged a view: sitting all night would be a bit inconvenient, but things could be worse.

In fact, things became worse when two of the men tied their wrists behind the backrests, also fastening them to the horizontal bar between the rear legs. Then, another man grabbed Linda`s legs and lifted them from the ground. She squirmed, but could not fight the man who tore off her knickers. He handed it to the Sheikh who sniffed on it, acting as if it was some perfume or even a stimulating drug. Then, he approached Emily. The redhead knew what was coming and though these knickers originally belonged to her, she clenched her jaws shut. Laughing, Abbas squeezed one of her nipples and, when Emily shrieked with pain, he stuffed the sodden underwear between her lips. Retching, Emily endured getting her mouth filled to the bursting. The knotted scarf was tied back between her lips and another one was tied above to further muffle the girl. Then, it was Linda`s turn to be gagged.

She felt pity when she heard the faint protests as the man ripped the loincloth from her co-captive. Then, she saw no point in being defiant and opened her mouth, allowing the Sheikh to gag her with the vile tasting mass of cloth. When her gag had been secured by a cleave gag and another scarf above, Abbas shrugged. Then, he squeezed her nipple as well.

»Sharing the bed with the Sheikh is a great honor«, the servant now told them, »however, if you refuse, this can have two meanings! Either, you are just modest girls who don`t go to bed with anybody. The Sheikh respects this and will accept it – for the moment.«

Linda blinked nervously. Somehow, she just couldn`t believe that she could avoid getting raped by Abbas just by refusing to go to bed with him. The servant smiled and continued:

»On the other hand, it is possible that you are unable to recognize a good man if you see one. If that`s so, you deserve any man who wants you. And now, we have to find out what kind of women you are – decent women or sluts!«

Now, four men approached, each carrying a log with a rope tied around it. They went down to the girls` feet and tied one of the logs to each of their ankles. Then, their legs were bent over the chairs` armrests.

Both Linda and Emily groaned and fought to keep their legs closed. The logs each weighed some ten pounds and in addition, the men prevented them from getting their legs from the armrests. Panting angrily, they both finally managed to press their knees together whilst the men now tied the logs to the chairs` front legs.

»Now, we will see what kind of women you are. If you are modest, you will keep your knees together. If you manage to do so until the morning, you will be allowed to sleep in your own tent and will be treated with respect. However, if you open your thighs before the sun rises, then all men who want may get you, one after the other! And believe me, most of them want!«

The girls groaned again. Their position was quite inconvenient and the logs weren`t really heavy, but after some time, their weight would become unbearable. They had no idea how late it was, but sure, it would be some hours until sunrise. However, the servant had more for them to come:

»We think that wantonness is contagious – if one of you is a slut, the other also is! So, if one of you opens her legs, you are both given to the crowd. We will now plug your ears and blindfold you to help you concentrating. Once the blindfolds are removed, you will see what awaits you – the sunlight or the grin on a man`s face!«

One of the men now grabbed Emily`s hair and held her head still whilst another carefully pushed some wax into her ears. Then, a thick cloth was tied tightly over her eyes. Linda looked at the redhead and her heavy breathing was the last thing she heard before the men plugged her ears, too. Then, her eyes were blindfolded and she was alone with her fears and already felt the weight on her feet tearing her legs down. She bit down on her foul tasting gag and squeezed her knees together, so hard it hurt her joints.

***

Obviously, the slavers had no idea that Kazeem had nearly run out of ammunition, for they remained in their cover. He could hear the cries of the man he had wounded and the words of his comrade taking care of his arm. By now, it had become dark and the scenery was lit by the moon.

Kazeem knew that now, time was his worst enemy. He had neither water nor food and of course, he sooner or later would get tired. His enemies could eat and drink and if they placed a watch, they also could sleep. So, if he didn`t want to die, he would need a good idea fast.

He reached for his cigar case. Three were left, like the three bullets in his revolver. Then, Kazeem suddenly stopped in the middle of lighting a match. Then, a smile formed on his lips. It was a daring plan, but at least, he would not die from thirst or boredom.

Carefully, he opened two of the bullets, collecting the powder and wrapping it into a bit of cloth before pushing that into one of the cigars. The last bullet, he decided to keep – if necessary, for himself.

Kazeem now had something like a joke cigar that would explode after some time once he had lit it. He looked for a pebble and tied it to the cigar before lighting it and taking a few puffs. Then, he threw it into the direction of the barn, as far as he could.

When the pebble hit the ground, a surprised yell could be heard, followed by a shot. Then, he heard the guard laugh:

»Nice try!«

Kazeem waited. If the cigar had went out, he had wasted two bullets for nothing. He looked at the palms, the closest some 50 yards away.

BAM!

The explosion was so loud it even surprised Kazeem, but then, when he heard shooting and yelling, he jumped up and ran for the trees.

He luckily reached the next cover before they realized his ruse of war, but now, they were after him. Kazeem ran, ignoring the pain in his ankle. Then, he threw himself behind a palm and waited.

The men approached carefully. Obviously, they had no intention to lose one or two of them before they could kill Kazeem. He held his breath, praying that they would not find him.

And this time, his prayers were heard. Somewhere in the distance, a coconut fell from a palm and the sound caused the slavers to encircle the place where they thought he was hidden. Silently thanking Allah, Kazeem crawled away and hid inside another barn he thought was far away enough. A snort nearly made him spin around and he nearly fired his last shot, but it was just a donkey. relieved, he padded the animal`s nose.

Indeed, it seemed that they had lost his track. Kazeem left his cover and could see that the slavers now were searching the barn. Then, they began to mount their horses.

Kazeem`s first thought was to just wait until they had disappeared, but the former counselor had a big ego and just his life was too small a price after all he had had to endure. So, he went for the donkey and put the reins on him. There was no saddle, but he would not die from sitting on the animal`s bare back.

The five men were riding slowly and so, he could follow them from the distance. After a few miles, they stopped in the middle of a small canyon. Then, they dismounted and one by one, disappeared in the wall.

When he approached at the place, Kazeem could find the hidden door, but it had been closed again and besides, it would be no good idea to just enter the tunnel without knowing what would expect him. Instead, he examined the area and saw a stone building on a hill, surrounded by old weathered walls with battlements on the top. Obviously, it was an old fortress. Kazeem padded the donkey`s neck.

»So, you and I are the only ones who know where the slavers have their secret hideout! Well, I am afraid that this will cost you some more of your precious sleep!«

The donkey just snorted and Kazeem turned and slowly rode back towards the walls of Muscat. He had a plan that could get him into prison and maybe to the gallows, but he decided not to just vanish in the dark but at least to try to get his revenge on the slavers.

***

Linda`s legs hurt. Her muscles were burning and the hollows of her knees hurt from the constant pressure of the armrests. She had no idea how long it had been since the men had left her like that, blindfolded and with plugged ears. The weights on her feet now felt like a ton and she knew that she would not be able to stand it for very much longer.

However, if she lowered her legs, allowed her thighs to open, she and Emily would be doomed. The thought of a row of anticipating rough men, waiting to be next to do her, still was frightening enough to keep her knees together. And in addition, she was not only fighting for herself.

»Poor Emily! At least, I have been with men before!«

Of course, being gang raped did not belong to her experiences. She had had two relationships back in Germany and then, after being kidnapped in Karachi, she had become the Emir`s concubine. In the last case, she had not been willing to be his bed warmer, but the young man had been gentle and after a while, she had accepted her fate.

After the Emir, there had been some forced sexual encounters with other women, some initiated by Kazeem. The former counselor himself had never slept with her, not even when he had held her captive inside her own cabin. Obviously, he had wanted to spare her for their life together. Now, she had escaped that fate, but the price seemed way too high.

Sweat was pouring down her body and she felt some itching spots she wasn`t able to scratch. Linda groaned, inaudible to her. With great carefulness, she shifted her position a bit without opening her thighs. Even this little extra effort sent waves of pain through her flaming leg muscles and she bit down on the dense packing in her mouth, recognizing that it tasted a bit different than when she had been gagged with it for the last time.

»That`s Emily`s taste«, she thought and somehow, this gave her some new strength. At least, she did not want to be the first to fail in that perfidious game.

***

Like in medieval times, the gates of Muscat were closed during the night, but there was a small door for late visitors like messengers. In peaceful times, the British usually left the night shifts to their Omani colleagues and so, it was a man in the uniform of the Sultan`s Army that opened the small lid and looked at the night visitor that had just knocked.

»Salam aleikum, my friend! I have an important note for Mr. Arnold Pettigrew from the British Colonial Office!«

The guard skeptically looked at the man. He had spoken Arabic, but with an accent – not an English accent, but somehow different. He looked closer and now could see that the man was holding the reins of a donkey and that he was wearing a white suit under a black djellaba.

»One moment, I will get one of the British!«

»No, please! The information is confidential!«

Kazeem lowered his voice and bent close to the lid before he hissed:

»Actually, I am not allowed to mention that, but if I can`t deliver my message on time, the consequences for the Royal family will be terrible! They are planning an assassination of the Prince!«

He had no idea if the Sultan even had a son, but obviously, the guard knew better, for he finally opened the door and said:

»Get in! But I will keep your donkey as a security!«

»Well then, but take good care of it!«, Kazeem said and handed the man a silver coin. When he disappeared in the city`s silent streets, he just hoped that he would use this money to get the donkey some carrots or oat.

When he was standing in front of Pettigrew`s house, he thought whether he should knock, but then, he decided to climb the wall and enter the garden. There, he could see Pettigrew half lying, half sitting in a deck chair, his shirt half open and with a gin bottle to his feet. In his hand, Kazeem could see something white that turned out to be the knickers he had taken from his Mistress.

The servant seemed to have gone to sleep somewhere else and so, Kazeem just took some water from the well and poured it over Pettigrew`s head. The man spluttered and waved with his arms, then, he blinked and stared at Kazeem.

»You!«

He wanted to rise from his seat, but Kazeem now drew his revolver.

»Mr. Pettigrew, please, I have some valuable information for you. Can we talk like civilized men or do I have to keep my gun pointed at you all the time?«

»Nadima! Where is she, what have you done to her, you-«

»The whereabouts of your Mistress are part of said information! However, if you are willing to listen to me carefully, you might also earn a promotion – maybe, even a medal!«

Now, Pettigrew groped for the gin bottle, but Kazeem put it away from him.

»You better call your servant and order some strong coffee. You will need your brain awake – and besides, I am feeling a little sleepy, too!«

The perplexed man obeyed and some minutes later, he and Kazeem were sitting in the garden like old friends, sipping from their cups. Kazeem now told him what he had found out, about Nadima being a spy of the slave traders that had used him to get information and sometimes even forged documents. First, it seemed that Pettigrew was not willing to believe him.

»Mr. Pettigrew, as you sure know I am a wanted criminal. Do you think I came here, risking imprisonment, just to tell you a lie? After all, you can simply check if it’s true! At the moment, your little bed warmer is hiding in an abandoned fortress the slavers use as a hideout! With some men, we could smoke them out!«

Pettigrew was still trying to cope with this news. He still had Nadima`s knickers in his left, kneading the silk. Then, realizing what he was doing, he threw them to the ground, with an expression of disgust. Kazeem picked up the garment, put his to his nose and inhaled deeply.

»You can`t tell from the smell whether a girl is a whore or not!«

Pettigrew shook his head and once more seemed to be looking for his gin bottle. Then, he murmured:

»I- I can`t! She could get killed!«

Kazeem understood: this man still had strong feelings for the woman that had betrayed him. But he had already considered that on his way to Muscat.

»Mr. Pettigrew, can you prepare toast and coffee by yourself for a few days?«

Now, Pettigrew looked even more puzzled than before.

»What? Well – yes, of course!«

»Good! For you will have to fire your servant immediately! Give him a month`s salary as a compensation, so he won`t mind too much! But do it now!«

Pettigrew demanded an explanation, but Kazeem insisted and so, he called for the elderly man and handed him some Pound notes. As Kazeem had guessed, the servant didn`t seem too sorry about his abrupt dismissal.

»He will talk about that!«

»That`s no problem, Mr. Pettigrew! I only wanted to make sure that you have the house for yourself during the next few days! If you follow my plan, you will not only be the hero of the day – but also the Master of the little tart by night! That is, if you are interested in seeing her again!«

Now, Pettigrew smiled for the first time since Kazeem had first seen him.

»Well, there are a few things I would like to tell her! Now, what about your plan?«

***

Some two hours later, in the early hours of the next day, a group of some ten soldiers arrived at the plateau on which the fortress was located. They quickly dismounted their horses and looked at the building that still was some half a mile away. However, that was blank distance for the dismantled mountain cannon they had brought with them on two packing horses and that the men now rapidly built together.

»You know your orders! No attack, just keep the door and the walls under fire! Blow that gate into pieces!«

»Aye, Corporal!«

One minute later, the first projectile was fired. It missed the door, but hit the walls and the Corporal who was watching the fortress could see someone walking on the wall`s top.

»Let`s knock at their door!«, he thought with a grin. Then, he shouted:

»Fire!«

The cannon could be fired every 30 seconds if it was operated by trained men. So, the command was followed by another shot that this time made the fortified door shake in its hinges. The man on the wall ran away to raise the alarm, but the Corporal was quite sure that by now, everyone inside the fortress was awake.

»Group A has started the game!«

At the canyon, close to the hidden door, another group of soldiers was waiting. They had built up barricades at both sides of the canyon and so, the slavers would be trapped once they tried to sneak away through the secret passage. With a little bit of luck, they could get the entire posse without losing a single man.

Kazeem watched the scene from a cover not too far from where Group A was located. He had no idea how many men were inside the fortress, but sure, it couldn`t be more than a dozen or so. Otherwise, the slavers wouldn`t have sent just five men after him earlier.

After one hour, a soldier was sent by Group B, reporting that they had managed to capture six men whilst two or three more had run back into the tunnel.

»We tried to follow them, but these catacombs are a veritable labyrinth! But now, they know that their secret escape way is neither secret nor an escape for them!«

And indeed, a little later, four more men appeared at the gate, one holding a white flag tied to a stake. Kazeem spurned his horse and rode to the shattered entrance, trying to get there before the soldiers who now took the surrendering slaver prisoners.

At the court, he dismounted, holding the gun in his hand. He doubted that any of the criminals would put up a heroic last stand, but he did not want to die from a false consideration.

Inside, he could see that the old fortress had just been a camouflage, for the interior was that of a palace. Obviously, the slave trade could still get a man rich. At one corner, he detected a staircase that led to the cellar.

Kazeem, following his intuition, followed the stairs. Now, he was in the cellar of the old fortress where he could see several iron doors, some with small barred openings in them. He walked the corridor of what had once been the arrest cells and could suddenly hear an aching sound. He looked inside the first cell and saw a man. Despite his bruises he could tell it was Arthur. It looked as if the little tart had told her friends about what he had done to her and they had not appreciated it, despite the fact he had freed her.

For a moment, he considered shooting the traitor through the opening in the door, but he decided against it. He had suffered already and so, he decided to forgive him. If Arthur played his cards right, he could pretend to be a victim of the slavers and even avoid an arrest. To Kazeem, it was someone else that mattered.

He found the girl in one of the other cells. She was clad in a lacy silk nightgown whose left shoulder strap was ripped. Kazeem frowned. Had the slavers imprisoned her, too? But then, he looked at the floor and saw a small key. Now, he understood:

Seeing that the fortress was lost, the little tart had decided to pretend that she was a captured girl. She had locked herself in, even taken care that she looked more like the helpless and  vulnerable victim, scantily clad as she was. Then, she had thrown the key through the opening and was waiting to be »rescued«.

Kazeem heard steps from above and knew that the soldiers had now reached the palace. Soon, they would get down here, too.

He picked up the key and unlocked the door.

»Oh my God, thank you, officer, I-«

She abruptly fell silent when she recognized Kazeem. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth. Before she could scream, Kazeem had trapped her arms and pressed a soaked wad over her face.

»Mr. Pettigrew is waiting for you, Little Tart!«

»Mmmhhrrrrmmmm! Uuuuhhmmmph!

The girl squirmed and moaned, trying to get out of his grip, but she was wedged between Kazeem and the wall. He steadily looked into her eyes that grew even bigger before they twisted and finally closed whilst she stopped moving. He left the cloth over her face for a minute or so longer, then, he hoisted her over his shoulder.

***

»I! Can`t! Stand! It!«

Linda wept into her blindfold. Her legs now not only hurt, they were aflame. Her muscles cramped and she was trembling on her whole body from the strenuous effort of keeping her knees together. Still, she had no idea how much time had passed. But sure, their captors would not let them suffer if they had persisted until the morning!

Every moment, Abbas would give orders to free them from their bonds and gags. They would be carried to soft silk beds where their legs would get a tender massage whilst they would be fed with fruits and delights and then, the Sheikh would tell them that he had been so impressed by their perseverance that he would set them free immediately.

Crying hoarsely into her gag, Linda looked to her left. There, though she could neither see nor hear her, Emily was sitting. Linda was sure that the strong redhead still had not been defeated by the weights. And she did not want to be the weak link either.

But then, a pain worse than anything she had endured strayed through her legs. Linda bucked in her seat and groaned. Then, she felt that her knees had no longer contact to each other. She desperately tried to close her legs again, but inch after inch, her legs were pulled downwards and finally, the logs touched the sand, forcing her to sit there with her legs open.

»Nnnngggg!«

With all her might, she tried to lift her legs, but now, she felt that there was no more power left in her muscles. Her legs were trembling and she knew that she would not be able to move them for the next hours or so. Sobbing silently, Linda tried to murmur an excuse towards Emily through her gag.

»Perhaps, it is day already! Or maybe, this was just a terrible prank and they are just laughing at us, right now! They can`t be so brutal to-«

For some time, nothing happened. Linda`s hope grew, since she was sure that the men had been waiting for them to succumb and would have thrown themselves upon them once the »gate had opened«. But there was nothing but darkness and silence.

Then, she could feel something: the small vibrations of heavy approaching steps. A smell tickled her nose, the smell of horse sweat mixed with leather. The smell of a mounted soldier or warrior.

»This man has just come to free us, he will not do us any harm, he-«

The blindfold was torn from Linda`s eyes and she saw a man bent over her. He had a dark skin and a black beard and he grinned down at her wolfishly. With a faint croak, the girl fainted.

»You still have quite an effect on white women!«, the man beside the bearded one joked. He had removed Emily`s blindfold and was just working on her gag. She was awake, but her blushing cheeks told the men that relief about being rescued and embarrassment about being seen like this kept themselves in balance.

Corporal Ranjib, a Gurkha soldier, drew his trademark knife and began to cut Linda loose from the chair. He was used to such jokes and he knew that his comrades were just kidding. At least, he had been allowed more than a glimpse of these two.

They were members of the »Desert Patrol«, a company of some 100 men that were all skilled riders. They usually patrolled the Southern foothills of the great desert, to show presence towards both the Bedouins and the Turkish troops that occasionally showed up there, too. But some days ago, they had been told that a Sheikh called Abbas had stolen a herd of Army horses and so, they had decided to pay a visit to his camp.

Their Captain had expected to get into some fruitless negotiations, since he didn`t have enough men to attack the camp. However, the scouts he had sent came back, reporting that there wasn`t a single guard. All the men seemed to be sitting in a half circle around a tent and looking inside, as if they were watching a theatre.

Recognizing a golden opportunity if he saw one, the Captain had ordered a surprise attack. The panic among the tribesmen had been complete and after some shooting, the Arabs had either been fleeing into the night or had surrendered to the soldiers. A few Bedouins were wounded, but the only casualty in the rows of the Desert Patrol was a young man that had fallen from his horse and broken his arm.

»Now, I am really curious what took their attention so much – by Jove!«

There, lit by dozens of lamps and torches, were two women sitting side by side, a blonde and a small redhead. Both were stark naked and the sweat on their skin glistered in the light. Several of his men were staring at the two beauties, sitting there with their thighs spread. The Captain took some minute before he could croak the order to take care of the two captives.

»Sir?«

The Captain turned around and saw it was Jenkins, another young man that had so far not shown any superior qualities. He had ambitions as a journalist and so, he usually let Jenkins write the reports. The soldier saluted and began:

»Sir, I am not sure whether my report on this event should contain, well, every detail«, he hummed and hawed. The Captain nodded. Their rescue had been embarrassing enough to these two women, so there was no need that the people in Aden would learn about more than two kidnapped Ladies had been freed. There would be enough rumors about what exactly the Arabs had done to the two pretty women.

»However«, Jenkins continued, »I am wondering what to do with the photos?«

»Photos«, the Captain asked, raising his eyebrow. Jenkins held up his small camera. He had a good eye for impressing pictures and so, the Captain allowed him his hobby.

»I was documenting our victory, Sir, and when I approached the tent, well-«

»You just forgot to stop filming, since you were so overwhelmed by the way these savages have treated these Ladies!«, the Captain said, unable to hide his smile completely.

»Well, I am afraid you will have to destroy these photos!«

Jenkins nodded, but before he could turn away, the Captain added:

»On the other hand, it is perhaps better to keep one copy – for my private archive!«

»Yes, Sir!«

Jenkins smiled conspiratorially. Then, remembering he was talking to a superior, he saluted. Before he could go, however, the Captain once more stopped him:

»Jenkins, you may not know this, but I am a bit messy with my private things. So, to avoid problems, we should perhaps have another copy or two, just for documentary reasons. I am sure you will find some trustworthy men in the company who pick up that burden and will keep a copy of this photo, just in case I will lose mine!«

»Yes, Sir!«

The Captain smiled, knowing that Jenkins would find some 100 trustworthy men. As a good officer, he cared for his men and providing them with something to cope with the lonely nights in the desert was the least he could do for them.

***