The tent seemed empty. There had been only a few people there the night before, but the revelry and companionship had filled it until late into the night.
A sleepy dancer still lay under bedding made of her dancing skirts and the host’s caftan. He had woken to deal with his livestock before the market was to open, not wanting to wake the girl who had performed so well for him the night before.
The candles had burned bright, the coins and baubles the dancers were wearing flashing in the golden light. She had been sure-footed on the carpet covering the sandy soil beneath. Her eyelids were darkened with kohl, the golden brown of her eyes seductive above her veil. Her hips had moved with and against the beat of the drummer, a flair that caught his eye more than once.
The men he had been entertaining had enjoyed themselves. A dancer for each of them, their time, and bodies, bought for the night. He let the others choose first, to make sure they were in a great mood for negotiating the next day. He was glad they had left this one for him. The merchants had dragged the girls to them, one by one, pulling the veils back to reveal the beauty beneath.
As host, he led the activities, letting his guests know it was permissible to do what they wanted with the girls. A glance to the drummer told him that their bodyguard would not let things get too out of hand, but he had been bought, too. The girls’ veil was pulled back and she smiled. He pulled her to him and they kissed, her sighs effecting the guests. They kissed their own dancers before moving onto more. »Read More
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