Page 65 of Silver Angel
“What purpose?” Chantelle asked, only to have Adamma turn away and try to change the subject. She was having none of that. “What purpose, Adamma?” The young girl was still reluctant to answer. “Must I ask Jamil’s mother?”
“No! You mustn’t do that. Lalla Rahine never approved of Mara.”
“Well, then?”
Adamma bent her head. “Her—Mara, that is—her nickname is ‘the whipping post.’”
Adamma expected that to explain it. It did. “The…you mean Jamil beats her?” Chantelle gasped.
“Not him,” Adamma said quickly, and then was slow to add, “But his mutes do.”
“Why, for heaven’s sake?” Chantelle exploded. “Does the girl cause trouble?”
“Not at all,” Adamma assured her. “She is just peculiar in that she gets no pleasure out of sex without some form of violence done to her first.”
“That is preposterous!”
“It’s true,lalla. She goes to the Dey smiling and comes back smiling. The bruises mean nothing to her. My mother says it is because Mara’s first experience with a man was violent, but she still found pleasure in it.”
“You mean with Jamil?”
“No. Mara was raped by the slave master who brought her to Barikah.”
“But I thought all of Jamil’s women were virgins when they came here.”
“Mara was still a virgin,” Adamma replied. “She was raped in a different way.”
The image that arose didn’t bear thinking of. “But Jamil still has her beaten before he—before—”
Adamma nodded, saving Chantelle from finishing. “She cannot experience pleasure otherwise. And the Dey only summons her when his mood is terrible. She is happy and his anger is relieved. So you see the purpose she serves? His bad moods are not taken out on his other women, and Mara gets what she wants, too.”
“It’s despicable,” Chantelle said, but quietly.
“But who is hurt by it,lalla?”
No one, apparently, though Chantelle couldn’t help being appalled. Yet she had no business being surprised. She had seen with her own eyes that having a woman beaten was nothing to Jamil. She was almost grateful for the reminder of how cruel he could be. Forgetting that had made her dangerously enjoy his embrace this morning. But no more.
“Lalla?”
“Yes?”
“You will now be able to select three more slaves for yourself. If I may suggest—”
“Wait a minute,” Chantelle interrupted in surprise. “Who said I am to have more servants?”
“It is customary.”
Chantelle frowned at the girl. “You heard me tell Haji Agha that my being here defies custom, Adamma. I have notearned, shall we say, any special privileges, nor do I intend to.”
“You mustn’t say that,lalla. If the Dey stops summoning you, then we will be moved back with the unimportant concubines.”
From the look on Adamma’s face, that move was to be avoided at all cost. Chantelle understood the girl’s desire to remain here. When a concubine moved up, her servants also advanced in the hierarchy of the slaves. But the servants didn’t have to deal with the Dey. She wished Adamma could understand her desirenotto remain here.
“Lalla Shahar?”
Would she get no peace today to son out this new situation. Chantelle turned, glowering at the newcomer who stood framed in her doorway. She had not seen him before, but he was undoubtedly a eunuch, for no other type of men were allowed in the harem, servants or not. Only this man was fair-skinned, and looked very important in his flowing fur-trimmed clothes and high turban.
Through the windows she could see severalikbalsstanding out in the court watching him. They were unable to hide their curiosity. Neither could Adamma. Kadar had also reappeared and stood directly behind the fellow, but Chantelle detected no curiosity in him, merely a watchfulness that disturbed her for some unknown reason.
