Dahran

This is the twentieth first chapter ex twenty two of a novel about slavery and gay sex.

Keywords: authority, control, loyalty, slavery, punishment, re-training, submission, gay, sex

This story is entirely a work of fiction and all rights to it and its characters are copyright, and private to and reserved by the author. No reproduction by anyone for any reason whatsoever is permitted.

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The Special Memories by Gerry Taylor

Chapter 21 - The Attack and Trial

I was at work at the Bank when the Police Captain called at the Lime Palace and asked for me. Aziz confirmed I would be back just after five and the Captain said he would return. Aziz informed me immediately when I arrived back from the Bank that the Police Captain had looked worried.

I had no sooner changed out of my office clothes, than Food informed me that the Police Captain was downstairs waiting on the veranda to see me. I told Food to bring him into the study; I would be down immediately and to have Bob prepare some of his limejuice for us.

The Police Captain looked immaculate as usual. He never seemed to perspire at all in the heat and the afternoon had been quite warm.

Bob arrived and offered us limejuice. I noticed that while the Police Captain took one sip, it otherwise remained untouched on a side table beside the study sofa.

`Captain, why are you looking so worried?'

It was impolite of me to cut across and cut short the usual small talk which is customary in Dahra. The Captain did not seem in the mood for it.

`There have been a number of very serious attacks on outlying properties and palaces in the past month, Sir Jonathan.'

He named three places at the northern end of the Sheikdom, where three rich families had been attacked and robbed at gunpoint. His information was that the `brigands', as he termed them, were apparently working their way south. Each of the families attached were in the outlying areas and each household had a local reputation for either cash or wealth.

I did not like the sound of this at all and I stopped him before he could go any further.

`Would you mind if some of my overseers heard what you have to say?'

`Not at all, Sir Jonathan.'

`Let me get them assembled. Some are at the other Palace and will have to be called.'

I rang the bell on my desk and Ben, my secretary, appeared from nowhere, followed by Bob.

`Bob, ask Flavio to prepare some light food for the Captain here and for myself.'

`And the other policeman, Boss?'

Seeing my lack of understanding, he added `Out in the courtyard, Boss.'

`My assistant and driver, Sir Jonathan,' the Captain added.

`Tell, Flavio, some snack food for three. Invite the driver to sit in the shade on the veranda and then come back here with Food and Drink.'

I noticed the Captain had not objected to the food, which implied he had not eaten in a long time.

`Ben, get on the computer and find out how many of the overseers have military training or experience. Do me a printout.'

`When did you last eat, Captain?'

`At first light this morning. I have been with five of your neighbours during the day so far. My colleagues are doing the same throughout the Sheikdom on a one-to-one basis and it was a personal order from the Sheik that I speak with you today.'

The more I heard the less I liked it.

Ben Trant came across the study with a single page of names.

`Ben, now get me a list of all the slaves who also have received military training.'

I stared at the list. There was Greg Logan, the former commando, Yuriy Obov, the former Spetnaz Captain. Dumi Bod, Radek Pachlik, Yedo Petrov, Aziz's assistant and four other assistant overseers who had done military service.

Ben came back with a much longer list of almost eighty names of slaves who had been in the military, including the two Kazakhs, Raoul Sounard and a lot of the East Europeans.

Bob appeared with Food and Drink in tow. I ordered Food to have Yuriy, Radek and Pete Downings the head of household to come immediately. Drink was dispatched to get Aziz, Yedo, Dumi and Greg Logan. Bob was to call the other four assistant overseers. All were to assemble in the main dining room off the veranda.

Flavio never ceases to amaze me, because as I finished dispatching the runners, he came in to say that food was now ready and did I want it in the study or on the veranda. I said on the veranda. I needed the fresh air.

The Police Captain's assistant snapped to attention as we came out and I told him and the Captain to sit down as Marko and Flavio laid out extra items on the table.

I realised I also wanted Stan to sit in on this meeting and turned to Marko and told him to get Stan here immediately.

He replied in Arabic `Yes, Master' as it was afternoon and we normally spoke Arabic in the afternoons and he sprinted off.

We had just finished eating some rolls and sliced meats when the first of the overseers started to arrive and I had Ben marshal them into the dining room.

Within ten minutes all twelve who had been summoned were there in the dining room. I signalled Aziz and Pete to sit at my right and left hands, then Yuriy and Dumi to one side with the Police Captain and his assistant at the other side, but able to see those assistant overseers who were still left standing.

`Captain, please outline again, what you have told me.'

The Police Captain gave a summary of what I had already heard.

It was he who said, `Are there any questions?'

There were over a half an hour of questions, ranging from the reliability of the information to the type of weapons to the casualties in the previous raids. It was a case where the military mind looks at matters quite differently. I said not a word.

I noticed that Yuriy, Greg and Stan seemed to be the most concerned of those present. While they were asking precise questions as to weaponry, means of arrival and departure of the raiders, I called over Ben who had been hovering in the background and told him to get two Johnny Gresham paperbacks from the library and to put a thousand euro from the safe in an envelope inside each of the novels.

The meeting was winding down. I asked a question which no one else had.

`Why would any brigand or raider want to attack what are essentially farms here at the Lime and Aloe Palaces.'

Farms to you, Sir Jonathan, but a source of rich plunder to thieves,' and the Captain reached forward and with a finger raised the gold necklace of Dumi Bod who was the overseer nearest to him. It is a known fact you give each of your slaves a valuable gold necklace.'

The Police Captain was now anxious to go. He had still another family to see further west. When Ben handed me the two novels, I caught the glimpse of a smile on the Captain's assistant's lips for a second as he spotted the books.

As we walked out to the police jeep, I gave the Captain one of the books -- `when you have time to relax and read. Was this your colleague who stayed out on the road the last time?'

It was.

`Have you read any of Mr. Gresham's novels?' I asked.

`Only one, Sir Jonathan.'

`I hope you will enjoy this one' and he accepted the book with a wide grin.

The officers left a printed sheet of some emergency numbers for contacting in the event of attack.

It was the last time we had time to smile for some days.

I told Pete Downings where the safe room was in the Aloe Palace, how to get into it and what to do when inside. He was surprised at its existence behind the large bookcase in the library. The Aloe Palace was the most vulnerable, as it was old and, from a defensive position, poorly laid out.

For once, I was truly grateful to the German firm which had put in our protection at the Lime Palace. The first line of defence was to seal the actual Palace and each of the outside slave quarters and that would be simplicity itself. In each building of both the Palace and slave quarters, when a small red lever was pulled down on any floor, steel shutters would crash down at all ground floor entrances and windows and on every window on the first floor.

Then there was the ultra-safe room on the ground floor the location of which was known only to myself and Aziz. There was also a safe room on the first floor -- my bathroom - and on the second floor -- another room which usually appeared to be empty to a passing glance.

There was no real protection on the roofs from an air attack, or through the upper windows of the Palace.

The second line of defence at the Lime Palace was a simple electronic raising of the drain covers which ran from wall to wall at every entrance to the courtyards. When the drain covers rose and turned themselves upside down, small spikes were revealed on the underside of each one. No vehicle could drive into the courtyard with impunity.

The third line of defence, which was our first line of attack, came at the suggestion of Stan, the property overseer. In the event of fire, two high-pressure hoses had been built into the roof fixtures of each of the slave quarters buildings and four into the roof of the Lime Palace. I had seen them in the original drawings, but had not really made any comment on them other than noting that they were recessed into the upper parapets of the buildings, but slid out so that the water could be directed by a fire-hose at the next building in the event of fire. What it also meant was the water cannon -- for that is what they were -- could also be directed down into the courtyards.

All the attacks so far had happened at night, under the cover of darkness, so it was reasonable to assume that if any attack came this far south, it too would be at night.

There was no effective defence of the Aloe Palace, so with the exception of Pete Downings and his lover Randy, who would not leave Pete on his own, all overseers and slaves who were or might have occasion to sleep at the Aloe Palace transferred each evening to the Lime Palace for safety, closing down and locking all the buildings as far as that was possible. A determined raider would certainly have been able to gain access.

It was clear the overseers were looking to Yuriy for a plan of defence. I noticed that Greg Logan, though a former commando recognised in Yuriy both his tactical and battlefield training on the Afghan border.

All the overseers were therefore issued with the wristwatch devices which showed the approach of vehicles. They were re-set to show anything moving over twenty miles per hour. Secondly, all the overseers were issued with an ear-to-mouth microphone which they were to wear in reception' mode from the morning of the arrival of the devices. A simple finger-click on the earpiece and it went into transmit' mode, which allowed over thirty of us to be in simultaneous contact.

I thought it not only fair, but prudent, to tell all the slaves of the problem we faced, so at midday on the day following the visit by the Police Captain when all had returned from the fields, I had them all assembled.

Nigh on six hundred faces there was puzzlement. No assembly, or inspection, had ever taken place at midday. The courtyard itself was quite hot, so I made my announcement brief and I noticed a level of fear among some of the slaves. Some of the more recent arrivals had not good English or Arabic and it took some minutes for the gist of my message to be made clear to them.

`For the defence of the Lime Palace, we are going to need some volunteers for various jobs. But before, asking for volunteers, does anyone have any questions?'

One hand went up and a voice asked in Arabic `How many raiders are there?'

`From what we are told, not less than six and not more than twelve in the attacks so far.'

Another hand went up and a voice in English asked, `Master, why would they attack so far south?'

`The answer, I am told, usually lies around your own neck. The raiders have heard that there is a lot of gold at the Lime Palace.'

I let the message sink in. What made us a possible target were the gold necklaces of almost six hundred slaves. The gold would be worth over half a million euro. The gold necklace was a slave's sole possession after full training at thirty days and now I sensed not fear in the courtyard, but anger. Anger, at the attempt to take the only item that any of them owned.

`Until the danger has passed, we are going to need volunteers to act as lookouts on the rooftops of the Palace buildings during the night. Are there any who wish to volunteer? If so, take a step forward.'

I think the overseers were taken aback when the entire courtyard seemed to move forward a pace. Anger had turned, at the very least, into a desire of self-protection.

It was Greg Logan's logistics that came to the rescue spreading the vigils throughout the day and night, with twenty required on the rooftops at any one time, two per water-cannon. A chance was given to all who required a once-off trial on how to throw the on-off water switch and how to aim the water-cannon, not towards a building, but towards the ground. Twelve teams of twenty were organised to give twenty four hour coverage on a two hour shift of vigil duty.

It was the one time I was really glad of the natural pressure in both wells, which had originally sent water two hundred feet into the air, because when the water-cannons were tested, they had all the force of water-cannons on tugboats without the slightest loss of pressure as the water was coming directly from the wells themselves.

No further attack had occurred for almost a week since the third one up north. One opinion said the raiders had gone away. An opposing opinion denied that statement, without any foundation, except prudence. And prudence paid off. The attack came in the pre-dawn, just after four o`clock on the sixth day. It was our good fortune that the attack was noticed just as one new team of twenty was relieving the previous team.

Two vehicles appeared on all wristwatches at the same time, both coming in from the West Road and both heading for the Lime Palace. They were driving without lights, but at over thirty miles an hour.

Each of the overseers in the buildings and in the Palace itself activated the lowering of the shutters on the first two floors over every building. Stan himself activated the raising of the shore and drain covers.

I was worried about Pete and Randy in the Aloe Palace and told Pete on my mouthpiece microphone to get into the safe room. He told me they were already there, but had not closed the door. I told him to do it, because that would raise the alarm not only with Dahra security, but with the Bank's local security people as well.

After all our preparations, the actual attack coming in two jeeps was an anti-climax. The first jeep with four occupants barrelled into the courtyard or at least attempted to. Driving without lights, its front wheels hit the open shore at speed and flipped over on its side spilling the four raiders in it out onto the courtyard. One went through the windscreen and died instantly as I was subsequently told. Another hit the wall of one of the slave-quarters and broke his arm in two places.

The raiders in the second jeep not knowing precisely what had happened in the dark brought their vehicle screeching to a halt, but not before its front wheels went into the shore. Its occupants jumped out and ran firing automatic weapons into the walls of the buildings around the courtyard. There were the most almighty reverberations and sounds of breaking glass as the acoustics of the courtyard created echoes.

However, the sound of the automatic fire was short-lived as twenty water cannons came into play and quite literally washed the remaining six raiders up the courtyard, down the courtyard and finally pinned four of them up against the walls of buildings. The other two were unconscious in the middle of the courtyard from the force of the blasts of water.

The automatic weapons were quite simply washed away from any raider once they had been dropped. The steel shutters from one of the buildings opened and Yuriy and a platoon of ten volunteers streamed out and almost simultaneously, another platoon led by Greg, from a second building.

One of the raiders attempted to use a side arm and was knocked unconscious with an adze. Eight Uzi machineguns were recovered and a selection of eight side arms, plus a box of explosives from the second jeep.

The six water-stunned, but otherwise uninjured raiders, were bound hand and foot with plastic ties; the injured raider merely had his feet tied.

Despite all the water which had poured into the courtyard in just under four minutes, it disappeared quickly down the shores. The second jeep was pulled out of the shore and the overturned jeep put back on its wheels. The dead man was placed beside the raider with the broken arm.

There was a sudden rattle as overseers activated the lifting of all shutters. The drain covers raised themselves and slid back into the drains. The overturned jeep had not damaged anything.

Dawn was beginning to break. The streaks of pink so unique to the Dahran desert were coming over the horizon. All the overseers jumped simultaneously, as again their wristwatches detected three vehicles approaching at speed and someone shouted, it might be backup for the raiders.

But there was a shout from the top of one of the slave quarters nearest the West Road. One of the lookouts had seen the blue and white of police vehicles approaching. It was the Police Captain with two jeeps of reinforcements, who came armed to the teeth.

For some unexplained reason, the Captain's main concern appeared to be my own safety. The six uninjured raider brigands were handcuffed and shackles put on their ankles. The injured raider was unceremoniously lifted into a transport, which arrived and handcuffed by an ankle to a floor restraint. I was going to say something about his clearly broken shoulder and arm, but was distracted by a call from Stan, who was standing at the door of the third slave quarters building.

Stan signalled to me with a hand sign and also indicated the Police Captain to come over. We went to him and Stan proceeded fast up the stairs. In one of the slaves' rooms on the second floor, each of which would sleep four slaves at night, Jerzy was sitting on the floor between the two the pallets in the room. There was glass all around the room where one of the bursts of gunfire had shattered the glass and we moved through it carefully.

Jerzy was cradling in his arms the body of Marek, who for all intents and purposes looked to be asleep. It was only when we drew close that we could see the blood seeping through Jerzy's fingers, from a small wound Marek's in the chest. A single bullet having broken the window glass had ricocheted off a wall and hit him in the chest.

I put my head out the now gaping window and shouted down for Dr. Fournier to be called, though from the colour and quietness of the body, I did not hold out much hope. The Police Captain had bent down and felt for a pulse, but shook his head at me.

Dr. Fournier arrived in no time, made his diagnosis, breathed deeply and shook his head more to himself than to anyone else. In all of this, Jerzy still cradled the body of his buddy in his lap and arms.

It was only when Stan went over to take his arms from around the dead Marek that Jerzy seemed to wake from his reverie and said something in Polish, which we did not understand. Bending his head, he silently kissed the lips of Marek, his dead buddy, and his face was bathed in tears.

Yuriy had arrived by this stage, followed by Gary and two other slaves, and they took Jerzy in hand, with Yves Fournier telling them to bring him down to the surgery so that he could treat him for shock. Jerzy was led out in a daze, looking back over his shoulder at the body of Marek lying between the pallets.

Marek was the only fatality, or indeed injury, of that fateful morning's activity.

The Police Captain spoke to me, but I could not take matters in. The raiders would be charged at a minimum with assault, attempted robbery, firearms charges, explosives charges and damage to property. He would have to issue a press statement on the capture. Did I mind if he said, the police were quickly on the scene and that the raiders had been held off by myself and my staff until they arrived?

No, I did not mind.

Trying to think ahead of the publicity this attack would invariably generate, I asked the Captain if he would station an officer at the entrance to both the Palaces to stop anyone from coming in without my permission. I did not want journalists, or TV cameras arriving. This he did and he said, he would be back in the evening, which I did not quite understand why.

It was the thought of the Aloe Palace which reminded me that Pete, the head of household there and Randy, would still be in the secure room there. I tapped on my earpiece, but as I half-guessed, the steel panelling would not allow a signal in. I was about to send Aziz, the only person other than myself with the exit code, down to the Palace, when Randy arrived in a jeep with the Bank's own security men from the capital city. They did not bat an eyelid at the various dozens of naked slaves now in the courtyard or of Randy's own nakedness.

Master, we are okay,' Randy shouted as he jumped from the jeep. We could hear everything, but could not use the earpieces to talk to you.'

Seeing my silent features and the pall which was already over the courtyard, he asked `Master, what is the matter? What has happened?'

`Marek is dead.'

The transport van was leaving with the raiders, escorted by leading and following jeeps and I thought it just as well, as I noted the anger in Randy's eyes.

Dr. Fournier's surgery was right beside Stan's office, where Marek usually worked. The two Poles were responsible for the fabric of the Palace and consequently would be known to a lot of the slaves, unlike those who would have only a farm-tending function and it was quite well known to all the many suggestions that both had made during the building of the Lime Palace.

I left instructions with Yuriy for the burial of Marek in our cemetery at the Aloe Palace once I got back from the Bank in the evening. It was only when the Police Captain had left, I realised part of his duty on the death of a slave was to retrieve the GPS bracelet from the slave's ankle, hence his need to return in the evening.

The Bank was abuzz with talk when I walked in and for the second time in my life, staff and customers applauded as I made my way across the foyer. There was a series of phone-calls during the day which hardly registered with me -- offering support and rejoicing in my safety. At midday, Charlie Deckam was on from London to see how I was and when Rio de Janeiro came into our time zone, Colin Bowman was on solicitous for my well being.

The most ominous call however was from the Bank's lawyers in Dahra, who for want of another firm I had used when buying the Aloe Palace and afterwards the adjoining land of the Lime Palace. They were my only lawyers of record, and though dealing in the main in commercial law, had been contacted to ensure my presence in Court the following morning at ten o'clock.

The lawyers were very apologetic and said if I wanted to appoint another firm they would understand.

`Understand what,' I asked?

My representation at the trial of the seven accused who would be before the Court for trial and sentencing was the reply. They, as a firm, only had a very junior associate who dealt in criminal law.

Now they had me totally confused. The raiders had been caught not six hours previously, how could a trial be heard the following day and sentencing on the same day? The reply was simplicity itself.

`Sir Jonathan, this is Dahra. We have very little crime here as you will have seen. Justice is very swift and particularly when the perpetrators are caught in the act. And may I say, even swifter when the Sheik himself is interested in the matter.'

`Why does His Excellency have an interest in this case?'

'Two reasons, Sir Jonathan. One of the families previously raided is related to one of his wives. Secondly, this last attack has now been on the life and property of a non-Dahran, yourself. The fact that even though you were warned, the government was unable to prevent an incident that endangered an honoured guest in our country, under the codes of hospitality is a cause for shame. The radio news reports have not stopped all morning. Just a moment, Sir Jonathan.'

I could hear murmuring in the background at the lawyers' end. After a minute or so, the lawyer was back on line.

`Sir Jonathan, the Courts Service have just been onto be reassured of our presence in the morning and to confirm that the Sheik, himself, will be the Senior Judge in this case as is his right in Dahran law.'

I breathed deeply and said `Yes, have your associate represent me and perhaps, he could come over to the Bank with whatever papers there are in the matter.'

`Papers, Sir Jonathan? There are no papers. This is Dahra.'

That was the second time he had said that. I was out of my depth.

The lawyer must have felt my confusion, because he went onto say: `Sir Jonathan, even with my own limited knowledge of criminal law here, I would suspect that all seven defendants will plead guilty in Court to the attacks having been caught flagrante delicto. The Criminal Court here is not public, only those directly involved, judges, lawyers, witnesses and most particularly, those who have suffered in the crime. If the Court accepts their pleas of guilty, most likely they will be beheaded two days from now in the enclosed yard behind the Court.'

After that there was little I could say.

Marek Czyblonzki's funeral that evening took place an hour before sunset. The Police Captain had arrived earlier with a technician to take off the GPS bracelet. Led by Stan Mercer, his boss and Jerzy Zarchewicz, his friend and lover, the body was carried down the straight road between the Palaces, up beside the grave of Thorval Nordmark, which I had not seen since his burial there a year previously, now covered with small blue and yellow flowering plants.

A hollow grave had been dug and when the body was lowered into it as many slaves as wanted put a stone on top of the body. After some twenty minutes, there was a pile some two feet high. Jerzy who had been crying throughout, now was more composed and was being comforted particularly by Stan, who nodded to him as the last of the slaves depositing stones finished.

Jerzy stepped forward and said a short something in Polish which sounded like a poem as it had a cadence to its words. When he finished, Stan fished out a sheet from his shirt pocket and read in English what had been said:

`Follow the dew, follow the road

because my beloved is coming.

Tell him hello, tell him goodnight

and is he loving me

because I love him so much.

I can see he is coming

and my heart is trembling with anticipation.

No one can do it like him.

I love him to death us do part.'

The slaves went quietly back up the road and I had a word with Stan as to what should be done now and particularly, in helping Jerzy get over his pain.

`He will be fine, Boss. I'll keep him busy.'

We walked back up the road to the Lime Palace in silence. The Palace had paid a high price for my protection and the safety of my slaves and property.

The following day, I had arranged to meet the Bank's lawyers a half an hour before the beginning of the trial. I had suggested earlier. They said, it was not necessary, as they would have nothing to discuss with me. I was the aggrieved party and might be called as a witness and no more than that.

I got to the Courts in fine time. Faisal, my driver, knew where they were and left me right at the door thirty five minutes before the trial. The lawyer -- a Senior Partner in the firm - who had handled my purchase of the Aloe Palace I recognised; his young companion I did not. Both were in plain white Arab dress and I noticed that the headband ogal was in unadorned black.

I was led into a large waiting room with a table and surrounding chairs and invited to take a seat. The Senior Partner nodded to his young companion who did not look a day over twenty, though he must have been.

`Sir Jonathan, I have the honour to represent you in this case, on behalf of my firm. My name is Karim Al-Kibbe. I believe you have met my father.'

Seeing my lack of familiarity with the name, he commented, `My father is general manager of Mr. Al-Hamdi's opal mine.'

`Ah, yes, indeed. I have met your father a number of times. But I thought he was Lebanese.'

`We are, Sir Jonathan. I mean, my father and grandparents are. I am Dahran. To practise criminal law in Dahra, you have to be Dahran.'

That was another new fact.

He pressed on.

`I have spoken with the prosecutor's office, because they may wish to call you as a witness, should the Court so allow, to state the damage done to your person by this attack and to your property.'

`Karim, I am uninjured. Yes, my property is damaged, some windows destroyed by gunfire and some damage to walls also, but what about the murder of Marek Czyblonzki.'

Karim Al-Kibbe looked me in the eye and said, `Sir Jonathan, in Dahran law slaves are property not persons. You cannot murder property. Therefore the charge on that score is one of permanent damage to property.'

Karim Al-Kibbe held my gaze, angry and all that it was, until I looked at his Senior Partner, who nodded and said, `Sir Jonathan, that is the law.'

I looked back at the associate who still had not blinked. I was glad at that moment that he was on my side and that I had misjudged his body age when in fact I should have been counting his mental age which was steeped in the law and history of Dahra.

Please remember, Sir Jonathan, that our type of law is simple, almost a version of the lex talionis' -- seeing my blank stare, he filled me in again -- the law of retaliation or as some say, `an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth'. We have very little paper work in a criminal trial, relying on statements of fact from direct witnesses and from pleas to the Court, usually for mercy. It is not a complicated system interrupted with points of law or points of order or objections, as elsewhere. The Judges have to be seen to be impartial in applying the law equally in its spirit and its letter to all who are in the courtroom, not just to those who are being accused.'

There was a knock on the door and we were being summoned to the Court.

The courtroom was an undecorated, unadorned room in white with a Judges' bench, dominated by the flag of the Sheikdom hanging like a batique on the end wall. Some twenty paces from the bench were some thirty or forty comfortable chairs.

As we came in two officials also arrived and positioned themselves to the front of the Court.

Karim indicated a chair to me -- halfway down the room - and sat down on the outside of me, with the Senior Partner behind.

The Police Captain and three of his men arrived, nodded to me and took up seats slightly ahead and to the left of us. Two other jurists arrived with a number of sheets of paper in their hands and nodded to Karim and the Senior Partner. They were the prosecutors.

Quite literally on the stroke of ten, a side door opened at the top and one of the officials I had previously seen stepped into the courtroom and with an `All rise' announced the arrival of the Judges into the chamber.

Three Judges walked in, all in Arab dress and again each with a plain black ogal as a corded headband. I was subsequently informed that this was the equivalent of the wig worn in some western Courts. They all wore a green sash over their left shoulder to indicate that they were Judges and the last Judge had a four-foot unsheathed scimitar held upright in his right hand. He was the Sheik of Dahra, come to administer justice.

The Judges took their position on the bench and the Sheik placed the scimitar on a wooden rest to the front of the bench. I could have sworn that the temperature dropped a couple degrees.

Those assembled sat down almost in unison.

The procedure was simplicity itself. The first prosecutor came forward before the Judges and stated that three robberies had occurred and he sought justice for the families. The Judges appeared to nod, but said nothing. The second prosecutor came forward and stated that an attempted robbery had occurred, an assault on the property of a foreign citizen, the permanent destruction of the property of this foreign citizen, the possession of unregistered firearms, the possession of explosives, the driving of jeeps at night without lights and the driving of unlicensed and untaxed vehicles. There was silence in the Court.

`Who is accused of these crimes?' the Judge on the left asked.

The Police Captain came forward and taking a sheet of paper from his jacket pocket read out the names of the seven whom he said he had apprehended and taken into custody. He mentioned an eight name as the raider who had died in the attack.

`Where are those whom you have apprehended?' the Judge on the right asked.

The Police Captain nodded to the official who went to a door on the far side of the Court and seven police officers came in with the seven prisoners. All were in brown coveralls and the seventh had his arm in plaster and strapped in a sling. All sank to their knees before the three Judges. They could not but fail to see the naked blade of the scimitar which now seemed even longer than its original four feet.

The first Judge on the left asked, `Have any or all of the accused entered a plea to the Court?'

The prosecutor stood up and said, all had entered a guilty plea to all the charges.

`Where is their lawyer?' I whispered to Karim.

He shook his head and whispered back, `they have pleaded guilty caught in the act. They do not get a lawyer.'

The two Judges were in private conversation with the Sheik. There was a distinct chill in the courtroom.

The Sheik looked down at the seven accused before him. His eyes were black and totally unsmiling. He cleared his throat.

`The sentence of this Court on all seven accused of these crimes of organised robbery on three separate occasions against our citizens and brothers is death by the sword. The sentence of the Court on all seven accused of the crime of assault, of attempted robbery and of the permanent damage of the property of a foreign citizen is death by the sword.'

Addressing the prosecutor, the Sheik then asked `Do any of the accused beg for mercy?'

`Yes, honourable Judges, all beg the mercy of the Court,' the second of the prosecutors said.

`On what grounds?' the first Judge asked, almost annoyed in his tone.

`On the grounds that no citizen was permanently injured in the first crimes and that only the property of a foreign citizen was permanently injured in the last crimes.'

The coldness of the words was on a par with the coldness in the courtroom.

`Do the families involved in the first three crimes ask for mercy?' the first Judge asked.

`No, Your Honour, they do not.'

`Does the foreign citizen involved in the fourth attack ask for mercy for the guilty?, the first Judge asked again, looking at Karim Al-Kibbe.

I felt cold. I felt that my lawyer might have primed me to this eventuality. Karim Al-Kibbe looked at me.

I stood up and addressed the Court, `Yes, Your Honours, I ask for mercy for each of the guilty.'

`Why?'

It was the second Judge who looked clearly annoyed.

`Because, Your Honour, all of them attacked my home and property. But only one of them killed my slave. I believe that they should all pay an equal price of retribution for what all of them have done. They should now live the live of a slave, similar to the life they took for the rest of their lives paying back the damage they had done. That is, if it pleases the Court' and I sat down rather heavily.

The three Judges again spoke privately among themselves. The Judge on the left asked for the list of families who had been robbed which the first prosecutor presented. The Judge on the right asked for the list of the guilty.

The Judge on the left read off the name of the head of a family. The Judge on the right read off a name of one of the guilty.

The Sheik sentenced the man to be a slave for life to the head of the family and added, `pray that the head of family lives a long life, because when he dies, you will die the following day.'

The second guilty man named was the one with the broken arm and the third guilty raiders were equally dispatched.

I heard my name being mentioned and Karim al-Kibbe motioned me to stand up with him. The Judge on the right read off four names and the Sheik sentenced each to be my slave for life and speaking directly to the four added, `pray that your new Master lives a long life, because when he dies, you will die the following day.'

I was numbed by the sentence, by the swiftness of the proceedings, by the simplicity of the law in both its application and its mercy. I was even more surprised when Karim al-Kibbe informed me afterwards there would be no fee for his services -- I had asked him to send on a note. He explained that all criminal lawyers were paid by the Court Service and he added he would see that my four new slaves would be transported to the Lime Palace that afternoon as soon as their papers were completed and GPS were put on.

As we left the Court, the Police Captain was waiting for me.

`I hope, Sir Jonathan, you did not mind me and my men taking the limelight in capturing these criminals. You have no idea the boost it has given morale, to say nothing of the publicity.'

`Not at all, Captain. You did really well. I was delighted to see you arrive. And thank you for the officers posted on the gates of both Palaces. I saw them as I left this morning. In a fortnight's time, when all of this has died down, you and your men must come and see my library. I have some new detective stories, which you must read.'

`The men would really love that, Sir Jonathan, even just to see the inside of the Lime Palace alone, nothing else.'

I smiled at him. And he smiled back.

To be honest, I had not expected the any of the slaves to be transferred to my ownership. I thought that they would have been sent to some public prison or workplace. Now I had four violent slaves who were coming to be housed in the Palace quarters, one of whom most likely on the law of averages, four out of seven, had fired the burst of automatic fire that had killed Marek.

When I got back to the Palace just after midday, I was still not over the morning's trial and had taken the rest of the day off from the Bank. When I had told Gustav Ahlson what had happened, he merely murmured, `I don't like this at all, Jonathan, purely from a perspective of your own safety. Your present slaves are non-violent. These four clearly are.'

I therefore called a meeting of all the overseers and assistant overseers for four o'clock and filled them in. I asked for ideas on what to do.

I was surprised at some of the suggestions which were made which included an immediate flogging of the four once they arrived and their castration so as to reduce their aggressiveness. It was clear that the assistant overseers, who would be closer to the slaves, were still very angry at Marek's death. What was also clear was they wanted to have nothing to do with the four new slaves whom they regarded as different to those at the Palaces.

When I thought we were getting nowhere fast, Aziz cleared his throat. The entire meeting swivelled, to a man, to look at him. He put his two hands together, as if to offer up a prayer and said `Master, you made a recent purchase, I must admit that I was not impressed. They seemed such a waste of resources. Now I think your decision may have been inspired. We are looking for a location for these four slaves who are best kept away from the other slaves, but if I understand what others are saying should on the one hand be different to the other slaves and at the same time be punished for their attack on all of us and for the killing of Marek.'

Everyone was waiting for Aziz's suggestion or suggestions.

`The water wheels, Master, the water wheels!'

Once Aziz had said the words, I knew that we had the punishment. Each of the new slaves would be away from the other, non-violent, slaves in the Palace, but each would be away from their former partners in crime; each would be forced to work so as to eat; each would be punished each day by a long day's work compared to the other slaves who worked short hours. There was any number of possibilities.

What the meeting finally resolved was that

one slave would go to the second wheel in the Aloe Palace;

the other three to three of the wheels in the Lime Palace;

as all four slaves would be inside the water wheels they would be totally depilated totally of all hair permanently to further indicate their status;

no slave would ever speak to them and finally,

each of them would be punished each month on the date of the death of Marek Czyblonzki

When asked what that punishment should be, I was quite surprised at the almost universal wish of the overseers and assistant overseers that they be flogged. The number of times it had happened at the Palaces was rare and here were the overseers and assistant overseers asking that it be applied on a regular monthly basis to these four slaves, either as a number of strokes of a camel cane on their backs or the soles of their feet.

When it was pointed out that giving them a bastinado might affect their ability to work the water wheel, it was agreed on a flogging on their backs. I asked each overseer first, as I thought they would be more moderate in their idea of punishment to suggest how many strokes should be given with a camel cane.

Ben, my secretary, was sitting on the ground beside my seat and I told him to take note of the strokes suggested. I noted that the assistant overseers were consistently higher than the overseers in the number of strokes suggested.

When the last number had been suggested, I asked Ben to give me the average. It was thirty two strokes.

'The four slaves are due to arrive later this evening,' I said to Aziz. Do we have sufficient of that unbreakable steel at present in the Aloe Palace?'

Aziz replied in the affirmative, much as if a negative could not even be remotely considered.

`Greg, it will be up to you and Jess, to ensure that punishment is administered each month at the water wheel itself, but this evening I want it administered in the courtyard, after dinner before all the slaves, so that all can see my anger at the death of Marek.'

Greg and Jess nodded their understanding of my orders.

When the four slaves arrived less than an hour later -- all Arabs from a lesser tribe in the north as it turned out - their temporary handlers were awaiting them and took them in, without their leg shackles being removed, first to be shorn of longer body hair and then to have to depilatory cream applied three times in under an hour and a half. They finished up totally devoid of hair on any part of their body. Parts of their bodies looked quite pale, particularly their heads, without any hair whatsoever.

During the entire process, not one word was spoken to them, despite them trying to engage the Palace slaves in some form of conversation. They soon gave up trying and were then given a single quick enema. According to all the handlers, the four were anal virgins, which gave me food for thought as to future punishments.

The four slaves were then brought out into the courtyard in their shackles and made to kneel on the paved stone, their unmanacled hands behind their heads. An eerie silence had descended over the courtyard, where almost six hundred slaves were now seated, each feeding his buddies.

I waited some fifteen minutes until all were finished eating. Even though the slaves take only a bowl of soup of the vegetables in season and two biscuits as their evening meal, it is a social occasion to be seen with your buddy, feeding your buddy and showing your affection for your buddy before those around you. And like all good social occasions, our dinnertime is an unhurried time.

When all were finished, I rose to speak and, in Arabic, told the assembly of slaves that the four slaves before them were four of the seven who attacked the Palace and who had killed Marek. I deliberately spoke in Arabic so that they would also know their fate.

I told the Palace slaves of the sentence of the Court and they would live as slaves as long as I lived and the day after my death, they would die.

`To-day I asked the overseers and assistant overseers what punishment should be theirs for their crimes. It has been decided their punishment will be fivefold. They will be chained to a water wheel for the rest of their lives; they must produce a quota of water each day to water the gardens or they will not eat the next day; their bodies have had all their hair permanently removed to show that they are criminals; no slave will ever speak to them; each month on the date of Marek's death each of them will receive from one of the Palace retrainers a flogging of thirty two camel cane strokes on their backs. Their first flogging will be administered now.'

There was deadly silence in the courtyard and it was broken only by the sobbing of one of the four slaves.

Greg and Jess wheeled out a frame from the retraining room and tied the first slave's wrists to two of its corners and then raised it so that the slave toes were barely touching the ground.

`Jerzy, do you wish to administer the first flogging as Marek was your buddy?'

Jerzy's body just trembled and he shook his head, burst into tears and threw his arms around Stan who had been minding him all evening.

I nodded to Greg, who stood back and administered the first eight strokes from the neck down to the top of the shoulder blades. The strokes were as hard as his arm could deliver and the power behind each stroke was awesome. On the seventh stroke, there was blood to be seen on the slave's back.

Jess then stepped forward and delivered the next eight with equal force further down the back, but no skin was broken. At this point the slave was screaming, but Jess continued regardless of the screams. Greg took over for his second eight and Jess finished off with the last eight across the hairless buttocks of the slave and twice drew blood.

The slave had a bucket of water thrown over his back and he screamed again. He was taken down and made to kneel as before. Though he swayed back and forth for the remainder of his period kneeling in the courtyard, he did not keel over.

The second, third and fourth slaves were similarly dealt with and then, the four were taken to their respective water wheels, for the first night of the rest of their lives.

A concrete anchor, really a leftover pylon from the construction of the Lime Palace, had been put into the ground, beside each water wheel and a steel chain linked through one of its loops, whose other end was attached to a manacle on the slave's leg and soldered on in situ.

Each slave was shown the gauge measuring the water quota to be delivered each day. Each had understood about not being given food if they did not reach the quota. The toilet patch away from the wheel was indicated where each one could only defecate or piss and the hut to sleep in at night on a wooden bench with a single blanket against the ground-level cold.

It took ten slaves to carry down the pylon to the Aloe Palace's second water wheel, but Yuriy told me afterwards that they actually laughed as they good humouredly carried that particular pylon weighting almost half a ton all the way down the straight road from the Lime Palace.

The following morning, the first of a future common sight, four water wheels were revolving and pumping water into the Aloe and Lime Palace' water gardens, fountains and culverts.

The only change in this schedule that occurred in the following months was a `keep-fit' programme suggested by Rolf, who pointed out the slaves would develop leg muscles, but that their other body muscles in the upper body would atrophy quickly over a short number of years. The four slaves were put on a half hour of sit-ups and press-ups each mid-morning and each mid-afternoon, by one of Rolf's assistants. They were also the only slaves in the Palace who were not given immediately the standard initial eye-treatment, dental treatment or tattoo removal -- two having tattoos. However, on this score, I relented after a month and had them attended to by the medical staff.

Overall, these four slaves were a common reminder of the punishment attached to the savagery of their actions and the death of Marek - a slave who had never done any other slave harm and whose work at the Palaces had been nothing more than service to me, his Master, either waiting at table when I entertained more than the usual number of guests, or in looking after the fabric of the Palaces with Stan and Jerzy.

End of Chapter 21