Isabella Awakening Ch. 06

Thomas considered the information and Isabella was silent, concerned but not understanding this conversation all.

Thomas spoke softly, "Bishan, your promise to me must be taken in context. Natalia was living with the Vizier in Beja, is that not true?"

"Yes," said the Bey, "in Beja."

"Where is she now?" Thomas asked.

"Here, in the infirmary," the Bey responded. "She is still weak. Gabrielle spent two days with her, day and night, when she first came in. I thought she ... would die."

"May I talk with her?" asked Thomas.

"Of course, my friend. I have told her that you are here and she wants to see you tonight."

"And, what are your plans?" asked Thomas, kindly but clearly probing.

"I am to leave for Beja tomorrow; to confront the Vizier and decide what to do. You being here does not relieve me of my responsibilities, Thomas, but I would be glad of your counsel."

"We will go together," said Thomas, with a note of finality. "Take me to Natalie and we will talk further of the appropriate course," Thomas rose and put out his hand to the Bey who took it and allowed himself to be helped to his feet. Thomas hugged him and said quietly, "Events such as these will happen in the best of houses, my friend. The test of true wisdom and courage is in our response."

Thomas turned to Isabella. "I am sorry, my dear, but my duty dictates that I must leave you for a short while. These are matters to which I must attend immediately. I am sure the Bey has arranged for your comfort and I will see you in perhaps an hour."

Isabella stood, "I understand, Thomas. You must go now and see to this woman." Isabella was again left with questions, but Thomas had promised a full explanation and this only added to the many matters she would probe him on later.

Thomas turned again to the Bey, "Bishan, I'm afraid the speed and circumstances of our departure from our ship means that Isabella has no appropriate clothing for this climate. Can you extend your already considerable hospitality any further?"

The Bey hit Thomas playfully on the chest and called "Attara!" A middle-aged Arab woman was immediately at his side bowing low. He spoke to her in the Arab language, which Isabella was starting to find quite melodic, and the woman turned to Isabella and bowed. "Attara here will tend to your needs, Signora. She speaks only the local tongue, I'm afraid, but you have any difficulty communicating with her, I'm sure that the Magus, I mean Thomas, will assist."

Isabella thanked the Bey for his kindness and Attara motioned her to the curtained alcove. Thomas nodded and smiled to her and said he would see her soon.

Attara took Isabella's satchel from her and guided her back to the main entrance hall and across it to a wide stairway leading to the second floor. Along a corridor, long and wide enough for a two horse race, reflected Isabella, they entered a salon containing a huge bed, several couches, a table and huge glass doors leading to a narrow terrace. Attara bowed to Isabella again and drew her attention to a side door that lead to a tiled room containing a tub, a washstand and a heavy lidded box in one corner. Isabella assumed that the box was some sort of privy. Attara demonstrated the use of a stopcock on the wall. Turning it to the right caused warm water to tumble into the tub from a pipe projecting from the wall above it. Isabella had never seen such plumbing before, at least not on the second floor of a building, and she thanked Attara for her demonstration. Back in the main room of what Isabella was already thinking of as an apartment, Attara indicated the table where a large bouquet of exotic flowers and a platter of food and wine had been placed. Isabella did not recognize the small pastry parcels and vegetables arranged in circles on the plate, but the smell was delicious and she realized that it was now many hours since she had eaten. There was knock at the main door and Attara called something and it opened. A young woman, head bowed and dressed from head to toe in a pale blue robe, entered carrying a bundle of clothes over both arms. Attara indicated the bed and the girl laid out several skirts, silk and cotton robes, blouses and long colorful pantaloons like those worn by Gabrielle and Ashanti when Isabella had seen them earlier. Isabella smiled and bowed to the girl who did likewise and left. Attara started to follow her to the door, turned and said, in barely comprehensible Italian, "You call me here", pointing to a cord hanging beside the bed. She moved her hand in a quick up and down motion, indicating that Isabella was to pull the cord.

Isabella nodded, mimicking her hand motion, bowed and said "Thank you, Attara" and the woman left.

Left alone, Isabella suddenly felt the weight of the day. She sat on the bed and her mind immediately started working through the events and new information she was yet to fully process. She halted herself and decided that now was not the time. She needed to eat, bathe and rest. Any analysis could wait. Hopefully she would see Thomas again before the night was over.

The first thing she did was stand and hitch up her robe, untying and removing the pantaloons that held her precious objects. She opened the pockets one by one and placed their contents in the drawer of a dresser standing against the wall, the Horn of Keira wrapped in its chamois pouch she placed far to the back. Isabella, the physical and emotional weight of her escape now partly lifted, then allowed herself a sample from the platter. The meat pastries and vegetables were indeed delicious. Spicy and warm, they were just what she needed. A small glass of wine washed down a second serving and she was already starting to feel more relaxed. She decided to wash and removed her robe, shirt and tights and entered the bathroom. By turning the stopcock, she ran water into the tub and examined the shelf of bottles and jars, finding them all fragrant and enticing. She poured a measure of oil from one bottle directly into the tub and filled her nostrils with the scents of jasmine and rose. As the tub filled, Isabella slid into the warm water, the feelings and scents taking her back to her afternoon of intimacy and passion with Beatrice in Palermo. She admired her naked body, still completely hairless, and rubbed the oily water over her shoulders and neck as the bath filled.

She lay back, closed her eyes and enjoyed the feelings of her limbs and body releasing their tensions. For fifteen minutes she let herself drift and would have stayed just like that and slept except she realized that she was actually floating to music, flute and lyre in harmonic conversation, which was drifting from somewhere outside her balcony window. The rise and fall of the melody enticed her and she soon stood and reached for a towel.

She found a dark green silk robe on the bed, wrapped it around her body, took her hairbrush from the dresser drawer and opened the wide doors to the balcony. A cool breeze greeted her and she could smell the sea. But the sight that confronted Isabella was not one she would have suspected. Below her was a park-like plaza enclosed by the four wings of the palace. It was lit with flares and torches and was criss-crossed with intersecting paths, low hedges and runnels leading to a simple central fountain. Between the trees, which appeared to be mostly laden citrus, she could make out garden beds, more fountains and benches or seats. On the three sides she could see, a continuous arched colonnade fronted a broad portico. It was a beautiful sight.

Directly across this plaza from Isabella's balcony stood a two-storey wing that was the source of the music. Light came across its broad portico from behind lattice-encased windows on the lower floor and Isabella could make out the forms of people dancing behind the lattice. She could hear women's voices and laughter. No one stirred in the garden below and she could make out no one on the portico. All the activity seemed to be inside. Then two large shapes emerged from the shadows beside the central doorway to the far building. Isabella could not make out their faces, but she knew they were men, guards or servants, because they opened the heavy doors. Another figure emerged into the Portico, a woman dressed in a sheer, almost weightless and invisible gown that flowed behind her in the breeze as she walked along the Portico and seated herself on a bench. Isabella thought she resembled Gabrielle, the woman who had treated Thomas's arm earlier, but she could not she her face clearly at this distance and in this light.

Isabella stood on the balcony for several minutes, combing her hair while taking in the atmosphere and forming her first impressions of the Bey's compound. It was like nothing she'd seen or heard about before. The quiet opulence and sensuality of her surroundings was a revelation. Isabella had always believed that Europe was the heart of the world and that other cultures and places were uncivilized and dangerous or brutal and tawdry imitations of Europe. But here she felt a deep sense of solidity, of refinement and grace that she had rarely felt outside of the most ancient and venerated of Naples great buildings. As she was trying to put words to her feelings there was quiet knock on the door to her room. She left the balcony, straightened and tied her robe loosely, and opened the door.

It was Thomas, a smile on his lips but pain in his eyes. Isabella pulled him into the room and kissed him. He melted into her and she felt at least some of his tension slip away.

"I am sorry Isabella, it was entirely necessary for me ..." Isabella halted him with another kiss. They stayed like that, responding to each other's passion for several minutes. Isabella finally broke the kiss.

"You must eat, Thomas," she said, leading him by the hand to the table and making him sit. "And tell me, is your friend, Natalia, recovering?"

"Slowly, I'm afraid. Her wounds were ... extensive," he said, between mouthfuls of pastries. "Gabrielle has done well with the treatment of her lesions and burns, but her ... spirit has been greatly harmed." Thomas poured them both a glass of wine.

"And you must travel with the Bey tomorrow to conduct some sort of inquiry into her abuse?" asked Isabella.

"Yes, we will leave before evening and ride through the night to Beja. We will not stay long; there is little point in an extended ... investigation. We will do what we have to and return directly." Thomas's tone was ominous and Isabella had the distinct impression that the point of Thomas's journey was neither inquiry nor investigation. She touched his hand and changed the subject.

"Thomas, you look exhausted. Perhaps we should leave our ... discussion until the morning," she said, although she had long ago determined that her other desires outweighed her need for information or explanation tonight.

"Isabella, I too need to ... discuss and explain what has happened, is happening, but your are right; my body and head ache from today's exertions and I am unlikely to be a good ... company for you tonight." Isabella smiled at Thomas's clumsy attempt to avoid speaking what was on both their minds.

She moved behind his chair and whispered, "Lean your head back, close your eyes and I will try to relieve your discomfort." He did so and Isabella took his head in her hands, placing one palm flat against his forehead and supporting the base of his skull with three fingers of her other hand. As she gently rotated his neck she found the soft indentation that housed the joining of his spine and skull. Her fingers slowly increased their pressure, seeking the subtle bodies that she knew held the key to the relief of the pressure he was feeling inside his head. She pressed and then released the tiny points three times before leaning his head forward and executing a similar move on the vertebrae of his neck. Finally she moved her hands to his temples and put gentle rotating pressure on the soft tissue and the ridge of his cheekbone. The whole procedure took only a few minutes.

"Tell me how that feels now," she whispered.

Thomas opened his eyes and moved his head slowly from side to side. "That is truly remarkable, Isabella. The pressure behind my eyes is gone and I can move my neck freely. Where did you learn how to do that?"

"Ah, now you begin to understand that I too have my secrets," she teased.

Thomas smiled and pulled her onto his lap. Isabella's robe, loosely tied as it was, opened and her breasts were exposed to his eyes. She left her robe as it fell and kissed him, even more passionately than before. As a hand found her bare tummy and moved across her lower ribs towards her breast, she pushed herself upright and stood before him.

"Your treatment has not finished, Father" she smiled, covering herself again. "Please take off your clothes and lie on the bed."

Isabella walked to the bed and removed the clothing still laying there. She placed the pile over a chair, pulled back the covers and turned down the wick on the oil lamp on the bedside table. Thomas stood beside her.

"Take off your clothes and lie down. I'll be back directly."

She kissed him on the cheek and walked to the bathroom. Finding a bottle of sweet scented oil on the shelf, she removed her silk gown and caught her own reflection in the mirror. "Hello, old friend," she smiled. "I was worried you were going to leave this one to me."

She re-entered the room naked and carrying the colored glass bottle of oil. Thomas sat on the edge of the bed watching her intently. She said nothing as she placed the oil beside the bed and stood before him in the flickering light of the lamp. His eyes took her in and he bent his head to her breast, gently kissing the area around the nipple while his hands traced the curve of her hip.

"Lie down," she whispered. "Let me rub your back."

Thomas obeyed, swinging his legs onto the bed and rolling over to lie face down in the center of the bed. Isabella noticed that his cock was half hard already and that he was careful to ensure that it lay against his stomach as he turned over.

She climbed onto the bed, kneeling beside his torso and pouring oil from the bottle into the palm of one hand. She slowly wiped it onto his shoulders and down his back, refilling her palm when she came to his buttocks and moving up again. With gentle pressure she started to smooth the oil into his skin with both hands, kneading the muscles around his neck and down his spine. Thomas groaned his pleasure at her skillful massage. As she felt his muscles soften to her touch, she straddled his lower back and began a more vigorous massage, running her hand harder over sinew and skin and gripping the muscles beneath. She moved lower, sitting now on his thighs as she brought her weight to bear on either side of his lower spine. Her fingers drove deep into the yielding flesh and Thomas moaned again. Her touch lightened as she rubbed the large muscles of his buttocks and upper thighs. She rose and placed one knee between his thighs, levering his legs open. Taking the oil bottle again she poured a thin stream of oil onto his lower back so that it ran down the valley of his ass. She giggled as he squirmed and then she allowed a finger to follow the oil on its dark path over his tight anus and down to the soft skin behind his balls. She felt the heat rising from him, removed her hand and stretched herself forward so that she was lying on his back. She put her mouth to his ear and whispered, "Tell me where it hurts, Thomas. I want to take away your pain."

Thomas opened his eyes and smiled. "You have erased all my pain already Isabella. Your hands have revived me and made me whole."

"Good," said Isabella firmly and with a serious tone in her voice. She pushed herself up quickly and sat cross-legged on the bed next to him. "So now you can tell me what is going on. Let's start with the pirates, shall we?"

Thomas sputtered and rolled over, with a look of surprise and concern on his face. Isabella could not keep her composure for another moment and burst out laughing. Thomas caught the infection and he too laughed, but not before grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her down on top of him.

They kissed, long and passionately, Thomas's hands following a path between her neck and ass. Isabella could feel his hardness on her thigh and she moved her own hand to it. She smiled at Thomas and whispered, "Oh, Father, I believe I may have missed a tense muscle. Would you like me to massage it for you?"

"I have a better idea," he grinned, rolling her onto the bed so that they faced each other. He used his own leg to raise her thigh and moved a hand over her tummy to her wetness. Isabella sighed and closed her eyes as he slipped a finger into her. Then he used two fingers to gently part her inner lips and moved his cock to her opening, placing the engorged head just inside her and removing his hand. Isabella lowered her thigh to rest on his hip and used her leg to draw him closer and completely into her. They lay like that, joined and quiet, for several minutes as they kissed and caressed each other. Despite their passion, there was now no urgency at all.

They made love that night as if they had always known each other. Thomas responded instinctively to her unspoken needs and she to his. They gave and received in equal measure and explored each other's bodies and erotic souls without restraint. No permissions were sought and none were needed. It was a wordless dance of two becoming one. When Isabella came, as she did many times that night, he held her tightly, coaxing her higher with his mouth, hands and cock. His wonderful cock. Several times, Isabella prepared herself to receive his seed as she felt Thomas tense and shudder, his cock swelling and pulsing. But he did not come and returned to her to ply her again and again. Despite their exhaustion, they made love; they fucked like animals and angels and took each other with mouth and hand for well over an hour before Thomas, holding her head in his hands and looking deep into her timeless soul, forced her legs wide with his own thighs and took her with such energy and passion that he came deeply in her womb. Isabella felt his warm semen filling her and she joined him in rapture.

They lay together, stroking each other and kissing softly until Thomas's deflating cock slipped out of Isabella's still pulsing sex. She lay still, letting a trail of his semen ooze out of her. Thomas rolled to his side; his body still melded to hers, and continued his caresses. Isabella's hand found his cock and held it like a precious ornament.

That is how they slept. Deeply, and in each other arms.