A page in the life of the book of
Sinbad
By Shelly
It all started innocently enough. Sinbad woke up, got dressed, combed his fingers through his thick hair and reached for his headband. Only it wasn't where he usually left it. He spent the next ten minutes searching for it, then gave it up and headed topside. No big deal, he'd find it later. Only when he reached the deck it was to discover that the sky was turning black and a wind had picked up, blowing his long locks into his eyes. Sinbad huffed as he tried to tuck the unruly strands behind his ears. Then he made his way over to the tiller.
Doubar greeted him with a frown on his face. "Gonna be one heck of a storm, little brother."
"I can see that," Sinbad replied as he stared up at the ever darkening sky. He had to use on hand to keep the hair from covering his eyes.
"Where's your headband?" Doubar asked.
Sinbad shook his head. "I couldn't find it. I must have put it some place else without realizing it. How much longer till we reach Pontouf?"
Doubar shrugged. "The storm will no doubt slow us down a bit, but I think we should reach there before dusk," he replied.
"Good." Sinbad gave up on his hair. Scowling, he said, "I'm going to go check the lines. He didn't want to take any chances of the sails coming loose in the storm.
It was less than fifteen minutes later when the storm struck them, full force. The winds and the waves battered the Nomad and her crew. But she was a strong ship and she weathered it well, as did those aboard her. Except Sinbad. He was heading for the tiller when a wave tilted the Nomad and sent him, hard, into the railing. He went over the side in a flash.
"Sinbad!" Doubar shouted. He handed over the tiller to a crewman and ran for the side of the ship. Rongar was already throwing a line into the water. A moment later they hauled Sinbad aboard, just as the winds were dying down, the waves were subsiding and the sun began to peek between the clouds.
Firouz gave Sinbad a quick once-over. "Are you all right?" he asked his friend.
Sinbad nodded. "I'm fine, Firouz," he said with a lopsided grin. "Just a bit waterlogged.
"Go below and change, little brother," Doubar advised him.
"Aye. Let me know when we're close to Pontouf," Sinbad requested. "I'm gonna look over some charts."
Doubar saluted. "Aye, aye, Captain." Then he turned back to take over the tiller.
Sinbad headed down below.
It was several hours later when there was a knock on Sinbad's door. He realized, with a start, that he had dozed off. Slipping off the bed, Sinbad reached for his shirt and was pulling it on even as he moved across the room to open the door.
Maeve smiled at Sinbad as she studied him from head to toe. He was wearing a different outfit than she had ever seen before. Black breeches instead of blue and his cream colored shirt was sleeveless. "Nice outfit, Sinbad," Maeve told him. And she meant it.
Sinbad was oblivious to the compliment. He reached for his red sash and wrapped it around his waist as he asked, "Is anything wrong?" For Maeve seldom, if ever, came to his cabin.
"Nothing's wrong," Maeve assured him, as she handed him his belt and sheath. She noticed that they were new as well and said as much.
"Firouz made them for me," Sinbad replied. Then he looked around the cabin. "Maeve, do you see my headband anywhere?"
She looked around then shook her head. "No."
Sinbad heaved a sigh as he combed his fingers through his hair. "Great. What could I have done with the stupid thing?"
"By the way," Maeve said, drawing his attention. "Doubar sent me to tell you that we're almost to Pontouf."
"This should be interesting," Sinbad drawled, as he tossed the pillows on his bed. No headband.
Maeve leaned one shoulder against the door frame. "Have you ever met the Pasha Bijou?" she asked.
Sinbad shook his head. He searched his bookshelves. No headband there either. "I know him only by reputation. He's...eccentric."
"You never really explained why the Caliph wants the Pasha escorted back to Baghdad," Maeve prompted.
"From what I understand, the Caliph and the Pasha were friends as children, but had a falling out," Sinbad said. He was now looking under the bed. Nothing. "Anyway, now that the Caliph is turning fifty, he's feeling...sentimental. Or something. I don't know. He just asked if I would bring the Pasha back to Baghdad in exchange for a bag of gold and a shipload of supplies."
Maeve nodded. "Sounds like a good deal to me." She turned for the door. "You coming up?" she asked. A frown furrowed her brow as she watched Sinbad crawl under the small table in the corner.
Sinbad banged his head and muttered an oath, then he called out, "I'll be there in a minute."
"Right." Shaking her head, Maeve left the room.
"Where could I have put the darn thing?" Sinbad muttered to himself as he rose to his feet. He combed the hair out of his eyes again, then sighed. "Never mind," Sinbad told himself. Then he headed topside.
They took two longboats to the shore of Pontouf. Pasha Bijou was waiting for them with the...small...entourage that he intended to take to Baghdad with him. This included himself, his three...extremely large...daughters. Ten guards and one cook. There were also about a dozen large crates and five trunks.
Sinbad hid a grimace when he saw his cargo. He put a smile on his lips as he greeted the Pasha, and his daughters...the Princesses' Habiba, Lateefah and Salama. The latter made goo-goo eyes at Doubar, while the former two giggle and batted their eyelashes at Sinbad.
Maeve watched all of this with a smile on her face.
"We'll have to make several trips with the longboats," Sinbad decided. He sent the crates and trunks off first, Then the guards and the, the cook and the princesses'. While waiting for the last boat to return, Sinbad and his crew...along with the Pasha...were suddenly attacked. Sinbad reached for his saber, only to discover that it was stuck in the sheath. Muttering curses Sinbad shouted, "Firouz!"
The inventor ran over and tried to help, but no luck. "Sorry Sinbad," he apologized, before turning away to battle with an attacker.
Another one snuck up on Sinbad and nailed him with a right cross. Sinbad was furious. He slugged back, disarmed the man and used his sword to fight off another one. It was soon after that the rest of the attackers ran off. Sinbad went over to the Pasha. "Any idea what that was about?" he queried.
The Pasha Bijou shrugged his thin shoulders. "Thieves, I dare say," he drawled. His eyes were shining, however, as he reached out to shake Sinbad's hand. "Wonderful display of swordsmanship, Captain," he complimented. "Simply wonderful. Do you know that my daughters all love swordplay? Watching it, I mean. It impresses them greatly."
"Uh....that's nice," Sinbad replied, not understanding what the Pasha was leading up to.
Maeve did, and she interjected in an attempt to be helpful. "Your lordship, I would guess that all your daughters are of marriagible age. Am I right?"
"Quite right," the Pasha replied, beaming at her. Then he smiled at Sinbad. "And so lovely they are, don't you agree?"
"Oh...yes," Sinbad said, although he could think of more appropriate adjectives to use. He felt a tap at his shoulder and turned. Rongar was pointing to the water. The other longboat was returning for them. "Everyone on board," Sinbad shouted. He nearly sighed with relief. "Pasha..." he said, guiding Bijou towards the boat.
Maeve fell into step beside Sinbad and smiled as she watched him tuck strands of his hair behind his ears. Because she always saw him with the headband on, she hadn't realized how long the bronze-gold tresses had become. They shimmered in the sun like strands of silk, and she had to resist the urge to comb her fingers through them. Maeve cleared her throat as she dissolved such thoughts and said, "You know, Sinbad, I think that Habiba and Lateefah were giving you the eye earlier.
Sinbad glared at her and said, "Get in the boat, Maeve." Just the mere thought that what she was saying was true, gave him the willies. He helped Doubar and Rongar shove off then jumped in himself. As they headed back to the Nomad, Sinbad couldn't shake the feeling that the four day journey back to Baghdad was going to be an adventure. And not one of his better ones.
That evening, the Pasha surprised everyone with a feast. His cook prepared enough food to feed the occupants of the Nomad for a month. But Sinbad soon discovered that Bijou's daughters could give Doubar a run for his money in the eating department. He was so amazed by their capacity towards consumption, that he left his own plate untouched.
Habiba and Lateefah both noticed that Sinbad wasn't enjoying the sumptous feast so they took it upon themselves to try and feed him. Sinbad spent several minutes convincing them that he had no appetite, and finally made good his escape by going topside. There was a gentle breeze and a clear, night sky full of stars. Sinbad inhaled deeply then expelled a sigh of relief. Smiling, he strolled towards the bow, for he could hear loud voices. One of them was Firouz's.
The scientist was working on one of his new inventions and two of the Pasha's guards were lurking over his shoulder, making it difficult for him to work. He was also beginning to lose his patience since they kept man-handling the delicate structure. Firouz finally lost his temper and yelled at them to go away.
Neither man took it well and drew their sabers. They were ready to pounce on Firouz when Sinbad ran between them and his friend. "Now...fellows," Sinbad began, a smile on his face. "Let's just cool off, all right? No need to spill any blood over a simple misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding?" Firouz shouted. He was too angry to keep his mouth shut. Two weeks of worth had just been damaged by the groping hands of one of the guards.
Sinbad glared at Firouz over his shoulder. "Be quiet!" he hissed. But it was too late. The damage had been done. The Pasha's men did not take well to what they considered an insult, so they attacked. "Great..." Sinbad muttered, as he deflected a blade that was aimed at his throat. He was involved with fighting off both men, so he didn't notice what Firouz was doing. In other words, he didn't see the inventor swing a piece of wood in his direction, so he stepped right into it's path.. It connected with the back of his head and Sinbad dropped like a stone.
Firouz was horrified. "Oh NO!" he shouted. He tossed aside the piece of wood and dropped to his knees. "Sinbad....oh my." Firouz's probing fingers found the knot at the base of Sinbad's skull. "I'm so sorry," Firouz apologized, even though he knew that Sinbad couldn't hear him.
The guards simply stared at him. Maeve and Doubar came running, for Dermott had used mindspeak to tell the sorceress what had happened. Doubar scooped Sinbad up into his arms and carried him below. And so ended the first day of the voyage back to Baghdad.
As Sinbad returned to consciousness, it was to discover two things. That his head hurt abomidably, and the Habiba and Lateefah were hovering over him. The sight of them made Sinbad groan and wish for dark oblivion once more.
Maeve entered the room in time to see Sinbad stir and she shooed the sisters out. She closed the door behind them and made certain that it was locked, then she moved over to the bed. "How do you feel, Sinbad?" she asked, with concern shining from her dark eyes.
"I've been better," he replied, swallowing back a groan as he pushed himself upright. Sinbad found the knot on the back of his head then asked, "What happened?"
"Firouz feels terrible," Maeve said, after she had explained everything. Including the fact that Sinbad had been unconscious for nearly sixteen hours.
Sinbad shook his head and instantly regretted it. "It was just an accident," he said firmly. "Where is Firouz? I'll let him know I'm not angry with him." As he spoke, Sinbad slid out of bed. He was grateful for Maeve's hand on his arm to steady him as a wave of dizziness washed over him.
Maeve reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind Sinbad's ear. It was an intimate gesture, but it felt right. "He's topside." She grinned. "Trying to fix his invention."
"That's our Firouz," Sinbad countered with a grin. He gestured for Maeve to precede him out the door. "Anything else happen that I should know about, while I was....uh.....sleeping?" Sinbad asked as they climbed the stairs.
"Nothing of interest," Maeve replied. "It's been smooth sailing."
Sinbad was glad to hear it. Now if he could only find his headband, he'd be happy. He followed Maeve onto the deck, only to find Habiba and Lateefah waiting for him.
Habiba was older than Lateefah and felt that she had first choice with Sinbad. But Lateefah was bigger, so she felt that gave her the edge. Each grabbed hold of one of Sinbad's arms and tried to claim his attention.
"Enough!" Sinbad shouted, even as he tried to plant his feet and free himself from their grasp. But that was easier said than done, since both woman outweighed him. Still, Sinbad gave it his best shot. But even as he managed to wriggle his arms free, the sister's grabbed handfuls of his shirt. A moment later the material gave way and Sinbad found himself bared from the waist up.
Maeve was watching from nearby and she couldn't help but catch her breath at the sight of Sinbad's leanly muscled chest and arms. He was like a bronzed-skinned, exquisitely sculpted statue.
The princesses stared at Sinbad in wide-eyed wonder themselves. Then they giggled as they each realized they had a piece of his shirt in their hands.
Sinbad felt himself flush red beneath the heat of their gaze, and the blush deepened when he turned to see the look on Maeve's face as she stared at him. Turning back to the sisters, Sinbad pinned them with a glare then turned and stomped off down below to find another shirt.
The moment Sinbad was gone, Maeve strolled over to Habiba and Lateefah and casually formed a fireball. She idly tossed it from hand to hand as she locked eyes with them. In a quiet voice she told them, "If I were you two I'd keep my *paws* off Sinbad in the future." Maeve winked at them. "He's mine...you see. And I don't like to share." She tossed the fireball into the air then grinned. "Do we understand one another?" Maeve queried.
"Um...yes," Lateefah replied with a gulp. Her eyes widened as she watched the fireball dance in Maeve's hand. She looked at her sister and Habiba nodded, vigorously.
"Good," Maeve said. She extinguished the fireball then sauntered away. "You owe me big time for this one, Sinbad," she whispered. Then she laughed. That had been way too much fun.
Back in his cabin, Sinbad changed into a soft shirt with longsleeves. It was Ivory colored and molded to his lean torso like a glove. He sighed as he rewrapped his sash. He left his belt off for he didn't believe he'd be needing his saber. Glancing about, Sinbad wished that his headband would *magically* appear for he was getting tired of combing his hair out of his eyes. Course, he could always chop it off, and all his problems would be solved. Even as Sinbad reached for his dagger, he shook away the thought. An image of Maeve flashed in his mind's...memories of her long fingers combing through his hair. And he remembered the one night when she had made him promise not to cut it. "And I always keep my word," Sinbad reminded himself. He heaved another sigh then went topside.
Doubar was at the tiller and he was not alone. Salama was practically hanging off his arm. When he saw Sinbad his eyes lit up with hope. "Little brother, perhaps you would like to show the Princess Salama around the Nomad. She's told me that she would love a tour of her."
"Really?" Sinbad countered, smiling at the oldest of the three princesses. He glanced out of the corner of his eye, half expecting Habiba and Lateefah to appear and jump him again. But they seemed to have vanished. Although he could sympathize with Doubar's plight, Sinbad decided to have some fun at his brother's expense. He smiled at Salama. "Your highness, I'm afraid that I must beg off giving you a tour as it's my turn to man the tiller. But that means that Doubar is free to show you around."
"Sinbad!" Doubar glared at his sibling.
Salama offered Sinbad a curtsy, and a conspiritorial wink. Then she took Doubar's arm and dragged him away.
Sinbad was still chuckling as he grabbed hold of the tiller. Dermott glided overhead and came to perch beside him. Sinbad grinned at the hawk, who seemed to lock eyes with him. Sinbad swallowed his laughter. "I know, Dermott," he said. "That wasn't very nice of me...but you gotta admit it was funny." Sinbad dissolved into laughter once more and several minutes passed before he could control himself. He felt Dermott's eyes upon him the entire time. Sinbad controlled himself, then lifted his face to the wind. It blew his hair into his eyes and he huffed with frustration. But then a happy thought occurred and he shared it with the Hawk. "Just think, Dermott. Only two more day till we reach Baghdad. Allah be praised." Sinbad paused to spit hair out of his mouth then rolled his eyes. "Now...if I could only find my headband," he drawled.
Dermott chirped and took to the air.
It was the third day and all appeared to be well when the Nomad suddenly ran aground. Sinbad and his crew stared over the side of the ship, bewilderment mirrored on all of their faces.
Sinbad looked at Maeve. "Could it be magic?" he queried.
She shrugged. "I don't know. I am feeling...something. It's not evil though. It seems..." she paused, searching for the word. "Um...it seems almost...playful."
Doubar scowled. "Playful?" he scoffed. "That's ridiculous, Maeve. There has to be a *reasonable* explanation for this.
Firouz had been gazing about and he suddenly pointed off to their left. "Look!"
They all did and to there amazement, an ethereal creature appeared in the shallow water surrounding the sand bank they were on. It was obviously a *she* and she had flowing white hair and shimmery skin.
"It's a water sprite," Maeve announced, laughing with delight.
"Come play with me," the sprite requested, in a whispery, musical voice.
Sinbad couldn't help but smile, even as he shook his head. "We'd love to play," he said. "But I'm afraid that we can't. Not right now. We're in a bit of a hurry to reach Baghdad. But we'll be coming back this way soon. Perhaps we can play then."
The water sprite pouted at them. "I wanna play now!" She demanded.
Maeve sighed. "We really would like to, but we can't. Can you please free our ship?"
"Ooooooo!" The water sprite flushed pink and tossed her pale hair. "Fine! See if I care!" she spat. She waved one hand and the Nomad found herself back in deep waters.
Sinbad expelled a sigh of relief. "That went well," he drawled. But he'd spoken too soon. For in that moment the water sprite had her revenge by using her magic to toss Salama over board. The fat Princess hit the water with a mighty splash. "Oh no..." Sinbad groaned, as he and Doubar ran for the rail. Sinbad climbed over the side to offer Salama a hand up. The Princess was furious, to say the least, and she uttered some colorful curses as Sinbad hauled her up out of the water. It wasn't easy.
Doubar and Rongar reached for Salama, but as she climbed over the side, she used Sinbad to push off from and he ended up toppling into the water. For the second time in three days.
Maeve swallowed her laughter as she helped Sinbad back on board. He glared at her, but it wasn't very effective since his wet hair covered his eyes. Turning on his heel, Sinbad stomped off down below to change once again.
When Sinbad joined the others topside, this time he was dressed in an exotically colorful outfit. Smooth, black leather pants were tucked into black suede, wide-cuffed thigh boots. And the outfit was completed with a sapphire-blue, full-sleeved shirt. Sinbad didn't know it, but he looked every inch the pirate.
Doubar grinned at him from the tiller. "Little brother, isn't that the outfit that Talia gave you?" he questioned.
Maeve had been studying Sinbad from head to toe, and liking what she saw, until Talia's name was mentioned. She locked eyes with Sinbad. "Answer your brother," she challenged. "Did that...woman...give you this outfit?"
"I...uh....I don't remember," Sinbad countered, fully aware that he was doing a lousy job of fibbing. He glared at Doubar but a smile soon curved his lips as a thought occurred. "Big brother, I think I see Salama coming," he teased. Then he laughed as Doubar turned pale and handed the tiller over to a nearby crewman. Heaving a sigh, and trying to ignore Maeve's stare, Sinbad glanced about him. As far as he could see, it was smooth sailing ahead. "Where are Firouz and Rongar?" he asked Maeve.
"Midship," she replied, pointing. "Rongar is teaching Firouz how to throw a dagger."
Sinbad's eyes widened in disbelief. "Are you serious? Firouz and daggers?" Sinbad pretended to shudder. "Scary thought."
Maeve nodded and laughed with him, her anger over his attire forgotten. "Wanna watch?" she invited.
"Let's," Sinbad replied. Reaching for her hand. They strolled to midship and Sinbad shook his head as he watched Firouz fling a dagger at the mast. It missed by a foot.
Rongar shook his head but handed over another dagger. Firouz squinted at his target, pulled back his arm and let it fly. It hit the mast, cutting threw a line. The line that led to one of the small sails and a moment later the heavy canvas dropped over Sinbad.
"Oh No," Firouz groaned.
Maeve laughed, even as she ran forward to help Sinbad out from under the sail. She laughed even harder when he emerged, his sea-blue eyes flashing and trying to brush his hair off his face. "Are you all right?" Maeve managed to gasp out between chuckles.
"I'm just DANDY!" Sinbad hissed between gritted teeth. He turned to glare at Firouz who was wise enough to retreat, with Rongar on his heels. Sinbad kicked the said then bellowed, "Rehang the sail! NOW!" Three crewman hurried to obey.
"Well, that was interesting," Maeve commented as she followed Sinbad to the bow. "You seem to be having a run of bad luck, Sinbad. It's not like you."
He sighed, expelling the last of his anger, even as he finger combed his hair back, yet again. "Tell me about it, Maeve," he countered softly. "Nothing seems to be going my way these passed few days. I feel like I'm jinxed."
Maeve pretended to move away. "Well keep it to yourself," she teased. Then she reached out to pat his shoulder. "Cheer up, Sinbad. We'll be in Baghdad by tomorrow night."
"If I live that long," he replied, but he managed to smile. "I shudder to think what might happen next."
"I wouldn't say that too loud," Maeve cautioned.
Sinbad nodded. But, to his relief, the rest of the day.. and night...passed without mishap.
On the fourth day the sun shone brightly and Sinbad was happy to learn that they would reach Baghdad in less than sixteen hours. The Pasha was pleased with Sinbad and his crew and had ordered his cook to prepare a farewell feast. It was a luncheon feast, for they all knew that the Caliph would have a late night celebration waiting for them upon their arrival.
As a gift, Pasha Bijou brought out a crate of expensive red wine and gave each member of Sinbad's crew their own bottle. Sinbad sipped at the heady liquid, but Maeve took big swallows and quickly became giddy. She was feeling so good, relaxed and carefree that she didn't care who watched as she grabbed a bowl of plump grapes and planted herself on Sinbad's lap. She then proceeded to feed him the luscious fruit. All of which was fine and dandy, until she spilled wine all over the front of him.
"Maeve..." Sinbad groaned as he dumped her off his lap. The dark red liquid was staining his blue shirt purple.
"S'kay," Maeve muttered, I didn't like that shirt anyways," she told him, grinning from ear to ear.
Sinbad shook his head at her then turned and left the room. He was running out of shirts to where, he grumbled to himself, as he entered his cabin. He went to close the door but met up with resistance. "What the..."
Maeve pushed her way inside, smiling at Sinbad and waving her bottle of wine. She shut the door and leaned against it. "I came to help you change your shirt," she informed him. She spoke slowly, carefully enunciating each word.
"You're drunk, Maeve," Sinbad pronounced, as he snatched the wine bottle out of her hands.
"Yeah..." she drawled, smirking at him. "Ain't it great?" Maeve giggled as she stalked Sinbad till his back thumped against the wall. Her hands pulled the tails of the blue shirt out of the waist band of his breeches, then she slid it off his shoulders. When it hit the floor, Maeve bent her head and kiss his smooth shoulder. "Mmmmmm...." she murmmured. "Delicious."
Sinbad swallowed hard and grabbed her shoulders to hold her away from him. He felt his heartbeat quicken and the temperature seemed to have risen in the space of one breath. "Maeve...I think you should lie down and...rest," he told her. Still keeping her at arms length, Sinbad guided the sorceress over to his bed and made her lie down.
Maeve reached for Sinbad, trying to pull him down with her. She pouted at him when he stepped away. "You're no fun," she groused. Then she giggled. Not because anything was funny, but because she was giddy with desire. Standing as he was, half naked before her, Sinbad was as beautiful as a greek god. Especially with locks of bronze-gold hair falling over his eyes. "Mmmmmm..." Maeve sighed. Of their own accord her eyes closed, but she retained the luscious image of Sinbad and carried it into her dreams.
"Phew..." Sinbad heaved a sigh of relief as he watched Maeve curl up on her side and fall to sleep. He covered her with a light blanket then headed for his sea chest to scrounge up another shirt. But then he stopped and looked back at the bed. Sinbad hadn't slept the night before and the thought of a few hours of slumber, while holding Maeve in his arms was too appealing to ignore. So Sinbad slid into bed beside the beautiful sorceress and smiled as she snuggled against him. Closing his eyes, Sinbad was asleep in a heartbeat.
A heavy pounding startled Sinbad awake. He was too dazed to recognize the origin of the sound until he heard a familiar voice shout,
"Little brother! We've reached Baghdad."
"Be right there, Doubar!" Sinbad replied. It was only then that he realized he was lying on his back with Maeve draped across his chest. Sinbad tried to slide out from under her without disturbing her slumber, but Maeve's eyes fluttered open and glared at him.
"What's going on?" she muttered, then she groaned. Her head ached abominably.
Sinbad winced in sympathy. "We've reached Baghdad," he whispered. Knowing that any loud sounds would only cause her more pain. Especially since his lips were close to her ear.
Maeve suddenly realized that she felt warm, bare, skin beneath her palms. She was lying on Sinbad's chest. "OH!" she muttered, jumping up and scrambling off the bed. She instantly regretted her quick movements and, clapping a hand over her mouth, she ran from the cabin.
"Poor Maeve," Sinbad muttered as he slid out of bed. He went to his sea chest and dug for a shirt. He groaned when all he could find was a bright scarlet pirate shirt. "Great..." he hissed as he pulled it on. Then he rewrapped his sash, belted on his sheath, slid his saber into it then headed for the door.
Twenty minutes later Sinbad, his crew and his cargo were on shore and greeting the Caliph. Sinbad had hoped to say his 'Hellos and Goodbyes' and make a quick departure. But the Caliph insisted that they stay for the Pasha's welcoming celebration. Sinbad smiled and accepted, for there was nothing else he could do. So he and his crew ate, drank and danced for the next four hours. Then Sinbad insisted that he had to go. The Caliph handed Sinbad TWO bags of gold and informed him that the Nomad had been resupplied by his men while the celebration had been going on.
"Thank you, your highness," Sinbad replied, as he bowed before the Caliph. He was truly grateful.
Doubar and the others were delighted as they followed Sinbad out. They were halfway back to the Nomad when Sinbad realized something. "Where's Maeve."
"She had an errand to run," Firouz replied.
"Did she say how long she would be?" Sinbad queried. He wanted to head back to the open seas before any other mishap could befall him.
Firouz shrugged. "She didn't say." But even as he spoke, Maeve came running up to them.
"Am I late?" she asked, panting for breath. She had a large package tucked beneath one arm.
Sinbad shook his head. "We were just leaving."
Maeve nodded. "Excellent!" She grinned at him then headed off. Rongar and Firouz followed at her heels, while Sinbad and Doubar lagged behind.
Doubar smiled at his brother. "Well, Sinbad," he drawled. "These past few days have been...interesting."
"The word is horrible, Doubar," Sinbad countered firmly, suppressing a shudder at the memories that were invoked. "Thank goodness it's over."
"I hear that." Doubar sighed. "Salama was a bit too agressive for my tastes."
Sinbad laughed. "Yes...well...hopefully my run of bad luck has now ended." He hefted the two bags of gold. "I'd say that this is a good start."
Doubar clapped his shoulder. "Indeed it is, little brother. Indeed it his." Then he quickened his step to catch up to the others.
"Hmmm.." Sinbad murmured as he paused to hook the bags of gold to his belt. "Now...if I could only find my headband...that would be the end of an *almost* perfect day."
Just then Dermott soared overhead and screeched. Sinbad glanced up at the hawk and his eyes widened. There was a scrap of red material clutched in his talons. "My headband," Sinbad whispered. He reached out and caught the piece of cloth as Dermott released it. Sinbad shook a finger at the hawk. "Now where did you get this?" he challenged.
Dermott chirped and soared off.
"Never mind," Sinbad drawled as he tied the headband into place. "I've got the feeling that I don't want to know. A smile curved his lips and there was a liveliness to his step as he hurried to catch up to his companions.
The Nomad was several hours out to sea, and Sinbad was about to go to bed, when there was a knock on his door. When he opened it, he was more than a little surprised to see Maeve standing, smiling at him. "Uh...come in," he invited, after she had already stepped inside. "How's your hangover?"
Maeve grinned at him. "It's just a memory," she told him. "Firouz gave me some nasty stuff but it worked." Her hands had been behind her back but she brought them forward and held out the package she had brought from Baghdad. "It's for you," she announced.
"What is it?" Sinbad countered as he accepted it.
"Open it and see," Maeve prompted. She couldn't keep a smile off her lips.
Sinbad studied her for a moment, then set the package on the bed and did as she bid. Inside were shirts. Seven of them, to be exact.
Maeve laughed softly as she explained. "One for every day of the week, Sinbad. So you won't run out again." Even as she spoke, Maeve's nimble fingers were pulling the scarlet shirt that Sinbad was wearing off his shoulders. Her instincts told her that it was yet, another, *gift* from Talia. Once the shirt was off, Maeve tossed it in the corner. Then she reached in the box for the shirt that was her personal favorite. It was teal blue and had tight sleeves and the sides crisscrossed each other. She helped Sinbad put it on then stepped back to admire him. He looked beautiful.
"Thank you, Maeve," Sinbad told her, as he smoothed his hands over the soft material.
"That's it?" She countered scowling at him. "That's the best you can do?"
Sinbad frowned in confusion. "I'm not sure what you mean?"
Maeve smiled seductively. "Sure you do," she whispered. "I want a *proper* thank you."
"Ahhhh..." Sinbad drawled, as realization dawned. Moving with cat-like grace, Sinbad stepped forward and wrapped one arm around Maeve's waist, then he bent her backwards. When he claimed her lips in a kiss...playfulness soon turned to tenderness...and they were both breathless when Sinbad pulled her back up. "Uh...how was that?" he queried, a bemused expression on his face.
"Better," Maeve whispered, as her eyes locked with Sinbad's.
He offered a dimpled grin. "Shall I try again?"
Maeve pulled off his headband then buried her fingers in his silky tresses. "Please do," she invited, even as she pulled his head down.
The kiss seemed to last for an eternity...or perhaps time simply stood still. Either way, Sinbad and Maeve were oblivious to everything but each other.
On deck, Doubar, Rongar and Firouz passed the time with a card game. If any of them wondered where Maeve and Sinbad were...or what they were doing....they didn't ask.
