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Chapter Eight
Several nights later, the suiltaan called her to his presence for another game. Bree was embarrassed to face him after he’d caught her peeking into his tent like a voyeur. She told herself what he did with the other women of the harem was none of her business.
But increasingly, she found Tahraz stealing into her dreams. The scenes where they walked hand in hand, laughing and talking as they had in the ruins of the city deep in the desert, were somehow more disturbing than those in which she knelt before him, trembling, and he took her as he had sworn to do.
When she walked in, she found herself alone with Tahraz. His musicians had been banished once again to entertain them from outside the tent. He began by serving her from a platter of lamb stewed with grains, offering her morsels from his fingers. Though she felt uncomfortable, Bree didn’t know how to refuse without seeming rude. He asked her to give him a taste of the tiny purple berries on the platter, taking hold of her wrist when she brought her hand to his lips. Licking her honey-coated fingertips one by one then drawing them into his mouth.
A jolt of raw lust shot straight to her core. She tried to cover her intense reaction, but Tahraz smiled wickedly then sat back with an air of satisfaction that he’d gotten the response he wanted.
He brought up the evening’s wager before the game began. “Tonight, if I am victorious, I desire a prize not for me, but for the future leaders of my people. You will teach this game to the young boys of the tribe, engaging them in play and revealing to them the secrets of mastery.”
“I accept your proposal and I will counter with one of my own. If I am the victor in this evening’s match, you will allow me to give lessons in this game to the young girls of your tribe as well.”
Tahraz considered her proposal for a few moments, then smiled again. “Agreed.”
When the game began, he went on the attack. Bree parried his moves, but her head wasn’t in the match. She kept thinking about his tongue licking her fingertips. Imagining how it would feel lashing her clit.
She’d won the first two matches and despite his growing mastery of the game she was sure the chances that Tahraz could take the next three were slim to none. If she won this match, the contest would be over. If he lost face so dramatically, his temper might get the best of him, and he wouldn’t honor his promise to let her go. The evening’s wager seemed harmless, so she deliberately made a move that would allow the suiltaan to put her in check.
When she laid her king on its side, signaling defeat, Tahraz beamed. “Tomorrow you will come here after your midday rest. The boys will take turns, one playing against you as the others watch and learn. Later, they will engage each other in play, and you will observe.” He gave her a sly grin. “You are, after all, a skilled observer.”
Bree refused to meet his eyes. Had he set up this wager just so he could make that remark? Tahraz was a master at innuendoes. He would have been right at home amidst the palace intrigue of a Borgia during the Renaissance.
The next afternoon, when the sun hung low in the sky, Tahraz summoned Bree to his tent. Eight young boys sat solemnly in front of a low table where the board had been set up. She recognized several of them as the goatherds she’d met outside Bashar’s tent.
Tahraz chose the first player. He was Suhailah’s youngest brother Abdullah, the lad the woman had tried to protect by venturing into the hills alone to search for his missing lamb.
Bree spoke slowly, describing the game and the various pieces, using words she hoped the boys would understand. She wasn’t surprised when Tahraz stayed in the room, keeping watch from his chaise. As boys will do, they forgot the admonishment they’d been given to be silent during the lesson. Before long, they were crowding around the board, whispering to each other, nudging and grinning when Abdullah captured one of Bree’s pieces.
They settled into a routine. Every day Bree came to the suiltaan’s tent to give another lesson. The boys learned quickly. Soon they were engaging each other in matches while Bree coached. Tahraz put the women of the harem to work creating more chess sets so they could have several games going on at once. He never spoke, but she was aware of his eyes on her the entire time, listening intently and sizing up the board before every move.
As time went on, Bree kept the boys entertained by recounting a new tale during every lesson. She told them about great civilizations, replayed famous battles, shared with them the legends of Greek and Roman gods. The suiltaan often had to chase the boys out of the tent as the stars were coming out.
One afternoon, Tahraz sent word that he was otherwise engaged and there would be no lesson that day. The women had just finished crafting a new chess set. “Teach us how this game is played,” begged Ketifa. She was one of the youngest women in the harem, allowed to sing and dance but not yet called upon to entertain Tahraz in any other manner.
Dasheena was away, helping Bashar with dinner preparations. Without her there to weigh in, Bree decided there would be no harm in explaining the rules of the game to the bored women. There were only so many history lectures she could deliver. Perhaps her sisters could while away the hot afternoons using their minds another way. She sat down with Ketifa while the other women gathered around the board, listening intently.
They were nearing the end of their first practice match when Dasheena came back. “What are you doing?” she cried in horror.
“We’re playing chess. Ketifa shows great promise. She grasped the basics of the game faster than most of the boys did.”
“You must stop. The suiltaan will be displeased. Females of our tribe are not allowed to engage in games of war.”
“Ordinarily I would agree with that sentiment, but chess is primarily an exercise for the intellect,” Bree replied. “Perhaps the suiltaan will change his mind once he sees how talented Ketifa is.”
Dasheena swept the pieces off the board. “Hush. We will not speak of this again,” she whispered, glancing nervously at the doorway to the tent.
The following day when it was time for the afternoon lesson, the suiltaan called for all the women of the harem to accompany Bree. When they arrived, the young boys were nowhere to be seen. Tahraz was once again pacing from one end of the huge tent to the other.
The women bowed before falling to their knees and sitting back on their heels.
“Dasheena, come forward.” His voice was cold as ice.
Bree could see Dasheena fighting back tears as she approached the suiltaan.
“Were the women in my hareem playing the game of chess?”
“Yes, my lord,” she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper.
