Bertrice Small - Adora

She had no outlet for her hunger. Her husband’s touch disgusted her, and the memory of Murad burned deep within her secret heart. She almost regretted sending Alexander away. His body had felt wonderful against hers, and she sensed that he would be a magnificent lover. Was he right? Indeed, who would know? Could she live with her guilt if she allowed the liaison? Theadora wept bitter tears, for she could see nothing but a long and loveless future stretching endlessly ahead of her.

The man who called himself Alexander the Great was not a reckless gallant, but a shrewd businessman. His main base, the city of Phocaea was located between the emirates of Karasi and Sarakhan, opposite the island of Lesbos. Though Phocaea had a ruler, it was Alexander and his pirates who brought prosperity to the city and who really controlled it. Alexander also had bases on the islands of Chios, Lemnos, and Imbros. He had spies and coast-watchers on the smaller islands as well, thereby effectively controlling the shipping lanes in the Aegean and the areas leading to the Straits of the Dardanelles, into the Bosporus, and beyond into the Black Sea.

Merchants whose vessels regularly traveled these waters paid him an annual tribute plus a percentage of the proceeds of each voyage. There was no chance of cheating Alexander-for they were required to stand for inspection prior to each voyage. Without the inspection there was no pendant issued for their top masts. And ships without Alexander’s color-coded pendants were considered fair game and usually had their entire cargos confiscated.

Alexander preferred to receive his tribute in gold, but he would accept merchandise. Twice yearly, several of his ships sailed west into northern Europe where their cargos of silk, perfumes, and spices brought the highest possible prices. They returned bringing their master gold and fair-haired, fair-skinned, light-eyed young slaves of both sexes. There were many large landholders who were willing-for a length of silk or a packet of precious spices or a silver coin-to send attractive, healthy, young serfs from their holdings into slavery. These young people were then sold to the highest bidder in private auction, attended only by wealthy connoisseurs. Alexander thus realized a double profit on his investments.

It was the Byzantine military intelligence service, known as the Office of Barbarians, that brought Alexander the Great to the Empress Helena’s attention. Her current lover was the officer who ran the service. Knowing that her sister would be returning by sea from the Springs of Apollo, Helena sent word to Alexander that she would like Theadora and her son killed. For this service she agreed to pay a large sum of gold. Alexander was many things, but he was not a paid assassin. And he knew more about the Byzantines than they knew about him. Helena could not afford the money she offered.

But he was greatly in her debt for the information she had unwittingly tendered him. The sultan’s wife and son would fetch a very high ransom. He had therefore arranged to know when and by what route their ship was sailing. He would have lost them but for the storm which so kindly deposited them off his city’s coast.

One glimpse of Theadora had cost Alexander his heart. She was lovelier than any woman he had ever known. It did not bother him a bit that she was the sultan’s wife. He was a ruler in his own right and what he wanted, he took. But he had miscalculated when he assumed that she would be eager enough for love to forget all else. He had pushed her too far and too quickly. To win her he would have to out-think her. Alexander was a hunter by nature, and the thought of the chase was quite stimulating. It would be weeks before his council could agree on a ransom price for the princess and her son. After that further time would be spent in negotiations. Several months would go by before the ransom was settled and paid. He had time.

For the next few days Theadora saw little of her captor, and she was quite relieved. It had not been easy to withstand his assault. She remained in her apartments, and for exercise she walked out several times daily, in the garden, with Iris for company. She rarely saw Halil. He was busy with his new friends, Alexander’s several sons by his concubines, even eating and sleeping with them.

“It is better this way,” she told Iris. “To him it is simply an adventure. He will bear no scars from the experience.”

After several weeks Alexander appeared in her apartment one evening, carrying a chess set. “I thought we might enjoy a game together,” he said pleasantly.

She smiled. “How do you know I play?”

“Because you are your father’s daughter and flawless in the art of logic. The game of chess is an exercise in logic. However, if you don’t play then I shall teach you, beauty.”

“Set up the board, Alexander, and prepare to be beaten. Iris, fetch some chilled wine and some cakes for us.”

The chessboard was a work of art. Its inlaid squares were of ebony and mother-of-pearl, its pieces carved from black onyx and pure white coral. They played two games that evening. He won the first easily, for she played cautiously. Then she took the second from him, playing with an almost reckless abandon.

He laughed as she checked his queen. “You were only gauging my measure in the first game,” he accused.

“I was. I could hardly beat you if I did not study your method of playing.”

“I have never been beaten by a woman.”

“If you continue to play with me, my lord Alexander, you will have to take that chance. I play to win, and I will not contrive to lose simply because I am a woman.”

“Spoken like a true Greek!” he approved teasingly.

Now it was her turn to laugh. “I am not sure whether you approve or disapprove, Alexander.”

“I am Greek born, beauty, and therefore am used to women of great intellect. But I have lived here in Asia long enough to understand the Eastern treatment of women. It has its good points also. But it’s been a long time since I’ve really talked to a woman.”

“It has been a long time since I’ve really talked to a man,” she rejoined.

For a moment he was startled. Then he chuckled heartily. “I forgot that you live in a harem, beauty, with only eunuchs and other women for company. Are you not often bored?”

“Sometimes, but not these last few years. My son is bright, and I have spent my time in teaching him. Then, too, I work to return Christian captives to Byzantium. When we return to Bursa, however, Halil will leave me for his own court at Nicea. I have had my son longer than most sultan’s wives are allowed their sons.”

“What will you do when he is gone, beauty?”

She shook her head. “I do not know. I begged my lord Orkhan to allow me to go with Halil to Nicea-but he will not.”

“He is right,” replied Alexander. “The boy needs to be on his own, else he will never be free of your protective skirts. Remember that in ancient Sparta boys were taken from their mothers at age seven.”

She made a face at him and he chuckled. “Besides, beauty, if I were your husband, I should not want you leaving me.”

“Nonsense. Orkhan has a harem of women, many of whom are far lovelier than I am. He does not need me.”

“Then why return to him? Stay with me, and be my love. I will make it so sweet for you, beauty, that you will never want to leave me.”

She laughed shakily. “I thought you were a man of business, my lord Alexander. If I seriously considered your flattering offer, you would lose a great deal of money. Therefore, I know you cannot possibly be serious.”

He regarded her with his jewel-like eyes and then said quietly, “May I come and play with you again, beauty?” She nodded. “Then I will leave the board and pieces,” he said. And he departed.

She sat, heart pounding, hands tightly clutching each other within the cradle of her lap. He had meant it! He had really meant it! She was the sultan’s wife, and yet he boldly paid her court. What would happen if she accepted him? Would Orkhan really care, surrounded as he was by all those lush young beauties? She shook her head. This was madness! Of course Orkhan would care! Were she the humblest slavegirl he would care, for she was his property. What was the matter with her, to even consider such a thing? She was Theadora Cantacuzene, a princess of Byzantium. She was a wife! A mother! Not some silly girl!

He did not come the next night, but on the following evening they played two games-Theadora winning the first and Alexander winning the second.

“This time,” he teased, “I have studied your method of play.”

“We appear to be well-matched,” she answered him. Then, realizing that he might misunderstand her words, she blushed and hastily added, “in chess.”

“Indeed,” he replied calmly. “If you should find the need for company, please feel free to visit the women of my house. They are all very curious about the sultan’s wife.”

“Perhaps some day,” she answered absently. But as the weeks dragged on she began to feel the need for company. She would go to the harem only once, she decided, for undoubtedly the women of Alexander’s harem would prove as silly and as vicious as those in her husband’s harem.

To her surprise she was greeted cordially by all of the pirate’s women, including his three favorites-all of whom had children by him. They were pretty women with docile dispositions, whose only apparent goals in life were to make their lord and master happy. She found herself wondering if they satisfied the raging passion she had seen lurking behind the well-mannered man. Quickly she brushed the thought away, flushing guiltily.

Alexander’s harem was a place of peaceful pleasures. Everything was a delight to the touch. The air was sweetly scented with exotic flowers. Soft music was played by the skilled fingers of pretty young girls. The food was delicious, and it was served beautifully. What Adora did not know was that the harem’s menu was comprised mainly of foods thought to be aphrodisiacs-and therefore conducive to the subtle arousal of the females.