Tuesday's Child

by Keliana

My name is Keliana. I am the fifth and last wife of Ahmad ibn Fadlan. I am telling this tale at the request of my sisters - Johanna, Deena, Christine, Susana - and my husband. I am Gypsy, a Rom.

My people have always traveled, free, unhampered by laws of any nation or any man. We moved throughout Europe, selling trinkets, and potions; my role in the family enterprise was to tell fortunes, using the crystal ball and Tarot cards - to entice foolish fat men and their more foolish, fatter wives to part with their hard earned money. I was very good at my job. We also put my knowledge of herbs to good use, both for ourselves, and to sell. I was lucky enough to be able to learn languages easily, and acted as interpreter for the family. I was also very good at protecting my heart, having lost a sweetheart to a Gaj knife, and consequently let no one close to me. My nights were spent with my nose buried in books I bought or bartered for. My mother, poor soul, despaired of ever finding a husband for me.

My family had been warned by fellow travelers that there were Gaj who were looking for Rom, to "have some fun" as the saying went. We moved warily, constantly on the watch for trouble. But, days passed without incident, and to my eternal regret we became careless, complacent.

The attack on us, when it came, was a total surprise - none of ever thought that Gaj, fat asses all, could move so quickly! But there they were, surrounding us, shouting, waving torches dangerously close to canvas wagon covers. We couldn't run, there was no time; all I could do was leave my wagon and hope that quiet surrender would save our lives. As I stepped down, I could already see the bodies of my family members lying around the clearing where we had stopped for the night. Hideous, unnecessary wounds, sights that made my soul die and my heart harden. As my foot touched the ground, rough hands grabbed me and spun me around.

"Aah, look, a beautiful, lying Gypsy bitch, and now she's all ours!" a voice rasped in my ear. I struggled to free myself, but my captor was much stronger than I. He yanked the hair tied at the nape of my neck, pulling my head back. "Oh, what a beautiful bitch you are, you will give us great sport tonight." I spat at him, and received a stinging slap across the face for my trouble. I saw my father, blood pouring from his chest, lying a few feet away from me; I could hear my mother moaning behind me. Tears of sorrow and rage poured down my face, and I fought, scratching and biting where I could, as the Gaj bastard dragged me across the clearing.

"Stephan, look! Look at this prize I have captured!" Imbecile! I would find a way to kill myself rather than let any of these animals do…he pushed me to the ground at the feet of the man called Stephan.

"Artur, I told you - we must leave no one, no one who can talk! How stupid can you be?" he hissed.

"But Stephan, look at her - she is, she is, we can…"

"We can NOTHING," Stephan roared. "Kill her - now!"

I bowed my head, and waited for death. Long seconds passed, and nothing happened. I raised my head and saw the two of them, stupid eyes bulging, appraising me. "Look at her hair - look at that creamy skin. She is beautiful," Stephan murmured. "Do you remember, Artur, that man in the market the other day - the one buying the spices? There is a rumor that he is also looking for one such as this."

I looked around desperately for something, anything to let me end this horror. There - a knife. As the two Gaj idiots continued to discuss this mysterious trader, calling him Renauld and crowing about their newfound good fortune, I slowly inched my way towards the knife. It was almost within reach… "BITCH! What the hell…" Stephan, this time, dragged me back by my hair and clamped a hand across my throat. "You are not going to deprive me of gold, Gypsy!" He tightened his dirty hand across my throat, choking me. "You will sit like a good little girl, and you will be quiet, or we will bind and gag you."

"Then go ahead, because I will never be silent, Gaj," I hissed at him. He released me, only to strike me across the face again, sending me spinning back into the dirt and knocking me unconscious. When I awoke, I was in a dark, smelly room. My hands were tied to a bedpost, a dirty scarf was tied around my mouth. I could hear voices through the open door.

"Where is this treasure that you propose to sell to me, gentlemen?" An odd voice, a French accent, speaking Hungarian badly.

"Oh, my lord, are we to understand that you are in the market for, shall we say, something greater than gold?" Stephan's harsh grating voice turned oily and fawning. "This is indeed a treasure, a find unsurpassed…"

"Enough, you fool!" the other voice thundered. "Is it a woman? Is she a virgin?"

"Well, uh, I," Stephan stammered. "Yes, my lord, her beauty is breathtak…"

"ANSWER ME! IS she a virgin?"

"We don't know my lord," Artur answered. "But, when you see her, it will not matter. We will fetch her for you right now."

"There's no need, I will see for myself. A large figure appeared in the doorway, paused, and stared at me in the gloom. "Why is she bound? I think you are lying to me, gentlemen. She is filthy!" the stranger rumbled.

"We, I, well you see…" Artur, stuttering and sputtering as badly as his friend had a moment ago.

The stranger came to the bed, and unfastened my gag. He was an older man, grizzled, with dead eyes and tanned skin. "Who are you, girl? Where do you come from?" His voice was milder then when he had spoken to my captors, but his cold eyes pierced me as he stared down. I stared back at him, suddenly afraid to answer. "Well? Answer me!"

My voice shook a little, and I hated myself for my weakness. "My name is Keliana. I am Romany."

"Ah, a Gypsy…well, let me unfasten these ropes and we will take a better look at you, gypsy girl. His gnarled hands helped me to sit up. Stephan bustled back into the room, holding a smoking lamp. "Your Honor, just look at her, is she not perfection itself?"

"Yes, yes, indeed, she is, quite fine…girl, tell me the truth - are you virgin?"

"How dare you!" I yelled. "That is NONE of your business!"

"Oh, it is my business now, little one. And it is imperative that you be untouched, or your fate will be far worse than the worst you could possibly think. Well?"

"I am," I muttered sullenly.

"Good, good. I am Renauld, you will be coming with me."

"Where? What could you possibly want with me? "I lied, I have been with many men, I am diseased, you cannot want me," I cried. "Too late little one, too late," my new master smiled at me, and turned to the two Gaj. "What is your price, gentlemen?" A succinct discussion followed; the outrageous demands of the Gaj quickly fell under Renauld's withering stare, and a sum of money exchanged hands.

"Come, Keliana." Renauld made me sit up and quickly tied my hands in front of me. He helped me outside and into a wagon laden with trunks - goods to trade at our destination, he said. We traveled to the north and west, stopping to purchase additional boxes of spices and herbs. He noticed my interest in these items, and learning of my expertise, put me to work bargaining with the merchants of towns we passed through. I did not dare to defy him. He cleaned me up, gave me new clothes and made me wear a wide-brimmed hat, to protect my face from the sun, he said; my hands were always tied in front of me, carefully hidden. My questions were met with laughter or silence, and I was never left alone long enough to escape.

We finally arrived at a city by the sea. We were met by a group of men, Renauld's men, and he informed me that we would be boarding a ship and moving across the ocean. I was frightened, and intrigued. "Where are we going, please tell me," I implored as we drove to the docks. "Why won't you answer any of my questions?"

"All right, all right, do you really want to know? You are the final payment of a long-standing debt, cherie. Your imprisonment will free me, finally, from an old burden," Renauld replied.

"But where are you taking me? How can I be a payment - will I be a slave?" I turned my head so he would not see my tears; I could not bear the thought of slavery, I would find a way to end my life, I would… "We will be traveling to Arabia, my dear. And, you may be a slave, or you may not," he replied enigmatically. I was the last to board the ship, led to a small cabin and tied once again, I watched through a small porthole as we got underway. It would be so easy to lie, to tell that the next part of my journey was simple, wonderful. It was not. I became deathly ill, seasick constantly, even vomiting all over Renauld when he came one evening to assess my condition. I was miserable. By the time the ship docked, I was so weak that I could barely walk down the gangplank to land.

"This will not do, this will NOT do at all," Renauld raged when he saw me. "We must find a place to keep her, until she recovers. Stupid girl, you will NOT ruin this for me!" Accommodations were found, along with an old woman to care for me. She spoke a language I had never heard; our communication was with nods and gestures. And care for me she did, feeding me, bathing me, forcing me to drink strange liquids. Renauld appeared at last, one morning, speaking briefly with my nurse.

"Well, are you recovered, girl? Do you think you can travel?" he asked gruffly as he swept a look over me. "No, Lord, I am still ill, I cannot possibly…" I replied, speaking softly, weakly. He grabbed my chin. "Liar, you are fine. Keliana, you cannot escape your fate, and it will go much easier for you if you accept this." I slapped his hand away, and he watched, smiling slightly as I fought tears once again.

So, once again I was taken from a prison; this time lifted onto a magnificent white horse, and led from the seaport town into the desert. I was swathed from head to foot in robes, to protect me from the fierce sun. I was happy when we finally stopped each evening; I could stretch, remove the uncomfortable robes and headdress, breathe in the cool night air. Renauld even let me wander away from our camp each evening, but always had one of his men follow me at a short distance.

After several days of traveling, we came upon a series of dazzling white buildings. "This is your new home, Keliana," Renauld grinned, helping me down from my mount. "It will be in your best interests to behave like a proper young lady, no antics, no more spitting and kicking. The good people here will not put up with that nonsense."

"I am not proper, and I will NOT behave!" I snarled, glaring at him. "No one can make me, especially not these, these, foreign Gaj!" "We shall see, my dear," he laughed, turning to lead me into a courtyard.

Smiling women surrounded me, laughing, touching my hair and face, chattering in the strange language of my seaport nurse. They lead me to a large room; perfumed water was brought to me, and these women actually tried to wash me! I backed away, cursing and kicking; their hurt bewilderment at my reaction caused me to pause. They hastily left the room, looking back at me and muttering, and I then cursed myself for losing the only female company I had seen in days. I wandered around, picking up beautiful silver and gold objects - boxes, goblets - and fingered ornate tapestries, obviously brought here from the countries I knew so well.

The door to my new prison opened again, and two more women slipped inside. They stood by the door, observing me, and I gazed back at them, fearfully. One was tall and slender and had the most amazing mane of red hair. The other was shorter, with a pretty, friendly face.

"You are Keliana, welcome," the red-haired woman said, stepping forward. "We welcome you to our home." "Yes, yes," exclaimed the other. "Our two sisters are busy attending to household matters right now, or they would be here to greet you as well."

I regarded them with some amazement. "You are sisters? You do not look alike. How do you come to speak a European language? And how do you know my name?" I backed away, wary, not trusting their warm, open faces.

"We are sisters in spirit. My name is Deena, this is Christine. You will meet the others soon. And we come from many different places, but this is our home now, as it is yours. Renauld told us you were here, Renauld and Ahmad."

"Who is Ahmad…this is not my home! This is my prison, and I will do anything, anything to leave it! " To my utter embarrassment, tears began to pour down my face again. "I will NOT be your slave, I will die first…" I turned and sank down on the bed behind me. There was a moment of strained silence, and then I felt someone sit beside me, a hand on my shoulder.

"You are not a slave, who told you this?" Christine said gently. "It is not the custom of our husband to buy foreign slaves, you are to be…" My head snapped up and I pulled away from her. "Did you say OUR husband? What manner of women are you?" She regarded me calmly. "What manner of women? Keliana, we are strong women, we are good women - we are women united in our love for one man, our husband, Ahmad ibn Fadlan. There is nothing wrong in this, it is the custom of this land. When you see Ahmad, when you meet him tomorrow, you will know. You will come to feel the same way."

"Know what?" I choked. "What is my role in this, this evil place?"

"No, no, it is not evil, not at all, you will come to love it here, you will be one of us!" Deena cried, kneeling in front of me. "We were all afraid, angry, as you are, but you will see, it is a beautiful place, and you will fall in love with Fadlan, you will!" Never, I thought, never…I will end my life, I will find a way to escape…

"You must come with us now," Christine said, rising and taking my hand. "We want you to meet Johanna and Susana, you are probably hungry? Did that stupid Renauld bring any clothes for you? We must find you something to wear…" The two women led me from the room, describing the various areas of the compound, trying to draw me into conversation. We came to a cool, shaded room, adjacent to some sort of cooking area. It was occupied by two more women, and several children.

"This is where we spend a much of our time, so that we can be together, so that we can help each other," Deena explained as she led me forward." She stopped before one women, with a lovely, calm face and dark eyes that watched me intently. "Keliana, this is Johanna, ibn Fadlan's first wife." First wife, I thought scornfully. What a fool to put up with this nonsense! I lowered my eyes hastily, so that Johanna would not read my thoughts, but I was too late.

"Welcome, Keliana - you ARE welcome here, please do not be angry or afraid. We love one another, and we will love you, also," she said softly, drawing me away from the others to a corner of the room. "I understand your feelings, I was once in your position - we all were. No one will pressure you to do anything, do you understand? You are safe here, you will come to love it, I promise you."

I stared at her doubtfully. "You are ALL married to this man? How can you bear it? It is against all rules."

"Not the rules of the desert, Keliana. Here, Ahmad is the ruler - and he makes the rules. It is customary for an Arabian prince to have more than one wife."

"Concubines! That is disgusting!" I whispered. "No, not concubines," Johanna returned sternly. "Wives - all beloved wives." Was I to be another wife? Johanna smiled, as if reading my thoughts. "You are confused, I can see that. I know it is hard right now, but please, believe me, you will become accustomed to this way of life. We all struggled at first, you know." Her eyes shone with sincerity and compassion; I could not insult her by calling her a liar, but I thought it nonetheless.

"This is Susana, Ahmad's fourth wife." Johanna led me to a table at one side of the room, where another beautiful, dark haired woman was mixing something in a bowl. She smiled at me and murmured a greeting.

The women turned to different tasks, leaving me to wander about the room. "Whose children are these?" I asked quietly. "Ours," Christine answered. "The twins are of Deena, those two are Susana's; Johanna's sons are older and are studying with a tutor. This is my sweet baby." I continued to marvel at the calm acceptance of these women, did they never fight? Was there no jealousy? I could not believe it. I studied Christine as she fed a beautiful, blue-eyed baby girl.

"Is she your only child?" "No, I have another daughter…" Christine hesitated, then leaned towards me. "Please don't be afraid. I think you are like me, I think you feel you can never be free again. Am I correct?" I stared at her, amazed. "Yes, I have never been confined, I do not think I could bear it," I whispered. "What am I going to do? What will happen to me?"

"I would like to be your friend. If you please Ahmad, then yes, you will be the fifth wife. You will have some freedom, I guarantee it, just, well…" her voice trailed off again.

"I will never, never be this man's wife! I would rather die first," I hissed fiercely. And then my curiosity got the better of me. "You cannot do what you like? Is this society worse than that of Europe?"

"Keliana, I understand - I felt the same way! I was so frightened, it was abhorrent to me to think that I would be a concubine, but we are not - truly. We are well loved and well treated." I stared at her doubtfully. "So, you can do whatever you please?" I asked.

"Well, yes and no. We, that is to say, the wives, can do some things, but in the desert women are protected, sheltered. I will admit, it is hard many times. I love horses, love to ride, and cannot do so as much as I want. I wish, oh I wish…" She stopped again and looked at me. "I have said too much, I apologize."

I wanted to know what she meant. "No, please, tell me, what do you wish?"

"Ahmad, he is a passionate man, do you understand? And we are, er, fertile women. I love horses, I love to ride above almost all things - it's my stand for freedom! But if I am pregnant…I cannot." She gave a little laugh. "And, his fear as each of us nears our time, every time, is unbelievable; we are at our wits' end trying to deal with him them!" I would be happy if I could wait for a while, but it is impossible to refuse him."

"Fear? What does this man have to fear?"

"His mother died in childbirth," Christine explained. "And he worries about us so much, that it would be almost better if we never became pregnant!" Her green eyes gazed at me. "You are a gypsy, yes? Your accent, your clothes...do you, I mean, would you, oh - I cannot ask." Suddenly, I knew exactly what it was that she was asking of me. "You wish to know if I know of something to prevent conception, do you not?" She nodded slightly. "And if your wonderful husband finds out about this? I think I would be severely punished, don't you?"

Christine laughed a little. "Oh, but he would never find out - would he?" We looked at each other for a moment and then smiled. "He could not hear it from me, certainly. You are right, I have some knowledge of herbs," I murmured. "We would have to find the boxes Renauld brought with him, we will find what we need there…"

"Done!" she whispered. "I know exactly where everything is stored. You will help me? And we will be great friends, I know it!" I nodded and we laughed together, as Deena and Susana came into the room and announced that a meal was ready.

As we sat around a low table, the women explained what would happen to me. I would have to submit to the bathing, perfuming; I would be given a sumptuous gown to wear, and Renauld would then present me to this ibn Fadlan for inspection. If he approved (and they all assured me that he would), a marriage ceremony would take place tomorrow evening. Despite their assurances and gestures of friendship, I silently vowed to present the worst possible face, to make him hate me and release me. But, as Christine escorted me back to my bedchamber, I also felt as if I had passed some sort of test. I did not sleep that night. In the morning, Tuesday morning, I submitted docily to the ministrations of the servants, I let them dress me in beautiful robes, thread jewels through my hair, put rings on my hands. And I let them lead me through the compound, to an antechamber door, where Renauld waited.

"Ah, you are perfection, cherie," he breathed when he saw me. "ibn Fadlan will not be able to resist you - my debt will be satisfied, finally!" I was silent, and allowed him to lead me in to a huge room. Several men stood about, talking quietly. And, seated at the very center of the room, I saw a man. Tall, handsome, with curling dark hair and eyes the color of the coffee I used to grind for my parents. This must be Ahmad ibn Fadlan; my hands shook from fear, but I felt my heart skip with some unknown emotion as I gazed at him. Renauld pulled me to stand in front of Fadlan and bowed deeply. "Master, it is an honor to be with you again. I have brought a gift, my final gift to you."

"And what is this gift, Renauld? What have you brought to me?" a deep voice asked quietly. I felt a spurt of anger, how dare he! I was not a thing, I was a living being! Although I tried to keep a composed face, I knew that my eyes were betraying me.

"She seems…spirited, sir. And you believe that this woman will satisfy your debt to me?"

"I pray so, Lord, it is my fervent hope that you will be pleased and discharge me," Renauld answered, his voice breaking a little. "I am now an old man, and wish only to return to my country to live in peace."

Fadlan studied me for several moments. "What is your name?" he finally asked. I stared at him, and would not answer. "Go on, girl, tell him!" Renauld hissed. "Her name is Keliana, she is a fair flower of Hungary, Lord, is she not beautiful?" His reedy voice sounded amazingly like that of my original captors all those weeks ago, fawning and pleading.

"I would prefer that the lady speak for herself, Renauld. You are dismissed; I will deal with you later." Renauld reluctantly backed away, leaving me to stand alone in front of ibn Fadlan. "Wait - what language does she speak?" he called. My temper rose and without thinking I snapped, in Spanish, "I speak five languages, which one would you prefer?" A gasp rose from several of the occupants of the room, and he stared at me, surprised and slightly amused.

"Which five? This is most interesting," he replied, in English! "I also speak several languages." I watched him warily; he watched me, smiling. I lifted my chin, determined not to speak again. "Well, are you going to answer me? No, I see that you are not. Very well, there is no need. But please come closer." A slim, tanned hand beckoned me, and although I resisted for a moment, I was drawn to him. His voice was melodious and he spoke again. "You are a gypsy, are you not? A restless people, as mine are. I welcome you to my home. Have the sisters" - and here my mouth gaped open - "yes, yes, I know they call themselves sisters - welcomed you?"

My resolve was mysteriously disappearing, but I was determined not to give in. "They have welcomed me. What manner of man are you that you must have all these wives?" I replied. Another gasp came from several of the assembled company, and Fadlan's face became serious. "I do not need to explain to you, but - this is our custom, and, I assure you, one that you will come to like." I shook my head slowly, backing up a step. "Ah, but you will, I promise you," he said softly, smiling again. His incredible eyes held mine for a long moment. Fadlan then called to a man standing near the door. "Please see the lady back to her rooms, and ask that preparations for the ceremony be finished quickly." I was quickly led away, my fate had been sealed. I would be Ahmad ibn Fadlan's fifth wife.

I was left alone in the room I had slept in, for what seemed like hours. The man who had brought me back there finally arrived, and led me in another direction, to the most beautiful room I had ever seen in my life. Gold, silver, gems sparkled in the light of hundreds of candles and torches; a group of men stood to one side, and in a dark corner I could see the figures of four women sitting quietly. Fadlan again was in the center of the room, and as I was lead forward, he watched me, dark eyes sparkling. Another man stood in front of us, said something, Fadlan replying in a quiet voice. I couldn't understand any of the proceedings, but I knew I was being married to the man at my side.

When the man stopped talking, Fadlan turned me to face him. "Keliana, you will go now and wait for me. I will be with you shortly, my wife." My eyes were blinded by tears, and I stumbled as I turned with a servant to leave the room. One of the women in the corner started to rise, and I caught a glimpse of red hair. The others quickly pulled her back, but I could feel her eyes following me as we exited. Once again I was being led down a long corridor.

As we walked, I could hear men and horses on the other side of the wall. Suddenly, someone began to shout and curse; the servant paused to listen. As the noise increased, he walked slowly towards a door, beckoning me to follow. A horse, one of Renauld's, was bucking and whirling around the main courtyard, kicking up dust, avoiding all efforts to control him. The servant plunged into the group chasing the horse, leaving me in the doorway.

I saw the white stallion that had brought me here, saddled and loosely tied near the gate. A chance! I moved slowly and quietly towards him, glancing around with disbelief, then hope, as no one noticed me. I managed to pull myself into the saddle and quickly kicked the horse into a gallop through the main gate. I laughed as I saw the startled face of the servant, moving to try to intercept me - the horse was much too fast and I was on my way to freedom!

I flew across the desert, tearing off the headdress binding my hair. I could hear more shouts behind me, and knew that my escape was now public. I had no idea where to go; I just rode blindly, as fast as I could. I could hear men and horses behind me, drawing closer, and I urged mine to go faster. Too fast, unfortunately; the stallion stumbled and fell, tossing me to the sand, filling my eyes and mouth with grit. As I lay face down, once again, tears filled my eyes. I would surely die now, either from exposure or at the hand of an enraged Arab. Horses surrounded me; there was silence, and then the sound of hooves moving away. Someone moved towards me.

"No, no I will NOT go back - leave me here, please," I sobbed.

Gentle hands turned me and lifted me up. It was Ahmad - kneeling beside me, staring at me. "Why did you run away? Are you injured? You could have killed yourself…or is that what you wanted to do, little one? Do you really think death would be preferable to being my wife?" He sounded serious; not angry, but concerned and sad. He gently wiped the sand and dirt from my eyes, and wrapped me in a soft cashmere blanket. "If we had not followed you, you would have died, you know that! Look at me, Keliana, talk to me. Help me to understand, tell me what I can to convince you that I will not hurt you."

My voice choked with tears. "This is all so strange. I cannot bear the thought of being confined, I have always been free. I do not understand how you can have all these women, I cannot be one of them - I am so frightened…so frightened."

Strong arms tightened around me. "You have nothing to be frightened of! Truly, little one, you will have a good life here, a happy life, he murmured. "I realize that you value your freedom, I understand - I feel the same way. You will be able to continue many of the activities you are accustomed to. You have spoken with Christine, you know she does exactly as she pleases! And it is the same for all the sisters." He paused, and raised my face to his. "As to the other…you know this is the custom of my people?" I nodded slightly, my heart was beginning to pound, but not with fear this time. "How can you love more than one woman?" I whispered.

"How can I not? Each one of you is beautiful; each one of you is special, and precious to me."

"How can I be special to you? You don't even know me!" I cried, struggling in his arms a little. "I know you," he replied. "Did no one tell you that I watched you yesterday? The sisters did not tell you that I also observed you when you met them? And I spoke to each of them, asked them about you. I would not have gone through with the ceremony if they had not agreed to welcome you."

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry again, "Observed me, watched me, would you like to check my teeth? You make me sound like a prize horse!"

Ahmad laughed. "No, little one, not a horse - a woman, an incredibly beautiful, intelligent woman. I love your spirit, I love that you are a little wild," His hand lifted, to touch my hair. "This is like a cloud, so soft…your eyes are like mine - they say the Gypsies come from Arabia, did you know that? And your mouth, it looks like it would taste of honey…" he traced my lips gently, and then lowered his head and kissed me. I could feel myself trembling, but again, not from fear. "Do you like this?" he whispered against my lips. "Your mouth was made for me to kiss, your body was made for me to love…

He kissed me again, cupping my face with one hand. The other hand began to slowly trace a path, starting at my throat, wandering to gently touch a breast. As I shivered slightly, he slowly moved the blanket and unfastened my robe, sliding it off my shoulders, and lowered his mouth to the erect nipple, sending shockwaves through my body. I moved restlessly, and felt him smile as his tongue moved in slow circles.

"Little one, you like this, don't you?" A hand glided down my body, moving to trace my inner thigh. "Are you cold? No, you feel so warm, so good. I can think of nothing I want more than to make love to you, with the stars smiling at us…"

I opened my mouth, but no words would emerge. I shook my head helplessly; wave after wave of sensation coursed through me as his fingers languidly moved, stroking. "And this, you do you like this, Keliana? Your body is telling me that you are ready for me, can you feel it? You are ready to be loved…a finger slowly moved into me, drawing back, entered again, teasing me. "This is what you will feel, love, do you like it? Like velvet, so soft. You will not be hurt, you will never be hurt again. You are safe here, with me." He continued touching me, playing, whispering to me. "Keliana, let me love you. I can feel your heart, can you feel mine?" He took one of my hands and pressed it to his chest; I could feel his heart pounding, and began to let my hand wander as his was.

My fear, my mistrust, disappeared. I did feel like I was the most precious thing in his world. He further parted my legs with one of his; I could feel him against me, hard, ready. "Let me love you…" As he entered me, there was a sharp, brief pain, and then only sweet passion as he began to move, filling me, rocking gently and then with powerful strokes. "Keliana, little one, I am yours now, and yes, you like this, don't you? You love this, I know you do, you feel so wonderful, so tight."

"Ahmad, yes, I do I do…" I breathed, and he laughed, sliding his hands under me, lifting me to him as he drove deeper. His eyes smiled into mine, he murmured something in his native language, holding me, loving me. I closed my eyes and gave myself to him, to our dance of love. As our breathing finally stilled, and I looked up, I did see the stars smiling.

"Keliana, you are a treasure, my treasure, always, he said, "and you are bound to me, but only with love. However, I prefer to continue this idyll in a more comfortable place, don't you?" I smiled up at him, touched his face, and repeated, "Bound only with love, and yes, I am ready to go anywhere with you."

We rode slowly back to the compound, me raising my head to meet his lips frequently. The courtyard was deserted; he lifted me down from his horse and carried me through the corridors to his chambers, tossing me onto the huge bed. "I think you are happy now, yes, Keliana?" he said softly, as he followed me down. "Yes, my Lord, very happy," I whispered.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, my husband was gone. As I stretched and sat up, I felt something against my ankle. I glanced down, and saw a glittering golden chain...Ahmad's promise…"you are bound to me, with love…"

My days are now filled with laughter, love and friendship. Freedom? Yes, although not as much as I had before my new life began. But the other qualties of life that I have discovered more than make up for that. My family is everything to me - my husband, my sisters, our children. Our lives are so very joyful.