Marta Pravica Trklja
Marta Pravica Trklja was born in the village of Bijelac, Town of Trebinje, former Yugoslavia. She immigrated to Canada in an attempt to avoid getting swallowed up by the political instability Europe was facing in the mid-sixties. Mrs. Trklja taught Business English at Sheridan College, and had held a position as a Career Adviser at York University, Toronto. Besides her Master Thesis, Mrs. Trklja has written three novels of which Wounded Dove in Honor and Disgrace is her first published work. For this project Mrs. Trklja was awarded the Toronto Arts Council Grant for Work in Progress. Mrs. Trklja’s second published novel is Melina: A Departure from Tradition.
***Fiction***
Wounded Dove in Honnor and Disgrace
Set in the sixteenth century Village of Gruica's Bridge in Eastern Herzegovina, near the Adriatic Sea, Wounded Dove in Honor and Disgrace, explores an age long struggle for human understanding in the midst of political and social collision between the Muslim and Christian civilizations. Through the portrayal of a tradition in turmoil, it clearly points to grave sorrow the oppressed women of that time had to endure. It depicts their struggle for survival in the dominant male world and their reaction to overwhelming conditions, imposed upon them by the Ottoman Turks from the outside, and by the outlawed slave-traders from within. It is a moving delineation of poverty and a search for that inner peace rarely found in a ruptured soul. It highlights the brutal truth that violence can only bring more, reactive violence. The main character, Angelina is a remarkable woman, who refuses to be daunted by the pressures imposed upon her. She is determined to take charge of her life. In order to ensure her husband's release from the Ottoman Turkish dungeons and save her family's honor, she is prepared to take drastic measures by crossing the pre-set boundaries of convention and that of natural law. It is from this forbidden transgression that Angelina reaches out to touch a cord and make an unmistakably deep connection with the reader. Although the events in this novel took place centuries ago, the author longed to recreate true to life characters that reflect the reality of that time, where both Ottoman Turks and Christians were victims of the circumstances surrounding them.
Melina: A Depature from Tradition
Melina : A Departure from Tradition is a story about a young woman who becomes a victim of her future father-in-law's obsession with upholding the traditions of his ancestors. She is a remarkable young woman who, after the loss of her memori in an accident, caused by her fiance's father, adopts to change and couragously struggles to discover who she really is.
***Up Comming***
Deina: A Matter of Survival
A compelling story of survival of the human spirit is set against two backgrounds: Dubrovnik, on the Adriatic Coast and Toronto, on the shores of Lake Ontario. It is narrated from three distinct points of view, filled with ardent emotions to appeal to readers from age 15 to 70.
An Unwilling Master and a Reluctant Slave Bride
Two times within twenty-four hours, Zlatomirka became a victim of circumstances. First, she couldn’t disobey her father nor could she have disgraced his word of honor which he gave in good faith when he made a covenant with an old land-owner. He had promised her father to free him from all his debts. In addition, he would pay him an unimaginable amount of Dubrovnik’s golden ducats for his daughter’s hand in marriage. Zlatomirka considered committing suicide, but to commit suicide meant to commit a mortal sin. So she changed her mind and did what she thought to be the next best think. Without thinking things through to decide where to go or what to do, she ran away from home in the middle of the night. Second, she accidentally fell into the hands of the slave traders. A dark, handsome and virile master purchased her at the slave market. Zlatomirka planned, at the first opportunity, to run away from him as well.She found it difficult to do so when she discovered that her master had freed all his slaves. And then he gave them an option of staying on his olive plantation to work for him for daily wages or they were free to go wherever they wanted.
Abstract - An Unwilling Master and a Reluctant Slave Bride
Zlatomirka feared she was going to lose her mind when she was told that her father had given her hand in marriage to an old, ugly land-lord who offered to clear all his debts. In addition, he would pay him an unimaginable sum of Dubrovnik’s ducats as a dowry for her hand in marriage. At first Zlatomirka considered committing suicide. But to commit suicide meant to commit a mortal sin. So she changed her mind. She waited until dinner was over and the house quieted down after everyone went to bed. She silently slipped away in the dark of the night. She had no specific plan where she was going or what she was going to do. The only thing she knew was that she wanted to go as far away from her father’s house as possible before they discovered that she was gone. She reached the main road. Without realizing it, she joined a group of white slaves and became a captive of the slave traders’ who were delivering them to (Ragusa’s) Dubrovnik’s slave market.
She didn’t recognize any of them, nor did anyone pay much attention to her all night. She just walked alongside this young woman who was carrying a sleeping child in her arms. The only thing that penetrated her numb mind was an occasional sound of a whip that one of the slave traders flicked expertly above their heads. Afraid to leave a mark on their skin, he didn’t dare let the whip fall on their backs. A marred skin on the slave pointed to laziness and disobedience. Those kinds of slaves brought less revenue. That kind of punishment he would leave to their future
masters.
They reached Dubrovnik at dawn. The echoing sound from their wooden shoes on the cobble stones brought Zlatomirka out of her stupor. She looked around her. Although she was aware of her presence, Zlatomirka for the first time really noticed the woman with the child in her arms. She said in a whisper, “I am so confused. Can you please tell me where we are?” She asked. We are in Dubrovnik. These men have purchased us and are taking us to the slave market to sell us again. But what are you doing among us? You look as if you had just escaped something terrible because it looks like you run away still dressed in your night gown.
Zlatomirka looked down her body and tried to cover herself with her hands. The events from the day before started flooding her tormented mind. “Yes, I ran away from something that was worse than death.” She tried to
move close to the edge of the street, intending to escape through the next street on the left hand side. The woman cautioned her not to do so. The slave traders will not let you leave. I heard them betting how much money
they would get for you at the slave market.
“But I am not a slave. I ran away from home, but I am not a slave, I tell you.” She closed her mouth as one of the two slave traders stepped beside her. He was leisurely hitting the palm of his hand with the whip he was carrying.
Once they were at the entrance of the slave market someone opened the door into a large courtyard with
a beautiful Persian rug in the middle of it and; they herded them inside–not unlike the cattle.
The slaves were told to move back and forth for a few minutes, so that the slave masters were able to assess their physical appearance, then the owner of the slave market ordered them all out of the courtyard.
When someone closed the door behind them, a dark handsome man in a black suit, white shirt and black hat, ordered, “Bring the best and the fittest ones in first. I don’t have all day. I have to load my ship and depart from the docks before noon.
“Yes Lord Emanuel; it will b e as you requested,” the owner of the slave market said.
The door opened and someone pushed Zlatomirka in so forcefully that she landed on one of her knees. She pulled lots of air into her lungs and expelled it before she stood up. She stopped for a moment to inhale deeply again, and then lifted her head high and walked to the centre of a beautiful Persian rug to which someone pointed. Mario, one of the slave-traders that had been walking beside her on the street, started pointing to her beauty and how much the original purchase of her had cost them. So would you, gentlemen, please, take your time and look at her closely.” He came from behind and pulled the string that held her long wavy hair. “Who is going to begin bidding, first?”
“I will pay fifteen Dubrovnik’s ducats,” one fellow said. Zlatomirka looked straight ahead. “Thirty five,” another one hurried to say.”
“Come on, gentlemen,” Mario said what are you waiting for? She is young and beautiful. Look at her face and her beautiful hair.” “I am good for seventy-five ducats,” someone else shouted out.Mario looked at them. They were devouring the girl with their lustful eyes. He was getting excited himself. He came in front of Zlatomirka, grabbed at her night-gown, right at her throat, and ripped it all the way down. He took it off of her body in one single move. The only noticeable expression on her face was a momentary dark shadow which passed over her face. But she didn’t move; she just lifted her head in a more dignified way.
Mario exclaimed, “Come on, gentlemen, do I have to put my hand between her legs, to see if she is tight enough and moist enough for you.” “Yes, do, few of them shouted. We would like to watch you do it.”
“Five hundred Dubrovnik’s ducats, said the voice one the right hand side of her in a somewhat tiresome tone of voice. Zlatomirka’s skin turned into goose bumps. She didn’t turn her head, but her eyes involuntarily flew towards the place from which the sound of his voice came. It was a man in black suit and black hat who offered so much money for her. Nobody said anything; they all looked openmouthed as Lord Emanuel took the satisfaction of bidding for her from them.
“Five-hundred Dubrovnik’s ducats, once; five-hundred Dubrovnik’s ducats twice; Five-hundred Dubrovnik’s ducats three times; does anyone want to offer more.
No one matched Lord Emanuel’s offer.
“Let it be recorded that the female slave is sold to Lord Emanuel for five hundred Dubrovnik’s ducats,” the auctioneer said nodding to Mario.
The slave trader pushed the girl forward. Her new master gazed at her naked body under his half-closed eyes, impersonally. Her long legs, with a dark triangle between them and her flat tummy with a perfect bellybutton, and especially, her slightly undulating breasts, standing firm with raised nipples, almost unsettled him. Her beautifully rounded shoulders and long neck carried her head with a good deal of dignity. He became equally impressed with the poise she exuded as she carried herself. Her face was oval with unusual, almond-shaped hazel colored eyes; her dark, brown hair fell in luxurious waves down both sides of her shoulders, partially to cover her inviting breasts.
Their eyes met and held as she was slowly dragging her steps towards him with more poise than if she were a princess from some exotic palace.
Her expression did not betray her inner turmoil; she was thinking frantically, which is worse, to belong to an old tootles man in marriage, or to be a slave to this dark master. She stood right in front of him, still holding his gaze as if challenging his actions that followed. She expected some crude remark, ‘isn’t that how slave masters behaved?’ He surprised her. Before he took his jacket off and covered her naked body with it, he took his hat off and bowed deeply in front of her. “Hang in there; this is not going to last long,” he said in a low voice.
She waited in a mute stupor. The man in the black suit purchased ten strong young male slaves. They departed immediately. One of the master’s men was walking in front of the slaves. The other two walked one on each side of the male slaves. A little distance away behind them; the master walked with Zlatomirka at his side.
Before she boarded his ship, Zlatomirka stopped to look at him with an unspoken question in her eyes.
“We are going across the Adriatic Sea to Bari. I have an olive orchard there. Zlatomirka boarded without uttering a word. She refused the help of his extended hand. Shortly after, they heard the call for the oars to begin rowing.
***
They arrived at his plantation house shortly before sunset. It looked huge to Zlatomirka—but not ominous. There was some unexplained character to this house—her future prison.
A young girl, with a light chocolate complexion, Dressed not as a slave, ran out and greeted them with eager enthusiasm. “How many did you bring home this time, Master.”
“You can count; you tell me," he said with an affectionate smile. "How are things around here Annabel?”
“Everything is in order, Master”
"Then take this," he turned to the girl and stopped himself to ask, “What is your name, by the
way?”
“My name is Zlatomirka, Master.”
He turned to Annabel saying, "Help Zlatomirka with a bath. Let her chose one of the dresses hanging in the armoire in the guest room. Bring her down to dinner after you are done."
As if she had seen her master bring many naked women home before, Annabel simply said softly,“Please,
come with me.”
After throwing him an unfathomable look, Zlatomirka followed the slave girl.
Annabel hurried, Zlatomirka who was dragging her steps up the stairs. “Let’s hurry; my master doesn’t have much patience for waiting.” Zlatomirka detected too much of a possessiveness in Annabel’s voice when she said my master. 'Could this young and beautiful slave girl be his lover?'
They entered the most luxurious bathroom with a deep wooden bath tub; Zlatomirka could have never imagined anything like that.
While Annabel was arranging for water to be brought to fill the tub, Zlatomirka sat on a little stool placed in front a huge bathroom mirror. Annabel nudged her to enter the bathtub. As her body submerged in the warm water,
Zlatomirka inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. Annabel left her to soak her weary body for a while and went to roam for a dress from armoire in the guest room.
When she helped Zlatomirka wash, Annabel dried her hair and let it hang down her shoulders to dry. They went into the guest bedroom. Annabel began showing her different kinds of dresses, asking her to choose one she liked the best. Zlatomirka remained passive, looking indifferently at the dresses the slave girl showed her.
“Hurry, Miss, my master doesn’t like to wait; if he has to wait, he tends to work up furious anger.”
“Please Annabel leave me alone, I need a minute or two to settle myself. I will join master in a little while.
“Just come downstairs as soon you are ready. This house is huge, but if you turn right when you come down the stairs, you cannot miss dining room.
***
When she didn’t come down within half hour, Lord Emanuel threw his napkin on the table and ran up the stairs, taking two steps at the time.
He opened the door quietly and stood there, watching her with fascination. She was in deep thought, sitting on the bed still wrapped in the big fluffy bath towel. ‘She looks like a Madonna,” he thought.
She sensed his presence and looked up somewhat defiantly.
“I invited you to join me for dinner. How come you are not dressed and why didn’t you come downstairs as you promised Annabel?”
“No, Master, you did not invite me to dinner; you ordered me through your slave girl.”
“First of all, in this house Annabel is more, much, much more than, just my slave. She deserves lots of respect, and you better remember how you talk about her or to her.”
“Well if she means that much to you, why don’t you go and have dinner with Annabel and leave me alone?” The petulant way in which she expressed herself pulled him towards her like magnet. He got hold of her unresisting arm and stated, all the while looking her straight in the eyes.
“Not that I have to explain this to you, but Annabel means a lot to me. She is someone very important to me and to this household. Besides she is taking such good care of me—simply she is irreplaceable. Now, get up; get dressed; we are going down to dinner together.”
“She pulled her arm forcefully from his tight grip and, in the process; she lost the upper part of her towel. One of her ripe breasts slipped out. That unintentional provocation drove him almost to madness. “Oh, yes, you are going to come down to dinner with me if I have to carry
you downstairs, like that, half naked.”
“Even you wouldn’t dare to do that.”
“Wouldn’t I, now? He grabbed her under her arms and was pulling her up into a standing position. She was strong and was adamantly pushing against his chest. His foot slipped on the silken rug. He used her as leverage and placed his other knee on the bed beside her fast before he slipped on the floor. His weight pushed her down; he lost balance and he fell on top of her.
He felt half crazed and, before his sanity returned, he pressed her down and kissed her thoroughly. As a matter of fact, she returned his kiss. For him there was no going back, she seemed to be eager and seemed to know how to do all the right things to arouse a man, not that he needed much help in that way.
After a bit of an interlude, he parted her thighs and entered her somewhat roughly. He stopped for a moment, and moaned in frustration. But she was so eager that he couldn’t do anything but continue. This was the first for her, and yet when her time came, she made a violent scream; he followed shortly after with a powerful orgasm of his own.
He collapsed upon her body. ‘My God, what have I done? I swore that I would never emulate the ugly ways in which my father dealt with his slaves. Yet tonight, I behaved worse than what my accursed father would have ever done.
He then leaned his elbows into the bed on each side of her head looking at her first, with
bewilderment and then with ferocity that surprised even him. He grabbed a handful of her luscious hair that felt like silk in his trembling fingers. He didn’t plan to touch her, nor did she look repugnantly upon what had been inevitable to come. She challenged him, and made fun of him until he got so angry with his own frustration and his need to posses her so, he couldn’t stop himself. She was so beautiful; he couldn’t stop desiring her from the first moment he saw her half naked at the slave market.
He asked through tightly clenched teeth, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She had difficulty catching up with her breath. Finally she answered, “You asked why I didn’t tell you? That was because I wouldn’t like to leave my debts unpaid, Master. You paid handsomely for me. Who knows what kind of an old and ugly master would have paid to have me if you didn’t offer to do me such an honor,” she said sarcastically. At least you are young and handsome, or perhaps, I wanted to find out how it felt to be possessed by a tall, young and handsome man, for at least once; even if he was my master. The future is not known to me. What’s more, I will have memory of this enjoyment to sustain me when some ugly, old pervert gets me next time. Yet, they let you off the hook easily. You should have seen how much the ugly old man paid for my hand in marriage initially. But I snuck out in the night and ran away; that is how I ended in the slave trader's hands.
“Besides, I thought that you are entitled to claim what you paid for and for what is rightfully yours” she continued to jar him, “and know this, Master, I will find a way to run away from you too. When I do, I shouldn’t want to have any qualms about it. I want to repay my debt in advance, so enjoy what you have paid for while you can. When I leave I would like to know that I don’t owe you a thing. If you are up to it, we can do it again to make sure you got your money’s worth. He jumped off the bed, pushing her away in disgust. He felt as if she had burned him in some terrible way. “Look at you, so virginal and so banal at the same time; where did you learn to talk that way?“
Without waiting for her response, Lord Emanuel started pacing the room back and forth, running his long fingers through his dark hair.
After what seemed to be an eternity, he stopped in front of her naked body, which she didn’t have the will to cover. She was totally exhausted and overwhelmed by what had just happened.
He looked up and down her body impersonally, took a cover and threw it at her, ‘in disgust’she thought. Zlatomirka grabbed the cover fast and covered her shame.
“You are free to do one of two things. First, you are free to go in the morning. If you decide to take that choice, I will give you a certificate that will assure your freedom. I will ask my Anabel to provide you with some clothes and food so that you look decent and that you are not hungry on the street when you look for lodgings. I will also tell her to give you some money to carry you over for a few months until you find some other means to sustain you. Second, you can stay at my home for as long as you want, or until we find out if I have impregnated you tonight. I may not have, but there is a good possibility that it may have happened. You don’t have to be afraid. I will not touch you again. The choice is yours,” he said and left the room without looking back.
She didn’t recognize any of them, nor did anyone pay much attention to her all night. She just walked alongside this young woman who was carrying a sleeping child in her arms. The only thing that penetrated her numb mind was an occasional sound of a whip that one of the slave traders flicked expertly above their heads. Afraid to leave a mark on their skin, he didn’t dare let the whip fall on their backs. A marred skin on the slave pointed to laziness and disobedience. Those kinds of slaves brought less revenue. That kind of punishment he would leave to their future
masters.
They reached Dubrovnik at dawn. The echoing sound from their wooden shoes on the cobble stones brought Zlatomirka out of her stupor. She looked around her. Although she was aware of her presence, Zlatomirka for the first time really noticed the woman with the child in her arms. She said in a whisper, “I am so confused. Can you please tell me where we are?” She asked. We are in Dubrovnik. These men have purchased us and are taking us to the slave market to sell us again. But what are you doing among us? You look as if you had just escaped something terrible because it looks like you run away still dressed in your night gown.
Zlatomirka looked down her body and tried to cover herself with her hands. The events from the day before started flooding her tormented mind. “Yes, I ran away from something that was worse than death.” She tried to
move close to the edge of the street, intending to escape through the next street on the left hand side. The woman cautioned her not to do so. The slave traders will not let you leave. I heard them betting how much money
they would get for you at the slave market.
“But I am not a slave. I ran away from home, but I am not a slave, I tell you.” She closed her mouth as one of the two slave traders stepped beside her. He was leisurely hitting the palm of his hand with the whip he was carrying.
Once they were at the entrance of the slave market someone opened the door into a large courtyard with
a beautiful Persian rug in the middle of it and; they herded them inside–not unlike the cattle.
The slaves were told to move back and forth for a few minutes, so that the slave masters were able to assess their physical appearance, then the owner of the slave market ordered them all out of the courtyard.
When someone closed the door behind them, a dark handsome man in a black suit, white shirt and black hat, ordered, “Bring the best and the fittest ones in first. I don’t have all day. I have to load my ship and depart from the docks before noon.
“Yes Lord Emanuel; it will b e as you requested,” the owner of the slave market said.
The door opened and someone pushed Zlatomirka in so forcefully that she landed on one of her knees. She pulled lots of air into her lungs and expelled it before she stood up. She stopped for a moment to inhale deeply again, and then lifted her head high and walked to the centre of a beautiful Persian rug to which someone pointed. Mario, one of the slave-traders that had been walking beside her on the street, started pointing to her beauty and how much the original purchase of her had cost them. So would you, gentlemen, please, take your time and look at her closely.” He came from behind and pulled the string that held her long wavy hair. “Who is going to begin bidding, first?”
“I will pay fifteen Dubrovnik’s ducats,” one fellow said. Zlatomirka looked straight ahead. “Thirty five,” another one hurried to say.”
“Come on, gentlemen,” Mario said what are you waiting for? She is young and beautiful. Look at her face and her beautiful hair.” “I am good for seventy-five ducats,” someone else shouted out.Mario looked at them. They were devouring the girl with their lustful eyes. He was getting excited himself. He came in front of Zlatomirka, grabbed at her night-gown, right at her throat, and ripped it all the way down. He took it off of her body in one single move. The only noticeable expression on her face was a momentary dark shadow which passed over her face. But she didn’t move; she just lifted her head in a more dignified way.
Mario exclaimed, “Come on, gentlemen, do I have to put my hand between her legs, to see if she is tight enough and moist enough for you.” “Yes, do, few of them shouted. We would like to watch you do it.”
“Five hundred Dubrovnik’s ducats, said the voice one the right hand side of her in a somewhat tiresome tone of voice. Zlatomirka’s skin turned into goose bumps. She didn’t turn her head, but her eyes involuntarily flew towards the place from which the sound of his voice came. It was a man in black suit and black hat who offered so much money for her. Nobody said anything; they all looked openmouthed as Lord Emanuel took the satisfaction of bidding for her from them.
“Five-hundred Dubrovnik’s ducats, once; five-hundred Dubrovnik’s ducats twice; Five-hundred Dubrovnik’s ducats three times; does anyone want to offer more.
No one matched Lord Emanuel’s offer.
“Let it be recorded that the female slave is sold to Lord Emanuel for five hundred Dubrovnik’s ducats,” the auctioneer said nodding to Mario.
The slave trader pushed the girl forward. Her new master gazed at her naked body under his half-closed eyes, impersonally. Her long legs, with a dark triangle between them and her flat tummy with a perfect bellybutton, and especially, her slightly undulating breasts, standing firm with raised nipples, almost unsettled him. Her beautifully rounded shoulders and long neck carried her head with a good deal of dignity. He became equally impressed with the poise she exuded as she carried herself. Her face was oval with unusual, almond-shaped hazel colored eyes; her dark, brown hair fell in luxurious waves down both sides of her shoulders, partially to cover her inviting breasts.
Their eyes met and held as she was slowly dragging her steps towards him with more poise than if she were a princess from some exotic palace.
Her expression did not betray her inner turmoil; she was thinking frantically, which is worse, to belong to an old tootles man in marriage, or to be a slave to this dark master. She stood right in front of him, still holding his gaze as if challenging his actions that followed. She expected some crude remark, ‘isn’t that how slave masters behaved?’ He surprised her. Before he took his jacket off and covered her naked body with it, he took his hat off and bowed deeply in front of her. “Hang in there; this is not going to last long,” he said in a low voice.
She waited in a mute stupor. The man in the black suit purchased ten strong young male slaves. They departed immediately. One of the master’s men was walking in front of the slaves. The other two walked one on each side of the male slaves. A little distance away behind them; the master walked with Zlatomirka at his side.
Before she boarded his ship, Zlatomirka stopped to look at him with an unspoken question in her eyes.
“We are going across the Adriatic Sea to Bari. I have an olive orchard there. Zlatomirka boarded without uttering a word. She refused the help of his extended hand. Shortly after, they heard the call for the oars to begin rowing.
***
They arrived at his plantation house shortly before sunset. It looked huge to Zlatomirka—but not ominous. There was some unexplained character to this house—her future prison.
A young girl, with a light chocolate complexion, Dressed not as a slave, ran out and greeted them with eager enthusiasm. “How many did you bring home this time, Master.”
“You can count; you tell me," he said with an affectionate smile. "How are things around here Annabel?”
“Everything is in order, Master”
"Then take this," he turned to the girl and stopped himself to ask, “What is your name, by the
way?”
“My name is Zlatomirka, Master.”
He turned to Annabel saying, "Help Zlatomirka with a bath. Let her chose one of the dresses hanging in the armoire in the guest room. Bring her down to dinner after you are done."
As if she had seen her master bring many naked women home before, Annabel simply said softly,“Please,
come with me.”
After throwing him an unfathomable look, Zlatomirka followed the slave girl.
Annabel hurried, Zlatomirka who was dragging her steps up the stairs. “Let’s hurry; my master doesn’t have much patience for waiting.” Zlatomirka detected too much of a possessiveness in Annabel’s voice when she said my master. 'Could this young and beautiful slave girl be his lover?'
They entered the most luxurious bathroom with a deep wooden bath tub; Zlatomirka could have never imagined anything like that.
While Annabel was arranging for water to be brought to fill the tub, Zlatomirka sat on a little stool placed in front a huge bathroom mirror. Annabel nudged her to enter the bathtub. As her body submerged in the warm water,
Zlatomirka inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. Annabel left her to soak her weary body for a while and went to roam for a dress from armoire in the guest room.
When she helped Zlatomirka wash, Annabel dried her hair and let it hang down her shoulders to dry. They went into the guest bedroom. Annabel began showing her different kinds of dresses, asking her to choose one she liked the best. Zlatomirka remained passive, looking indifferently at the dresses the slave girl showed her.
“Hurry, Miss, my master doesn’t like to wait; if he has to wait, he tends to work up furious anger.”
“Please Annabel leave me alone, I need a minute or two to settle myself. I will join master in a little while.
“Just come downstairs as soon you are ready. This house is huge, but if you turn right when you come down the stairs, you cannot miss dining room.
***
When she didn’t come down within half hour, Lord Emanuel threw his napkin on the table and ran up the stairs, taking two steps at the time.
He opened the door quietly and stood there, watching her with fascination. She was in deep thought, sitting on the bed still wrapped in the big fluffy bath towel. ‘She looks like a Madonna,” he thought.
She sensed his presence and looked up somewhat defiantly.
“I invited you to join me for dinner. How come you are not dressed and why didn’t you come downstairs as you promised Annabel?”
“No, Master, you did not invite me to dinner; you ordered me through your slave girl.”
“First of all, in this house Annabel is more, much, much more than, just my slave. She deserves lots of respect, and you better remember how you talk about her or to her.”
“Well if she means that much to you, why don’t you go and have dinner with Annabel and leave me alone?” The petulant way in which she expressed herself pulled him towards her like magnet. He got hold of her unresisting arm and stated, all the while looking her straight in the eyes.
“Not that I have to explain this to you, but Annabel means a lot to me. She is someone very important to me and to this household. Besides she is taking such good care of me—simply she is irreplaceable. Now, get up; get dressed; we are going down to dinner together.”
“She pulled her arm forcefully from his tight grip and, in the process; she lost the upper part of her towel. One of her ripe breasts slipped out. That unintentional provocation drove him almost to madness. “Oh, yes, you are going to come down to dinner with me if I have to carry
you downstairs, like that, half naked.”
“Even you wouldn’t dare to do that.”
“Wouldn’t I, now? He grabbed her under her arms and was pulling her up into a standing position. She was strong and was adamantly pushing against his chest. His foot slipped on the silken rug. He used her as leverage and placed his other knee on the bed beside her fast before he slipped on the floor. His weight pushed her down; he lost balance and he fell on top of her.
He felt half crazed and, before his sanity returned, he pressed her down and kissed her thoroughly. As a matter of fact, she returned his kiss. For him there was no going back, she seemed to be eager and seemed to know how to do all the right things to arouse a man, not that he needed much help in that way.
After a bit of an interlude, he parted her thighs and entered her somewhat roughly. He stopped for a moment, and moaned in frustration. But she was so eager that he couldn’t do anything but continue. This was the first for her, and yet when her time came, she made a violent scream; he followed shortly after with a powerful orgasm of his own.
He collapsed upon her body. ‘My God, what have I done? I swore that I would never emulate the ugly ways in which my father dealt with his slaves. Yet tonight, I behaved worse than what my accursed father would have ever done.
He then leaned his elbows into the bed on each side of her head looking at her first, with
bewilderment and then with ferocity that surprised even him. He grabbed a handful of her luscious hair that felt like silk in his trembling fingers. He didn’t plan to touch her, nor did she look repugnantly upon what had been inevitable to come. She challenged him, and made fun of him until he got so angry with his own frustration and his need to posses her so, he couldn’t stop himself. She was so beautiful; he couldn’t stop desiring her from the first moment he saw her half naked at the slave market.
He asked through tightly clenched teeth, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She had difficulty catching up with her breath. Finally she answered, “You asked why I didn’t tell you? That was because I wouldn’t like to leave my debts unpaid, Master. You paid handsomely for me. Who knows what kind of an old and ugly master would have paid to have me if you didn’t offer to do me such an honor,” she said sarcastically. At least you are young and handsome, or perhaps, I wanted to find out how it felt to be possessed by a tall, young and handsome man, for at least once; even if he was my master. The future is not known to me. What’s more, I will have memory of this enjoyment to sustain me when some ugly, old pervert gets me next time. Yet, they let you off the hook easily. You should have seen how much the ugly old man paid for my hand in marriage initially. But I snuck out in the night and ran away; that is how I ended in the slave trader's hands.
“Besides, I thought that you are entitled to claim what you paid for and for what is rightfully yours” she continued to jar him, “and know this, Master, I will find a way to run away from you too. When I do, I shouldn’t want to have any qualms about it. I want to repay my debt in advance, so enjoy what you have paid for while you can. When I leave I would like to know that I don’t owe you a thing. If you are up to it, we can do it again to make sure you got your money’s worth. He jumped off the bed, pushing her away in disgust. He felt as if she had burned him in some terrible way. “Look at you, so virginal and so banal at the same time; where did you learn to talk that way?“
Without waiting for her response, Lord Emanuel started pacing the room back and forth, running his long fingers through his dark hair.
After what seemed to be an eternity, he stopped in front of her naked body, which she didn’t have the will to cover. She was totally exhausted and overwhelmed by what had just happened.
He looked up and down her body impersonally, took a cover and threw it at her, ‘in disgust’she thought. Zlatomirka grabbed the cover fast and covered her shame.
“You are free to do one of two things. First, you are free to go in the morning. If you decide to take that choice, I will give you a certificate that will assure your freedom. I will ask my Anabel to provide you with some clothes and food so that you look decent and that you are not hungry on the street when you look for lodgings. I will also tell her to give you some money to carry you over for a few months until you find some other means to sustain you. Second, you can stay at my home for as long as you want, or until we find out if I have impregnated you tonight. I may not have, but there is a good possibility that it may have happened. You don’t have to be afraid. I will not touch you again. The choice is yours,” he said and left the room without looking back.
The Sins of Her Father
***Non Fiction***
Folk Stories and their Singers
In Serbian Oral Poetry, there is a fundamental system, with which the poet must come to terms. That is, there are three broad systems of honor: patriarchal honor, concerning the values within the family; patriotic honor, concerning the values of the nation, as one system of authority and identity; and religious honor, concerning the spiritual soul of the Serbian people.
The focus of this work has three aims: First, it will demonstrate how an oral poet compares the three systems of honor. Second, it will further demonstrate how he puts them in conflict, and how he looks for ways to find a resolution between them. The third aim is to prove that the concepts of honor, the tensions between them and the way in which the resolutions are expressed in the Serbian oral tradition, remain constant in the written epic creations of the twentieth century.
The focus of this work has three aims: First, it will demonstrate how an oral poet compares the three systems of honor. Second, it will further demonstrate how he puts them in conflict, and how he looks for ways to find a resolution between them. The third aim is to prove that the concepts of honor, the tensions between them and the way in which the resolutions are expressed in the Serbian oral tradition, remain constant in the written epic creations of the twentieth century.