The Captive Flesh by Cleo Cordell

course. But for now you are our guests. It is an honour to welcome you. First you must eat and take your ease. After, I will show you where you may sleep. Then you may wish to bathe.’
    She clapped her hands. Marietta and Claudine were led to a divan and made comfortable amongst embroidered silk cushions. Food soon arrived, served in dishes on low tables of carved and gilded wood. There was no cutlery and Marietta hesitated to eat with her fingers. Leyla saw her embarrassment and, dipping her fingers into a bowl, showed them both how it was done.
    Marietta was famished and ate everything put in front of her. The food was delicious: aubergines stuffed with peppers and onions; fish in a delicately spiced sauce; fluffy rice; and sherbets, cool fruit drinks. After eating they washed their hands in bowls of rose-scented water. Across the room a woman began playing a musical instrument. Another sang.
    Claudine relaxed against the cushions. A tray of sugared nuts was placed beside her and something that looked like a brass lamp, entwined by a snake. Leyla explained that it was a
nargileh
, a water pipe. Marietta was fascinated to see that the women smoked it with relish. They offered it to Claudine. Giggling she tried it and, finding it to her taste, began to smoke with enthusiasm.
    â€˜Do try it, Marietta. It is quite delightful. The tobacco is perfumed and very cool.’
    Marietta declined to smoke.
    â€˜Would you like to bathe then?’ Leyla said. ‘Your friend is comfortable here. Let us leave her to entertain the women. We do not have many visitors. Any diversion is welcome.’
    Claudine waved the pipe tube, looking completely at ease. ‘You go, Marietta,’ she said, ‘I’ll join you later.’
    She was plainly flattered by all the attention. A group of women had gathered around her, admiring her pale skin, stroking her red-gold hair. The golden freckles on the skin above her neckline caused many comments. One of the women unwound a sparkling blue sash from her waist and held it up against Claudine’s skin.
    â€˜Women of your fair colouring are a rarity in these regions,’ Leyla said to Marietta. ‘You will be made much of here. But others will be jealous. Stay close to me. I will protect you.’
    Protect her from what? Marietta wondered, and was about to ask, but Leyla was leading the way across the room, her slim sandalled feet making no sound on the thick colourful rugs. Claudine’s infectious bell-like laugh rang out. It seemed that this place, with its luxury and promise of sensual delights, was already working its spell on her friend.
    â€˜Come, Marietta,’ Leyla said, in her soft husky voice. ‘I will take you to the hammam where all worries and fears are put aside for a time, and there is only the enjoyment of the perfumed water. If you are tired, you will be invigorated. If you are tense, you will become relaxed.’
    It was just what Marietta needed to hear. She went with Leyla, gladly.
    â€˜This is the hammam – the baths,’ Leyla explained. ‘It is more than a place of cleansing. Here we meet to relax and exchange gossip. Only women are allowed. The men have separate baths in different parts of the house.’
    The ballroom at Marietta’s house in Martinique was not as fine. Here, tall narrow columns soared up to a coloured skylight and the walls and floors were inlaid with tiles. A dense perfumed vapour hung over the room and a plunge pool occupied the centre of it. The surface of the water was level with the floor.
    A number of women, naked or partially clothed, were being attended by slaves holding dishes of sweetmeats. Some of them swam in the pool, others sat on the sides drying their hair with fluffy towels. More of them sat around talking or reclining on cushioned platforms.
    They were all beautiful.
    A woman walked up to Leyla wearing only a pair ofbath shoes and a loose gauze robe. A jewelled sash was tied loosely on