Shorab investigates the vizier's secret room

Shorab pondered over his uncle’s words. The vizier Zain kept a room in the palace that no servant was allowed to enter. If there was truth to be found, it would be hidden there.

He told no guards, summoned no servants. As sultan, he had the right to enter any chamber. So he went alone.

Inside, Shorab discovered two **** girls, brown-skinned and beautiful. Like most of the harem, they were scantily clad, their youth and charms made for lust.

The chamber itself was draped in luxury. Silk cushions and sheets covered the floor, with lanterns casting seductive glows, and a tray was laden with wine, apples, grapes, oranges, and pomegranates.

It was clearly a room meant for pleasure. The fat and greedy vizier Zain had made it into a private den for his lusts, attended by these two lovely creatures.

"You are the vizier Zain’s pleasure slaves, are you not?" Shorab asked.

They bowed low before him. "Yes, my sultan. We were purchased to satisfy Master Zain’s lust."

Shorab felt a wave of disgust. To imagine the fat, sweaty vizier having sex with such beauty was like seeing a pig paw at a princess. He studied them more closely.

"What are your names?" he asked.

The one on the left lifted her chin. "I am Firaza." Her skin glowed bronze under the lamplight. Long black hair was braided down her back, reaching her waist. She was fully naked apart from golden jewelry and a **** collar of gold around her throat. Her eyes blazed with fire.

The one on the right spoke more cheefully. "And I am Ramia." Her skin was warm brown, her curly hair tumbling down in waves. She wore a sheer harem dress of transparent white silk and a similar golden **** collar around her neck.

Shorab frowned. So this was the vizier’s great secret, a perfumed den for sex and idleness. A place where Firaza and Ramia lay with him on silks, feeding him grapes and pomegranates while he grunted in sweat and pumped his lust inside them. Was this truly all? Or was there something more?

"Firaza, Ramia," Shorab said slowly. "What were you doing on the night my father Sultan Abuz died?"

The two girls exchanged a troubled glance. Their hesitation stirred Shorab’s suspicion.

"Tell me the truth," he urged. "I promise you will not be punished for whatever Zain **** upon you."

At last, they nodded, and their tale began.

"That evening, Master Zain brought us here," Ramia said. Her voice trembled. "He fucked us both, and then ordered us to have sex with each other. We kissed and rubbed ourselves together while he watched and chanted strange prayers."

Firaza took over. "It was no ordinary sex game. It was a ritual." She pointed at a stack of papers covered in strange symbols. "He was summoning an ifrit."

Shorab’s heart quickened. An ifrit, a vengeful spirit, could pass through walls and slay a man in a locked room. He unrolled the papers, and indeed they described a summoning ritual. But why would a spirit of vengeance obey Zain?

"Did he succeed in summoning the ifrit that night?" Shorab asked.

Firaza’s lips parted. "He did. And then he commanded us to pleasure it with our bodies."

Ramia’s face burned with shame. "The ifrit fucked Firaza all night while I danced for it. It filled her cunt with so much seed that she leaked for hours, as if a hundred years of lust had poured out of it."

Shorab drew a sharp breath. It made sense now.

Zain had summoned the ifrit with their bodies as offerings. The spirit, glutted with lust, had murdered Sultan Abuz in exchange for its sexual satisfaction.

But why? Why would Zain betray the hand that had fed him? The vizier had prospered under Abuz. What motive could drive him to this?

Shorab ordered the greedy vizier’s arrest. Confronted with the evidence, the notes in his own hand, Zain was dragged before him. "You summoned an ifrit and commanded it to **** my father, Sultan Abuz," Shorab thundered. "Why?"

Zain broke instantly, his jowls shaking with terror. "It was Lord Anis! He paid me to do it! I have proof! Coins with his mark. He promised me greater rewards, but I have received nothing!"

Shorab’s blood turned cold. His uncle may not have had the skill or courage to **** his brother, but he had the cunning to hire another to do it. He had pushed Zain to do the deed, then whispered poison into Shorab’s ear, hoping the vizier would die as the scapegoat.

So Shorab ordered Anis arrested. The marked coins were placed before him.

"Zain has confessed," Shorab said, glaring at his uncle. "You paid him to **** your brother, my father. Why? Sons come before brothers. You would never be sultan. Unless you meant to kill me as well."

"I had no such plans!" Anis cried, his face wet with sweat. "I only wanted Abuz dead because Yasmina promised she would marry me if he were gone!"

At that moment, the final piece of the puzzle fell into place.

Yasmina had been bored of her aged husband. She had promised the jealous younger brother that she would marry him if Abuz were gone. Yet she had planned to betray Anis as well. She did not want another old man. Her eyes had always lingered on her young stepson. That was why she had urged Shorab to kill Anis without a trial. If he had obeyed, Yasmina would already have been in his bed, taking the pleasures of youth she craved.

As for Anis, he lacked the means to kill his brother. He had neither courage nor cunning nor skill. So he hired the greedy vizier Zain, who dabbled in black magic and had the power to kill a man behind locked doors. Anis promised him rewards he never intended to deliver. His plan was to betray Zain, to convince Shorab that the vizier had murdered Abuz, and have him executed without trial. In that way, Anis would silence his accomplice and perhaps even claim Yasmina, who had sworn to marry him if Abuz died. If Shorab executed Zain instead of Anis, she would have had **** but to keep her word, lest Anis reveal her part in the conspiracy.

"All three are guilty of my father’s ****," Shorab declared at last, his voice iron. He ordered the arrest of his stepmother Yasmina as well.

Now it was time for judgment.