Tunisian Dreams Ch. 05

The Bey and his entourage rode up to the arena. She saw the eunuchs point him towards where she was sitting. He climbed up towards her.

"Majestic is it not? To imagine this is more than 1000 years old." His eyes smiled.

"It is beautiful. I was imagining how it would have been in those days. Are we to depart?"

When he nodded she rose up ready to follow him down. However all of a sudden she felt her stomach leap up and a sudden dizziness darken her view. The last thing she noticed was how her lord and master caught her in his strong arms.

She came to in the shade of the hallways of the old building. Her eunuchs and the Bey bending over her.

"Stay still my Sweet. One of the soldiers is getting you a doctor."

A soldier came running, an old black man in his wake.

"Lord this man is the doctor of the local women. He is a cut man."

The Bey waved the eunuch towards them. The old man bowed and asked her what had happened. She explained she had a sunstroke and probably ate something wrong. With all the soldiers out of view and only the Bey and the eunuchs who were protecting her still present the man examined her.

Then he bowed to the Bey and said: "Yes my lord your lady has trouble dealing with the hot summer temperatures of our country. She should stay out of the sun like on a covered camel. You might consider sending her home though before her pregnancy will start to hinder your journey."

"What?" thought Sara.

"Doctor what are you telling the Bey? I cannot be pregnant. I nursed a son until recently and that disturbed my monthly flows for the last two moons."

The man ignored her and continued to the Bey. "Your slave is around three months pregnant and that gives her nausea. It will pass in a month or so but you might consider sending her to one of your palaces so she will not lose the baby riding a horse all day in this heath." He bowed to the Bey and left them alone.

"Sara you are with child. Even when we left home. I must have impregnated you that night I came home again after my wife's mourning period."

She laid back down and closed her eyes trying to still the whirlwind in her head. A child. Her own child. One born from this foreign infidel who owned her. But who seemed to care for her as well even with all his other women and children.

---***---

Sara was sitting on a cushion at the feet of the Bey. Totally covered in fabric however there was no concealing how heavily pregnant she was. In front of them five European men prostrated themselves before the Bey.

He bowed down towards her and said: "Sara that fat man is the emissary of the Dutch Republic. He comes to negotiate. Please translate all he says."

She looked at the man who resembled a pink pig in his velvet and wool cloths that were so unsuitable for the hot weather. His eyes were cold upon her. She imagined him wondering why in a culture of men and women kept separated he was now looking at one of the playthings of the local ruler.

The man started a speech in very flowery language and Sara translated it word for word. That made him turn sharply towards her.

"Keep your eyes off my woman and concentrate on your message or you can leave at once," said the Bey.

One of the other Dutch men translated that to his boss, she noticed.

The talk went on and on and it became clear to her they were here to negotiate save passage for their ships so the corsairs would not raid them anymore like the had done Sara's. And the release of the slaves who originated from Holland. He wanted to pay for the ships officers captured and for crew if they were still to be traced.

"Please ask him about the women," Sara implored the Bey. For a moment his dark gaze rested on her veiled face.

"And how much are you willing to pay for female prisoners? The passengers on some of the ships," asked the Bey.

"They best stay here," the emissary said. "No one wants to pay for a soiled girl."

Sara wished she could claw his eyes out.

"Your offer will be all of nothing Van Heesteren. You pay 200 guilders for every Dutch slave we have here. Either captain, cabin boy or old woman. Think about it. You will have to compensate their owners handsomely. As for me I have one of your girls. She can do things to a man's cock as the bests of harlots. I might consider to keep her after all. We will prepare you a list of all Dutch slaves and their owners."

"Leila," thought Sara. "He is talking of Leila. Leila will never want to go back to a life of the bastard of a whore and being a lowly servant all her life."

Van Heesteren was turning purple with rage but realised he best keep his head on his shoulders and crawled backwards to the entrance of the big meeting hall. Sara ran as best as she could after the retreating back of the Bey.

The moment they had entered the harem of the palace in Tunis Ali turned round and said: "Do you want me to set you free Sara?"

"I would very much like to be free my Lord but what I understand is that no free woman can be a concubine. And I do not want to be separated from you."

He buried her against his chest and said: "So you rather stay with me as a slave?"

"Yes Lord."

She felt him kiss the crown of her head. "I will set you free my sweet and then I will marry you. You can be free and with me."

She started to cry and bawled all over his crisp robe.

"Why those tears? Why are you sad? Do you not want to be my honoured wife?".

She looked up with teary eyes and said: "I never want to leave you. I am crying from joy."

He laughed and said: "Good!" And then kissed her.

---***---

Months later Sara was looking down at the two bundles in her arms. Her husband smiled down at her.

"You do know my Sweet wife that you look so lovely with our son and our daughter in your arms? Have you thought about names?"

She looked at her son. He did look like his father. But his hair was more brown then the deep black of the Bey's. Their daughter was a surprise however. Bright red curls covered her head and her skin was as pale as Sara's. She had been a big surprise announcing herself after her brother was born.

"I would like to call him Selim. Your second wife told me her father, the Sultan's, name was Selim and I liked it as it resembles the word in my language for 'clever'. Our daughter however looks exactly like my sister Maartje or Mary as my dad used to call her in his own language. I would like to name this baby after her."

"Martjeh, Meeri" he smiled. "We have to change that into a good Arabic name. "What about Maryam?"

"I like that", she said.

Fatma entered the room and bowed to the Bey. "You best rest Mistress Sara. I will take care of them while you sleep"

"Yes my Sweet you should regain your strength. I was told it was a heavy delivery. Are you in pain?"

"Please stay with me a bit more my husband. Just sit here while I sleep."

He sat down on the bed next to her. Stoking her still wet hair. She realised how beautiful he was. How warm his smile, how welcome his touch.

"I love you," she blurted out.

His smile became wider. "Good because I have been in love with your from the moment you were sitting in my bed naked talking to Ghost my cat. All I could do was hope one day you would speak so lovingly to me.

She grinned. "Imagine the lord of the realm feeling jealous." They both laughed aloud. He bent down and kissed her. Her nose , her forehead, her lips, the pulse point in her neck. She rummaged his black curls. But she felt her eyes getting heavy.

"I am sorry my husband but I am so tired."

"You go and sleep my Sweet and I will be here watching you."

Her eyes closed. She felt his warm hand holding hers. She turned on her side in her favourite sleeping position but pain shot through her body. It defiantly had been hard work to push two babies out via a little whole that normally was stretched to it's limits by her husband's rod. That thought made her smile. Just a few weeks and then she would make sure he did not get any sleep all night.

Again she tried to get comfortable. A sharp pain in her leg made her wince. Why did having given birth make her feel like she had fallen of a horse?

---888---

She opened her eyes to tell her husband. He was talking to her. One of her hands in his, the other stroking it. Why did he speak English?

She looked up and glanced in a face familiar but strange. Who was this man? Suddenly she realised voices speaking Dutch were approaching. A lady dressed in a white suit walked in and said: "Good, at last you are awake Maartje. We started to worry."

Maartje noticed the hospital bed. the nurse, the beeping of machines. Her leg covered in plaster.

She was in a hospital. What happened to her? Had she been dreaming? Who was this man sitting at her bedside who made her think of the Bey?

(timetravel or dream? to be continued)