“You’re a smart woman,” said Momma. “King Hasan will have no one left to tax if his guards kill everyone. What happened to the previous king?”
Momma’s question surprised me. She usually did not care for the world of kings, courts, and ministers.
Ife shrugged. “There was a drought many years ago. Hasan rode into town wearing a golden tunic and promised he had the power to summon the rain.”
“The drought was ten years ago.” Momma glanced at me. “You were too young to remember.”
Ife placed the ladle on the well. “Some folks think Hasan was the old king’s bastard who had come to seize the throne. Who knows? Maybe it’s gossip. I do know the women swooned when they first saw him. Hasan is a fine-looking man with a sun-shining smile, straight nose, strong chin, and shoulders like a mountain. So handsome and so evil! A devil’s trick. The next day he stood on the palace steps and proclaimed himself king. No one saw the old king ever again.”
“He killed him.” There could be no other explanation.
“Yes, child,” said Ife. “But since the dam was low, all the widyan dry, and the people hungry, no one cared.”
“Did he summon the rain?” I asked.
“The very next day.” Ife frowned and shook her head. “For two rainy seasons everyone praised him, but that stopped when he taxed every household, merchant, and smith double.”
I did not understand taxes. I only knew that a few times a year Momma poured silver into the tax collector’s palm. Some he put in one bag. Some in another.
“Taxes pay for the dam’s upkeep and keep the town’s walls repaired,” said Momma.
“King Hasan did none of those things.” Ife flapped her hand. “Nor did he listen to our complaints or settle disputes, as is his sovereign duty. He admits ten petitioners every other month and deprives them of justice. If a man brings his wife or daughter, King Hasan fucks her right there—his price, he says, for negotiations. If two men argue over a goat, he takes the goat, and demands they each bring him another goat as a tithe.”
My mouth hung open. Momma, however, did not seem surprised.
“Fleshly desires consume him.” Ife’s lips twisted with disgust. “He saw my beautiful friend at the marketplace, flung her over his shoulder, and carried her back to his palace.” Ife balled her hands. “There are rumors that he abuses the women in his harem.” Ife glanced over her shoulder, wary of an eavesdropper. “The harem women wear collars, and he lines them up bent over side by side and sticks his cock in each one. If one is not as tight as the others, the guards take her away and she is never seen again.”
I squeezed Momma’s hand. She squeezed back in silent agreement.
Ife spent the night with us. She left the next morning, but not before Momma gave her two full water skins and enough bread, lamb, walnuts, and olives to last three days. Momma also pressed silver into Ife’s hand.
“Why don’t you fly Ife to her village?” I asked as Ife’s retreating figure disappeared around the bend in the path. “You can have her there in a blink of an eye.”
Momma’s mouth curved into a sad smile. “There are too many reasons why I must not.”
I clamped my hands on my hips. “Name one.”
“It’s more than miles Ife must walk. She must learn to control her tongue.”
“Why?”
“Because people like the easy coin they get for snitching. What do you think King Hasan would do if he heard a woman was going from town to town slandering his name?”
I skewed my lips in thought. “He would hunt her down and kill her.”
“Without hesitation or remorse. And what would King Hasan do if he found out a jinni flew her to her village faster than a bird?” Momma picked up the lopsided basket I needed to finish.
“He would try to capture you.”
“Right again.” Momma tossed me the basket.
“Ma’rib sounds like an awful place.” I stared down at my shoddy workmanship.
“Don’t confuse a place for the person ruling it,” said Momma. “Ma’rib is beautiful. The homes are three stories tall and traders from all over the world pass through its gates. The town is full of life, busy as a beehive. It’s a shame this King Hasan rules with stings and not honey.”
CHAPTER 4
A few days later, another stranger walked the steep path to our mud-brick home.
“Hail, lucky daughter of a beautiful mother, I’m Nula.” A gorgeous woman with honey-colored skin and shiny bronze hair that flowed like water over her shoulders lowered her head with deference. “I’ve come from afar to further your journey to Greatness.”
A woman? I asked Momma with my eyes.
“Have fun.” Momma gave me a teeth-baring smile and walked away.
Nula flicked her shiny hair over her shoulder, the lustrous ribbons catching the light. “Your momma didn’t tell me you were so beautiful! I bet you have many suitors.”
“I don’t have any. Momma keeps them all away.”
“That’s clever of her.” She tapped plump lips. “Do you know why I’m here?”
I crossed my arms. “I think so.” But now I wasn’t so sure. Did the woman have a cock? I shifted from foot to foot, suddenly nervous.
Nula untied her thin multicolored belt, wrapping it around her arm like a sleeve. She kicked off her thong sandals. I laughed as one flipped high in the air. Then Nula pulled her tunic over her head.
My mouth dropped open.
A wide ribbon the color of the night sky was wrapped about her body. The ribbon looped over her shoulders, crisscrossed between her generous breasts, bound her upper torso, crisscrossed again to girdle her wide, fleshy hips, and encircled her sturdy thighs. The ends made a bow above her hairless woman’s delta.
Nula’s ribbon-wrapped body was stunning: her proud breasts tipped by tiny pink areolas displayed like a work of art, her hairless cunt like a gift.
“I’ve always believed that only men should have beards.” Her hips swayed forward and she cupped her breasts. “You like?”
My mouth watered, and I felt a familiar tug between my loins. “You’re a prostitute?”
Her pointed chin lifted with pride. “Not just any prostitute. A high priestess of Hirrān.”
Hirrān, the god of childbirth, did not have a temple in this part of Saba.
“Come. It will be cooler inside.” She tugged on my hand and pulled me toward the door.
I went willingly, my eyes feasting on the jiggle of her succulent round ass.
As though feeling my hungry eyes, Nula slapped her ass. It shook, the flesh quivering with robust delight. “I’m told I have the finest ass in town.”
I longed to touch that fine ass. Feel its luscious heft in my hand. Squeeze its meaty flesh. My cunt pulsed with anticipation.
Once inside, Nula stopped in the middle of the room and looked over her shoulder. “Ass or tits?”
“Huh?”
Nula turned around and grabbed her breasts. “What do you want to touch first? These?” She shook her breasts. “Or this?” She spun around and shook her ass.
“I . . .” I wanted both.
Nula laughed. “That’s everybody’s reaction.” She took my hands, drew me close, and placed my hand on her breast. “That’s right, girl with the golden eyes. I’m yours to explore.”