7. Dancing slave
My dancing is a great success and I'm glistening with sweat when I'm called over to where Hassan and the three English officers are sat. I know the plan is for Hassan to tell them my mother was an English slave of one of his uncles, and that I was born here in Morocco. For his amusement, and because of my likeness to the pirate in question, he has had me tattooed and I now play the part of the captured girl pirate on the dance floor and in his bed. This story seems to convince all but one of the officers. The doubter is a rough looking man with a uniform a little too shabby for the captain's rank it displays. He is undoubtedly a naval intelligence officer and it is he who will be the sole judge of tonight's charade.
He speaks fluent Arabic, which confirms my suspicion that he's no ordinary naval captain. He calls me over. I do as I'm told and as soon as I'm close enough, he reaches under the gold plate hanging from my belt and grabs me where no decent man ever should. I feel like reciprocating his rudeness with a sharp movement of my knee, but realise in time that this is a test. I look at Hassan and see he is livid. I may be his slave but another man taking liberties with me without his permission is regarded as an insult to his family. Hassan need only make a small signal to Samed, who is standing nearby, and this man's head will be quickly parted from his shoulders. But that would mean we would lose our game.
"A hundred camels for your daughter," says the disgusting man to Hassan. His Arabic is perfect but I have no idea what he is talking about. Hassan doesn't have a daughter, and even if he did, why would this man think he'd trade her for camels. Before Hassan can answer one of the other officers asks the repulsive captain if he thinks I'm the real Jacky Faber. He goes thoughtful for a moment and finally removes his hand. I jump back out of reach and go to kneel besides Hassan, adopting a pose with upturned hands on my parted knees, indicating a meek slave girl awaiting her master's command.
"No, the Jacky Faber I've been told about is a scrawny kid who would never let me hold her like that," replies the captain. "This ones got too much meat on her, and that dance she performed must have taken years to perfect. She can't be our girl. Our host is telling the truth; she's just some pretty slave girl he's dressing up for his pleasure. This has been a fool's errand. Let's just enjoy the rest of the evening."
For the officers, the evening's remaining entertainment is provided by women hired from a brothel in Salé. For me, it's a well deserved soak in the pools before heading for my bed. To my surprise A'isha joins me in the pools and I take the opportunity to ask her about the puzzling question that horrid man had asked. She burst out laughing and tells me. Oh! I should have guessed! I'm really glad Hassan didn't accept his offer or I'd be warming the captain's bed tonight.
It seems my performance on the dance floor was a huge success. All six of us are now practising solo routines wearing elaborate costumes. Abal has promised to teach us the sensual dance of the seven veils.
Two weeks later my fortunes take a rapid and disastrous decline. I'm working in the warehouse in Salé and trying to make sense of some badly written tally sheets. I'm concentrating so hard that I momentarily forget my lowly status. I say something out of turn to Hassan in front of some merchants. I wouldn't dream of saying what I did if I was thinking straight. But the damage is done. Hassan is furious and makes a big show of ordering me to be taken away.
I'm put in shackles and returned to Wadi Halaf that evening where I'm locked in a small store room for an hour. Despite the late hour, the whole harem is gathered in the large room by the pools to witness my punishment. Six strokes of the cane on the soles of my feet. Afterwards, Samed carries me back to the store room and locks me in with only a pitcher of water and a small loaf of bread. I cry myself to sleep.
The pain from my feet wakes me several times during the night, but by dawn I can walk the few paces the size of the room allows. While it is unusual to keep a girl locked up once harem punishment is delivered, I assume I will be released soon. My complacency is shattered when Samed enters early the next morning and tells me to remove my clothes and put on the djellaba made of rough cloth he is carrying. He then turns me around and binds my wrists behind me. It is then that I realise my punishment is far from over.
I'm bundled into a cart and taken into Salé without a chance to say goodbye to anyone. Four hours later I'm sat with six other dejected souls on a dirty smelly street in front of a slave dealer's house. The dealer sits at an open window overlooking his wares who are sitting on a worn carpet just below him. I kept my hood up to keep my face from burning in the late morning sun. The street is crowded with people, although only a few pay us any attention. It would be easy to run off into the crowd, but I have nowhere to go. Death would be the penalty for a failed escape attempt.
Of the seven of us sat on the carpet, the two Arab women in their early twenties attract the most interest from would be buyers. Each time a customer shows an interest in either woman, the dealer has her remove her clothes and allows the man to examine her closely. The half starved woman with a child about 9 months old attracts no interest at all, nor do the two injured men, one of whom looks as though he may depart this world at any minute. I'm only required to undergo the degrading experience once, for a Nubian boy who is about my age. The boy has the same sort of evil look in his eye as Sin-Kay. He takes his time giving me a thorough examination. While I'm standing there I suddenly noticed Jaimy and Randall in the crowd. My humiliation is complete; I wish the earth would swallow me up.
The boy decides to wait until I'm on the auction block rather than make an offer here and now. I've no idea whether the Nubian is seriously interested in buying me, or simply wanted a chance to paw a white girl. The slave dealer allows me to dress and sit down. Market hours end at noon, and we are all returned to the dealer's compound for the rest of the day. That night, about midnight, I hear a noise that wakes me. Suddenly I see two shadows looming over me and I nearly cry out in fright. Fortunately I realise in time that the two shadows belonged to Jaimy and Randall. A rescue!
The slave dealer must be overly confident in the docility of his slaves because his compound security is poor. The shackles on my ankles are so old and worn that Jaimy easily picks the locks and frees me from the chain linking me to my fellow slaves. A guard stands at the main gate, but parts of the compound wall are out of his line of sight.
In less than a minute the three of us are over the wall and running along the street behind Jaimy and Randall. I'm now risking my life, and they their freedom. Capture would certainly mean my execution, and their condemnation to the oars of a slave galley. We stop in a dark alley and I take a moment to give my two heroes a huge hug and a kiss each. If either had been alone I would have showed my appreciation more passionately, but now isn't the time or place to trigger a bout of male rivalry. Unlike our previous meeting in Salé they have an escape plan this time. As we run through the shadows they tell me that the old woman who cleans Hassan's office in Salé had come looking for them and told them of my fate. Since our last meeting, Jaimy and Randall have been busy preparing an escape plan. Now they are putting it into action.
They hurry me across the city to a house near the docks. It's approaching dawn by now and we don't want witnesses to our movements. Three Europeans running around the streets will attract unwanted attention. Randall's coded knock gains us entry into the house. This is the point the boy's escape plan falls apart. The man who admits us into the house is horrified when he sees that I'm a girl. Jaimy and Randall must have omitted that apparently essential piece of information when arranging our escape. What's more, the man is panic stricken when he sees my collar and the inscription on it.
The slave dealer had decided not to remove my collar as it indicated I came from one of the very best harems in the region, and so would increase my value on the auction block. But the collar states I'm Hassan's property, not the dealer's, so he has taken a foolish risk.
An hour of arguing does nothing to persuade the man to find us a ship to take us to freedom. He clearly wants us out of his life. In the end I take charge and extract a promise from the man to hand me over to Hassan rather than the slave dealer, whom we have so far refused to name. He agrees since my collar indicates I belong to Hassan. I thank Jaimy and Randall for their gallant efforts, and to leave and save themselves. They are very reluctant to do so, but eventually see the hopelessness of our situation. They nevertheless promise to try a rescue again as soon as the opportunity presents itself.
The man hands me over to Hassan's staff at the warehouse. Before long I'm back at Wadi Halaf. I'm taking a huge risk since Hassan may simply decide to return me to the slave dealer, who will likely take his anger out on me most cruelly. Fortunately Hassan is in a better mood, and he even seems slightly relieved by my reappearance. The girls in the harem had not accepted my removal quietly and even the threat of Samed's cane did nothing to quell the near riot. Hassan accepts my apology for my behaviour which caused my disgrace. He even agrees that I had not tried to escape from him, but in fact have voluntarily returned to him.
So I'm once again back in Hassan's harem, but not entirely without punishment. In exchange for Hassan settling matters with the slave dealer I am confined to Wadi Halaf. No more dancing engagements outside these walls. No more trips into Salé. At first I'm down-hearted, but A'isha finds plenty for me to do and I soon forget my troubles.