Date: Mon, 13 Mar 2000 02:40:50 EST
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: PofD4:Secret.of.the.Turtle.Men.19

		   SECRET OF THE TURTLE MEN, CHAPTER 19
			       "The Banquet"
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM

     Pavel, secure now in Medina Jadeed and knowing that Mahmoud did not
intend to harm him (though the why of that startling revelation needed to
be told, the fact itself was clear enough), fell soundly asleep even as he
was being washed.  He slept well and when he awoke, it was well after
nightfall.  He found that while he had slept, Mahmoud and the servants had
washed and dried his body and even moved him to clean, dry cushions without
waking him.  He had even slept somehow through the afternoon mist; perhaps
it had been blocked from his room to permit him to sleep.  He felt fine.
     Pavel sat up and got to his feet, roused and stretched languorously.
It had been some time since he had last felt safe.  A person had to spend
some time feeling his life was in danger before they could appreciate that
simple fact; to be alive, clean, well-fed, and absolutely safe!  It was a
wonderful thing, absolutely wonderful!
     A man-servant came through the tapestries, softly, but then saw Pavel
was awake, he straightened and smiled, showing an even set of white teeth
across a handsomely square face, deep brown skin and eyes like jet, hair
clean and shiny black, wearing the pants and abbreviated vest of a palace
servant that accentuated his well-built chest, but he was also young and
his body showed that, the gleam of skin undimmed by age, still vibrant and
glowing from the growth spurt the body takes throughout childhood, so that
all the skin is fresh and smooth.
     "You are awake, my Sultan." the man said.  "Mahmoud is in consultation
with your counselors.  Shall I fetch him for you?"
     "That is not necessary." Pavel said.  "Let him continue his
consultation."
     Pavel dressed with Tariq's help.  He let Tariq do this, knowing it was
his duty and proud privilege.  Besides, a fellow could get used to this!
Done, he said, "My husband mentioned a banquet.  When will it be served?"
     "Whenever you wish." Tariq said, but his face said it wasn't ready
just yet and he would have to tell this to Pavel if Pavel insisted.
     Pavel smiled.  "I would not have it served before it is ready.  But I
wish to spend a moment with my friends while not delaying the meal.  So
when will it be ready?"
     "Perhaps another hour." Tariq informed him.  "Shall I bring your
friends to you now?"
     "Better, take me to them." Pavel's stomach protested, he had missed
lunch and was hungry!  He followed Tariq through the palace, admiring those
lithe trim buttocks.  Yes, a fellow could get used to this life!
     Pelen, Jethro and Jassem were in a small room built of hanging
tapestries, and seated in a sea of cushions, surrounded by more of the
servants.  Pelen saw him first and got up and ran to him with a glad sound
of joy.  Pavel let Pelen embrace him and Pelen said, "You're safe!"
     "Why shouldn't I be, here in my own home?" Pavel grinned down at the
earnest face.
     "But you said...."
     Pavel laid a finger on Pelen's lips.  "I was wrong, so let us not
speak of it further.  Mahmoud is very glad to see me, and I came here
mostly to try and find out why.  Jassem, when I return, Mahmoud has to step
down as ruler and become a house-husband.  But he was quite happy to see me
again.  Why?"
     "I see what Pavel means." Jethro said.  "Wouldn't it be simplest for
him to kill Pavel and hide the body?"
     Jassem had become somewhat used to these questions by now and so
didn't evince any surprise.  "Mahmoud was once ruler of Medina Jadeed.
Like any ruler, he had to do many things to obtain and then keep that
power.  A ruler must make and keep promises, watch over the welfare of his
people, many things, so any who strive for such power will do all that it
takes to keep it."
     His face searched visibly for words to explain to them.  "Assuming
that Mahmoud is a dishonorable man, which he is not, how can one murder
their mate and be sure of the success in their ruse? It takes only an
unobserved witness, or a whisper from the associates in the crime, and his
line would fall in dishonor.  He holds the power even while Pavel is here,
for Pavel does not want the power.  His dynasty is secure with his sons
adopted by Pavel, and his power is as much as it was before.  No, he would
gain nothing by Pavel's death, he could only lose.  But I tell you that I
know Mahmoud better than any of you and I say that he is devoted to his
husband because he is an honorable man who follows the rules and customs of
our people.  The fact that those are not the customs you grew up with does
not change the fact that he obeys the customs.  He is a good and honorable
man and a wise ruler.  Even as my father Rashid conspired against him in
order to gain his own power, I could see that."
     "So you married well." Jethro said.  "Very well indeed."  And Jethro
looked significantly around at the guards, the lush surroundings, and by
inference, the entire city of Medina Jadeed.
     "I guess." Pavel said.  "Though there are times I wish I weren't
married."  He looked at Pelen as he said this, and Pelen blushed, an
intriguing sight on his face, the pinkish cheeks and the orange hair.
     "You can take a second husband." Jassem said, seeing this.  "A sultan
shows his power by taking more than one husband.  And it isn't unusual for
the sultan to prefer the company of those other than his first husband.
Nothing bars you from marrying...anyone that you would."
     "There are the customs of other peoples to consider." Pavel said.
"And that can be a barrier bigger than any other."
     "You're telling me!" Efram said as he strode arrogantly into the room
and seated himself on one of the cushions as if he owned the place.  "I've
visited over twenty valleys and the differences in all the customs can be
downright bothersome to a simple merchant like myself."
     "Twenty, eh?" Jethro said.  "Well, you can't have been to Connobar
yet."
     "Eh?  Why not?"
     "You're still alive." Jethro said significantly.
     Efram laughed again.  "I like you, kid.  You get tired of this
do-gooder, you come look me up and I'll put you to work.  You'll see more
of this world with me than you ever would with him."  A servant entered the
room with a bowl, and Pavel quickly helped himself to a couple of the small
fruits his bowl bore.
     "Yes, I wanted to talk to you about that...that hall of doors." Pavel
said, juice dripping off his chin in the carelessness of his hunger.
Jethro's term "hall of doors" was rapidly becoming a name for the odd
place.  "We want to rescue our friends in the Djinni Valley...."
     "Including the ones you just stranded there." Jethro added.
     "....  Yes." Pavel settled for saying.  "We need to use that place to
get to them, to send a force into their valley and surprise them.  What
terms would you offer for us using it like that?"
     Efram shrugged and acted blase, but you could tell that he had
expected this.  "I'm sure we could work something out."
     Pavel pressed him.  "This method of travel you have is very important
to all of our valleys.  You must have known that when you took us out
through it."
     "Yes, that's why I didn't take you out through the main one." Efram
said significantly.
     "What's that?" Jethro said.
     "You don't think that particular set of doors is the only one on this
planet, do you?  There are a lot of them, most of them disguised and
hidden.  I knew when I brought you out that you would want to try to take
it from me.  That set of doors is too close to Medina Jadeed anyway, it was
only a matter of time before the Sultan here learned about it."
     "How does it work?" Pavel asked.
     "Do I look like a scientist?" Efram said.  "You walk in one door and
it brings you out elsewhere.  Go through the doors at either end of the
hall, and you go to other hallways which have doors that can bring you out
other places.  I bought that door from my predecessor strictly as a
back-up.  You never know when one of those doors is going to take out on
you, and start dumping people some other place."
     "Like the one filled with water?" Jassem said, remembering.
     "Yeah, you're lucky you didn't go out through that one blindly.  You
would have been in deep water.  I've used it to get rid of some men who had
become a hazard to me.  They step through and, poof, they're never heard
from again."
     "So you are interested in selling that hall of doors?"
     "That particular one, yes." Efram said.  "It has six functioning
doors, and none of them drop you off into my home valley and the end doors
are both non-functional, so it's a safe sale to make.  And it'll do for
you, it'll get you from here to Connobar.  Or the Angel Valley, or the
place the Slan have taken over or the Djinni Valley where you can rescue
your friends.  You can see the problem with diving out that door, don't
you?"
     "The mist." Pavel agreed.
     "The source is just the other side of that doorway." Efram agreed.  "I
wish you and your men luck in rescuing your comrades, but don't look at me
to try to help you do it."
     "We wouldn't trust you anyway." Jethro affirmed.
     "So what is the price?" Pavel asked.
     "Better yet, what's the price of one of those other doors, one without
the mist." Jethro interjected.
     "Not for sale." Efram said.  "And before you decide to try to take
them from me, let me point out that we have other things from the builders
of this world to use against unhappy customers."
     "Threats from a guest?" Mahmoud said as he entered the room.
     "Negotiations." Efram clarified.
     "Wonderful." Mahmoud said and sat down.  "This is a task for the wazir
to the Sultan.  What is being negotiated?"
     Pavel told Mahmoud about the hall of doors and Mahmoud took over the
issue of price.  Pavel just sat back and admired.  His erstwhile husband
was turning out to be a very useful man indeed.  And both of these men
talked the language of money, largely a mystery to Pavel.  Soon enough,
Mahmoud had negotiated the outright purchase of the hall of doors from
Efram.
     Pavel spoke up when the negotiation was done.  "So now Medina Jadeed
controls the entryways to several valleys." he said.  "But doesn't our
invasion of the Djinni Valley put you people out of work."
     "If the Djinni slaves were our only source of income, it would." Efram
shrugged.  "There are other valleys."
     Pavel could tell Efram knew more than he was saying, but decided to
let it pass.  Tell Mahmoud, who could invite Efram back and cultivate his
friendship and learn of it.  It was something for the wazir of Medina
Jadeed to do, anyway.
     "So now let's talk about how to get our people free from the Djinni."
     "We can speak of that after the banquet." Mahmoud said.  "Let us go to
the dining chamber."
     It had puzzled Pavel, for Arabs had an early breakfast and then lunch
at noon at about the hours he was used to, but then they would sleep for
some four or five hours and their third meal of the day was served well
after dark.  By sleeping as long as he had, he hadn't really missed
anything at all.  Except the lunch he had skipped that same mid-day by
sleeping through it.  So Pavel was quite ready to dig heavily into the
banquet meal.  He was pleased to see that a long, low table was before the
inevitable rows of cushions to sit upon, and that he was seated in the
middle of the table (of course) with Mahmoud to his right and Pelen to his
left.
     Knowing that they commonly used a large single bowl to serve several
at one time, Pavel was startled at the separate plates of food they were
offered, until he realized that since most of the guests were non-Muslims,
the plates were served in deference to them.  So he had a quite
Western-style meal, though with Arabian dishes.  They had even brought
forks from somewhere, though they were quite large and probably intended
for the kitchen rather than the table.  Pavel ate happily and heavily.
     But though Medina Jadeed did not suffer the constant depredation of
the mist as did his own valley, the foods they served were just as potent
on their own.  He had been aroused by the fruit from before the meal,
leaving him uncomfortably priapic, a constant menace on this planet.  He
wondered if the banquet would be cut short in order to let people disperse
to their bedrooms.
     But after the first dint of eating, done in the Arab style of
rapid-fire stuffing of food (to which he had happily cooperated), Mahmoud
clapped his hands and in came musicians and dancers.  Pavel recognized the
musicians as the ones who had played at his marriage to Mahmoud.  And the
dancers...one of them was the handsome young Tariq.
     In a world without women, these young men had taken on the role of the
"belly dancers" but this was no mimic of a female dance; they had turned
the seductive dance into one of their own style with a distinctly masculine
power.  With smoothly sinuous gliding motions, their lithe movements
further inflamed his already aroused desire.  As the music played on, the
energy of the dancers grew stronger and stronger.  Pavel looked about at
his comrades, the bandits, Mahmoud, and all of them were watching the dance
with the same intensity.
     Of course; the food!  Any banquet must presuppose this result of the
food!  In his own valley, the time after meals was often a time of sexual
release as the diners retired to ease their aching groins.
     "Are they not wonderful, my husband?" Mahmoud said as he put an arm
around Pavel.
     "Wonderful." Pavel agreed.
     "You have not yet been given a banquet." Mahmoud said.  "You refused
to attend the one the night before you left our valley."
     "I remember." Pavel gasped out.  He had mistrusted Mahmoud and so
declined to join the banquet in his own honor.  He regretted that now.  "My
husband." He said after a time.  "I...I burn.  The food has done the work
of the mist upon me."
     "Yes, we all feel it, though none as strong as you." Mahmoud said,
"But we have evolved customs to deal with this.  You should choose first
from among these dancers to ease your body after the meal." Mahmoud
gestured to the dancers.
     This was an motion of his hand which had been expected, the dancers
immediately came up to him one at a time, in a dancing chain of gyrating,
male presence.  There were twenty of them, one each for every man at this
banquet.
     "How do I make my choice known?" Pavel saw Tariq was the next in line
to dance before him.
     "You but gesture to him, and he will bow." Mahmoud said.  There was no
trace of jealousy in his voice.  But a servant was no threat to his
position, anyone could make love to a servant without introducing him
further into the household.  "At the end of the dance, he will come to
you."
     "Ah, then let the dance end soon!" Pavel saw Tariq come up and didn't
delay, but gestured him forward.  Tariq smiled and bowed, and that shifted
the focus of the dance to Mahmoud, the next dancer came forward to him.
     On and on the dance went, but as each man was selected, he withdrew
from this circuit, and so each selection presented to the remaining guests
was shorter.  Efram and his men were quick to realize what was going on,
and so the dance continued only for five more agonizing minutes, and the
choices were all done.  The last of Efram's men was left with the last
dancing servant, and the music was done, starting right up with another
tune.  The musicians must have eaten some time before or were waiting until
after the banquet, for them to be able to play as the dancing servants came
up and used their tune to remove their clothing in a synchronous movement.
Rather like a strip-tease, Pavel decided, remembering a scene from one of
the films shown him during the lull in the war with Connobar.  But that had
been a woman, those odd creatures he had never seen in the flesh, with
their oddly distorted chests and obscenely bouncing globes of fat they bore
there.  It had only repelled Pavel.
     But not this agile, muscled man, whose chest was a firm ridge between
his well-formed biceps, a dark top-heavy trapezoid of male body covered in
smooth deep brown skin, and smiling eyes and mouth, that came to him
gladly, gladly!
     Across the table of half-eaten food, Tariq came to him, stepping
smoothly between the dishes thereon with his dark bare feet and their
surprisingly white soles in a ring around the bottom, and Pavel tore open
the binding at his waist (oh, the ever-practical Arabs, to modify their
clothing to let this be easy!) and he thrust up his manhood as Tariq's
smooth body came to straddle his own.
     Tariq's hand, which held a small bulb Pavel hadn't noticed during the
dance, came down over Pavel's erect prong and the hand squeezed and the
bulb burst not like glass but like a plant husk, and upon Pavel's cock
poured the very essence of the mist; if he hadn't been inflamed with lust
before, he was now!
     But this oil which set his cock ablaze with need, also coated it, and
Tariq slid his body down to a squat, and then a kneel, and Pavel's prick
slid into those beautiful, beautiful buttocks with the greatest ease!
     "Ah, hah!" Pavel threw his head back and groaned.  The mist of the
afternoon hadn't left him entirely untouched, the wonder was that he had
been so preoccupied since then that he hadn't noticed just how his body
yelled for this, begged for release, and now that it had the stimulation of
the slender adept ass wrapped around it, his cock screamed and took over
his body's controls so that Pavel was now effectively mindless in his
passion, in his need.
     Tariq writhed as he bobbled up and down on Pavel's cock, wringing
Pavel's cock of every ounce of pleasure with each motion.  Pavel stroked
the young, brown body, feeling that smooth warmth, reached out to taste the
lightly-flavored skin, so clean with just the faintest savor of musk born
of the exertions of the dance.  Tariq tasted of honey, of light oil, of
life!
     All around him, others of the banquet party had their partners from
the dance and were now writhing in a coupling of a more intimate nature.
Jethro had a strongly muscled man, whom he was almost wrestling with, for
Jethro only needed the guy to hold still and his talented pud would take
care of the rest!  Jassem had a youth who seemed almost his twin, the same
shade of brown intertwined so that it was difficult to see which was which.
And beside him, Pelen allowed a servant to suck on his cock, but his eyes
watched Pavel with what seemed to be jealousy.
     Pavel grinned at Pelen, and got a timid smile in response, but then
Pavel sagged back, his passion growing within him, and his groans raised in
tempo and Pelen's agitation increased.  Tariq was so beautiful upon him,
riding him like the guards of Mahmoud rode their stallions across the wide
plains, and Pavel turned his attentions wholly back to this beautiful,
beautiful young dark-skinned lover.
     And found a pale hand shoving that dark-toned body aside, and now
Pelen was clambering atop him.  Pavel looked at him, eyes glazed with his
passion, his cock ached with the emptiness of the open air, and then
Pelen's ass seized upon him with a fury and a vengeance!
     "Ah, now, now, now!" Pelen groaned as he rode Pavel hard, no delicate
grace here, but a savage abduction of his body.
     Tariq didn't seem put out by this, he reached out to kiss Pavel's lips
in an effort to increase Pavel's pleasure, but again Pelen shoved him aside
almost petulantly, and Pelen leaned over to cover Pavel's body, prevent
anyone else from touching Pavel.
     Pavel hunched upwards into Pelen, and Pelen's cock was a white-hot
shaft that burned Pavel's stomach, and Pavel humped into Pelen as well as
he could in this awkward position, and his long-denied and much-abused cock
erupted in furious response, bursting into Pelen with a drenching flood of
jism.
     Pelen gasped as Pavel's come hit his ass, and Pavel felt the stinging
hot seed spurt from Pelen's body and drench his stomach, flooding out his
navel and turning it into a pearl-colored pool of man-juice, and Pavel
seized those lips on that beautiful pale body and he kissed Pelen hard, and
was kissed back even harder!
     As Pavel sagged into his exhausted relief, his ears were pummeled by
the sounds of male lust all about him; he had reached his climax first.
Small reason, he thought dreamily, skipping his mid-day fuck; what had they
been thinking?  Had he slept that heavily?
     After a time, the servants arose and withdrew from the many spent
bodies now lying satiated upon the covers.  Mahmoud rang a bell and a light
juice drink was served; Pavel found it reinvigorated him greatly.
     "Now, my friends and allies, now that we have the passage to the
Djinni Valley, we must decide how to best use it." Mahmoud said.  "My
husband, I have sent a messenger out to contact the Ifriti, he is calling
to them steadily as he rides per my instructions.  We should make ready to
perform our rescue as early as tomorrow night."
     "The problem is still that mist coming out of the Djinni side of the
door." Efram reminded him.
     "That is a problem that can be overcome, with the Ifriti's help."
Mahmoud said confidently.  "We shall enter after nightfall and the Ifriti
can enter the valley and help us hold the position while we bring our
forces through."
     "You still can't bring enough men in to fight that crowd." Jethro
pointed out once more.  "Unless you have a lot more people here than I've
been seeing, the Djinni will rouse and overwhelm you."
     "Trust that my people have not been entirely idle on this problem."
Mahmoud said.  "We have suffered the raids of the Djinni and Ifriti for
many generations.  Our problem has always been the one of their flight, but
with flying aid of our own, we can overcome it at last.  If we can get
enough people into position quickly enough."
     "Yeah, those doors are small." Jethro agreed.  Hardly bigger than a
door inside of a house.  Call it six feet by three feet, but it's not even
that, I think, I had to duck my head down to go through it.  Bumped my head
on it going in from the Djinni Valley."
     "Well, I wish you all a lot of luck." Efram said.  "We plan to go back
to our own valley tomorrow."
     "But won't you stay longer?" Mahmoud said.  "You will need to make
arrangements for the many jewels we have chosen for you, for the rescue of
my husband and the sale of the passageway.  You should stay and examine the
treasury."
     Pavel hid a smile.  Efram could well go out and warn the Djinni.
Mahmoud would be hospitable, but he didn't intend to let Efram leave.  He
noted that the guards had moved into position.
     Efram noticed this as well, and how they stood eyeing him and his
friends.  "We'll be glad to accept your hospitality." he said.  "After all,
you can't take the chance one of my friends here might talk to the wrong
person."
     "I am sure they wouldn't think of betraying our plans." Mahmoud said
smoothly.
     "We still don't have enough men." Jethro said.
     "Yes, let us speak of how to increase our numbers." Mahmoud said to
the young Connobaran.
     And their council of war went on into the night.

			     END OF CHAPTER 19