32 SAMIRA WE LOVE YOU

Ambrose Henri's mind was on cloud nine from the excitement brought about by the exotic music, and seductive belly dance moves by 8 belly dancers. The one and half cups of wine coursing through his blood ignited his excitement to the next level.

His eyes stared lustfully at the belly dancers just a few inches away from him. He even forgot to close his mouth after exclaiming at the seductive choreographed dance moves.

It was too much for him. He could not control his excitement anymore, he started rocking in his seat left to right, tapping his feet on the hand-woven carpet to the rhythm of the music, all the while clapping loudly.

He felt it was all worth it in terms of money, time, and disobeying Knight Templar vows. So that he can come over to watch this belly dancing in person. His heart was contented yet yearning for more. How wished they could dance for the whole night. But the reality was bitter, he saw from their happy expressions that they were tired from all the vigorous dances and needed to take a break.

'Don't slow down my sweet angels. My enjoyment is just getting started. Give me more beautiful. We can do this the whole night.' Ambrose thought as he gazed at them wholeheartedly.

The tempo of the music started slowing down. The belly dancers danced backward as the curtain behind them parted to let them through.

"Jean, have you seen that? That's the beauty and charm of belly dancing. We indeed have many wonderful dances in Paris and Europe at large. But I tell you, belly dancing is, in its own league, my brother." Ambrose Henri told Jean Pierre.

Jean Pierre was still digesting what he had seen. He could only nod his head in agreement. What Ambrose had said made a lot of sense. Belly dancing was in a league of its own. For Jean Pierre, this was a form of female empowerment in a society where women were meant to have each of their decisions or actions performed under the approval of a male figure.

"A big round of applause to our belly dancers good gentlemen!" Darius shouted as he strode to the center of the stage which had been exited by the belly dancers.

"I enjoyed every moment of their belly dancing, did you?" He asked.

"WE DID ENJOY IT!" The audience shouted.

"Good, good. Now I know some of you have started feeling bad that these beautiful and special ladies have left you." Darius said while looking keenly at the audience as if he was reading their minds.

"WE WANT MORE!" Ambrose Henri shouted. Once he realized that this man Darius knew what they were feeling and thinking.

"More you shall get," Darius answered with a dazzling smile on his face.

This was the moment he loved the most in the course of the night. When these men were now intoxicated on belly dancing and were craving for more but the belly dancers left the stage to refresh and change. They could order drinks crazily as they waited for the next round of belly dancing. Besides the money charged at the entrance, the majority of their revenue came from selling drinks.

'Deniers, deniers come to daddy, am craving for you. O Allah, make it rain deniers tonight.' These thoughts ran through his mind when he heard the European man seated at the front table asking more.

"Good gentlemen. Can I tell you a secret?" Darius aroused the curiosity of the audience.

"YES." In unison, the men in the audience shouted.

"We have a special guest in our midst…" Darius paused in the midst of his speech putting everyone in suspense.

"By the way, don't forget. We have good wines, tea, and coffee available. Make your order with our attendants, am sure you have seen them moving around." He deviated from the main topic which had gripped the attention of the audience.

"Not forgetting, … I was saying. We have a special guest in our midst. The queen of belly dancing from Damascus."

"The talented and amazing Queen Samira!" Darius announced, eliciting cheers from some of the audience.

"From your reaction. I can see that some of you know about this special queen."

"Without wasting too much of your time, let's welcome the super amazing and talented Queen Samira," Darius concluded while walking away from the stage.

The music instrumentalists who had gone silent came back to life.

"Sayyid, over here." Jean Pierre called the attendant. He had discovered that his cup of wine had been emptied sometime back.

He did not need to look far to know what had happened to it. The look of excitement on the face of Ambrose Henri and the smell of wine coming from his breath was enough to tell him that he was the one who had drank it.

Sayyid walked over and asked, "what can I get you, good gentleman?"

"Sayyid, you can call me Jean. Forego the gentleman, that is too formal. Please get us two cups of Lebanese wine." Jean Pierre made his order.

"What about me?" Ambrose Henri asked when he saw that he was excluded.

Hearing this. Sayyid smiled to himself. 'These stingy Europeans are now loosening up. I hope they drink more than ten cups so that I can qualify for the weekly bonus. So far these are about four cups, two cups of Syrian wine & two cups of Lebanese wine.'

'If I can convince them to drink more than 6 cups. My bonus is acquired in one night.' He told himself.

Since, for every 10 cups of Lebanese wine, Sayyid stood to get a bonus of 5 copper deniers, and for every 10 cups of Syrian wine, he stood to get a bonus of 3 copper deniers. He was having their money, he had no worries about them failing to pay. His only worry is that they become too drunk quickly and end up drinking little.

Seeing the other gentleman called Ambrose Henri. He looked and smelt intoxicated already from the cheap Syrian wine.

'Should I dilute his wine, so that he does not get drunk quickly?' The thought cropped up in Sayyid's mind.

'But if am to be discovered, Darius will have me punished severely. I can not afford to lose this job. My family depends on it to survive. With the kind of influence Darius has, he can make it hard for me to find a job anywhere in Jerusalem.' Sayyid banished the earlier thought.

"Sayyid, you can go. Ambrose, from the cups I have ordered, one is for you." Jean Pierre cleared the air.

"Thank you, Jean. Am sorry I drank your wine earlier. Mine accidentally poured, and I was thirsty. Hope you understand." Ambrose Henri apologized seeing that Jean was thoughtful of him.

"No worries." Jean Pierre chooses not to dwell on his misdeed.

The curtain to the inner tent section opened to reveal a healthy middle-aged woman.

She was wearing a glittering dark green long skirt covering her toes, the skirt had an opening at the hip revealing one of her long and shapely thighs flowing downwards to her feet. Like the previous belly dancers, she also had on a matching short-sleeved wrap top covering only her adult-sized bosom. Revealing the oiled and chiseled stomach muscles with the navel tucked deep inside. Her hands were covering her face as she stood there, waiting for the music tempo to pick up.

"SAMIRA, SAMIRA, SAMIRA!" The audience shouted.

"SAMIRA, OUR QUEEN SAMIRA. WE LOVE YOU!" The shouting from the audience continued.

Happy to finally see the belly dancing queen grace the stage.

Sayyid brought over the ordered two cups of Lebanese wine. But neither Ambrose Henri nor Jean Pierre paid him any attention. Their eyes were glued to the new entrant Samira.

The music picked up. Samira lowered her hands to reveal her face. She moved forward in harmony with the music.

Each step of her bare feet on the floor was full of confidence, and style. From her charming square face with the irresistible brown almond eyes to painted rosy lips. She exuded confidence, style, and maturity.

Before she even fully started her belly dancing. The audience was fired up. Eyes glued on her body, not wanting to miss any step or motion of her hands,

Samira danced to the music as she drew closer to the audience seated at the front tables. She stood on one foot and began swaying her hands like a butterfly flying. Flapping her hands on her sides, twisting her chest and hips up and down.

She danced like this for close to a minute without stumbling over or even shaking from exerting all her body weight on one foot. A testament to her superb fitness. Her chiseled stomach muscles that flexed with each move she made, were not in vain.

Ambrose Henri could not take it anymore. He felt like he should hug her tightly. She was close to them. He could even smell her perfume. Today was his lucky day to be in the presence of such a talented and gorgeous woman. He could not do anything major to her but at least he could hug her to his heart's content.

Ambrose stood up from his seat and rushed over to bear hug Samira who was in the midst of her belly dancing.

Shock!

Samira was shocked to be hugged amid her belly dancing and so was the audience. The drummers and other instrumentalists ceased playing.

She almost fell over from the impact, of being forcefully hugged.

This was unexpected.