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Leaving Desnerek to amuse himself with Esther, Ellie presented herself to the Kalinin with considered formality. Of all the possible approaches – from forcibly removing the girls from the palace through to buying them back at the auction that Victoria had planned, the straightforward approach was, Ellie had decided, the one most likely to succeed.
It is good of you to see me, Kalinin,” she said nodding her head in respect as she entered the office of the Kushtian Head of State.
“And I am happy to see you once more too, Ms Grant,” the Kalinin responded warmly, his lilting, inflected English making his words sound all the more sincere. “Please remove your veil if you wish and sit by me.” He gestured to a large pile of cushions to one side of his desk. “Will you take some hunashif?” he held out a carved wooden box and lifted the lid to offer Ellie her pick of the carefully hand rolled joints.
Ellie demurred, thinking back to her student days when the offer would have been more than welcome and wondering why she had never come up with the idea of a gold trimmed roach. Such elegant decadence! “Thank you, no, Kalinin,” she said as she took her seat. “While I welcome the hospitality, I fear the effects might cloud our discussions.”
“Ha!” the Kalinin grinned, snapping the box shut. “It is only fair that we speak with clear heads. You must tell me how I can help you. And you must tell me how is my very good friend Mr Clegg.”
“Mr Clegg is well and sends his greetings. He greatly appreciates your patronage and hopes that the business continues to deliver satisfaction to one he is proud to know as a friend.” the Kalinin smiled, and nodded accepting the compliment. “I have a favour to ask,” Ellie went on, getting to the point of her visit. “And it involves your son.”
The Kalinin looked tired. “I try to keep him diverted. Your Mr Clegg has been most helpful there. His last project, the story tellers, most excellent. But, even so, he has yet to find a role. He does not yet find state affairs as fascinating as the affairs of the bedroom.”
Ellie smiled. By all accounts the Kalinin himself was no slouch in that direction but no one could doubt his diplomatic skills either. After the Russian withdrawal, he had managed to orchestrate his return to power from the other side of the globe and without the violence that might have been expected as a consequence of the change in regime.
“It is not so much a problem with your son as with one of his wives. Since she was provided by us, we feel in some part responsible.”
“That is what I would expect of Clegg. A man of honour, even if there are those that consider his calling dishonourable.” The Kalinin laughed cheerily. “Let me guess,” he said. “Victoria?”
Ellie nodded.
“She is a useful presence here, you know. A distraction for many of our people from some of the concerns that might otherwise excite them. Of course she is scandalous but the people enjoy a little drama. They like to think their leaders are corrupt and glamorous whereas for the most part we spend our time in the simple drudgery of statecraft. Her scandals are harmless, those amused by them have less attention for other matters.”
Ellie felt that the Kalinin was being disingenuous, but there seemed no reason to interrupt him.
“I suspect, from the concern of Mr Clegg, that this is somehow related to the little enterprise that she and her friend Lauren have been engaged in? Do you suppose that their plans to provide wives for my friends in the North were other than proper? If so, I am sure something can be done.”
“I think that is the case, Kalinin,” Ellie responded. “And that their actions have the potential to disturb your Russian neighbours.”
The Kalinin frowned. “That perhaps is something I should have foreseen. I have always considered that the best way to avoid being mauled by the Russian Bear is to refrain from poking it with sticks. I am disappointed if my son has not come to a similar conclusion. He does not always see it fit to intervene in his wife's activities. Still no matter. We must deal with things as they are. What is to be done?”
“There are eight women, I believe, that have arrived in Kushtia from Russia as a result of your daughter-in- law's entrepreneurial spirit. One is no longer with her – I have already taken her into my own care.” The Kalinin gave Ellie a knowing look. “She and the remaining seven should, I believe, be repatriated. I can arrange this in such a way as to reduce the concern of your ursine neighbour. But,” Ellie looked squarely at the Kalinin, “I have to be honest and say I do not know whether this will cause problems with those who might have expected to be in nuptial delight and will now potentially be disappointed.”
The Kalinin folded his hands across his belly. “Perhaps,” he said with careful consideration. “But perhaps as well it is better for them to know that the gift of such things can be in the Kalinin's hand rather than in the hands of others. I am sure that your Mr Clegg would be able to arrange alternatives or that we can divert some resources from the United Nations Cultural Experience Programme. My daughter in law must recognise that in a market there may be some competition. And my son should realise that it can be unwise to allow a wife too free a hand.”
“From what I hear of the your Cultural Experience Programme that would seem to be an excellent suggestion,” Ellie replied. She knew that Freddie would not be interested in the sort of subsidised arrangement that the Kalinin would no doubt be expecting to sort out this particular problem. Cash flow was bad enough and he was probably going to be out of pocket on the repatriation and the expenses of Ellie's trip. On the other hand she did have some assets of her own she reflected, thinking of Dana and Esther, which could either defray the costs of this exercise or ease the solution of the problem in some other way.
“Excellent,” the Kalinin replied. “I shall see that things are arranged. The head of the program, my son and his wife, should be involved, I think. And also a representative of the Bank. In case there are any financial issues to be resolved. Does that accord with your own thoughts?”
“Thank you, Kalinin. That does indeed sound the best combination.” She wasn't sure that Henry would actually be needed but there would be no harm in his being there.
“Very well, I shall arrange things with the Emir of Kolin.”
“The Emir?” Ellie was foreseeing a complication.
“Yes, the head of the UN programme on behalf of the Culture Minister. A sound man, I am sure you have met him.”
Yes, thought Ellie, I've met Brad and I've seen what's been happening to his daughter, Lauren, at the hands of Victoria. I wonder if he knows about the way that the wife of the Kalinin's son has been treating his daughter. She said, “Absolutely. It will be good to see him again.”
+..+..+
Returning to the Dobranin household, Ellie was presented with a scene of dissipation in the cellar. Desnerek was asleep on a pile of cushions, laying on his back, his mouth open and snoring loudly. Not far from him, Esther sat, her wrists handcuffed to one of the pipes. Desnerek had – as Ellie insisted – left Esther roped up but that didn't appear to have much interfered with what he had wanted to do with her. The jacket of the suit she had been wearing when Ellie had kidnapped her had been wrenched open and her blouse torn, exposing her breasts. They looked sore, Ellie thought. Esther's skirt was torn and her knickers pushed down around her ankles. The red ball of her gag no longer filled her mouth, it now hung around her nack like some brightly coloured necklace. She didn't seem to want to cry out, through, cowering back against the wall at Ellie's approach.
The other two girls, in the cage on the far side of the room, looked to have been as traumatised by Desnerek’s actions as Esther had been. They were looking towards Ellie with pleading looks, as much as to say, “Please don't let him have us too.”
Ellie wasn't sure whether or not she would be able to help them. Desnerek's behaviour might be brutal but it looked like he'd be able to keep the girls occupied until Ellie decided what to do with them. She pushed Esther's gag back in her mouth and re-buckled the strap that held it in place. The girl's look of desperation brought a small pang of sympathy from Ellie. She picked up a blanket and wrapped it around the shivering, frightened woman.
There wasn't anything more she could do for her for a while. And even then, Ellie thought, the outlook wasn't much better than the present.
++..++..++
The offices of the Kushtian Cultural Exchange Programme had been set up in one of the most extraordinary buildings in the centre of Kolin. Overlooking the river, inside a high walled enclosure a forest of a dozen or so minarets of varying heights clustered around a courtyard. Bradley, showing Ellie across the courtyard, gestured to the towers.”It's completely impractical of course. The Forest of Minarets it's called. These towers only have a single small office on each floor. The accounts people are in that one, the allocations people up there, the people responsible for UN liaison in that one. The staff spend half their time running up and down stairs.”
“No lifts?” Ellie was looking up at the tallest of the towers. It must have been ten stories high.
“No,” Brad said. “These are historic buildings. Can't touch them according to the Heritage Minister. Besides, they're so narrow if we put lift shafts up the middle there'd be no room for the offices. We do have the benefit of view from the conference suite, though.”
Brad opened the door at the base of one of the towers, ushered Ellie inside and the two of them climbed the spiral staircase inside up to the top. The conference room did, as promised, offer a view across the river and the low, flat roofed houses that made up the outer suburbs of the Kushtian capital as well as back across the centre of the town. Ellie wasn't sure that it had been worth the climb.
The others for the meeting were already in place. Koreni Kallanis, the Kalinin's son, sat at the head of the table. Victoria sat beside him. Evidently she had been told of the purpose of the meeting. Her face was a picture of irritation. The Kalinin's son didn't look much happier. Henry sat with them on their side of the table but with an empty place between himself and Victoria.
“OK,” said Brad, perhaps I can kick things off. Let's see if we can get ourselves a touch down in time for lunch.” The Kalinin's son nodded. Victoria looked impassive.
Ellie simply said, “Fine by me.”
“Good. Let me see if I have the facts right. Your wife's enterprise,” Brad looked across at the Kalinin's son, “has eight clients that have contracted for wives.”
Koreni Kalanis nodded. Victoria continued to say nothing.
“And the bank has been providing the funding to back this enterprise?”
Henry nodded in agreement too.
“And the proposal is that we should meet these contracts using the resources of the Cultural Experience Programme?”
The Kalinin's son nodded again. Ellie was beginning to wonder if anyone else could actually speak.
Brad went on. “You all realise that this is an exceptional situation. The programme exists to enable participants to experience everyday Kushtian life.” he gestured to the United Nations insignia on the wall behind him, “in line with our agreement with UNESCO to act as a pilot for their World Cultural Heritage scheme. The girls that join the programme are normally assigned to the role of doenyes. Their presence as a source of domestic servants has been of great value in freeing up some of the most talented of our young Kushtian women for positions in commerce and industry. A very small number of them have made the transition from doenya to concubine. I do not wish, and I do not think the Kalinin would wish,” Brad paused as if waiting for contradiction. None came. “for this to be seen as some sort of precedent. With that understanding, I am happy to allocate eight of the current programme participants to meet this requirement.”
“Thank you Emir.” Koreni Kalanis son spoke for the first time. His tone was clipped, talking under duress, evidently having been well briefed by his father. “Please make whatever selection is most convenient for you.”
Victoria looked across at him frowning and was about to speak when the Kalinin's son went on. “Of course, my wife's clients may have expressed particular requirements. However,” he turned towards Victoria, “I am sure that my wife's undoubted capabilities extend to being able to sell what she has rather than troubling you for anything specific.”
Victoria scowled. Ellie imagined that she was anticipating some difficult conversations with her clients.
“I'll arrange for eight girls to be shipped to your household. They will be new arrivals, I'm afraid. I'm not going to disrupt girls already in the programme. You'll have to bear the effort of their induction to Kushtian culture.” Victoria was about to object but her husband held up a finger to warn her to keep silent. “Your wife and my daughter should be able to organise that between them. They will be arriving in Kushtia as part of the next batch of applicants next week. I'll have them shipped in manuses and moaungf, I understand that's how you wife likes to start with newcomers to your household...”
“Ouch,” thought Ellie, “he's evidently well informed about what Victoria has been up to.” The Kalinin had obviously decided to use this opportunity to help his son to put his household in order and the Emir was taking the opportunity to score a few points too.
The Kalinin's son nodded in affirmation. “And the Russian girls?” he asked. “What is to be done with them?”
Brad looked across at Elly. “You want to pick that up?”
Elly sat forward. “Yes,” she said. “They will be repatriated. I understand that you can make some transport available, Emir? If so, I will need a few days in which to arrange things on the Russian side but otherwise I think we can consider things settled.”
The Kalinin's son stood up and nodded stiffly to Brad and to Ellie before waving his wife towards the door.
Ellie was pretty sure that she didn't want to be Victoria when the two of them got back to their household.
© Freddie Clegg 2009
All rights reserved. Not to be reproduced or reposted without permission.
All characters fictitious
E-mail: freddie_clegg@yahoo.com
Web Groups: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/freddies_tales/
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Femdom_Fables/
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