The Ship, The Oasis, The Book, The Slave, Part III free porn video

The Ship, the Oasis, the Book, the Slave, Part III. By Geneva. The former corsair Rami, now the woman Nesrine, makes a life for herself and her family in Marseille. Unexpectedly, she come into possession of magic book and uses it to save a family member and destroy an enemy. This story is a continuation of my earlier stories, 'The Ship, the Oasis, the Book, the Slave', and its sequal, 'The Ship, the Oasis, the Book, the Slave, part II'. This story can stand on its own, but it might be better to read the earlier stories. START It was a pleasant morning and I felt lazy. Yann had gone to the warehouse and I just felt like sitting down to enjoy the spring sun, but there were household errands to be done. Still, I took my time, loving the warmth on my face as I ambled down past the wharves, on my way to the fish market to get something for our supper that evening, and a few other errands. I noticed that there were some new ships at the wharves and I stopped to admire their lines and take in the sounds and smells of the harbor and the sea. They reminded me of my past life. Another ship was approaching the harbor entrance and as it drew nearer I recognized the flag at its mast, a white cross on a red background. Maltese ships were not uncommon, but the usual trading vessels and other ships in Marseille came from the nearer ports along the coasts of France, Italy and Spain. I strolled on a little way further to a better vantage point of the ship as it furled its mainsails, passed through the harbor entrance and made for the docks. It must have touched the wharf with barely a bump and two sailors jumped to the shore to secure it to the bollards. I nodded approvingly. I saw its name was the Katerina. It gave me more than a momentary twinge of nostalgia as I watched it. In my past life, I had been a man, and a captain, in command of such a good ship and crew and I flattered myself that now, even with my drastically changed present life, I was a good judge of how a ship should be handled. However, in that past life, I would have been very wary of a ship with such a flag, that of the Knights of St. John. I had sailed out of Tunis as a corsair, an enemy. I sat down on a rock and thought back on my past life. In these days I had been a powerful and skilled captain, a slave trader and a merchant. I had commanded a fast tough xebec and braved the seas, even the wild and cold North Atlantic. I had raided the coast of Iberia, France, and the Northern islands, taking European slaves to be sold in the North African markets. These lands would have feared me. Now that was utterly gone. I was a woman, and now wife to a merchant's assistant in Marseille. My ambition had been too great and, through a series of badly- calculated plans, I had overreached myself. I had tried to swindle Walid, my partner in a slave trading business. At first we had cooperated to our mutual profit. I, a seafarer and raider, captured young men and women from the coasts of Europe and transported them in the holds of slave ships to Walid's oasis in North Africa. There, his wife Amira used an old magic spell book to change them all, both men and women, into beautiful young women, prime harem material that we could sell in Alexandria. Walid's exacting training made our slaves obedient, well-trained goods and eagerly sought after in the slave markets. A very profitable business for both of us! Once again I cursed the greed that had made me try to get the business all to myself, Helped by my treacherous uncle Youssef, Walid had laid a trap for me. When my force attacked his oasis, we had all been captured, and as a punishment, Amira, using the magic book, had changed me into a beautiful young woman. Just as I had earlier enslaved captives from the coasts of Europe, they had enslaved me and my force, Then, like all the other young females the spell had produced, I too was eminently suitable for the harem, and so I had been treated. With the other unfortunates of my crew I had been rigorously trained as a harem slave over several months in Walid's compound in the desert oasis. Youssef's part in the scheme had given him my profitable business. I, the true owner, had become only an owned slave. Then, in a violent storm at the oasis, helped by a freshly captured young Breton fisherman called Yann, I had been able to escape from Walid's slave compound. But I had found myself in a dreadful quandary. I was not ready to accept my female body and I needed a reverse spell in the book if I wanted to change back. But Walid had the book. So, I had hesitated, and been recaptured and punished by the whip while Yann had managed to escape. At least, on my way to the slave market of Alexandria, I had been able to take revenge on my uncle. At Alexandria I had been sold and was on my way to another slave dealer when the ship carrying me had been captured by a vessel owned by the Knights of St John from Malta. In Malta I was told that Walid's oasis had been destroyed in a raid by what appeared to be desert tribesmen. It was devastating news. With the destruction, the book containing the magic spell that could have changed me back would have been destroyed too. Thus, I was stuck as a woman. By then, it had been some months since Amira had used the spell on me and I had to finally accept my new female body. It had seemed there would be no way I could ever change back. My later capture by the knights was not really a total escape from my slavery. One of the knights had tried to take me as his mistress but after he suddenly died I found myself in Marseille as a free woman, even with a small amount of money so that I was not destitute. I sighed and shook my head thinking about it. That was another life. It would do me no good to think of past days. I now had a new life as a woman and I was determined to build it with Yann. In Marseille I had met Yann again, totally unexpectedly. He was employed in a merchant and trading company owned by a merchant called Robert Huguet. He told me that after his escape from Walid he had found his way to Marseille where he had taken work with Huguet, at first to get enough money to get back to Brittany. Then, as Robert needed help build his expanding trading company and had taken a liking to Yann, he had persuaded him to stay. My shock at meeting Yann again had been great, but I could not believe how happy I was to find him. By then, as Walid had suggested I would become after I was changed, I had totally accepted my role as a woman. I was carried along by Yann's enthusiasm and our mutual attraction, but I wanted to be sure before I tied myself to the man. At first I lived at an inn near the harbor, and I worked there for some weeks helping to clean rooms and serve meals. In return they fed me and supplied me with a cot in a small room with another maid. Later I got to help prepare some meals. I was more and more aware that I desired Yann and in a few weeks we knew we were meant for each other. Still, although I accepted Yann's offer of marriage, I gently turned away his more intimate caresses when we were alone. The more we behaved decorously before our marriage and I looked like a respectable citizen, the better I would be accepted. I had been raised as a Muslim, but that was impossible here in France, a Christian nation that suffered from the North African corsair raids, and to mollify the priest at our marriage I had pretended that I had been born a Christian in Spain. I said that although I had been of Moorish background, my family had been converted to Christianity after the conquest of Granada. Then, when I was young, I had been captured by Barbary corsairs and raised as a slave. I knew he and others would look suspiciously at my North African name, Nesrine, Besides, it had been given to me as a slave and as I was no longer a slave. I now called myself Nerine. It was fancier than the usual female names here in Marseille, but it was accepted. The little church where we were married two months later was well decorated, but, as soon as the ceremony was over, Yann hurried me to the cottage he had rented for us. Now that it was to be my home I looked around it more critically and sighed. It was small, and dirty, a great change from the opulent surroundings I had been used to in Tunis. But I was determined to get it tidier with some of the housekeeping I had learned at the tavern. So, I pretended that I was pleased with it. I embraced him and had the satisfaction of seeing him blush slightly. I felt a bulge beneath his breeches. That evening we ate at the tavern then later, my heart pounding, I lay in our new bed and waited for him, a little apprehensive that I had committed myself to be his wife. I still wondered if I could love him and accept him as a woman should. I forced away the memory of my past history as a man, changed by magic into a female. Yet, this man had tried to rescue me from the oasis. He would protect me and I had given my word. I wiped a small tear. I hoped I could be responsive to him. I wondered nervously about what would happen. I was still a virgin, at least as a female. I hoped I would not find his lovemaking painful or unwelcome. During the hard months at Walid's compound I had been well trained in the skills of a harem slave, although never penetrated. That way Walid made sure I would be a virgin when sold, to his greater profit. Even after I had been sold I had remained a virgin through two other owners. I knew what was supposed to happen in the marriage bed, especially my part in it, yet I was strangely reticent. This man loved me, and I loved him. My own response and what would happen to me would be as a free woman, not a slave. Yann obviously had no such reticence and, climbing into the bed, immediately took me in his arms and pulled me to him, almost crushing me in his strong arms. He pressed his lips to mine and nuzzled at my neck, then stroked my back all the way down to my buttocks and up again to my neck. His hands were warm and slightly rough. I began to relax. Strange sensations were growing in me, and I sought his lips again with my own. His mustache and beard tickled slightly but I did not mind. Now he kissed my lips softly, and, as strange feelings rose further inside me, I kissed him back tenderly, then more eagerly, putting my arms around him. I shifted to allow him to lift the hem of my nightdress over my belly, chest and shoulders, then over my head so that I was totally exposed to him. When I viewed my pale body in the filtered moonlight through the window I knew I was proud of its female shape, with its complex swellings, curves and hollows flowing harmoniously into each other. I hoped that he would like my body too. I felt my nipples harden. "So beautiful," he breathed. He kissed up and down my body then brushed my neck with his lips briefly and cupped my breasts with his hands, his fingers rolling and teasing my nipples, making them hard. He sucked on both of them making little shivers run up and down my body. He had pulled off his shirt and was completely naked too. I thrilled with the sight of his male body, his wide shoulders, and slim hips, but most of all his readiness. I ran my hands through the hair on his chest and, needing him, pulled his lips to mine. My nipples and areolas were tingling and I felt a strange tension building in my belly and at my groin. We embraced tightly again, his arms crushed me to him and his strong hands stroked me up and down. He kissed and sucked on my nipples again, making strange wanton sensations course from my breasts, to my belly and my groin. He ran his tongue down my belly to my female mount, still bare from its drastic waxing in Walid's compound, then back again to my nipples, kissing and sucking at me until I gasped and squirmed in pleasure. I felt wetness between my legs and I knew I was ready for him as a woman should be. I had wondered about this moment. At the oasis I had been trained to give a man pleasure but through circumstances I was still a virgin. Now I was thrilled that my body was responding as it should to him. I reached to his manhood and, spreading my legs, guided him easily into me. I gasped a little at the sharp pain as my female lips parted, and then I was joyously filled with him. I could not believe the pleasure when he began to move in me. He was desperate for me and thrust increasingly harder and deeper, sending increasing waves of thrill through me until I was oblivious to all but the feeling of him inside me. I was impaled on him, held by him, but it was an ecstatic capture. I gasped with each thrust, giving little cries and whimpers of pleasure as he moved back and forward inside me. I pulled him to me fiercely, my nails digging into his back. Then my head was back, my neck stretched out and I was panting and moaning as I felt my climax building. I was uttering little cries. We crested simultaneously with his deep indrawn breaths and my own slight scream and I felt my own rhythm as his manhood pulsed inside me. Afterwards, I lay in his arms. I could not believe the pleasure that a man could give a woman. Even the training in the slave compound had not prepared me for this. If I had any doubts of my new role they were dispelled. The spell that had made me into a woman had worked its magic on my mind and emotions as Walid and Amira had said it would. I could barely imagine now or remember what it was like to be a man. Perhaps my rigorous training at Walid's oasis had changed me, but I doubted that it was the only reason. That was several months previously. More and more I had put the memory of my past life into a small corner of my mind and taken on the role of a respectable wife. I had worked hard at my little cottage and it had become a pleasant home. I was now completely used to it and accepted that I had a pretty face and figure. I knew that I attracted men's notice in the marketplace and in the streets. I was pleased by their attention, but my heart belonged to Yann. A seagull made a screech near me and with a start I came out of my reverie. I had undergone several bleeding spells, but now I had not bled for two months. I put my hands over my belly and smiled. I was now pregnant. I watched the docking procedure for a little longer as the ship tied up and began to unload its cargo. I saw it had berthed near Yann's warehouse. Perhaps at supper I could ask him what news the ship had brought from Malta. I made my way round the stalls selling vegetables and bread, and after exchanging greetings with some women I had come to know, I walked over to my favorite fish seller. I was a regular customer and after some half hearted and good natured bargaining I had some mullet for our supper. After a few more purchases, I made my way home. The afternoon sun was now quite hot and I thought I would have a rest before I had to prepare our supper. I still felt a little tired, but my neighbor Claire assured me that tiredness was to be expected in the first months of my pregnancy. She said I would get more energy in the coming weeks. Our small cottage was close to the waterfront. Actually I was well off compared to many. This house even had sleeping quarters separate from the main living area. Still, it was a poor dwelling compared to the large house that my father had owned in Tunis and that I should have owned. He had been a prosperous merchant until his death and I was his heir. Now all of that was gone. I wondered how the rest of my family were managing. My mother would have suffered greatly. First, my father had been killed on a raid. Then I had vanished into the desert. Finally, her brother Youssef had disappeared on a voyage. He was treacherous, but she would not have known that. Fortunately Monsieur Huguet's trading business was becoming more prosperous and Yann and I had a good and steadily improving life. With the knowledge and experience from my past life as a merchant and trader, I discreetly tried to advise Yann and Monsieur Huguet on the business and after some mild amusement at my female suggestions they had accepted my knowledge and often took my advice. Of course, Yann knew nothing of my past life as a corsair and my activities. He did not know about the magic book either and I did not dare tell him about it. As far as he knew when he first saw me at the slave compound at Walid's oasis, I had been born a female and at some time enslaved. I began to prepare the fish and vegetables for our meal. Yann would be home in the early evening and I would take a chance to wash before he arrived, perhaps even rest a bit. Perhaps later we might make love. I wondered how it would be as my pregnancy developed. I was in the last stages of getting the fish ready when I heard voices, one of them Yann's. He must have brought company home earlier than he usually finished. I listened carefully to the voices and breathed easier when I heard only one other voice. I did a quick calculation. The large piece of fish I had bought would serve three easily, but I would have to cook more rice, and if necessary, there was still some spiced bean mixture left from a previous meal. In all of my previous life I had never had to prepare food. Growing up, that had been the responsibility of servants in my father's house. At sea, on the raiding ships, a lesser crew member prepared simple meals. As a slave in Walid's compound, it had been his servants who prepared meals. After all, a harem slave really had other things to attend to instead of cooking. Now that I was free and had my own house, I quickly learned. I smiled to myself. Yann had been very tolerant of my early efforts, but in his Breton fishing village, he had not been exposed to much fancy food either. I was improving. I paused to tidy my hair, wipe my hands on my apron and went to the door. The sight of my husband never failed to stir my heart. "Ah, Nerine," Yann cried. "I hope you don't mind, I have brought someone for supper. This is Morvan. He is a sailor on that ship, the Katerina, that arrived from Malta today. Did you see it in the harbor? I got speaking to him at the warehouse and found he is from the neighboring village to mine in Brittany. Can you imagine that? I invited him for supper and Monsieur Huguet allowed me to leave early. Morvan and I will have a chance to talk about home." Morvan gave a slight bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Madame Caradoc." "Welcome, Morvan, Yann will enjoy talking to you, but please call me Nerine" I said. I smiled to myself. Yann talked often about Brittanny, as 'home' and of going back there, but I knew it was only a dream. Here in Marseille as an assistant to an increasingly successful merchant, he was far better off than he would have been as a simple fisherman in a mean wind- and sea-swept Breton village. And I certainly did not want to go and live there. Marseille's mixture of races from around the Mediterranean made it cosmopolitan enough that my own olive skin, dark hair and brown eyes were almost unnoticed. It would be a far different story in Brittany. Morvan was almost as fair as Yann, with just a touch more red in his hair and beard. Like Yann's, his eyes were a grayish blue. He was a little taller than my husband, but probably not as muscled. His face was weatherbeaten with his life at sea, while Yann had now lost much of the look of a seafarer. Yann's face was now less tanned too and in his domesticity he had gained enough weight to counter the lean, almost scrawny look of a sailor. The meal went well, and Morvan dutifully complimented me on the fish and flavored rice. I was not a great cook, but I was learning. At least my supper would be a better meal than he would have had on board a ship and the fare in the Breton village. I smiled, reproaching myself, only half -heartedly, for my somewhat petty thoughts. We had some more wine and after I had cleaned the dishes I joined the men, sitting outside our door, overlooking the harbor. In the growing gloom I could see some laborers still working in the docks by the light of some torches and I heard their shouts. Some disjointed singing and mandolin music drifted across from a harbor tavern. Morvan and Yann had moved on from talking about their Brittany villages to Valetta and Malta. "Do you sail much in the knights' ships?" I asked, "or do you have other work?" "I used to, but I have been with the Katerina for two years now." "What kind of work does the Katerina do?" "Oh, mostly trading along the Italian coast, but occasional raiding too along the North African coast. The Algerians and Tunisians raid our shipping, we raid theirs. Whenever we meet them, we fight." "Be careful that you are not captured," said Yann. "That was how I came to be here in the Mediterranean. A corsair ship raided my village in Britanny and I was caught." "Obviously you managed to survive, I see, and escape. Not many escape," said Morvan. Yann spat into the dust. "Yes, it was hell under the decks, with the stench and the crowding. Some died, one a close friend. I was lucky and survived. It was a bad time and I was in despair. Then I was shipped to an oasis in the desert, somewhere west of Alexandria. I think it was for some training before I was to be sold in some market along that coast. I heard Alexandria mentioned. Then, that very day, an enormous sandstorm blew up. It blew down the fence round the compound and some slave huts and I managed to escape in the confusion." He beamed at me. "And that was when I first met Nerine, She was trying to escape too!" he said proudly, leaning over and squeezing my hand. "She had been a slave there and escaped with me." He grinned at me. "We made our way to the coast, found a small boat in a ship wrecked and beached in the storm and eventually I got to Marseille. Unfortunately the slave dealer recaptured her but eventually she escaped too." I was uncomfortable with hearing about my past life. I had been responsible for many of these slave raids. "That is a long story. The slaver was called Walid, and his wife was Amira," I said, hoping to cut it short. "But please, it was an unhappy time in my life and I do not want to talk about it." But Morvan had more to say. "You were both at a slave compound in an oasis, and west of Alexandria? I wonder if that was the one that I saw?" I was jolted his comment and at the memory of the painful events at the oasis and only just managed not to show my reaction, but my husband was more visibly startled and sat back. "How do you mean," Yann gasped. "Oh, one of the commanders at Malta discovered that his wife had perished on a shipwreck on the African coast and sent an expedition to recover her body. I was on that expedition." "You know," said Yann, waving his arms in excitement. "That must have been the wrecked ship I saw, Nerine too. We found the ship and an injured woman in it. Poor thing! She died just as we found her and Nerine persuaded me to help her bury the woman. So you were in the expedition to get her remains back?" I put aside my misgivings about talk of the oasis. "You know, when I was later taken to Malta, I was the one who told the knights about the woman, " I said. "And I later heard they had sent an expedition to get the body. That would have been the one you were on. What a coincidence! But you said you saw the oasis?" Morvan nodded. "Yes, when we has recovered the woman's body and we were about ready to leave, we saw clouds of black smoke away to the south. As we had assumed there was nothing there but bare desert my leader was curious and asked for volunteers to go and investigate." He grinned. "Yes, I know it was taking a risk to go further inland from the coast and our boat, but I was younger and braver at the time, maybe even foolhardy, and I volunteered to go. There were about a dozen of us went off to see what was making the smoke. It took some hours to get there. Hot too, in the blazing sun! But we found an oasis, or at least what was left of it." "How do you mean?" asked Yann. "It was totally wrecked. All the buildings had been burned, and there were many unburied bodies lying in the sand, the vultures picking at them already. Even the palm trees were cut down. Someone must have been feeling very vindictive, or ruthless to cut down the palm trees." I remembered that Walid had been called 'the sly'. Some other enemy or enemies must have wanted great revenge on him. Their attack had been more successful than mine had been, I thought ruefully. "Yes, I was imprisoned in a fenced compound there," said Yann. "Nerine too. Thank goodness it will no longer be a base for these scum of slave dealers." Morvan nodded. " I saw the compound too, or its remains. It was all wrecked too and the fence broken down." "So, nothing left," I commented. I wondered how this enemy of Walid had been more successful than I had. Obviously Amira had not had a chance to use her magic book that had foiled my attempt to capture the oasis. "Yes, just about all gone. There were hoof marks and footsteps leading to the southeast but we did not follow. That would have been too dangerous. Besides we had only enough drinking water to get back to the ship. The wells in the oasis had been poisoned, bodies dumped in them." I was curious. "The owner of the slave compound used to keep a lot of slaves there. Any sign of them?" Morvan shrugged. "Slaves? None there, or alive anyway, but I had a look at the footsteps leading away. Some were wearing sandals, and some were barefoot. Maybe the footprints were from slaves being driven off to another owner. I saw only bodies and debris left behind, and a lot of litter scattered around. Almost all of the building and their contents had been burned. There was just one part of the main building had not burned and some of us poked around in it to see if there was anything worth taking. It was a pity. The furnishings in it had been nice, but just about everything was ripped or broken. The raiders, whoever they were had left nothing. Oh, I picked up a little book that was in a smashed box lying just outside. Looks like a horse or camel had trampled on the box. A pity, as it had been a fancy little box, nicely made. Sandalwood too, I think." My blood suddenly ran cold! Was that the book of spells, containing the one that had changed me? I had thought it would have been destroyed in the pillage of the oasis and Walid's operation. That book was supposed to have spell that would reverse the effect of the first. With it I could change back to a man. And if I returned to Tunis I could become head of my household again, a rich, influential citizen, with warehouses, men and ships at my disposal. My old life could be restored! I tried to keep my voice calm. "A little book? Oh well, some stuff for you to read!" Morvan laughed. "No, I can't read. That's not for a sailor like me. I thought of throwing it away but I gave it to the captain, old Pirera, when we got back to the ship, as a souvenir. Funnily, it didn't look like the usual Arabic writing. I can't read anyway so it made no difference to me. Pirera can read a little, but I don't know what he did with it after that. Probably stuck it on a shelf in the Katerina as a souvenir. But that is a coincidence! Imagine that you both knew the place! That you were captives there! You were very lucky to escape! That had been a high fence round the slave compound." I thought back to being penned in the compound, the slave huts and the girls in them being rigorously trained or waiting for their sale. "Is Pirera captain of your ship now?" I tried to ask casually. "No, Pirera got sick, and the knights appointed another captain. That's Valenzin. Actually he was on the raid too." That night, as we lay in bed, Yann put his arm around me. I stroked it, feeling the springy hair on his arms. "Something the matter, Nesrine?" He often used my old North African slave name when we were by ourselves. So Yann had picked up on my feelings. Once again I felt guilty that I had not told him my complete history. As far as he knew. I was just another female slave when he met me. I had told him that I really was the daughter of a Tunis merchant who had fallen on hard times and through a series of misfortunes I had been enslaved. "No, it's just the memories of old times." He put his hand on my thighs and pushed my nightgown up to my belly. He rubbed his rough hand on my belly. "You are barely showing yet," he commented. I put my hand over his. "Just wait a few more months and it will be different story. I will be as large as a whale!" I laughed. "What do you think it will be?" "I have no way of telling, but for you, I hope a boy, but we shall see." His hand found my breasts and fondled them. They were slightly tender from my pregnancy, but soon I was ready and we made love. After, I stroked his cheek and gave a small laugh. "I think it will start to get awkward that way. Maybe we will have to try some different positions." Yann soon fell asleep, and, when his arm slid off me, I turned onto my back and lay thinking. The book was actually near, that could reverse the spell, but I loved my husband. I was thrilled that I was bearing a child that was the product of our union. Although my life was nowhere as well off as it had been, we looked forward to a bright future. With hard work and good fortune we would make it happen. I would not attempt to get the book again. We had finished breakfast the next morning and I embraced Yann as he was getting ready to go the warehouse. "So you are off to work again. The business is doing well?" Yann put his arms around me and nuzzled my neck. "Yes, fairly well. I seem to be taking over more of the work as Robert is often not well and is feeling his age. He tells me he relies on me greatly. But last night, Nesrine, you seemed very interested in what Morvan said about the oasis. I am interested too. Would you like me to invite Valenzin and Morvan over again to hear what they say. We were lucky to escape from that oasis and I'd like to hear more." "I am not so sure. It was a painful time in my life. But yes, I suppose I should hear what he has to say." That evening I cooked a bouillabaisse. The men complimented me on it and after I had cleared away the dishes I went to sit with them as they described what they had found at the destroyed oasis buildings. Eventually the conversation got round to the book that Morvan had found. "Have you read the book?" I asked casually. "I suppose it was some ledger of the slaver Walid's." Valenzin shook his head. "Well, if it is, it's not in Arabic. Its got Roman letters but I can't read much at all. Even Maltese, I can only read a few words of it, but someone told me the book is in Spanish, and it's about medical treatments." He shrugged ruefully. " I even tried to read a part but it was too difficult. There is a lot of stuff too that is just gibberish. It's in a different language, not Spanish or any language anyone I asked had seen. Mind you, that's not saying much." He grinned." I have a smattering of French and Catalan, but just enough for a sailor like me to help in trading. Anyhow, Morvan mentioned you were interested in the book and I brought it along." He reached into his deep pocket and pulled it out. I just about fell off the chair in shock. It was indeed the book. It had the same faded yellow cover that I remembered, that I had last seen in the hands of Walid's accursed wife Amira. She had told me it was covered in human skin, needed for the spells to work. I could hardly control my trembling. To see it in front of me again! Valenzin held it out to me. "Here, Nerine! You want to have it? It's no use to me. It would be a memory for you, of the slave compound where you suffered so much. You will be pleased that it is totally destroyed. All that was left was this book. Or maybe I should just throw it away? I see you are a bit upset by it. I am sorry to remind you of it." I forced myself to act calm and took the book in my hand, only just keeping my trembling hands under control. "No, that's all right. Thank you, Valenzin, for the book. It was a time of trial for me, but you know, it was an important time too. That was where I met Yann. He tried to rescue me but unfortunately I was recaptured. Then, by God's grace, we were reunited and now we are married. I am proud to be Madame Yann Caradoc." Yann beamed at me. My mind was racing. So finally the book had come to me! I knew its power. And it had a reverse spell! Morvan and Valenzin stayed an hour or two more, talking with Yann about sailing, the shipping trade, and its hazards. Then the conversation got more serious. They discussed measures against the Barbary Corsairs. Morvan mentioned that the French fleet was mounting more protection of trading vessels and the coastal villages and any corsairs captured were to be executed. I tried to keep an impassive face. I had been one of these, then through misfortunes I has been captured, changed by the book into a beautiful young woman, enslaved and sold. Only by some fortunate chances was I now free, and had become Yann's wife. I barely could sleep that night, now tempted again by the power of the book. I had thought it was utterly gone with the destruction of the oasis. And now here it was in my hands! When I was by myself the next morning I brought it out and stared at it for some minutes, my heart pounding, then tentatively opened it. It had useful healing spells, but it held the spell that had changed me, and one to reverse the effect. It was then that a difficulty hit me. I had picked up a reasonable amount of French and some local dialects, but I recognized, that, as Valenzin had mentioned, much of the book was Spanish. I would need to become fluent in Spanish to know what the spells did! Then an even more serious thought hit me. I had to sit down. I had now been a female for over a year. I was married to Yann. In his bed I had found pleasure, even ecstasy. If I used the reverse spell, I might get back to my previous male body. I could make my way back to Tunis and claim my rightful inheritance. But then I would lose my life with Yann, the new life I had begun to build. I could get back all my power and influence, but what would happen to the child growing in me if ever I took the chance to change back? And how would Yann feel if I left him? I looked at my small woman's hands, graceful and long fingered. I looked into the mirror. I saw a slim dark haired beauty that would be lost. I ran my hands down my body, my wide hips, my slim waist, only now thickening with the child I was bearing. I held my hands under my breasts, now slightly tender. I knew it gave Yann pleasure to caress me. I found pleasure in his caresses and lovemaking. I would lose that. And what about the child growing in me? I broke down crying with the indecision. That day, when Yann returned from the warehouse I knew that something was troubling him. Fortunately he did not notice my own inner turmoil. When I asked him about his day he would not talk at first, but finally I persuaded him to tell me what had happened. "I had thought Monsieur Huguet's business would be too small for them to bother, but I had a visit today from two of a local criminal gang, they call it the Seguin gang after the gang leader. They suggested that we needed some security, as they called it." He smiled ruefully. "Monsieur Huguet refused to pay them and drove them off the premises. But I am afraid that will not be enough. I have heard bad things about them. They prey on honest merchants. They will be back. "Nesrine, The business is doing well. Since I started with Monsieur Huguet our trade has almost doubled, but you see, this is a group of criminals who prey on honest merchants. They demand money. If the merchant or shopkeeper does not pay them, then there is damage to shops and warehouses." "Can't the city guard do anything? You should contact the magistrates!" He shook his head. "Perhaps, but there are rumors that some of the guard and even the magistrates are in the pay of the criminals." "So what are you going to do?" "That will depend on Monsieur Huguet. He was furious with the threat and he has hired some guards for the warehouse." I heard no more about it for some weeks. I was too busy with my own dilemma. I still did not know what I would do, but to keep my options open I needed to be able to read the spells. Fortunately, Claire told me of an old widow who had spoken Spanish and I started to learn Spanish from her. Her name was Marguerite, and she lived nearby. She was illiterate, but was able to speak both Spanish and French. So, from what I knew of French, I was able to work out most of the sounds that corresponded to the alphabet letters and in two months I could read the book, or at least the Spanish words in it, and I could tell what each spell was supposed to do. I hoped I was doing it correctly as the sounds and words of the actual spell corresponded to no language that I knew. Then one day, visiting Marguerite, I saw she was not well. She was coughing and when I felt her brow it was hot. "Marguerite, you are not well! You have a fever. Please, you should be resting." Ignoring her objections, I helped her take off her outer clothes and put her into bed. The next day she was worse. She could barely move and I stayed with her to give her water and some thin soup I had made. I thought of the book. From my translations I knew it had a spell, supposedly effective against fever, but I hesitated to use it. It could be be catastrophic if I was wrong. Next day she was even worse and I knew I had to help her or she would likely die. That evening, when I went to see her, I brought the book with me and turned to the page which contained a spell that was supposed to heal fevers. She was almost unconscious and I read it quietly so that she could hear it, but not any passers-by. I had closed the door but I wanted to be careful. It did not take long to read the spell. The style of the words reminded me of some of those in the transformation spell. I had heard these often enough, the last time to my great cost. That was the first time I had used the book. I sat by Marguerite, nervously pulling at my hair. A minute or two later I shook my head. It seemed that the spell had not worked. I wondered if the book had lost its effectiveness. Then she gave a sudden sharp cry. I wiped her brow. I was almost in tears with worry. It looked like she was going to die. But then, as I felt her, her brow seemed cooler and her hoarse breath became more even. In five minutes her eyes flickered open, and she grunted. I gave her some water and she tried to sit up. "Marguerite," I said. "Please you must rest," and she allowed me to push her back. I was amazed. It looked like the spell had actually worked! I watched her for an hour as she improved then I made her comfortable for the night. Back home I put the book in its hiding place. I returned the next morning with some more soup for her and watched as she slowly supped it. "Oh, I feel much better!" Her voice sounded stronger. "Nerine. I am grateful. I think I was about to die but your care has made me better." "I was glad to help, Marguerite." We were interrupted by a knock at the door and before I could see to it, it was pushed in by a dark featured, burly man. He glared at me. "Who are you?" "Marcel, it is a friend!" said Marguerite. I ignored his rudeness. "My name is Nerine, Nerine Caradoc. I am a friend of Marguerite. She has been very ill and I have tended her. I think she is now much better." His surly manner changed entirely. "You are the wife of Yann Caradoc? Doesn't he work for Robert Huguet? Then I am grateful, Madame. She is my sister. I had been away when I heard of her illness and I could not get here sooner. She is my only living relative and I care for her very much. She looked after me when our parents died. Oh, I am called Marcel, Marcel Guiscart." "Yes, Yann Caradoc is my husband. I have been learning Spanish from Marguerite." "She lived in Barcelona briefly. Her first husband was a Spaniard." "And your business, Monsieur Guiscart?" He gave an apologetic look. "Uh, I am the public executioner for the city. Do not look at me so, Madame. It is not a common profession, but one that is necessary to protect the citizens. I do not relish killing people, but these are criminals and malefactors. I carry out the sentences prescribed by law. I had been out working in the province but I have been called back to the city. It appears that I am to have some business." My heart was pounding. I had killed men in my past life, but to meet someone who did this as his work? He said he had business here, but I did not wish to ask him more about his trade. "I am surprised, Monsieur Guiscart," I finally said. "You... you look like an ordinary person." He gave a faint smile. "Thank you, Madame Caradoc, But I am not an ogre." Marcel was still there the next day when I visited Marguerite. She was much improved and actually moving about in her little house. Marcel took me aside as I was about to leave. "Madame Caradoc, I am very grateful. If it is in my power to help you anytime, please let me know." I shook my head and gave a faint smile. "I am sorry, Marcel. Or perhaps I should be glad that I don't need an executioner." He laughed and gave me a small bow. "Remember, any favor that I can do for you." I gave a small shudder. I hoped I would never need his help. I had another look at the book when I got home. I was now able to translate almost all of it except the actual words of the spells. Actually the book contained many spells but near its end was the spell that had changed me from a man, and right after that, was the spell that would undo the first. That would be the one I would use if I wanted to change back. I still did not know what I wanted to do, but I had almost decided that I would not use it. To change back now would cause too much difficulties. No, I shook my head. I loved Yann. I wanted to stay as his wife. Later that day at the market I heard a group talking excitedly. There was a grim look in some faces but open exultation in others. "What is the fuss?" I asked as I joined them. "It was two Barbary corsair ships which were attempting to raid our coast, but they were trapped in a bay by two French warships. One corsair ship was sunk but the other was captured. The surviving crew are to be tried down at the docks tomorrow." I did not know what to think, but I pretended I was pleased. I had been a corsair. Now it was different. I was part of a society that the corsairs preyed on. Now I knew the business that had brought Marcel back to the city. Yann had heard too, and the next day suggested we go down to the docks. The captain of the guard was there, the captains of the French ships, the mayor and Mazarin, the chief magistrate, all sitting at a long table. One by one the prisoners were led out onto the dock and made to kneel in front of them. All were wearing leg irons and their arms were bound behind their backs. There must have been two dozen or so surviving corsairs. I heard the magistrate read out the charges, of piracy. He could be barely heard above the vehement screams of the crowd. They had lived in fear of the corsairs for years. Now the corsairs were in their power and they would take their revenge. I felt my face flush as I watched the proceedings with some dismay. Some years ago I might have been one of these men. Then, as one turned, I felt a sudden horror. He was grown from when I last had seen him, but there was no doubt! It was Khalid, one of my younger brothers! He had been a boy when I had taken my last ill-fated voyage. Even now he was barely a man. I could not keep my eyes off him. Beneath his tanned face his face was drawn. He would know not to expect mercy. The verdict was not in doubt. It was no real trial at all. The men could expect no mercy. A gallows had already been set up behind them and from it dangled a dozen nooses. I saw Marcel standing at the scaffold. His head was partly covered by a black hood but I knew him from his build. The short so-called trial over, the first ten men were dragged to the gallows by the guards, stood on a high bench, and nooses pulled round their necks. At a signal from Mazarin, Marcel pulled the bench from under them and they dangled, wriggling and kicking as they choked. The crowd cheered, but I felt sick. I could barely watch and it must have been at least fifteen minutes before the last man became finally still. Even so, the bodies were left hanging. They would remain on the gallows overnight then the bodies would be set up on the foreshore or a headland as a warning to others. Mazarin looked quite jovial. "I am sorry," he called to the crowd. "We have only enough room for ten. We will have to execute the others in two days. More entertainment!" he announced to the cheers of the watchers. The rest of the corsairs, looking apprehensive at the sight of their comrades hanging at the ends of the ropes, were driven back into the cell. It would be their turn the next day. One of them was my brother Khalid. I just felt sick. To be true, public executions were common, and pirates, as the corsairs were labeled, were given no more lenient treatment than thieves and other criminals. As a corsair I might have expected the same thing if ever I had been captured. But the effect on my former family would be overwhelming. I had disappeared from my family, after my father had been killed on a raid. My mother would not have known of my uncle's treachery and he had disappeared too. Now yet another of her sons would be lost. I wondered what had possessed Khalid to take up a corsair's life. "You look a little unhappy, Nesrine?" said Yann as I took his arm. "Oh, it's just that I don't like to see men die." "Good riddance," he snorted. " You are too soft. They prey on the poor people of many countries. These were the type of people who tried to enslave both of us. Don't tell me you have forgotten that! The world is better without them. It's just a pity we couldn't have them all strung up at the same time. But it will be the others' turn in a couple of days. We can go to the jail later tonight and have a closer look at them. Maybe there will be some of Walid's group there. I'd like to see them especially swinging from ropes." I shook my head. "I doubt it, Walid's men would have been all killed at the oasis." But I had a sudden idea. "Yes, let's go there later." I could barely wait to get home and when Yann was fully asleep that night I eased out from the bed and quietly brought out the book from its hiding place. I had practiced my Spanish and I had identified the spell that made men into women. Its words were not in Spanish, but I was now familiar with the sounds of the Roman alphabet and I thought I could read one of the spells. I only hoped I could use it without being noticed. I could not risk letting anyone see me use the spell, not even Yann. I would not be able to save Khalid but after I read him the spell he would fall deeply unconscious, one of the spell's first effects. That would spare him at least the agonies of his hanging. That evening we pushed our way through the crowd of citizens at the jail. The crowd were sneering and jeering at the captives and throwing rubbish at them. Marcel was standing in a corner, watching his next victims through slitted dark eyes. I cringed when he gave me a nod and a smile. All of the captives were in an iron cage in a large cell and their limbs chained but they were keeping as far from the bars as they could. All were dirty and smeared with rotten fruit, vegetables and even excrement. It took me a moment or two to find Khalid. He was sitting on the floor, a blank look on his face, but every few seconds he swallowed in fear. I dared not expose the book but I had memorized the sounds of the transformation spell and held the book in my right hand, hidden under my clothing. I especially watched Marcel, but he was preoccupied in a conversation with a jailer. I stood as close to Khalid as I could and waited until Yann had moved away from me to look at some other prisoners. As loudly as I dared, I whispered the first few words to him. A citizen pushed beside me and I had to stop until he had moved out of earshot and I could recite the next few words. At one point Khalid looked at me in puzzlement but his head sank to his chest again. It took two more minutes before I was able to recite all of the spell and could move back. No one except Khalid would have heard all of the words. Finally Yann had had enough and motioned for me to go but I pretended that I wanted to watch longer. At first I thought that the spell had not worked, and I shook my head in disappointment. My poor brother! I would not be able to save him the agonies! But then I saw him shake his head, hunch over and shiver, in spite of the stifling heat in the cell. Yann had had enough and began pulling me impatiently to go home when I saw Khalid gave another shiver. I thought back to when I had seen the spell used in Walid's compound on fresh captures, and I especially remembered my own reaction when the spell had been used on me. The shivering was the very first sign of the spell working. In a few minutes he would be deeply unconscious. It was a small relief. He would still die, but he would not suffer. Khalid was now shaking violently and the other captives were looking at him in contempt. I suppose they thought he was trembling in fear. He had even attracted the attention of the jailer. It was time to leave. I dared not go to the jail the next day, but when Yann came home that evening he looked at me expectantly. "Ready?" "For what?" "To go and see the other executions. Tonight's entertainment!" I had a momentary flash of resentment, and a more lingering disappointment, that Yann would think the impending execution of Khalid would be entertainment, but he was unaware of my relationship to him. As for the other corsairs, I only felt passing sympathy for them. I felt very nervous, but as Yann expected me to go with him, I took a deep breath and readied myself to go out. Khalid would now be unconscious but that would not spare him. I expected Marcel would carry the unconscious body out to the scaffold with the other condemned men and hang him just like them. We were held back by the crush of the crowd and when we got there the corsairs were already standing on the scaffold, the ropes already round their necks, Marcel standing ready for the magistrate's signal. In dread, I looked at them but I did not see Khalid. Yann had noticed too. "Where is the other?" I heard him ask. "There should be nine." He pointed to a group of men over by the jail, agitatedly discussing something. "Something strange, but I don't know what." It looked like a serious discussion, but at length Mazarin and Dirac, the captain of the guard, came over and looked at the condemned men. I did not like the magistrate. He was a fat ugly man and it was rumored that he was corrupt, but he had the King's authority. He held up his hand for silence and the noise of the crowd subsided. Then, as he nodded and jerked down with his hands the execution went on schedule for the others. To the renewed jeering and cheering of the crowd, Marcel pulled the support away and the men were left kicking at the ends of the ropes. This time, in the cheering crowd, I had to turn my eyes away. Yann was cheering too. "Good riddance!" he said. After a few minutes watching the men's dying struggles he went over to the head jailer. "I thought there was another one? Did he die?" The man shook his head and grimaced. "He is no longer there, but in his place, chained, in his clothes, there is a girl." I almost felt Yann's recoil. He shook his head in disbelief. "You mean one of the corsairs was a woman?" The jailer spread his hands. "It is a mystery. Yesterday I could have sworn it was a man, but I assure you, this morning it is definitely a woman, a pretty one too. Strangely, she is unconscious and all attempts to wake her have failed. It is a mystery. Maybe it is witchcraft. The priest should investigate it." I had a sudden horrible feeling and I began to shake. If the priest thought witchcraft was involved then Khalid might face burning at the stake, an even worse death than hanging. "Could she have been a young woman who had been captured by the corsairs?" I asked. "Then she would be innocent." "We will have to find that out. We will question her when she wakes up. If she does wake up." He emphasized the 'if''. "She appears to be very deeply unconscious. Maybe she will die." I knew from past experience that the spell made men deeply unconscious. I had seen its effects before and I had actually gone through them, as if I would ever forget that trauma. Some older men died, but most young healthy men awoke as girls and soon recovered their physical heath. Their mental states took longer to adjust. "Did the other captives see anything?" Yann asked. The jailer grinned and pointed in the direction of the gallows at the corsairs, now all hanging limply. "Well now, if these scum had seen something, they are not in any condition to tell now, are they? Besides, no doubt they all spoke Arabic and I don't know any and I couldn't have understood them anyway." During my time in Marseille I had tried to downplay anything about my past, but to my horror, Yann interjected. "Nerine here, now she was a slave in North Africa, taken by the corsairs. So was I, briefly, but she was there longer and she knows some Arabic." "I know a little. I am originally from Spain, but I was a captive in North Africa," I lied, giving again the false background I had given the priest. Mazarin had now come over to us and he looked me up and down, suspicion oozing from his every greasy pore. Yann shook his head and laughed. "Have no fear," he said. "We are good French citizens and Christians." "So we have a woman? I am tempted to execute her anyway. She was with corsairs," said Mazarin. "She may have been their prisoner, some innocent," I insisted. To my relief this seemed to make Mazarin have second thoughts and I had an idea. "Excellency, if the girl wakes, call me and I will see what I can find out from her," I said. "Yes, I suppose so," he grunted. That night I barely slept. I would have to be very careful. I hoped I had not taken too much of a risk. I dared not let any of my own past be known, and the book would have to remain secret. Khalid had heard my spell the day before, and would wake up as a woman very soon. I would have to contact her immediately she woke up. I had to make plans. The next morning a messenger came from Mazarin, to the effect that the new woman appeared to be waking up and that they wanted me to act as an interpreter. "I had better come with you," said Yann. By the time I got to the prison it was obvious that she had woken up. Even outside I heard whimpers and screams from a cell, no doubt as she discovered her new female body. She was huddled in a corner, bedraggled, dirty and covered with perspiration. Her face was blotchy and tear stained, but fortunately Khalid had been to young to grow a beard. That would make the deception more believable. "Please let me in the cell. I will talk to her. Yann, can you stay outside? She is distraught and I can deal with her better." "Are you sure? The girl looks like a wild animal." "I will be safe. She is chained." I went into the cell and kneeled down beside her. She smelled offensive but I had no choice. Without doubt the figure below me was a woman. She had lost some height, and weight, but beneath her dirty rags I detected breasts, a slim waist and broad hips. She stared at me and began to scream again. I slapped her face and she glared at me in fright and anger. At least she was not screaming. "Look," I whispered in Arabic, "If you want to survive, you must do exactly as I say. If not, you will die! Just like the others, at the end of a rope. "You are turned into a woman. Do not ask how, just accept it!" I commanded. "You must pretend that you have always been female. Insist that you were captured and enslaved by the corsairs. If you do not, you will you will probably be executed, just as your companions have been. You dare not let them even think you were a man. That would be witchcraft and you could even be burned at the stake. I will try to help you, but you must work with me. Do all that I say! Do you understand?" I could not tell from her face. It held a mixture of terror, despair and bewilderment, but then she finally nodded. I then spoke louder, still in Arabic so the jailer could hear me. "Poor thing, to be taken by these slavers and even dressed in men's clothing. We will soon have you in proper female clothes." She shook her head. "But how did I come to be changed to a woman?" she muttered. "I told you not to ask!" I hissed. I could not tell her about the book. "Just count yourself lucky. You might just survive if you do as I tell you. If anyone asks, say that you were Sicilian. Trust me!" I rose and asked to be let out of the cell. The jailer and magistrate looked at me expectantly. "I don't know how it was thought she could ever have been a man. Someone must have had really bad eyes. But she tells me that when a child she was kidnapped by corsairs from her village in Sicily. She was kept as a household slave until she was sold to the corsairs. She was to be used to serve the men. So, actually when the corsair ship was captured, you rescued her. She is grateful, but obviously apprehensive of her future among strange people in a strange country. Unfortunately she has forgotten all her native language and only knows Arabic now." "I think this is all very strange," grumbled the magistrate. "I cannot believe the crew of the vessel that captured the corsair failed to recognize a woman." "It may have been the men's clothes, and after all, France is an enemy of the Barbary States. She was afraid of being raped by her French rescuers and perhaps disguised herself." I could barely stop trembling myself while Mazarin sat down, stroked his beard and looked at me. "At least she is not a danger to us but what now to do with her? If she was originally Sicilian and a captive that makes things awkward." "Please, I know her language. I could oversee her and teach her French. And then she could find work." The magistrate looked at me suspiciously and then relented. "Yes, I suppose so. I do not want to have a girl executed, and she is no danger to us anyway." He made a decision. "All right, I agree. But you must bring her before me regularly so that I can check on her and make sure she is learning to be French. And make sure it is done well. Your own French is still too much accented. What is her name?" "It was Nousa in Arabic, but I think she should be given a completely French name. How about Jeanne?" "Good choice! I agree." He turned from the jailer. "Bring out the girl from the cell. And you, Madame Caradoc," he looked at me severely over his glasses, "see that in the future she is dressed properly, like a woman." The jailer went into the cell and pulled on the girl's arm. Her feet dragged a bit but allowed herself to be led out. The magistrate pointed to her. " Tell her what has been decided." In Arabic, I told the new Jeanne of what we had decided, warning her with my eyes, and just to be sure, slipping in a warning to be compliant. Her eyes flickered when she heard her new name and I saw the beginning of a tear at her eye. "Thank you, sir," I said to the magistrate, bowing. "I will do as you wish." I led Jeanne out of the cell, again warning her of her danger. Yann just stared at us and wrinkled his nose when I brought her to him. He listened to me skeptically when I told him that the girl had been a slave of the corsairs, that I had felt sorry for her because I had experienced the same thing, and that I was going to help her adjust to freedom. Yann looked at me, a slightly exasperated look on his face. He shook his head slowly and sighed ruefully. "So now we even have a servant. My household grows! A good thing my business is doing well." He complained, but I knew he would not seriously object. I squeezed his arm. "She will be a help when I have the baby," I said. "Besides, she has been through the same trials as us. It is our duty to help her." Yann put his arm around me. "Now, I suppose I have to get to work. I will have to work even harder to support a servant," he grinned. "You will come with me," I told Jeanne, and I led her back to our house. When we got into the house and out of anyone's hearing, I repeated what I had told her, but she still protested. "But I was a man! What has happened to me?" She may have been devastated but I did not dare tell her the role of my book. If she ever let slip that I had a magic book, her life, and my own, would be in danger. "Your life as a man is over, gone. Accept it!" I insisted. "I only see a woman before me and so will others, but if you keep insisting, the magistrate may take you at your word and you will join the others on the gallows." I pointed down to the harbor and the corpses. I had the satisfaction of seeing her go white. 'Now, first," I went to a cupboard and rummaged in it. "You can start with women's clothes." I passed her a skirt, a blouse and a shawl." You will strip, then wash yourself thoroughly and put these on!" She could go barefoot until winter, as I did. My house had smooth flagstones for a floor. She hesitated, but at my stern look she took had second thoughts. I watched her tremble as she removed the dirty ragged men's clothes she was wearing. I saw her squirming. "Ah yes, the needs of nature. You know how women do it? There is a pot there, in that small room. You will have to sit on it!" I watched her as she sat down on the pot. She was blushing but she had no choice. "Now stand up! Straight!" I examined her. The spell had run its effects on her, as it had on so many. She was filthy and bedraggled, but she was a real beauty. Her breasts were high and prettily shaped, and each was set off with a prominent dark nipple and areola. Her waist was very slim, contrasting with her wide hips. Her legs were long and nicely shaped. Her face was blotchy, but when that wore off it would be a pretty, beautiful face, with full lips, a small nose and deep-set eyes under finely arched eyebrows. Her skin was a pale gold, just a shade lighter than my own. She did not like me studying her. "Please don't look at me." "Why not? I am a woman. You are a woman. You should get use to your new body. It is a beautiful one. You should welcome it. I am going to help you." I thought back to when all of my men and I had been changed into women. We had been kept naked to make us get used to our female bodies that much quicker. "Now, you are filthy," I scolded. "You should wash yourself. Your hair too!" I passed her a basin of water and some soap and made sure she washed all over her body. I saw her hesitate at her breasts but I was adamant about washing them. It was the same with her groin and between her legs. Her lips trembled and she frequently dissolved in tears as her hands ran over her new unfamiliar body, but I had no pity. I had had to go through the same experiences, and there had a whip to drive me on. I passed her a cloth to dry herself and then a comb. "Here, comb your hair. It is straggly, but you will have to let it grow. You can wear a cap or kerchief until it does. Most women do that anyway. Now, put on your new clothing!" I watched as she pulled on the blouse and skirt. She was miserable but now she looked reasonably presentable. The blotchiness on her face was passing. "All right, now you must learn woman's work. That is, looking after a house, the mending, baking and cooking. You can start right away. I will show you how to make bread." I was bullying her, but it was for her own survival, and Yann and I could not afford to have someone laze a