PART 1: MERCHANDISE
1 - ENTER PRINCE RASHID
The nubile young woman awoke naked and terrified, gagged and blindfolded.
All around her a ship creaked and groaned and the engines vibrated beneath her.
She quickly discovered that her hands were tied together and confined in thick
mittens which denied her the use of her fingers.
There was dread in her heart as she lay trembling there and wondered what had
happened to her and where she was being taken.
She had no way of knowing that they were steaming into a modern version of the days
when the Barbary corsairs carried so many women away to slavery in Arabia -
His Excellency Prince Rashid bin Murad al Salia sat back on a long sofa in the
private office of his large palace, sipping his sherbet, triumph lighting his thoughts.
Outside, in the grounds of his palace, the sun shone down upon fountains and date palms
and beyond that heat shimmered on the endless sand dunes.
He smiled as he studied the photographs of Amanda Aston, together with her
passport which had been furnished as proof of identity, and contemplated Hassan Atala, the
dealer, who stood diffidently before him on the priceless rugs.
"Yes! That is the one that brought shame upon me! You have done well!"
Hassan bowed respectfully, rubbing his hands in anticipation of profitable
business.
He coughed, a wary eye on the Prince. "Your Highness will, I trust, bear in mind
that the abduction of this particular woman was extremely difficult and expensive. I had
to wait until she was on holiday in the Mediterranean by herself - and then move fast and
bribe many people to turn a blind eye, so that she just disappeared and cannot be
traced."
He paused and coughed again, even more significantly.
"Your Highness will be aware that several other leading Arab personalities have
also been insulted on her television show and have expressed a desire to get their hands
on her."
"Very well, Hassan," the Prince replied at last. "You are a trader and your price
will be high. Name it!"
"But Your Highness!" protested Hassan. "It is a little early yet for that! I just
thought that Your Highness would be interested to know that she will shortly be on the
market - but not yet! Indeed, she is still on her way. Then I shall make a video -"
"We need not wait for that. I wish to buy her now."
"Oh, Your Highness!" exclaimed Hassan with a gesture of despair. "There is nothing
I would like to do more than to oblige you, but that would cause grave offence to some of
my oldest and most influential clients. I have had to promise them that she will be sold
by auction to the highest bidder."
Prince Rashid's lips tightened and he frowned ominously and Hassan rushed into
nervous speech.
"Sheik Turki, for example, has expressed interest -"
"That - that upstart!"
The Prince jumped to his feet and strode up and down, mastering the inner rage
which it would be demeaning to show before this mercenary rogue who dared argue with him.
"I am sorry, Your Highness. Truly, I had no choice."
"Very well, Hassan. I am not pleased, but I shall be there. What do you think she
will fetch?"
"Your Highness, I will do all that I can to help you acquire her, but I must warn
you that bidding is likely to start perhaps as high as a quarter of a million dollars."
Prince Rashid nodded nonchalantly. "I shall be there, Hassan. The higher the price
the sweeter the revenge!"
Hassan bowed deeply, hiding his inner delight.
"There will be several other white women, Highness, including a most attractive and
unusual couple - an aristocratic English mother and daughter, and couple of beautiful
blonde Norwegian nurses."
There was no reply. The Prince was no longer interested. He had turned away. The
interview was over.
At the door Hassan salaamed again.
The matter was going well, but there remained much to see to.
Prince Rashid was very rich and very influential. He was a leading member, some
people said the leading member, of the ruling family of Shamur, a geographically small but
very rich sheikdom that had in recent years become one of the largest oil producers in the
world.
He was a tall, well built and very good looking man in his early forties. His face
was long and thin, with a small black beard, pointed and carefully trimmed. His dark eyes
were alert and kindly, intelligent and observant, but they also portrayed the natural
dominant and commanding aspect of his character. His voice was pleasant but nevertheless
firm, typical of a man who was very sure of his position and his views. His charming
manners and courtly smile, combined with his striking appearance, made him a popular and
attractive figure - not least in the eyes of the women he met on his frequent visits to
Europe.
He had been partly educated in Europe, and had travelled widely in the West as a
trusted Minister of the Government of Shamur and had had several discreet affairs with
European and American women.
Back in Shamur, his large and luxurious palace near the capital contained a
spacious harem wing, which housed his three wives, half a dozen odalisques or senior
concubines, and thirty junior concubines. His wives were all Princesses from the ruling
families of Shamur or of the neighbouring states, though he usually kept the position of
fourth wife vacant in order to encourage his concubines into greater efforts in pleasing
him.
The concubines were all beautiful young women from Egypt, the Lebanon, Turkey,
Morocco, Iran or Pakistan. To be considered for promotion to the much sought after
position of odalisque, a concubine must first have borne the Prince a son, for, despite
his Western veneer, he still had the traditional urge of the desert leader to father many
sons from carefully chosen women.
Some of the concubines had been bought from dealers. Some had been given to him as
presents by other visiting Arab leaders or business associates. Some were women who had
caught his eye on his travels and who had willingly entered his harem to enjoy the life of
ease that it promised.
Although he was a well travelled, cultured and sophisticated man of the world, the
Prince's attitude to women was basically the traditional Arab one of regarding them with
compassion as inferior creatures who must be protected from their own passionate natures,
and whose purpose in life is simply to give pleasure to men and be the mothers of their
sons.
Until now, the Prince had not seriously considered permanently acquiring a European
concubine, despite the many attractive offers that Hassan had made in recent years.
Amanda Aston, however, was a quite different matter.
She had called him a ruthless despot. A despot he was, but a benign one who saw to
the welfare of his people, poured money into schools and hospitals and roads.
She had called him a despicable womaniser and an abuser of women, which in his eyes
he was not. He saw nothing strange in denying his women the right to leave the harem, or
to write or talk to other men or even see another man at close quarters. He considered it
quite normal for the women immured in a rich man's harem to adore and worship their Master
and love only one man, whilst a man could be interested in, and even love, quite a large
number of women at the same time.
She had said other scornful things also, she had used her television program to
humiliate him - unfairly and in public.
She deserved to be punished. She also needed to be silenced, for her words were
poison.
Oh yes, it was unquestionably his duty to acquire, humiliate and punish this young
woman for what she had said about him and, worse, about Islam: he would acquire much
merit.
The fact that she was very beautiful would, admittedly, add to the pleasure!
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