The Emir of Gondah sat cross-legged on a large cushion, under the shade of a date
palm, in the middle of a highly fertile oasis.
He wore a colourful embroidered robe and a large tulip shaped blue turban, as
befitted the wealthy and despotic Arab ruler of many Berber tribes - tribes that he and
his forbears had subjugated.
His local annual Majlis, or public court, was well under way. It formed a key part
of his visit to the area - an event which loomed large in the life of the tribesmen.
He was a rather small, fat faced, cruel looking, bearded man of perhaps fifty. He
had an aura of wealth and power and his eyes were penetrating and hard, those of a man who
had extended his fief by ruthlessly subduing yet more proud Berber tribes - and who had
then successfully kept them subdued through fear.
His local Khalifa, or lieutenant, who was his tax or grain harvest collector, stood
proudly at his side. It was the Khalifas who were responsible for enriching the Emir - and
this one had done well.
Surrounding the Emir were his stony faced Black Guard, composed of black slaves
specially chosen for their strength and loyalty to their Master. They were armed with
razor sharp scimitars and simple muskets.
Behind the Emir was a small tent, guarded by his large chief black eunuch, Makumo,
together with two younger black eunuchs. All three were dressed in sumptuous red robes and
the strange high white cylindrical shaped hats that, together with the black short handled
whips tucked into their belts, were the mark of their craft. Makumo himself also proudly
carried the thin silver tipped bamboo cane that publicly marked him as a chief black
eunuch in charge of a harem.
Their's was a craft that was based on controlling the pleasure that a harem of
women can provide for a wealthy man. It was a skilled craft whose practitioners enjoyed a
high status and rich rewards - even though technically they, like the women in their
charge, might be slaves.
The Emir's chief black eunuch was the only person who could disturb the Emir in his
harem. He was the only man with whom the Emir discussed his women and the pleasure that
they each provided - or might be forced to provide. He was a man of influence and clearly
not someone to be trifled with.
Already there were two pretty young Berber women in the tent, kneeling on the
ground, terrified, their necks chained to different tent poles. The were naked except for
thin cloak-like shawls that they were nervously clasping to their bodies.
Outside the tent, watching the scene nervously, under the guns of the Black Guard,
were members of local Berber tribes, men, women and children, all subjects of the Emir. It
was they who tilled the fertile land around this oasis and several surrounding ones.
There was a stir as an Amgah, the leader of his tribe, came forward, urging before
him a very pretty slender Berber girl. Unlike the women of their Arab conquerors, Berber
women were relatively free. They did not go veiled, nor were they confined to a harem.
They were well known not only for their independence but also for their beauty, being tall
and slim with fine features and a slightly olive complexion.
The Amgah nervously fell to his knees in front of the Emir and prostrated himself
three times, his forehead touching the ground. The girl did the same. Then the Amgah
reached forward and humbly kissed the hem of the Emir's robe.
"In the name of Allah the Merciful and of his prophet Mohammed, I welcome you, our
Mighty Lord, to our humble tribe," he began. "And as a sign of our obedience and
subservience, I beg you to accept this gift of the most beautiful of my daughters."
He gestured towards the girl, who was now kneeling up and smiling enticingly. This
could be the chance of a lifetime for her. Perhaps to become the favourite concubine of
the Emir! Even the mother of one of his sons! And to live in the sheer pampered luxury of
his harem!
But still she shivered with fear. She knew that he was a cruel man and would be
able to abuse her as much as he wished, and his penetrating look had convinced her that
that he would enjoy hurting her, but she had no choice in the matter of her disposal.
The heart of the Amgah was in his mouth as he spoke. Would the Emir judge his
daughter to be sufficiently beautiful to be accepted? He was a hard man to please.
The Amgah remembered the story, that had gone the rounds of all the tribes, of
another headman who had tried to fob off an ugly duckling of a daughter. The Emir had
contemptuously given her to his Black Guards for their pleasure before handing back the
now dishonoured girl to her equally dishonoured father - and imposing a huge fine on his
tribe.
The Emir looked down at the kneeling girl. The gift from a tribal leader of a
daughter for his harem was quite normal. This one had an attractive and lively look about
her that amused him. He gestured to Makumo, who came ponderously forward. There were gasps
from the watching crowd, particularly the women, as they recognised the Keeper of the
Emir's Women, his jet black skin contrasting with his tall white hat. He put down his
silver tipped cane. His small red-shot eyes gleamed as, reaching down and holding the
girl's hands behind her back, he pulled her up off her knees and deftly pulled open the
front of her robe, baring her breasts and belly to the sight of the Emir.
The girl's father remained kneeling at the Emir's feet, his head to the ground.
This was, he knew, the moment of truth. Would he and his tribe be honoured or disgraced?
Whilst the Emir was looking nonchalantly at the girl's firm full breasts, Makumo
was also feeling her body, running his hand over her breasts and body, and down between
her legs, smelling her breath, examining her teeth, the flawlessness of her complexion,
and the soft texture of her long black hair. But he was also testing the responsiveness of
her nipples and beauty bud.
He turned to the Emir.
"Your Highness, I could train this one well," he reported. "She could be made to
give you great pleasure."
The Emir nodded, and gestured to the large black figure standing behind him. The
blacksmith was naked to the waist and his muscular torso was oiled and gleaming.
There gasps from the watchers as he stepped forward again. This time Makumo handed
him a shiny brass collar on which some Arabic writing and numerals had been engraved.
There was a ring on the front of the collar and another at the back.
As the crowd watched breathlessly, he pushed the girl down onto her knees and,
pulling the collar open, fastened it round her slender neck. His muscular arms swelled as
he strained to close it again so that two flanged rings at the ends of the collar were
overlapping.
Then he pulled a lead pellet out of pocket and slipped it into the rings. Again the
muscles on his arms bulged as with his huge pliers he flattened the lead pellet so that it
held the rings closed and yet could not be removed. Moments later he fastened manacles,
linked by a short length of shiny chain, to her wrists.
The crowd gasped yet again as they saw that the girl had been fitted with the
Emir's symbolic emblems of female subservience, as worn by all his concubines: the brass
collar beautifully engraved with his crest and the girl's harem number, and the manacles.
"I thank you for your gift," the Emir said to the still kneeling Amgah. "It will
serve to remind of your obedience and devotion - and that of your entire tribe."
Overwhelmed with relief, the Amgah again kissed the hem of the Emir's robe and
withdrew, walking backwards with his head still bowed as Makumo lead the girl into the
tent.
The girl was now the Emir's property, to do with as he wished.
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