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In the palace of Kushnati Koresh, Victoria and Lauren were taking the opportunity to provide their captives with a little further “encouragement”, as Victoria called it, in preparation for their new homes. Both Victoria and Lauren appeared in the cellar where the girls were being held. The two of them were fully robed in white silk versions of the traditional Kushtian chanoosh, appearing like malicious ghosts in the gloom of the cellar.
The overseer of the household of Kushnati Koresh, was unimpressed. These two women were causing trouble in the house with their schemes. Koresh seemed unwilling or unable to do anything about them but the last that had been said to Husna Hannish was that he should indulge Lauren and, as overseer, he would see that his masters bidding was done. That didn't mean that he liked it though. Russians in the Palace of a member of the Council! He thought he'd seen the last of that when the Russian troops had left. He watched as the helpless girls struggled against their chains. Two or three of them looked sullenly at the ghostly figures of Victoria and Lauren. The others seemed to ignore them completely. Hannish understood, they were still trying to deny their circumstances.
“So, are our little friends ready?” Lauren turned towards Husna Hannish
“They make some progress, Ma'am,” he responded, with as much respect as he could pretend, “but they still have to accept their fate. These Russians do not make good wives. Doenyes, perhaps even concubines but not wives.”
“Absurd,” responded Lauren. “They are all good looking girls, they will become well accustomed to the ways of Kushtian men. Or have they not been raped enough yet?” Lauren's taunt prodded both at Husna's abilities and at the reputation that all Kushtian men had for aggressive sex. Husna glowered at the woman. What did these western incomers understand of Kushtian men? It was all very well for her, he thought. There was only him and Hakshim. And eight girls! He had no doubts about his virility and Hakshim had all the energy of an eighteen year old but there was only so much that two men could do.
“They are little better than whores, madam. For them there is no shame in rape.” The dismayed looks from the girls seemed to give the lie to what Husna was saying but gagged as they were they could give no voice to their protests.
“Then perhaps they need more beatings,” Victoria contributed. “Or is your arm weak as well, Hannish?”
Hannish scowled at the woman. He reached forward and grasped one of the girls by the wooden yoke that was locked around her neck. Twisting it, he span her around showing how her naked back was crossed with the wheals of the beating that he had given her less than an hour before. The deep scores left by his whip showed that he had lacked no enthusiasm for administering punishment to the girl. Husna Hannish took satisfaction from the sharp intake of breath from behind Victoria's veil as she saw the girl's bloody scars.
The others knelt quietly, terrified of either the rape or beating that Victoria and Lauren's taunting of the Overseer would lead to. Natalya, who had been forced to fellate Hannish that morning, cowered behind one of the others, trying to avoid being noticed.
Suddenly two of the household doenyes, burst into the room. Agitated and obviously upset they were calling out in Kushtian, distressed and concerned. “What are they saying?” demanded Lauren. “What's the matter?”
Hannish looked seriously at Lauren. “It's your husband,” he said. “You must go with them.” The two doenyes led Lauren out from the cellar. Hannish and Victoria watched them go. As they left the cellar, Hannish said, “Her husband is dying. He may be dead before she reaches him.”
Victoria said nothing, thinking that, with Lauren in control of Koresh's estate, they would no longer have to worry about keeping the bank happy in order to fund their enterprise.
“Things will change,” said Hannish.
“You bet,” thought Victoria smiling behind her veil.
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Two days later, after the funeral, Lauren was at her husband's solicitors. The scene in the offices of Kushansis, Kushansis and Kosneighy was a sombre one. As became a widow, Lauren sat quietly, clad from head to foot in the heavy black chanoosh that left not an inch of her exposed, her gloved hands folded together in her lap. Behind the veil that covered her face was an expectant look of anticipated triumph as she contemplated the new freedom that access to her husband's fortune would bring. Everything seemed to be going well. The letter from Mr Kosneighy had made it clear that there was no reason for her to be concerned following the death of her husband; that she had been well provided for and need have now worries about the future. That suited Lauren just fine she thought as Mr Kosneighy came in, extended a hand and offered his condolences. “It must have come as a great shock” he said.
“Indeed,” said Lauren, although the only shock from her perspective was that he had survived so long.
“Well, I expect you wish to be informed about the last wishes of Mr Koresh.”
“Dear Kushnati,” Lauren said with a sniff that might have accompanied a tear. “Yes, I suppose so.”
“Well, I have the will here.” Mr Kosneighy took out a thick envelope and emptied the contents onto the desk between them. From the pile of documents he selected one and unfolded it. “I shall not bother you with all the legal jargon, Mrs Koresh,” he said, “the main point of the will is that Mr Koresh leaves his entire estate to his excellency the Kalinin of Kushtia to be held in trust for his son until he attains the age of thirty.”
“What!” Lauren's reaction was explosive. “What sort of deal is that? I'm his wife for fuck's sake!” Kosneighy blushed, unused to such language from behind a chanoosh.
“I'm sorry,” he said. “I don't understand. What is the problem? I thought you would be pleased there could be no better outcome.”
“You said the will looked after my interests, that I was – to use your words – 'well provided for'. You said that his will left his estate to his living heir. What sort of jerking around are you giving me?”
Kosneighy looked puzzled, not understanding either Lauren's expressions or her tone. “Mrs Koresh, of course you are well provided for. As part of your husband's estate, you are looked after too. You become now part of the Kalinin's household. That alone gives you great rank. And 'to be held in trust for his son'; that could give you the chance to re-marry if his son and the Kalinin so please.”
“But shouldn't his property come to me as his only living heir? I thought it only went to the Kalinin in the event of his having no heir.”
“Heir? Oh, I see. Of course! Mrs Koresh, I can see that you don't understand. In Kushtia a woman does not own property, so it is not possible for a women to be an “heir” as you say. There's really nothing that can be done. I'm sure that the Kalinin and his son will arrange things satisfactorily there is no question of your wanting for anything, I am sure. Things are already organised. The Kalinin's overseer is here to take you to the palace.”
Kosneighy pressed a button on his desk and the tall muscular form of the Kalinin's overseer appeared. Without speaking he gestured for Lauren to get to her feet. As she did so, he gripped her arm and span her around clamping her wrists together in a pair of heavy manuses that her hands were locked in place behind her back. As Lauren was about to protest indignantly the overseer, with practised ease, slipped his hand under Lauren's veil and pushed the soft leather plug of a moaugnf into her mouth. In spite of her struggles and muffled objections he managed to fasten the strap that held the plug in place. The overseer nodded to the lawyer.
Kosneighy stood up and reached into his desk taking out a heavy, inscribed, gold disk. He stepped forward and took a similar but smaller disk from Lauren's neck and replaced it with the heavier one. “There,” he said, “now you wear the properta of the Kalinin's household in accordance with the wishes of your late husband. I am sure that as a ranking member of the Kalinin's seragla you will find your life even more comfortable than before. I am also told that the Kalinin is anxious to see that you are well integrated into your new household and his son's chief wife has agreed to take you under her wing.”
Lauren gave an irritated grunt of complaint from behind the moaungf.
“You know Victoria, I believe. She is most concerned for your well being and that you should fit into the household's traditions and customs. Indeed, it was she that reminded me that it was traditional for a newcomer to the Kalinin's seragla to arrive wearing manuses and moaungf. You see how concerned she is for you?”
Lauren's less than lady-like response was fortunately stifled. The overseer led her away.
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When Henry got back to the office he was disappointed to discover that Anch wasn't there. He had hoped that he'd enjoy an amusing half hour with her in the Cubicon and, of course, there were the notes from his trip to type up. But without his secretary both projects would have to wait.
Anch, in fact, was still avoiding Henry. She had decided that first of all she would have to try to find out more before talking to Mr Kerrish. It was possible that she might learn more if she could talk to one of the doenyes at the Korresh household. Maybe they would know something about what had been going on, perhaps they would have seen something of what Henry had really been up to, she thought.
Then as she got close to the Korresh household, she saw Henry bustling in to the front door.
© Freddie Clegg 2009
All rights reserved. Not to be reproduced or reposted without permission.
All characters fictitious
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