Cheilin Saga ~ 21

 Cheilin Saga ~ 21  Reprise

By Len Morgan

O’Keffe had been raised in the ways of the one, ‘the trail of blood’.   She had been taught at an early age that the end justified the means.   In this case, the end would be total domination of Abbalar by Bedelacq, the living god, and his chosen and loyal worshipers.   That was fundamentally ingrained in her heart.   Young, intelligent and resourceful, she was quick witted and possessed a quality that made her irresistible to men.   That was why she dressed down, for anonymity, when other girls of her age were openly angling for a man, the best provider they could catch.   Her hair appeared badly cropped but was cunningly tucked and coloured.   Her face was pallid and she behaved in an outrageously tomboyish manner.   Even so, she found it difficult to pass unnoticed in mixed company; which was why she was forced to chew Pullu root, a plant extract guaranteed to repel men at the merest whiff of her breath.   She was a loyal and ardent follower of Bedelacq some would call her a zealot.   There was no room left in her life for complications from anything or anyone else.   She had been assiduously trained and was fully aware of her feminine attributes, and her ability to control the opposite sex.   By the age of puberty, her training was completely taken up with manipulation and control techniques.   But, no sooner had she begun to enjoy her newfound powers than she was forced to hide them, in order to carry out her duties as a spy.   That was when she was introduced to ‘la femme’, the richest and most exclusive Bordello in the city, where men of power and influence visited daily to expend their energies and converse with their favourite concubines.    The girls were sworn to secrecy, they would never repeat a word, the code was strict and the penalty for passing on pillow talk was branding and expulsion.   The girls and boys of the establishment were debriefed individually by the Madame, at the end of each session.   Then, if any other person, in public life, were seen to make gain, from such information, the girl who’d been privy to it would be questioned searched and followed.  If adjudged to be guilty of an indiscretion she would at least be on the streets, with her whores licence revoked.   Any gains they may consider she had made would be taken away with interest.   In such a situation she would be extremely fortunate to escape with her life.   Fortunately for all concerned, it never happened. 

.-…-. 

   O’Keffe was not subject to the strict code of ‘la femme’.   She was not a working girl, just a servant.   She cleaned and cleared the rooms as quickly as possible after they had been vacated; ensuring they were available for use when next  required.   She would wait patiently, in her small cupboard like room, with the tools of her trade.   Invisible and silent, she listened carefully to pillow talk, registering and passing it on, without acting upon it.   The intelligence was never for personal gain, so nobody could become aware of her clandestine activities.   If questioned, the Madame, her girls, and their guards would only remember a pale faced mousey haired gangly waif who did for them all quickly and efficiently without being observed by the clientele.  It was doubtful that anybody even knew her name, she was known simply as the scullion, transparent and anonymous, just as she liked it.   Outside of those premises, nobody could pick her out in a crowd.  she was the perfect spy.   She worked at the Bordello for two years, gleaning information useful to her group.   It was rumoured that a royal prince would be visiting the establishment seeking a concubine. Later confirmed to be prince Gavein, the heir to the Daidan dynasty; who would become Daidan IV, on the death of his father.   There were to be auditions, prior to the visit.  The Madame would select six suitable candidates to be presented to the heir apparent.  

   She arrived as herself, no more the waif, her hair now long black and lustrous; her deep green eyes drew men to her like lodestones.   She entered ‘la femme’ as if she owned it.   A plethora of beautiful women turned to look as she entered and their hearts sank.   Where they were spangled and bejewelled, she wore a single string of dainty pink fire pearls and a single matching jewel in her navel, which alone was probably worth more than all the other finery in the room.   All her rivals wore makeup in the latest style, in contrast, she appeared to have none, but the discerning Madame could sense a master’s touch in the crafty unobtrusive accentuation of line and form.   Even as their eyes met, she knew that this was the one.   Five other girls would be chosen to make up the numbers. 

“Have we met before child?” asked the Madame.

“Possibly…” she replied in a lazy husky voice that caused a thrill of excitement. 

“Exactly why are you here,” asked the Madame. She's the one! she thought.

O’Keffe smiled and her eyes widened in amusement, “You are seeking a suitable concubine, for a young prince, and I am she.”

“I shall require proof of your experience and other more personal details.”

“Here is a resume from my mistress,” with a flourish, she handed over a sealed envelope.

“You are Zop-hi-ra?”

“Zopheera” the girl corrected her.

“So, Zophira, you are not from the Eternal City.”

“That is a problem?   I was birthed here; my parents are from the northeast.”

“You understand we have to be sure you know the duties of a concubine, and what will be required of you…?” 

.-…-. 

Prince Gavein was smitten at first sight.   Zaphira’s history was carefully checked again, by Palace officials, and she formally became a resident of the Emerald Palace.   Never was there a more committed teacher or a more avid pupil.   In accordance with the tradition relating to concubines, her movements were not restricted in any way.   She lived in but was not expected to remain in, the women’s quarters.

   O’Keffe was therefore still seen on a regular basis, about the streets and circles of the city, though not as frequently as before; people just assumed there was a man in her life.   The most efficient cleaner ‘la femme’ had ever known mysteriously disappeared, without notice, she didn’t even return to collect her final stipend.   The Madame however collected enormous kudos, in the circles of bordello keepers, from having discovered and trained a royal concubine. 

(To Be Continued)

Copyright Len Morgan