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

THE SHIP, THE OASIS, THE BOOK, THE SLAVE. Part IV. By GENEVA Nesrine, her family and friends, in 17th century France, make preparations to flee the country because of repression for their Huguenot beliefs. Her magic book plays a part in their escape. This story will stand on its own, but it would be better to read parts I, II, and III for background. START. Marseille, France, the late 17th century Summoning them into the kitchen I discussed the grave situation with my two maids Berthe and Henriette and my cook Cecile. We were trying to plan our meals and how to handle the extra people in the house. I sighed at the thought of how we would manage the next week. If it was like the week just gone by when the billets had been forced on us, our reserves of food, our hams and other cured meats, our flour, rice, dried beans and peas and our wine supplies would be totally used up. Besides, the soldiers, all dozen of them, seemed to be everywhere in the house, interfering with its running, lounging around, strewing food leftovers over every surface, and spitting on the floor. My husband Yann had had this house built for us, and we had been in it over twenty years of our married life. I was proud of my house and I was furious at the amount of damage these louts were causing, much of it quite deliberate. Not only that, they were rude and overbearing. From speaking to other Huguenots like us who had also had unwelcome billets, it looked as if the soldiers had been ordered to be as obnoxious as possible. They had made lewd suggestions not only to our two maids and our cook, but to me and my daughter Rachelle. I could take the abuse, but I was furious at hearing it directed to my daughter, and once I had to physically restrain Yann. The soldiers were provoking us quite deliberately. I was in two minds about this. We were not alone. The rest of our Huguenot community was similarly being harassed more and more rigorously, yet our teachings were to turn the other cheek! I think Yann had more patience than I did. I thought back to my time as a young corsair. I would have rushed on them with my scimitar and taken the heads of those who tormented us. These days and that existence were long past. Now I had to bear the crude behaviour. We dared not object at all. That would be the excuse the authorities needed to accuse us of sedition, disobedience or treason or whatever they could think up to make our situation more precarious. I sighed. We were comfortable, but not rich and with another week of this I might not be able to pay the wages of Berthe, Henriette and Cecile any longer. It was getting so that I thought of even sending Rachelle to a safer house. I did not like the way some of the soldiers had looked at her. Downstairs I could hear the sound of raucous singing and laughter. The forced billeting was just another turn of the screw to break our spirit and force us into obedience to the King Louis' wishes to become Catholic like him. Next morning I went with Cecile to the market for food, apprehensive of how much it would cost me. Normally the market was very busy, with chattering customers and vendors shouting their wares, with rapid bargaining and haggling over prices too. This time I noticed right away that the marketplace was not as busy and the atmosphere was strangely subdued. Some townspeople were huddled in groups and talking. It did not take long to find out the reason. A new fever was going round the city. Apparently it had started about a week before, supposedly in the customers at one of the taverns near the harbor, but was now spreading rapidly. I must have been so taken up with our unwanted guests that I had not heard earlier. Fevers and illnesses were not unusual here in Marseille. Ships arriving at the port from all over the Mediterranean and further brought in all sorts of illnesses. With growing alarm I heard that it had already caused some deaths, although it did not appear to be a version of the plague, or smallpox. Next day we were at one of the stalls in the market buying some vegetables from the stall owner. Usually my bargaining was good humored, but I now had to watch my money more carefully and I needed his best price. However, this time he seemed more listless and his face was pale but developing red spots. I noticed his voice was more and more unsteady. "Monsieur Charpentier, are you well?" I asked. "Madame Caradoc, I....." Then his voice tailed off and he tried to grasp a table. He missed and slid to the cobbles, trembling. I gave a small cry, taken up by others and, "It's the fever!" I heard. Soon there were many other citizens crowded round him and fortunately some men lifted him up and laid him on a bench. He was gasping and flushed. I gestured for Cecile to stand back. "Cecile, there is nothing we can do here. We'd better hurry back home in case we are affected." By another day it was obvious this fever was serious and spreading rapidly and the safety of my own family then my employees was first in my mind. That night I brought all of my family together and, pretending it was some nonsense piece I had heard, I read them a spell from my magic book. The description said it was supposed to heal fevers and I hoped that I could use it as a preventative. Afterwards,Yann looked at me quizzically. "Nesrine, What was that?" Especially since we became Huguenots, I had tried to be as honest as possible at all times but I dared not tell the truth about the book and its background. Especially my own background! Yann may have been aware of the book's existence but I had kept him ignorant of its power and its scope. The very last thing I would want would be for him to discover that a certain spell from the book had once been used on me. "Yann," I asked, "please do not ask. Trust me. This will hopefully save us all from severe illness, possibly even our lives." He looked at me, puzzled and a little concerned. "Please, Yann," I asked again and he shrugged and left me. The next day when Yann was at work I used the spell on Berthe, Henriette and Cecile. This time I had set the words to an old Tunisian ditty that I remembered and I said it was just a folk song that I had heard. Indeed it worked! As the fever grew in intensity over the days, more and more of Marseille's inhabitants became sick, but none of those I had read the spell to became ill at all. A day after that I had my sister Jeanne read it to her family. Then, as I gauged the course of the disease, I gradually read the spell to other families of our small Huguenot community. I sang the words to them, pretending it was some unusual song from the Levant or further that I had heard. Many were mildly curious, but I brushed over any questions. I could not reach all the inhabitants of Marseille. As well as physically impossible, there would have been dangerous questions raised about the spell. I grew sad and worried at the rising death toll. Many sick were dying simply from lack of food or the effects of the fever on individuals already suffering from malnutrition or some other malady. Something needed to be done and that night I spoke to Yann. "This fever is affecting many people. They do not have enough care and shelter. Yann, could you spare one of your warehouses to shelter poor indigents who are ill with the fever? It would mean shifting some goods to another, but we should do something." "Yes, that can be done. But who will look after the sick?" "Yann, I can do it, so can Jeanne. Our servants can attend to the house. Rachelle too. There are other women, Huguenots like us who I think I can persuade to tend the sick. It's our duty to help them, and maybe it might convince the authorities that we Huguenots are valuable members of the community." I thought it would also help to keep Rachelle away from the billets "We shall see, but I will clear out the smaller of the warehouses tomorrow." "Thank you, Yann!" I kissed him. The fever had an unexpected beneficial effect on my household. With the apparent inability of the authorities to stem the fever and the increasing plight of the poorer citizens, unrest in parts of the city increased and, as the ranks of the soldiers who patrolled these areas to keep order began to get depleted by the fever, some rioting and unrest started. One day our billets simply were withdrawn with no notice to us. We had some breathing space but I worried that they might come back when the crisis was over. One day, about three weeks after the fever arose I was in the warehouse as usual. I had actually spent many days there tending to the sick. The hours were beginning to take their toll on me and, this time, I felt very tired, not surprisingly. I had been on my feet for hours, and my back was sore with continually bending over the sick. I put my hands at the back of my waist and pushed my shoulders back to ease the stiffness. I caught the eye of Jeanne and she gave me a wry look. She had been spoon-feeding another of the patients. "I think we've done enough for the day," I said, brushing down the apron over my skirt. "I agree, Nerine, I'm exhausted too." At least it was not a killing fever for most. Those who caught it first became covered with spots and were bedridden for at least two weeks but often recovered if they had been healthy to begin with. With others, those who had suffered from malnourishment, or had been weakened by other disease, it was more lethal. Especially among the poor families it caused a lot of hardship. I was pleased that use of our warehouse for their care had given relief to many. In all, we had about thirty or so sick people there that night. Not only Jeanne, but my two married daughters, Marie and Lucille, were helping and four other women from our Huguenot community. I peered out the door into the gathering gloom. Reluctantly, I told myself I was getting too tired. I had been there many hours already. I should not weaken myself. I would feel guilty about leaving the sick there, but I knew that the other women could look after the sick as well as I could. There was little use my getting too tired to properly care for them. Fortunately, even after the three weeks none of my family had caught the fever. Maybe the healing spell from my magic book had kept its effect, but I watched all carefully, just in case. I rubbed my eyes to get the tiredness out of them, at least temporarily. My eyelids itched. Jeanne stretched again and grinned at me. "All right, let's get home, before our husbands wonder what has happened to us." We had shrugged on our cloaks when one patient gave an especially loud moan and I went to check on her. I waved to Jeanne. "You leave. I'll only be another minute, I promise." She waved back and left. I looked at the patient. It was a woman called Moisson. She looked very sick I wiped her worn- looking brow and gave her some water. I had a parting word with one of the women left in charge. " Madame Moisson does not look well!" I was about to leave when I almost collided with a dark clad figure at the door. I recognized him as the priest, Father Guilbert, from the nearby Catholic church. I gave him a small curtsy. "Good evening, Father, can I help you?" "May I come in, Madame Caradoc?" I stood aside and gestured for him to enter. "By all means, but you had better keep close to the door. The sick are over there. I have found that contact with a sick person is risky." "I must try to do my offices to help and comfort them, Madame Caradoc. But I just saw you leaning over that woman there." "Yes, but so far I do not seem to have caught the fever, Father. I hope I will not now. I think too that the worst of this sickness in the city is over." He looked out over the people lying on the makeshift cots, counting them. "I think you are right. There are much fewer new cases and the other shelter reports fewer new cases too. Ah, I wish there were more places set aside for the sick. Your family had been generous to offer this place. I have just been visiting the other one and I came to see how these sick people here were faring. I see there are still more than thirty, Madame Caradoc. How will they do?" "I think, Father, that by now most are on the way to recovery. With two, I am not so sure. Fortunately not many have died but these people here are weakened. The Moisson woman over there," I pointed. "She looks very sick. I am afraid for her. But maybe even by another week most will be able to go to their own homes." "Yes, for the men. Their families will need them well to earn money for food." I nodded. "Yes, I have tried to make sure the families have enough food. It would have been difficult with these billets that were forced on us, but now we can manage." I hoped my comment might reduce some of the pressure on us. I looked to his face for any reaction but his mouth only tightened. He would have known that the billets were imposed on us as pressure on the Huguenot community to convert to Catholicism. "Yes, Father Guilbert, they are getting better, but they need to be home." "Madame, I would like to say a prayer for their recovery." "As you wish, Father Guilbert." I stood respectfully aside while he prayed. When he had finished he raised his eyebrows at me. "I see you and other women did not cross yourself, Madame Caradoc." "No, Father, I think you know that these ladies, I and my family are Huguenots." "You know that the king wishes all French to be Catholics?" He looked at me reproachfully. I shrugged. "I am a loyal subject of King Louis, but I do not share his, or your, Catholic beliefs." "Yet you care for these people?" I frowned, but otherwise I tried not to show I was irritated by his words. "Father, I am a Huguenot. I am a Christian and it is my Christian duty to care for others." He nodded. "Yes, you are right. Forgive me, Madame Caradoc. Ah, we may not agree on matters of religion but..." He hesitated. "You and your sister Jeanne, your whole family, and your community have helped the sick devotedly. That is very worthy of you all." "Thank you, Father." I reasoned that was as much of a concession that I was likely to get. "Now, I must take my leave of you. I've been here most of today and I'm very tired." I gave him a small curtsy and went out into the dusk. I felt slightly irritated by his words. I shook my head and sighed. Our religious differences and mutual suspicions made for a great divide in French society. I told myself that at least we had been tolerated after the Nantes Edict, about a century before. I hoped that the Edict would continue. Yet, there had been a gradually increasing pressure on us, there were rumors of more severe restrictions, and we had had these billets imposed on us. Yann was back from the main warehouse when I reached home. Berthe had laid out supper for him and, hungry despite my exhaustion, I even took some supper myself, with a small glass of wine while we talked about the events of the day. His business was doing well. He now owned three warehouses and was part owner of a ship. Recently too he had established a small factory for weaving. It has started as an enterprise to make ship's sails but had expanded into other canvas and types of cloth which was increasingly sought after for its quality and sturdiness. When he asked about my day I told him about what Father Guilbert had said. He just shrugged slightly. "Nothing much we can do, Nesrine. We are good French citizens even though we do not share the king's opinions. We work hard. We give work to many." For most people I used the name Nerine. Yann, when we were alone, still used the name Nesrine, that he had first known me by, when we were both captives in Walid's slave compound in the North African desert. I shook my head." Unfortunately the King thinks that he and France mean the same thing, so I have heard. He has been king a long time, and he has almost absolute powers. Perhaps that affects his thinking." Berthe came to clear away the table and I thanked her. She was learning well. Every so often I took some some female waif off the streets and trained her as a maid. Some attempts had been unsuccessful but most girls had appreciated the training, and no doubt, that they were well fed and housed. Some eventually went to be servants and maids in other houses although most left to get married. Many of them, seeing our modest and temperate Huguenot ways of life and our success, had become Huguenots too. I was pleased by that but I had did not insisted they do. Henriette, our other maid, was also off the streets but had remained Catholic. I myself had mixed feeling about matters of religion. I thought back to my own fantastic story. Once, in Tunis, I had been a young man and a Muslim. Through an incredible set of events both my brother Khalid and I had become women in Christian France. Also, my sister Jeanne had been my younger brother Khalid. Many years before, with the help of the transformation spell from my magic book, I had changed him to save him from being executed as a corsair. The magic book had had enormous effects on my life, both a curse and a blessing. As far as I knew it had originally been owned by Walid's wife Amira. She had used it to change young European captives from corsair raids, not only females but males as well, into beautiful slave girls. Amira spent some time training them to sell in the slave markets for harems and got good prices. In my greed and foolishness I had tried to usurp Walid's operations, unsuccessfully, and in revenge Amira had read a transformation spell to me, changing me to the woman I am. Then, through a fantastic turn of events, I had eventually gained possession of the book. But, by the time it came into my possession, my life was too well reestablished. I was married to Yann, pregnant and happy with my lot as a French chatelaine and it was too late to use it to change back to my former self. Not that I wanted to either! My life had taken too drastic a turn and I had come to like my new female body and the life I was making with Yann. The book's spells were still effective, still powerful. I had occasionally used the various spells, I hoped, only for good. I kept the book safely hidden in a compartment in my jewel box. Yann and I had actually been married in a Catholic church, but soon after my first child was born Yann and I had heard an itinerant preacher from Geneva talk and, impressed by his arguments, we had decided to join the local Huguenot community. Soon after, my sister Jeanne and her husband had joined too. We were very much a minority here in Marseille. The largest centers of Huguenots in France were in the north and west of the country. Next day, when I had given the maids their instructions for the day I paid another visit to see the sick. "How are they doing?" I asked. One of the women shook her head. "Most are much better, Madame Caradoc. Unfortunately we had another death in the night. It was Bernardette Moisson." "That poor woman." I shook my head. "She did not look well last night. Where is she?" "Her body has already been taken away for burial." I sighed. "I believe she has she has a young son. Her husband died earlier. I wonder what has happened to the boy?" The family had been poor and malnourished and sickness hit poor families very hard. "I don't know, madame." Later that day, back at home I was planning our meals for the next week when I heard a knock at the door. Henriette answered the door and I heard her talking. In a few moments she came to me. "Excuse me, madame, there is a boy at the door. He asks to see you. I think it is the Moisson boy." "Oh, Henriette, please bring him in." The boy looked as if he was about fifteen. His features were pinched and his clothes were dirty and ragged. "Madame Caradoc, you tended my mother. For that I am grateful." I was gratified by his thanks, but I felt there was something on his mind. He also looked as if the cares of the world were on him. I was tempted to embrace him to comfort him but I did not know how he would take it. "I am sorry to hear that she died. I suppose she will have been buried now." There were few individual funerals for the dead. Most of them, especially the poorer ones, were hurriedly buried. "Yes, Father Guilbert helped at her burial. It was over by the east of the city, in a pit!" Tears filled his eyes. I knew that any dead indigents were put in a communal grave. "What are you going to do?" I wished I had not asked, as he broke down. "I have nothing," he whispered. "Would there be work I could do at Monsieur Caradoc's warehouse? My heart went out to the boy. I would have to help him. I studied him. "Your name?" "It's Marc, please Madame." "How old are you, Marc?" "I am sixteen, madame." I looked at him. He looked much younger. Perhaps it was growing up with a poor and limited diet that had made him so late to mature. "Marc, my husband has all the help he needs at the warehouse, but I think I could use some help here in this house. Would you like to work as a servant here? You will be given clothing and fed. Unfortunately I can only afford a small wage." The billeting had used up most of our money. I was pleased when his face lit up. "Oh, Madame Caradoc, that would be very kind of you." "Then, Marc, you will now stay with us. There is a large alcove in our cellar. It is warm and dry. You can use that. I will have Berthe set up a cot for you, and a screen." The boy looked dirty, disreputable and half starved. He would need much care. Instruction and training for his duties could wait a little. First I had Berthe fill a basin with warm water with a brush, a piece of soap and a dry cloth and set it before him in a small store room. I shooed the maids away and, before I closed the door on him, I gave him orders. "Marc, first, you will remove all your dirty clothes, completely! Then you will wash yourself, head to toe, your hair too. There is a clean cloth to dry yourself with! I will see what fresh clothes I can find for you." I looked down at his dirty bare feet. "Yes, I'll give you shoes too." I hoped that I would be able to find shoes. If not, it would have to be clogs. I wondered how well he would wash himself. Many of our citizens were rather casual about washing but in my own household I insisted that all wash each day. I was gratified when I heard a lot of splashing behind the door. I would not have to stand over him. "Have you dried?" I called later. "Yes, Madame Caradoc." "Then cover yourself! I have clothes for you." I opened the door a crack and threw in some clothes. A few minutes later, looking slightly embarrassed, he came out of the room. I checked him to make sure he had washed completely. He still looked pinched, but at least he was clean. His skin looked pink from scrubbing. "Marc, you need to let me comb your hair." His hair may have been cleaner, but it was wet and it took a lot of work to get the comb through it. I even had to cut some matted pieces out from it. When we were done I took him to the kitchen and had Berthe give him some food. As I expected, he gulped it down. I would forgive his manners this time, but I expected proper manners too from my servants. When he was finished eating I gave him a tour of the house, showed where he would sleep and introduced him to all my family and servants. After that, Marc settled in well. He was not quite grown but he was nimble and was useful for many of the tasks around the house. He had not had any schooling but I thought that all should be able to read and write. So, beginning in a week, just as I had insisted with all of my family and the maids, I set aside some time of the day when either I or my youngest daughter Rachelle could teach him to read and write. There was a time when I had been fluent in Arabic and had to learn French. I flattered myself that I had learned it well. I also made sure Marc learned proper manners and demeanor. Soon, I would have him learn to count.That would help him if he decided to leave our service to work elsewhere. At least I would have given him good training. He was a quick learner and to give him more training I occasionally sent him to work for Yann at the warehouse. I decided that in a few months I would see if some of Yann's business contacts could take him to learn some trade. Marc was Catholic and continued to go to the Catholic church each Sunday. This went on until a new bishop, Marchette, was appointed over the see. Afterwards, suddenly, Marc began to attend our Huguenot meetings and services. I noticed that he paid particular attention to our preacher and to our conversations after the services. He also asked me many questions about our faith and how we saw our role in a Catholic country. I was curious about this and I asked him about his sudden conversion but he seemed unwilling to discuss it and I did not pursue it. I felt pleased that he was paying great attention to all that was being said and discussed. In this great uncertainty and its worries we had one pleasant event approaching, our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Over the pan of a month I became very much occupied with Cecile doing the planning for a feast for family and friends. Berthe and Henriette were involved too. In addition to as the usual housework chores there were the preparations for the celebrations. I shook my head and smiled to myself. To think that Yann and I had been married twenty-five years! It did not seem that long, and yet I looked round me and thought of all the people and things that now made up my life. There were many. First, I thought of our six children. Our older sons Jean and Michel were out with their father, working at the warehouse. My two older daughters, Marie and Lucille were now married with their own beginning families. My younger son Robert was still at school and Rachelle was occupied in her room, no doubt looking over her gowns to see what she would wear for the occasion. We were fortunate that our hard work, thrift, and yes, luck, had made our family prosperous and we had a good life. Yann had inherited the business but he had done well and built it up over the years with his hard work and innovation. With a little self- congratulation too I knew I had had a part in it. With a lingering pang of sorts, I remembered another life, where as a boy, my own father in Tunis had instilled an excellent business sense in me, his intention being for me to succeed him. I grimaced slightly, thinking of the fantastic train of events that had made me, a male, a Tunisian businessman, merchant and corsair, into a respectable Frenchwoman married to a prosperous French businessman. But the change had happened long ago now, another life, another time, another world almost. I put my mind again to the things at hand. The cook, my two maids and I had been busy. Now the preliminaries for our family gathering next week were almost ready. Attending our celebration there would be my family, of course. As well, there would be my sister Jeanne and her husband Alphonse, and their five children. Too, there would be some business acquaintances of Yann, the Huguenot pastor and some close friends from our Huguenot church. I heard a noise at the door and before I could open it my son Robert, home from school, burst in. I bent my cheek to his and he gave me a dutiful kiss then I noticed a scrape on his face. "What's this?" I asked. I saw he wanted to be off, but he saw my face. "It was a group of youths. They taunted me as a Huguenot and one hit me, but I was able to run off and elude them." I hugged him. I wondered if that was part of the harassment, or just boys' mischief. "That was the right thing to do!' Just be careful tomorrow!" I shooed him into the kitchen to wash his face. I heard a half-hearted cry of protest from Cecile, that he had picked some food off a plate. I smiled indulgently. He was a growing boy and had a good, even ravenous, appetite. It was just getting dark when I heard Yann and Jean at the door. I took off my apron and brushed back the hair from my face, giving myself a quick check in the mirror and straightened my clothing. I liked what I saw. I was just fortyfive, but my face was almost unlined and, although my dark hair might have an occasional silver thread in it, it was still lustrously dark. That transformation spell that had been cast on me all those years ago in the North African desert had made me into a beautiful woman and its magic still held. My heart lifted with the beaming smile my husband gave me and I clutched his shoulders as he kissed me, feeling him pressing to me. Was still thinking of wonderful love the previous night. We were busy and frequently tired, but I still got a thrill at his naked body, and I am sure he did at mine. I was glad the spell had given me a slim waist and kept my bust high and shapely. Jean grinned at us. One time he might have been embarrassed at out frequent shows of affection, but now, as he himself had come into maturity, it amused him. I thought it a good example that we should show our continuing love for each other, that we had not become so used to each other that we no longer showed open affection. Last night as Yann held me in bed he had kissed the back of my neck, then slid his hand up my nightgown to cup my breast running a finger round my hardening areola. Soon our nightclothes were off and he was pinching my breasts as I liked as we kissed deeply. I had slid down and taken him in my mouth, teasing and stimulating him. It had not taken much before he was ready for me and, on my back, I had pulled him to me and guided him into me. I had another small pleasurable shiver as I remembered how he had thrust into me, my head back and my fingers almost raking his back then our simultaneous gasps and cries as we climaxed. I mouthed a kiss at him and saw his little smile. In a few minutes I sat down with Yann, Jean, Michel, Rachelle and Robert at the table. Berthe and Henriette sat with us too and, as Cecile placed our supper on the table before us, we said grace. We were very fortunate. Henriette crossed herself after the grace. Being Catholic, she did not share our Huguenot beliefs but she had no problems about sharing the meal with us. We chatted easily about the events of the day, but eventually I could see that Yann had something on his mind, something of a more private nature that could not be discussed at the super table. I waited until the meal was finished and we were left alone at the table. "Yann, is there something going on?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "Nesrine, you can read me like a book!" He gave a wry smile, "but yes, there is something. Let us go up to our bedroom. It's more private." I noticed that he checked outside the door then, closing it, he gestured to our bed, to sit down. I went to embrace him but this time he held back and began speaking in a low voice. "Nesrine, I am beginning to get disturbing news from some of my contacts. This comes all the way from Versailles and concerns Huguenots like us. We have had religious acceptance now for more than a century, since the Edict of Nantes. But this toleration and our rights have been gradually encroached on. Still, it was something we could live with. Even the billets. There are these rumors that King Louis, at the behest of his mistress, has ideas that we should adopt his own religion, that is, we become Catholics." Yann shrugged. " That suits Louis' own ideas too. As absolute king he thinks people should follow him in all respects. "Now I hear he is going to absolutely insist on it. We can expect the pressure on us to increase." I shook my head. "Yann, we have been good citizens. We are hard working, just like many other Huguenots. We are loyal French citizens. We provide work for many. We give food and alms to the poor. The local priest has praised us, although maybe in not so many words, for our care of the sick during that recent fever. I am sure the king will not go as far as that." "But just suppose? If he tried to suppress us, what would we do?" "You are my husband. What would you do?" Yann sighed and shook his head slowly. "We have been members of the Huguenot community here in Marseille for years, in fact soon after we were married. Your sister Jeanne and her husband Alphonse have followed us and are Huguenots too. We believe in its principles. Our community is small but its fellowship is an important part of our life. We might have to make the decision whether we can abandon that or..." He hesitated, "I hate to say it, we might have to leave France." I gave a small cry and put my hand to my mouth. Not again! I thought. My life had undergone much great turmoil in the past yet first, by myself and then with Yann, we had overcome our difficulties and built satisfying lives. Now, at this stage in my life I might have to endure more disruption! "Yann, my husband, we cannot make a quick decision, and what you say may not happen. Let us look to the near future. Our anniversary. Let us enjoy that!" In fact, we had a wonderful time at our anniversary. Our house was crowded with friends and I basked in the warmth and closeness of my family. I felt blessed, as happy as I have ever been. Some of our friends wanted to discuss the political changes but I tried to keep the conversation light. I even suggested to Yann that he also give a toast to King Louis, to emphasize our loyalty. Marc had been part of our celebration, as a servant helping to serve the guests, but also as a member of my household, taking part in our celebration. At the toast he looked surprised and a little uncomfortable Just the very next day the afterglow of our celebration was a bit spoiled. Yann was required to report to a Monsieur Lebrun who was some sort of local flunkey of King Louis to explain why he had not yet converted to Catholicism. In fact it was simply harassment. He was jailed for one night simply to show the king's power. He was released the next day, but I took it as a warning of things to come. A few days after that Marc asked to see me. In the past days something seemed to have changed in his personality He was careless in his duties, and sometimes he would be muttering to himself. This time I was concerned by his expression. He was almost in tears. "Madame Caradoc, I'm sorry!" When he broke down completely I comforted him. "Marc, what is the trouble?' "I have betrayed you, Madame." I was immediately suspicious. "In what way?" "It was just after my mother died. I was approached by a Monsieur Lebrun. He is a representative of the governor. He had me meet with the Bishop Marchette. They directed me to approach you for shelter and then to spy on your family as you are prominent in the Huguenot community. I was to attend your church and services. I was to report all that I heard. They wanted to know your plans when the king made his edict. He said it was my duty to do this as a Catholic against heretics." I gasped, a chill running through my body, but before I could react he went on. "Madame, my first weeks with you I did as he said. I reported anything that I had heard here, I even reported on what the preacher and the other Huguenots said at church." "When was this?" "Just the first weeks." I rapidly thought back. I could not think of any act or words of ours that could be taken as treasonous. I was glad we had toasted King Louis. "But, madame, you have been very kind to me. I cannot believe that you are a threat to France. Madame, I suspect that your family has plans underway, but I have deliberately tried to remain ignorant of them. "The last few times I have reported to Lebrun and the bishop, but only on ordinary happenings in your house and I have done even this less and less. Now they have become suspicious of me and have begun threatening me with imprisonment. Lebrun has even said I am a secret Huguenot and traitor. He has given me an ultimatum to report on your family. He even suggested that I make some things up. Madame Caradoc, I'm frightened. I could be killed, but I do not want to betray you." I was appalled that this boy should be threatened, and frightened that my own family was under such active investigation. I was glad I had found this out. We would have to be even more careful than ever. I took a deep breath and embraced him. "Thank you Marc, for telling me. Leave this with me. If either of them should ask, tell them that the family is making plans to obey the kings orders." I thought over the matter that night. If we were intending to leave, Marc would be left on his own again and vulnerable. Lebrun would be certain to take revenge on him. At last I made a decision. The simplest thing would be for Marc to disappear, but in a certain way. It would keep him safe from Lebrun, and the less Lebrun knew of our plans the better. In the morning I went to see Jeanne and explained the threat to her. She was horrified but immediately offered to help me out. Back home, I called Marc, "Marc, for your own safety I have to hide you. But, as you have deduced, we are planning to leave and then we will no longer be able to protect you from Lebrun's revenge. You would need to hide. Or be well disguised so you could escape. You would have to leave Marseille "So Marc, I think it would be best if I disguised you immediately. That way you could still be here and under my protection, or at least nearby, but Lebrun would not suspect who you were. If you so decided later, you could even escape with us." "Madame, how will you disguise me?' I took a deep breath. "Marc, it would be as a girl. You are young, certainly not yet a man. The disguise would be effective." He looked very wary, "I'm not sure. Surely my disguise could be easily found out. Besides, I don't want to be like a girl." "Marc, this will sound very strange to you but I have a certain book. It came into my hands and I know it can do certain things." I dared not tell him about what the book had done to me. If ever he told anyone about its effects, it would be dangerous to me and Jeanne. I was taking a terrible risk. I took a deep breath. "It's in a book of instructions, written in an ancient language. There are many instructions in it, mostly for healing." They were actually magic spells, but I thought it would be better not to give him that impression. "Marc, I have seen some used to heal cuts, help in childbirth and so on. There's one of them, I don't know its purpose- if a man or a boy like you hears it he will first shiver then fall unconscious and wake as a girl, fully. It lasts until some certain other words are spoken to reverse it." I realized I had probably said too much. "Marc, you must never tell of this but if you are in great danger this is a way to save you." His eyes widened in shock. "I would become a girl? Madame Caradoc, that sounds like witchcraft! Magic! They execute witches, don't they?" My attempt at playing down the type of book had not worked! An icy hand gripped my heart but I forced myself to speak evenly. "No one need find out. And you're already threatened." He bit his lip. "Supposing it did work, how long would I need to stay as a girl?" I shook my head. "That depends, but probably as long as are here. You should think carefully about it. I can change you back when we leave. I suppose Lebrun could still be looking for you, but he would not have seen you for some time and may have given up. When we are about to leave, I think it would be better if you were also to leave Marseille or, as I offered, you could come with us." Unfortunately, my husband did not know of the book's power. When I used the spell from it I would need to be careful so that he did not find out. I would be better to use at Jeanne's house when Alphonse was off on a trip. "Marc, I should warn you that the side effects are severe. You'd be unconscious about a day and a half. Some older men have died from it, but you're young and healthy. When you wake you'll have the body of a girl of your age in all respects. And then later I could change you back." He was frightened, but he had little choice. He nodded. "What we'll do Marc is, I will take you to my sister. She can hide you. When I've read these words, you can stay with her while the takes effect. A few days after that you can come back here. We'll change you back when it is safe. Hopefully by then Lebrun will have given up looking for you." "You're sure, Madame?" I was sure about the spell, but not him. I didn't doubt he was in danger from Lebrun but I had been careless in telling him about the spell and that had put me in extreme danger too. With that information he could, if he wanted, give Lebrun a powerful weapon against us, one that could destroy us. "Marc, while you are thinking about it, would you go and attend to your work downstairs then come and we will discuss it more." I rushed out to Jeanne's house and brought her back to my house. When Marc was finished his chores he came to us. He shook his head. "I've been thinking about it. Please, madame, I think I will not do as you suggest. I will take my chances. I will attempt to escape from Marseille." I was very annoyed, but I did not show it. I wondered about dismissing him but then in retaliation he might have gone to Lebrun and informed more about us. I would have to keep him on, but under my eye and think of an alternative plan. I could not let him go now. Even if he wanted to escape the roads were guarded. They might have his description. The following day Yann brought some men home whom I had not seen before. They retreated to a room and got involved in a discussion that lasted more than two hours. When they left all of them looked very serious and concerned. I raised my eyebrows to Yann. "Nesrine, We have heard of several Piedmontese families who have escaped their own repression and made their way to a village north of here. They are almost destitute. It is our duty to rescue them. They have escaped from active persecution but we must see that they are secure." "You mean, bring them here? We are persecuted too!" "Yes, I know, but they are much worse off than us and we can hide them among our families." "How many?" "There are four families, eighteen people in all. We are trying to decide how to rescue them. It is hilly around the village they are in, so they could not travel over the country and we would have to stay with the roads as much as possible. The trouble is that the authorities will be checking all travellers at the two guardhouses." He bit his lip. "It is a problem.The fever appears to have run its course and the guardhouses will be fully manned again. We should have tried earlier." That gave me an idea. I supposed the fever would still be in the minds of all and they would not want contact with it. I could possibly solve two problems at the same time. "You know, Yann, if the soldiers in the guardhouses could be drugged, or made to abandon their posts, a group of travellers might be able to slip past them. I think I know away of doing it. It will need very close timing. Also, I will have to be there! Jeanne will help me. Marc too." As I expected, Yann objected. "Nesrine, you are woman. Travel is dangerous.There could be thieves, and the roads are uneven. It is a journey of many hours." But I was adamant. I insisted how I could better care for the women and children and at last he grudgingly said that Jeanne and I could accompany him. With a little bribery, Yann was able to get a pass to allow us to go out to the village where the Piedmontese were hiding. To my horror, the next day, a small group of soldiers came to the house and arrested Yann again. He was taken to a jail and supposedly would be questioned about his activities. When I went to see him in his cell he was concerned, but not as much as I was. "Look Nesrine, it's just another harassment, just like the last time. Just another thing to annoy us! I expect to be released in two days or so. If not, I think a bribe would work. Don't worry." But I did worry! "What about getting the Piedmontese?" I spoke low so we would not be heard. "That can't wait. It's important that we save them. I know I objected before, but Nesrine, would you be willing to go by yourself? And please don't worry about me." I was worried sick, but if I did not have Yann with me that would free my hands for an idea that had come to my mind. That same day, with Marc and Jeanne, I set out in a cart along the road to the village. At the two guardhouses I particularly noted how many guards there were and how they were placed on the roads. The Piedmontese were all crowded into a single building that was little more than a hovel. That night I told them most of our plans and after much discussion they agreed. The next day I had attended to my business and we got ready to travel in the late evening. We had a good night's journey ahead of us. Jeanne, Marc and I were in our horse drawn cart. Ostensibly I had been looking for a supply of prepared flax and some madder for Yann's cloth manufacturing. The first guard post was about half way along our road. A bar was set across the road with a lantern illuminating it fairly well. At a suitable distance from it, I motioned for the four carts in our small caravan to stop just round a bend so they would not be seen. I went to the cart following us to speak to Caraglio, who seemed to be the spokesman for the Piedmontese. " Trust me. I have to do something on my own. Just wait here out of sight until I call you." I got down from our cart and beckoned Jeanne and Marc to accompany me. This was the part I did not want anyone else to see at all. In one hand I was holding the book under my cloak. One guard was leaning at the wall of the guardhouse by the bar across the road, the other guard right by the barrier. We walked slowly towards them. I was holding my own lantern completely openly so that they could easily see us coming. "Now Marc," I said, stopping in the road, "I have a little ditty that I will sing." 'Madame?" he asked. It was little wonder that he was puzzled! I took out the book and as I had done before I sang the spell to him to an old Tunisian tune. My voice was so low that only he and Jeanne would hear it." What are you singing Madame?" Marc asked. "Oh, just an old ditty to give me confidence." Jeanne gave a small snort. We still had a hundred paces to the guardhouse and as we walked slowly nearer, the guards were watching us carefully. We were almost there when I saw Marc give a small shiver. The spell was working. "Just a minute, Marc," I said, and shielding him from the guards, Jeanne and I spotted his face with some red dye. As another distraction I took a wine bottle, and pretending to drink from it, I began to stagger a bit, holding onto Marc. I began singing, my voice raising in volume and pitch, pretending to be drunk, until I was screeching in as raucous tone as I could. The guard looked at me in amusement changing to annoyance. Marc was looking at me too but he was shivering more and more. Even his teeth were chattering. His eyes began rolling in panic. As I expected the guard glared at us and asked for our pass. I took it out from my purse and waved it in the air. "You want my pass, boys?" Both actually looked quite young but I thought my condescension would annoy them. "Silly woman, show it to me!" one demanded. But then Marc clutched my arm and broke in. "Madame, I feel ill!" He certainly looked awful. Almost immediately he had the guards' attention. He was now shivering violently and staggering. They looked at him in mounting concern as he lurched against the barrier and I had to support him. "What is the matter with him?" one guard asked. "Look! He has spots!" I gave a screech of pretended laughter. "What? How should I know?" When I released Marc, he fell to the ground shaking and shivering. My hand was at my mouth as if I had suddenly noticed. "Look!" I cried. He has the fever. He will have infected me. I could die! We must flee!" At the commotion yet another guard appeared from the guardhouse, rubbing his eyes. Two of the guards stood over Marc, now unconscious, with his skin rippling all over his body. They were so occupied with him that they did not notice when I quietly read out the spell once more. "Then do you think it is the fever back? I asked. One guard's face went white and his mouth gaped open. He gasped and ran round to the back of the guard post and in seconds, it seemed, I heard the furious clatter of a horse's hooves, loud, then dying away rapidly. The other two had more courage and stood with us, one trying to read my pass in the dim light. He was beginning to shiver and was rubbing his eyes In vain. His eyesight would be dimming. In a minute he was shaking violently. In another he was unconscious at my feet. The other guard began reeling and staggering about until he too collapsed on the road. Jeanne helped me drag both inside the guardhouse. We took Marc and set him at the side of the road. I shouted for Caraglio and the others to bring our cart and that the road was clear. Caraglio looked at Marc in amazement. "Madame Caradoc. What has happened? What did you do?" I certainly could not tell him the truth. "I pretended to the guards that Marc there has a fever but he is all right. I gave him a drug that has caused him to faint, and I painted spots on his face but he will wake with no harm done. I also managed to get a drug to the guards and they are also unconscious. There was another one but he's run off and the road is clear now. You had better get through and hurry along." We still had one more guardhouse to pass another two hours along the road. I had intended to try much the same trick but it was unnecessary. This guardhouse was completely deserted and it looked as if the guards there had panicked and run off. To my great relief the rest of the journey into the city was uneventful and by dawn the four families were secreted away in Huguenot houses. Back in Marseille I took Marc to Jeanne's house. After we laid him out in the cellar we undressed him. He had grown well in my house and was beginning to show the signs that he was maturing into a man. Once again. just as in the past, I marveled at the power of those strange alien words. By this time Marc was well into his transformation. I wondered how the two guards would fare as women. I had only a slight sympathy for them. Their change might even cause some panic in the rest of the guards. I looked at Jeanne. "Jeanne, thank you for your help. I think it will be well over a day before he wakes." It was some years since I had used the transformation spell, even longer since I had actually seen it doing its work. I was fascinated, awestruck, by the effects of the spell and I could not force myself to leave. I felt for Marc. It was almost thirty years when Walid the Sly's wife had used it on me and I remembered the pain and aches of waking up. The boy's body had almost completely changed, and rearranged. The hands and feet were smaller, more delicate and smooth. His face was rearranged too, the eyebrows softened, the nose and ears more delicate, the lips fuller. Pretty cheekbones had formed. Beauty was being formed before my eyes. It had become a girl's face. The hips widened and reshaped too and the waist slimmed down. I knew that the spell made a woman of the same age but, as girls matured faster than boys, I was not really surprised when a pair of pretty breasts started to grow on her chest. They were small, as I would have expected with a young girl, but they were prettily shaped. Each was tipped with a rosy pink areola and prominent nipple. As I watched the last stage was starting. His genitals had been shrinking, retracting into his groin so that he was almost flat, then that began form into a mons and lower, it split and rearranged into the complex folds of labia. It was a woman's body. Marc was now a woman. The changes were almost complete. With a few more ripples she lay quiet. Finally, the rippling faded away and what lay unconscious before me was a young woman, pretty, despite a sweaty stained face and red patches on her face. She would not wake for almost two days. I rose and stretched. "That's that then, until she wakes up. It will be a shock for her." I grinned ruefully. "A shock like we both experienced." I shook my head and shuddered slightly. "I remember the despair, yet it has all turned out for the best for me. I can't conceive ever again living like a man." Jeanne shook her head. "Yes, I remember the terror and bewilderment when I too woke up into a changed body. Then the confusion and bewilderment when you whispered to me to be quiet. I didn't understand, except it was to save me. "Nerine, you should get back to your household. I'll look after her, but I'll let you know when she wakes. She'll be fine here. Alphonse will be away for a few days so there will be none to disturb us." "Thank you, Jeanne. I'll get her some girls' clothes. She looks as if she will be about the same size as Rachelle." Later, Jeanne told me that first night she slept in the same room as the new girl to keep checking on her, but there was no change, nor all of the next day and night. She had begun to get worried and one time when the girl appeared to be too motionless she had wiped her down and checked her pulse. It was slow, but steady. That same day I went back to the jail. I was very tired after the previous night but I needed Yann. If they were not prepared to release him I was ready to read my book there and then to free my husband. In retrospect, it was fortunate that when I got there he was standing with Lebrun, about to be released. Lebrun was haranguing him and when I arrived Lebrun started on me. I just stared at him impassively. "Monsieur Lebrun, we are good French citizens," I said. " Why are you treating us this way?" I did not wait for a reply and we quickly made our way home. "Did all go well with the Piedmontese?" was about the first thing he asked. "Yes, they are all hidden away now. But that boy Marc decided to leave us. I am angry at him. I was kind to him, but he must feel confident enough to make his own way in the world. Oh yes, I am taking another servant in his place, a young girl I found on the street. She will soon be coming to our house soon. She is with Jeanne just now." "Another servant? Is that wise at this time?" "I feel I have a special duty to this one, She needs my help, "I just replied. I was worried about her and I went to see the unconscious girl that evening. I gave a nod of approval. Her face had become covered with red patches and her lips were cracked and dry but she really would be very pretty. I wondered if she would appreciate it. When she muttered something, I raised my eyes. Despite the croak, it was a woman's voice. Her face was a woman's, so was her body, but her upper lip and chin held the remnants of some downy hair, what would have been the starting of a mustache and beard of a boy becoming a man. Her two breasts were smallish, but were prettily shaped, each with a prominent areola and nipple. Her neck was now long and slender. Her ears and nose were smaller than they had been. It was late the next day when she began finally to start moving, beginning with little groans, with occasional mild jerking of her limbs. I was relieved. If she had died I would have felt very guilty. Finally her eyes began to flicker and she looked like she was finally beginning to wake up. I held some cool water to her lips, opened them with my fingers and gave her a trickle. It just spilled down her chin. When I gave her a little more a few minutes later she spluttered and coughed and her eyes flicked open, but closed again in a few seconds. I waited a few minutes more and this time she sipped it more easily, then her hands came up to hold the cup and she gulped it down. I wrinkled my nose. "Jeanne, she still has an unpleasant smell of fever. We really should wash her again." The girl was still mostly unconscious, and she did not resist as I turned her to wash her all over. Just as on her lips there was only fine wispy hair at the base of her belly but I knew that would soon grow. She would become like a girl her age. I pulled her up to a sitting position. She was dazed at first then she focused her eyes and looked at me, puzzled. "Madame Caradoc? What has happened?" She ran her fingers over her brow, then stopped and looked at her fingers. She frowned. "Why am I naked, and what's happened to my hands?" she cried, her voice becoming louder and shriller. "And my arms? They are different!" She would not have recognized them. Her fingers were long and slim. Her arms were smooth and rounded. Before I could think of a reply, I heard a series of gasps, changing to whooping cries of fright. She had looked down at her chest! "Aahh! What's that?" She scrabbled at her breasts. With a sudden realization she threw off the thin blanket to expose her groin. This time she gave a series of shrieks. "What have you done? I have breasts! My penis is gone!" she wailed. Her voice quickly tailed off. "My voice too! It's shrill! What's happened?" I spoke calmly and evenly. "We've changed you to a girl. This is to disguise you. Remember Lebrun threatened you!" "A girl? No! No!" Jeanne and I had to endure ten minutes of panicked screaming while she thrashed and twisted on the bed. We even had to hold her down. "Why? What have I done to deserve this?" She was crying. "I told you, it is to hide you. I'll change you back as soon as it is safe for you. It's for your safety." It was for mine too, I thought. "How could you do this!" she sniffled. I took her small hands. "Please listen, we needed to hide you. Otherwise, your life might have been in danger. This is the best way to disguise you. You are a girl, but you are a beautiful one." I was ready for her when she tried to grab hold of me. I took her upper arms in my hands. " This will save you! Lebrun would have found out thatyou have betrayed him. This is the best possible disguise." "I don't care if I am beautiful! I don't want to be a girl!" I shook my head. "There was no reasonable other course. I will look after you. although, to help in the disguise, I will have to train you to act like a girl. you will also wear girls' clothes." "This is terrible!" She shook her head. "You can't do that! Train me? I don't want to be a girl. I demand you change me back!" "Listen, this is only for a short while. Now, I can't call you Marc. It would be unsafe for you and anyway, it is unsuitable. What girl's name would you like?" "I don't want any!" I had expected that. "Then I will call you Justine. You will have to use that." She began a fresh bout of tears and protests so Jeanne and I just left her in the room. At length it was quiet and when we looked back in she was sleeping. In fact she slept another four hours before I heard her stirring again. I opened the door to her small room. "Jeanne, let me handle this. She will be in my house so it is my responsibility to get her to accept it. "Justine, How are you now?" I asked. "I don't hurt as much, but madame, what you have done is cruel!" It took another hour of comforting her and reasoning with her before she stopped her protests. "Now you must start to behave like girl. The first, you must need to relieve yourself. Here!" I pushed a chamber pot to her. "You will need that, and you will have to sit on it." I still saw confusion and resistance in her eyes but my suggestion had made her aware of how much she needed. Tears oozed from her screwed up eyes as she sat down awkwardly on the pot. That was the first of many female actions resulting from her new body she would have to get used to. Her face was still sullen and miserable but her protests were no longer as vigorous. I felt for her but I did not dare show it in case she thought she would resist me. "Justine, I would like to check you over to see that you are all right. But I am sure you have the body now of a lovely young woman/" Sighing, she let me examine her up and down. As I had expected, she seemed a perfectly formed girl, but I wrinkled my nose at the unpleasant smell of fever mixed with stale perspiration. "Unfortunately, Justine, you need to wash, the sooner the better! You have perspired a lot in your change, so you should wash over all of your body." If she had to wash herself it would be a start for her to get more familiar with her new anatomy. "First, you should wash your hair!" Make sure it is done properly! Do you want me to help you?" I fetched her a basin of warm water, soap and a cloth. "Yes, please," she said meekly. "Please help me wash my hair." Her voice was broken. She held her head docilely over the basin and let me wash her hair. It was oily from the spell's work but I had seen worse in the waifs that I took off the streets. Unfortunately it was far too short compared to other women's hair so she would have to keep it covered to better disguise her. As it dried I combed it. Eventually I passed the comb and brush to her. "Now you do it! You should brush your hair at least two dozen times each day." She did so, still sniffling occasionally and looking at me fearfully. "Now, you are to wash all of your body!" I gave her fresh water. "You do that! Your breasts and between your legs. All over!" I watched her carefully as she soaped her breasts and washed between her legs, her breasts and her buttocks. I was forcing her to be aware of the great changes in her body. I threw her a cloth and she dried herself. I saw her flinch when at her breasts. "Yes, you have breasts. Feel them!" Hesitatingly, her eyes opening wide, she squeezed her breasts. "Now pinch the nipples!" I ordered and she gasped slightly. "You have washed. You will do this everyday and keep yourself neat and clean always. I had you do this when you were a boy. You are a young woman now and it is even more important as women are expected to keep clean. Besides, you are still my servant and I demand that my servants keep themselves clean." At some point I would have to get her used to dressing in women's clothing but I decided to leave that for at least another day. That way her new body would be continually in her sight. That was what had been done to me so long ago in Walid's slave compound. Was I getting as ruthless as Walid? "Are you hungry? I imagine you're thirsty too?" I gave her some bread and milk. She picked at the bread at first but soon hungrily tore at it. I gave her some fruit afterwards then sent her back to bed. When I looked in she was sleeping peacefully. "She has accepted it now?" asked Jeanne. "No I don't think she has. She would change back in a minute if I let her, but she has no choice." The next day I brought some older clothes of Rachelle's and had Justine dress in them. Of course she was unfamiliar with the garments and I had to help her dress, ignoring her blushes and squirming. "Madame, this dress is to restricting and it is too tight at my waist and it rubs my chest!" I saw some rebellion in her eyes but at least she did as she was told. Her spirit was broken, for the moment. As Alphonse was due to return in two days she could not remain with Jeanne and the following day I brought her back to my house. I introduced her to the other servants and my own family as a girl who had been orphaned and I was giving shelter to. I had previously warned her to keep quiet or I would throw her out on the street and fortunately she had the sense not to object. As I would have done with any new maid I showed her round the house and went over her duties. If Berthe, Henriette or Cecile noticed that she seemed familiar with the house they did not remark on it. Perhaps they though she was a fast learner. When they asked about the disappearance of Marc I said that I discovered he had been spying on us for Lebrun and I had dismissed him. I told them I had no idea where he was and that I did not care! Of course they were