The Circassian (closed)

[a_libertine]

"It does not matter if you think I am in the right frame of mind or not. My decisions are mine, and they are final while we are on the road. Even in France, I only allow two people to consistently second guess me, the Marquis, and His Majesty."

Marcel looked down at his leg and winced as he put it on the floor to change the position. Marcel continued tapping his heel up and down to keep it moving, but minimizing the pain. "Now tomorrow, if you behave yourself, I will do as I had planned today, and join you in your wagon after we are on the road."

He looked at her brightening face and said, "But first, have two baths drawn for me, one very, very hot, the other as cold as possible. The cold one only needs to be deep enough to cover my legs."

 

[haremfaery]

If she behaved herself? What did that mean? Katirah thought about that and the mention of the marquis and the king. The Comte had said before she needed to learn her place. Hierarchy seemed important to him. That must be why he wanted her to know her place. He liked everything and everyone in perfect order. She was trying to do as he asked and not question, but his health was important to her. Couldn't he see that?

Katirah smiled brightly at the Comte. "As the Comte wishes. Would the Comte like Samara to join us, or shall I tell her to stay in another wagon?" She walked to her clothing and picked up her pantaloons. She would dress so she could tell servant to bring the baths.

 

[a_libertine]

Marcel considered it a moment and then shook his head no. "Tonight, no. Perhaps another night, or another woman some night, for some variety." A wicked grin split his face as Katriah's head jerked up toward him.

"And not until I am healthy."

She finished dressing and started toward the tent opening, "Hurry, so we can eat."

 

[haremfaery]

Katirah looked at the Comte in surprise. She composed her face. "I did not speak properly, I meant tomorrow. When the Comte is in my wagon."

"I will return as soon as possible, Sir." Katirah before leaving the tent. As she walked she thought about what the Comte had said. Did he think she was looking forward to being with Samara and him again? That was not why she asked. But she would do it again. She and Samara were friends. It was not so difficult to be with Samara and the Comte at the same time. But to bring another woman into their bed...A woman she did not know. What if she did not like her? What if the Comte already had his eye on another woman? She could not think that. The Comte was trying to find a way to keep her once they returned to France. he could not have found another woman. There were no other women in the caravan as beautiful as she, nor as accomplished. There was no woman in the caravan who could keep a man's interest like Katirah.

She reached the servants. "The Comte wishes a bath. Two, actually. The first, as hot as possible. Then a little later, bring another, as cold as you can manage. Thank you."

She hurried back to the Comte's tent. "It is as the Comte asked. The hot bath will be here as soon as the water is properly heated." She took her clothing off and piled it in a corner. She checked the brazier and added a few more coals. She pulled a hassock to the table and sat next to the Comte.

 

[a_libertine]

It was her side, Marcel decided in a rush. The most provocative part of Katirah was her sides. The fluid lines when she stood still, the coiled power as she moved, and the sensuous promise when she danced. Even sitting still, the way her muscles moved and flexed with each breath was captivating.

Though had not asked it, he was happy she chose to show her devotion to him via her naked form.

Her whole body a wonder to his eyes. Even more wondrous was the fact she was his in a way that she never belong to anyone before, or ever again.

The food was delightful as usual then a stray thought came across his mind, "How are you paying for this food everyday?"

 

[haremfaery]

Katirah felt the Comte's eyes on her. Her nudity in front of him did not embarrass her, but the way he looked at her brought a blush to her cheeks. She smiled at him coyly.

She was happy to see he had an appetite despite his pain. It was a good sign, she thought.

"I negotiated with the merchant's wife to provide meals for the Comte since the soldiers' food was not to the Comte's liking. I assume the Merchant sees the Purser for payment or I am sure I would hear of it." She looked at the Comte. Had she been wrong to do this? How else could she provide meals more to the Comte's liking? It seemed so long ago now that she had done this. Hadn't she spoken to the effendi Henri about it, in case he should like special meals as well?

 

[a_libertine]

Marcel nodded, "Okay, that is fine, I am sure they are overcharging for it anyway."

He looked at the bite that was rising toward his mouth and paused. "Starting tomorrow though, have her take a bite of each part of the meal in front of you."

He saw her glance and responded, "One can never be too careful."

The food was as always excellent. The spices of each dish blending together seemingly building on each other, and as they finished the meal his mouth was virtually on fire, and slowly cooling off.

"Then again, perhaps I should hire her as a chef of mine for a while, she could learn something from mine, and he from her."

 

[haremfaery]

"I think Samara knows something of bartering." Katirah said with a smile that quickly turned to a frown. "The Comte thinks someone would poison him? Someone we travel with? Why?" Katirah could not think that the Comte would have enemies here? Where could he have made them?

"I will do as the Comte asks, but usually the Merchant's wife takes the food for the Comte's tajine from the same pot her own family eats from." She sat up straighter, "Who would want to see the Comte dead?"

Katirah saw the flush in the Comte's face and hoped it was from the food and not a fever. But he did look better tonight, she thought.

"If the Comte wishes, I will speak the Merchant's wife about working with his chef." She stood to clear the dishes away just as slaves arrived with steaming water for the first bath.

"May I help the Comte prepare for his bath, or is the strength of a male slave needed?" She knelt to remove the Comte's boots.

 

[a_libertine]

Marcel lifted his left foot first, straining to hold it in the air as Katirah levered the boot off of him. "Why would I want male slaves? I have you to tend to my needs."

He remained seated as she help remove his tunic. Once that was off he stood gingerly allowing her to take his pants off and then hobbled to the heated water.

He was unsteady as he lift his right foot to step into the tub and he reached out for Katirah, his knuckles turning white as he clutched at her. Pain throbbed through his left leg and into his body as he teetered precariously a moment before easing himself into the water.

Closing his eyes, he leaned back and said, "Bring me some Absinth before washing me, please."

 

[haremfaery]

"Because, Sir, a male slave is stronger and might not hurt the Comte so much." Katirah said, wincing a little both in sympathy and at the Comte's grip on her as he lowered himself into the tub.

Katirah hurried to fetch the absinthe. She poured a large portion into a mug and handed it to the Comte.

The bandages should be easier to remove once they were soaked in the water. All showed signs of dried blood. Katirah wondered if she would have to call for the chirugeon again. She thought she would be capable of binding them again, but if they required more attention, she did not have the knowledge.

She knelt by the Comte and kissed his shoulder gently before taking up a cloth to wash him. "You must tell me if I am not gentle enough, my Comte."

She squeezed the cloth so the water ran down his chest. She had memorized all of his old scars and it pained her to know she had so many new ones to learn. She began humming absently to herself as she worked.

 

[a_libertine]

Marcel sighed as the heat from the water seeped into his muscles, loosening them up. He felt Katirah's hands washing him gently, tentatively, as if she were a babe no older than five or six.

Opening one eye, he looked at her and said, You won't break me, Katirah, that has been done, physically at least, already."

 

[haremfaery]

"I do not wish to add to the Comte's pain." Katirah used the cloth a little harder, at least at spots further from his wounds.

She stood and picked up the Comte's dagger. "I need to cut the bandages away. May I?"

She carefully removed the bandaged revealing the wounds on the Comte's shoulder and thigh. They still looked angry to Katirah, but not as bad as when he first received them. They were not festering, that was a good sign. Just as she was finishing slaves arrived with the second tub. The men carrying it stole glances at Katirah.

"Place it very close so the Comte may step from one to the other." She thought that would make it easier for him. She stood and threw the bloodstained bandages in a pile to be discarded later.

She went back to the Comte to help him into the cold tub. She hoped it would numb his pain.

Once the Comte was settled, she poured him more absinthe. "What more may I do for my Comte? Should I fetch the chirugeon to check your wounds?"

The slaves took the tub with hot water away with them.

 

[a_libertine]

Marcel shook his head at Katirah's question about the old geezer. "You are more than capable of handling anything that needs to be done at this point," he said eyes closed.

The pleasure of her touch suffused his body, acting in concert with the absinth to alleviate some of the pain. His arm and leg now hurt almost equally, and Marcel wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.

He relished her touch as she spread an ointment across the gash in his shoulder and then bandaged it loosely.

Marcel sat in the cold water until he began to feel chilled. His ankles hurting slightly from the cold that seemingly locked them in place as he stood in the tub.

Stepping out of the tub carefully, he felt Katirah wrap a towel around him. "Thank you," he whispered as she began patting him dry.

 

[haremfaery]

"There is no need for thanks."

Katirah was careful to be gentle and to keep her touch from being construed as erotic at all. She did not think the Comte needed nor wanted any sexual contact. She was sure it would hurt too much and only be more frustrating for him.

"Is the pain less now? Come to the furs and I will bind the Comte's leg." She said after drying him. She put an arm around him and they walked together. "Perhaps I should have a bed brought in..." She suggested.

She helped him down into the furs wincing when he did. "I am sorry. I am sorry." She said each time he grimaced with pain until he was comfortable again. She put the ointment on his wounds and bound his leg.

"There. What more may I do for the Comte to help him sleep?" She cleaned her hands and put the unused bandages away. "More absinthe? Shall I rub the Comte's feet?" She was fussing over him again now that there was nothing specific for her to do.

 

[a_libertine]

Marcel quaffed the absinthe in one full gulp and settled into the furs. The pain of his injuries overwhelming the normally sensuous feel of the fur against his skin.

He could feel Katirah flitting about his body busily, acting as if she moved frequently enough that she would be able to cure him of his injuries. His patience wearing thin Marcel grabbed her hands up in his and placed them palm down on his right thigh.

"Sing for me, Katirah, sing for me," he whispered hazily through the alcoholic haze forming in his brain and more importantly, body.

He listened to her, concentrating as much as he could until dozing off to sleep.

 

[haremfaery]

Katirah realized she was adding to the Comte's annoyances when he grabbed her hands to still her. He asked her to sing and she obliged readily. She sang a quiet love song with a soothing melody. Not too mournful, not too happy. Something to help the Comte relax and sleep. She was happy he would join her in her wagon the next day.

After the Comte was asleep, she tidied the tent and put the absinthe and wine where it could be easily reached. She stoked the brazier and then crawled under the furs with the Comte snuggling against his good side.

He woke her a few times in the night. The pain when he shifted in his sleep making him twitch and grunt. Katirah did her best to soothe him back to sleep, singing sometimes, or stoking his face.

She awoke before the Comte and dressed before going to get his breakfast. Since he had not liked the couscous with goat's milk, so brought him eggs mixed with some nuts and cinnamon and a few pieces of chicken. She hoped he would like it.

 

[a_libertine]

He wasn't sure, but Marcel felt more tired in the morning than he had the night before. Pain shot in sharp rays from his arm, meeting the duller, no less painful, ache of his thigh. Vaguely aware that he was alone in the tent, Marcel raised himself up onto his right elbow, the furs sliding down his chest to pool onto his lap.

Looking across his chest and arms, Marcel smiled, wondering how he had yet again cheated death in battle. The memory of the giant kicking at him while he was on the ground came to mind again, and the pain over wrote his wonder.

Levering himself up into a fully upright, albeit sitting position, Marcel began the laborious task of getting onto his feet.

Sweat was pouring down his face and arms as Katirah walked into the ten carrying their breakfast. Marcel had finally worked his way to the table and into the chair and was panting with the exertion of moving across the tent. Still naked his body glistened and gleamed with beads of sweat.

"Good morning," he croaked out as she stripped.

The smell of the food watered his mouth and he sat straight as she came over bringing the food. "After we eat, I will need your assistance in dressing."

 

[haremfaery]

Katirah clucked at the Comte. "I am guessing the Comte did not call his guard to help him to his chair. The Comte should have waited for me to help." She took a cloth and wiped the sweat from his face and neck.

She put a large cloth across his lap then went to pour wine. Katirah paused. "Would the Comte prefer the absinthe?"

She smiled at him from across the room. "I shall be happy to help the Comte dress." She would be very happy to get him into her wagon where she could make him comfortable. They could talk, or play chess or cards. She could sing to him. She did not know how he managed to ride his horse at all the day before, let alone get into the saddle.

She placed a goblet on the table for the Comte and tidied the tent in preparation for them to pack it away.

 

[a_libertine]

Marcel watched as Katirah picked up and fussed around the tent while he ate. Shaking his head as he watched, he thoroughly enjoyed watching her flit about like a hummingbird.

After he ate, Marcel said, "Okay, let's get this over with and then onto a horse for the first part of the day." He saw the look in her eye and said, his voice low, "Say it, and I will have you gagged for the day."

He hopped and limped over to her and the armoire and leaned against it. "Okay, let's see your taste in clothes for me."

 

[haremfaery]

Katirah had just opened her mouth to protest, when the Comte said, "Say it, and I will have you gagged for the day."

Her eyes widened in surprise. She closed her mouth. Her eyes flashed, but she didn't say anything.

She looked through the Comte's clothes looking for something easy to put on that would also be comfortable. She pulled out a tunic that wrapped across the front and tied on the side. "Is this acceptable?" She hunted for soft breeches touching each of the few that were there for the ones she thought would feel best against tender skin.

"And these." She held up the breeches. He didn't protest her choice. She did think his clothing rather drab. She should have bought him clothes from the marketplace, something colorful. Perhaps she could buy something for him from one of the merchants.

The Comte seemed to be able to lean on the armoire, so she knelt down and bunched up the pant leg so he could step into it. She looked up at him realizing she was in a provocative position.

 

[a_libertine]

Marcel watched as Katirah's eyes flitted from the head of his cock up to his eyes, realization shining from them. He smiled wanly and said, "You sucking it, maybe all I am up for these days."

Her eyes and head dropped back down as she brought the fabric of the breeches over his calves and thighs. After she fastened the pant fronts, he held her head against the plain of his stomach, her chin resting just above his cock, her cheek pressed against his taunt abdomen. His fingers twined through her hair and stroked her far cheek.

The heat of her face soaking into his skin, and the thought of her mouth oh so very close to his manhood, gave the said manhood a twinge of life. "Maybe today, we ride like this."

 

[haremfaery]

"I will do whatever the Comte wishes to ease his pain." Katirah said looking up at him. She did not need him to prove he was a man to her and drive her to distraction every night they were together.

Katirah smiled a little feeling the stirrings of his cock. "My wagon is very comfortable. I will see it stocked with food and drink so I do not have to leave the Comte when he joins me."

She stayed with her cheek against his stomach for a bit then slowly rose from her knees. "The Comte should not stand so much." She picked up the tunic and held it for him to put on. "I will tell the guard to bring the Comte's horse." She understood he must make some show of riding about the caravan before he joined her. Since he refused the opium before, perhaps he would like to try hashish with her. The hookah was in her wagon. She had not had any since the Comte bought her, now might be a good time.

 

[a_libertine]

Hobbling out of his tent, Marcel saw his horse being brought over then turned his eyes toward Katirah and watched her walk off. Part of him wondered why he allowed her to cover herself at all, but the mutterings of his two guards reminded him, as if he needed it, that the two of them were not alone.

Clambering painfully upon his horse, Marcel took in a shuddering breath and then rode to the front of the caravan. As William was riding by, Marcel called him over.

"I want you to take your riders out again today, see if you can find more of the bandit camps. If so, do as you have done in the past."

William glanced at him and nodded. "Yes, Comte, it will be as you ask."

As the last of the wagons and free riders passed him, Marcel spurred his horse forward riding up the line until he reached Katirah's wagon. Forcing the wagon to stop, Marcel dismounted directly into the back of the wagon gingerly.

He saw pillows strewn about, a hookah in the middle, and Katirah's concerned eyes staring up at him. Lowering himself onto the silken mounds of comfort, Marcel sighed heavily, and whispered, "Absinth, please."

 

[haremfaery]

Katirah had changed into a light cotton caftan. The slits up the side showed that she had no pantaloons under it. She poured the absinthe for the Comte. "I have hashish prepared. I thought it may ease the pain for my Comte." She handed him the goblet. It was only half full to keep from sloshing in the sway of the wagon. At least the Comte had not been in the saddle long today.

She crawled ot his feet and eased off his boots setting them aside. "If I tie the flap down all the way, the air in the wagon sometimes is too still." She was not sure how much privacy the Comte desired. She walked on her knees to get to his tunic and loosened the ties. "There is a technique of gentle stroking I can do to relax the Comte if he will permit. I will avoid the injuries. Or we can play a game, or cards..." She wasn't sure what distraction the Comte would prefer. Perhaps he would rather finish his drink and doze for the rest of morning.

 

[a_libertine]

Marcel eyed the hookah suspiciously as Katirah removed his boots, then shrugged. Taking up the mouth piece he inhaled as Katirah held a tender to the hashish. The gurgling sound from the water pot filled the small wagon as the acrid smoke filled his lungs.

Coughing the smoke puffed out of his lungs in sharp little gasps. Lungs rattling like an old man whose lungs are wracked with pneumonia, Marcel expelled the remaining smoke fitfully. He could see an amused smile on Katirah's lips as his circled the mouth piece again, inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs again.

Lightheaded, he exhaled the second toke and leaned back. In the next couple of minutes, the various pains and aches fell to the smoke of the hashish.

He handed the mouth piece to Katirah, "Your turn," he whispered dreamily.