Celestina, Warrior Queen

By Susan Stephens

The love story continues between Celestina and the Sultan, but now Celestina must defend the country while Karim takes his place at the head of the army.

All the lessons learned since Celestina left the sanctuary of the convent for the scheming life of the harem must come into play, but now Celestina must not only outwit enemies within the palace walls, but defend herself against the gathering forces outside.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Stephens
• Release date: Oct 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781910604465

Susan Stephens

Romance with heart, heat and red-hot men, written by author addicted to all of the above.USA TODAY best-selling author Susan Stephens has captivated readers worldwide, selling over 10 million copies of her books. Susan’s stories have been translated into 26 languages, reaching readers in 109 countries. this year, Susan celebrates a remarkable milestone with the publication of her 100th book.Living in Yorkshire, England, Susan is surrounded by a large, loving family—a delightful surprise for someone who grew up as an only child. Her passion for storytelling and family shines through in every page she writes, inviting you to share in her vibrant world.NEW short-reads series: ACOSTAS RAW: RODEOBEAU 1# Release date 26th JulyComing soon 2# COLT 3# BLAKENew FATED BY FIRE series. Anthology, 3 HIGHLAND DRAGON ROMANCES with Angelique Armae and Carole Mortimer available for pre-order now. Release date June 28th1# TORRAN (September 2024 will be Susan's 100th book) 2# ACTON coming soonBLOOD AND THUNDER series: Dangerous women. Hard men. Ferocious passion.ALEXEI. https://books2read.com/u/m2leOdDANTE. https://books2read.com/u/38dejVDIEGO https://books2read.com/u/me9XezCESAR https://books2read.com/u/mB25GACONOR https://books2read.com/u/baDBNQELIJAH coming soonBooks 1-4 BLOOD AND THUNDER available as a box set https://books2read.com/u/mYGQ7Y

Book preview

Chapter One

Beyond the fretted screen

The harem, 1529

The Sultan’s harem in the golden city of Sarandopol is known as the Golden Cage. There is nowhere more lavish where scholarship, physical skill and devotion to the erotic arts come together.

As I sink back on my silken cushions, I still find it hard to believe I am here or that my life could have turned around so completely in just two years. Tomorrow is the second anniversary of my being sold into slavery by Sister Anna, a wicked nun at the convent where I was abandoned as a child. It was my good luck that my unusual colouring attracted the attention of the crones who work for the Sultan’s harem, rather than the slave traders who supply the doxy houses. The crones transformed Sister Anna’s act of cruelty into a blessing, taking me from scratchy grey serge to billowing chiffon and more food than I could eat, all in a matter of hours. For a girl who had grown up with her stomach growling on many a day, that was quite a shock to my system, I can tell you. But best of all, my induction into the harem brought me to the attention of the man who was to become the love of my life.

Far more than my appearance has changed since my days at the convent, for I am evolving daily like a seed that has never seen the sun. My mind soaks up knowledge like a greedy sponge, while my body has never been more acutely aware of the pleasures available to it.

This radical improvement in my situation was the very last thing the nun had planned for me and it drove her half out of her mind to the point where she tried to kill me. My husband assures me that Sister Anna will never hurt me again. Personally, I doubt she will ever leave my life for good, but as my husband is the mighty Sultan Kemal the Magnificent, I can hardly disagree.

Incredible though it still seems, the mighty Sultan, whom I alone am permitted to call by his given name, Karim, noticed and picked me out for training, crafting from my rough clay the ultimate concubine. Karim was so pleased with his handiwork he made me his queen. He is not just my heart, my soul or even simply a Sultan, for Karim is the Sultan, the wealthiest and most powerful warrior king on the face of the earth.

If I were to ask Karim what qualities he first saw in me, I think he would mention my spirit first and then my defiance. And of course I am a survivor and he likes that, too. I am also a young bride who cannot get enough of her husband. It goes without saying that my sexual appetite pleases Karim more than anything else. For my part, I can only say that if I were to live to be as old as Methuselah it would not be long enough for me to have my fill of Karim. He has made me insatiable and I rejoice in our mutual appetite.

When I am not perfecting my erotic skills under Karim’s expert supervision, I am filling my mind with knowledge from the tutors he sends me. These wise men teach me about the world outside the harem. One thing they have explained is why Karim must remain on guard. A kingdom so prosperous and at the forefront of learning will always attract the greedy attention of those who envy Karim.

Karim told me he grew up surrounded by rivals for his throne and dealt with them ruthlessly, displaying their heads on pikes along the city walls as a warning to anyone who might think of defying him. They called him Kemal the Merciless at the time, but I know what it cost Karim to make his throne secure. Executing childhood friends and relatives who betrayed him for the chance to take a tilt at his throne affected Karim deeply, and he is still suspicious, but I understand this and forgive him readily. My only wish is to help him in any way I can.

One of the ways I do this is by offering Karim sexual release in many inventive ways. Karim taught me well, and is still teaching me new techniques. Can you blame me for embracing these lessons with enthusiasm, when the most feared warrior in the civilised world is my insatiable lover, and I am so very keen to learn?

Since coming to live in the harem I have been exposed to a world of carnal excess that even the gossipmongers outside these palace walls could not begin to imagine. Far from being shocked, I have discovered a natural aptitude for the erotic arts. How could it be otherwise, when my husband, though a much older man than me, is a devastatingly attractive, black-hearted satyr with appetites that easily eclipse my own?

At this moment, I am waiting in our private room of pleasure, which is a gilded jewel in a palace of unimaginable opulence. My lord Sultan is training with his men and will come to me when he is ready for some alternative physical activity. Karim’s extreme level of fitness and strength has never been matched, though I worry for him, as there are casualties on the training ground every week, some of which are fatal. To distract me, Karim has arranged an entertainment today, and I am curious to know what this is.

My lord Sultan has warned me to make the most of these last hours of ease, as I am to leave the harem soon in order to train at Karim’s warrior school. This might seem an unlikely course for the Sultan’s beloved wife to undertake, but Karim’s priority has always been my safety. These are dangerous times, and Karim rides out frequently with his armies to defend our borders and wants to be sure that I can protect myself while he is away. To this end he has been training me in the art of war for some time now. We practice armed and unarmed combat, both mounted and on foot, but these sessions often end with us tangling in a very different way. Karim has decided I now must begin my training under his most celebrated general, the Amazonian slave princess, Vigia Complexus. Everyone has heard of this woman’s harsh training methods, but I intend to survive them and win her over. I’m certainly not frightened of her. I was always the optimist, and after my experiences of Sister Anna’s cruelty at the convent, what could possibly frighten me? I shall do well at warrior school to make my husband proud, or I will die in the attempt.

Karim loves my fiery nature, but he is known as a ferocious warrior, so we are hardly a feeble couple. Thankfully, when we are alone together I see a very different side of Karim, and it is a side of him that binds me to my husband as no amount of fear ever could. Karim can be tender and loving with me, but he has also shown me the benefit of pain when it is allied to pleasure, for he is an expert in all the body’s responses, especially mine. He tells me I am still a novice with much to learn. I think he does this because he knows it excites me, for I am his most willing pupil.

Karim delivers these demanding tutorials from his great age of twenty-six and from the towering heights of his matchless intellect, while my mind is still a work in progress and I have no way of knowing exactly how old I am. If the nuns had thought to ask my mother before she left me at the convent, I might have a clue, but I imagine Sister Anna was too busy counting the money she planned to make from a small, pale, blue-eyed child, with the blonde hair and willowy frame so beloved of the ruling class of men in this country.

Karim might be a lot older than me, but my sharp wits have never been in question, and so I keep him entertained. They used to tell me at the convent that I asked too many questions, whereas Karim says I can never ask him enough. We talk constantly when we’re not making love. Admittedly, we have to talk fast as we make love much of the time, but when we do talk our minds fly far beyond this Golden Cage to embrace the rest of the world, where it seems to me there is a war in every land. Religion and greed is at the heart of much of this strife, Karim has explained to me. The English King Henry is even trying to get rid of his wife, Queen Catherine of Aragon, who is said to be a great lady and is the mother of his daughter Mary, but the king is determined to be rid of her, and Karim says this is all for the sake of a dalliance with one of Queen Catherine’s handmaidens, Anne Boleyn.

There is a lesson for me to learn here, I think, and that is that I can never take anything for granted. For example, my position in life here at the palace depends upon my husband, but what if Karim were killed on one of his many campaigns? Would I allow grief to destroy me and Karim’s enemies to kill me and obliterate everything he has achieved, or would I live on and fight to preserve his legacy?

If I’m to thrive I must become my own person, rather than some pampered doll in the harem. I must learn everything I can from my tutors, and I must train hard and learn both to fight and to think like a man. I am lucky in that my appetite for education is as insatiable as my lust for sex, and that I have a husband who supports me in my learning. ‘Knowledge is power,’ Karim is always telling me. And if I am to be a warrior queen, as he would like and as I aspire to be, I know there are many different battlefields upon which I shall have to fight.

Our talks are not all grim. We study the stars and talk about the universe as our astronomers map it, as well as that place we cannot see, where we go when we die, but which we all know must exist—

‘Excuse me, Your Grace—’

I must pause from my tale. One of my attendants, a girl I am particularly fond of called Challah, is hovering behind me, waiting to speak. Challah used to work in the kitchens at the convent where we became friends when I had nothing. As soon as my position here was secure after my marriage to Karim, I sent for Challah and brought her to live with me. Rivalry here in the harem is intense, even for a queen, and it will never be possible to be completely sure of anyone, but in Challah, at least, I think I have an ally. Challah keeps me on my toes by reminding me of my past, when my life was as full of risk beneath the seemingly tranquil surface of the convent as it is here in the harem. The only certainty at the convent was the call to prayer, when Sister Anna used to seat Challah and I together in the only act of kindness I can ever recall receiving from the nun.

‘Don’t you like the sweetmeats we brought you, Your Grace?’

‘Please don’t call me that, Challah. You know it isn’t necessary to stand on ceremony when we’re alone.’ I understand her reticence. We never know who lurks behind the fretted screens. There is always someone listening in a harem full of gossip.

‘You’re very good to me, Your Grace,’ Challah whispers as she dips me the lowest of curtsies.

‘There—you’ve done it again,’ I exclaim, smiling.

‘I am your most loyal servant,’ Challah protests in the same muted tone.

‘I don’t doubt it for a moment. We are friends, are we not?’

Glancing round, I take in the array of treats on golden platters Challah has brought for me to choose from. There is enough to feed an army and its followers.

‘I can’t eat all this. Why don’t you take some for you and the other girls to share between you?’

‘I apologise for the excess, Your—’ Challah blushes as she stops ‘—Celestina. ‘The kitchen staff insisted I must bring you a selection of their finest sweet indulgences.’

The freedom for overworked kitchen staff to enjoy a few hours leave from their duties each week seemed long overdue to me, and this is a demonstration of their thanks, I suspect, for my speaking to the royal comptroller of kitchens on their behalf.

‘They’re trying to fatten me up,’ I tell Challah ruefully.

‘Without much success.’ Challah’s gaze sweeps my lithe form beneath my flowing clothes. ‘But thank you, Celestina. The other girls will be thrilled by these sweetmeats.’

I brush this off. ‘We must look after each other, Challah. I didn’t seek this excess. You do know that, don’t you?’

‘Of course,’ my old friend exclaims heatedly.

What I say to Challah is true. I simply make the best of any situation in which I find myself. And then I found Karim. Or rather he found me, and as soon as I was established as his wife I sent for anyone I could from my childhood to join my household at the palace.

‘Do I have your leave to go, Celestina?’

‘Of course!’ The platters are heavy, I realise, feeling guilty now for keeping Challah standing.

I’m glad I could bring Challah to work here. I know how lucky I am to be married to a husband I adore, and I understand that everyone isn’t as fortunate as me, so to see Challah fitting in so well here makes me happy for her.

And now the sweetmeats have got the better of me. Picking up a handful, I cram them in my mouth. Not very queenly of me, but we ladies of the harem have a boundless appetite for sweet things. We’re like children in that respect, and in so many other ways, I suspect as I admire my new jewelled slippers. Thank goodness the Jordanian traders sell knickknacks and trifles to catch the eye alongside these delicious little almond delicacies, which have nearly all gone now, I notice with alarm.

I must stop daydreaming as there is a rustling behind the golden screen that tells me it’s time for whatever performance Karim has arranged for my pleasure. I am hidden from the performers, of course, on the other side of this cunning screen, though I can see them quite clearly.

Two male performers! And quite beautiful performers at that. That is a surprise. Karim is spoiling me. They are heavily guarded, of course, as are all noncastrated males in the harem, whether their preference is for women or not. My excitement grows as the beautiful boys mount their stage of cushions and bow low to my unseen presence, for they know I am here watching them, and there is a glow of pride on their cheeks, for it is a great honour to be performing for their queen.

I am curious to discover how this performance plays out and how it affects me. I have seen many erotic acts since arriving in the harem, and while some have aroused me, others have made me laugh, though I think these two young men are not faking their affection for each other, so I will give them the attention they deserve.

There is such longing in their eyes. It reminds me that they will have been tethered, just as I was bound when I first arrived here. This was so I couldn’t touch myself at night to bring myself the relief I so badly needed when most of my day was spent training my body to respond. I’m guessing the most these boys can hope for is to catch a tantalising glimpse of each other from time to time, and then only when they are heavily chaperoned or when they are performing, like today. This all adds to the tension, for them and for me.

Reaching forward, they remove each other’s loin-cloths and I can see they are both extremely well hung. This, of course, is why they will have been chosen to work in the harem, though even as well blessed as they are, they do not come close to the scale of my beloved, Karim—but then, who can? I am not surprised to see they are massively erect. I have no doubt they have longed for this moment. I have never seen two men together, so I am naturally intrigued. Though I know their performance will have been choreographed in advance by one of the training eunuchs, in my experience there is always scope for improvisation, and even the most talented players cannot compete with true desire, for that will add an urgency and spice to this encounter that cannot be faked.

One youth is pale-skinned with cheeks as smooth as a girl’s, while the other has darker skin and is quite a bit older. The pale youth’s limbs are girlish, while the older boy is hard-muscled, with an attractive shade of stubble on his darkly handsome face. This reminds me of Karim, who is brutally masculine with a face that is both rugged and beautiful. And as for stubble—Karim’s stubble has brought me more pleasure than I can possibly describe, and that’s before our real fun begins.

But hush, for the boys are about to begin—

They are seated facing each other with their legs outstretched. The paler youth has his legs resting over his partner’s and now they are kissing each other as if they are alone in the universe. Their intensity touches me. Their skill is obvious. They have been very well trained—well, we all are in the harem. The dark youth is using his tongue particularly well to tease his partner’s lips and now his ear-lobe. I feel an answering twinge as he teases the blond boy’s lips