Prisoner
of the Seraglio
A
Cordelia Delacourt Adventure
Chapter
10 The
Seranaga
Cordelia grasped Liz’s hand and stood as the tall warriors approached. “Don’t move Liz,” she whispered. The instructions were unnecessary. Liz was frozen in her tracks.
The men approaching stood well over six feet tall. For the first time since she had been a child, Cordelia felt small. Their skins were not exactly black; more a deep chocolate-brown, and their heads were shaved. For clothing they wore only a loincloth that hung down to their knees in front and behind. They wore numerous strings of brightly coloured glass beads strung on necklaces of copper wire. Similar ornaments hung from their earlobes and heavy copper bands were worn on each arm.
Each warrior carried a spear that was taller than he was, weapons that Cordelia eyed nervously, although none of the warriors would have needed a weapon to subdue either of the two helpless girls.
For several seconds the warriors stood watching the girls, and then one of them spoke and as a group all of them moved forward, surrounding the two frightened young women. Nothing was done to them, but it was clear from the gestures one of the warriors made that they were to accompany the warriors to wherever they were going. With little choice Cordelia and Liz moved in the direction indicated, warriors moving both ahead and behind them.
Fifteen minutes into the walk, Cordelia was close to collapse. Her escape and wild ride had caught up to her, bringing her to the edge of exhaustion, but even more serious was the fact that she was dying of thirst, not having drunk anything for almost a day. As she staggered drunkenly between her escorts, Liz, who was in about the same condition, tried to hold her up.
The warrior escort immediately stopped, and raised a gourd to the lips of each girl then without a word they lifted each barely conscious woman up, slung her across the soldiers of a warrior like a sack of grain and continued in the direction they had been going. It was a most undignified way to be carried, but neither girl could have continued on foot and was hardly in a position to object.
The warriors moved faster now that they no longer had to pace themselves to the speed of their captives. About a half hour after being taken prisoner Cordelia and Liz entered the warrior village.
They were placed on their feet a few minutes before entering the village and were able to get a good look at the people who had captured them. By her standards, the village wasn’t very impressive, consisting of a few dozen thatched-roofed circular huts surrounded by a wooden palisade. As they entered through the main gate they were swarmed by children, dogs, and a throng of black-skinned men and women. Chickens ran cackling from their path and goats stood calmly watching while they chewed thoughtfully.
The warrior escort pushed through the crowd of villagers. Cordelia noted that most of the men were dressed identically to the warriors, the children, depending on their ages, ranged from nude to partly clothed. The women’s garments too varied. Young girls and female children wore only a loin cloth similar to that of the men. They wore nothing at all above the waist, even young women with mature breasts. The older women wore a form of robe draped over their shoulders that partially covered their upper torsos. Like the warriors, the women wore jewellery consisting of necklaces of copper with glass beads.
The tumult of greeting was almost overwhelming and it was only with difficulty that the warriors were able to force their way through the exuberant crowd. Swaying unsteadily, Cordelia and Liz followed their escort, now fearful that they might be swarmed by the horde of villagers.
The noisy confusion continued until they reached the centre of the village and then suddenly died down. Cordelia peered around her tall escorts to see why and saw that a powerfully built warrior seated on what appeared to be a crude throne had waved the crowd into silence. He sat quietly studying the two girls and then spoke.
His voice was so deep that Cordelia was sure the vibrations went right through her, but she understood not a word that he said. Assuming that he might be asking about who she was she pointed to herself and spoke her name, and then did the same for Liz.
The giant warrior smiled. “Pointing to himself he said “Chulo,” and then sweeping his hand over the assembled villagers he said “Seranaga.”
Cordelia smiled her understanding, repeating his words. That brought a nod of approval and Chulo spoke again, this time to a woman standing next to him. The woman nodded and moving toward Cordelia and Liz, took both of them by the arm and indicated that they should follow her.
Without much choice in the matter, Cordelia and Liz fell in behind the woman. She appeared to be about middle age and was one of the few women Cordelia had met who was taller than she was. She noted that most of the adult women in the village and a number of the older girls matched her height.
She was taken to one of the round huts and ushered inside. Without any idea of the language of the Seranaga there was no way to communicate other than through signs, but it was fairly obvious that she and Liz were to wait where they were. Certain that her charges understood, the woman left leaving the two girls temporarily alone in the hut. They didn’t remain that way for long, however; a few minutes later the woman returned. She brought with her two more women and thankfully, food and drink.
The food consisted of a bowl of something that resembled porridge, but was unflavored by any sweetening. As only one bowl was brought and no eating utensils were provided Cordelia and Liz ate with their hands. When their hosts showed no sign of surprise or outrage at this action they assumed it was alright, although Cordelia was careful to eat with only her right hand as she had been shown when a prisoner of the desert bandits.
The drink consisted of a gourd of milk. It was warm but both girls were used to drinking warm milk by now as it was a common practice among their desert captors. Her belly full, and her thirst temporarily slaked, Cordelia yawned. She could barely keep her eyes open, a situation the women attending them seemed to appreciate. The girls were directed toward a straw pallet where they almost immediately fell asleep.
When they awoke it was daylight. Sometime during the night someone had pulled a blanket over them. They were taken outside the hut and shown where to complete their morning ablutions and then were given a breakfast of the same food that they had eaten the previous night. Cordelia began to relax a little. So far the people who had taken them in had done nothing menacing. She wasn’t sure whether she was a guest or a prisoner, but hoped that finally she might have found a place where she could feel safe.
That feeling lasted only another hour. Shortly after their breakfast several woman entered the hut. The two girls were gently ushered out and led through the village, out the gate, and into the forest. After five more minutes they reached a large pool. Cordelia thought she had never seen anything quite so welcoming, but she was a little concerned when their female escort tried to remove their clothing.
After one of the women almost tore off a button attempting to figure out how to undo the strange fastenings, Cordelia took off her clothing herself to avoid having it ripped to shreds. Liz followed her example, and then together they both stepped into the cool water of the forest pool.
The next half hour was delightful, as the two girls washed the grime and sweat from their bodies. When they climbed from the pool, however, they were a little dismayed to find that their clothing had disappeared.
“This won’t do, miss, I mean Cordelia,” Liz complained. “We can’t go around naked.”
“I don’t think we’re intended to,” Cordelia replied, “but we might just as well be.”
Cordelia alluded to he clothing provided by their hosts. It was the same revealing outfit that the Seranaga women wore. Even fully clothed they felt nude.
“This is no better than the harem.” Cordelia thought as the women who had dressed them combed out their hair.
The hair of the two English girls seemed to confuse their attendants. The comb they used was quite coarse and obviously better suited to combing out their own hair than the fine tangles of their guests. Eventually, Cordelia took the comb from the woman who was ripping her hair out by the roots and attended to it herself. Liz, having no wish to end up bald, followed Cordelia’s example.
They were then draped with jewellery identical top that of the Seranaga women. Cordelia was beginning to have a bad feeling about the situation, a feeling that was confirmed as soon as they returned to the village.
They were taken before Chulo. The giant warrior smiled when he saw her. This time Cordelia saw something beyond the smile; a look that she had seen in the eyes of the bey and of von Jagermeister and she knew what her fate was to be.
“Oh god, not again,” Cordelia muttered.
Beside her Liz nodded. “Bloody men,” she said. “They only wants one thing.”
The Seranaga closed in around the two girls, forming two long lines, the men on one side and the women on the other. A few feet away one of the warriors began to pound rhythmically on a drum and the men and women began to chant, their bodies swaying as Cordelia and Liz watched, knowing that they were involved in a ceremony they did not understand, but certain that they knew its outcome.
The dancers swirled around them, their gyrations becoming ever more frenzied. The drumbeat became ever louder until it combined with the chanting to create a sound that almost overwhelmed the senses of the two girls.
The wedding ceremony, if that was what it was, went on for hours. The dancers swirled around the two girls and then suddenly the dancing stopped. A white bull calf was led forward between the ranks of the dancers to a place just in front of the Seranagan king. Chulo rose from his throne and slowly walked toward the animal. Beside him a younger warrior kept pace, a man who was almost his spitting image.
Upon reaching the animal both men stopped and an elderly warrior handed Chulo a knife with a stone blade. Chulo seized the halter holding the animal, and with an expert motion nicked a vein in its neck.
Bright blood spilled out, staining the dust of the compound. The elder warrior held out a gourd and filled it halfway and then to Cordelia’s surprise and disgust both Chulo, and the warrior she supposed was his son, thrust their hands into the crimson stream and smeared their bodies with the glistening fluid. She let out a cry of horror as she and Liz were suddenly hauled to her feet and dragged forward to stand beside them. For a few seconds Chulo and the young warrior looked at her and Liz expectantly, and then when they just stood there, grabbed their wrists and thrust their hands into the still streaming blood.
Liz let out a scream of shock and outrage, but Cordelia just stood there, her mouth agape, too horrified and stunned to do anything else. In short order the blood was smeared over their shoulders and breasts. The older warrior then spoke briefly and Chulo nodded. With a quick sweep of the knife he finished what he had started, cutting through the great artery in the neck of the calf. The animal gave a hoarse bellow as its life-blood splashed like a fountain upon the ground. Cordelia swayed, almost certain that she was going to faint, but somehow managed to remain in control of her senses. She watched as the animal fell to its knees and then toppled onto its side as it died. Immediately several warriors fell upon it and began to dismember the carcass.
As the meat was hauled away Cordelia and Liz were returned to their place before the throne. They were pushed into a kneeling position while Chulo and the younger warrior sank to their knees in front of them; Chulo facing Cordelia and the other warrior facing Liz.
“Is this where we repeat our vows?” Cordelia thought, but even as the image crossed her mind a large gourd containing milk was placed in them.
Cordelia guessed that she was to supposed drink, but when no one else moved, she remained still. A few seconds later the elder warrior stepped forward. Kneeling to one side he raised the gourd he held over his head, chanted a few words and then poured the blood into the milk.
Cordelia and Liz watched wide-eyed as Chulo raised it to his lips. He slurped noisily and then handed the gourd to Cordelia.
With trembling hands Cordelia took the gourd. She knew that she was expected to drink and was certain this act was the key part of the ceremony. But the thought of drinking warm milk mixed with warmer blood almost made her stomach rebel. Yet she knew that if she did not she would almost certainly offend the Seranaga. Vividly the memory of the cruel punishment she had received at the hands of von Jagermeister pushed into her mind. If he was capable of carrying out so cruel an act what might a savage people like the Seranaga do? Shaking with fear and revulsion, she lifted the gourd and drank.
It was immediately taken from her hands by the younger warrior. He too drank and then passed the gourd to Liz. Following Cordelia’s example, Liz drank as well.
It seemed that the action was what the Seranaga had been waiting for. The pounding of the drum resumed as did the dancing, but Cordelia and Liz remained kneeling with Chulo and his son. Cordelia was well aware of the symbolism of the situation, but circumstances were out of her control. She could only wait until the dancing ended and see what transpired.
It was a lengthy ceremony, lasting until early evening. During that time Cordelia and Liz were brought food and drink, but Cordelia was far too nervous to do more than pick at her food, although she drank the milk that was given to her.
As evening deepened and fires were lit to continue both the celebration and to ward off the darkness, Chulo rose. He held out his hand and raised Cordelia to her feet. The son did the same with Liz. And then hand in hand the two warriors led their new brides away from the fires.
Cordelia was far too frightened to think about whether she was being honoured. She only knew that once again she was completely at the mercy of a man she had never expected to meet. On legs that felt like strands of wet spaghetti Cordelia accompanied the huge chieftain to his hut.
It was hardly an impressive structure for a
king. Although the largest hut
in the village, the entire building would have fit easily into the living
room of the home Cordelia had grown up in just outside
Cordelia stumbled as she stepped across the dark threshold of the hut, but Chulo caught her. Her breathing quickened and her heart threatened to burst from her chest as he led her across the hut to the sleeping mat.
“Please don’t hurt me,” Cordelia pleaded. She knew that Chulo could understand nothing of what she had said. Almost weeping in fear, she offered no resistance as he removed her loincloth and lay her on the simple bed.
The giant warrior was surprisingly gentle as he took her in his arms. Cordelia, however, was too frightened to appreciate the tenderness of his hands as he stroked her body and then almost lovingly parted her thighs. He murmured something she couldn’t understand as his lips caressed her breasts.
The immensity of his body terrified her. She had never imagined what it would be like to be with so huge a man. She could feel his powerful muscles as he moved against her. She gasped, her chest heaving as he parted her thighs, and then she discovered that truly all men are not created equal.
He silenced her cry of pain with a kiss, and then held her as he completed their union. Cordelia whimpered and then arched her back as her body betrayed her.
“Oh noo,” she murmured. “Nooo.” She pushed against him attempting to break free from his embrace, but her strength was like that of a child compared to his. He thrust into her, gripping her hips to prevent her escape. Her entire body shuddered as he took her and her protests turned into a moan that was halfway between pain and lust.
Kneeling, he lifted her like and child and spread her legs on either side of his muscular thighs. Then gripping her hips he let her weight and a convulsive thrust of his pelvis he entered her once again.
Slowly, he enjoyed her, penetrating her a little at a time to allow her body to adjust and accommodate his make member. Gradually the pain eased, to be replaced by one of pleasure. Chulo shifted his grip slightly, leaned forward and penetrated her fully.
Cordelia screamed, but it was not a scream of pain. To her shame it was a cry of carnal desire. She clasped the giant warrior to her, thrusting her hips to receive his maleness and cried out as he responded, driving into her with a strength she would not have believed possible. She cried out again, the very size and strength of the huge warrior elevating her sexual excitement. And then her loins convulsed and she clung to Chulo while he groaned in pleasure.
The Seranagan king made love to her twice more before morning. As the day dawned, Cordelia awoke from an exhausted sleep. Beside her Chulo stirred and then awakened. He smiled at her and then left the hut. Cordelia tried to move, but found that the soreness she had experienced when she had been bedded by the bey and von Jagermeister was as nothing compared to the way she felt now.
“Oh god,” she moaned. It was as if she had been made love to by an entire regiment. She doubted that she would be able to walk properly for days. Gritting her teeth she forced herself to stand and put on what passed for a woman’s clothing in Seranagan society.
Outside the village was already in motion. Cordelia guessed that most of the villagers probably rose before dawn. She looked around for Liz, wondering if her friend was a sore as she was. She spotted her almost immediately, standing outside one of the huts. Like Cordelia she was semi-nude, and her face lit up with a smile as she caught sight of her companion.
Liz crossed the space between them, walking without difficulty. She gave Cordelia a wry smile. “Blimey,” she said. “Are you alright, miss Cordelia?”
“I’m fine,” Cordelia lied. The truth was too embarrassing, but she knew that Liz was not taken in.
“Come on,” the girl said. “Let’s have a wash. You’ll feel better when you’re clean.”
Cordelia knew that was Liz’s way of telling her that she understood what Cordelia was experiencing. As she walked beside her friend, trying not to show any pain she almost envied the girl’s greater experience. Thus it was a bit of a surprise as Liz gave a great sigh as she stepped into the bathing pool.
“Oh, that feels good,” she gasped. “I’ve not had a night like that since my first time.”
“Oh sorry miss Cordelia,” Liz apologized. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“That’s alright, Liz,” Cordelia answered, wincing as she lowered herself into the pool. “I know exactly how you feel.”
She immersed herself into the pool. The cool water seemed to help, but it could not wash away Cordelia’s sense of guilt. No matter what she did she could not overcome her shame at the way she had responded to the Saranagan king. It had been a painful experience, but one that she had responded to in a manner that was unladylike in the extreme. She reflected that only a few months ago she had been an innocent girl, barely out of her sixteenth birthday, and now she had experienced three men in as many months and learned things that she would not have dreamed of before.
An excited shout rousted her out of her self-critical reverie. She looked up to see a number of the villagers, both male and female running toward the pool. When they arrived it was clear from their excited gestures that she and Liz were to end their bath and return to the village.
Puzzled, and not a little apprehensive, Cordelia and Liz followed the Seranagans back to the palisade. When they arrived they saw what the fuss was all about.
Cordelia’s heart leapt. Sitting calmly on a stool before the king’s throne was a tall, powerfully built white man. As she moved closer Cordelia saw that he was heavily bearded and probably about forty or fifty years of age. As she and Liz arrived he looked at them expressionlessly and then spoke to Chulo.
Not understanding more than a couple of words of the language, Cordelia could not follow the conversation, but supposed from the glances directed toward her and Liz that they were probably the subjects under discussion. She wanted shout to the man, but some sort of inner wisdom told her that it might be best to keep her mouth shut. After all, she and the strange white man were surrounded by hundreds of African warriors. There was nothing he could do if Chulo decided that he had been insulted and chose to take action.
It suddenly occurred to her as she watched the conversation that she was standing in front of a white man in a state bordering on complete nudity. Although the strange white man seemed to pay little or no attention to either her or Liz, she felt absolutely mortified that any civilized man should see her in that condition.
Crouching down on the ground, and covering her breasts with her arms, she watched and waited as the discussion between Chulo and the white man continued.
The dialogue went on for what seemed an eternity although it probably lasted no more than two or three hours. However, long it was, the sun was almost directly overhead when Chulo nodded and smiled his satisfaction. He looked at Liz and Cordelia and spoke quietly to his attendants. A few minutes later several women appeared carrying the clothing they had worn when they had first encountered the Seranaga.
With some relief both women received the clothing and immediately retired to a nearby hut to dress. Cordelia could not make her fingers work fast enough. She was terrified that somehow the mysterious white man might disappeared while she changed her clothes, but to her relief he was still there when she and Liz emerged a few minutes later.
The man smiled at them and motioned for them to join him. Tentatively, Cordelia walked toward him, fearful that at the last minute the Seranaga might decide to keep her in the village. But nothing of the sort happened. A few seconds later she and Liz were standing next to the stranger.
The man bowed slightly and then spoke.
“Good afternoon ladies.
I don’t know what you are doing in the middle of
As he spoke the man motioned that they should walk in front of him toward
the gap in the palisade. He continued
speaking as they walked. “My
name in
“I am Cordelia Delacourt and this is my companion, Liz Brown. You, sir, must have been sent by god. I thought we were doomed to spend our lives as guests of the Seranaga.”
“Guests, were you?”
“Continue?” Cordelia asked
anxiously. “My companion
and I are most desirous of returning to
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