John Penny's young daughter

Mid 1700s

John Penny was from a successful family of merchants based in Liverpool, Northern England. His father had made his fortune in transporting slaves to the American colonies, but since John had inherited the business had diversified into cotton, tea and coffee as well as rare spices.

People knew John as a philanthropist for looking after the wellbeing of his workers and his generous donations to the local schools and arts. He believed in a healthy mind and body so despite being fifty he was still in good health with only hints of gray in his neat brown beard.

Most mornings John could be found using his telescope from the balcony of the westerly wing of his large country estate that sat on the river's estuary. He would watch the company's Indiaman ships on the River Mersey, making sure his ships were on time.

John was obsessed with time.

Time and... books

When John wasn't in the boardroom he could be found in his magnificent private library… and if he wasn't there? Well, of course he might be chairing the latest meeting in the city's masonic hall, or drinking at one of the many taverns, which he did disguised so he could gauge the feeling amongst his sailors and warehouse workers.

But John would most likely be in a bookstore. He loved nothing more than reading rare texts, seeking books for his own collection. Reading was an escape from the intense pressures that came from being one of Britain's most prominent merchants. His family built Liverpool into the 2nd city of the British Empire (after London), and now he was its king of his city.

Reading was a love and a passion he shared with his young daughter Alissa. She was also a self-professed bookworm. Quickly becoming a female scholar who loved travelling with her father to far flung places. A beauty yes,but one who stayed away from men as much as possible. She hated the idea of marriage. She loved and blossomed in the freedom that childhood provided her, so she didn't want to grow up.

But time stops for no one. Her swelling breasts were evidence of this. Her embarrassing womanly bleeds another traumatic signal of adulthood.

Alissa now stood at five and half foot. Her long blond hair curled in locks and hung past her slender shoulders. She was a beaut. But a fiercely independent one.

Men fell for Alissa, loved for her and even fought for her hand. But she turned every proposal down.

John respected the fact Alissa wanted to delay marriage until her twenties. Largely because he loved spending time with her, and she reminded him much of his late wife who died giving birth to Alissa. But his patience wouldn't last forever. Having an unwed daughter is not good for his image and, believe it or not, causes unrest amongst the boardroom. They hate uncertainty.

So John decided to make a decision. He was going to have to leave England for a year on the premise of finding new trade. Of course, Alissa would join him. But Instead of a trade mission it was in fact an adventure with his daughter. One last hurrah before he would break the news that she would have to find a husband with much haste.

They would sail the three seas, the Irish, the Mediterranean, the Black, and also the Indian Ocean. They would visit Europe, the Levant, India then come back via the Magreb and Egypt. It was on the premise of trade, and yes, trade talks would be held, but just as much time would be spent with Alissa visiting the great port cities to explore and immerse themselves in the local culture.

It was to be a trip which would change their lives forever.

They sailed on the company's fastest twin masted cutter, The Adventurer. It was a luxury yacht rather than a trade ship.

In Boudreaux, they drunk fine wine with cheese, Then in Lisbon they drank Sangria and ate exotic seafood. When they reached Athens they watched the sun set from the Acropolis. Lasting memories were made, but none would have as a lasting effect as what was to come.

The Adventurer sailed up the mighty Bosphorus. A river alive with trade as ships of all sizes competed for space under a golden sun.

And then they saw it.

The walled city of Constantinople.

The beating heart of Ottoman Empire. The ancient city which spanned two continents and brought two cultures together. Once capital of the Eastern Roman Empire, some believed it to have even surpassed Rome in size, beauty and architectural achievement. A city that reigned supreme for a thousand years as the centre of Byzantinum.

Two centuries ago Byzantine's rival, the Ottoman Empire finally broke Contstaniople's mighty walls. But only after the empire was worn down by a century of endless miss rule, cruel defeats in the field, tragic misfortune and deadly betrayal. All took their toll and led to downfall of the once capital of eastern Christendon. Still, both Alissa and John looked in amazement.

But it wasn't the end of Constantinople. In fact the Ottomans invested heavily in the city, breathing new life into the grand old lady. It was once again at the forefront of science, learning and culture.

While the ship took on new samples of Arabic coffee and eastern spices, John and Alissa left to wander the streets for the latest addition to his book collection.

John and Alissa were guided by his trusted friend Samir who was a local merchant. A bald fat man with a thick beard who enjoyed life to the full. Despite a jolly nature he was ruthless in business and it was well known that he was someone you would not want to cross.

John greeted him with a firm handshake but his heart sank a little. "No Jeilla?"

"Not today. My daughter studies on Wednesdays."

"Later?"

Samir shrugged."We'll see. Maybe at dinner."

Alissa was too busy taking in the sights, smells and noise of the bustling port to notice her father's disappointment in not seeing the young Jeilla."

Like John. Samir too had a most beautiful daughter, Jeilla. A girl who could easily capture the heart of any man. As such, Samir was very protective, and she only came out of his family home to pray or when escorted by himself or her mother.

Although one might feel this is draconian, John could understand, as a year earlier he had wanked himself tirelessly after spending a only half an hour in Jeilla's company, mainly because she is very aware of her beauty and uses it to get what she wants. She also had the habit of wearing figure hugging robes made of thin silk that - when conditions were right, allowed her nipples to be seen. Her dainty figure and delicate nature are backed up with a strong personality and keen intellect cut with a vicious humour. Though a dark complexion Jeilla bore more than resemblance to the fair Alissa. They were of a equal beauty.

John was so taken by Jeilla, that one drunken night he almost asked Samir for Jeilla's hand, but held back as the girl was even younger than Alissa… and would most likely ruin his relationship with his daughter.

But he still thought about her. More than he should.

Although he tried to deny it to himself, he knew the stay in Constantinople was also made in hope of spending more time with Jeilla.

As well as finding John the best cookhouses, shisha bars, and brothels. Samir also knew the best bookshops. But as Alissa was in tow, whorehouses were obviously not on today's agenda. So bookshops it was.

In the shadow of the huge Hagia Sofia and the magnificent Blue Mosque, Samir walked John and Alissa through the winding narrow streets into the medieval Grand Bazaar. Amongst the hustle and bustle he found what he was looking for. Samir shouted. "John. Here."

John, his brow damp with sweat from the overbearing heat, suddenly forgot about the uncomfortable conditions.

Laid out on a bench we're a hundred books or more. All old, a lot of them no doubt rare. He wanted them all. But space was limited. He could only buy what he and Alissa could carry.

John's eyes were drawn to a particularly odd book.

It was bigger than the rest and looked heavy. It was leather bound hardback with a buckled strap.

The cover was encrusted with coloured glass made to look like gemstones, and brass symbols. Yet the devil's pentagram should have been a warning but only proved to further draw him in. It looked ancient.

Both Alissa and John leaned over the bench to inspect it in further detail. John then went to pick up the book. "Can I?"

The old seller nodded.

John unfastened the buckle belt. As he opened the cover a could have sworn he felt a cold breath of wind brush his face.

It unsettled him, and he muttered to no one in particular. "What is this thing?"

John had expected an Arabic, Turkish, or even Latin text. But it was written in English, not even in olde English but modern. The few pages that he skimmed through described recipes for old herbal drinks, medicine and obscure remedies. He felt disappointed.

There was not a publisher's mark, no printer's nor even the name of it's author. The leaves were not paper but medieval parchment made from treated animal skin. "What is this? It's confusing me. Probably a clever fake of a medieval text."

Samir and the seller conversed back and forth, then Samir relayed to John, "He doesn't know. An Arabic sailor gave it to him for free."

"Because it was stolen goods, likely."

Samir and the seller conversed more. This time the seller became a little agitated. Samir translated for John once more. "No. He thinks not. He says he can tell a thief from a mile away. Even a professional thief. No, this was an honest man. A good Muslim. But he did tell me the book can be troublesome in the wrong hands."

"Maybe I'll leave it then."

"But he says the book finds you, rather than you find it. It's now yours."

"No." John closed the book."Doesn't feel like mine."

"Give it here. Maybe it's for me." Alissa took the book off her father. It was almost a snatch. Her small slender arms almost buckled under the weight of the book. Yet the book immediately felt an extension of her body.

Alissa then began to read the text and felt the words circulating in her veins. It scared her. But she knew she wanted it. She also knew she had to have it. "I'll take it."

Both John and Samir looked at Alissa with disbelief. Alissa challenged them. "What? I collect oddities."

The seller smiled. "It's yours for free."

~

Samir hosted the father and daughter at his spacious townhouse which stood near the impressive Galata Tower built by the Genoese merchant guild during late antiquity. The house was built with wide open rooms with large bay windows letting in plenty of light.

While Samir and John discussed business in the smoking room. Alissa and Jeilla played chess in the library. But it was more of a battle of the minds rather than a friendly game. They both couldn’t think of anything worse than losing. From the first moment they set eyes upon each other they were both filled with jealous hatred. Their beauty was such that they couldn’t be friends. For until today both Alissa and Jeilla believed that god had solely bestowed such beauty on them.

Jeilla had lulled Alissa into a trap on the chess board, She smiled as she moved her ivory queen. “I do believe, Ms Alissa. That is cheque-mate.”

“Not so fast.”

“It most definitely is.”

Alissa’s eyes told her that Jellia was indeed right. However, her brain simply couldn’t compute that she had lost to her new rival. She never lost chess to anyone other than her father or, on the odd occasion one of the directors. “It’s a stupid game anyway.”

“How could it be studpid? It’s the game of kings, sultans and emperors.”

Alissa wanted to knock the board over like a petulant child but just about refrained from doing so. “I lost on purpose. I didn't want to be rude to the host..”

“Sore loser.”

“I’m not a loser.”

Jeilla flashed her perfect pearly teeth in a wide grin. “I won, you lost.” She shrugged her impossibly delicate shoulders. “ That makes me a winner… and you a loser.”

“I’m going to retire to the bedroom.”

“Don’t cry yourself to sleep.”

Aissa barked. “I’m going to read.”

“I was reading that strange book of yours while you washed.”

Alissa froze. “What?” She turned and stared at Jeilla who was putting the chess pieces back in their starting place. “You cheeky mare. That’s my property.”

“It’s very strange.”

“I like oddities.”

“I took the liberty of asking the cook to gather the ingredients from the kitchen. Want to try one of the spells? I’m not sure what we’ll do with it. But it will pass time until we can be rid of one another. Might make you good at chess.”

“I do see your logic on passing the evening.”

“Come. Let’s go.”

The two young girls stepped into the bedroom which was ordained in a placacial manner with floor to ceiling white silk curtains and rich colorful tapestries. The book lay open on the heavy oak dressing table. Alissa read the page “Conquest? Is that how you beat me at chess?”

“Of course not. I have only read it. My brains are enough to beat an English woman at chess.”

“You are so detestable, do you know that?”

Jeilla listed a large silvery lid to reveal six small bowls filled with exotic herbs and spices and a couple of liquids that looked a lot like blood. “I had the slavic serving boy light the fire because apparently we need to mix the ingredients then throw them into the fire.”

“Then what?”

“Apparently we find, how do you say in English, find our... Prince Charming.”

“Erm… do you want to find a man so soon? You’re too young for love, surely?”

“I know what I want.”

The pair then began to take each cup and pour the contents into the mixing bowl in the correct order as detailed on the page. Alissa moaned, “I am not so sure this is a good idea now.”

“It’s your book. You brought it into my house. Only right you do this with me. We’re in it together.”

“I know. It just felt right at the time. The book feels powerful.”

The pair then took the mixing bowl together, and carried it to the fireplace, then slowly poured the blood like mixture onto the flames. A loud serpent like hiss came from the flames as the intoxicating steam shot from crackling flames.

The pair stumbled back as the bowl dropped to the floorboards, making a racket. Alissa, rubbing her watering eyes exclaimed. “That’s a putrid smell.”

“Smells like a dead street dog.”Jeilla then watched horrified as, from the flames, sprouted a muscular arm pf burnt flesh. “Oh, my, God.”

“What is that?”

A head with a burning mane of purple flames appeared from the fire. Bit by mit the hellish demon crawled from the fire.

The girls ran for the door which slammed shut and locked.

The girls were trapped. They turned and saw the demon in all his demonic magnificence. He stood at 10ft and was muscle bound in the human form. But two long tentacles erupted from his spin and his spine and waved in the air. In a loud bass filled voice, the demon annouced, “I am the Dark Prince and I’m here to make you two virgins my whores. You will do my bidding then I will do yours.”

1) Call for help?

2) Throw the book onto the fire

3) Try and negotiate with the Dark Prince

~

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