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Sunshine sparkled over a fairytale sea. Sails of red, blue and yellow glided in serene dance, measured by the same gentle breeze that played over Lacie's dress as she reclined on her favourite grassy down. From its slope high over the water, she saw in the distance a large four-master on its way to fairyland. Or perhaps to return laden with perfumes from Siam, India and Persia. Might it bring a Persian girlfriend to be here beside her? So much more exciting than lying here; her older sister, Elsie, on one side, and her black Persian cat, H'ad?n, on the other.The warm breeze wafted again from the sea. It kissed her bare feet, rippled over her legs, and ruffled her bodice. As it caressed her face she blew it a kiss. Eighteen-year-old Elsie sat, studying an orchestral score, as though oblivious to the sixteen-year old's presence.How perfect it would be, to join nature, throw off her clothes, open up and share herself with the breeze and the sun. Maybe her fingers would help special places respond to the sun's invitation.But she couldn't. Not with big sister, 'do-everything-right', Elsie sitting beside her. If Lacie put a stitch out of place in public, there'd be no end of the matter, let alone if she 'touched herself' on the downs.No, now was not the time to strip and indulge herself. She kept her hands still, lay back and let the sun stimulate her.It wasn't enough though. She sat up to observe the music Elsie was reading.Both girls had spent the morning playing their violins. Each played beautifully but so differently. Elsie's way was to shut herself in her room, learn score-reading and theory, and practise endless scales. She was almost as academic as their brother, Till, to whom music was merely a noun to be declined in Latin. Lacie'd heard him reciting his exercises: "Music; to music; oh, music; by, with or from music." Where was the feeling in that?Lacie played from the heart. She was a free spirit. She played by ear out in the sunshine and loved what she played. No way would she practise scales. As for learning to read music, no thank you, sir.She looked over at Elsie's score. Scheherazade; the Sultan's bride, exotic, erotic, voluptuous. Lacie knew the esat escort tune so well. She could see it on the page. The ruthless command of the Sultan, and then, over an ethereal harp, the sinuous solo of the violin. Her solo. She could play it from memory, and even without reading music, you could see its sensuous curves as it snaked down from that gorgeous top note. Then, seductively, you leap to the bottom of the violin and start the ecstatic rise, almost to your highest reaches. Hopefully, the Sultan's desire rises with you. If it doesn't, you're in trouble. With the Sultan, you either harden him where it matters or you harden his heart, and that means death.She turned from her sister's score. She had no time for a book that was just silent notes. She wanted the real thing or nothing at all. She dozed, one hand stroking black, Persian H'ad?n. It was no coincidence the cat's name rhymed with 'Queen'. Sleek, shiny and sexy, H'ad?n did everything from her heart. She stretched her supple body luxuriously the way only a cat can, and, oh, so much the way Lacie longed to; would have done had she been alone. Why did people have to wear clothes under sunshine like this? H'ad?n's oriental eyes looked into Lacie's as though she knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling. "Queen H'ad?n," whispered Lacie.The sun was doing its work. Its rays mingled with her thoughts, concentrated now on her face, now warming her breast. It created strange, moist tingles in the places she so frustratingly wasn't allowed to share with the open air.Her eyes closed.A shadow passed in front of her. The tall, slender figure, superbly feminine, was clad only in a ring of coloured tassels around her hips. She*stood between Lacie and the sun. Her silhouette against the bright light looked black, sleek, shiny; above all, sexy. 'How curious,' thought Lacie. 'I shouldn't be feeling sexy just because of the sunshine, still less should a woman make me feel like this. But is it a woman? Is it H'ad?n, showing me her real self?'The woman spoke in a low, anxious whisper. "Oh, my hips and ribbons, I shall be late for the Sultan. Girl, come with me. He needs you." Lacie etimesgut escort bayan rose, the vision took her by the hand. Together they ran, down the slope and into the sea.Out of the sea, from under their feet, rose a big four-master. All around them sailors raised masts, set rigging and unfurled the huge sails that would take them?to where? As the ship rose, water poured from canvas, rope, wood. A deluge swept over them. But to Lacie's amazement, it all happened without a sound, and she was not in the least wet.The water stopped its play, the downs vanished, and across a serene, blue ocean appeared islands with palm trees and empty sandy beaches.In the silence, music began to fill her mind, gently rocking, cradling, clear, soothing. It flowed over her, as real and sensuous as the breeze that had wafted over her thin dress on the downs. A seabird passed, and she even imagined its wings gliding to Scheherazade's tune. The imaginary music swayed in time to the movement of the ship over the calm, sun-glittered waves. From the hold floated scents of sandalwood, frankincense and patchouli.She turned. The lady stood behind her, tall, slender, now in long black robe and hood, mysterious, but reassuringly smiling.Before Lacie could speak, a rough-hewn sailor came forward. He bowed awkwardly and stood, uncouth, uncultured, but distinctly hunky. Were all the sailors like this? "Queen H'ad?n," he said, gruffly (even the sailor made the two words rhyme). "The captain wants to welcome you aboard the Golden Cockerel. He says to take the girl to him; the Sultan will be pleased."The sailor showed them into a stateroom that would have been the envy of the Shah's*palace. Lacie kept her eyes to the ground. What sort of sea captain had splendid surroundings like these?A fruity bass voice greeted them with: "H'ad?n, my friend. I've not seen you for so long. And you have brought me a young lady. Look up, my treasure. Let me see you. Welcome aboard the Golden Cockerel; our Coq d'Or."He spoke to H'ad?n. "You know, I do believe she will satisfy the Sultan." The voice was deep and jolly. Lacie looked up. Delight beamed through her. In Escort etlik a baggy blue suit was a rotund, jovial, bearded seaman with the biggest smile she had ever seen. "If ever," she thought, "Santa Claus were to take to the ocean, he would be this captain."The captain of the Coq d'Or clapped his hands like a child. "Oh, this is wonderful, wonderful; you are just in time to dine with us. We shall do so much together. This evening you will meet the Sultan. We are sailing to Al Nen Drowd for the festival day, and I shall show you the bazaar personally."H'ad?n took Lacie's hand. "Let me introduce you," she said. "This is Lacie. And this," she offered Lacie's hand to the seaman, "is Captain Sindwell.""My dear, I'm enchanted to meet you. The Sultan will like you so much. H'ad?n, you will both be dancing for him tonight? If Lacie pleases the Sultan, we will tell you her two tasks. If she performs them well, the Sultan will take her to his bed." He beamed at Lacie. "Oh, it will be such an honour for you."H'ad?n took her by the hand. "Yes, Captain, I'll prepare Lacie. She will do well.""And now you must both dine. But not too much wine or sweetmeats. Remember you have to dance. There will be plenty of feasting to come if you please the Sultan. I look forward to your performance."The 'performance' came. H'ad?n told Lacie: "Just watch what I do, then dance as beautifully as you can."In the captain's anteroom, H'ad?n stripped. She donned the ribbons she'd worn around her hips, and a similar set to dangle over her breasts. To her consternation, Lacie was offered the same. Then H'ad?n dressed each in a long one-piece robe opening down the front. Surely Lacie wasn't going to have to show off the ribbons? But why wear them if they weren't going to be seen?"H'ad?n," she began to exclaim.But the only reply was: "Shhh. Just do what I do, after you've watched. They'll love you."If the stateroom had looked palatial this afternoon, now, in the light of seven candelabras, and presided over by the Sultan's magnificence, it was luxuriant. He sat on a golden throne, flanked by two bodyguards, each bearing a ceremonial axe taller than himself. At one side of the platform, a lesser throne bore Captain Sindwell. Opposite, a similar throne stood empty.The captain directed Lacie to curtsey. "Your Maleship," he said (this is how the Sultan is addressed in Al Nen Drowd), "This is the lady Your Maleship requested. She embarked this afternoon and has been found most agreeable."