Mistress of the Air Ch. 29

The journey from the site of the crash to the Ottoman Empire was a long one. The captain maintained a high altitude to keep them safe from the clutches of any Russian Empire airships, except Lady Sally insisted on flying low over Kiev to appreciate the glittering, gold domes of its many churches.

When she wasn't entertaining herself with her slaves, she often stood at the great glass window in her playroom gazing at the clouds as they flew past below her, or admiring the scenery from afar as the patchwork fields and villages sped by.

They passed over the Crimea and then turned south-west across the Black Sea, heading towards Istanbul. They covered the final stretch in the early hours of the morning, and Lady Sally got up at dawn, taking up a place at the front of the gondola to gaze upon the sun rising, and the approaching minarets of Istanbul.

She sighed, wrapping her silk dressing gown around her, whilst still allowing for a peek of cleavage, "This is a magnificent view is it not?"

The captain's eyes could not fail to stray to Lady Sally's breasts, "It certainly is," he agreed.

As the airship slowed to make her descent, they both admired the sun dancing on the blue waters of the Black Sea, and the view of the isthmus on which the exotic city of Istanbul perched.

Although the Ottoman Empire had experienced grander days and was past its peak, it was still the point where eastern and western trading routes met. It required careful manoeuvring because, as well as being a busy airship station, it was a chaotic one. The captain weaved the giant dirigible through the traffic of airships from across Europe and the Far East to seek out an empty mooring mast with enough space to accommodate the vast bulk of The Corseted Domme.

He saw from the cockpit how Lady Sally's airship was causing a stir. He flew low and watched the awe struck looks and excited waves as the giant, silver dirigible circled around the airship station looking for a berth. Lady Sally, who had retired to get dressed ready for her shopping expedition, would have been pleased to see the furore her airship was creating. Eventually, he found a suitable mooring mast, and the rigger-men hooked up the lines from the tip of the airship to pull her in. After the enforced landing in the Russian Steppes it was good to have her secured to a proper mast. The captain was relieved to find hydrogen filling stations so the air bags could be refilled.

The people of Istanbul had never seen an airship as huge and magnificent as The Corseted Domme. A crowd gathered at the foot of the mooring mast to find out who owned this most magnificent of dirigibles. There were men in turbans, women with their heads covered in silk scarves, and bare-foot children. By the time the party were ready to disembark, an impromptu market had formed around the airship, the merchants not wishing to miss an opportunity to sell their wares.

When Lady Sally emerged, she was the perfect image of the calm, implacable, Edwardian gentlewoman in the midst of the scene of chaos that now surrounded the airship. As soon as they stepped out of mooring tower they were greeted with a blast of heat. Of course, Lady Sally was prepared, having insisted on taking most of her wardrobe, including her summer dresses. She was in an elegant, cotton dress in cream, which displayed her hour-glass figure to perfection. Perched on her head was a wide-brimmed hat secured by a wide bow of material tied under her chin.

Victoria, sweltering in her maid's dress, huge bustle and layers of petticoats followed with a large fan to cool her mistress down. The captain who had brought no wardrobe with him whatsoever was in his working clothes, his normal white roll neck jumper and flying boots. Luckily, his wide-brimmed fedora hat shielded his face from the sun, but he still looked distinctly uncomfortable in the scorching heat.

A crowd gathered around the party, and they were welcomed with cheers and waves. The children were as excited as those back in Yorkshire who greeted the launch of The Corseted Domme. They were familiar with airships but had never seen anything as grand as this.

At first Lady Sally felt pleased at the welcome she received, but as the crowd bustled around her, she soon changed her mind.

A kebab was thrust in her face, "Lady... you want kebab. Good kebab. Good price..."

A hand covered in jewellery waved in front of her, "Lady... you want bangle. Finest silver. Two for one, good price."

Offers of food and goods were tolerable though barely; other offers were definitely not.

"Lady... you want man, give you good fucky. Come with me. Good price."

"Lady... you want fanny sucky. I take you. How much you offer for good fanny sucky."

The attention soon became wearisome, and Lady Sally was relieved to be approached by Mustafa Shagazade's man with a steam-driven carriage to transport them to the Grand Bazaar. There was a full entourage as the men, dressed in smart linen suits, were required to help carry Lady Sally's shopping. The carriage was laden with several trunks, for the safe packing of said shopping. The captain, melting in his roll neck jumper, was extremely envious of the cool suits. He wanted to stay behind and supervise the filling of the hydrogen bags, but Lady Sally insisted all available hands were needed for the shopping expedition.

They were dropped off at the merchant's offices off Sultanahanet Square in the heart of the old city. This was Lady Sally's first visit to Istanbul, and she was thrilled to be there. She had travelled to Samarkand before, to seek out a special weave of silk with aphrodisiac properties she had read about in the third Earl of Rudston's journal, and to discover more about her silk route heritage. She loved the exoticism and sensuality of the east.

Mustafa Shagazade was a portly middle-aged gentleman with a black moustache that curled up at its ends, dressed in a turban and light blue kaftan

"Ah, Mr Mustafa, how delightful to meet you after all these years. I trust business is good."

"Lady Sally, it's a pleasure," he enthused, whilst lasciviously eyeing up her perfect figure and abundant décolletage bursting out of the cotton dress. "But I'm afraid to say business is only average. There is less trade going across land along the silk route, and more being transported by airship. There's now an airship route direct from Ishfahan to Berlin, bypassing Istanbul. And then there's been the Balkan Wars, and the threat of new wars..."

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry to hear that," offered Lady Sally.

"I know you are here for the shopping, so let me be your guide around the bazaar. But first you must join me in a glass of mint tea."

"That would be delightful, Mr Mustafa," replied Lady Sally with alacrity. It may not be China or Indian tea, but it was still tea, and mint tea was exceedingly refreshing. At least he was well enough acquainted with her tastes not to offer her Turkish coffee, which would have been simply vile.

The party settled onto the divans outside the merchant's trading emporium. They were served glasses of mint tea from a huge silver pot and accompanied by sugared almonds. They reclined on the seats to sip the sweet liquid.

"Please, Lady Sally, before we go into the bazaar, let me offer you a delicacy of the region."

A servant brought out a brass bowl containing an unappealing ball of meat swimming in a thin, white fluid. Lady Sally did not wish to offend her generous host by declining it, but had no intention of sampling it.

"Oh, but my maid tastes my food for me. You see, I'm afraid I have such a delicate stomach, and she will judge if it's too rich for me.",

Victoria looked on horrified at the brown lump of gristly meat in the dish but, nonetheless, obediently took a mouthful. Lady Sally smiled wickedly as she saw her maid's expression.

"May I ask what the dish is made of?" she enquired.

"Why yes, Lady Sally, it's horse testicle braised in ewe's milk infused with cardamom pods. It's a speciality of the region."

"Oh my, but that sounds simply delightful, Mr Mustafa. I'm just so sorry my delicate English stomach will not allow me to partake of any. You must jot the recipe down for me and I'll give it to cook."

The captain chuckled. He could imagine cook's reaction to such a recipe, and she might just have the nerve to tell Lady Sally where to shove her horse's testicle!

The entourage headed for The Grand Bazaar with the four gentlemen, Victoria and the captain carrying three huge chests between them, brought on her travels specifically for this purpose.

The Grand Bazaar was a huge covered market of massive colonnades with a network of smaller passages leading from them. The captain, for one, was relieved to get under cover out of the searing heat of the sun. The market was jammed full of crafts and antiques of every description.

"Now, Mr Mustafa, I am minded to build a Turkish bath in one of the ante rooms in Rudston Hall. I've already sourced a company that can supply the heating system back in England, but what I require are authentic Turkish majolica tiles."

"I know just the stall for you."

She pulled out a piece of paper with a sketch showing the dimensions of the room in question. After a brief discussion with the stallholder about the number of tiles required, she set about choosing from the abundant range of beautifully glazed blue, green, turquoise, yellow and white tiles with geometric patterns in the Islamic style. Having made her choice and negotiated a good deal on such a huge quantity, she paid and instructed the trader to have the tiles delivered direct to The Corseted Domme forthwith. The men let out a collective sigh of relief at this point as they had visions of having to cart thousands of heavy tiles back to the airship themselves.

Lady Sally was an organised and ruthless shopper. She had a vision for what she needed and set about her purchases with determination. She was also a tough negotiator and bartered hard with the traders to get a good, and fair, price. This was, of course, only what they would have expected, but if they thought this rich, aristocratic English woman was going to be a soft touch, that illusion was soon dispelled. Lady Sally used a combination of hard bargaining skills, along with her undoubted charm, to secure a good price.

They went from block to block in the bazaar, each zone specialising in a particular craft. She wanted hand-woven Turkish rugs and bought several of them, with brightly coloured geometric patterns. She purchased ceramics, copper bowls, hukkah pipes, silver tea pots, decorated glasses and lamps. That was before she even got to the section selling materials and clothing where she bought silks, cottons, kaftans, gowns, silk slippers and an abundant supply of silver jewellery. Then there were the spices and incenses, and last, but not least the teas. There were stalls selling a vast range of teas, many blends she was familiar with, but she also purchased pomegranate and jasmine teas, which she'd never tried before.

The chests filled up quickly, and it wasn't long before the six men found themselves carting the laden trunks around the bazaar with them. Lady Sally shopped like a whirling dervish, and it wasn't until it was time for tea that she finally stopped.

They retired to a tea shop recommended by Mr Mustafa. Lady Sally was sipping green tea whilst inhaling enormous drafts of smoke from a huge hukkah pipe. She was in a good mood... an exceedingly good mood.

She was giggling manically and telling them tales of her colourful past.

"Did I tell you about the time in Samarkand when I got fucked on the tomb of Tamerlane the Magnificent by my silk merchant?" she announced, proceeding to relate the story in graphic detail.

Then she told them about her poison garden at Rudston Hall, and how she'd fucked her gardener, and about how she punished Lord Melchiot on her automaton horse.

She was in fits of giggles.

"Oh, I've had such marvellous adventures." She turned to the merchant, "So tell me, Mr Mustafa, is this what is called 'hashish'?"

"Yes, Lady Sally, the very finest... and potent."

"Well, I must say, this is wonderful stuff. My last purchase will be to stock up with some to take back to England."

By now the whole party was well and truly stoned, except for Victoria, who had a 'gippy' stomach from the horse's testicle, and had declined the offer of smoking hashish. In between reclining on the divans collapsed in a constant state of giggles, they managed to demolish a huge plate of flatbreads, lamb kebabs, chickpea dip, dates and other delicacies.

A young, veiled woman approached them.

"Come here, my dear," called Lady Sally. "What a lovely necklace. It's so shiny. Oh, my goodness, I've never seen anything so shiny! I don't think my poor eyes can stand the brightness."

"Please, are you the famous English lady, Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester?"

Lady Sally was not averse to bit of flattery, "Oh, famous, well yes, naturally my reputation does proceed me."

"I've read about you in the Istanbul Sun. You are a strong lady who will stand up to males and protect women. I have come to plead for your help."

Victoria's ears pricked up. Alarm bells rang.

"Yes, do tell me more," Lady Sally encouraged.

"My name is Nisrahur. You see, my sister has been picked up from the streets by the sultan's guards where she has been taken to his harem as a slave. I know the girls are badly mistreated. I was hoping a lady of your standing could negotiate with the sultan to get her released."

"I will do better than that," exclaimed Lady Sally. "I will rescue her!"

Her maid tried to intervene, "Madam, is this wise? This could end up as a disaster. I see more explosions and being chased out of Istanbul."

"Victoria, let it not be said Lady Sally Rudston-Chichester will not leap to the defence of her sex for a noble cause."