A Silver Lamp

"Your effects are in the office outside, but we need this man's," Tahavi jerked a thumb at the scowling jailor, "key to get to it."

"Nay, you misunderstand. It's still in the palace."

"They caught you before you stole it?" Imre asked in surprise, turning his head to face them even as his hands worked gags into their prisoners' mouths.

"No, I stole it, but they caught me on the way out. I hid it in the palace so I would have something to bargain with."

"This isn't over, thief!" the jailor snarled as Imre stuffed a gag into his mouth. He spat it out again and glared at Bromm. "You won't make it out of the city alive! I'm going to enjoy peeling the flesh from your bones!"

"Quiet," Imre retorted with a shushing noise. "It's the middle of the night and people are trying to sleep." He worked the gag in at last and secured it. The jailor's muffled threats continued as the four of them made their way from the room.

"So what are you going to do about the lamp?" Tahavi asked, locking the cell door behind them.

"What would you have me do? I'm going back in to get it."

"Back in?" Imre asked incredulously.

"To the place where they just caught you?" Sahat added. "And threw you in the dungeon to await a grisly execution."

"You saw what they did to that horse thief!" Imre exclaimed.

"Aye, I did. Who holds an execution outside a brothel?" Bromm muttered. They entered the jailor's office as Bromm continued. "Lost a whole hour of quality time from that sight. But that 'sides the point. Those men won't stay locked up forever. Someone will come looking for them. And once they find them, they'll turn this whole town upside down until they have all of us facing the headsman. Gods, they're likely to mark Pyet and Lukodo as associates and throw them up there, too! No, the only thing to do is flee the city, and to do that we need winds or horses. Any of you have five horses shoved up your ass?"

"Bromm's right," Sahat said after a grim silence. "We've little choice. We need to be ten miles out to sea by the time those guards are found, and the only way to assure that is to get the lamp."

He took the key from Tahavi and unlocked the jailor's chest. Bromm retrieved his things and dressed himself and his wound, using for the latter a scarf he took from the jailor's desk.

"I'm going back in," Bromm declared when he was finished. "I left an entry point, though I expected it to be an escape route. In any case, I will bring the lamp to Carella and unlocks its secrets, then meet you at the ship. Prepare it to cast off at first light, or possibly sooner."

"Alright," Sahat sighed, "but you cannot dawdle. If there's wind, we'll be off at dawn and not a moment later, so don't waste time."

"Don't worry, I won't get caught this time."

"So you say, but I think you owe a sacrifice to Apliss when we are safe and out of here."

"Aye, and an expensive one."

Doing his best to imitate the cats that he now found prowling the late-night streets, Bromm stole back to the palace and regained entry via the sea grate. The palace was almost silent now; there was no music or laughter on the night breeze and even the servants had gone to sleep. Yet there were still sentries atop the walls, though fortunately they did not spy Bromm as he made his way along the rocky shore and through the grate.

Once within the walls, Bromm retraced his steps to the pot where he had stashed the lamp. The walk was shorter than he had remembered. I was so close to escaping, he thought bitterly. If that dandy has not come out for a breath of fresh air or whatever he was looking for, I'd be out to sea by now.

He pulled clumps of soft earth from the pot until he felt his fingers brush cold metal. The silver gleamed in the moonlight as he pulled it from the earth. Bromm smiled in the darkness and clutched the lamp to his chest. It then went into his belt where he wrapped it in a scarf to better conceal it and guard it against flying out of his hands again.

His prize stowed away, he could not help but chuckle to himself. From the palace courtyard to the jail to the palace courtyard again, he thought with great mirth. The emir's guards can't keep me! Stifling a laugh, Bromm began making his way back toward the grate. He could not keep from pulling the lamp out again and admiring it. The engraving on it fascinated him, its long, flowing script spiralling around the whole lamp in a mesmerizing pattern. The lamp was cold to the touch, but Bromm sensed a deep and powerful energy coursing through its depths.

A sense of triumph overcame him suddenly, even though he was still behind the emir's walls. Bromm tossed the lamp into the air and caught it again, laughter rumbling in his belly. He threw it again, higher this time, and ran to catch it with a great leap. He sailed over a low hedge and snatched the lamp out of the air before skidding to a halt at the thick trunk of a tall palm tree. His sense of caution returning, he stowed the lamp away and looked up and down the brick walk for guards.

There was no one looking, not even from the many windowed windows and balconies that surrounded the courtyard he was in. The whole palace seemed fast asleep. Bromm cracked another giddy smile and hurried toward the sea grate. The night sky above him was cold and clear, littered with brightly shining stars.

Upon reaching the sea grate, his good mood faded for he saw it was propped open. Creeping closer, he could hear the sound of waves breaking on the rocks beyond the walls, but also the sounds of people. People fucking, to be specific. He crouched down on his knees and peered into the culvert.

Just beyond the wall, Bromm saw the same dandy who had spoiled his earlier intrusion laying on his back on a large boulder overlooking the sea. He was naked, with his clothes piled at the base of the boulder, along with those of the woman who was riding his cock. Bromm knew he should leave before he was spotted, but could not resist sneaking a look at her.

The woman was tall and willowy, with long black hair cascading over her shoulders and all the way to her slender waist. She wore heavy golden earrings and a silver chain in her hair. The hands that clutched at the man's chest were encrusted with jewelled rings that sparkled in the moonlight, and her dark nipples were pierced with golden rods. The dandy sat up and kissed her buxom breasts, taking the golden rods in his mouth and flicking them with his tongue. The woman moaned with pleasure and wound her fingers through his curly hair. Bromm could not stop staring at the voluptuous breasts that rose and fell with her every movement.

He felt his cock hardening in his trousers. Bromm grabbed a hold of himself and slowly retreating from the opening before he was spotted. He leaned back against the outer wall of the palace and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. The way out was blocked, at least for as long as it took the couple to finish, but he disliked the idea of spending more time within the walls in the hopes that they would move on soon. Gritting his teeth, Bromm turned away from the grate and prowled back into the palace grounds.

His earlier walk around in search of the lamp had given him an idea of the layout. He crossed to the side that bordered the city and examined the walls for a weak point. The sentries were still in their posts, though they looked somewhat drowsier than his first time crossing the wall. He spied two with bows in hand, however, and feared that if he simply jumped the wall and ran for it, he would sprout feathers before reaching the safety of the alleys on the far side. And they would surely send men to search for him.

Frowning, he crept along the edge of the courtyard until he reached the safety of another garden and leaned against a palm tree in deep thought. He had not thought that escaping the palace would prove more difficult than getting in.

Voices sounded suddenly, and not far away. He heard approaching footsteps and the distinctive clink of mail. Hurriedly he cast about for a place to hide, but the foliage here was thin and short. Some thought of his drew his attention skyward and he hit upon an idea.

With a sailor's hands, he scrambled up the trunk of the palm until he clung to it some fifteen feet from the ground. Down below, a trio of guards in armor were lazily making their way along the footpath toward the main courtyard. They stopped at the garden entrance and exchanged friendly jabs, pointing into the garden in a gesture that set Bromm's heart pounding. How could they know I am here? he wondered, but his panic was quickly soothed as the guards resumed their walk toward the courtyard without incident.

Bromm breathed a sigh of relief as he watched them go. With his arms and legs wrapped around the palm, he took a moment to thank the gods that he had not been caught a second time.

Yet he had not finished his prayer of thanks when he heard a whisper from behind him. Bromm started and nearly lost his grip on the tree. Slowly, he turned around and saw, on the balcony beside him, a young woman in a sheer silk dress. She was olive-skinned with the classical look of the Zahiri and a long, aquiline nose. Her long, dark hair fell to her waist in waves and her wide collar showed a broad silver necklace on her breast. Beneath her pale green silk, Bromm could make out the dark outlines of her nipples.

He swallowed hard, but the woman regarded him with curiosity, not fear. She leaned forward with her elbows on the balcony rail and pursed her lips.

"Who are you?" she whispered softly in a heavy Zahiri accent. Bromm did not quite know how to respond.

"I am Bromm, a sailor," he said at last. The woman smiled and rocked back and forth on her elbows.

"What's a sailor doing in a tree?" she asked. "Are you lost, Bromm?"

Bromm chuckled a bit. She had not started screaming for the guards, so he felt somewhat at ease despite the ridiculousness of being quite literally up a tree. "In a manner of speaking," he replied. "I'm looking for the gate."

"Well, perhaps I can help you with that," she said and extended a hand. "Come into my chambers, why don't you?"

Bromm needed no further encouragement. Steadying himself with her delicate hand, he reached out with his foot and planted it on her railing, then pushed off the tree to stand on the balcony rail. She raised her other hand and helped him hop down to the floor, though in truth he needed no help, but simply liked the touch of her hand.

"My name is Ysmat," she said as she put an arm around his waist. With her other hand, she brushed aside the sheer curtains in the doorway and ushered Bromm inside. He met her deep brown eyes and she smiled at him.

But once he was past the threshold, his eyes were torn away. For he now saw that he was in a luxurious salon befitting a king. At the center of the room was a ring of cushioned couches, their rich silks gleaming in the soft candlelight. An ornate hookah sat on the floor between the couches and seated beside it was another woman in sheer silks. She was tall and dark-skinned, accentuating the whites of her curious eyes as she looked up to Bromm with the hookah in her mouth. She sat back and exhaled with amusement, curls of white smoke drifting up past her shaven head toward the vaulted ceiling which was painted with scenes of a divine orgy.

Bromm looked about in amazement at the room, from the brass candelabra near the walls to the sleeping alcoves, each curtained with the same deep blue silk curtains fringed with gold that he had passed through to enter the room. The walls were polished marble and decorated with long flowing verses of the Zahiri script, interspersed with frescoes showing naked dancing women, bathers, and lovemaking.

"Who is this, Ysmat?" a sultry voice asked, and Bromm saw to his amazement that the speaker was not the dark-skinned woman in the center of the room, but another Zahiri woman who emerged from the darkness of a sleeping alcove. She was slender where her companion was full-bodied, with small, lively breasts and shoulder-length hair of dark brown. Unlike the others, this one was naked entirely, affording Bromm a clear view of her breasts and the trimmed hair between her legs. Her green eyes danced in the candlelight as she regarded Bromm with great interest.

"I found him climbing a tree outside," Ysmat answered, "I thought we could use some entertainment."

Bromm gulped as the dark-skinned girl stood up and he could see her naked body beneath the silk. She was tall and slender, with long, powerful legs and an imperious bearing. Setting the hookah down, she casually stepped over one of the low couches to approach Bromm.

"This is Amuna," Ysmat whispered, "one of his lordship's favorites. She was brought here from far away, beyond the Ivory Straits, by a slaver."

"Lordship?" Bromm repeated dumbly, entranced by Amuna's approach. The dark-skinned woman touched his chest and ran a hand down his side.

"Lordship," the third girl confirmed, stepping down from her bed. "We are the emir's harem girls, but he is old and spends so little time with us now."

"His slaves," Bromm murmured as Amuna ran her hands down his chest to his belt. But Ysmat shook her head.

"Amuna, yes. But Lira and I are wives. My father is a sheikh of the coastal hills, her father is wali of the desert fortresses. And then there is Arbanna."

On cue, the curtains swept aside in another alcove and a fourth woman stepped through. She was pale and slender, with round little breasts that shone white in the dim candlelight and perfectly circular pink nipples upon them. She wore her red hair in a short bob, and a golden chain about her neck. Except for her chain she was naked, and water droplets glistened on her white skin, for Bromm saw that the alcove she emerged from was a bathing chamber rather than a bed. She was shaven between her legs and her narrow green eyes regarded Bromm with a mischievous curiosity that he found exhilarating.

"Arbanna is from the far north, I do not know where. The slaver called it Wilderland, and the emir called it the Great Forest. She is his favorite, and his son's favorite as well."

Arbanna crossed the floor toward Bromm, dripping water across the tile as she did. Bromm stood still on the floor as the four women closed in about him, their hands searching insistently. He tried to muster up a response to them, but stopped as Amuna's hand touched the lamp.

"What's this?" she wondered aloud. Her hands pulled at his belt until they revealed the silver lamp. Candlelight danced across it as it was pulled into the open and Bromm stammered in protest.

"His lordship's lamp," Ysmat murmured.

"You are the thief they found earlier," Lira mused. She ran a hand through Bromm's hair, pressing her naked body against him and robbing him of speech.

"You escaped?" Ysmat asked, "and then came back for it?"

"You're very brave," Arbanna said. She met Bromm's eyes with her own and set her lips in a pout. He felt if he was about to come. All four of them wore powerful perfumes, and the assault on his nostrils was but one of the many overpowering sensations he felt at the time.

"Brave or stupid," Lira laughed softly. "If they find you, they will surely cut off your head."

"Aye," Bromm stammered, "Which is why I'm looking for the way out of here."

"I can show it to you," Ysmat offered, but then raised a hand to her dress' collar and slid it off. "But are you sure you want to leave so soon?"

"You just got here," Arbanna added, slipping a hand down Bromm's trousers to grab his cock. He was hard already and the touch of her soft hands nearly caused him to soak his pants. But Bromm clenched his muscles and steadied his breathing. His cock remained under control.

"And we're so bored and lonely," Amuna continued. "Won't you stay and entertain us for just a little while?"

Bromm struggled with a response. He was still all too aware that palace guards might come knocking at any moment, and if the punishment for stealing was harsh, he would hate to know the punishment for fucking the emir's wives. Yet all his life he had never been able to say no to a beautiful woman who was naked and willing, let alone four of them. Against his better judgment, he pulled his shirt over his head.

The women cooed and gasped at his chest. Amuna plucked at the bandage applied to the wound the jailor had dealt him. Ysmat ran her hand down his toned stomach and into his trousers to join Arbanna's.

"This looks fresh," Amuna whispered, her fingers gently exploring the wound beneath the bandage. Bromm winced in pain and pushed her hand away.

"Aye, that's courtesy of your master's jailor," Bromm replied.

"He's a wicked one," Lira replied. "He loves his prisoners like other men love women, for nothing excites him like inflicting pain and suffering."

"Put him out of your mind," Ysmat soothed. She took Bromm's chin in one hand and held him steady as she leaned in for a kiss. Bromm kissed back with great fervor, the heat of the five bodies inciting him to strip off the rest of his clothes and the women followed. They all stood naked in the center of the room, Ysmat and Arbanna stroking his cock while Amuna kissed his chest and Lira nibbled at his neck.

"Your sailor is already hard," Arbanna whispered to Ysmat and both women smiled. "But it seems a shame to leave such a nice cock unkissed." She bent down and swallowed Bromm's cock between her soft, pink lips. Ysmat knelt beside her and together the women sucked his cock. Bromm leaned his head back in ecstasy, his hands grabbing delicious handfuls of Amuna and Lira's womanly flesh. He stared up to the ceiling, where directly above him was painted an image of a Zahiri emir reclining on a couch and attended by a dozen naked women of all colors and origins. Bromm smiled.

He looked down to his cock, hidden within Arbanna's mouth as she sucked. Presently, she withdrew it and held it forward for Ysmat, who promptly swallowed it to its base, her tongue darting forth to caress Bromm's balls. He moaned in pleasure, and Lira pulled his head around to kiss him from behind. He felt her naked body press against his, her soft little breasts pushing against his bare back.

Amuna knelt to share in sucking his cock, and Lira smiled as she took sole dominion of his mouth. Three deft tongues worked on his cock and another in his mouth and it was all Bromm could do to keep from coming right there. Ysmat stroked his cock with both hands, holding it forth for the other two girls in succession, then taking it in her own mouth once again.

"You are too good at that," Bromm gasped, "I fear I'm about to come."

"That won't do," she replied, "We're just getting started with you. Come, girls." She rose and lifted Arbanna to her feet and then did the same with Amuna. "To the bed," she commanded and all three of them obeyed. Lira remained behind Bromm, her arms wrapped around his waist as she pressed herself against him. Ysmat knelt on all fours at the edge of a bed and Arbanna and Amuna did the same on either side of her, all three presenting their wet, pink purses to Bromm. His hard cock throbbing in front of him, he took it in both hands and slowly stroked it in preparation for entry.

Lira pushed him forward gently, closely matching his own steps with hers to stay pressed together.

"Which one will you take first?" Ysmat teased, shaking her hips back and forth slowly. Arbanna looked back over her shoulder and blew a kiss at Bromm.

Bromm weighed the decision in his mind. He found himself most desiring the pale, redheaded Arbanna, but felt he should savor her and take her last. On the other hand, he would never forgive himself if he accidentally finished before he could enjoy her delightful body.

The women grew impatient as he deliberated, and at last he decided that the gods favored those who gambled. He stepped forward to Ysmat and thrust his cock deep into her wet and welcoming sex. She moaned with delight and intertwined her fingers with Amuna's, staring deep into the other woman's eyes as Bromm fucked her from behind. He grabbed her by the waist, thrusting deep into her as Lira groped at him from behind. She nibbled at his neck still, softly kissing him from his ear to his collarbone and timing the movement of her hips with her own.