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Rated: GC · Other · Other · #1556443
The Story begins about Moria
Moria


That evening Dunazad met with her sister and they discussed all that had happened. Scheherazad was pleased with the progress, yet eager to learn more. While the execution chamber had not yielded much information, they had discovered how the remains were transported.

"Now we have to find out where Omar takes the body."

"That will not be easy," said Dunazad, "Omar will be wary, at least to begin with."

"You will have to find way to follow him."

"With the blackamoor? I might as well be riding an elephant."

"He's not really that big," Scheherazad answered, "squat and powerfully built, but not towering like a tree."

"Like a bush in the desert?"

"His size can be disguised."

"It's not so much that, as his face. We can't put a bag over it."

"Come now, I have seen many tradesmen who had dirty jobs and black faces; Smiths, miners, coal mongers to name a few."

Dunazad suddenly remembered the coal shed in the courtyard.

"A coal monger, now that idea has possibilities."

"Good, I'll help with the disguises. You can test them on the palace security. If you get caught, tell them you're conducting a security check. If you succeed, then I can assure you that fooling Omar will be no problem."

At that moment the King entered. He climbed into bed and beckoned to Dunazad to join him. Then he said to Scheherazad,

"I hope you have a good tale for tonight. It has been a long day and my spirits could use some cheering."

"I have a most delightful one," replied Scheherazad and began the fable of The Iron Monger's Daughter.

Once there was a blacksmith who had a beautiful daughter named Moria. She assisted her father in cleaning the shop, keeping the books and in selling the iron wares. This girl had a gift for being able to read the imaginations of those around her. Thus when someone was nearby and they visualized something, it was as clear to her as it was to them. Often she found this to be amusing, however, with maturity, she also came to realize that hers was not a common gift, and kept its knowledge to herself. This ability is not to be confused with a talent for reading nuance, facial expressions or the look in a person's eye. Her talent was of a more profound nature and enabled her to see another's thoughts, without even being in the same room. As she blossomed into the fullness of womanhood, her beauty could no longer be concealed even by veil and the most modest of dress. Her father knew this, but had no one else to assist him and cautioned his daughter to behave with discretion and bring no more attention to herself than necessary.

The King spoke up. "Now that would be a talent I could put to good use. Imagine someone who could walk about and look inside the minds of others?"

Scheherazad paused and waited for the King to finish.

"Go on! Go on!" he said, with a gesture of motion. I'm just thinking aloud."

Moria needed no reminder, for she already knew the minds of young men better than anyone in the village. One day a nobleman entered the store for the purpose of buying some accouterments of war. He noted her beauty and lusted after her. It was not a new experience for Moria, as she had seen this aspect of a man's thinking on many other occasions, specifically in the minds of the many young men who visited the shop. What was different, was the power and violence of the stranger's vision; What he imagined doing to her and worse, his plan for putting it into action. These evil thoughts continued, even after leaving, and she watched through his eyes as he circled the shop and surveyed their apartment behind the store. Abruptly he departed and his evil purpose passed from view.

"A nobleman?" said the king, "I hardly think so! A "thief" or a "Highwayman" is more likely."

Now the demeanor of the rogue frightened Moria, and she expressed her misgivings to her father. He dismissed her concerns because it seemed to him that the stranger was exactly the type of customer he was trying to cultivate. Most of his business came from poor farmers and this customer made a large purchase and paid cash.

Several weeks later the rogue returned, making another large purchase and placing an order even greater. As before, Moria felt her body being undressed by his eyes, and in her mind saw him climbing through the window as moon shown full and brightly. When her father entered from the shop the evil vision ceased abruptly. The two men talked for a time, concluded their business, and the stranger departed with his purchases. Again Moria expressed her fears and again her father dismissed them as unfounded.

"What a fool," said the King.

Now Moria's mother had died young. All who knew her recalled an inexplicable queerness about her demeanor. Even the the smith always found her ways peculiar, and while he never understood her, his love was absolute and his trust unshakable. Most husbands would have been troubled by unexplained departures, long separations and returns that gave no account of whereabouts. Not so the smith. He was in awe of his wife and knew there was something very special about her. His devotion was absolute and he feared only that she might leave some day and never return.

"What ails this man?"

Ignoring him, Scheherazad continued.

Now it happened that his wife had an emerald she wore around her neck and one day she told her husband.

"I must be gone for awhile and I know the pain our separations cause you. So I am giving you the companion to my gem and want you to wear it while I am gone. Around your neck it will give you a peace of mind, when all is well with me, and should I be in danger, summon you to my side. Do not fear for me and know that my love for you is eternal as the sun by day and the stars at night."

And the smith did as his wife directed and the warm glow of the emerald gave him assurance that all was well even though she was gone from his side. One night however, he had a nightmare and awoke with a start, his body clammy with sweat. He had seen his wife stabbed with a dagger and heard her voice calling out to him. He arose from his bed and rushed out into the night. The path to her was clear to him even though he had never traveled it before. He ran and ran and though his heart cried out and his breath came quick and his legs groaned in agony he did not stop until he found her laying in the road. Taking her in his arms he held her as she spoke these final words.

"Take my emerald and give it to our daughter. Have her wear it about her neck and keep yours as you have it now and never take them off. For to her you must now devote yourself, fully as you have to me. Protect Moria, and be ever vigilant for any evil that may come her way."

With those words she died, and the smith screamed loud, and the agony of her passing strangled his heart with grief. When the dawn came he buried her, returned to his daughter, and giving her the gem made her swear to never take it off.

Several weeks later the stranger returned again for his order. His vile mind was full of lewd desire and in his imagination she saw him sneaking up to their apartment and climbing the apple tree next to her window. This filled her with anxiety, however, when her father came out from the shop the vision ceased and the two men concluded their business. After having her concerns dismissed on the two previous occasions she kept her misgivings to herself, however, this time her father said.

"Have no fear Moria, for I am watching over you and will protect you from evil."

This surprised her because it seemed he was aware of her thinking.

"It was the gem working," the King said.

This was reassuring and when she went to bed that night she was refreshed by the briskness of the October night and the fullness of the harvest moon. Around midnight she awakened with a start to a hand pressed tightly over her mouth.

"If you value your life, keep silent," a voice whispered and she felt the weight of a dark body climb on top of her. Paralyzed with fear Moria knew at once the identity of her assailant and saw clearly the foul purpose he had in mind.

"If you cry, I swear I'll kill you, and then your father when he comes to your aid, so lay still little chicken and submit yourself."

His hands pulled about her waist and she felt her nakedness beneath him. Then came the search of his manhood groping for her vagina. She bit her lip to keep silent, and wept as the head found her entry. At the moment there came suddenly a gasp from his lips, and then a loud gurgling.

Looking up she saw her father slit the renegade's throat and pull his body from atop her. Blood flew everywhere as her assailant thrashed in the throes of death. The arm of her father was around the rogue's neck and his hand stifled the groans of his mouth. After awhile the jerking ceased and the body became still. Her father motioned her to silence and crept to the window. At the end of the alley stood a man tending two horses. Her father whistled to him and motioned with his arm. The accomplice, thinking his friend had finished the foul deed, led the horses beneath the eave. With a curse the smith threw the body through the window and knocked the bewildered accomplice to the ground. Then he raced down the stairs and in his haste, stumbled over his feet, knocking his head against the floor. By the time he came to his senses, the rider had fled with the body, into the night

"He should never have let the accomplice escape."

The next morning the Smith sold his shop and fled with his daughter into the forest, because he feared retribution.

"A wise move."

Deep in the forest he built a shack and became a woodcutter and told no one of their whereabouts.

Scheherazad paused, for at that moment she heard her father's voice from the doorway,

"Great King, The assassin has decided to name his conspirators. You asked me to summon you, when he decided to talk."

"It's going to be a long night," said the King. "This is a most interesting tale and I wish to hear more of it later."

The next morning, after breakfast, Dunazad summoned the blackamoor. She told him that she was going shopping and that he was to go into town and buy a large hand cart. Then he was to go to the coal yard and purchase a load of cooking and heating disks. Next he was to rent a stall near the market and leave the vehicle parked there. That afternoon the two girls met him in the sewing room and finished perfecting the disguises. When Scheherazad was satisfied, they put the garments and accessories into a bag in preparation for the following day.

The next morning Scheherazad went to the kitchen. It was the custom in those days, that the woman of the house, regardless of its size or station, supervised the culinary operations. Thus, it came as no surprise to the staff, that Scheherazad walked through every morning. In the course of her duties she noticed that each day the chief cook and two apprentices went to the market. There the Cook purchased bread and vegetables and other staples, while the apprentices went to the coal yard and picked up the cooking disks. On this day Scheherazad told the cook,

"Why don't you hire a dray to bring the coal to the palace. This will enable you to use the apprentices to scrub the floors and clean the stoves. The kitchen is filthy and a disgrace to the palace."

As she was about to leave she saw a slop bucket with a sheep's head sticking out.

"That is disgusting," she pointed, "Why do you leave it there on the floor, stinking and attracting flies?"

The cook answered, "It belongs to Omar and he comes by every day or so, and picks it up."

"Well put it outside," said the queen, "for the stench is making me sick."

Meanwhile, Dunazad and the moor went to the market and donned their disguises. Dunazad was dressed as a young boy and the Moor, an unwashed laborer. The Moor pulled the hand cart while the boy walked in front, hawking the wares. It was no coincidence that they encountered the cook when he showed up at the market.

"Can I interest you in some cooking disks?" she asked.

The cook was delighted and quickly negotiated a rate for the purchase and transport of the coal. He congratulated himself on his shrewd bargaining for he was able to obtain the service at a very reasonable price. He told the coal mongers to meet him in an hour and he would escort them back to the palace. At the appointed time he led them up the road to the gate. There, the guards stopped them and inspected the cart. They checked the disks to make sure there was nothing hidden beneath them. Looking up the soldier recognized the Cook's familiar face and motioned them through. Once inside they went to the coal bin and unloaded. When they finished the cook said,

"Well done, meet me tomorrow, at the same time and place and you can sell me another load."

Dunazad answered, "There is no need for you to wait on us. Just tell the guard to expect us and we will deliver the wares. You can pay at the end of the month."

This was agreeable and the next morning they repeated the process. Now the cook told the captain of the guard about the good deal he was getting and the Captain sent for Dunazad.

"I would like for you to give me the same price and deliver coal to the Guard House."

Dunazad agreed and the next day, after the delivering the Cook's order, went to the Guard House and serviced it as well. So it was, that within a short time, their activities became well known and accepted as a part of the palace routine.

Thus when Omar arrived for the next execution, he saw nothing unusual except for the coal mongers filling up the shed. When he returned to the cart with body, and rode out through the gate, he still saw nothing unusual, except for coal dray following him down the hill. Still he was wary of being followed and kept a close watch until he got to the checkpoint.

Now the checkpoint was a device that Omar used to insure he would not be followed. When an execution was inevitable he would notify the captain of the guard who would form the Check Point Detail. To everyone it appeared to be a random security measure but its real purpose was to stop everything going north for an hour, thereby insuring that absolutely nobody was following Omar. The soldiers loved this detail because as the traffic backed up they were able to shake down the merchants by threatening to make them unload their carts and camels and display everything on the ground. After an hour, when Omar was long gone down the road, the soldiers would fold up the checkpoint and with a pocket full of coins return to the guard house.

Thus at the checkpoint, Dunazad and the Moor watched Omar waved through, while everyone else was made to pull over and wait. When the road reopened there was no telling where his cart had gone because there were many roads in the vicinity.

Dejected, the two came back to the market and put the dray in its stall. Then they began taking off their disguises and putting on their normal attire. As they did, Dunazad noticed the muscular body of the Moor. His biceps bulged, his thighs were thick and his buttocks were sculpted like two large melons. She had never seen a man before, in this state of undress, and the sight excited emotions she had never before experienced. When they finished changing they returned once more to the palace.

"Don't be disappointed," Scheherazad told her sister. "We have made much progress. What we need to do now is find a way to follow once the roadblock is lifted."

"Oh, is that all?" Dunazad inquired.

Scheherazad thought on the matter and suddenly had an idea.

"Why not take a pot, drill some small holes and fill it with dye. Attach the pot to the bottom of Omar's cart, and as it bumps along it will leave a trail you can follow."

This seemed like a good idea so the next day they got a pot and some dye and began to experiment. After much trial and error they came up with a fluid that was of the right consistency and an orifice that was the right size. The nozzle dispensed the die slowly, in small drops, in a manner that left a slight trail. While the trail was not obvious to the casual observer, it was enough to follow, even though the road was dusty and well traveled.

Two days later they tried again. When Omar showed up early in the morning the blackamoor, under cover of darkness, slipped under the cart and attached the dispensing pot. When the roadblock was lifted the two were able to follow the cart for several hours until the fluid ran out. This was at a crossroads over ten miles from the city. While they looked carefully about there were no clues as to the direction that Omar had taken. Disappointed Dunazad climbed into the cart and the Moor pulled them back to the city.

At the market they put the dray in it's stall and changed once more out of their disguises.

Now Dunazad had not forgotten her feelings the night before and being a bold and fearless young girl confronted them directly. When the Moor's back was bare and his buttock turned opposite she spoke up.

"Do you have a name? Besides Blackamoor?"

"My name is Mohamed Shazan," he replied.

"Tell me Mohamed," she continued. "Is it true that men of your race have a manhood of exceptional size?"

"I have heard it rumored," the moor answered.

"Show me yours that I may see for myself."

"Do not embarrass me," the moor answered.

"Embarrass you?" she retorted, "Did you not show it to Esmeralda, and scare the wits out of her?"

"I did as the king instructed," he countered.

"You know how I feel about liars?"

"With you it's different," he replied, "I am uncomfortable, flopping it out for no reason."

"Oh spare me your scruples. Now turn around and look at my breasts."

The moor turned and saw Dunazad holding up her halter.

"Now you do the same and let me see your manhood."

The moor untied his corset and let it fall to the ground.

Dunazad stared in amazement. This was her first sight of a man's visage and it was much larger than what she expected. She looked at it and tried to imagine how her body could accept a member of such girth. Shaking her head she walked over to him.

"Do you like the look of these," She asked?

His eyes shone, "They are wholesome and your fonts are delightful."

"Would you like to kiss them?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered.

"Then go ahead."

His mouth closed about her bosoms, going from one to another, as his tongue stroked her nipples. It was a delightful sensation and she allowed him to continue it for some time.

"Do you mind if I touch it?" she asked.

"No," he answered.

"Is that No, you don't mind or No, you won't let me?"

"Go ahead."

With her hand she reached down and grabbed hold of his sinew.

He groaned.

"May I kiss it," she inquired

"Yes," he answered.

Going to her knees she took him in her mouth and began teasing the head with her tongue. After awhile he could bear it no more.

"Enough," he said, pulling her up by the shoulders. "It's time we returned to the palace."

She looked into his eyes and smiled. "Don't let me forget where we left off."







© Copyright 2009 percy goodfellow (trebor at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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