All the Sweet Tomorrows

Chapter 7

Algiers shimmered in the midday heat. The sun glared off the deep-blue waters of the harbor and reflected back onto the white, white buildings of the city. Skye's ship, Seagull, was anchored a short distance out in the harbor. Robbie had no intention of allowing Skye ashore until he had made absolutely certain that Jamil was not in the city.

"You're an old woman," she teased him as he climbed down the side of the ship into the small dinghy that would take him into the docks.

"Ye're damned right, I am!" he shot back, not one bit intimidated. "Do you want to spend the rest of your days in slavery to Jamil, lass?"

"I’d sooner be dead!"

"Then I’ll just be on my way to find Osman," Robbie said with a chuckle. "Besides, ye're getting too old to be running around in diaphanous trousers and beaded tops."

"Too old?!” She looked outraged. "I'm not yet-"

"Yes, you are!" he laughed. "Not that you look it, Skye lass. Be patient, and I’ll not be long."

She watched the small boat skitter across the waves and into the docks. Robbie would have no hard time finding Osman, for the famous astrologer had bought Khalid el Bey's house from Skye when she had fled Algiers over ten years ago. Robbie, who had been Khalid's business partner, was most familiar with the house. She could see it from here. Slowly she raised her eyes up to gaze on the house in which she had been so supremely happy. It stood elegant and proud atop a high hill overlooking the entire city. She wondered if the gardens were still as lovely. She would soon know.

When Bran Kelly had returned to Devon for Dame Cecily, Robbie had allowed the young captain to take his own ship, the Mermaid, for he wanted the cargo he had traded for in Ottoman Turkey brought back to England. Consequently, it was Seagull that had brought them to Algiers, and old Sean MacGuire who had captained her. Now the senior captain of the O'Malley fleet kept his mistress company as she paced anxiously up and down the deck of her ship.

"If he's to be found, ye'll find him," MacGuire said comfortingly.

She nodded, but said nothing.

After a while MacGuire, taking out his old pipe and putting it between his teeth, spoke again. "Niall Burke's a tough one, and that's for sure. I remember the cosh we gave him on the head to make him more manageable the morning after yer first marriage. If he had a headache he never said so."

"If he's here," Skye said slowly, "I keep wondering how he got from a deserted beach on Ireland's west coast to North Africa."

"Yer friend Osman is sure to know, m'lady Skye."

"Yes, Osman…" She stared off again across the harbor to the white building upon the hill.

Time. Time moved so slowly here in Algiers, she recalled. She hoped that Robbie would remember to hurry. The voyage from Beaumont de Jaspre had not been a long one, only a few days, but with each hour that had passed the last year had faded and her memories of Niall Burke become stronger. The how and why began to haunt her, and she grew more and more anxious to reach Algiers, to speak with Osman. Was it a hoax perpetrated by Jamil, or had Osman really sent for her?

"You'd better change out of those clothes if you intend to be ready when he gets back," MacGuire said after what seemed a very long while.

"There's time," she said, not even stopping her pacing.

"Nay, m'lady, there's no time. Look!" He pointed out toward the docks. "There's Sir Robert's boat now making its return trip."

"Holy Mother!" Skye ran to her cabin and, once inside, began with suddenly clumsy fingers to get out of her sea garb. If she really wanted to cause a stir all she needed to do was appear in the streets of Algiers unveiled and dressed as a sea captain. Opening the tiny trunk of clothes that Daisy had so carefully packed for her, she drew out an exquisite caftan of pale-mauve silk. The neckline was modestly high and embroidered in tiny purple glass beads that extended down from the round of the neck in a band two inches wide and six inches long. Such a band also ringed each of the wide sleeves. Sliding the caftan on, she then undid her long hair from the confining single braid in which she always dressed it when at sea. She brushed the dark mass free and fixed a band of mauve silk with the identical purple beading on her head to contain the hair and keep it from falling into her eyes.

Makeup! Skye scrambled through the trunk, and there it was: a small ebony box containing little ivory pots of color, each set carefully in its own niche, and several sable brushes. The inside lid of the box was mirrored so she might see what she was doing no matter where she was. Skillfully she outlined her eyes with blue kohl and darkened her lashes. Neither her lips nor her cheeks needed the addition of color, for Skye had always been a healthy woman.

Finished, she gazed into the mirror and her eyes widened in surprise, for staring back at her was a woman she thought she had left behind some ten years ago when she had escaped Algiers and the unwelcome advances of Capitan Jamil. It was uncanny, and not a little frightening, for the woman in the mirror did not look a day older than the nineteen-year-old girl she had been. True, her eyes were wiser, and her cheekbones etched more finely now, but other than that there was no change. Skye shivered, and then shaking off the feeling of déjà vu, she closed the makeup case with a snap, stood, replaced the ebony box in her trunk, and walked from the cabin.

Robbie's small boat had already reached the Seagull, and he had just climbed to the deck when she exited her cabin. Stunned, he stood looking at her for a long minute. Then he shook his head in wonder. "How is it possible?" he said, the rest of his thought unspoken.

"I had the same reaction," she answered him, and then, "You've seen Osman?"

"Aye, and his palanquin is awaiting you. We've permission to bring Seagull into the docks. She's been given a preferred berth. It seems that old Osman's reputation has grown mightily in these past years. Half of Algiers doesn't make a move without him, and the rumor is that the Dey doesn't get off his couch without Osman's advice."

"What did he tell you?" she begged anxiously.

''Nothing, Skye lass. It's you he wants to see."

It took a very short time to bring Seagull into her berth on the busy waterfront of Algiers. Here there were ships and goods from every part of the known world. The air was fragrant and the noise was incredible, with many voices speaking many languages in an unending cacophony. By the time Skye's vessel had been made secure she had added a black silk yashmak to her costume. This long black cloak covered her from her head to toe, and her identity was further hidden by the mauve silk veil that was attached to the hood of the yashmak, and drawn across her face. She was the proper Muslim woman, garbed for the street and for travel.

They were docked next to an Ottoman galley, and as the light wind blew Skye's veil aside to reveal her face for a moment there were whistles and ribald shouts from the men chained to the top tier of oars. Some of the words she understood, others she did not, but their meaning was clear. Her eyes clouded with distress, and she said with strong aversion in her voice, "God's nightshirt, I hate those damned galleys! To chain men to an oar rather than use the wind and the water by your own skill is disgusting. Find out if there are any English or Irishmen among them, MacGuire. They can sail home with us."

"What about Scots or Welsh?"

"Buy them," she said tersely. "I don't care from what part of our islands they come, I’ll not stand by and see them die in some sea battle, unable to escape because of their chains!"

Sean MacGuire nodded. "How long will you be gone?" he demanded.

"I don't know, but Robbie will be back to the ship as soon as we know anything. Give the men liberty in shifts, and tell them I want no trouble, nor do I want it known that I am in Algiers."

"There's not a man aboard who'd betray you, m'lady," Sean MacGuire said feelingly.

"Nonetheless you will remind them once again, MacGuire," Skye said sternly.

"Aye, O'Malley," he said quietly, and she knew he had gotten her point.

She nodded at him, her expression unreadable beneath her veil. Then she turned to debark. At the foot of the gangway a palanquin awaited, and as Skye stepped into it she felt as if she were stepping back in time, into a life that had ceased to exist for her with the death of her second husband, the fascinating Khalid el Bey. The vehicle was carved and gilded, and hung with silk curtains of azure blue, while inside it was upholstered in silken stripes of red and green and purple and gold, with pillows done in cloth of gold. She settled herself comfortably, and the draperies were drawn to hide the palanquin's occupant. Robbie was given a finely caparisoned horse to ride.

The palanquin was carried by eight slaves, all coal-black and dressed in baggy scarlet pantaloons. Their feet, the soles of which were toughened by their work, were bare as were their chests. They were not, however, oiled, as was fashionable for blacks, nor did they wear jeweled collars about their necks to advertise their owner's wealth.

As the procession left the docks and began to wend its way through the city, Skye was assailed by a thousand memories triggered by the sights she could just see through the gauzy draperies; by the sounds of the busy city; by the smells of the vendors' stalls. For a moment she lay back, and of all her experiences of this city the one she suddenly remembered was her return to Algiers from her wedding trip with Khalid. They had both been dressed all in white, and their sleek black hunting panthers, leashed but still impressive, had loped elegantly along by their sides. He had ridden his great white stallion, she a dainty golden mare with a long, white-blond mane and tail that he had given her. She sighed. How simple her life as his wife had been; but still she could not regret all the times since. Osman would have said that it was her fate.

Osman. She visualized in her mind this man who had turned her world so topsy-turvy with a simple message. He had not, as she remembered, been a tall man; rather, he had been of medium height and build; really quite unimpressive a person until you looked into his eyes, for Osman's eyes saw what other people did not see. They saw beyond the everyday and into the heart and soul. They saw beyond today, and even, she had always suspected, past tomorrow. They were strange and yet wonderful golden-brown eyes that had always shone kindly upon her. Looking at Osman's bald head and bland moon-round face, few realized the power bebind those eyes. Khalid had seen it, and had always been the astrologer's friend.

When she and Khalid had been married he had given each of the six men he had invited as wedding guests a slave girl. She remembered how she and Khalid had chosen each of the six girls to suit the personality of a guest. She had chosen for Osman a lovely dark-blond girl of French extraction named Alima. The astrologer had shortly afterward made Alima his wife, and she knew that they now had several children. It pleased her to think that Osman and Alima were happy, and they must be, for he had taken no other wives, and had no harem of concubines.

Suddenly the palanquin was set down, the draperies drawn aside, and a hand extended to aid her in getting out; and as the hand drew her up she looked into the smiling face of Osman the astrologer.

"Welcome, my daughter," he said, and looking into his eyes at that moment, she knew that her quest was not a vain one.

"Osman," she began, but he put his hand up to stop her.

"I know you are anxious, Skye, my daughter, but first I would settle you. A few more minutes will not matter now that you are here." He turned to Robbie, who had dismounted his horse. "Welcome again, Captain. It does my heart good to see you here." Then Osman led them both into his house, the house in which she had lived with Khalid.

Skye let her eyes dart about the square entry hall, and it all looked the same as the night she had left it. For a brief second she expected to see Khalid come through from the gardens, his white robes swirling about his tall figure. She walked through the entry into the beautiful gardens beyond, and stood looking, feeling the tears fill her blue eyes, dimming her vision momentarily before spilling down her cheeks. The orange and lemon trees were larger, fuller; the pines taller. The T-shaped pool with its spraying fountains and border of roses was as lovely as ever. On one of the white marble benches near the house a woman sat surrounded by several children. Seeing Skye, she rose and came toward her.

"My lady Skye? Is it truly you?" Alima, the wife of Osman, stood before her. Seeing Skye's tears, Alima put her arms about her mentor. "It has been as happy a house for Osman and me as it was for you and the lord Khalid. It is a good place, and I gladly welcome you back to it."

The sudden sadness passed, and Skye drew away from Alima, saying, "When I learned I must return to Algiers I knew the first moments would be hard. It is over now, Alima, and I thank you for your gracious welcome."

"Let me show you to the rooms I have set aside for you. They overlook this garden, for I know how much you loved it." With quiet assurance Alima led Skye back into the house and upstairs to two lovely airy rooms in a different wing of the house than she had lived in with Khalid. Already two silent slave girls were unpacking her small trunk. A third hurried forward bearing a silver basin filled with rosewater for the lady to wash away the dust of her travel. When Skye had done so Alima led her back downstairs into Osman's library, where the astrologer and Robbie waited for her. Having brought Skye to her husband, Alima quietly departed.

Skye knew that Osman expected her to remain calm, and so she seated herself upon the floor cushions and patiently accepted a tiny cup of boiling Turkish coffee before looking expectantly toward him.

The astrologer looked back calmly, his powerful gaze instilling in her a strange sense of peace. Then he began to speak. "In the city of Fez I have two nephews, the sons of my late sister, Lilitu, who was the wife of a vastly wealthy merchant. The elder of my nephews is named Kedar, and he inherited his father's wealth and business when my brother-in-law, Omar, died. Kedar was a man grown when my sister bore her younger son. His name is Hamal, and my sister died giving birth to the boy. Omar had recently been killed when a spirited new horse had thrown him and broken his neck. He had not, however, changed his will. He was awaiting the birth of his second child to do that, for had Hamal been a female, arrangements would have been different than if he were a male.

"Kedar has always taken care of his little brother, but he has never offered to share their father's wealth. My elder nephew is a man of strong will and strong opinions. Three years ago, when Hamal was fifteen, Princess Turkhan, a daughter of Sultan Selim II, saw my young nephew. The royal princess is a most unusual woman. She came to Fez twelve years ago as wife to its wealthiest man. When he died she inherited everything, and because she is an Ottoman princess she is a law unto herself. Her father is obviously delighted to have her off his hands, and no one has control of her.

"In Fez she is respected for her good words and her generosity to the poor. She is powerful by virtue of her family, and by virtue of her wealth. As you know, my daughter, this is an unusual thing in the Muslim world; but no one dares criticize her way of living, though it is most shocking. Princess Turkhan keeps a harem of men for her pleasure, as a man might keep a harem of women. Fez is a holy city, and the mullahs are appalled, but they can do nothing, for she is too important and too powerful. When she saw Hamal she wanted him, and after finding out who he was, she went to my elder nephew.

"Kedar was within his rights, of course, but to this day I am shocked at what he did. He sold his younger brother to the princess-for a very fancy price, I might add. When he told me I was very angry, but, as he explained it to me, the boy is handsome and charming, though not particularly bright. Kedar did not believe that Hamal could ever take his place in the family business, and so he did what he believed was the best thing for him. As much as I disapproved of the act, I am forced to admit it was the wisest course for the boy. Princess Turkhan has adored him, cossetted him, and spoiled him from the beginning.

Then several months ago the princess acquired a new male slave, a man who has resisted her from the moment she laid eyes upon him, and can only be kept under control by means of opiates. The princess is fascinated and intrigued by this man who will not have her. She will do anything to possess his body and soul, but to date she has been unsuccessful. Oh, she can force him, but it is not the same as his surrender to her love would be. My nephew, Hamal, says that she is making herself quite sick over the new slave.

"I was interested by his story, and so out of curiosity I asked him to find out more about the man. At first the slave was loath to speak frankly with Hamal, who is Turkhan's favorite pet. Gradually, however, my nephew's honest sweetness won him over, and he confided that his name is Niall Burke."

Skye gasped and grew white, but Osman held up a warning hand. He was not yet finished with his tale. With a shudder Skye fought to regain control of her turbulent emotions, while the words, He is alive, sang in her veins.

"Niall Burke told Hamal that he was a nobleman in his own country, a place called Ireland. He told Hamal that he had a beautiful wife called Skye, and children. When I heard that, my daughter, I knew it was you. It could only be you, for who else would have so outrageous a name as Skye? I was going to send to Ireland for word of you, but then Haroun learned that you were but across the sea in Beaumont de Jaspre. That you had married its duc. Why did you marry another man when your husband was still alive?"

"My husband was believed dead," Skye replied, grateful now to be allowed to speak. "He was thought murdered by a mad religious woman and his body thrown into the sea. I was sent by Queen Elizabeth to Beaumont as part of a political alliance."

Osman nodded his bald head. "Niall Burke could only remember bits and pieces of what happened to him, my daughter. He remembered being attacked, but then his next memory is of being aboard a ship where he was nursed back to health before being put in the galleys to row. He manned an oar aboard a Barbary pirate ship for several months before he was seen here in Algiers by an enterprising slave merchant from Fez who thought the princess might be interested in him. He bought Niall Burke from the pirate ship and transported him back to Fez. The slave merchant's judgment was correct, for when Princess Turkhan saw your husband she bought him, and at the price the slaver wanted. Niall Burke has not proved the most tractable man, however. Princess Turkhan has tried everything to win him over, but he has resisted her. Now Hamal tells me his mistress has decided that she must have a child by Niall Burke. She has not ever allowed herself to become pregnant before. Her unwilling slave is resisting her more than ever, though, and the more he resists the more determined Turkhan becomes."

"Did he not tell the princess who he was?" Skye asked. "Did he not tell her that he could pay a fabulous ransom to her?"

"My daughter, you know that this is the East. When Khalid bought you do you think that he would have accepted ransom for you even had you known who you were? The princess bought your husband because she wanted him, not because she sought to make money. She is already incredibly wealthy. Even if you communicated with her, telling her the truth and offering to pay well for Niall Burke's return, she would refuse you, and she is legally within her rights.

"No, you will have to go to Fez yourself, but my nephew, Hamal, will aid you. Hamal wants your husband out of the princess's life before this obsession she has drives her mad. But we have a complication. As I have said, my daughter, Lord Burke has persisted in defying Princess Turkhan. He simply will not yield, which only intrigues her further. Now, however, Hamal tells me he has begun to grow despondent. Because of my deep fondness for you, Skye, I have sent for you, for if Lord Burke is to escape Princess Turkhan he needs his hope renewed. There is only one way that that can be achieved, I believe."

All of Skye's old instincts had begun to resurface as she listened to Osman speak. She was no longer Skye O'Malley, but rather she was Skye Mum el Khalid, one of the most famous women in Algiers. "If Hamal loves his princess so, Osman, why does he not simply rid himself of Niall? There is poison, a sharp knife in a dark garden, a pillow held over the face. There are any number of ways to rid oneself of a rival in the harem. Why has he not used one of them?" She was frankly suspicious.

"Hamal is a gentle boy," Osman replied, "and he knows that Niall's death could destroy the princess, especially if it were proved he had a part in it. Turkhan would then lose both the men for whom she truly cares. Besides, my nephew honestly loves his princess. If, however, Niall were to escape, the princess would be enraged and her love would turn to hate for Niall. A woman scorned is a terrible thing, my daughter."

Skye nodded. She certainly knew the truth of that statement. "Can you arrange for me to get to Fez?" she said. "I will, of course, take my own people with me. I do not need many, but if a rescue plan is to succeed I must have my own people about me."

“There is only one way you can get to Fez, my daughter," Osman said. "Fez is a holy city, and foreigners, women in particular, are allowed nowhere near the city. Only you alone can travel there."

Skye looked puzzled. "You say foreigners, especially women, are not allowed into Fez. How then in Heaven's name can I enter it?"

"You can only enter Fez if you are a member of a household whose master is a native of the city. You will enter Fez with my other nephew, Kedar."

"He will do this for you? How generous a man he must be!"

"You misunderstand me, Skye, my daughter. Kedar is a religious man. He will not break the taboo of Fez, his native city, even for a family tie."

“Then how?" she demanded.

"You must be very brave, Skye, my daughter. What I am about to propose to you will not be to your liking; but it is the only way, I swear to you." Osman's wise face was troubled, and Skye felt an awful foreboding.

"How?" she repeated.

Osman sighed. "In two days' time my nephew Kedar arrives here in Algiers. He comes once a year to visit me, and to seek my advice on organizing his life for the following year. I must tell you, Skye, that he is a very sensual man; a connoisseur of beautiful women; a devotee of all that is voluptuous and erotic. When he arrives I would present him with a beautiful slave girl who I shall tell him is called Muna, which as you know means desire in our tongue."

Robbie, who had been quietly listening, now burst out, "How in the name of the seven djinns is that supposed to help Skye get into Fez?" He looked first at Osman and then to Skye.

Skye was very pale, and for a moment Robbie wasn't sure she was even breathing. Finally she said, "Do you know what it is you are asking me to do? Surely, Osman, there is a better way! You cannot ask this of me!"

"I have told you the facts of the situation, my daughter. If there is another way then enlighten me, I beg you. I am appalled at what I must ask of you, but it is the only way. The knowledge that you are near can rally Lord Burke's flagging spirits and give him new courage. It is almost too late now."

"What is it you two are talking about?" Robbie asked. "I can't understand a word of it!"

"Fez is a holy city closed to foreigners, Robbie. Osman says the only way I can get into it to rescue Niall is to pretend I am a slave girl. He would present me to his nephew as such."

"What?!"

Skye almost laughed at the honest outrage on Robbie's very weathered English face. "I must pretend to be a slave," she repeated.

"I heard you the first time!" Robbie roared. "It's out of the question! Do you know what you'll have to do if you're this Kedar's slave woman? Ye're not the type of woman a man buys to scrub his floors or cook his food! Are ye daft, Skye lass? Besides, so far all we have is someone's word that this man is Niall Burke. What if he isn't? What if this is someone who knows that Niall is dead, and is using his name?"

"To what end, Robbie? Why would someone use Niall's name?"

"To gain the opportunity of ransom, lass!"

"It is rare a captive can be ransomed, Captain Small," Osman said quietly.

"Perhaps he didn't know that," Robbie said, grasping for any reasonable explanation.

"I considered the possibility that you might need proof of some sort," Osman said, "and so I asked Hamal to obtain it for me. The man who calls himself Niall Burke stands several inches over six feet in height. He has dark hair and silver eyes. He is lean and hard of body, according to Hamal, obviously a man who has kept himself in shape; and he bears the scars of a severe wound in the region of his belly."

"It is Niall!" Skye cried, and her face was suffused with pure joy. "He is alive, Robbie! He is alive!"

"All right," Robbie muttered, defeated. "I would have said it could be anyone until Osman mentioned the wound. It's Niall, all right, but he'll not be overly happy to find out that you've put yourself into the harem of some lusty Arab in order to reach Fez. And what happens when you do reach Fez? How in hell are you going to rescue a man penned in a harem when you're penned in a harem, too? Answer me that, Skye lass!"

Skye looked to Osman. "Does your plan go beyond getting me to Fez, my old friend?"

“The key is Hamal," Osman said. "Although he is the property of Princess Turkhan, she is so fond of him that he is allowed his freedom as if he were not a slave. As her favorite, he is not without influence. He comes and he goes as he pleases. He has the run of her home- and the run of his brother's home. This will allow him to help you, my daughter."

"What is the quickest escape route, Osman?" Skye asked.

“The river that runs through Fez empties into the Atlantic Ocean, my daughter, but it is not a navigable river. You will have to return the way you came, back here to Algiers. Hamal believes he knows a way, but it all depends on you making yourself indispensable to Kedar."

"How do you and Hamal communicate, Osman?" Skye was curious, for she knew it was close to six hundred miles between Fez and Algiers.

“The pigeons, my daughter," was the smiling reply. The birds are our messengers, and we use a code that I taught Hamal when he was a little boy. It amused him then, and it now amuses us that we may communicate without anyone knowing what we speak of, Skye. I was in Fez several months ago to teach briefly at the university. Hamal and I discussed much of this then, but I could not seek you until I had returned to Algiers. Had Jamil not departed for Istanbul, I should have come to you myself in Beaumont de Jaspre."

"Did you arrange for Jamil's departure?" Skye looked closely at her old friend.

Osman chuckled, and his dark eyes twinkled with glee. "It is strange," he said, admitting nothing, "that word of a cure for Jamil's impotence should come at this time."

Skye grew serious once more.

"Did you ever see Niall, Osman?" she asked.

"No," he answered, sorry to disappoint her. "The princess does not know me, and it would not have been possible under the circumstances for me to enter her house. Hamal visited me at his brother's home, or at my quarters at the university."

"You're determined to do this?" Robbie said, and Skye could hear the worried concern in his voice. '"Tis total madness, y’know."

"Niall is alive," Skye answered him. "My husband, the father of my babies, is alive! Oh, Robbie, you of all people know what we have both been through over the years. I love him! I have always loved him and he has always loved me! When I learned that Darragh had killed him I was sick with anger and outrage that after all we had endured he should be taken from me again. I must free him from this bondage he is enmeshed in, just as he would free me. I will not be beaten, Robbie! Not in this!"

Robert Small bowed his head in a private agony. He had no argument to offer, and as difficult as the situation was he knew that she was right. If they attempted to go through official channels it could take forever. More than likely the spoiled and determined Princess Turkhan would hide Niall, and they would be forced to accept defeat in the end. The Moroccan sultan was not about to offend the wealthy and powerful daughter of his overlord, the Ottoman sultan in Istanbul. They would not jeopardize themselves over an infidel nobleman. “I’ll support you in any way that I can, Skye lass," Robbie said quietly, and he hugged her where she sat, tears running down his face.

Skye's own beautiful blue eyes were wet with tears as she said huskily, "Thank you, Robbie! Thank you!"

"It is decided, then?" Osman asked.

"Yes," came the reply. "When your nephew arrives you will present him with a new slave girl named Muna. I wonder though, Osman. Am I not too old for this? I am not the girl I was ten years ago."

"You look it," Osman said. "Does she not yet look a girl, Captain Small? Your face is youthful, and I suspect that, despite all your children, your body remains youthful also."

Skye chuckled. "I have had four children since we last met, my old friend Osman. Although I am in better condition than many women my age, I am still not a girl of nineteen."

"Fear not, my daughter. We will tell Kedar that you have had children. It will only serve to increase your value in his eyes. A Fasi is very much a family man."

"What in the name of all that is holy is a Fasi?" Robbie demanded.

"A Fasi is a native-born citizen of Fez, my friend. I am a Fasi although I have lived here in Algiers for more years than I ever lived in Fez."

"How old do you intend to tell your nephew I am?" Skye asked.

"How old are you now, my daughter?"

"I am twenty-nine," she answered.

"Ye're thirty," Robbie contradicted her bluntly.

"Robbie!" Her face wore an outraged look. "A woman is always permitted to lie about her age."

"Not when she's dealing with Osman, and taking her life in her hands," he snapped. "If I know my old friend he'll be wanting to plot your own chart now that you remember your past life."

Osman's face broadened in a smile. "You are correct, Captain. When Skye was with us those ten years ago, and without her memory, I could only plot her chart to a certain degree, and by using my other powers. It was never totally accurate. Now I can do a complete horoscope, and I shall if she will but give me her birth-date."

"I was born December 5th, 1540," Skye said, "and I shall not be thirty officially until December, Robbie!" She smiled smugly at him.

Osman frowned. "I believed you born under the sign of the Ram," he said, and then his face relaxed. "Of course! Now I see it! You were conceived beneath the sign of the Ram! You are born under the sign of the Archer. Both are fire signs, my daughter. You are powerfully protected. Do you know the hour of your birth?"

"I was born at nine minutes after nine o'clock in the evening," Skye answered.

"I will work on your chart tonight," Osman said. "I must have all the knowledge I need before I send you forth to Fez." He turned to Robbie. "I will ask you to say your good-byes now, Captain. If Skye is to prepare for her role she will need time, and there is little time before Kedar arrives."

"How will I know when to expert Skye and Niall?" Robbie asked.

"Hamal will get a message to you. Remember that it will be almost two months before Skye reaches Fez. Then she will need time to make contact with Hamal, which will not be easy. It will be between three and four months, possibly more, before they can art, and return to Algiers. You will need to cultivate great patience, my friend."

"Go back to Beaumont de Jaspre," Skye said. "Tell Nicolas that I will not be returning. Then see that the children are sent home immediately. There is no need to torture my poor Nicolas any further, and if all evidence of my residence in Villerose is wiped away, then perhaps he will seriously consider choosing a new bride. The children will go overland to the channel coast, for I have promised them a visit to Paris. Bran is to take them from France to England. I had intended that my Burke children be sent directly to Ireland, but I think that it is better that Bran meet with you when he has gotten them all safely to England. In case anything should happen to one of you, better I have the both of you as guardians. The Burke infants can stay with your sister at Wren Court, Robbie. They will be no trouble, as they have their own staff, and I will wager that Dame Cecily adores having them."

"Let me stay at least until you leave for Fez," Robbie begged.

"No," she answered. "If I am to convince Kedar that I am nothing more than a captive slave girl I must be totally cut off from my real life. It is going to be hard enough to be subservient, Robbie!" Her blue-green eyes were laughing at him now, and he guffawed loudly.

"Aye," he said, "I suppose it is best I leave you alone to prepare for your role. It wouldn't do to have you telling this great merchant of Fez how to run his business. I don't think that that is quite what he's going to expect of you." Then he grew serious. “You'll take care of yourself, lass? You'll not take chances?"

"I am taking a chance when I travel to Fez as Kedar's slave," she said softly. “There is no escaping the danger, Robbie, but I am mindful of it. I am not afraid." She leaned over and kissed him.

No, she wasn't afraid, he could see it. Her belief that she could find Niall and escape back to safety shone like a silvery aura about her. Robert Small prayed silently that that faith be justified. She had so very much to lose.

He rose slowly to his feet and drew her up. "All right, then," he said, "I’ll be on my way. Walk me to the door, and we'll say our farewells there." He turned. "Osman, my friend, will you come also?"

"No, Captain. I will bid you farewell here. We will meet again, I know; and believe me that all will go well, my friend. May Allah watch over you."

Robbie nodded. "I've never known you to be wrong, Osman," he said. "I know that I can trust you."

Together Skye and Robbie walked to the main entry of Osman's house. There was really nothing left for them to discuss, so she simply hugged him, and said, 'Take care, my dearest friend."

"It is you who should take care," he muttered, and then he held her close against him in a fatherly embrace. "I wish to Heaven you wouldn't do this thing," he said, "but I know that you must. God's bones, lass, come home safely!" Then he quickly released her, and was gone out the door. She was certain she had seen tears in his kindly eyes.

With a sigh Skye turned from the door and walked back to Osman's study, where the astrologer awaited her. Wordlessly he handed her a tiny porcelain cup of newly made coffee. Slowly she sipped the burning, bitter liquid until at last she felt calm again. Sensing her recovery, Osman spoke.

“There is no one among my slaves who knows who you are. We will therefore begin the charade now. You are Muna, a slave girl whom I have bought to give my nephew, the lord Kedar of Fez. You are a captive, but for beautiful captives like yourself there is no ransom. You were widowed a year ago, and were being sent by your family to marry a wealthy Florentine merchant. You have two babies, but your husband-to-be did not want you to bring your children to this new marriage.

"Just as it entered the Mediterranean, your ship was captured by pirates who brought you to Algiers, where you were placed in a private bagnos. I bought you. You arrived today at the same time my old friend, Captain Small, arrived. I have returned your trunk, by the way, to your ship. I will see that you are clothed properly to entice my nephew." He thought a moment. "Have I forgotten anything, Muna?"

"No, my lord Osman," she answered meekly.

He smiled. "Very good, my daughter! Now, for the next two days you must immerse yourself in the character of Muna. Does my history of your past satisfy you?"

"It is fine, my lord, but I would ask one question. You have still not told me how old I am to be."

"Aiii!" Osman clapped his plump hand to his smooth forehead. Then he nodded at her with a small smile. "You can easily pass for twenty, my daughter. Your skin is so marvelously translucent it makes you seem much younger than your years. One other thing. You must have a potion that will prevent your conceiving a child by my nephew. Such a thing is unthinkable!"

"I have my own potion, Osman, but you have sent it back to the ship along with my trunk," she laughed.

"It works?"

"I have never conceived a child while I took it," she answered him.

"I will have it fetched immediately, then," he said. "There is no use switching potions if yours works. Return to your quarters now, my daughter, and I will send the seamstress to you. She will outfit you completely within the next two days. When Kedar arrives you will be ready for him."

Skye rose from the silken cushions, bowed low to Osman, and left him. The next two days proved busy ones as the seamstress and her assistants sewed a lavish wardrobe for the beautiful slave girl Muna. In Osman's household only his wife, Alima, knew the truth about Muna. The two women spent most of their waking hours together in the garden, surrounded by Alima and Osman's children. Altogether there were seven of them: five mischievous little boys ranging in age from nine to two; and two little girls, one seven, and one an infant who had been born around the same time as Skye's son, Padraic. Alima refreshed Skye's memory on Eastern customs; any other gaps of knowledge would be put down to her status as a slave.

"What is Kedar like?" she asked Alima.

"I know little about him," came the reply. "Osman is a very jealous man, and does not allow even his male relatives into the women's part of the house. I have seen him, of course; Kedar is an attractive man, Muna. He stands a few inches taller than you, and is very powerfully built although he is not fat. He is as fair of skin as you are, for when he lifted his arms once and his robe fell open, I could see where the sun had not reached the whiteness of his skin. The first time I met him I was quite curious, and boldly lifted my eyes to his for just a second. He has eyes as powerful as his uncle, my husband. They are hazel in color, and his hair is a dark brown. His features are pleasant, the eyes well spaced, his face narrow, his nose very aquiline, his lips quite sensuous, as they are a bit wide."

Skye nodded, satisfied. At least the man wasn't ugly. "Is he intelligent?" she said, wondering if Alima would know what she really meant.

With her shrewd peasant soul, however, Alima understood. "Yes, he is intelligent and very clever. I also suspect he has some of his uncle's powers, although Osman has said nothing about it. He is very possessive of what is his, Muna, so if he decides you please him-and you must please him if you are to get to Fez-he will want to own you totally. Beware of him, for I believe he is a dangerous man."

Again Skye nodded, and then she asked a final question. "What if he decides to sell me, Alima?"

"Do not fear, Muna. Osman intends to ask him to resell you to him for my sake if Kedar should grow tired of you. Kedar cannot refuse that request."

Alima's words reassured Skye considerably, particularly when late that very afternoon Kedar arrived. The two women watched from behind the latticed windows of an upper story as Osman greeted his nephew in the gardens of the house. Kedar moved with a sleek grace that reminded Skye of the panthers she and Khalid el Bey had kept for hunting. Kedar held his head high, and his step was at once light and very assured. The two men embraced, and then Osman, knowing that the two women watched, pushed back the hood of his nephew's white traveling robes.

"Let me look at you, son of my beloved dead sister," he said, and Skye could see that the face in profile was arrogant, hawklike, and Arab.

"It is good to see you again, my Uncle," Kedar replied, and Skye was struck by the very deep timbre of the man's voice. It was a voice used to giving orders, used to being obeyed.

"Have you seen enough, Muna?" Alima whispered.

"Yes."

"Let us go then, for Osman will shortly send for you, and I would be certain your garb is perfection."

Below them, Osman led Kedar into the cool interior of the house to a small salon. The two men settled themselves comfortably upon low, cushioned red velvet divans, and immediately a slave appeared with a silver basin filled with warmed rosewater and a soft linen towel. Kedar washed the dust of his travels from his face and his hands, and dried them carefully. His were the hands of an aristocrat, long and slender with well-tapered nails. When he had finished, and the slave had hurried off with the used towel and the basin, two other slaves entered the room. One carried a plate of gazelle horns, curved pastries made of flour, ground nuts, and honey. The other was the coffeemaker, who immediately set to work grinding beans and then brewing a dark and rich coffee. When he and his nephew had been served Osman waved them from the room, and sat chatting companionably with his nephew. At last, the courtesies all observed and the traveler made comfortable, Osman said, "You know that each year when you visit me I have a gift for you. This year it is something very, very special. Knowing how proud you are of your harem, my nephew, I have purchased an exquisite slave girl for you. It was not at all what I had in mind, Kedar, but I saw the woman by chance, and knew that she was perfect for your collection of rare and unusual beauties. I know that your good manners will force you to take my gift, but should, Allah forfend, the girl displease you, then allow me to buy her from you when you return to Fez."

"If you like her so well, my Uncle, then why give her to me?"

"You misunderstand, Kedar. I do not want her for myself, but she and my wife have become good companions in the short time she has been in my house. I would do it for Alima. I do not think, however, that you will want to sell her to me. She is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen."

"Is she European?"

"Yes. English."

"A blonde?" Kedar sounded interested.

"No, a brunette. But what a brunette! Her skin is like a gardenia petal! Would you like to see her?"

"Why not, and I thank you for such a delightful surprise, Uncle. As you know, I do not travel with any of my women, and I have been a month in coming from Fez."

Osman clapped his hands, and instantly a slave appeared. "Fetch the slave girl Muna," he ordered, and the slave, nodding, bowed himself out of the room.

"Muna," Kedar smiled. "You have named her Muna? She is that beautiful?"

"I do not believe that a man can see her and not desire her," was Osman's reply.

Kedar smiled, faintly amused. He had never known his uncle to be a particular connoisseur of female flesh. He could only assume that his aunt by marriage was a pretty woman, for he had never been allowed to see her unveiled; but he had seen her children and they were certainly attractive. Kedar believed that Alima was a Frenchwoman, but he had never asked, for it would have been considered too personal a question and extremely bad manners. He sipped at the dregs of his coffee and nodded at his uncle. "The woman must be memorable if she has impressed you," he remarked drily.

Osman smiled an almost mischievous smile, and said, "You have but a moment to wait, nephew."

The sound of his words had barely died when the door to the salon opened and Skye entered. Her head was lowered, and she had barely entered the room when she was on her knees, her head touching the floor in perfect obeisance. In that position Kedar could see little more of her than a rather charmingly rounded section of hip. Osman noted the easy frustration of his nephew, and said, "Rise, Muna." She stood quickly, silently, her head still lowered. "Raise your head up," Osman commanded, and Skye slowly, almost shyly lifted her head. Kedar caught his breath audibly as he gazed into a pair of magnificent blue-green eyes, and Osman smiled softly to himself. His nephew was hooked as easily as any foolish fish offered a delectable bit of bait. Truly his weakness was women. "This is your new master, Muna, the lord Kedar."

"My lord," she whispered, and he was forced to lean closer to hear her. In doing so smelled the delicious fragrance of her rose perfume, which he instinctively knew suited her admirably. She was indeed a perfect rose.

"Remove your garments," Osman commanded sharply, and Skye turned startled eyes to him, a slow blush suffusing her cheeks.

"No, Uncle, it will not be necessary," Kedar said. His hand reached out to touch Skye's arm, his fingers caressing the satiny round of her shoulder. The woman is shy, and I would not force her. Later she will display to me her obviously bounteous charms. Is that not right, my beautiful Muna?" His fingers continued their caressing.

"Yes, my lord," Skye said low, and then she trembled, unable to control the tiny ripple of fear that rolled over her. This was no fat and lazy merchant prince who could be easily led through his own lust by a beautiful woman. His hazel eyes were too much like Osman's eyes; knowing and seeking. Why had she ever agreed to this insane plan in the first place? It wasn't going to work; she was going to be caught like a bird in a net if she went to Fez as this man's slave! Then in her mind's eye Skye saw Niall, her beloved Niall; and taking a deep breath, she calmed this flight of nerves that had possessed her.

"Send her to my quarters, Uncle," Kedar said, then added in a lower, more intimate voice to Skye, "I will not keep you waiting long, my beautiful Muna. Very soon you will be cured of your charming shyness toward me."

"Go, Muna," came Osman's voice. She turned, and with a low bow toward each of them left the room.

"She is exquisite," Kedar said quietly as the door closed behind Skye. "I suspect, my Uncle, that words alone will not adequately express my gratitude. Tell me, though, how it is she speaks our language if she is a recent captive?"

The owner of the bagnos in which I saw her brought her from the ship that had taken her captive. Because she was so filthy and disreputable-looking she escaped being chosen by the Dey’s chief eunuch. The fool could not see her beauty beneath all the dirt and rebellion, but the bagnos owner could. She remained full of fight, however, and it took several months to calm her and train her in the simple rudiments of being a slave. I am afraid she is not greatly accomplished, but she was so beautiful I could not resist. The bagnos owner told me that she appears to be intelligent. He was only forced to discipline her twice, and he did go lightly with her. She has not been marked in any way at all, and she was quick to learn that unruly behavior would only bring on severe chastisement. It was while she was in the bagnos that she learned our language. I have discovered that she speaks several other European languages. She was obviously educated by her family, though why they bothered I do not know. She is only a woman."

“True," Kedar replied, "but an intelligent woman, I have found, is usually far more intriguing than the women who can only spread their legs and prattle on about nothing. Her active mind will make her far more interesting, Uncle."

"I bought her for her beautiful face and body," Osman said, sounding somewhat aggrieved.

“Those I intend enjoying as soon as possible, my Uncle, but first I would bathe the dust of that long road between Fez and Algiers from my body."

"Will you eat with me afterward, my nephew?"

"Not tonight, Uncle. Tonight I intend to put to use the magnificent gift you have given me. I have been a full month without a woman. The whores in the roadside caravanserais are not even fit for camel drivers, and besides, they are all diseased. I never touch them."

"You know your way to the baths, nephew. Alima has seen that the slaves are ready and awaiting your arrival. Enjoy! I shall speak with you tomorrow."

"As always, Uncle, your hospitality is munificent," Kedar said, and then withdrew, hurrying down the hallway from the salon to the spacious baths that Osman had added on to the house soon after he had bought it. As his uncle had said, the slave girls who attended the bath were awaiting him, and they quickly had his clothes off. They were pretty black girls, and he knew them all. Merrily they joked back and forth with him as they soaped and scrubbed him down. Their hands were everywhere on his body, caressing and rubbing with practiced and seemingly detached skill. After all, it was their job to wash the master and his family, and anyone else they might be asked to wash. Still, knowing he was a passionate man, and that his forced abstinence had rendered him as randy as a stallion in a herd of mares in season, they teased him gently as his male organ responded to their tender touches. The lord Kedar had been known in the past to ease his hunger upon the humble bath girls, and they were hopeful.

Today, however, they were doomed to disappointment. He grinned regretfully at them, and shook his head.

"Ah," said the eldest of them, a full-figured girl named Nigera, "the lord Kedar would save his strength for the new slave girl, Muna. It is she who will feel the sting of his mighty lance this night."

The others giggled behind their hands at Kedar's enthusiastic nod. "What do you know of the woman?" he asked, curious.

"She arrived a little time ago," Nigera said. "She and the lady Alima became friends. Muna is a sweet woman and a courteous one, from what I have observed here in the bath. She comes with the mistress and her children."

"She is very good with the children," observed another of the bath attendants. 'They say she had children in her old life. Sometimes I would catch her sighing over the lady Alima's youngest daughter, and there would be a sad look upon her face."

The bath attendants had finished washing Kedar, and now they rinsed him off. Next they shaved several days' growth of beard from his face, for he preferred to be smooth-shaven, and then they scrubbed his wavy dark brown head clean. Finally they led him to the hot tub, where he would soak for a while relaxing his travel-weary muscles. He pondered their chatter. Muna was not a virgin, praise Allah, for he was in no mood to deflower a maiden tonight. He wanted a woman who knew what passion was all about. She might be reluctant, but coaxed firmly and gently, she would quickly succumb. His smile was rather predatory as he contemplated this delightful gift of his uncle's choosing.

She had been dressed exquisitely but simply when she had come to the salon. Her full pantaloons had been a gossamer-sheer blush-colored silk shot through with silver threads. The ankle bands and the sewn-in hip band had been embroidered in pink glass beads and silver thread. The pantaloons had ridden just over the bottom of her hip bones, and she had been nude above, save a sleeveless, open bolero of blush-colored silk edged in silver trim which just barely clung to the soft swelling of her lovely bosom. He had very much wanted to see that bosom, but her charmingly modest blush when his uncle had ordered her to disrobe had frankly disarmed him. She had worn no jewelry, of course, having had no previous master to deck her with delicate baubles. She would, he suspected, cost him a fortune in jewelry, and he smiled to himself anticipating her delight and pleasure at the wonderful gifts he would give her. Her dark hair had been caught back with a pearl-embroidered pink ribbon, and he was looking forward to loosening it, and running his fingers through it.

An ache in his groin told him that he was becoming aroused again. Cursing softly, he forced his mind away from his beautiful new slave, and silently began to recite verses from the Koran. It was an excellent discipline. No man should allow a woman to insinuate herself so deeply into his soul that he couldn't do without her. Several minutes later Nigera tapped him, saying, "It is time, my lord," and he rose from the pleasantly heated marble tub. He walked across the tiled floor of the bath and entered another bright and airy room, where he seated himself. Silently two slave girls pared the nails on both his hands and his feet. Then they trimmed his now dry hair. He walked to a massage bench and lay down, to give himself up to the ministrations of Nigera's supple fingers for the next hour. When she had finished massaging him thoroughly she helped him sit up and handed him a cup of boiling, sweet Turkish coffee. Gingerly he sipped the hot drink from the tiny eggshell cup. He felt refreshed and revived, and quite ready for a long evening of pleasurable sport with Muna.

Standing, Kedar held out his arms as a comfortable loose caftan was wrapped about him. He slid his feet into the soft slippers that were offered him, and with a smile of thanks to the bath attendants he left the room and walked toward his own apartments. As he reached them the eunuch guarding the door flung it open at precisely the right moment, and Kedar walked through into a large room.

It was a simple but elegant room with walls that were covered in black, red, and white tiles in a geometric pattern a quarter of the way up and whitewashed above. To the left of the door were three casement windows, the wall above the windows decorated in a fan-shaped pattern of designed plaster. The floor was cool red tile, but over a good portion of it was a fine, thick red, blue, and gold rug. On either side of the room were low, armless divans of red brocade with plump white pillows embroidered in gold thread. In the center was a footed brass brazier, and from the dark beamed ceiling hung a brass lamp with amber glass. Near the divans there were polished low, round ebony tables, upon which rested smaller decorated brass lamps with their amusingly curved mouths spouting wicks.

Opposite the salon door was a large double couch curtained in red velvet and cloth of gold. Over the couch was a brocaded cloth of gold awning with wide red velvet stripes, and the walls around the high couch were hung in embroidered red velvet. The couch was covered in a matching brocaded velvet fabric with a busy geometric design upon it. Enormous feather and down cushions in multi-colored silks and velvets were piled upon it in the corners and along the back. A long red velvet cushion with silk tassels at each corner had been set upon the tiled step to the couch.

She should have been awaiting him there, but she was not. Instead, she was sleeping upon the couch, within the curtained alcove. Tonight Kedar thought he would be indulgent, but he would teach her her proper place in his life. He was not an Ottoman to be ruled by his women. For a long moment he stood looking down at her, and then kneeling upon the cushions, he studied her at close range. His uncle had been right. She was indeed a beauty. He didn't need to touch her hair to know that it was soft. And her skin! Allah! Had there ever been such skin? Reaching out, he lifted back one side of her ridiculous little bolero, exposing her breast. For a long time he studied the flawless contours of that breast without even touching it. It had the most pleasing roundness to it, and yet the impudent way in which the small pink nipple tilted upward enchanted him. Here again there was no hurry to touch, for he could see with his sharp, knowledgeable eye that the skin was soft, smooth, and firm.

It was then that Skye opened her eyes and caught him in her cool blue-green gaze for a brief moment before lowering her long black lashes in feigned modesty. A tiny smile played at the corners of Kedar's mouth. For a small second she had made him feel like a little boy discovered just as he was about to be naughty. The fact that she could do that on such short acquaintance delighted him. "You cannot blame me for contemplating your beauty, my fair Muna," he said in his deep voice. "You have already ravished me with your face and form."

"It is not for me to say, my lord Kedar," she answered. "I am but your humble slave."

"You recite the words perfectly," was his answer, "yet I do not think for one moment that you believe them."

"I was not raised to be a slave, my lord Kedar."

"Nonetheless you are an exquisite one, and I give thanks to the beneficent Allah who has given you to me, my fair Muna." He was pleased to see that captivity had not broken her spirit. Skye smiled inwardly to herself at his words. She had decided not to be overly meek with this man. It would quickly bore him. His next words caused her to start. "Disrobe for me now, Muna. I would see your beauty entirely rather than through the taunting diaphanous silk of your charming costume."

Skye could not help the shiver that raced through her. This was the moment she had dreaded, for now there was no going back. Once again she wondered if she were mad in what she was attempting to do. Despite what Osman said, there were no guarantees that she would find Niall. What if he was dead by the time she arrived in Fez? Nothing was more fierce than a woman rejected by a man she desires, and Princess Turkhan was a powerful woman. A slave had no rights. He could be killed by his master simply because it amused his master to kill him. For a single second she contemplated racing from the room and begging Osman to stop this charade immediately, before it was too late. Then came the horrifying realization: It was already too late.

Silently she slipped from the soft couch, turning to keep her back to him. With a motion so fluidly graceful that he wasn't even certain how she had accomplished it, Skye slipped the little bolero off and dropped it to the floor. Seated upon the couch now, Kedar admired the long line of her back. There was not a mark on her skin. It was as pristine as an unwritten parchment. Skye carefully loosened her pantaloons, and they puddled around her ankles before she stepped out of them. As she turned he had just a quick glimpse of her breasts and belly before she was kneeling before him, her dark head pressing into the wool carpet. "As my lord commands," she murmured at him.

Ravish. The word entwined itself about his brain. He wanted to ravish her; to leap from his position upon the couch, press her back into the rug, and ravish her! Instead, he took several deep breaths to calm himself. He did not believe in hurrying a woman along passion's pathway, but he had to admit to himself that he had never before desired a woman as greatly as he did this one. Perhaps it was his abstinence on his journey; but Kedar knew it was not. He was not a man to neglect his harem, often sending for two or three women in a single night; but neither was he one of those weak fools who could not survive a day without shoving himself into a warm and willing woman. No. This one was different, and he was fascinated. "Stand up," he commanded her, and watched with pleasure as she gracefully rose from her obeisance.

She, in turn, watched him from beneath lowered lashes as he stood and came down from the couch on the dais toward her. He stopped and then studied her in a slow and leisurely fashion, giving an occasional command which she obeyed silently. "Turn, Muna," and she could feel his eyes moving from her shoulders down to her buttocks, down her legs to her feet. "Turn again." His hazel eyes moved from her feet, up her legs, to her beautifully plump, pearl-smooth Venus mont. He could see that her cleft was fine, long, and deep, an indication, according to harem tradition, of a passionate woman. His eyes continued their inspection to her pleasingly rounded belly, to her lean, flat, and long torso, to her breasts. "Raise your arms," he commanded her. "Put them behind your head."

This had the effect of raising her breasts upward so he might have a complete view of them. Skye had never felt more debased in her entire life as his glance fastened hungrily upon her round breasts. She wondered almost bitterly if he would ask her to open her mouth so he might inspect and count her teeth. She had never until now understood the awful and terrifying degradation of being a slave. Oh, she had legally been the slave of Khalid el Bey until he freed her before their marriage; but Khalid had never treated her like one. He had from the beginning been a man in love. Kedar was not a man in love. He was a man in lust; a man delighted with his new possession, as his careful inspection of her person indicated.

Kedar, however, was not entirely insensitive to his slave. He saw the flush of embarrassment that stained her cheeks as she was silently forced to comply with his wishes. He saw the quickening of her heartbeat in the visible fluttering in her chest, a pounding pulse at the base of her slender throat. He noted that she was trembling ever so slightly, although she forced herself to stand grimly still. Yes, her spirit was still there, and he was glad! He would not break it, only tame it, but then a truly wild thing was never really completely tame. The pleasure at that particular thought washed over him like a soothing balm.

Reaching out, he touched her for the first time. He touched her as he would touch one of his thoroughbred Arab mares to gentle it. His hand smoothed down from her shoulder to her buttock in a slow and easy motion. "Don't be afraid, my fair Muna," he said in his deep, velvet voice; but Skye couldn't restrain the fierce shudder that rolled over her, for the purr in his voice was that of a well-fed and powerful cat. One arm came strongly about her waist, and drawing her close to him he touched her lips gently with his. Then, to her surprise, he loosened her, and holding her lightly, cupped a breast firmly in his other hand. She raised her arm instinctively to fend him off, but he chided her in a mock-stern voice. "No, Muna, it is my right. You belong to me now. I will be patient, fair one, but you are no virgin to fear me." He pulled the silk band from her head, and her long black hair swirled loose.

"I do not know you," she whispered. To her surprise, Skye found that she really was afraid of this man, and what was worse she did not know why.

"It is no matter," he answered. "You are mine, you are beautiful, and I desire you." His thumb rubbed insistently against her hardened nipple, and Skye had to bite her lower lip to keep from screaming aloud. "You have marvelous breasts," he continued. "See how perfectly you fit my hand just to overflowing, Muna? I believe that you have the most perfect breasts I have ever seen." He smiled down at her. 'The bath girls say you are no maid, and they believe that you had children. Were you married, my fair one?"

"Yes, my lord. I am a widow. I have two children, little boys who will now be orphaned, and left to the mercy of my late husband's family." Her head drooped sadly.

"Did you nurse your sons, Muna?"

"Only a little while, my lord. Then came the wet nurse, for women of my class are expected to attend court with their husbands. I could not do that and nurse my babies."

So she was of that high a rank! Kedar was impressed, and very pleased. He quickly decided to have children by this exquisite slave woman, but already his passion for her was so great that he did not want her to waste her time nursing children when she might nurse him. His mother had nursed him until he was six, and he had developed a taste for breast milk that even today was not lost. The idea of being within Muna's fair body while he drank of her milk excited him tremendously, and without meaning to he crushed her tender breast in his hand. Skye cried out with pain, and Kedar, instantly remorseful, caressed her tenderly. "Forgive me, my fair Muna. I was quite lost in contemplation of your charms." He soothed her breasts, clucking worriedly, wondering aloud if he had bruised her soft skin.

My God, Skye thought, I am naught to him except a possession! He feels nothing for me but the need to own me, to sate his bodily lusts.

Kedar returned to a closer exploration of her body, moving his hand downward to rub across her fluttering belly. His touch was like fire against her skin, stroking seductively, sending tiny darts of fear through her. She wondered if Osman had known the kind of man his nephew really was when he had turned her over to Kedar. This was not a man to be satisfied with the mere taking of her body. He wanted far more than that. He wanted her. He wanted her soul and her mind as well as her body. Could she resist him? Already her treacherous body was beginning to stir under his touch.

His fingers moved downward again, this time coming to rest atop her cleft. Gently he moved his hand back and forth, touching her ever so lightly but insistently. She couldn't let him do this to her, she thought frantically, but her legs seemed made of jelly; and then he demanded, 'Tell me about the first time, Muna? Was he gentle? Did you like it?"

"My lord…" she stuttered her shyness at such an intimate question, and then she almost wept to remember Niall, to remember how it had been with him that first time.

"Tell me!" he murmured against her ear, his tongue licking it softly, his fingers slipping deeper into her cleft to coax the honey down from the hidden recesses of her fevered body.

"H-he was gentle," she whispered, "and yes, I liked it."

"Was he a good lover, my fair Muna?"

"My lord, I was a maid when I went to my husband. I have known but one man in my lifetime. How can I know the answer to such a question?" Her answer was certainly in keeping with the story Osman had concocted about her, and she must remember that story else Niall be lost.

Kedar smiled, satisfied. It was what he had wanted to hear, as it meant that she had not played the wanton as so many of these married European women did. He was glad that her husband had been a kind and gentle lover, her only lover. It meant that she was not afraid of the act, and that was good. No matter if her husband had been a proficient lover, he, Kedar, was a better one. By dawn the beautiful Muna would have a strong comparison, and he knew that her late lord would suffer by that comparison.

She was almost fainting against his strong arm, and so he lifted her up into his embrace. Walking to the velvet-draped couch in the alcove, he carefully placed her upon it. Her blue-green eyes heavy, she watched as he swiftly removed his white robe. Through thick lashes she peeped at him, quickly assessing his assets as he had assessed hers. He stood probably no more than three inches taller than she did, but he was powerfully built with a barrel chest, narrow waist, and sturdy legs. His body was pale and totally devoid of hair. His manhood, however, was totally out of proportion for a man under six feet. In its already half-roused state it was quite long, and she noted with trepidation that it was thick. The circumcised ruby knob of it reminded her of the head of a battering ram.

He caught her look of fear, and coming down beside her upon the couch, he murmured again in her ear, "Do not fear, Muna. Your sweet sheath will accept all of me and weep for more, I promise you!" Then he was kissing her, his lips raining a hundred little kisses on her face, scorching at her temples, her closed eyelids, her sculpted cheekbones, her stubborn chin, and the corners of her trembling mouth. His two hands pinioned her lightly against the soft velvet-covered mattress. He was strong, and she knew he could break her should he decide that was what he wanted. He was kissing her now upon her lips, testing the texture of her mouth. The kisses demanded an answer that she knew she would have to give, and the only way she could do that was to abandon herself to total passion. Niall! her tortured heart cried out. Forgive me, my darling, but I must do this if I am to save you and bring you back to me, to our babes!

Then she kissed Kedar, hesitantly at first, the kiss deepening with the increasing pressure of his lips. "Muna, Muna!" he spoke low against her mouth, and she shivered with the dark intensity of his voice. Gasping, she opened her lips to him as he ran his tongue quickly across them. Her breath came in little pants as his tongue licked the side of her face, then along her slender neck. Finding the palpitating hollow of her throat, he buried his lips there, growling, and she was again reminded of a sleek and savage cat. He terrified her. He was like an animal, possessive and totally sure of himself and his prowess. He reeked of his own masculinity. Then suddenly his tongue was entering her mouth, seeking delicately, probing gently.

Skye moaned, trying to escape the building fury of his fierce passion, but he held her firmly now, refusing to accept any rejection on her part. It would be an endless battle between them, and the knowledge of that was an incredible aphrodisiac to Kedar. Her tongue struggled to escape his, but he caught at it and sucked upon that delectable morsel. His fingers now sought her cleft once more, and pushing two of them gently within her he moved his hand slowly back and forth until with a soft cry she had her first tiny orgasm. With a smile he drew his fingers out and, pressing one of them against her lips, said, "Taste, my fair Muna. Taste your own sweet honey." She obeyed him, sucking the salty sweetness from his finger, and then watching almost mesmerized as he sucked the second finger once she had finished. He then drew the two wet fingers between the valley of her breasts in a slow and seductive motion, his hazel eyes holding her blue-green ones with a forceful magnetism.

"Tell me what pleases you," he demanded.

Skye pretended confusion. "My lord," she said low, "I have been taught by the women in the bagnos that it is not what pleases me that matters, but rather, what pleases you. I have been told that it is the woman's duty to please her master, to ride him to pleasure. Is it not so?"

"For some, perhaps," he answered, smiling, "but I believe a man is better served when he may conquer the woman beneath him. There will be times when it pleases me to let you ride me, fair Muna, but that is my decision. I will lead you in our lovemaking. You need not fear, my beautiful one, that you will displease me." His fingers then trailed back up between her breasts. "Tonight," he said, "I want to learn about you. I want to know what gives you pleasure, what excites you, how your luscious body responds to sensuousness. Tell me what your last lord did when you made love together."

"We… we made love," she replied helplessly, deciding that lack of sophistication in this area was what would make him happiest.

"He touched your body?"

"Yes."

"Your breasts? He rode you?"

"Y-yes."

"What else?" Kedar demanded.

"What else is there, my lord?" Skye's blue-green eyes were guileless, but inside she was trembling again as she wondered where this line of questioning was leading. Was he a gentle man, or was he one of those who gained pleasure through pain?

A slow, satisfied smile lit Kedar's features. "There is much, much more, my fair slave, than the little that you have described to me. I can open a whole new world to you, and I intend to!"

In a corner of the divan rested a woven gold basket, square in shape and without a handle. Within the basket were several bottles carved from different-colored marbles and alabaster. Without even looking closely, Kedar reached out and drew forth a narrow-necked vessel with a silver and cork stopper. He opened it, and a strong fragrance, vaguely familiar, wafted out.

"Musk rose," he said, seeing her curiosity. "It is a special lotion for the body. Turn onto your back and let me rub some on you."

Skye rolled over and lay waiting tensely for his touch. When it came it was gentle yet strong. He had warmed the lotion in his hands so as not to shock her delicate skin, and his sure, long strokes swept up her back from her buttocks, kneading the muscles with a firm motion. His touch was strangely soothing, and she began to relax. What an odd man he was, she thought. Seeing his open lust, she had thought he would be quick to mount her and sate that desire. Instead, here he was massaging her with tender hands and making no effort to hurry her. Perhaps it would not be so dreadful to pretend to be his slave for the next few weeks until she found Niall, and with young Hamal formulated a plan for their escape from Fez.

"Do you like this, Muna?" he whispered into her ear. Then he very gently nipped at the back of her neck, pushing her long hair aside first.

"Yes, my lord, it is most pleasurable," she answered him.

He laughed softly and resumed his massage, working now on each of her long legs, the firm thighs and calves, her slim feet. "I once had a slave girl from Cathay," he said, "who taught me that there is a particularly sensitive spot on the foot." His fingers dug into her foot, and suddenly Skye felt a stab of desire race through her. She gasped, surprised, and Kedar laughed again. "Yes, my fair Muna, right there." He moved on to her other leg and worked it as he had the first. 'Turn over now, beautiful one," he ordered, and she obeyed.

"What happened to your slave girl from Cathay?" Skye asked.

"She died under my lash," he said casually.

"Why?" Skye was horrified.

"I caught her betraying me with one of my guard. He was forced to watch while I beat her. Just before she lost consciousness for good, my head eunuch decapitated him. I then finished her punishment. No one takes what is mine!"

"You killed her," Skye whispered. "Dear God!"

He tipped the alabaster flask of pale-pink lotion into his hands, and then put aside the bottle to massage her breasts and her belly. "It should not concern you, beautiful Muna. I am normally a kind master, but you must understand that I could not allow one of my women to escape severe punishment for such unconscionable behavior."

"Could you not have sold her off?"

To whom? Who would want a faithless woman? Besides, I would not be shamed by the public knowledge that one to whom I had given the title of favorite had openly cuckolded me." He sat astride her hips, his supple hands smoothing the silky pink liquid over her soft belly, across her quivering breasts. His eyes, hazel green with small flickering gold pinpoints of light, bore into her blue-green ones. 'Tell me what you are feeling now, Muna?"

Skye forced her thoughts from the unfortunate woman whom Kedar had so easily killed. She realized that without warning her body was beginning to feel restless and strangely hot beneath his hands. She shifted nervously. "I feel strange," she whispered. "Hot. A little…" she hesitated to give him any advantage. "A little frightened," she finished, unable to think of another word.

"I don't want you to feel frightened," he said soothingly. "I want you only to feel pleasure." He leaned forward across her, and reached into the gold basket. Drawing out a small crystal flask from the container, he uncorked it. "Open your mouth," he commanded, and when she did he poured a small amount of clear, apricot-flavored liquid into it.

Skye swallowed, and then asked softly, "What is it, my lord?"

"Nothing to be afraid of, Muna. It will calm your fears and relax your body," he soothed, and then he dipped a long finger into the flask, rubbed the liquid upon one of her nipples, and, lowering his dark head, began to suck upon it.

The shudder that ripped through her almost tore her apart. Her whole body was suddenly aflame, burning with the need to love and be loved. She moaned, arcing her body against his mouth, her hands sliding across his shoulders and back, her nails raking ever so lightly. His growl of laughter sent another shudder through her, and then he was releasing her nipple and drizzling some of the clear apricot fluid over her navel. Bending his dark head again, he lapped at the liquid with his tongue, following the wet line down her belly and pearly Venus mont into her cleft, which had opened like a pretty pink shell to his questing tongue. Like Cupid's arrow, his tongue darted quickly here and there, touching and teasing everything sensitive until Skye was writhing with the need to be possessed by him.

There was another growl of laughter as he lifted his head once more. "Now," he said, "you must do the same to me, my beautiful slave." Lying back, he poured some of the liquid onto his own belly. "Come, Muna, and pleasure your master," was his command.

Skye rolled slowly over onto her belly. Her entire body felt relaxed yet incredibly desperate for total sexual fulfillment. She shifted herself until her head was over his belly, and then she began to lick at him, moving lower and lower until she encountered his fast-stiffening manhood. She stopped for a brief moment, but his hand pushed her head forward and he said in a tense voice, 'Take me in your mouth, fair Muna!" She obeyed, part of her mind amazed at her easy compliance with his order, while the other part of her brain craved with a strange intensity to do the act. In the few seconds of clarity she had before tumbling into the sensual abyss Skye realized that both the lotion he had massaged her with and the apricot-flavored liquid were aphrodisiacs. Then without another thought for what she was doing, her only desire being for pleasure, she began to run her tongue around the ruby head of his great lance, to lick the length of him with slow and sweet strokes, to take him into the warm cavity of her mouth to nurse upon until she tasted the first salty drops of his juices. Then he wrapped his hand into her dark hair and, pulling her away, groaned, "Enough, houri! You will surely unman me if I allow you to continue."

Skye whimpered a protest, but Kedar was now ready to couple with her, and he had no intention of being denied what he instinctively knew was going to be an incredible pleasure. Later he would teach her refinements to increase his pleasure; later he would allow her to suck him dry; but not this time. Rolling her onto her back, he mounted her and with one swift motion drove himself into her wet and waiting sheath. Her small cry of pleasure-pain only increased his desire. She was very tight, and he knew that his first assault had hurt her a little, but that would shortly change. With an easy and rhythmic motion he moved himself back and forth, watching through blazing, half-closed eyes her every reaction and listening with a fine-tuned ear to her little mewing cries. Skilled, he knew just how far he might drive her.

Dear God, how full he fills me! she thought. At first Kedar's great weapon had hurt her, and for a small moment she had wanted to escape him. Then the initial tension flowed from her, and she opened herself to him. She could feel him touching the very walls of her passage, and her womb, and the fire he was fanning within her helpless body was threatening to consume her. "Yesss, yesss!" she urged him on in a husky voice. "Oh, don't stop, my lord! Please don't stop!" She was going to die, but she didn't care. She wanted to die! Then she felt herself shattering into a million tiny starbursts, and all was black.

Kedar leaned back to watch the woman beneath him. She had reached her first peak, and had fainted away. He, however, was not yet ready to succumb to passion. He could wait. He was an unusual man, and he knew it, having the ability to sustain an erection for long periods of time. He took several deep, long breaths to clear his head while he enjoyed the soft throbbing of her body which enveloped his huge manhood. His hands reached out to fondle her round breasts, taking delight in the silkiness of her skin. Cruelly he pinched her pink nipples, and she moaned, but remained lost to him. He knew the pleasure that pain could occasionally bring, and wondered if she did, but he doubted it. She was delightfully innocent for a nonvirgin, and it was a marvelous combination that stimulated him. Pleasure through pain was another little refinement that they would eventually explore together, he thought with a small smile. Then her breathing told him that she was once again with him.

"Open your beautiful eyes, Muna."

Skye, still under the influence of the drugs he had given her, docilely obeyed his voice. Her will was sapped, but her awareness was intensely acute. "You are still within me, my lord," she whispered.

"We have only begun, fair one," he said as he began again the very voluptuous movement that had driven her mad before. Her eyes began to slide shut, but his sharp voice snapped them open. "No!" he said. "This time you will look into my eyes while I take you, Muna."

"I can't," she whispered.

"You will!" came the unrelenting answer. Then he moved swiftly until she knew that she didn't want him to stop, but when her eyes began to close, he ceased the pleasure.

"No," she whimpered, "don't stop, my lord!"

"Open your eyes, Muna! I won't stop if you keep your lovely sea-blue eyes open."

It was a terrible effort, but Skye managed to force her eyes to open, disclosing to him the desire within herself, and Kedar gave a soft, triumphant laugh. "Please," she begged as the sexual stimulants that he had fed her rendered her helpless to him, and to her own lust.

Slowly he initiated the erotic motion she craved, and obedient to him, her eyes never left his. She felt as if she were drowning in his fiery gaze, knew that her soul was not even her own at this minute. Suddenly he ceased his movements, and she pleaded once more, "No, don't stop, my lord Kedar! Dont!"

"In a moment, in a moment," he soothed her, "but first if I am to continue to give you this pleasure you must do something for me, fair Muna."

"Anything!" she sobbed rashly, and he smiled cruelly down at her.

"You will repeat after me," he said softly, "I am my lord Kedar's slave."

"I am my lord Kedar's slave," she said quickly, looking eagerly to him for approval.

He smiled again. "I exist solely for his pleasure."

"No!" she whimpered, the part of her that was still herself rebelling at his words.

"Say it! Say, I exist solely for his pleasure, or I shall withdraw from you." He thrust softly into her several times to entice her, and she moaned. "Say it!"

"I… I exist… solely for his… pleasure."

"Very good, my beautiful slave," he approved in his deep, purring voice, and then he gave her the pleasure she so desperately desired from him; his lean hips driving deeply against her until her senses exploded once more into fiery fragments of helpless passion. Then, to his surprise, his own love juices burst forth to flood the raging fire within her womb. With a gasp that was half from irritation he rolled from her, amazed to have lost his perfect control. She had beaten him without even realizing it, and he chuckled to himself. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed a woman so very much. By Allah, his uncle had chosen well! With a sigh of total contentment Kedar used the last of his strength to roll her inert body from the divan onto the cushion below where a proper houri belonged. He then stretched himself out, thoroughly satisfied, and quickly fell asleep.

Chapter 8

“Muna!”

Through the haziness of her barely conscious mind Skye heard the sharp command in Kedar's voice. She struggled to wake herself, but she was totally exhausted by the previous night's mental and physical battle with him. Still, she tried, for she dare not anger him or displease him before she had gotten to Fez. Shaking herself, she managed to keep her eyes open until they finally began to focus. Only then did she raise her head to him. "My lord?"

He lay on the couch above her, stretched out on his side. His hazel eyes glittered though but half open, and again Skye was reminded of a sleek feline. "I desire you," he said. "Pleasure me!" He rolled onto his back, and his manhood thrust straight into the cool, early-morning air.

God's bones! thought Skye irritably. Is the man never sated? She knew, however, what was expected of her. Hiding her annoyance, she pulled herself onto the couch by his feet. Her slender hands caressed his length as she moved herself up his hard body. His legs fell apart as her touch ignited his already inflamed passions, and Skye rose to swing herself over him, her fingers teasing at his nipples. With a groan his hands caught at her hips, and forced her down upon him. His quick penetration was almost painful, and she couldn't help the soft cry that escaped her lips.

He didn't notice, or if he did it didn't matter to him. What mattered was his own gratification. "Ride me, beautiful Muna," he murmured huskily at her, his eyes closed with enjoyment. "I know that you European women ride upon horses, my exquisite one. Have you ever ridden astride?"

"Yes, my lord," she answered him.

"Ahhh," he almost purred, "then think of me as your horse, my beautiful slave. I am the stallion that you ride to the hunt! Ride me well lest I throw you!"

Skye knew that her performance with him now would be the difference between going and staying. She had to please him, and please him so greatly that she became like a drug to him, a drug that he could not do without. "In my own land, my lord, I was a horsewoman without peer," she whispered back at him provocatively, and then she gripped him tightly between her silken thighs. Balancing herself with her hands on either side of his head she leaned forward, brushing her breasts across his lips while her hips began the love rhythm. She moved on him slowly, teasingly, with tantalizing motion, and Kedar suddenly felt he was not totally in control of the situation.

"Lean back, Muna," he commanded her tensely.

"As my lord wills," she answered softly, but there was a mocking tone to her voice that he did not fail to catch.

The little bitch! he thought angrily. She dares to seek to best me in this battle. Reaching up, he grasped her two beautiful breasts in his hands and gently crushed her soft flesh over and over again, until she began to squirm and moan, losing the rhythm.

Skye was furious at him. She sought to intrigue him, to rouse his passions, and he took it as an affront to his masculinity. She attempted to regain control of the situation by running her hands over his chest, but Kedar growled at her. "No, Muna! Domination is my right, not yours." He lifted her off him, and set her next to him.

"I but sought to please you, my lord," she protested.

"I forgive you," he said smoothly, and Skye seethed as he continued: "You are as my uncle has said, unschooled. I will enjoy teaching you how to be an obedient slave, my fair Muna. Lay on your belly now. I would relieve my lust for you." He pushed her gently over and, mounting her, effected a quick rear entry before she could even protest. He filled her sheath totally, moving smoothly to sate his own desires. He held her down with his hands on her hips, but other than that did not touch her. When his desire had burst within her he withdrew, leaving her aching with her lack of satisfaction.

Skye shuddered with actual physical pain. Her own desire was high, and she did not know how to satisfy it. She knew that Kedar had done this to her deliberately, to teach her that he was the master and she the slave. With a frustrated sob she began to weep softly, unable to contain herself. Her cries brought her mercy, for his ego was instantly gratified by her tears.

He rolled her onto her back again, and gently caressed her belly, but rather than ease her sexual tension the seductive motion only increased it. With a wicked smile he leaned across her to the gold basket and drew forth an object. "Here," he said, "this will ease your suffering, my beautiful Muna," and he pressed it into her hands.

Skye opened her eyes, and then gasped with shock. "What is it?" she demanded of him, thrusting the thing from her.

Kedar picked it up and looked upon it with a critical eye. "It has been made to exact specification," he said. "It is very prized by the women in my harem. I cannot, you will understand, pleasure them all at the same time." He let his eye move over the object again, and then said, "It is quite accurate in both size and shape, Muna. It is called a dildo. Take it in your hands, my beautiful slave, and use it. It will ease your distress."

Skye looked upon the dildo as if it were a viper. As Kedar had said, it was shaped and sized as he was. It was carved of ivory, and complete in every detail from the circumcised head of the penis to the veins all the way down its length. At the base of the dildo had been inserted a polished wooden stick by which the user could grip it.

“Take the ivory," he commanded her softly.

"No!" She was horrified.

“Take the ivory, Muna," he repeated, and she heard the menace in his voice.

"Please," she pleaded, hoping that he would relent; but she realized that if he didn't she was going to have to obey him. She could not displease him. She had to get to Fez! She had to free Niall!

He saw the weakening in her defiance. “Take the ivory," he said. "I want to watch you while you use it." His hand moved over her belly again, fanning the fires within her.

Skye shuddered, and then she picked up the dildo with shaking fingers. She was terribly embarrassed. "I have never seen such a thing, let alone used one," she said. "I don't know where to begin, my lord."

Kedar sat up facing her, his back to the velvet-covered wall, his legs crossed tailor-fashion. Leaning forward, he pushed a pillow beneath her hips. "Open your legs," he commanded her, and when she had complied he began to stroke and rub at the very core of her femininity. "You're very beautiful there," he murmured softly, his hazel eyes watching the movement of his hand on her moist sensitivity. "I possess many beautiful women in my harem, but I have never seen any woman as fair as you in so many ways. I would have all of you, my fair Muna."

Skye shuddered again as his clever fingers stoked her fires. Her instinct was to flee from this man, this terrible man who indeed wanted all of her, even that which she had never given to any man. It was a dangerous game she had elected to play, and now there was no going back. His fingers were having the desired effect, and she moaned low in her passion. "Please, my lord, please take me," she begged him, knowing that he would refuse, would impress his iron will on her.

"Use the ivory!" came the excited command. "Use the ivory!"

"Please, my lord! Not that! You take me!" There was a frantic sound to her voice, and Kedar smiled to himself.

"Use the ivory, Muna! I am the ivory, and I command it!" Allah! he thought. The sight of her sweet sex aroused and honied and eager inflamed him more than he had anticipated. Still, he would force her to his will lest she believe she could control and wheedle him at her desire.

Drawing a deep breath, Skye thrust the ivory into her body, gasping as the smooth, cold length of it slid into her. Through her half-closed eyes she could see Kedar watching her with obvious enjoyment, his hazel eyes darting from her face to her hands as they worked the dildo. The ivory did nothing to ease her discomfort, but still she moaned and thrashed her head about, knowing he expected a good show. Kedar, however, was not entirely fooled. He could see that the dildo was not having the effect that he had hoped for, and so he leaned forward once again to tease the pink pearl of her womanhood. It was as if he had touched her with fire. Her hands fell from the ivory as she moaned in earnest this time, and Kedar took up where she had left off, one hand playing with her tiny jewel, the other working the ivory dildo. She quickly cried out her release, and he immediately withdrew the dildo from her.

“There, beautiful Muna, that was not so terrible," he purred at her, fondling her quivering breasts. "Now I shall reward you, my exquisite, blue-eyed slave. You have been very good, beautiful Muna; very, very good." Kedar slid his hard body over Skye, and drove into her. “There, my pet, is that not better? I should not spoil you, but I cannot resist you at this moment."

She had barely descended from the mountain only to have him once more force her back up it. She whimpered a small protest that made him laugh softly, and then his mouth was closing over hers in a searing kiss. Again the panic gripped her as she felt herself out of control, but Kedar was not aware of her fear. He parted her lips and sucked upon her tongue while his lean hips thrust again and again until they both reached perfection.

He had swept her along with his own passion, and now she lay panting and drained. The fear had left her when he had released her. He lay next to her now, equally spent, his breathing ragged. Finally he said hoarsely, "Dear Allah, how you have destroyed me, Muna! Go now and leave me, exquisite slave. I would rest."

Skye could barely drag herself from the couch, but she knew that she had to get out of the room. She needed to be by herself in order to recover her own strength. On shaking legs she slowly exited, having first gathered up her pantaloons and bolero and quickly dressed. Stumblingly she made her way back to the women's quarters in another wing of the house, and finding her own rooms, she fell across her bed, instantly asleep from the strain and shock. Sleep was the best medicine for her, thought Osman, who had been visiting his wife, and had seen Skye as she passed by Alima's rooms.

The famous astrologer went to his library and, seating himself comfortably, began to contemplate the entire situation. He knew the kind of man that his nephew was, but he also knew that Skye was strong enough to survive Kedar's carnality. In the two days since Skye had arrived back in Algiers he had completely done her natal chart, as well as that of Niall Burke. Lord Burke's had been quite straightforward, but Skye's chart was amazing; according to his calculations, she had barely begun to live. It would not, however, be all to her liking; but then she had a strong and old soul. Skye O'Malley would survive, whatever the odds.

Osman had also studied his nephew's natal chart quite carefully, for Kedar figured so importantly in this matter. Kedar was strong, and his stars were equally strong, but the influences controlling Skye's chart were far more powerful, and Osman knew that she would be able to control her own destiny even in his nephew's hands. A small smile played about the astrologer's mouth and crinkled the corners of his eyes. He imagined that right now the exhausted Skye was yet in shock after a night with Kedar. Osman had to admit that his nephew was the most sexual man he had ever known, and his capacity for women was legendary even in Fez. Still, once Skye recovered from her initial trauma and her survival instincts surfaced, she would be formidable. Osman felt almost sorry for Kedar. He knew that his nephew had never been in love, and he hoped that Skye would not arouse that emotion in him. He did not want to hurt him. It was difficult being torn between such a good friend as Skye and his family.

Osman emptied his mind now of all thought, and relaxing his body, he began to meditate. Alima found him that way some time later in the morning. Gently she shook her husband, understanding what it was he did. The life came slowly back into the astrologer's eyes, and smiling up at his lovely wife, he said, "Kedar is awake, and wishes to know if I will eat the midday meal with him."

Alima laughed and shook her head at him. "I don't know why I even bothered to come and get you," she said. "Couldn't you at least humor me by pretending that you don't know what I have to say before I even speak?"

"You are too easy," he teased her back. "Your mind is like crystal to me. I know all where you are concerned, my love."

"All?” Alima smiled provocatively at her husband.

"Woman, your thoughts are much too immodest!" Osman pretended displeasure, but Alima was not one bit fooled.

"It will be a long, hot afternoon, my husband, and I will wager that your nephew will not waste it idly."

Osman chuckled, and then he asked, "How is Muna?"

"At this moment her thoughts of you are not entirely kindly, my lord. She is in the baths. She would speak with you, she says, before Kedar calls her to him again."

Osman nodded. "I can enter the women's quarters without any question since this is my house. When she is safely back in her own chamber, Alima, then send for me. We three will speak together. It is better you be with us, as there is no true privacy for us and your presence, my wife, will divert suspicion."

Alima nodded. "I will arrange everything, my lord," she said, and then left him.

Osman rose from the cushions and went to find Kedar. He was curious as to what his nephew had to say about the new slave girl, Muna. Kedar had bathed earlier, and now lay stretched out upon his couch while his personal body slave, a giant black named Dagan, massaged him. Seeing his uncle, he waved the slave away and pulled a length of cloth about his loins. Osman noted Kedar's powerful chest and muscled arms. He was in excellent physical condition, which, considering his appetites, Osman thought, was amazing. Youth, he decided, was obviously the key.

"Uncle!" Kedar's greeting was enthusiastic. "How do I thank you for Muna? She is incredible, magnificent! I have not enjoyed a woman so in years!"

"I am pleased to have given you such pleasure with so small a trifle as a slave girl, my nephew."

Kedar grinned. "You were right, of course. She is quite unschooled, but she is intelligent, I can see, and will be easily trained despite the streak of stubbornness I find in her. Firmness is the key to managing a woman. Firmness and discipline. One should never be afraid to punish even a beautiful creature like Muna."

"You did not punish her?" Osman tried to keep the nervousness from his voice. “The girl cost me a pretty penny, Kedar."

"Allah, no!" Kedar laughed. "I'm afraid I grow weak with age, Uncle. I could not destroy that gorgeous skin she possesses. If Muna should ever become recalcitrant I shall have to think of a way to punish her without using the lash. No, but she sought to defy me a little last night, and I was forced to be quite firm. She responded well, and became quite pliant afterward."

"Yes," Osman answered, "I suspect that reason will always overcome any outbursts on Muna's part. Tell me, nephew, how long will you be with me this trip? We had so little time to speak last night, so eager were you to have the slave girl. I understood, of course. Your trip from Fez was a long and lonely one."

"I am no longer lonely," Kedar smiled. "I shall probably stay with you a good month or more, Uncle. I have a great deal of business to conduct while I am here in Algiers, and now that you have made me so comfortable I am in no hurry to depart."

The two men chuckled companionably and, after a few more minutes of idle conversation, ate a light repast. Then Osman excused himself and hurried to the women's quarters. He found both his wife and Skye awaiting him in Skye's bedchamber. "Good day, my daughter," he said calmly.

Skye glowered at Osman, and then a small smile touched her lips. "I cannot say that you did not warn me that he was a lustful man, Osman," she said, "but you did not tell me that he was built like a bull, and totally insatiable. I am exhausted, having been at his tender mercy this past night. Still, I know that it is the only way for me to reach Fez, to free my husband. Now, however, we must speak seriously."

Osman nodded. "You have doubts, I know."

"You are certain that your younger nephew, Hamal, will aid me in rescuing Niall? If the boy truly loves his princess perhaps he will have had second thoughts by now."

"I am in constant touch with Hamal, Muna." He looked closely at her. "But if Hamal should change his mind, my daughter, what would you do? You would not, I know, leave your husband to languish in the princess's harem."

"No, Osman, I would not. I should find a way."

"I know," came the answer. "It is your fate to travel to Fez."

"Is it my fate to return, Osman?" Skye's glance was a candid one.

"You will see your green land again, my daughter," was his reply. "Now tell me what else it is that troubles you."

"It is your nephew, Osman. He is a frighteningly possessive man. Will he allow me any measure of freedom or will I find myself walled up in his harem?"

"I will speak to him, Muna. He has told me that he intends to stay a month here in Algiers. I will convince him of the need to allow you to move about the city, properly attired, of course."

"He plans to stay a month? Osman, can you not convince him to spend less time here? You yourself said that every minute counts!"

"He is just arrived yesterday, my daughter. I can hardly send him back today. I do not know what his business is, but I shall soon learn it. Perhaps then I may speed his affairs along, and you will return to Fez at an earlier date. Be patient, my daughter. You have yet to learn that everything will take place in its own time, and not a moment before."

A knock sounded upon the door, and a slave girl put her head into the room. "The lord Kedar has sent his slave, Dagan, to bring Muna to him."

Skye nodded. "I will come," she said, and the girl departed the room. Skye rose. "It is barely two hours after noon," she said, making a small moue with her mouth. "I did manage to get six hours' sleep. Heaven only knows how long it will have to last me!"

"He will probably leave you this evening to have dinner with friends and conduct some business," Osman said reassuringly.

"He will return though, old friend, and he will expect me to be eagerly awaiting him."

"And you will," Osman said quietly.

"Yes," Skye replied. "I will." Then she was gone from the room, and Alima looked to her husband with troubled eyes.

"Will she be all right, my husband? We should ill repay the kindness of the late Khalid el Bey should we put her in any danger."

"You are a gentle flower, my Alima," Osman said, "but for all her delicate looks Skye is tempered of as fine a steel as the Toledo blade. She cannot be broken or bent. She will survive, never fear."

While Osman reassured his wife, Skye was following the huge Dagan through the house back to Kedar's chambers. The few hours' sleep and the steam of the bath had combined to give her a radiant glow. Her cheeks were flushed rose, and her eyes sparkled like a fine Ceylon sapphire. She wore a simple gauze caftan of turquoise blue, and her black hair had been braided into one thick plait and dressed with tiny freshwater pearls and silver lame ribbons.

Kedar's eyes lit up at the sight of her. He reminded her of a panther contemplating its meal, and Skye suppressed a small shiver as she slipped to her knees, bent forward, and touched her forehead to his slipper. "Rise, Muna," he said, pulling her eagerly up to him. "Dear Allah, how is it possible that you are so radiant?" His mouth descended quickly upon hers, and Skye slid her arms about him, pressing her lush form against him. Kedar shuddered, and pulled away in surprise. "No woman has ever done that to me," he said, looking at her curiously.

"I did not mean to displease you, my lord," she said meekly.

"I know that, beautiful one. I am simply surprised at myself. I thought having sated myself upon your beautiful body just several hours ago I would be replete. No woman has ever touched me as you have, and I find, however, that I am not."

"You have but to command me, my lord Kedar."

A slow smile lit his features, and he turned to the black slave who stood awaiting his master's commands. "Well, Dagan, did my uncle not present me with a perfect jewel?"

"Yes, master. The lord Osman was most generous."

Kedar turned to Skye. "And you, my fair Muna. What do you think of Dagan? He has been with me for ten years now, and I trust him with my life."

"I did not speak to the man, my lord, not knowing if it was permitted."

Kedar laughed. "Dagan is not a man, my beautiful slave. He is a eunuch. I should not allow him near you were he not gelded." He turned to the slave. "Stay, Dagan. I want to give Muna the lesson I give all the women I take into my harem."

The black man smiled broadly. "Yes, master!"

Kedar gently began to unbutton the little pearl buttons that held together the halves of Skye's caftan. When they were all undone he pushed the gown off her shoulders, and it silently slid to the floor. She stood very still while his hands wandered casually over her breasts. "Each woman, my fair Muna, should have something to fear. Most of the women in my harem fear the lash should they displease me, but your skin is so incredibly lovely that I would never mark it. It was therefore necessary to devise a punishment that you would fear, and I have decided on the bastinado. Have you ever suffered this form of chastisement?"

"No, my lord." She knew of the bastinado, of course, but never had Khalid used such cruelty.

"Then you cannot be fearful of that which you do not know. I intend to give you a lesson in the bastinado now, my fair Muna. You will then understand and be afraid. You will also comprehend that if you should at any time displease me, you will be put to this discipline." Kedar turned to Dagan. "I will hold her," he said, and then he instructed Skye in a quiet voice. "I want you to lay upon your back on the floor and elevate your legs upon these pillows."

Skye was terrified. "My lord," she pleaded with him, "please do not do this!"

For a moment he was tender, gathering her into his arms and crooning to her. “There, my jewel, of course you are frightened, but I will not excuse you this lesson. Only when you have felt the pain can you be truly afraid. Only then will I have a deterrent to unruly behavior. Come, Muna, it will only be five strokes. Were I really punishing you it would be twenty or more, depending upon your offense." He drew her down to the rug, kneeling with her, positioning her with great care. Then he sat across her hips and, leaning forward, held her slender legs in a firm grasp. "Begin, Dagan," he commanded the black.

The sharpness of the first blow caused her to cry out. Over Kedar's bowed head Dagan grinned cruelly down at her as he administered the second fierce blow. This time Skye shrieked in earnest. "Please, my lord Kedar! Please, no more! No more!" Kedar was, however, a man of his word, and the third, fourth, and fifth blows fell upon the tender, now burning soles of her feet, the pain so intense that Skye fainted, taking the only escape open to her.

She was unconscious but a few moments, awakening to Kedar's purring voice. “There, my jewel, now you know the price of offending me, do you not?"

"Yes, my lord," she managed to whisper.

"Repeat the words I taught you last night, fair Muna."

Skye shivered. She knew exactly what he wanted her to say, and every fiber of her being rebelled against saying those words. Still, she was now quite terrified of the bastinado, and realized that should she really displease him, he would not hesitate for a moment to use it again. She rolled onto her stomach, and from there into a kneeling position, her dark head touching the rug. "I am my lord Kedar's slave," she said low. "I exist solely for his pleasure."

Above her, Kedar smiled, satisfied, and raised her up to face him. "You learn quickly, my jewel," he said approvingly. "I believe you will eventually become my favorite." Tenderly he brushed a tear from her cheek. “There now, fair Muna, there is naught to cry about. You please me mightily." He smiled down on her, and then drew her over to the awninged couch. She was shivering with shock, and he pulled her gently down upon the couch with him, wrapping his arms around her. "Dagan, fetch refreshments," he commanded his slave.

Skye was suddenly very aware of her nudity. "Please, my lord, may I have my garment?"

"Do not be embarrassed before Dagan, my jewel. It means nothing to him, and I prefer you like this for now." He kissed her lightly, absently caressing her breasts. "You are so beautiful," he murmured. "Your skin is so flawless, so perfect."

They were words she was to hear over and over again during the next few weeks. She fascinated and consumed him with her beauty. He cared for nothing else. He rarely spoke to her on any subject of importance; his words being those of her master, her lover. Her days took on a pattern of sameness. She slept the morning away, went to him in early afternoon after visiting the baths, left in late afternoon, slept again, bathed, ate supper alone or with Alima, and sometimes Osman, then awaited Kedar's return from his business and social rounds late in the evening. She then spent the entire night with him, departing in early morning for her own rooms. As a lover, he was insatiable, and totally unlike any man she had ever known. He cared only for his own pleasure, and took her with great gusto at least three times each night, and very often as many as six. He never seemed to tire of exploring, caressing, and kissing her.

Skye was frankly frightened of Kedar. He was a man of mercurial temperament, and she feared offending him. The threat of the bastinado was a real and terrifying one to her. Still, she sought ways in which to intrigue him, for she did not want him to grow bored with her. She found that quick changes of mood on her part interested him greatly; and so she was shy one moment, daring the next. She knew he particularly enjoyed her reactions to his lovemaking, and so even when he moved too quickly to arouse her she pretended great passion. It stroked his ego, and he rumbled his contentment like the great cat she pictured him. "You are perfection,'' he would murmur against her ear. "Sweet, honeyed perfection!" More often than not she would shiver at his words.

The day before they left Algiers for Fez, Osman came to Skye's chambers in the women's quarters. He felt some guilt for the faint purple circles under her eyes, but there was a new air of determination about her that he had never seen before. "I have had word from Hamal, my daughter. He says you are to come ahead. Your Niall still lives."

“Thank God!" Skye breathed fervently.

"Skye," it was the first time he had called her by her own name in weeks. "I am quite frankly worried about your effect upon Kedar. If you had set out to enchant him-and I know you have not-you could not have done a better job of it. He can speak of nothing but you and your beauty when he is with me. If I did not know better I should say he is falling in love with you, and that, my daughter, must not happen! I knew his reputation, of course, but frankly, until now I was not fully aware of his appetites. I wonder if I have not set you too hard a task."

"You have said it yourself, Osman. There is no other choice. Niall is alive, and I will not rest until I have freed him. How could I, knowing what I know, return to my former life? There is only one way to Fez for me, and I am already on that road. Why do you fret so? Have my stars changed suddenly, Osman?"

"No, they have not changed. You will always attain your heart's desire, Skye, though the road to it be roughly paved, though you yourself may not even know what it is you want. In the end you will gain your goals. In this have you been singularly blessed."

“Then tomorrow I leave for Fez," Skye said quietly.

"Does he abuse you?" Osman flushed at the boldness of his own words to her, but he was truly distressed at the situation in which he had placed her. He had never seen his nephew so consumed by anything, let alone a woman. Then, too, Alima had mentioned that Skye had an occasional bruise, and marks on her body that might possibly indicate that Kedar was mistreating her.

"Your nephew is enthusiastic in his wooing of me," Skye said wryly. "No, he has not actually hurt me, although he has threatened me with the bastinado should I misbehave. He illustrated that threat with a sample of that particular punishment. He does not, you see, want to mark my skin with a lash. His small lesson was a warning that my behavior should always be decorous. I will admit, Osman, that he frightens me."

"Allah curse him! I shall speak to him this day, my daughter." Osman was angry, and his eyes blazed as Skye had never seen them blaze, for he had always been a gentle man toward her.

"Osman!" Her voice was tight with warning. "You cannot tell him how to treat his possession, and you know it. You presented me to him as a gift, and you know that the only justice for a slave is that which the master gives. Right now Kedar, for all his fierceness, adores me, but he is not stupid. Interfere and he will wonder why. He might even grow jealous, and I dare not have that."

Osman sighed, resigned. "You are correct, my daughter. I have allowed my paternal feelings for you to cloud my own judgment. Do not fear, Skye. Whatever happens I will get you out of Fez when you choose to leave. I will not permit you to languish in my nephew's harem. That is most certainly not your fate!"

Skye gave him a mischievous smile that touched his heart. He had not seen her smile in some days now. "I should hope not, my old friend, although, quite frankly, I will welcome reaching Kedar's harem. Perhaps when he has all his women available to him again he will not use me so ffequently. I never thought to grow tired of lovemaking, Osman, but, dear Heaven, I have! Your nephew's prowess is surely unequaled for he can make love the entire night without ceasing, and seems not to suffer from the lack of sleep as I certainly do!"

Osman shook his head sympathetically. "It is said that he had his first woman at the age of ten. My late sister was shocked, but her husband thought it a marvelous thing to have sired so randy an heir, especially since Kedar was his only child at the time."

"Does Kedar have any children?" Skye asked. "He never speaks of his women, but then he rarely speaks with me at all except to command me to his will."

"Although he has no wives, he does have several offspring, but unlike most Fasi men, he seems to care little for them. I don't even think that he could tell you their names, ages, or sex. He does not care for children, I believe." Osman decided it would be wise to say nothing of the fact that Kedar had confided in his uncle that he wished to have children by Muna. Skye had enough to worry about, and as long as she had her special potion she would not conceive. "You do have your special potion?" he asked her worriedly. "Do you have enough to last you several months, my daughter?"

"I have just made a fresh batch. Kedar allowed me to go with Alima to the marketplace, and I was able to obtain the ingredients that I need. It looks and smells like a fragrance, and will be thought to be such, Osman.

"It amused Kedar to let me visit the market. He loved the idea that I might wander at will and no one would know what a 'delicious morsel' I am, to quote him. No one can tell who I am when I am dressed in my yashmak and veiled. Kedar tells me the marketplaces in Fez are legendary."

"You will enjoy them, my daughter. The merchant in you will delight at the variety of goods available. Remember to buy with an open hand. You are the favorite of the lord Kedar, and he will be generous with you. Buy gifts for the other women and children in the harem often, and you will quickly make friends."

"I am not going to Fez to make friends, Osman."

"Nonetheless you do not want to make enemies of any of Kedar's other women. Women can be vicious when jealous, my daughter. Have you so quickly forgotten Yasmin? Be charming and friendly, and above all be generous. You do not know when you will need a friend, even in Kedar's harem."

"None of his women would dare to betray him, Osman. He is a man quick to punish an offense real or imagined. And no one will risk his lash for me, be I generous or not. He beat one of his favorites to death, you know. Still, I will take your advice and be friendly."

"I will rest easier knowing that, Skye," was Osman's reply. He rose up from the divan as she did, and taking her hands in his said, "Go with Allah's blessing, my daughter. He will not fail to hear your prayers, for your mission is a just one. One bit of advice, and one only I give to you. Consider carefully before you act. Do not allow fear or enthusiasm to drive you to any rashness. You will survive!"

She looked into his wonderful and mysterious eyes, and for a brief moment she felt swept away. She knew as she gazed into their depths that she would indeed survive, and something akin to exultation poured over her. She would succeed in her rescue of Niall! They would return home to Ireland, and happily raise their children as they grew old together! Skye found her voice. 'Thank you, Osman, my old friend. Thank you!" Putting her arms about his neck, she kissed him on the cheek.

The astrologer actually blushed, but nonetheless he hugged her back. Then without another word he left her. "Farewell, my friend," she called after him, and Osman turned. The look in his eyes was a tender one. "Farewell, my daughter," he answered softly. As she watched him go Skye wondered if she should ever see him again after she departed Algiers tomorrow.

Despite the fact that they were to leave for Fez in the very early morning, Kedar did not change his habits at all that night. If anything, his excitement over leaving Algiers increased his appetite for Skye… He loved to lie nude, propped up by the multicolored pillows, his legs spread, while she knelt between his limbs, her buttocks on her heels, her arms out for balance, her long dark hair loose about her. His hands would hold his penis up while she would administer to him with her mouth, her tongue, her little teeth. Soon he would have no need to brace his manhood, and she would obediently roll onto her back to receive him.

When he had taken her three times that night she dared to beg him, "No more, my lord, else I cannot rise to leave for Fez."

A growl of laughter was his answer, but he left her alone to sleep on the pillow below his couch until just before the dawn, when his foot prodded her awake. In a surprisingly thoughtful gesture, he said, "If you wish to bathe, Muna, go now and do so. There will be little chance for a civilized bath for the next month. Occasionally we may camp by a spring, but unless I can guarantee you total privacy you will not be able to avail yourself of it."

Skye scrambled to her feet. "Thank you, my lord," she said, catching up her caftan and putting it about her as she hurried from the room lest he change his mind and his lust get the better of him.

"Wait!"

She turned, thinking, Dear God, not again.

"I have a small gift for you," he said. "When you have bathed be sure to put it on." He held out an object.

"Thank you, my lord," she said softly as she took it. "A bracelet. How lovely!"

"No, an anklet. I had it specially made for you. Once you put it on it cannot be removed except it be cut off. Go now!"

Skye left the room fingering the anklet as she went. It was a slender circle of pure gold, engraved with several Arabic letters and a delicate geometric pattern. Here and there amid the pattern was a tiny sapphire imbedded in the gold. It was really quite beautiful.

Hurrying to her room, she awoke her own slave woman, Zada, and sent her off to instruct the bath woman Nigera and her helpers. Zada had been her first gift from Kedar. He had escorted her, properly garbed so that only the merest slit of her eyes showed, to the slave market to purchase a servant for her. He had thought to buy her a European woman so she would not be lonely. It had been a very kind gesture on his part, but Skye had insisted she preferred a young Arab girl. Had he insisted upon the European, she would have felt guilty leaving the woman in in Fez when she and Niall escaped. The Arab girl, however, would be reassigned a new mistress and no harm would be done.

"They await you in the baths, mistress." Zada had returned.

Skye nodded, and went off to bathe. When she returned Zada had laid out the garments in which she would travel. Silently she put on the long, cream-colored silk chemise, a pale-beige djellabah embroidered in brown silk thread and tiny topaz, and soft, brown kidskin slippers. The djellabah was hooded, and had long sleeves. Before Zada raised the hood and fastened the gold gauze veil across Skye's face, she brushed her mistress's long dark hair and dressed it with narrow gold ribbons in the single braid that Skye favored. "Go to my lord Kedar," Skye said, "and say that I beg his permission because of the heat of the day to put aside my yashmak."

Zada obediently followed her mistress's instructions, and returned several minutes later to say, “The master says you must wear the yashmak as far as the cart. You may remove it before you enter the vehicle, but not until then."

"Very well," Skye answered. "Fetch the lady Alima to me now, Zada. I would say my good-byes."

Zada once more hurried out, returning several minutes later with Alima. Skye then dismissed the slave girl, telling her to see to her own last-minute preparations. "I think she spies for Dagan, who reports everything I do to Kedar," Skye said, amused.

"He is so frighteningly possessive of you," Alima returned. "Must you go, my lady Skye?" Alima spoke French so that anyone listening would not understand her words.

“There is no other way for me, Alima. If Osman were in the same position as my husband is, would you not try to aid him? How can I return to my home knowing that Niall is alive. How can I face our children with such knowledge on my conscience. Better they lose both of us than I return to them leaving their father behind in bondage."

"You love him very much, don't you?"

"Yes, Alima. I love Niall with every fiber of my being! I will not rest until we are safely together again."

"Be careful, my lady Skye," Alima begged her. "Make no move unless you are absolutely certain that Kedar will not catch you. He is a very cruel man, as you already have learned."

"Yes," Skye said, shuddering as she remembered the bastinado. "He is very cruel. Yet, Alima, he can also be kind. See the anklet that he had made for me? It is quite lovely." Skye handed the narrow golden circle to Alima. "You read Arabic. What has he written on it?"

Alima took the anklet and studied it carefully. As her eyes moved across the Arabic script her face darkened. "He is a beast!" she muttered. "He makes a charming gesture, and then ruins it with his ego!"

"What does it say?" Skye demanded.

Alima looked up at Skye, and said quietly, "It says Muna, Property of Kedar."

"I will not wear it!" Skye stormed.

"You have no choice, my lady," Alima said sadly. "It is the bracelet of a privileged slave. Once you fasten the clasp about your ankle the only way you will be able to remove it is if a goldsmith saws it off." She handed Skye back the anklet.

Skye's eyes were dark with anger, and she longed to throw the offending gold circle onto the nearest trash heap. She knew, however, that she dare not. Bending down, she fastened the bracelet about her right ankle. She knew the punishment for offending Kedar, and she had no wish to ever taste the bastinado again.

As she rose up again her eyes met the sympathetic ones of Alima. "You are far braver than I could ever be," Osman's wife said.

Skye shrugged. "As you have said, I have no choice."

"Mistress, it is time to go." Zada had materialized from wherever she had been.

"Get the yashmak then, Zada. Hurry! We must not keep the master waiting." She looked at Alima, and there was mischief in her blue-green eyes again. "You don't think she speaks French, do you?"

Alima laughed. "Never. She's just a little Berber girl, one of too many daughters in her family. They sold her off. That's what she told Nigera." Then Alima's face grew serious and, stepping forward, she hugged Skye hard. "Be careful, my lady, and Allah go with you!"

Skye hugged Osman's wife back. "I shall endeavor to be careful, Alima. Thank you for all your hospitality, and don't stop your prayers, I beg you. I shall need them!"

Then Zada was busding about her, importantly pulling up the hood of the djellabah, fastening the veil about her face, helping her into a black silk yashmak whose hood fell to just below her eyebrows, and adding a second black silk veil.

"You will smother me," Skye protested.

"Dagan says the master insists you be properly veiled," was the prim reply.

Skye gritted her teeth and grew silent. There was no arguing, for although she was Kedar's favorite concubine, she was as much a slave as Zada and Dagan. There was no appeal of the master's word. She stood quietly while the slave girl went about the job of thoroughly muffling her, and when Zada had finished Skye looked to Alima, merriment suddenly filling her eyes at the silliness of the situation. "I don't know who he thinks will see me between here and your courtyard that I must be so encased," Skye said in French.

"It is simply another instance of his impressing his will upon you, my lady Skye," was the answer.

"We must not keep the master waiting," Zada said.

Skye and Alima embraced a final time, and then Skye followed her slave girl from the bedchamber, through the house that had once been hers, and into the main courtyard, where Kedar's vast caravan was nearly assembled. The Fasi merchant had brought a rich cargo to Algiers from the interior, and now he was returning with an equally lavish one. There were numerous pack animals, donkeys, and camels, all laden down with the goods. The train was to be escorted by a large group of armed and mounted mercenaries who had come from Fez with Kedar, and would now return with him.

The caravan would travel at a brisk pace during the day, but at night they would stop and set up their tents in order to eat and rest the animals. They would travel approximately twenty miles each day, following the caravan track that led through a narrow piece of land that was bordered by the Adas Mountains. It was dangerous by virtue of the bandits who preyed upon poorly guarded caravans. Kedar had never lost so much as a camel in all his years of traveling the route, for he was willing to spend the monies necessary to hire enough guards to protect him and his goods. It was a poor economy, Kedar believed, to stint on protection only to lose a valuable cargo.

Skye traveled in a covered cart drawn by two sturdy donkeys. The inside of the vehicle had been quilted in red silk and fitted with two dark blue pallets. Dagan drove while Skye was forced to remain within the cart with Zada. Her only escape from total boredom was the opportunity to look out through the gauze drapery veiling over the back of the cart. When she became tired of sight-seeing she could sleep. She had little in common with Zada, whose only concern in life seemed to be beautifying her mistress in order to retain Kedar's devotion so they both might get ahead in the harem. Zada often sat up front with Dagan, chatting for hours with him about Kedar's house in Fez.

Dagan believed he saw the handwriting on the wall. Never in his ten years with his master had he seen Kedar so obsessed with anything, let alone a woman. This one, Dagan decided, could end up being Kedar's first and only wife. Consequently he took the time to make friends with the ambitious Zada. Best to have a friend in the future mistress's camp. Even Kedar might be softened and influenced by a wife.

The trip gave Skye some respite from Kedar's possessive passion, for she only saw him for a short time each night. During the day he rode at the head of his caravan, his sharp hazel-colored eyes watching the hills around them and the trail ahead, never missing anything. He ate the midday meal with his men, although sometimes he would come by her cart afterward to see that all was well with his beautiful slave. He ate his evening meal alone, or with one of the senior men among his mercenaries. When the camp was quiet for the night, the fires burning in lonely splendor and the pickets alert and watchful, then would Kedar take his own pleasure.

In a curtained-off portion of Kedar's tent they slept upon soft down and feather mattresses covered in scarlet velvet. Having eaten alone herself, and then washed in a small wooden tub as best she might, Skye was expected to await her master within the alcove. When he came he would take her twice, and then fall immediately into a deep sleep. For Skye it was a relief, for Kedar's only interest was in satisfying his natural and normal lust with these brief encounters. She might have been anyone, and his attitude gave her hope that his desire for her was now waning as they grew nearer Fez, and his large harem.

When they were a week from their destination they met with another party of heavily guarded merchants coming from Fez and going to the coast. Most of the men were known to Kedar, and it was decided that they would eat together that night. Already several young kids had been butchered, and were roasting over the cookfires. They had met up with the other group in late afternoon, and so had stopped early, setting up their tents in an open place by a cold mountain stream. Skye was allowed to bathe in the stream, and she delightedly washed her long hair which, despite Zada's care and brushing, was filled with trail dust. Even the prissy Zada was pleased, and afterward brushed attar of roses into Skye's damp tresses.

They returned the few feet to the tent to find Kedar awaiting them. His eyes swept over her, lighting with pleasure at the cloud-soft billow of her fragrant hair. "I want you to dance for my guests tonight," he said. "Do you know the Dance of the Veils?"

"Yes, my lord." Skye was extremely surprised. He was always so strict about shielding her from other men's eyes, and yet he was now asking her to dance before his friends.

"You will dance it then, my jewel, and wear your hair loose like it is now."

"My lord, do you think it wise to display me before others?"

"Are you questioning me, Muna?" His voice was suddenly menacing.

"My lord, I only thought…" she began.

" You thought? Slaves do not think, Muna. They obey, and although I have given you an order, you are attempting to defy me."

"No, no, my lord! I would not disobey you, I swear it!" Skye was becoming frightened now, and she desperately attempted to placate him. He was in one of those moods where the least thing set him off.

"I think, my jewel, that you need a lesson in deportment." Reaching out, he trailed his fingers in leisurely fashion down her cheek, but his eyes were cold with anger. "You have displeased me, Muna."

Skye shuddered at his touch, and beside her she heard Zada suck in her breath. "Please, my lord!" she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

"Dagan! Get the rods." His voice was toneless.

Skye's heart began to hammer wildly, and she slid to her knees, reaching out to wrap herself about his legs. "Please, my lord, not the bastinado! I am my lord Kedar's slave. I exist solely for his pleasure! Please, my lord!" Her voice was frantic with pleading, but in her heart Skye hated Kedar with every fiber of her being. She wanted to take a knife and plunge it into his heart! That he could torture her so cruelly both mentally and physically was appalling to her. Niall! She silently cried out to him. Niall!

Kedar shook himself loose of her clinging arms. She was pulled roughly to her feet, and her caftan ripped off, exposing her nudity beneath. Then she was once more slammed down on her back upon the floor of the tent. Two slaves were called to hold her shoulders and arms down, and a round ottoman piled with pillows was shoved against her to force her long legs upward. Two additional slaves were called to hold her legs steady, and Zada was ordered to sit across her mistress's hips to hold her down. Skye was already sobbing with terror, and being so successfully immobilized frightened her even more. "Pl-please, m-my lord!" she begged him once more.

"Dagan, begin the punishment," came Kedar's cold voice.

“Twenty strokes, my lord?" Dagan asked.

Kedar debated for a moment with himself, and then he said, "Fifteen. I am of a mind to be merciful, and it is her first offense."

"Please, no, my lord!" Skye was growing frantic now.

Kedar nodded to Dagan and the rod descended. A piteous shriek sounded throughout the camp, followed by several others in fairly quick succession. When she fainted to elude the pain she was almost brutally revived, the bastinadoing stopped until she was fully conscious once more. Then it began again, and Skye felt the pain sweep from the burning soles of her tortured feet up her legs almost to her hips. Pinioned down, she still fought them, begging and pleading with Kedar for the mercy she knew he was not going to give her. Yet she continued to cry out to him in the vain hope that she could touch some cord within him. She struggled to stay conscious lest she offend him further and prolong her punishment

Sitting astride her hips, Zada whispered to her the number of strokes. "Eleven. Twelve. Courage, mistress! Fourteen. Fifteen!"

It was over. The hold on her arms, shoulders, and legs was re leased, and Zada arose. With a sob Skye curled herself into a tight ball upon the rug, and wept desperately. Suddenly with frightening awareness she realized that all about her was quiet. Slowly she raised her head. Dagan, Zada, and the other slaves were gone. Only Kedar remained, and the light in his eyes was unmistakable. Dear God, she thought horrified, he couldn't!

"Do you know how much I want you. Muna." he whispered hoarsely. "Dear Allah, how I want you now!" He knelt by her side, fumbling eagerly for her lush breasts, and she knew that she dare not refuse him. Kedar pushed Skye onto her back again and, pulling his robes up, thrust quickly into her. He pounded against her all the while telling her how she excited him, how watching her being beaten had made his passion rise to the point where he could not deny himself her body. Then without warning he poured himself into her, and fell upon her breasts panting. They lay that way together for several long minutes, and then Kedar recovered himself. Standing up, he looked down at her and said, "You will dance for my guests tonight, Muna. See that you are ready when I call you to me."

She nodded at him, her beautiful blue eyes still wet with her pain and her shame as he strode from the tent. Skye pulled herself up, crying out softly at the pain she felt in her feet, and then Zada was there to help her.

"I have something that will take the pain away, mistress. Dagan brought it to me. He begs your forgiveness."

"He enjoyed it, the brute!" Skye accused.

"No, no, mistress! Dagan would be your friend," Zada assured her as she helped Skye into the privacy of the sleeping alcove.

Skye glowered at the girl. Naturally Dagan would be her friend if he thought that Skye had Kedar's ear. Well, at least his eagerness to be friendly proved to Skye that her position with Kedar was a strong one.

"How lord Kedar loves you!" Zada enthused.

"In my country we do not beat the women we love," Skye muttered irritably.

"Here, we do!" Zada grinned broadly at her. "And then to mate with you afterward! What a man he is! How I wish a man like that had carried me off before my family sold me, but then I am not beautiful like you, mistress. Lie back now and let me put the salve Dagan gave me on your poor feet."

"Will it ease the pain? The lord Kedar commands that I dance this evening."

"You will dance. Never fear, mistress. The master has given orders that you rest, and be fed the choicest part of the kid and other delicacies."

“The veils, Zada. You will have to seek among my things for them."

"The colors, mistress?"

"Black. All black, the better to show off my skin; the black ones with the bits of gold thread shot through them, Zada."

Zada nodded and then knelt to gently smooth the ointment that Dagan had told her to use over Skye's poor red feet. When she had finished, she covered Skye with a light wool coverlet and hurried off to find the veils. Suddenly exhausted, Skye quickly slipped into sleep.

She rested for just over an hour, and then Zada was gently shaking her awake. The slave girl had brought her a plate filled with succulent pieces of roasted kid, small grilled onions and pieces of green pepper, freshly baked flat bread, and a goblet of icy mountain water flavored with orange syrup. Sitting up, Skye found she felt better. She was hungry, and the burning pain in her feet was greatly eased. She finished everything on the plate, and then Zada brought her a small dish of sweetmeats.

"Dagan prepared these especially for you, mistress," she said.

Skye looked at the plump, moist apricots filled with a mixture of chopped and honied nuts, and the colorful jellies that smelled of vanilla, cinnamon, and almond. They were beautiful, and looked absolutely delicious. Skye reached out and took a red jelly, which she popped into her mouth. 'This is marvelous," she said, quite pleased. 'Tell Dagan I thank him for such delicacies." She ate a second jelly, and then one of the apricots.

"I will go and prepare your bath," Zada said.

Skye lay back munching contentedly upon another apricot and several more jellies. How kind of Dagan to go to such trouble for her, for how, out here along this ancient camel track, he had managed to prepare such delights she couldn't imagine. Perhaps he was not the villain she had branded him. She was beginning to feel quite relaxed and filled with goodwill by the time that Zada returned.

"I have prepared your bath, mistress," Zada said, "and afterward the master has ordered that Dagan massage your body."

"If I get any more relaxed," Skye remarked, "I shall fall asleep."

"It is the jellies, mistress."

"What is in them?" Suddenly Skye wondered if this was some other nasty plot of Kedar's.

“They are made with hashish, mistress. It comes from a plant, at least the tops of a plant. It won't hurt you. Our people have used it for many years, and it's only to make you feel good."

"Eat one!" Skye commanded.

"Oh, may I?" Zada's brown eyes were round with delight, and she quickly popped a green jelly into her mouth before Skye might change her mind. “Thank you, mistress!"

Skye rose to her feet feeling somewhat dizzy, but her mind, though fuzzy, said, If Zada eats them they aren't poison.

"No more now, my lady," Zada chided her. "Save them until just before you must dance. They will inspire you."

Zada helped Skye into the small wooden tub, and Skye noted that tonight the water smelled of roses and musk. She sat quietly as the slave girl pinned up her long hair and gently washed her. Zada worked quickly, and then as quickly dried her mistress. Leading her back to the velvet mattress, she instructed Skye, "Lie upon your belly so Dagan may begin the massage."

I don't want Dagan to massage me, Skye thought in the fuzzy recesses of her benumbed brain, but she couldn't seem to say it aloud. Then she felt the black's supple fingers upon her body, and she didn't care any longer.

Dagan dug his long fingers into her soft flesh with a practiced skill. His clever hands smoothed over her skin with a firm but gentle touch. Up and down her back, her legs and buttocks, her shoulders and arms, her feet. Together he and Zada rolled Skye onto her back, and then Dagan massaged her belly and her breasts, the fronts of her legs and her feet, and shoulders, and arms. Through her foggy consciousness Skye protested, but the black seemed to consider touching her a job, perhaps even a boring job, and nothing more.

When he had finished they let her rest a few minutes, and she floated deliciously through them. She had never felt more relaxed, more sensual. Her head finally cleared just as Zada said, "It is time to dress you, mistress," and helped Skye to her feet. The slave woman clasped a delicate gold chain made of tiny, flat, filigreed links just below Skye's hips. To it she attached three sheer silk veils on each side of Skye, a larger veil in back over her buttocks, and one the same size that hung to her ankles in front. Then, while Skye stood silently, Zada outlined her eyes in blue kohl and painted her nipples in carmine. Her whole body was tingling, and reeked of roses and musk. As Zada brushed her hair with a brush dipped in musk, she said, "Would you like another of the jellies, mistress? Best to have them now, for you will soon dance."

Skye popped several more of the sweetmeats into her mouth, licking her fingers to remove the sticky residuc. The euphoria began to return, and Skye suddenly realized that whatever it was that they had put into the confections-hashish, Zada had called it- was most definitely responsible. Every movement she made now seemed exaggerated and sweeping. Zada fastened a small chain about Skye's neck, and to it she attached a veil that fell over her breasts and down past her waist. Another veil covered her shoulders and back, and an even longer one was placed across her face. Zada's lithe hands moved suggestively over Skye's body, fluffing and positioning the veils so they would float correctly.

"You are so beautiful, mistress," she murmured. "You are like a goddess belonging to the old ones. Every man who sees you dance will want you. That is what the master desires, to be the envy of his friends. You must dance your best so that they all lust for you." Zada caressed Skye's breasts and belly and buttocks, her hands moving swiftly, and her words and her movements began to communicate themselves to Skye's blurred and confused mind.

She felt a tingling between her legs, and her beautiful breasts began to almost ache with their tightness. Outside in the main portion of the tent she began to hear music, and with a sly smile Zada fitted her fingers with the four shiny brass tals. "Go," she whispered in Skye's ear. "Go, and drive them wild with your beauty and sensuality. Our lord Kedar will be pleased." Skye stepped out from behind the curtained alcove and walked across the tent to prostrate herself before Kedar.

"Rise, Muna," he commanded her, his hazel eyes quickly taking in the black veils with their tiny golden stars. It was a perfect costume for her, her white limbs glowing mysteriously through the dark silk. 'This, my friends, is the magnificent gift that my uncle, the famous Osman, presented to me on my arrival in Algiers. She has easily become my favorite, even though there is a tiny streak of willfulness in her that needs curbing."

"A little spice never hurt a tasty dish, Kedar," remarked a black-bearded man, and the other guests chuckled.

"In that case, Hamid, it is fortunate I am fond of spicy food," Kedar replied, and the chuckles became guffaws of laughter.

Skye let her misty eyes wander about the group that sat eating about a low table. There were seven or eight men, but she could not seem to concentrate upon them or upon much of anything else for that matter. She could still feel Zada's hands lightly brushing her, and rather than repel her the way a woman's touch always had, Skye felt sexually aroused and her passion seemed to be growing instead of fading.

"Dance, Muna!" She heard the command in the murky recesses of her cloudy mind. "Dance for us, my jewel!"

The three musicians began to play, and almost instantly the throb of the drum and the whine of the reed pipes began to communicate themselves to her. Skye began to dance slowly, her body weaving sensuously in time to the music. For some minutes she wove and bobbed across the floor in front of them, and then as the music began to increase in tempo she started to remove her veils.

Kedar and his guests had been watching with mild interest, but now they eagerly leaned forward, fascinated. The six side veils were quickly disposed of, as was the long head veil, and her long hair swung out and floated free with her erotic motions. The music grew more intense as the back and breast veils were tossed aside. Only three veils remained, the two covering her lower limbs and her face veil. Arms outstretched, Skye danced, first thrusting her lush breasts forward, and then pushing out her hips in an obvious and suggestive movement. Around and around she twirled as the tempo of the music grew faster and faster. Kedar chuckled softly to himself as Skye removed the last three veils, for he noted that several of his guests had slipped their hands beneath their robes to discreetly ease their longings.

Now Skye, totally nude, moved closer to Kedar and his guests. Teasingly she clanged the brass tals beneath their noses as she dipped and swooped, almost brushing several of them with her full, red-nippled breasts. She was lost in a hazy world of her own, and only the insistent beat of the drum, the nasal shriek of the reeds, and the erotic movement of her own hungry body held any meaning for her. The men who sat watching were filled with fierce lust for her, the ripe rose musk scent of her voluptuous body, the dance itself; but obedient to the tempo, Skye was aware of nothing but herself. As the music reached a wild crescendo Skye twirled in the final amorous and sexually impassioned movements of the dance before falling to the floor before Kedar, her beautiful body posed in a gesture of total submission to the master.

Kedar's guests roared their approval, clapping and shouting, tossing gold coins and small jewels at her. With eyes wide Skye looked up at Kedar, who was beaming with approval at her. 'Take the tributes, my jewel. You have earned them this night."

“They are not half worthy of her, Kedar," said the man named Hamid. "I do not expect you want to sell her, but should you ever grow tired of her I will pay you whatever you desire. She is indeed exquisite."

Skye did not stay to hear any more, but quickly gathered up the tribute showered upon her by Kedar's friends, for to leave it would have been terribly insulting. Then she fled back across the tent floor to the alcove. Suddenly she felt depressed, as if she might cry. Dagan and Zada were awaiting her, the former grinning broadly, the latter chattering delightedly. She gave them each a gold coin, but as she did so Zada noted her sad face and looked quickly to Dagan.

“The master will come soon to pleasure himself, and he will not be pleased to find her weeping," she hissed at the black eunuch.

"Come, mistress," Dagan murmured soothingly, and drew her down upon the velvet mattress again. "Let me rub away the tension you have built up during your dance." He knelt and began to massage her feet, which had begun to ache once more. "Give her the sweetmeats, little fool!" he snapped at Zada. "We have not much time, and she must be eager and ready for the lord Kedar."

"Here, dearest lady Muna," Zada said sweetly, "eat, and all will be well again, I promise you. Oh, how marvelous you were when you danced! We could both see how pleased the master is with you." Zada gently forced several small jellies into Skye's mouth, and then began to caress her breasts. As quickly as the depression had come upon her it began to slide away beneath the tender ministrations of the two slaves. Zada's hand brushed across Skye's belly, and Skye felt her own desires beginning to stir again. Beyond the curtained alcove Zada and Dagan could hear Kedar bidding his guests a jovial goodnight, and they hurried to prepare Skye for him.

Zada leaned over and began to whisper softly and suggestively into Skye's ear. She knew that the hashish in the sugary confections Dagan had prepared had already loosened Skye's inhibitions once this evening. Now just a little bit of suggestion, and she would eagerly welcome the master. "Only a moment more, my lady Muna," she murmured, "and the lord Kedar will come to you." Zada fondled Skye's breasts gently. "Soon the master will fill you full with his fine big manhood. The pleasure will be magnificent, won't it? Allah, how I wish I might lie beneath him while he pumped himself into me! How fortunate you are, my lady Muna."

"Yes," Skye breathed, "oh, yes! Quickly, Zada, remove the stain from my nipples. My lord Kedar loves to nurse upon my breasts, and I would not poison him." Skye was beginning to feel hot with her longing to be possessed by Kedar. God, how she wanted his bigness inside her, and she wanted it now! He was like a mighty stallion, his stamina being so great. With a smug smile of satisfaction Zada wiped Skye's nipples free of red stain. Skye was already writhing with anticipation. None of them heard Kedar enter the alcove.

For a long moment he stood watching as his favorite black massaged and soothed Skye's feet; as Zada erased the last traces of red from Skye's lush breasts; as Skye herself moved upon the velvet mattress in love's rhythm. He could see that they had drugged her, and he smiled, amused. He liked it that his slaves were so eager to please him, but now he wanted them gone. He was already hard and aching beneath his robes. "Disrobe me!" he snapped, and both Zada and Dagan leapt to their feet to remove his few garments. "Find your own beds," he commanded them, and without even waiting to see them gone, he lay down next to Skye.

"My lord," Skye said softly, turning to face him.

He pulled her into his arms to kiss her, and she obediently opened her mouth to receive his tongue, sucking upon it in a most ardent and suggestive fashion. Her hips glued themself against him, and as he was unwilling to wait any longer to satisfy himself, he rolled her over and thrust into her. To his delight, she gave a soft shriek and climaxed immediately.

"What a hot and wanton bitch you are, my jewel," he purred at her. "Did you enjoy displaying your bounteous charms tonight to my friends?"

“There was no one for me but you, my lord Kedar," she panted beneath him. "No one!”

"Ahh," he rumbled, "if I thought that you were lying to me, my fair Muna, I should kill you now, but I know that you are not." His big body moved hungrily and insistently upon her until she was moaning and pleading once more for release, a release it did not yet suit him to give her. For some time he used her, turning her body this way and that in order to enter her from different angles, offering pleasure one moment, pain the next. It was the pain that finally began to clear away the cobwebs of the drug, and Skye realized with shock and self-loathing that she had been encouraging Kedar in a most salacious and lascivious manner. She dared not cease at this point, for she was frankly terrified of offending him. She never again wanted to suffer the tortures of the bastinado as she had this afternoon, and so she continued to behave in a lewd and eager manner until with a grunt he released his seed into her. Then he rolled over and began to snore.

Skye gave a soft sigh of relief. She was furious at herself for not having realized that she was being drugged. Now her mouth felt dry, but at least her heart rate was beginning to slow down from its fevered pitch of a few minutes ago. She rose from their bed, and went across the alcove to pour herself some freshly squeezed fruit juice. As she drank it thirstily, she vowed she would never be given hashish again. She would flatter Kedar into believing that it was an insult to him to feed her the stuff; she did not need such things to increase her ardor and natural passion for him. With a small giggle Skye drank another goblet of the fruit juice. Then, suddenly beginning to feel very relaxed, she returned to the mattress, where she quickly fell asleep.

In the early morning as they sat eating sticky sweet figs, and drinking boiling, bitter coffee, Skye said slyly, "I am glad that you are not angry with Dagan and Zada, my lord. They only did it in their efforts to please you."

"Did what, my jewel?" Kedar was instantly alert.

"Fed me the hashish in an effort to stimulate my senses." She laughed a tinkling, light laugh. "As if I needed any other stimulation than your look, or touch, my lord; but then they did not mean to be offensive to your manhood. They only meant to please you." She licked her fingers delicately. "I will go and dress, my lord, so I do not keep the caravan waiting." With a sweet smile to him, Skye arose and began to pull on her clothing.

"Dagan!" Kedar's voice was sharp, and Skye hid a smile. Her barb had obviously found its mark.

"My lord?" Dagan appeared from the other side of the tent.

"Did you feed Muna hashish last night?"

"Yes, my lord. I made her the jellied confections so dearly loved by the ladies of your harem. Since she had earlier defied my master I hoped to make her more willing to dance. I would not allow her to disgrace you, my lord."

"Your motives were good," Kedar said, "but never feed Muna any of your little potions again, Dagan. Giving her the drug implies that I am not man enough to inspire her. You did not mean that now, did you?” Kedar's voice had grown menacing.

"No, no, my lord!" Dagan had felt Kedar's lash too often to court his anger now. He fell to his knees. "Pardon, my lord! I only sought to please you!"

"Only the fact that we cannot tarry in this place saves both you and that busybody Zada from a beating. Be grateful for my mercy, and do not rouse my displeasure again."

“Thank you, master, thank you!" Dagan babbled, backing from the alcove.

Kedar turned to Skye. Her expression was bland and totally disinterested. Demurely she raised up the pale-blue hood of her djellabah. Walking over to her, he tipped her face up to him. “There, my jewel," he said quietly, "Dagan will not feed you any of his little tasties again, but if you had simply asked me, my fair Muna, I would have happily seen to it. It was not necessary to suggest any lack of masculinity on my part. You are beautiful, and I am discovering you are clever, but you cannot hope ever to deceive me." He lightly slapped her cheek with his riding glove, holding her sapphire eyes prisoner with his strange hazel ones. "You will remember that, my jewel, won't you?"

"Yes, my lord," she said, refusing to flinch or lower her eyes to him.

Kedar smiled. "Good!" he said. "Now put on your yashmak and get to the cart."

"Yes, my lord."

He watched her go, a half-smile on his face. She was quite a puzzle, his fair Muna. Woman incarnate, she could drive him to heights he had never before attained with any other, and yet he knew that he had seen only a part of her. She had been wonderfully uninhibited last night, but that had only been the drug. He had instantly sensed when she had become aware of herself again and withdrawn from him, although she had worked very hard to conceal it. There was far more to her than she had revealed to him, and as much as he had enjoyed her lack of inhibitions last night he wanted her to have those same feelings for him within her heart and soul.

Kedar had inherited a little of his uncle's second sight, though he had never sought to develop it. Such development would have taken too much self-discipline, and he did not have the time to devote to it. Still, now and then he could accurately sense certain things or feelings in people or events. There was something special about Muna, his hidden senses told him, and he longed to know her secret. Then he laughed at himself for a fool. Muna was a totally exquisite creature whose sole reason for being was to give him pleasure. Allah had created her to be a houri on earth, and he, Kedar, was the fortunate man gifted with her. There was no more.

Outside he could hear the activity of the camp almost ready to depart. He strode from the tent so they might strike it. Immediately several men swarmed in to dismantle the shelter while both Dagan and Zada hurried out with the tent's scant furnishings packed in small trunks. Walking over to the cart where Muna had already settled herself, Kedar climbed into the vehicle.

Her eyes widened in surprise. "My lord?" she questioned him.

Settling himself next to her, Kedar reached up and loosened one side of her veil, exposing her face. His hand then reached up to cup her head and draw her toward him. He saw the pulse in her slender throat leap, and then his mouth descended upon hers. His kiss was a searing one that demanded her surrender, and her lips softened beneath his. She was breathless when he released her.

"See that your performance tonight outshines the one you offered me last night, my jewel," he said softly as he refastened her veil. Then he vaulted from the wagon, the gauze draperies fluttering lightly with his passage.

Chapter 9

Before them the city of Fez nestled and clung to a cuplike valley, descending from Fez Eldjid, the newer town on the heights of the hills, to the crowded rabbit warrens that made up the most ancient part of the city at the bottom of the valley along the river. At first approach Skye could see only a long line of tall towers and walls surrounding the city, which was seemingly invisible behind the ramparts. She shivered, wondering if once she was behind that seemingly impenetrable barrier she would be able to escape.

As they passed through a huge horseshoe gate into Fez Skye saw that, unlike the cities along the coast, Fez was a dour place. Its buildings were a dirty white with green tile roofs, and from the street the plainness of their walls was broken only by doors. There were no windows visible anywhere, and the facelessness of the structures was rather frightening. Throughout the city stands of trees-cypress, ilex, date palms, and various fruit trees-were welcome green islands dotting the hillsides that tumbled downward into the old city.

Skye would quickly discover that though none of Fez's homes had windows on the street side, the beauty and luxury of their interiors were astounding. She would also find that the wealthy now built their homes in Fez Eldjid escaping the overcrowding of the old city where the magnificent Qarawiyin Mosque, the university where Osman had taught, and all the main bazaars and markets including the famous Quaisarya, the silk market, were also located. For now, however, all that mattered was the fact that she was in Fez, and somewhere in the city Niall Burke was held. She wondered how long it would be before Kedar's young brother, Hamal, would contact her.

Kedar's home was a marvel of several connecting structures built around flowering and fountained courtyards and lush gardens. From the street it was as anonymous as all the other buildings around it, but once inside she found herself in a paradise of incredible beauty. The floors were all laid with small black and white tiles in a geometric pattern. Some of the floors were covered with thick, lush rugs in reds, blues, and golds, or blues, golds, and dark green. The walls were partially tiled in yellow, white, and black, and whitewashed above the tile except in the public rooms where the walls above the tiles had designs carved into their stone. The ceilings in all the rooms were painted magnificently in various colors, in incredible geometric patterns and designs.

Dagan had escorted Skye and Zada to the women's quarters of the house, a separate wing consisting of baths, kitchens, gardens and terraces, salons, dormitorylike bedchambers, and private bedchambers.

"How many women are there in the master's harem, Dagan?" Skye asked as they had hurried along behind him.

"I am not certain of the correct number, my lady Muna, but it is over forty, I know."

Two coal-black eunuchs pulled open a gilded wrought-iron double gate, allowing them entry into the harem area. Dagan brought them to the main salon, where at this time of day most of the women were settled chattering, sewing, playing musical instruments, or reading. At their entrance there was immediate silence and hostile eyes swung toward Skye, assessing her beauty and her worth to Kedar, and instantly classing her an enemy.

Dagan grinned delightedly to discomfit them. 'The master sends you all his greetings upon his return, ladies. This lovely creature by my side is the lady Muna, a gift to our lord Kedar from his uncle in Algiers. She is in his favor."

"Perhaps along the trail, where the only other choices were diseased nomad wenches, sheep, and camels," said a voluptuous blonde with almond-shaped black eyes. She looked insolently at Skye, and popped a small apricot into her mouth.

"How do you keep your hair that color, my dear?" Skye asked in flawless Arabic. "In my own country I had a brace of hunting dogs with fur that same hue." Her look was bold and it dared the other woman to retaliate. In a harem of this size Skye knew that only the very strong survived.

The blonde gasped and scrambled to her feet. "How dare you!" she shrieked as she leapt the small distance between Skye and herself, her fists upraised.

Skye didn't wait. Hooking her fingers into the blonde's hair she grasped hard, and flung her opponent across the room. "How dare you!" she replied. "In my own land I am a great lady. Here I have found favor with my lord Kedar. We need not be friends, but you will treat me with the respect duc my station. I am not, like you, some peasant wench thrust into a better situation. You will remember that in the future."

The blonde sprawled among a pile of pillows, arms and legs akimbo, her mouth open in complete surprise. The room was deathly still, and then there was a throaty, amused laugh as a tall, very elegant woman stepped forward from among a group of women. "Welcome to Fez," she said. "I am the lady Talitha, now only occasionally in our lord Kedar's favor, praise be to Allah." Talitha's skin was the color of molten gold, her black hair cut short so that it clung caplike to her skull in kinky curls. Her eyes were a wonderful shade of light green. With a smile she turned to Dagan. "Is she to have a private chamber?"

"Yes, lady, and you will see that none of the others mark her. He is adoring of her flawless skin."

"I shouldn't wonder," Talitha said. "Don't worry, Dagan, I will care for her as if she were my own child." She then turned her gaze upon the other women in the room. "You heard," she said in a suddenly hard voice. "Anyone who touches Muna will answer first to me and then to our lord Kedar. Frankly I don't believe any of you soft, overripe bitches are capable of taking on this one, but be warned nonetheless."

"You will be safe now," Dagan said, and then he left Skye and Zada.

"Come with me," Talitha said, and they followed her from the salon. “There is a lovely room available overlooking the mares' meadow and the mountains beyond the city walls."

"Are you in charge of the harem?" Skye asked.

"I have the honor and the burden of being Kedar's harem mistress," Talitha replied drily. "I was the first woman he ever bought. I have two daughters by him, but as his appetite has grown his need for me is less."

"Do you love him?"

"No, but I am grateful to him. I was born in a brothel in Rabat. My mother was a whore of Berber and Negro origin. My father was her French lover. I know that for certain because my mother did not enter the brothel until after my father left her, and she was already pregnant with me. She was a beautiful woman, and so she went to the finest brothel in Rabat and offered to sell herself to them if they would wait until she had borne her child. They gave her the gold on which to live comfortably until I was born, and then she joined them. I was raised there, and Kedar bought me from the brothel owner who felt that, at twenty, I was a bit too long in the tooth to satisfy his customers. I am therefore grateful to the master. I have a good home. My children are safe, and I am respected. Ah, here we are." She flung open a beautifully paneled wooden door, and they entered into a lovely bright room. "What about you, Muna?"

"I am a captive," she said. "The lord Osman bought me to give to the lord Kedar."

"For a captive you speak our language quite well," Talitha remarked.

"I was in the bagnos for several months, and I fortunately have an ear for other tongues."

"Were you ill that you were kept in the bagnos, or," here she cocked her head, "were you, as I suspect, loath to accept your portion."

Skye laughed. "I needed convincing," she admitted. "You must understand, Talitha, that I am an Englishwoman, a respectable widow with children. The thought that I should never see my babies again, never return to my own land, was not only frightening but heartbreaking to me."

"But now you accept your fate?" Talitha looked a little disbelieving.

"What choice do I have?" Skye asked.

"And our lord Kedar?"

"He is different from any man I have ever known," Skye said slowly, not quite sure what it was Talitha wanted her to say.

Talitha laughed. "He is a hard man, Muna, but believe me, there are worse masters. All Kedar demands is perfect obedience in his bed. The rest will be easy if you are not a gossip, for he hates those whose tongues wag incessantly.

"You'll probably be spared his company for a while, however, as you have had him all to yourself these last two months. Kedar needs variety and, like a large honeybee, he will now begin to go from flower to flower until he is sated once more." She smiled mischievously at Skye. "I imagine you can use the rest, Muna. Our lord and master can be quite exhausting, and I don't believe I have ever known anyone who spent two solid months catering to him. It is indeed possible you are the first woman to be that long with him."

"I will do whatever my lord commands me," Skye said sweetly.

Talitha laughed once more. "You must be in Kedar's favor," she said, amused. "Well, we shall see! I will leave you and your servant now to rest," she ended and, turning, left the room.

The door had no sooner closed behind her than Zada began to chatter busily. "What a fine room! Look at the view, my lady Muna. These carpets are very good, aren't they? Ohh, the couch is large, isn't it? I imagine the lord Kedar will visit you here, for you are in his favor. How fortunate we are to have such a rich master! We can be very happy here, but of course it would be wise for you to become pregnant as quickly as possible. Dagan says that the lord Kedar will probably marry you, and never before has he taken a wife. What an honor for you!"

"Be silent, chatterbox!" Skye said. "Don't you realize that harem walls have ears! The lord Kedar is undoubtedly quite tired of me by now and, as the lady Talitha has said, will seek solace among the variety of his other women. You must expect nothing, Zada."

"If he were bored, mistress, you would not have been given this fine chamber with its beautiful, thick rugs, silk hangings upon the wall, and a couch large enough for two people."

Skye ignored her servant's babble and, changing the subject, said, "Find out where the baths are, and if I may bathe at any time I choose. It has been over a month since we left Algiers, and in all that time I have not had a decent wash. I want a bath as quickly as possible."

"Of course, you must be perfection when our lord Kedar comes to you tonight."

Her mistress ignored her remark, and Zada hurried from the room, full of importance and certainty. Skye frankly hoped that Talitha's assessment of the situation was the correct one, and that she would not be troubled by Kedar for several days at the very least. She looked about the room. The walls were tiled halfway up, as was the rest of the house, in lovely turquoise blue and pure white. Above them the wall was painted white, and the wooden moldings were stained a dark brown. The white ceiling had large, dark beams, and between each beam was painted a design of turquoise blue and black swirls and dots. The dark-stained wooden floor had a large thick carpet in shades of gold and white with a knotted white fringe. There were several small square carpets in turquoise and white beneath the windows, and two that were oval-shaped, one on either side of the large couch.

The couch itself was a square set upon a gilded dais. It had a large feather and down mattress, and was covered in turquoise-and-gold-striped silk. There were wonderful large pillows, both plain and embroidered in several shades of rose, upon the couch. The room also had some nicely designed carved chairs, and two brass tray tables, one large, one small, as well as both hanging and portable lamps in ruby glass, brass, and copper.

As Zada returned she was preceded by several eunuchs who brought in Skye's beautifully fitted trunks and, at Zada's instructions, set them about the room.

All the eunuchs but one departed, and Zada introduced the one. 'This is Min'da, your personal eunuch, my lady Muna. You see, I told you that you were important to our lord Kedar," she finished smugly.

Skye lightly slapped Zada's cheek. "You are overproud, Zada. I am blessed by Allah to have our lord Kedar's attention. May I always be able to please him. But if Allah should will it otherwise, then may I accept my portion as gracefully as I now accept what he has given me."

The eunuch, a light-skinned Negro, half smiled. "You are indeed wise, my lady Muna. Dagan says that you will go far, and it may be that he is correct."

Skye's eyes met those of the eunuch. He was his master's man, of that she was certain; and Zada would also be loyal to Kedar. She was truly alone. What if Hamal had decided at the last minute not to help her? What if Niall had finally pushed the princess beyond her endurance, and been killed during the month in which she had been traveling from Algiers to Fez? How could she get word to Osman, and even if she did how could he help her now? Skye was tired, dirty, and under emotional strain. Helpless tears filled her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks.

"You, Zada!" Min'da snapped. "Help me to get your mistress to the baths. She is exhausted, and needs to be bathed and then allowed to rest." He put a strong arm about Skye. "Come now, my lady Muna, and let me help you."

Skye sagged against the eunuch, relieved for the moment to have an excuse to put her worries from her mind. She did need a bath, and she did need to rest. From the first day she had met Kedar, over two months back, there had not been a night she hadn't been forced to cater to his whims, except for the few days when her link with the moon was broken and she was considered unclean. She let herself be led off, and within minutes was soaking and steaming all her worries and troubles away.

Min'da was obviously well respected among the bath women, for they did not seem to resent either his presence or his quick orders regarding her comfort. "What is your fragrance?" he asked her quietly.

"Damask rose," she said softly, and he nodded, his eyes approving.

"It is the perfect fragrance for you. Few can wear its blend of sophistication and innocence well."

The bath women exclaimed with delight over Skye's fair skin, fairer than that of any of the other harem women, they said. The Fasi aristocracy prized fair skin, in both men and women alike. They also were lavish in their praise of her hip-length black hair, which they washed gently, lathering a wonderful rose-scented soap into thick suds that gently removed the trail dust from her beautiful tresses. Twice they washed her hair, afterward rinsing it thoroughly, the final rinse a mixture of herbal vinegar and water for shine, the bath mistress said.

Skye was beginning to feel relaxed. She had been washed, pumiced, and denuded of the little body hair they could find on her. Now, while two young slave girls dried and brushed her hair, she lay on her stomach and enjoyed an expert massage. A most soothing rose lotion was smoothed over her skin and rubbed into her body with long, firm strokes. She didn't even protest when they massaged her breasts and belly.

Skye was but half awake when they stood her up, slipping a white gauze chamber robe over her now clean body. Min'da lifted her in his arms and carried her back from the baths to her room, setting her gently upon her large couch. "That was wonderful,'' she murmured at him, and he smiled down at her.

"Are the tears gone now, lady Muna?"

"Yes," she said and, closing her eyes, appeared to sleep. With a satisfied nod the eunuch left the room, giving instructions to Zada as he went.

"Let her sleep for exactly six hours. I will be ready then with a meal for her, and the master will join her at the eleventh hour tonight. Do you understand?"

"The lord Kedar will visit her tonight? Really?" Zada's eyes were round with satisfaction, and her smile was a trifle smug.

"I have said it, woman," the eunuch snapped. "I do not say what I do not know or mean. Remember that in future. If we are to work together for lady Muna's eventual triumph over the rest of the women then you must obey my instructions and not question me, Zada. I have been in lord Kedar's harem for seven years now, and I know all there is to know, and more."

"If you are so important, Min'da," Zada retorted, "then tell me why it is you have not succeeded with one of your charges before?"

"I almost did two years ago," was the reply, "but the ungrateful wretch escaped my vigilance, and was caught cuckolding my lord Kedar with one of his guard. The little fool almost destroyed me and had it not been for Dagan's intervention, I, too, might have died. Dagan, however, convinced my lord Kedar that I was not to blame, and he spared me. I have been used on general duty in the harem ever since, but today Dagan once more gave me my own charge, the lady Muna. I will succeed with her, and if you follow my lead, Zada, you will also find yourself in a place of honor, as personal maid to our lord Kedar's only wife. You would like that, wouldn't you?"

Zada nodded, now more respectful, but also still curious. "Why is Dagan so good to you?" she asked. "Why should he care if you succeed or not?"

"Dagan is my brother," Min'da said, and then he haughtily stalked from the room.

Skye had heard it all, and with Min'da's final words to Zada she again felt depressed. Min'da had obviously been the personal eunuch to the unfortunate girl from Cathay whom Kedar had beaten to death. Now given a second chance, he would be virtually impossible to elude, and if she could not evade his watchfulness how could she aid her beloved Niall? With a little sob Skye turned her face into one of the pillows and wept softly. Niall! she cried in her heart. My darling husband, where are you? Niall! Without even realizing it, she fell into a troubled sleep, a sleep made restless by faceless and frightening images that arose from the depths to haunt her; and while she fought against her tortured dreams Niall Burke fought against a nightmare of another kind.

Skye would have been shocked by his appearance had she seen her husband now. Eight inches taller than his wife, his months in the galleys had hardened his elegant frame, giving him strong muscles where once there had only been their suggestion. Still, he was far too thin.

His big nude body was spread wide upon a large couch, his long arms and legs manacled to prevent his escape. His midnight-colored hair was longer, and his silvery eyes were now the lackluster gray of dirty pewter. The elderly crone who served as his female eunuch had already fed him with the spiced drink that was always ordered for him before these sessions with Turkhan. At first he had refused to drink it, and spit it out when they forced it down his throat. There had been no admonishments on his behavior, but the next time a tube of sheep intestine was jammed down his throat into his stomach, and the liquid poured through it. The third time the cup was again handed to him, but the female eunuchs stood by ready to use the tubing should he prove difficult. Niall Burke had drunk down the potent liquid then, having no doubt in his mind that they would use force again if they had to.

He was already beginning to feel the peculiar euphoria that began shortly after the liquid entered his body, and to his disgust his anxieties were once more melting away as his breathing began to grow slower and more shallow. He seemed to lose control of himself every time they pressed the goblet on him and induced him to drink, and he didn't understand it; but then as his inhibitions slid away he demanded petulantly of the eunuch, "Rabi, where are my sweets?"

The old one cackled merrily. "So eager, so eager," she said. "You are always so eager for the comfits, Ashur. Open your mouth then, and I shall pop them in. You will like them tonight, for they arc your favorite-vanilla."

Obediently Niall opened his mouth, and Rabi fed him the candies. The jellied squares with their bright jewel colors fascinated him. They tasted so good, sweet, and strongly vanilla-flavored. They had never had anything like them at home in Ireland. Ireland! Dear God, would he ever survive to get back there again? He had to survive! That was why he so docilely accepted the spiced drink and the sweets they fed him each time Princess Turkhan wanted him in her bed.

In the beginning he had fought her like a madman, and they had chained him like an animal in her garden until he had regained some measure of sanity. He had welcomed his release from the Turkish galley where he had been incarcerated since his recovery from Darragh's attack. He had almost lost track of the time, for that was how it was when one's life was confined to a rower's bench. When, however, he had learned that he had been purchased to serve as a stud animal to an Eastern princess, he had gone wild. He had tried explaining to Turkhan, who spoke fluent French, their one common language, that he was an aristocrat in his own land; that he was willing to pay whatever ransom she desired; that he had a beautiful wife and two children he longed to return to in Ireland; that he was Lord Niall Burke.

"I shall call you Ashur," had been her answer. "Do you know what Ashur means, my tall one? It means warlike one, and I can tell," here she ran her tiny hand slowly over his bulging biceps, "that you are indeed a fierce warrior."

Nothing he had said had penetrated her brain, he decided, and so he began to explain again. Turkhan had waved her hand impatiently, saying, "I heard you the first time, Ashur, now you will hear me. I am not interested in purchasing captives for ransom. I am a wealthy woman, a connoisseur, a collector of beautiful things; and you are a beautiful thing. Never have I seen such blue eyes, my tall one. I suspect that you are a good lover, and I shall teach you to be an even better one, I promise you."

"Never!” he spat angrily at her.

Turkhan had laughed, a deep velvet sound, the sound of a woman used to getting her own way. "Do you know to whom you say never, Ashur? I think you do not or you would not be so bold. I will therefore forgive you your mistake, and tell you who I am. I am the daughter of Sultan Selim II of the Ottoman Empire, defender of the true faith and overlord of this city."

"I don't give a damn who your father is," Niall had shouted at her. "I won't be your stud, woman! I'm an Irishman, not a prize stallion!"

Her eyes had narrowed with annoyance. "Whoever you were, my beautiful Ashur, you are no longer. Whatever was is no longer. Your only reality is what you are now, and that is Ashur, a slave in the harem of Princess Turkhan. Your goal is to please me, your mistress; and Ashur, you will please me, I can promise you. You will please me.ⁿ

It gave Niall Burke small satisfaction to know that so far he had not really pleased her. She was beautiful, he had to admit. By any culture's standards she would have been considered beautiful. She was not a tall woman, standing barely over five feet in height; but she appeared taller, for she had a regal bearing along with long and slender arms and legs. She held her beautiful head high, her flame-colored hair cut straight across her forehead, hanging turned under just below her shoulders. She had an oval face with an aristocratic nose, a lush red mouth, and almond-shaped eyes fringed in thick black lashes that were the amber gold of a lioness. Her body was slim and lithe like a boy's, except for large, marvelous breasts that thrust proudly from her chest.

He had learned in the year he had been imprisoned in her palace that she was a well-educated and an intelligent woman; but she was proud and stubborn, too. Despite his constant refusals, despite the fact that every time they made love she had to force him to do it, in spite of his atrocious behavior, she had made him her favorite along with the boy, Hamal, who had been in her harem some three years, and was genuinely in love with her.

That was an interesting situation, Niall thought as he lay awaiting Turkhan. Hamal had told him that he had been born a free man also, but that his older brother, a wealthy merchant, had sold him to the princess. Hamal didn't seem to mind at all, as he cared for his mistress and she obviously cared for him. Niall smiled to himself. Whether Turkhan realized it or not, the boy manipulated her to. suit himself; but unfortunately, he had not been able to help Niall. The princess had determined that Niall was to father a child on her; but he was equally determined that she would not have his child. No son of his was going to be mothered and raised by her. Niall had rarely resorted to prayer in his entire lifetime, but he prayed now that the flame-haired bitch who held him captive would not conceive his child. So far his prayers had beeen heard.

Only Skye had ever given him children, his darling little daughter, Deirdre, and his only son, Padraic. Dear God, the lad had barely been born when he had last ridden off from Burke Castle. What did the boy look like now, Niall wondered, and Deirdre, too. Had Skye mourned him long? Was she still mourning him? Had she remarried? She had never been a woman to be without a man for a long time. He wondered whose wife his wife was now? The thought of her with any other man maddened him beyond reason.

Dear God, Claire O’Flaherty had had her revenge on them all! If he ever got free of Fez, he was going to search the she-witch out himself, and kill her once and for all. He could yet remember awakening aboard a rocking ship to find her standing over him, gloating. He hadn't understood why she was there, or even how she had gotten there, but he knew he was not dreaming. Before he had even had a chance to question her, he had slipped back into an unconscious state.

"You look so fierce, my beautiful Ashur," Turkhan murmured as she slid onto the bed next to him. Her little white hands began to slide across his body, caressing and seeking the sensitive places that would arouse him. "What is it you think of, my beautiful one?"

"I think of deceit, and of revenge, my Princess," he answered her.

Turkhan shivered at the dark depths in his eyes. "I command you to think of passion instead," she said.

Niall's harsh laughter rebounded off the walls. "It shall, of course, be as you command, my Princess," he answered her mockingly.

"Oh, Ashur," Turkhan whispered, allowing her vulnerability to show for just a brief moment, "is it really so difficult to love me?" She lay her sleek head on his chest, and it occurred to Niall that he had been going about this thing all wrong.

For months he had been fighting her, and it had gained him nothing. What a fool he had been! If he had appeared to give in to her demands from the start he might have gained her trust, and escaped months ago. Instead he had behaved like a violated virgin. What an idiot he was! Skye had always accused him of not seeing the overall picture, of being impulsive and heedless of the havoc his quick actions wrought.

His mind snapped back to the present. Turkhan, having stimulated his manhood to erection, was preparing to mount him as she always did. "Unchain me, my Princess," he said quietly. "I think it is time I showed you how an Irishman makes love to his woman."

She looked suspiciously at him. "What game is this you play with me, Ashur?"

"Are you afraid, my Princess?" was his slightly mocking reply.

Her pale skin flushed with the open challenge, and she licked her lips. For months she had been forced to compel his participation, and although he claimed to be the father of children, she could not conceive. She had filled him with opiates and hashish and other well-known aphrodisiacs to insure his potency. Perhaps the secret lay in his being willing.

"Don't you want to feel my arms about you, Turkhan?" he murmured gently. "Unchain me, lass."

The tone of his voice made her shiver openly, and Niall knew that he had won. Slowly Turkhan arose from the wide couch, walked across the room, and opened a small carved ebony box. Removing the key from the box, she returned to the couch and unlocked the four manacles that had held him prisoner. While she returned the key to its hiding place, Niall Burke sat up, rubbed his wrists, and swung his long legs over the bed. Every movement he made felt exaggerated to him. It was always so after they fed him with the jellies, and the goblet. Still, he realized that he suddenly felt very good. His big body was burning with desire, his erection was yet quite firm, and now as his blue eyes swept over the beautiful and petite creature standing before him he had but one thought: to couple with her. It was what she wanted, and right now it was what he wanted as well.

Reaching out, he pulled her against him and bent low to find her lush mouth. "What an incredibly beautiful little bitch you are," he said against her lips as he pressed teasing kisses against them; and Turkhan shivered again, her mind half fearful, half thrilled that he was at last yielding himself to her. Niall lifted her tiny frame up in his arms, and set her gently on the soft feather and down mattress, then joined her.

"Oh, love me, my beautiful Ashur!" she whispered frantically.

"I will love you, my Princess, but there is no great hurry. I promised you that I would show you how the men of my land love their women." He leaned over her, his fingers brushing back her soft hair. "Do you want me, Turkhan?" he asked her.

His gentle touch was destroying her, Turkhan thought, but she could not help herself from gasping, "Yes, Ashur! Allah, yes, I want you!" His satisfied growl of laughter frankly frightened her, but she dared not move lest she break the spell and he revert to the sullen and angry man that he had been until just a few minutes earlier.

While she lay so still, her golden eyes lowered modestly, Niall took the opportunity to examine her closely. Her skin had the same texture and color of the milk-white roses that grew in her garden. He slid his hand across her flat belly, enjoying the softness, and heard her catch her breath. Niall smiled to himself. She was a hot little piece. He moved a hand up to fondle one of her big, cone-shaped breasts, rolling the large coral nipple between his thumb and his forefinger. Turkhan moaned, and catching his head in her two tiny hands, she drew it down to her breasts. He laughed at her impatience, but nonetheless took the offered nipple in his mouth to suck upon it, worrying it faintly with his teeth, and sending tiny darts of delight through her entire body.

Turkhan couldn't believe the pleasure that Niall was giving her. She had never allowed any man to take the lead when making love with her, and yet she suddenly realized that she didn't want him any other way. Let Hamal, her little lamb, love her gently with tender touches and wailing Persian love songs. But Ashur! Allowed his own way, he was loving her with a fierceness she had never known, and she adored it!

He had now transferred his attentions to her other breast, and when he had finished with it he began kissing, nipping, and licking at her skin. Turkhan almost screamed with rapture, especially when his head dipped to the V between her legs and he began nuzzling at the secret of her womanhood. No man had ever kissed her there, or loved with his mouth the tiny pearl of her femininity. She wasn't even sure that it was right, but she was now past caring and she didn't want him to stop. Something strange and frightening and yet wonderful was happening to her. She felt a sudden tightness, then a swelling, and then an incredible burst of pleasure unlike anything she had ever felt before-and it was only the beginning of the delight. She was suddenly beneath him and he was filling her full with his great and pulsing manhood. Turkhan almost swooned with bliss, for never had she lain beneath a man. She had been told that a woman mounted the man, as that was the only way he might obtain pleasure. It was an incredible and magnificent experience. He was driving deep and fast inside her, and she began to moan, her flame-colored tresses whipping around her thrashing head as she lost control and her world dissolved about her. Turkhan arced her body upward to meet his thrusts. Her long nails raked his back, leaving bloody weals across it as a primitive scream exploded from her throat only to be stifled by his brutal kiss, which was the last thing she remembered before plummeting down into the raging darkness.

Regaining consciousness, she began to laugh softly with the irony. She had once told him pridefully that she should make a better lover of him than he was, but now Turkhan knew better. He had taken her where no man had ever taken her, and now she knew that all these years she had been only half a woman, that before Ashur they had all cheated her. She rubbed her kiss-bruised lips gingerly and, opening her eyes, looked directly at him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded of her.

"Because until just a little while ago, my beautiful Ashur, I did not know myself," she answered him candidly.

He didn't believe her. "You grew up in a harem," he snorted scornfully, "surrounded by women, and you never knew the pleasure that can be between a man and a woman? They never told you?"

"I was sent from my father's house when I was ten years old," she said quietly. "My mother was a Circassian dancer in my father's harem who just happened to catch his eye one time. That one time was enough to get her pregnant, but my mother was obviously not interesting enough to retain my father's favor. He never called her to his couch again, and she died giving birth to me. I was given to one of the other women to nurse, but once it was no longer necessary that I have milk to survive I was left to myself. I was nobody's child, Ashur. My grandmother, Khurrem, took an interest in me for a while, but as I grew they tell me I began to resemble Cyra Hafise, my father's grandmother who had been my grandmother's mortal enemy.

"When I was almost ten years old my father needed monies for his fleet, and word was sent to all the great cities of his empire. Fez responded so generously that my father's curiosity was aroused. He was told that the largest contribution, indeed three quarters of what had come from the city, had been given by one Ali ibn Achmet. Further investigation revealed that Ali ibn Achmet was the city's wealthiest merchant, an old man who had never married, but was very devout and extremely loyal. At my grandmother's urging, my father decided to reward Ali ibn Achmet's generosity and loyalty by presenting him with an Ottoman princess for a wife.

"The choice was left up to my grandmother, and she chose me, saying, 'Although you look like the cursed Cyra Hafise, you are my granddaughter, and more like me in your actions than any of the others. This is your chance, little Turkhan, and I shall give you the best piece of advice I can. Be soft-spoken, appear meek, but never let anyone own you. This includes your husband, my child. Let no man truly own you. Amass all the wealth you can, and when the old man we send you to dies, be sure he has named you his only heir. Do whatever you must to insure that inheritance, but gain it, for wealth is your guarantee of power, little Turkhan. Wealth, and your inviolate position as an Ottoman princess.'

"That, my Ashur, is the only thing I learned in my father's harem. I learned nothing of love, or of women's ways; but I consider what my grandmother, Khurrem, taught me the most valuable lesson I have ever learned in life.

"I never knew until tonight the real pleasure that can be between a man and a woman. This you have taught me, and if it never happens again at least I shall be content having known it once."

My God, Niall thought, what a complex and sad woman she is. "It can happen again, Turkhan, and it will," he promised. "Shall I make it happen for you again, my Princess?" Leaning over her, he brushed her lips with his own, but all the while he was thinking that he had at last found a sure way to control her. A few nights of unending delights, and she would be his slave. Reaching out, he crushed one of her breasts in his hand while he murmured with hot breath in her small ear, "Answer me, Turkhan! Do you want the pleasure again?"

"Yes!" she whispered urgently. "Yes, my Ashur! I want it!"

Niall marveled afterward that he had not thought to cooperate with his captor before. For all her position and wealth and power, Turkhan was like any other woman in love. Niall knew that he would have to move very carefully else he arouse suspicion. Already young Hamal questioned his motives.

"I do not understand this sudden turnabout," Hamal said. "For months you have battled with Turkhan to regain your freedom."

"While you, our lovely mistress, and everyone else here has told me that regaining my freedom is an impossibility. I am a thickheaded Irishman, Hamal, but I now believe you all. If my life is to be here then I am better off cooperating, aren't I? Besides Turkhan is an exquisite woman, and I am a healthy man. I could resist her no longer."

"What of your wife?" Hamal demanded. "Do you no longer think of her, Ashur?"

He shrugged fatalistically. "Skye undoubtedly believes me dead, and has probably remarried. It has been almost two years now, and she would need a strong husband to protect Burke lands and my small son's inheritance. My father is an old man, and could not aid her." He lost heart once more, for his spoken thoughts could very well be the truth. She probably had remarried, and he was never going to return to her or to Ireland. Yet deep in his heart he still believed that Skye belonged to him, and to him alone!

"You belong to me, and me alone," Kedar murmured against her mouth as she lay half conscious beneath him. He thrust his enormous lance hard into her quivering sheath, and she shuddered with shamed pleasure.

Skye had hoped for a respite from Kedar's lust once they had reached Fez, but his ardor had only seemed to increase. She was the object of much speculation within his harem. Many were jealous of her, and more were fearful of her influence over their master. Skye would have laughed if the situation were not so absurd, and she would have been terribly lonely had it not been for Talitha. The beautiful harem mistress sensed that Muna did not enjoy being the exclusive object of the master's affection. Skye was also nervous because Hamal had yet to contact her, though surely he must know that she had arrived.

"Open your eyes, my jewel, and ravish me with a look," Kedar commanded her, his passion spent.

Skye slid back into the here and now, looking at him with her cool gaze. "You are a magnificent lover, my lord," she said honestly, and that was something else that was beginning to bother her. He was an incredible lover, and of late she had been genuinely responding to his lovemaking. She simply couldn't help it. Skye had experienced enough at thirty to know the difference between love and lust, but still it distressed her to give this man anything of her real self. She was prostituting herself in order to help Niall, but to enjoy it seemed wrong. She sighed deeply, and he mistook her motives as he usually did.

"We will make love again this night, my fair Muna," he said in an amused and indulgent tone. "It pleases me that you are losing some of your shyness, and are becoming as insatiable for me as I am for you."

She laughed lightly. "It is impossible not to want you, my lord," and she boldly caressed his cheek with a teasing hand.

He caught her hand and, turning it palm up, placed a moist and burning kiss upon it. "You delight me, my jewel, and I would reward your behavior. Tell me what you would like?"

Skye paused a moment as if in thought, and then said, "Would you allow Talitha and me to visit the bazaars in the old part of town, my lord? I have not spent my pin money since I arrived. The vendors who come to the harem do not bring with them a great variety of goods, and there has been nothing that I desired."

What a delight she was, Kedar thought tolerandy, once more amused by the simplicity of her request. He was also feeling somewhat pleased with himself for his firm handling of this beautiful slave of his. She was responding perfectly these days, and had been worth every moment he had spent on her. He chuckled aloud. How feminine she was, wanting to shop the bazaars, and how intelligent not to waste her precious dinars on the cheap baubles and bangles the vendors brought into the harem to sell. More and more he considered the possibility of making her his wife. If only she would conceive a child. He turned his hazel eyes upon her.

"So you would visit the bazaars, Muna? Very well, my jewel, but you and Talitha must be well veiled, and well guarded. I will have no one making free with either of you. You may go tomorrow."

"Oh, thank you, my lord!" Skye wound herself around him, her beautiful arms entwining themselves about his neck, her breasts pressing suggestively against his smooth chest. Her pouting red lips invited his kiss, and while he tasted her mouth she reached down and fondled his manhood with clever hands until he was hard and eager again. Never interrupting their embrace, she moved herself over him, guiding his length into her warmth. Kedar pulled his mouth from hers and groaned with pleasure as she moved on him with a fierce rhythm. His big hands tangled themselves in her dark hair, and he muttered almost incoherently against her mouth. Skye slipped her arms about his middle, and lifted her legs to wrap them about him. Kedar gave a growl, shifted his weight, and pushed Skye back onto the pillows, taking control of their lovemaking once more as the pleasure began to build for them both.

She tried to fight it back, but her body would not obey, and instead she soared upward. The feeling built and built until Skye believed she was going to burst with the burning bliss that raced through her veins. He was commanding her to tell him how much she wanted their passion, and terrified that he might stop, she said the words that she knew he wanted to hear, then felt more shamed than ever. Like boiling wine, the perfection poured over her, and somewhere in the timelessness she could hear his howl of victory. Her last thought then was that she must find Niall before it was too late; she must escape from this terrible man before he destroyed her completely.

Afterward, as they lay together in the quiet, he said, "Never has any woman given of herself as you give to me, my jewel, and yet I cannot have enough of you. You are as much an aphrodisiac to me as the hashish and the opiates. I have never felt for another woman that which I feel for you."

"You honor me, my lord," Skye replied softly, but her mind was wild with panic at the thought that he was falling in love with her, that he might attempt to make her his wife. He could do it even without her consent, for in Islam a wedding was held with just the consent of the bride's father or guardian. In the case of a slave, a master need only arrange it with the local iman. She tried to calm herself with the thought that Osman would have foreseen such a thing, and not put her in such a position. What a disaster it would be if Kedar married her, especially with her husband still living! No, Osman would have foreseen it, Skye reassured herself as Kedar pulled her into his arms and fell asleep.

When she awoke the following morning she was alone, the imprint of his head on the pillow the only evidence that he had been there at all. She was no longer required to sleep on a cushion below him, and that, Talitha had told her, was quite an honor. No other woman in the harem save Muna and Talitha was accorded that honor. Skye stretched lazily, but her mind was already active with a hundred different thoughts. Today they would visit the old town with its bazaars, and hopefully she would have an opportunity to find out where the residence of Princess Turkhan was located.

The door to her room swung open. "So," Talitha said with a merry chuckle, "you have wheedled a trip to the bazaars for us, my clever Muna. You must have indeed pleased Kedar last night. He came early to my chamber, smiling and purring like a well-fed panther, to tell me that I would accompany you. Tell me, Muna, what is your secret with him? In all the years I have known Kedar he has never been so expansive and so generous." She hefted a well-filled purse in her palm. "Gold dinars, Muna! A purse full of gold dinars from our lord and master to be used by us for our heart's delight. What do you do to him?"

Skye sat up, her cheeks pink with her blushes as Talitha's frank gaze took in her nude beauty. Reaching for a cobweb-thin pink wool shawl, Skye said, "I am only his obedient slave, Talitha."

Talitha's mouth quirked with amusement as Skye modestly pulled the shawl about her. "You are a strange one, Muna. There is an air of mystery about you. Perhaps it is that which fascinates Kedar so very much. At any rate, thank you for including me in your little adventure. We shall be the envy of the entire harem. Hurry and dress! I don't want to waste a minute of this day. It has been a long time since I last left this house, and I am eager to go."

As Talitha hurried out, Zada came hurrying in with a tray of food. "Allah only knows when you'll eat again," she fussed at her mistress.

"I am ravenous," Skye admitted.

"I am not surprised," was the reply. 'The women of the harem say that the lord Kedar never stops his lovemaking during the entire night. I wonder that you can lift your head from the pillow this morning. Ohh, they are all so jealous of you, my lady Muna! He is going to make you his wife. They all say it is so. I knew that you would be successful with him!" She placed the tray upon the little table by the couch.

Skye didn't bother to answer Zada, for she knew that anything she said would be repeated and embellished upon until her words were totally unrecognizable. Instead, she concentrated upon the meal that her slave woman had brought her. There was a lovely polychrome ceramic Fezware bowl in white, blue, and orange that was filled with peeled green figs. A matching plate held flat bread, hot and fresh from the oven, and there was a second bowl with a honeycomb in it. A silver goblet studded with lapis was filled with limewater. Skye ate hungrily, and when she had finished she rose, allowing Zada to wrap her in a gauze robe so she might walk to the baths. The slave woman followed carrying her mistress's special soaps and scents.

Zada's black eyes darted back and forth as they moved through the harem. Fully aware of the envious gazes thrown at Skye, she puffed out her chest with pride as they moved quickly along, feeling enormously pleased with herself for having such an important and beautiful mistress. Already the servants of the other favored ones were beginning to come to her with little gifts and gossip. When the lady Muna became the lord Kedar's wife, his only wife, Zada would be the most influential serving woman in Kedar's harem. She smiled smugly to herself as they entered the bath, considering how fortunate she was.

The baths were empty this early in the morning except for the bath attendants, who had been alerted that the lady Muna would be bathing and tumbled over themselves in their efforts to serve her lest the master's favorite be displeased. Skye silently allowed them to do their job, and when they had finished with her she thanked them each with a smile, then returned to her quarters with Zada to dress.

"Do not deck me out like an idol," she snapped at Zada, who wanted to run bracelets up and down her arms, bering each of her slender fingers, and place a fillet dripping with small jewels on her head and forehead.

"You are the chosen of the lord Kedar," Zada protested.

"I am only my lord Kedar's humble slave," Skye insisted. "If you deck me out in every jewel he has given me you will draw attention to me, which would displease my master. A show of wealth will also encourage the merchants to charge me double, Zada. I would look like all the faceless women in a plain black yashmak."

Zada sighed disappointedly, but allowed that the lady Muna was probably right, and dressed her as she desired. When she had finished Skye was as anonymous as every other black-garbed figure in the streets of Fez would be. The top of the yashmak fell just below her eyebrows, and her outdoor veil was securely pinned to it. Only the barest slit for her eyes was allowed. She could have been twenty, or eighty; the fairest woman alive, or the ugliest; but no one in the streets of the city would know it.

"Are you ready, Muna?" Talitha's voice emerged from an equally well-swathed figure.

Kedar had arranged for them to travel in a curtained litter, for it was unthinkable that his women walk to the bazaars. Skye couldn't resist peeping at the city from behind a corner of the curtains as they moved from Kedar's house at the top of the ravine, down the twisting, winding streets to the bottom where the markets of old Fez were located. She was enchanted by the one-arched bridges that spanned the river, a contribution of the Moors who had settled in Fez when driven from Spain. Skye noticed how crowded together the houses were as they descended lower and lower into the most ancient part of the city. It was also darker here, for it seemed almost impossible for the sun to find a place to slip between so it might shine. Finally Skye let the curtains fall back into place, and following Talitha's lead loosened her face veil.

"What made you want to visit the bazaars?" Talitha asked.

"I don't like being penned up," Skye said. "In my land women move about freely. I even ride horses. I cannot stay in that house all the time else I go mad. When our lord Kedar asked me last night what he might gift me with I begged him for a day at the bazaars. It means more to me than jewels could."

"No wonder you fascinate him, Muna. You are so unusual for a woman."

“There are other European women in our lord's harem," Skye said.

"Yes," Talitha admitted. "We have girls from Provence, the Languedoc, Castile, Naples, and Genoa, but not one of them was from a noble family as you are. Two are merchant's daughters, but the rest are peasants, and all are used to obedience to higher authority, as are the women of the East. You, however, belonged to the higher authority, Muna."

"I answered to my Queen," Skye said.

"Not your king?"

"England has no king. Our Queen is a virgin without spouse who rules in her own right."

"Incredible!" Talitha exclaimed. "Such a thing would never be allowed here. A woman needs a man to answer to else she be unnatural."

Skye almost laughed at Talitha's outrage. There were many who thought Elizabeth Tudor odd and unnatural. Before she might comment though, the litter was set down with a tiny bump and the curtains drawn aside. Quickly they refastened their veils as Min'da carefully helped them out. "I will escort you, and the litter will follow us," he said.

Together Skye and Talitha began walking through the busy and noisy bazaars, starting first with the Quaisarya, the magnificent silk market. It was an incredible place, and Skye was at a loss as to where to look next. The stalls were filled to overflowing with a profusion of marvelous silks in a rainbow of jewel-bright colors. There were plain colors such as scarlet and emerald, topaz and sapphire and amethyst; and prints, deep purple with gold dots, crimson with silver, black and cream; and gauzes shot through with silver and gold; and silks in all colors sewn with freshwater pearls and jewel chips. It took a while for her to overcome the shock of so much beauty before she could intelligently choose and make her purchases. Finally she picked a rose-colored silk gauze shot through with silver, and a lovely blue-green that matched her eyes. These she would have the harem seamstresses sew into garments for her.

Leaving the Quaisarya, they moved on down a narrow street, visiting the various shops inhabited by gold- and silversmiths. As they stood admiring bracelets in one of these, a handsome young man entered. He was as slender as a willow, of medium height with fair skin, dark, curly hair, and meltingly soft brown eyes.

"My lord Hamal," the shopkeeper said, hurrying forward. "I have the earrings that you ordered ready for you."

"Good day, Hamal," Talitha said.

Skye's heart was hammering wildly. There could hardly be two Hamals of Talitha's acquaintance, and therefore this had to be Kedar's younger brother. She wanted to scream that she was Niall's wife, to ask if her husband were alive, but she dared not.

"My lady Talitha, what do you here? I did not realize that my brother was in the habit of allowing his women to visit the bazaars, or has his harem finally revolted and strangled him?"

Talitha laughed. "You grow more wicked each day, Hamal! Tell me that you are not truly happy with the princess."

Hamal grinned boyishly. "I am happy, Talitha, although I doubt that when Kedar sold me to her he meant it to be so. Who is this shy creature hiding behind you?"

“This is Muna, your brother's new favorite, and rumored to become his wife soon. We would not be here but that she pleases him so he allows her to visit the bazaars."

Hamal's eyes flicked casually over Skye. "So Kedar finally thinks to take himself a wife. I cannot imagine my brother caught by that most tender of passions, yet if you say it then I must believe it. What is your secret, lady Muna? How did you capture my brother's cold heart?"

"Pay no heed to Talitha, my lord," Skye said softly, "she but teases you with harem gossip. I am naught but my lord Kedar's humble slave. Nothing more."

"Where do you come from, my lady? Your speech is that of my friend, Ashur, who is a favorite of my princess."

“There are no men named Ashur in my land, my lord."

Hamal smiled pleasantly. "Ashur is the name that my princess has given him. It means strong and warlike one. The name he bore in his own land was Niall Burke."

“Then we are indeed from the same land, my lord Hamal. The name I bore in our homeland was Skye."

"Excuse me, my lord," the goldsmith interrupted, "but are the earrings satisfactory?"

"As always, Yusef," Hamal said graciously as he examined them. "Your work borders on genius. The earrings are perfect, and Princess Turkhan will love them." Reaching into his robes, he drew out his purse and paid for his purchase. Then he turned back to the two women. "We will meet again soon, my ladies," he said, and bowing, he went from the shop.

It was all Skye could do not to run after him and beg for news of Niall. Obviously he was still alive, from what Hamal had said. At least she had that, and Hamal's promise that he would see her soon.

"He is quite different from our lord Kedar," Skye remarked to Talitha.

"Yes," Talitha said. "It is strange to think that they come from the same mother, and yet they do. If Kedar is fierce and strong, then Hamal is gentle and tender. Still, they are brothers."

"Is lord Hamal married to a princess?" Skye asked innocently.

Talitha laughed. "No. Kedar sold his brother to the princess when the boy was fifteen. It is an odd situation, Muna. The princess is the daughter of the Sultan in Istanbul, and as men keep a harem of women, she keeps one of men."

Skye pretended to be shocked. "Why, Talitha, that is as outrageous to me as my Queen is to you!" she said.

Talitha laughed again. "I suppose it is all in the eye of the beholder," she said good-naturedly. "Do you see anything that you like here?"

"Yes," Skye said, and she bought a beautiful gold aigret holder with three perfect white feathers, the gold studded in small sapphires. "For my lord Kedar to thank him for this day," she said sweetly.

They moved on to the street of the cobblers and spent a good deal of time trying on slippers of various styles, finally settling on several pairs each. When the voice of the muzzin sounded from the topmost pinnacle of the Qarawiyin Mosque they knew it was midday and, like everyone else in Fez, they fell to their knees facing east for the prayer period. Upon rising, both Skye and Talitha admitted to hunger, and Min'da purchased small hot lamb kebobs from a street vendor for them. They ate the kebobs greedily, licking the last bit of tasty grease from their fingers while Min'da bought water from another vendor for them to drink; and sweet dough balls deep fried and then dipped in honey and chopped almonds for a treat.

For another hour or so they wandered happily through the open markets, and Skye was fascinated by everything she saw. Beneath gaily striped awnings sat the street merchants, their merchandise spread out before them for all to see. Farmers from the surrounding countryside came with their produce, the various fruits and vegetables piled high. Others had cages and pens of live animals and poultry for sale. There were rug merchants, copper and brass smiths with trays and bowls and lamps, leather goods from the tanners, and cloth merchants with their silks, cottons, velvets, wools, and gauzes blowing in the afternoon breeze. There were horse traders and slave merchants. Skye watched frightened and sad as a fair-skinned girl with long blond hair was sold to a fat man with the tiny eyes of a boar who pinched and prodded her mercilessly before finally making his purchase. Tears rolling down her face, the girl was led away.

"Let us go back," Skye said quietly, her joy in this short day of freedom totally spoiled.

"It is the way here," Talitha said. "Let that scene remind you how fortunate you are. We are among the privileged slaves. That poor girl was just bought by a local brothelkeeper."

"How can you know that?" Skye was saddened even further for the blond girl.

"I do not for sure, of course, but I recognize the breed from my younger days."

"I can bear no more," Skye said, and turning, she climbed back into the litter.

"So that is your weakness," Talitha remarked as she joined her and pulled the curtains shut. "Do not let the others in the harem see that you are so softhearted, Muna. They will use it against you. Nothing would please them more than to destroy you."

"You do not want to destroy me, Talitha."

"I do not seek to catch the lord Kedar's attention. I have had enough of that in my youth. I am content to rule his harem for him, and enjoy my daughters."

As they returned to Kedar's home high above the old city, Skye took the opportunity to find out where the princess lived. Turkhan, it seemed, was no different from all the other wealthy people in Fez, having a large pink palace in the newer part of the city, but some distance from Kedar. They arrived back safely, and Min'da escorted them to the enclosure of the harem, which was surprisingly quiet and empty but for serving women and the children.

"Ha!" Talitha said with wisdom born of long experience. "I will wager he is in the mares' meadow, Muna. Quickly, let us go to your room, and we shall see."

Puzzled, Skye followed Talitha to her chamber, where they found Zada peering eagerly through the latticework. "What is it? What are you watching?" Skye demanded of her servant.

Zada turned, her brown eyes large. "In the meadow below," she said low. "The master and his women."

"You could have gone," Talitha said, amused. "It is not forbidden for pretty servants to join in the sport held in the mares' meadow, Zada."

"I would not go unless I had my mistress's permission, lady Talitha."

"What a loyal child she is," Talitha remarked, further amused. "Come, Muna, and see what games our lord Kedar plays today."

They moved to the lattice-covered windows and looked down. Skye caught her breath in shock. Below her, the mares' meadow, a well-clipped green lawn dotted with trees, was filled with the women of Kedar's harem. All were naked and posed upon all fours. Their hair had been bound up, and to each woman's head was attached a curved polished brass headpiece from which flowed a horse's mane. A narrow gilt belt encircled each woman just below the belly, and at the base of their spines thrust forth a polished brass holder from which sprang a matching and stiffly arched horse's tail. Kedar was garbed in the same oudandish equipment, but as the women stood still as if mares browsing, he in his role of stallion moved among them, mounting them from the rear and thrusting into them. The women giggled as, finishing with one, he snorted and whinnied trumphantly as would a great stud stallion. He then moved on to another of his "mares," his erection still plainly eager.

Skye turned away, embarrassed by the tableau below her.

Talitha laughed softly. "You do not like his games, Muna? The eunuchs bet among themselves as to which woman will cause him to spill his seed."

Before Skye might reply Dagan entered her room, saying, "I was given orders by my lord Kedar that you and the lady Talitha were to join him in the mares' meadow if you returned in time. I have brought your things." He placed two sets of manes and tails on a table.

"Go and fetch a third for Zada," Talitha commanded, and with a grin Dagan left the room.

"I can't," Skye protested.

"If you refuse him it will be the bastinado, and afterward he will think up some particularly bestial delight to shame you with before the other women, Muna. Do not think because he considers making you his wife that he will be one bit more lenient with you. Kedar will not be disobeyed, and you know it."

"He will use me before them all," Skye said low, and she began to tremble.

"Yes," Talitha said, refusing to coddle her. "He will take you before them all, and if you cry and shake you will give the other women a weapon that they will delight in using against you. Like all men skilled in the sensual, Kedar enjoys occasional perversions. Show distaste for his little game in the mares' meadow, and those few women he owns who keep his interest only by their skill at perversion will think up delights that will have you screaming in your dreams for months to come."

Skye drew a deep breath in, and said, "I will go, and I will somehow manage not to show my revulsion at the situation."

"Good," Talitha encouraged her. "Remember you have what all those bitches wish they had. He cares for you. I even believe that if Kedar were capable of love, he would love you. Make him proud, and show them that you are his true mate!"

His true mate. The words reminded her of Osman, that he had once believed that Niall was her true mate. Was Niall forced to submit to such degradation as Princess Turkhan's favorite as she was forced to here in Kedar's harem? Skye pushed the troubled thoughts from her mind. She had at last met Hamal, and she was confident that he would shortly contact her and arrange their-her and Niall's-escape from Fez. In the meantime she must concentrate on getting through the rest of the afternoon. Quickly she removed her clothing.

Skye stood silent and still as Zada did up her hair, and Talitha's and helped them with the headpieces. She watched the other woman as she affixed the belt with the horse's tail, and then copied her by putting on her own. The mane and tail were a silky ebony black, and shone quite effectively against her gardenia-white skin.

Mischievously Talitha tossed her golden mane, which complimented her own golden beauty. "Any eunuch who bets against you will lose his dinars," she remarked, "yet I wonder if Kedar can contain his lust until he is in you."

"Hush!" Skye scolded her. Suddenly seeing the humorous side of the situation, she began to giggle.

Talitha chuckled back at her. "I know just what you are thinking, Muna. You are aware that men can be fools, are you not?"

"Yes," came the reply, "now be silent lest I disgrace myself with a fit of laughter down there, which I can assure you will be far worse than if I trembled and wept."

Dagan returned with a headpiece and tail for Zada, who had torn off her clothing in her eagerness. They waited the few minutes it took the slave girl to prepare, and then followed Dagan downstairs and outside to the mares' meadow.

"Go into the center of the meadow, and I will tell the master that you have come," Dagan whispered.

The three women picked their way through the others, and reaching the center of the green lawn, they knelt down on all fours. Talitha had a rather bored look upon her face. She had done this Allah only knew how many times before, and it all seemed rather silly to her. Kedar visited her couch often enough to keep her from being totally frustrated, for she had been his first woman and he still found her rather attractive and exciting. She had never fawned over him like the others, and he found her elusiveness intriguing.

Zada, on the other hand, was trembling with excitement at the thought that the master might honor her. She was not a virgin but it had been some time since she had had a man, although Dagan liked to fondle her, and push his supple fingers into her until she whimpered with pleasure. It wasn't the same, however, as having a real man's weapon shoved up inside you, Zada thought, and prayed that she would be fortunate.

Skye simply knelt, resigned to the fact that Kedar meant to have her else they would not have been called to the meadow. At least the grass felt cool beneath her hands and knees.

She heard a horse whinny near her, and then Zada gasped. Turning her head just slightly for a moment, Skye saw Kedar mounted upon her servant, pounding hard into her. Zada's face was a study in pure bliss, and Skye turned away, ashamed that women could be driven to welcome such degradation. With a moan that could only be described as rapturous Zada collapsed into the lawn, and Kedar moved on to enjoy Talitha. A small boy eunuch hurried along with the master, wiping the spendings from his encounter away with a soft cloth moistened in rosewater, finishing just as they reached Talitha. Kedar circled the kneeling woman, snorting and pawing. Talitha responded by pretending to shy away with a nervous little nicker. With a grin Kedar pounced upon her, thrusting quickly back and forth until she too collapsed with a little shriek. The little eunuch swiftly refreshed his master, and then Kedar's eyes swept to Skye.

She braced herself discreetly for his assault. As with Talitha, he first circled her, and unable to help herself, Skye shifted nervously on the grass. Kedar snorted an equine warning and moved closer, nuzzling at her bottom, causing her to start warily. His big hands now closed over her hips, and she felt his hardness beginning to prod at her. She tensed, remembering her first husband, who had punished her when it pleased him by forcing her in the Greek fashion, but Kedar was not interested in loving her as he might a boy. With unerring skill he found her woman's passage, and drove deeply into her. Slowly he began to move back and forth within her, growing more excited as the moments passed. She knew she could not remain passive and please him, and so she began to tighten her vaginal muscles about him, teasingly nipping at him with the devil's bite. With a growl he pushed her down upon the grass, and bit at her neck. "Vixen," he murmured, and then his passion burst within her.

They lay sandwiched together for some moments, and then he whispered in her ear, "I waited all afternoon for you to return so I might have you, my jewel. You have spoiled me for the others, you beautiful bitch. I am only satisfied by you."

Her heart was still hammering wildly, but she knew that she was expected to respond to such ardor. "What a wonderful day you have given me, my lord. First the bazaars, and now your loving. I am the most fortunate of women!"

"You do not mind that I have taken you before the others?"

"I prefer that our love be between us alone, my lord, but I am not ashamed to show it before the others. You will, however, make them even more envious of me than they already are."

He rolled off of her and, standing up, pulled her up with him. His arm was wrapped tightly about her waist, her breasts pushing against his side. She looked up at him, her sapphire eyes never wavering, and Kedar wanted to ravish her once more where they stood, she excited him so. "The day is not yet ended, my jewel," he murmured, and bent to kiss her slowly and tenderly. "I adore you, my fair Muna," he said low, and then, releasing her, called to the others, “The games are ended, my pets. Return to the harem, all of you but Talitha and Muna."

The women began trooping back into the house while the young eunuch sponged down his master with rosewater, and Dagan and Min'da removed the trappings of the games from Talitha and Muna. They then loosed the women's hair, and after brushing it out, took a small portion of it from the center of their heads and braided it with a strand of small pearls. Kedar put an arm around both of his favorites, and they began to walk slowly back to his quarters. It seemed not to bother him that they were all nude.

"You have both pleased me greatly of late," he said expansively, "and so I have a special treat for you. Today while you shopped in the bazaars I had a visit from my brother, Hamal. He brought with him an invitation to dinner at Princess Turkhan's palace. The princess, it seems, has become interested in expanding her own trading empire. Right now she sends her goods to the coast via the services of others, but Hamal has convinced her that she should save a great deal of money if she had her own caravans. I would not have thought that my brother had a head for business, but it seems that he may. He has told her that if she would send her own people to the coast to buy and sell then I am the best man to speak with about it.

“Two days from now I am invited, and of course if I go for the evening meal then I am also invited to remain the night, for it would be too dangerous to travel the streets after dark. The invitation allows that I may bring two of my favorites with me to make my night a pleasant and happy one. I have chosen you two, Talitha and Muna."

"My lord Kedar," Talitha quickly spoke up. "How generous you are!"

Skye's heart was pounding wildly, but she controlled herself so she might speak her gratitude also. "My lord Kedar, we are unworthy of such pleasure. How can we thank you?"

He stopped and, smiling down into her upturned face, said, "By giving me a preview tonight of the pleasures you will give me two nights from now. You and Talitha are perfectly matched with your white and gold skins. It would give me great pleasure to see you make love to each other before I take you both."

For a moment Skye thought she had not heard him right, and then realizing that she had, the world began to crumble about her. She was tumbling back through the years to a time when she had surprised her first husband in an incestuous act with his sister Claire; and they had seen her; caught her and raped her. She had had a horror of any intimacy with a woman since then. It had been months in fact before she could even let her maid touch her. Now she was being faced with the thing in the world she feared most.

Talitha saw her turn her white face, and sensed instantly that something was very wrong. "My lord Kedar," she said, "you know that I would not spoil your pleasure for the world, but I do not believe that Muna has ever made love with another woman. She is apt to be clumsy at first, unless, of course, you will excuse us for the next two days so I may school her to please you. It will be well worth the wait, I promise you," she tempted him, and then bent and bit at his shoulder in a provocative manner looking up teasingly at him from beneath her thick lashes. "Did the girl you took before you delighted me this afternoon please you? She is Muna's maidservant, and really quite mad for you, my lord. She would keep you amused this night, I vow."

Kedar licked his lips in anticipation. He was disappointed, but he knew that Talitha was right. It would be better if Muna had some knowledge of what would be required of her, and the little Berber savage had been a hot piece. She might prove an enjoyable one-night diversion. "Very well," he growled, "but see you teach her well, Talitha." He gave them each an affectionate pat on their bare bottoms. "Go to your own quarters, and send the Berber girl to me."

"Of course, my lord, immediately," Talitha murmured soothingly, and grasping Skye's hand firmly, she hurried her off before Kedar could change his mind.

"I can't do it," Skye protested as they re-entered the harem. "I simply cannot do it!"

"You do not have a choice, Muna. I saw how horrified you were, and so I rescued you before you did something foolish like refuse Kedar. I know it still chafes at you, having once been a free woman, but you are no longer free. Kedar has the power of life and death over you, and you know that he is not an easy man. If he desires that we make love together for his amusement, then you have no choice but to obey him. Do not worry. I will show you what to do, and it will not be so terrible, I promise you."

"No," Skye said. "I would rather die."

They had reached Skye's chamber, and Talitha pulled her into the room, commanding Zada as she did so, 'The master desires your company, fortunate one. Hurry lest you keep him waiting and displease him." With a little cry of delight Zada ran from the room, and Talitha turned back to Skye. "Have you gone mad?" she snapped at her. "If it pleased Kedar to kill you he would do it so painfully that your last hours would seem like years. Are your childish scruples worth that, Muna?"

"Once," Skye said in a small, tight voice, "once long ago, a woman forced me, and I wanted to die for the shame."

Talitha sighed. So that was it. Muna had been raped by a woman at one time in her life. "It won't be rape between us, Muna. It will be two friends seeking to give each other gentle pleasures, and nothing more. We are friends, aren't we?"

"I cannot do it," Skye whispered.

"You have to," was the equally adamant reply. "Come." Talitha put an arm about Skye, who instantly stiffened with alarm. "You will have to overcome your fears, at least to Kedar's eye. What we do means nothing, Muna. Please try."

"What will it be?" Skye asked.

"No more than a little kissing and caressing, Muna. Not really so awful. Let us sit down, and I will show you what is expected of us." She drew Skye over to a low divan, and together they sat down amid the brightly colored cushions. Gently Talitha began to caress Skye, and it was all Skye could do not to scream with her revulsion. It was not that she disliked Talitha, but the memory of Claire O’Flaherty's bestial abuse of her kept leaping to mind. She began to weep soundlessly, and seeing her tears, Talitha kissed them tenderly away. “There, my lovely friend, don't weep. It is not so awful, is it? Women are far more considerate lovers than men, Muna." She continued to speak gently to Skye for some minutes, all the while kissing and caressing her. Skye steeled herself against her embarrassment and distaste, finally admitting to herself that there simply was no other way. If she was to survive, if she and Niall were to escape safely from Fez, she must accept even this.

Talitha now began to instruct her as to what she must do, and without further protest Skye obeyed her friend. Only when they lay stretched out together on the cushions and Talitha lowered her head to kiss Skye's Venus mont did Skye resist once more. "Oh, no, Talitha! Please not there!" Talitha pushed Skye's hands away, and with a sigh Skye ceased her outcry, forcing her mind to think only of Niall Burke.

Finally Talitha said, “There! Now that was not so awful, and you were fine, Muna. Tomorrow we will practice a little more, and you must participate fully then."

“Talitha, I can force myself to stay still when you kiss and touch me intimately; but I will not be aggressive with you. I cannot; it is not my nature. I think women loving women is an unnatural thing."

"For some women it is the preferred way, Muna."

"Not for me," Skye replied. "Not ever!"

"You prefer Kedar?"

"I prefer a man's touch."

Talitha laughed at the way Skye had avoided her question, but held her peace. "Let us eat the evening meal together after we visit the baths," she said. "From the look in Kedar's eye your Zada will not be back until morning, and I will wager he shortly sends for others, too. You would think that his little games in the mares' meadow would exhaust him, but such things seem to increase his appetite rather than diminish it."

It was a relief to Skye that after their initial session of lovemaking Talitha returned to her normal self. Uncomfortable as she was, she believed that now she had met and identified herself to young Hamal her stay in Fez would soon be at an end. Then she and Niall would be free, and returning to Ireland, to their children and a normal life. She wondered if she would see Niall when she visited Princess Turkhan's palace in two days. More than likely, he would remain incarcerated behind the harem walls, and she would be kept locked with Talitha in a guest apartment. They would be so close, and yet separated. "But not for long," Skye whispered to herself. "Not for long, my love."

"What is it you say, Muna?" Talitha inquired of her.

"What?" Skye was drawn sharply from her reverie.

"You said something just now," Talitha repeated.

"I did?" Skye shook her head. "I cannot remember," she said, "and so obviously it was not important. Not important at all."

Chapter 10

Hamal led Niall Burke into the large gardens that were a part of Princess Turkhan's estate in Fez. The gardens were the only place where the two men might speak without being overheard. No one followed them to listen, for Hamal was the most trusted of the princess's slaves, and of late his companion had been far easier to manage. They strolled along a path of carefully raked marble chips, lined by tall, fragrant cedar trees. Ahead of them was a rose garden filled with brightly colored flowers. The sight of it reminded Niall of Skye, a thought he pushed from his mind. He could not afford to weaken now.

"Did your wife ever speak of her friend in Algiers, Osman the astrologer?" Hamal asked him suddenly, and Niall stopped in mid-stride.

"Yes," he said hesitantly. "Why do you ask me?"

"Osman is my uncle, Ashur. Last year he came to Fez, which is his native city, in order to teach for a few months at the university. We spoke of you, and my uncle recognized who you were immediately. We decided then that you must be helped to escape. Do not cry out, my friend, but your wife is here in Fez. She is a brave woman, and from the moment she learned that you lived nothing would do but that she free you."

"Where is she?" Niall's pulses were racing madly.

"In the house of my brother, Kedar," Hamal said.

"She has brought a ransom large enough to tempt the princess?"

"Have you heard nothing we have told you these past months, Ashur? There is no ransom."

"I do not understand then," Niall replied.

"Your wife has come to Fez in order to encourage you in your escape from the princess. She could only enter the city as the member of a Fasi household so she and my uncle Osman devised a plan wherein she would pretend to be a slave girl and he would present her to my brother Kedar when he made his yearly visit to Algiers. This was done, and your wife came to Fez as a slave named Muna, in the harem of my brother Kedar."

"Christ's bloody bones!" The oath exploded from Niall's mouth without warning, and Hamal looked nervously about him.

"Be silent, Ashur!" he begged the big man. "Do you not realize the danger we are all in because of this plot? If Turkhan learns what I have done we will both die, never matter that she loves us. Think of your wife, too."

"'Tis precisely what I am thinking of, Hamal, for I am no fool to believe that a man who would sell his own brother into slavery would bring my wife to Fez out of the goodness of his heart. Kedar is not in on this little game, is he?"

"No," Hamal replied low. "He believes her a slave, and has used her as such. She has, in fact, become his favorite, and there is talk that he will make her his only wife. I had planned to wait a little while longer in hopes that he would grow bored with her, but he grows more enamored of her with every day that passes. We no longer have the luxury of time."

“The little fool," he muttered low. "'Tis just the sort of thing that Skye would do to come after me." He smiled softly. "Wait until you see her, Hamal. She is the most beautiful woman ever created, and of even greater import is her spirit. Her spirit is unconquerable! She is a great and gallant lady, my Skye!"

"She would have to have a strong spirit to survive with my brother. Kedar is not an easy man," Hamal replied. "I spoke with your Skye two days ago in the shop of Yusef the goldsmith. How beautiful she is, though, I could not tell. She was properly muffled in a black yashmak. We will see her and my brother tonight, Ashur."

"What?!' Niall was surprised.

Turkhan has decided to expand her trading empire, has asked my brother, Kedar, to come for the evening meal. He is allowed to bring with him two women, and I expect that your wife will be one of those women. They will stay the night, and then in the morning Kedar and the princess will discuss business."

"Is there any chance that I can speak with her?" Niall's voice was hopeful.

"No, Ashur, my friend, there is no hope that you may speak with one another. Turkhan would be furious should any lovely woman speak to you, and Kedar is a fiercely jealous man." He put a friendly hand upon Niall's arm. "You will have to be very brave, my friend. It will not be easy to sit calmly paying court to Turkhan while Kedar is cared for by your wife."

"How can I possibly behave normally seeing my wife in the hands of your brother, Hamal?"

"You have children, do you not, my friend? Think of them if you will not think of yourself and your wife. Would you orphan the babes who cannot remember you? Would you deny them both their parents? Your wife must bear you a great love to have dared this deception. How often have you told me of the insurmountable obstacles that you and your Skye overcame in order to be together? Before you destroy the small chance you have of being together once again think of what she has gone through for you, and do not let her sacrifice be a vain one, Ashur."

Niall sighed. "Why are you helping me, Hamal? Is it merely so you may have Turkhan to yourself again?"

Hamal smiled at the question. "You are the first serious rival I have had for Turkhan's affections, Ashur. None of the others mean anything to her. They are passing fancies, toys, simple amusements. You, however, are a different animal. I am not afraid of you, for I know that your heart is elsewhere and always will be, even if you are forced to spend the rest of your life among us. Were I certain that I might have rid myself of you by the usual harem means, I would have; but had any harm befallen you, I would have been under immediate suspicion. Though you know it not, I have twice saved your life. Turkhan's pretty pets are a jealous lot, my friend.

"I love Turkhan, and I always have. Although Kedar does not know it, I went out of my way to bring myself to Turkhan's attention three years ago. In the beginning I saw becoming her favorite as a means to gain my own place in this world. Kedar would never have shared our father's wealth with me, and had I allowed him to see how really intelligent I am, he would have kept me beneath his thumb for all my days. I would have never been really free.

"When I came to the princess I intended to work my way into her favor, and eventually gain control of her wealth for myself. I am, in truth, the product of my brother's upbringing. But I had had very little experience with women other than stolen kisses and fondlings of the slave girls in Kedar's house. I was a virgin when I arrived in Turkhan's bed; a fifteen-year-old boy who, despite his outward face of confidence, was in actuality quite terrified. What if I failed her, and she sent me from her forever?

"She was nineteen then, and very experienced. Experienced enough to know that I was untutored. She was gentle and kind, Ashur. She taught me to make love as the Turks make love, and I began to gain skill and faith in myself. I also fell genuinely in love with Turkhan.

"I still mean to have her wealth, and to run her trading empire. My time is almost near, Ashur, for when you leave her she will be devastated and turn to me for comfort. Then I will act, and become a free man once more, rid Turkhan of her harem, and make her my wife. That is how it should be. I will never take other women into my life, for she is all the woman I ever want, but I must be all the man she wants."

Niall looked at Hamal with new respect. Until this moment he had believed him just a soft and kindhearted boy. Now he knew better, and it frankly surprised him. "How will you help us to escape?" he said, coming directly to the point.

Hamal spoke in a controlled voice. "It will take a few more weeks to complete my arrangements, but I plan that Turkhan shall insist that Kedar escort her personally from here to Algiers through the Taza Corridor, so the princess may see the route herself and visit the port city. That is when you and your wife shall both escape, for I am certain neither the princess nor my brother will travel without their favorites."

Niall could feel himself trembling with excitement. Hamal made it sound so simple, so easy. How could he wait a few more weeks? His heart beat erratically, and he drew several deep breaths to calm himself. "I think that I need some of Rabi's special brew," he said to Hamal. "I am as eager as a virgin for her bridegroom."

"Yes," Hamal answered. "You must not betray us, Ashur, by any unduc show of enthusiasm. Let us return to the palace now, and seek out Rabi and her sherbets. They will soothe you, and take the edge from your excitement. We will speak again, and I will fill in all the details that you must know."

Back within his own chambers, Niall eagerly downed the special fruit sherbet that old Rabi had made for him, his hands trembling as they clutched at the cup. Skye! Tonight he would see Skye! She knew that he lived, and she had, brave and bonny lass that she was, come to aid him. God's bones, how he loved her!

Rabi noted his mood, and commented, "How excitable you are today, Ashur. What has made you so?"

"Hamal tells me that his brother will be visiting the princess tonight, and that we are going to be allowed to have the evening meal with them. I am excited that my lady Turkhan trusts me enough to allow me such an honor. I am also curious to see the brother of my friend."

Rabi cackled and, standing above him, stroked his dark hair in a motherly fashion. "Indeed, my handsome charge, you are being allowed a very special privilege. Not only will Hamal's brother be there, but his two beautiful favorites as well."

“They cannot possibly rival my princess for beauty," Niall said quickly.

Rabi cackled again, this time with delight. "You are falling in love with her, Ashur! It is good! It is good!" The old woman lowered her voice, and spoke confidentially. "Please her, and you will soon control her. Give her a child, and you will be master of this harem! Your fortune will be made, Ashur, and not even the gentle Hamal will surpass you in power!" She patted his arm, nodding wisely. "Rest now, my big one, and I will call you in time."

He didn't argue, sleeping easily for several hours before Rabi woke him and hurried him off to the baths. There, he allowed the elderly women who served as bath attendants to wash him, all the while enduring the hostile stares of the other young men in the harem. Turkhan kept about twenty males in addition to Hamal and himself. Most were of Mid-eastern extraction, but the princess did have a red-haired Venetian, two Greeks, a blond and over-muscled young Swedish boy who, like Niall, had been taken from a galley, a surly Russian, and two slender blacks from the forests to the far south. That they were jealous of him was very apparent. Since Niall had arrived the princess had spent much time with him, at their expense. They refrained from any open action now because they had already tried once to teach this upstart his place, only to have been badly mauled by the infuriated Niall. They had also been whipped by their furious mistress, and threatened with being sold off. More subtle means had been blocked by Hamal who, after their second attempt at poisoning Niall, had threatened to tell Turkhan if it happened again. That would mean an excruciatingly painful death, and none was willing to risk that. So the men of the princess's harem vented their frustration on Niall through verbal means.

"How does an Irishman fuck?" one of the Greeks said.

"Like a pig," the other answered.

"No, my friend. Pork is forbidden a true believer, and our fair princess is a true believer."

"Then he must fuck like the dog he is," a dark-eyed Egyptian said.

Niall smiled pleasantly at the group of men. "I thought that only Greeks fucked each other like the dogs they are," he said. "As for the rest of you," and he looked mockingly at them, "you've nothing left to fuck with, impotent eunuchs that you are. No wonder that Turkhan prefers only Hamal and myself. Hell, my infant son had a bigger pizzle than any of you have."

"If it weren't for the potion that old witch gives you, Ashur, you wouldn't even be able to get it up," the Venetian snarled.

"Rabi's potion but gives me extra strength to please my princess with, Ibrahim. Pity you'll never again have the chance." Then with another smile he walked out of the baths, leaving the others behind to fume with a rage they couldn't exhibit lest they anger their mistress. Staring after Niall admiringly, the old bath women chuckled with glee at the exchange.

Rabi was awaiting him, and carefully rubbed musk oil into his sun-bronzed skin until it gleamed and shone with a rich color. Niall enjoyed sunning himself in the gardens, and the dark tan he had now achieved only made his marvelous silver-gray eyes more silvery. He walked and swam regularly, which had kept him from growing fat like several of the harem men who were content to loll about; but his big slender body was of late growing a trifle too lean, for his appetite had fallen off. Still, his bronze skin, dark hair, and silvery eyes combined with his basically sound body to insure his good looks.

Rabi handed him balloon-legged white silk pantaloons, the ankles embroidered with three-inch bands of gold threads, small pearls, and rubies. About his waist was fitted a belt of gilt leather, six inches wide, its rectangular buckle studded with rubies. Niall's feet were shod in gold leather slippers with turned-up toes, and about his neck was hung a heavy gold chain with a heart-shaped pendant carved from a large dark red ruby that lay upon his bare chest. Upon both of his upper arms the old woman clasped wide gold arm bands. Niall felt somewhat ridiculous outfitted as he was, but he knew that it was the fashion here in Fez as much as horsehair padding was in the clothing of European men at the courts of England, Spain, and France. Sipping at the sweet grape sherbet that Rabi had given him, he wondered if Skye would laugh when she saw him, but then he considered what she would be wearing, and felt his anger rise for a moment only to slide away. There was nothing that he could do about it. Soon. Soon they would be together again, and all would be as it once had been.

"You are the handsomest man I have ever seen," Rabi said admiringly as she brushed musk into Niall's dark, wavy hair.

“They are a handsome pair," remarked Selwa, the female eunuch who attended to Hamal. "Look to my little lamb, Rabi. Is he not magnificent tonight?"

Hamal grinned sheepishly as he burlesqued a twirl. He was as exquisitely garbed as Niall, but his pantaloons were of midnight blue silk, the ankle bands embroidered in silver and studded with tiny diamonds and sapphires. About his neck hung a silver chain with an incredibly opulent pendant, a quarter moon carved from a single enormous diamond with a long sapphire star hanging above it. His belt and his slippers were of silvered leather, both studded with sapphires and diamonds. Hamal was as fair of skin as Niall was bronzed with the sun, for Fasi men of the upper classes abhorred sun on their skins, thinking it a mark of the peasants.

"Come, Ashur," Hamal said. "We cannot be late, as Kedar is always on time." He grinned mischievously at the two old women as they departed the chamber. "Have a delightful evening torturing the other women as to the failure of their charges," he teased Selwa and Rabi, and they chortled gleefully, indicating that was exactly what they intended to do.

"Is she here?" Niall asked Hamal nervously.

"Yes," was the short reply, "but you must remember, Ashur, that you can show no recognition of your wife. Whatever happens you must show nothing except devotion to Turkhan. My brother is very, very possessive of his Muna. Let him catch you in so much as a glance, and he will destroy you himself. If either of you betrays the other I can do nothing to help you, nor will I even attempt to aid you. If you will not think of yourself you must think of her."

Niall nodded. "I understand, my friend, but you must promise not to be jealous of me tonight. I shall dedicate myself to the princess, and make her the happiest of women."

"Do not hurt her, Ashur." Hamal's soft brown eyes were filled with concern.

"How can I avoid hurting her, Hamal? If I am to succeed in our plan I must appear to be totally enamored of her. She must be completely certain of me, Hamal. Do not fret, my young friend. It has been my experience that women's hearts may be bruised, but they are seldom broken. She will appreciate you far more, having been betrayed by me."

Hamal sighed with regret, but he knew that his companion spoke the truth. Better Ashur love Turkhan well before he made good his escape. Turkhan would be furious that something she desired did not after all desire her, but the time had come for him to make his move; his princess must begin to behave like the woman she was instead of a spoiled tyrant. She might be an Ottoman princess and have more freedom than any other woman save the Sultan's mother, but she was still a woman. Sultan Selim II was at fault for allowing Turkhan to remain unmarried. Hamal smiled to himself. He would soon change all of that.

They had reached the dining chamber, a lovely rectangular room with half-tiled walls of sky blue and white, above which rose rough white-plaster walls. The dark ceiling beams were intricately carved, and the wide-beamed floors were covered in thick wool rugs woven in a medallion design of gold and deep blue on a dark red background. They entered the room by walking down two steps. Two low, polished ebony tables had been set directly opposite the entry, behind which lay a number of brightly colored cushions in silk, wool, and cotton. The room was lit by large wall torches that had been fitted into carved golden holders. In each corner of the room stood tall gold censers burning pungent incense, and in the center of each table was a low crystal vase filled with fragrant pink lilies.

Turkhan had reached the room only a moment before the two men, and aiming, she cried out with delight at their costumes. "You are magnificent, both of you!" she purred with approval.

"And you, my Princess," Niall murmured almost reverently, "fill my eyes with such incredible and flawless beauty that I am struck blind by the sight."

Turkhan colored in surprise. "Why, Ashur," she said softly, "you are beginning to speak like a Persian poet."

Hamal shifted uncomfortably. He thought that Turkhan was behaving like a young girl. She was almost simpering. Then he realized that he was jealous. Ashlar's very flattering remark had pleased her before he might even comment. He suddenly realized that Ashur had been not jesting when he warned him not to be jealous of him this evening.

Turkhan did not notice her young favorite's quiet mood. "Let us seat ourselves before my guest and his women arrive," she said. Garbed in a cloth of silver djellabah whose deep V neckline and wide sleeves were embroidered with small black pearls and pink sapphires, she was looking quite beautiful this night. Her red-gold hair was dressed in two long narrow braids that were looped up on either side of her face, and a long cape of hair that had been dusted with diamond dust streamed down her back. From her dainty ears hung pink sapphires set in silver.

"Are my brother's women to join us?" Hamal inquired curiously.

"It did not seem fair that I deny him their company as I have yours, my lamb," Turkhan said.

"Have you seen them?"

Turkhan laughed. "How well you know me, Hamal. Yes, I watched them through the peephole in their quarters. Both are quite lovely. Tonight if you are very good, my darlings, we shall watch the unsuspecting Kedar as he makes love to his women. I am told that he is considered a highly skilled lover. Perhaps you will both learn something from him that will please me," she teased them.

Niall felt a chill sweep over him. "You have a secret peephole in the guest quarters?" he asked.

Turkhan laughed. "Of course I do. My grandmother Khurrem said that such things were invaluable when you wish to know more about a guest than they wish to reveal."

Suddenly the princess's eunuch majordomo announced, "The lord Kedar, my Princess."

Turkhan looked lazily up from beneath her thick black lashes as Kedar and his women entered the room. "You are welcome to my house, Kedar ibn Omar," she said. "Pray be seated so the meal may begin."

"I am honored by your invitation, Highness. I hope that I may be of assistance to you." Kedar seated himself, and impatiently waved Skye and Talitha to their seats, one on either side of him.

With a swift look Skye saw Niall on one side of the princess. Her heart leapt almost painfully within her chest, for he did not look well. Quickly she lowered her eyes lest anyone see her anger at the proprietary way in which Turkhan openly caressed Niall.

"You would not be here in my house, Kedar, were I not sure that you could be of assistance to me," Turkhan said sharply. "Your brother has assured me that your knowledge of trading routes to the coast exceeds that of anyone else in Fez. Hamal has always been trustworthy."

Kedar felt a surge of impotent anger sweep over him at her bold words. That a mere woman could speak to him in such a tone infuriated him. Ottoman princess or no, if he had her in his power for even a single night he would have her tamed and begging for mercy. Instead, he was forced to give a pleasant reply, but both Hamal and Turkhan had seen the quick anger that had flashed for a moment in his eyes. "I am pleased that my young brother is such a source of joy to you, Highness. I raised him myself."

Turkhan smiled sweetly, but there was a triumphant look in her eyes that Kedar did not miss, and he ground his teeth in frustration. Seeing that her master was incensed, Talitha leaned forward, took the cup that had been placed before him, and held it to his lips. "Drink, my lord," she said, and then in a lower tone: "You cannot offend the princess, my lord. Calm yourself, I beg of you."

Kedar turned to look at Talitha, and he nodded his agreement. He took the cup and drank a long draught of the icy and tart lemon water. "You are wise, Talitha," he said, "with a wisdom that matches your beauty." His hazel eyes scanned her, and the anger drained away. She was most beautiful this evening, and her costume extremely flattering, and pleasing to his eye. She was garbed all in sheer pale-gold silk. Her pantaloons were edged at the ankles in tiny sparkling topaz which matched the topaz sewn to her cloth-of-gold hip sash and her satin bolero. She wore a long-sleeved blouse with a soft open neckline that matched her see-through pantaloons. A headdress of gold chains and twinkling topaz formed a fitted cap over her short-cropped curb. She was everything that a woman should be, and Kedar was delighted with her, for he felt she brought honor upon him.

A leg of baby lamb was brought out and offered to them. Next followed saffron rice, artichokes in olive oil and tarragon vinegar, haunch of young gazelle in raisin sauce, pigeon pie, capon with lemon, and new peas with small onions. A platter of sizzling kebobs made of kid, green peppers, and small onions was passed; and blue and white Fezware bowls of yogurt and purple and green olives were set upon each table.

"You will forgive the simplicity of the meal," Turkhan said.

"A well-cooked meal is never simple," Kedar replied, "and your cook prepares well." He opened his mouth to take the piece of lamb that Muna was feeding him. He was feeling expansive now and with the constant attentions of his women, at less of a disadvantage. He beamed benevolently at Muna. Her garb-or lack of it-was as pleasing to him as was the elegance of Talitha. Muna wore diaphanous blush-pink pantaloons with pearl ankle bands. Her hip sash was of pink and silver stripes, and above the waist she was nude. Her small, perfect breasts, their nipples stained with carmine, thrust forward proudly. Her waist-length hair was loose, held only with a narrow silver band at her forehead. For a moment Kedar's eyes lingered on Muna's breasts, and he thought of the pleasure she had given him over these last few months, of the pleasure she would give him this night.

Skye's eyes again stole across the room to feast for a brief moment upon Niall. She knew that he must be feeling foolish in his Eastern dress, and she wished she could tell him how magnificent he appeared with his tanned chest. He looked thinner, and she wondered if he was getting enough to eat, then chided herself for a fool. If only he would look at her instead of paying such outrageous attention to the red-haired princess. Skye thought if her husband touched Turkhan with another intimate touch, or gave her one more secret smile, that she was going to throw herself across the room and strangle the smug bitch! Kedar's voice snapped her back to her role.

"The princess sets a satisfactory table, but I should far rather feast upon your flesh, my jewel." His voice was husky with desire.

She raised her sapphire eyes to him, and smiled a slow and seductive smile. "Would you shame me before that woman, my lord?" she murmured low. "I am for your pleasure only, and not the eyes of prying voyeurs, my lord." Her red mouth pouted adorably, and Kedar wanted her desperately. Her pure female fragrance wafted up at him, and he grew dizzy thinking of what it felt like to be deep inside of her.

Niall Burke stared for a second at his wife, and ground his teeth silently as Kedar fondled her with a familiar hand. In his mind he had accepted what Skye had done in order to reach him, but accepting the fact was far different from watching the reality. Hamal's brother was an attractive man, and obviously a potent one. He openly handled Skye with the pleasure of a man who is fond of his favorite possession; and she seemed to enjoy it. She smiled seductively at him, and murmured in a low musical voice words that could not be distinguished. Niall wanted to leap the distance between himself and Kedar so he might stick a knife into the bastard's gullet.

"You are deep in thought, Ashur," Turkhan's voice brought him back.

"I dream of tonight, if I dare, my princess." He touched her face with the back of his hand, smoothing it over her soft skin.

“Tonight," she whispered conspiratorially, "we shall spy upon our guest, the three of us, and then we shall all play together, my glorious one. I shall exceed your dreams, Ashur, my beloved."

Boldly Niall leaned forward and kissed her upturned mouth quickly. "Your pardon, my Princess, but I could not resist."

Turkhan laughed shakily, and tapped his cheek with a long sharp nail in mock chastisement. Then she turned to Kedar. "Which of these women is the one Hamal tells me your uncle in Algiers gave you?" she asked him.

"You may present yourself to the princess," Kedar said to Skye.

She arose gracefully, walked across the floor, and fell to her knees in total obedience. "Highness, I am Muna," she said, her head bowed to the floor, her body bent.

"Stand up so I may see you, girl! You are reputed to be most fair, but how can I tell when you are in that position?"

Skye stood up, and posed tall and proud before Princess Turkhan. Her chin was high, her silken hair flowing about her like a dark cape. Her beautiful eyes, however, were lowered lest she offend her hostess.

Turkhan let her glance slide critically over the woman who stood before her. That she was extravagantly beautiful was irritatingly obvious. Her well-shaped limbs were quite visible through the gossamer of her pantaloons, and Turkhan could see that she was finely made. "Where did your uncle obtain such a prize?" she demanded of Kedar.

"She was a captive in Algiers, Highness," he answered. "It was by chance he saw her, and knew that she would please me, which she well does."

"You have trained her that quickly?"

"She is of noble birth in her own land, and really quite intelligent," Kedar replied. They spoke about Skye as if she were not even in the room, or worse, were an inanimate object; and as they blithely continued to discuss her fine points, Skye let her eyes stray to Niall once more.

Her heart struggled within her as he stared directly back at her, his silvery eyes bright with his longing. She felt tears pricking behind her eyes, and she fought furiously to keep them from showing. Niall! She cried his name silently.

Dear God, he thought, how can she be so very beautiful despite everything? Oh, sweetheart, I want you so much! If only they might make good their escape this very minute. Instead, he would be forced to watch while another man made love to his wife. If that didn't drive him mad then nothing ever would. I love you, Skye, he said in his heart.

Kedar was holding forth. "Each one of my women has a weakness, Highness. It is always useful to discover what form of pain terrifies. I would never whip Muna, even with a carefully plied lash, for just look at her skin. Turn, my jewel, and let the princess see." Skye moved obediently, dragging her eyes reluctantly away from Niall. "You see, Highness, the skin is flawless. It would be a crime against Allah himself to destroy such beauty wantonly, and yet still a deterrent is needed. In Muna's case it is the bastinado. She does not like the bastinado-do you, my jewel?"

"No, my lord," Skye whispered.

"You have used it on her?" Turkhan was interested.

"Have you ever known a willing captive?" Kedar remarked. "In Muna's case I must admit that she was a trifle reluctant, but of course that is no longer so-is it, my jewel?"

“Thou sayest, my lord," Skye replied.

"I prefer the use of opiates and hashish myself," Turkhan said. "To use physical force upon a slave is an admission of having lost control." She looked at Skye casually. "You may return to your master, girl. Now my beautiful Ashur was not easy at all-were you, my handsome one? Until recently he fought me at every turn, but then he finally accepted his fate. He has been my joy ever since."

"A man that powerful could be dangerous, Highness," Kedar said. "Better he were in the mines, or sat upon an oarsman's bench in a galley. I wonder that you keep such a creature about."

"Ashur illustrates my point perfectly, Kedar. I have never physically mistreated him. I have not had to, for my sherbet and special comfits keep him totally under control. If you do not believe me then ask your brother."

"Why even bother to argue the point further," Hamal said. "You both have your methods, and they work for you. You are content with Muna, my brother, and you with Ashur, my Princess." He smiled his sweet smile at both of them. "Kedar," he continued, "will you speak a little to my Princess of the trading routes that you use when going to the coast?"

The servants began to clear away the remnants of the meal from the low tables, and to replace the main course with bowls of fresh fruits. There were bunches of fat, green grapes, perfect little pink-gold apricots, big dark figs, and sticky-sweet dates. There were plates of ram's horn pastries, and bowls of pistachio nuts and sugared almonds. A wizened old man squatted in a corner making coffee, which was soon served in tiny porcelain cups. The coffee was incredibly hot, and very bitter.

"You must drink at least two cups," Talitha said as she heavily sugared both their cups. "Kedar will expect a full performance from us tonight. It would not do to disappoint him, Muna."

Skye drank the coffee with the air of one condemned. She had practiced making love with Talitha for two days now, but she could still not reconcile herself to the act of intimacy with another woman. She knew that there were women in this world who much preferred women lovers, but Skye O'Malley was simply not one of them. She dreaded what was to come, and had thought hard as to how she might escape the onerous task without offending Kedar. She had not, however, been able to find an excuse that he would consider acceptable.

The princess had not arranged for entertainment, and so after they had finished the meal they sat but a brief time talking before Turkhan arose, putting an end to the evening. "Tomorrow, Kedar ibn Omar, we will speak more fully. Your brother will bring you to me. Good night." She left the room trailed by her two favorites.

Kedar might have been irritated at having been dismissed so perfunctorily; but the good meal and his two women had mellowed him. He was feeling very relaxed, and was now ready to begin a round of sensual adventures. Followed by Talitha and Muna, he hurried from the dining room and back to his own chambers. As they entered the room Zada and Dagan rushed forward to serve their master and his concubines.

"Bathe quickly," Kedar commanded them. "You also, Zada."

When they were safely in the women's bath Talitha remarked, "He is in rare form tonight if he wants all three of us. We shall be lucky to satisfy him by dawn. Most men grow less passionate with the advance of the years, but Kedar grows more so. Imagine what he will be like at sixty, although I don't expect we shall be here to see it!" Then she and Zada laughed, but Skye didn't think it very funny.

"Be silent," she said to them. "The lord Kedar is with Dagan just on the other side of this wall, being bathed himself. What if he should hear you, and be offended?"

"You are correct," Talitha said, and the three grew silent as they washed themselves. When they had finished they cleaned their teeth with ground pumice, chewed several mint leaves to sweeten their breaths, and brushed their hair free with brushes moistened in musk and attar of roses. Then, not bothering to dress, they returned to the bedchamber where Kedar, similarly refreshed by Dagan, awaited them comfortably seated upon his couch smoking hashish through a water pipe. The gray-blue smoke perfumed the room and curled gracefully up about his head. He, too, was unclothed.

Kedar's pulse was racing, and as his glance flicked over the three women he felt his excitement rising fast. His original intention was to have Talitha and Muna make love while he amused himself with the Berber girl, Zada; but as he took in the nude beauty of the three women it suddenly dawned on him how much the tall, slender Talitha with her short-cropped black curls resembled a young boy, and how ultrafeminine the full-bosomed and full-hipped Zada was. Let them make love, he thought, while he amused himself with his delicious Muna.

"I have changed my mind, Talitha. You will couple with Zada. Muna, my jewel, sit by my side, and let us watch." He patted the cushions next to him, and feeling the relief wash over her, Skye sat down gratefully. Kedar slipped an arm about Skye's waist, and nibbled a moment upon her ear. "I am too jealous to allow anyone else, even my faithful Talitha, to touch you," he whispered to her, and then looking at the other two, he snapped, "Begin! Talitha will play the boy, and Zada the maiden."

"As my lord commands," Talitha murmured, smiling, and then she embraced Zada, kissing her soundly upon the mouth. Zada responded quite avidly, wrapping her arms about Talitha's neck and pressing her lush form against her partner's elegant one. As the two women began to fondle each other Kedar began to stroke Skye's breasts, and she was able to look away from her two companions in order to concentrate upon Kedar. He, however, kept his eyes glued to the two women and did not notice Skye's distaste.

In the few days since Kedar had taken Zada, the maidservant had become quite impossible. Kedar's attentions had convinced her that she was in his favor as much as Talitha or Muna. She would, Skye knew, do anything to retain his attentions, and although Skye was repelled by the two women now writhing upon the rug before them she could not blame Zada for her actions. This was Zada's world, and the only chance she had in it was to please her master; perhaps even to bear him a son. If in order to enthrall Kedar she must do certain things, Skye knew that Zada would do them willingly.

"Look! Look!" Kedar noticed that she was not watching the two women, and forcibly turned her head.

They had, Skye thought, done just about everything possible for two women to do. They had kissed, and caressed, and licked and tickled, and sucked and rubbed each other for several long minutes; but to Skye's surprise, Talitha was now rising, and Dagan hurried forward to strap about her hips a red leather harness from which protruded an ivory dildo identical to the one Kedar occasionally made her use. The device fastened securely, Talitha knelt down over the panting Zada, spreading her short, shapely legs wide. Playing her role of the boy to the fullest, she thrust forward, pushing the dildo into her victim. Zada shrieked, a sound of both pain and delight, as Talitha moved back and forth upon her, and Kedar's excited breathing rasped sharply as he leaned forward to get a closer view. Glancing down, Skye saw that his own masculine weapon was poised firmly forward.

"My lord, you are hurting me," she whispered as his hands cruelly crushed her soft breasts.

His grip loosened, but he did not for several moments turn his head from the two women performing before him upon the thick rugs. When finally Talitha collapsed upon Zada, Kedar let out a long sigh of obvious satisfaction, and once more turned his attention to his companion. He tsked to himself over the red welts his rough fingers had imprinted upon Skye's tender, creamy flesh. Pushing her back amid the cushions on the couch, he fastened his mouth over her nipple, and sucked forcefully while his hand vigorously teased her other one. Automatically her hand entwined in his dark hair, and smoothed down to caress the back of his neck, which she knew he liked. She could feel him against her leg, hard and demanding, but she knew that he would not take her quickly. The two other women had built his excitement high, but it had not yet peaked, and Kedar enjoyed the foreplay almost as much as the act itself.

His head lifted and moved to her other breast, which he bit at softly but sharply. She gave a small cry of protest, and in answer he rolled them off the couch onto the carpeted floor. Skye lay flat on her back as Kedar slowly rubbed his swollen maleness over her face, pausing suggestively at her mouth. She kissed the throbbing length of him with what he believed to be great fervor, and Kedar growled to the other two women. "Open her legs, and hold them wide." Skye felt her legs being grasped, and pulled up and apart, while Kedar continued to rub himself against her breasts, torso, and belly as he knelt by her side. Her arms were stretched above her head, and for the moment she felt absolutely nothing. Half her brain was with Niall, although the other half kept track of what was happening to her, and she occasionally moaned with convincing passion.

Kedar now moved himself around and between her legs. Resting on his elbows he spread her nether lips with his fingers and then his hot mouth found her and began to feast upon her sensitive woman's flesh. "Allah!" Turkhan whispered as she peered at the tableau before her. "Your brother is most inventive, my little Hamal."

"Wait, my Princess," Hamal said, "Kedar is but warming to his beautiful subject."

"You think she is beautiful?" Turkhan queried him sharply.

"Yes, I do," Hamal answered. "She is nothing like you, my magnificent mistress, but she is fair in her own foreign way. To compare you would be like making a comparison between a rose and an exotic lily. Impossible!"

Turkhan was well pleased by Hamal's little speech, and reaching out, she caressed his cheek, although her eyes never left the scene being played in the guest apartment. The slave girl was writhing and moaning in earnest now, her shapely hips pushing upward to meet her master's eager mouth. Kedar sucked aggressively upon Skye's little jewel, and his tongue then licked at her with sure strokes until she opened for him and he was able to push his tongue into her with a lingering, agonizing slowness. For several long minutes he moved his tongue back and forth within her-an exquisite torture. Finally he was no longer able to hold back his own lust, and pulling himself up, he drove into her well-prepared body.

"Allah!" Turkhan exclaimed again. "He is a bull!"

"Perhaps," Hamal teased, "Kedar should have sold himself to you and left me in charge of our father's business."

Turkhan laughed softly at his jest, but her eyes remained glued to the tiny peephole. "You are very silent, Ashur," she noted. "Are you not impressed by the lord Kedar's incredible performance with his slave girls?"

"He is too obvious, and far too heavy-handed a lover for my taste, my Princess," was Niall's tight reply, but he, too, could not take his eyes from his peephole. His anger was so great that his entire body felt icy. Strange, he thought, I should at this minute be strangling that devil who so possessively rides my wife, yet I am numb. I can barely even feel my heart, and I am so cold. So damned cold! He focused again upon Skye. Her head with its marvelous wealth of dark hair was thrown back; she was moaning audibly as she approached her peak; he could even see the distended delicate blue veins in her slender white neck. Did she enjoy Kedar's lusty attentions? Were women like men in that the fulfillment came even if the love was not there?

“This becomes tedious now," Turkhan said. "Let us go and play our own little games, my darlings. I have heard that men when they have no women to amuse themselves often put their own lances into each other. Tonight you and Hamal will amuse me thusly before I allow you to take me. Come! There can be nothing else Kedar can do after he has satisfied his passions upon his slave girl Muna."

Hamal hid a knowing smile. For all her power, Turkhan was incredibly ignorant in matters of lovemaking. Kedar was only beginning, but for Ashur's sake his younger brother did not bother to tell his mistress that. He could not really imagine how Ashur felt, but he knew what they had just witnessed was not to his friend's liking. European men had very strange ideas about their women.

In the meantime he and Ashur would have to convince the princess not to force them to the particular perversion she was so innocently suggesting. Hamal was quite sure that Ashur would be in total agreement with him, although he knew that several of the young men in Turkhan's harem often amused themselves thusly, particularly as their mistress was so engrossed these days with Ashur.

Kedar was equally engrossed with Skye at that moment. His lust was running quite high this night, its fires stoked by the delicious performance Zada and Talitha had given for him. Once, twice, three times he brought Muna to a wailing peak; but Kedar was barely satisfied. Now, he noted with some slight annoyance that she lay unconscious. He rolled away from her and lay on his back. Instantly Zada was there, flinging herself upon him with great enthusiasm. Braced upon her hands, her head thrown back, she rode him like a fury while Talitha squatted over his head and presented herself for his loving attentions. Eventually the two women exchanged places, and finally Kedar was replete with their bodies and released his first burst of passion into Talitha.

For several minutes the three lay panting with exhaustion upon the soft rugs. Zada was the first to rise, and with Dagan's aid she bathed with cool rosewater first her own sex, and then those of Talitha, Kedar, and the still unconscious Muna. When she had rejoined her master and the others Kedar said, "Help Talitha to rouse Muna from her swoon, my spicy little Berber." Zada felt a glow of pleasure at the endearment. She would do whatever he wanted, for she loved him. When Talitha began to suckle on one of Muna's breasts, Zada moved to Muna's other side and imitated the older woman. Clawing her way up from the dark depths and finding her two companions thus engaged, Skye wondered if she would survive this orgy. She had never seen Kedar so aroused, and she was more frightened now than she had ever been in her months with him. She had to survive! She had to! She was so close to success!

The night became a blur of sensuality where one body blended into another; and one sexual act followed another so closely that she soon became confused as to who did what to whom. She was spared the worst of it, however, for Kedar was truly jealous of anyone else, even another woman, touching her. Eventually, Skye never remembered when, they all fell into a deep sleep, the bodies tangled together. When she finally woke the sun was streaming into the room, and as Skye stretched gingerly her gaze met the very amused one of Talitha.

"So, sleepyhead, you are finally awake," the older woman greeted her.

Skye nodded. "Where is the lord Kedar?"

"Meeting with the princess. It is at least two hours past the noon hour."

“The last thing I remember is the dawn," Skye replied.

"We were up in time to see that our lord Kedar was fed and bathed properly," Zada said smugly. "You could not be roused."

"Are you so in our master's favor, Zada," Skye said sharply, "that you dare to offend me?"

“The master is pleased with me," Zada retorted pertly. "He is!”

“That is not what I asked you! Now, unless you have been relieved of your duties by the lord Kedar, you will fetch me something to eat and to drink. My mouth feels like cotton, and I am ravenous."

Zada hesitated a moment, looking to Talitha for support, but Talitha took that moment to assiduously study her long nails. Defeated, the servant girl hurried out to do Skye's bidding.

"You are stronger than you pretend to be," Talitha remarked calmly.

"You know that I am of the nobility in my own land," Skye replied. "I am used to commanding servants."

"Yet I have never seen you act so authoritatively," Talitha said. "Is it true, then, that Kedar will make you his wife?"

"I know not," Skye answered truthfully, then added to confuse Talitha, "but it will be as he, and he alone, desires. He is the master." Talitha might think what she would, but she would never be able to say that Muna said she was to be Kedar's wife. Skye stood up. "I am going to bathe."

“I’ll come with you," Talitha replied. "So far there has been little time for indulging anything other than Kedar's various appetites."

Skye laughed. "Does Kedar know how sharp your tongue is?" she asked, genuinely amused.

"No more than he knows how strong you are, Muna, my friend. Hurry now lest that little upstart Zada try to join us. I can bear no more of her chatter today. Is she never quiet?"

"No," was the short reply, and the two women departed quickly for the guest bath.

They bathed in leisurely fashion, and then returned to the apartment and ate what Zada had brought them. Kedar was still with the princess, and Talitha and Zada lay down to sleep while they could; but Skye took the opportunity to walk in the gardens that opened off of the guest quarters. The day was warm but not uncomfortable, and she enjoyed the peace and the solitude of her own company. Slowly she strolled along the carefully raked gravel paths. About her a multitude of bright flowers bloomed in exotic and riotous fashion, their many scents almost overpowering in the still air.

"My lady Muna." She heard Hamal's voice, but looking about did not see him. "I am on the other side of the hedge," came the explanation. "It is better that we not be seen talking. Just walk along. I will keep pace with you."

"Which way?" Skye asked.

"Toward the fountains at the end of the hedgerow."

"Have you some news for me, Hamal?"

"I have managed to convince both my brother and the princess of the advisability of journeying to Algiers. As I have explained to Turkhan, she cannot entrust her goods to her own caravan people until she knows the risks and variables of the trail. Since Kedar, having never over the years lost a shipment, is really the expert in this, I suggested that he go with her to aid her. Also the Dey of Algiers is an old friend of the princess's father, Sultan Selim II. He will aid her in her dealings in Algiers, and Kedar will benefit by meeting the Dey through Turkhan. Everyone will profit all around."

"What of Niall, Hamal? What of my husband?"

"The princess will take both myself and Ashur, your husband, with her."

"But how are we to escape?" Skye's voice had a nervous edge to it.

"Kedar has confided in me that he is so enamored of you that if you could not go along he would not go."

"Oh, God!" Skye whispered. "I will never escape him!"

"Courage, Muna! You must only put up with my brother for a few more months. I have already dispatched a pigeon to my Uncle Osman. Your ships will be awaiting you in Algiers. Do not fear! Has my uncle not said it was not your fate to remain in this part of the world?"

“We cannot compromise Osman," Skye said firmly.

"Do you think I am so foolish as to endanger him?" Hamal's voice sounded hurt.

"I do not like returning to Algiers," Skye fretted. "There is danger in that city for me."

"What danger?" Hamal was curious.

"My second husband was Khalid el Bey, the Great Whoremaster of Algiers. He was murdered by his best friend, Capitan Jamil, the Sultan's commandant of the Casbah fortress, in order that Jamil might possess both me and my beloved Khalid's fortune. Your uncle helped me to escape, Hamal. When Osman sent for me a few months ago, Jamil was in Istanbul. By now, however, he will have returned. If he suspects for one moment that I am there, he will attempt to exact revenge on me for spurning him."

"Even if this Jamil is there he can do you no harm," Hamal soothed her. "Kedar is not apt to let you run loose in the city, and it is unlikely that Jamil will ever meet my brother and discover that they both covet the same woman. Besides, all this happened long ago," Hamal said with the certainty and assurance of his youth. "Surely Capitan Jamil has forgotten you by now." Then he quickly amended, "Not that you are a forgettable woman."

Skye was forced to laugh. "Stop!" she begged him. "I am but thirty, and you make me feel like an old woman."

"You are thirty?" He sounded amazed, and Skye was overcome with a fresh fit of giggles.

Suddenly she felt more certain than she had in days. She had been frankly worried about escaping with Niall from Fez, and making their way alone through unfamiliar and hostile territory to the coast. She had almost been beaten down by Kedar's overpowering sensuality, but now she suddenly felt lighthearted again. She wished she might share that good feeling with Niall.

"When do you think we will be leaving, Hamal?"

"It will be at least two months before we can depart from Fez. It will take that long to prepare a caravan large enough to hold the goods of both the princess and my brother. The trip itself is at least a month. Three months at the earliest, between three and four months more likely."

"It will be necessary to create a diversion in Algiers in order that Niall and I can escape." Skye said. 'Then we will need to travel in a large convoy in order to circumvent the Dey^ corsairs. The Mediterranean is virtually an Ottoman lake. Have Osman alert my men as to our arrival."

"My uncle is right," Hamal said admiringly. "You are really an amazing woman. You know so very much about the world. In a sense I envy you your knowledge. I have lived here in Fez my entire life. I have never been more than a few miles from the city. I have never even seen the sea."

"Ask Niall to tell you about our homeland, and about England and its Queen and her court, Hamal. Now you must tell me how my husband fares. I have spoken with you on everything but that which is dearest to my heart." Skye had reached a large, azure-blue tiled fountain. The fountain was round, and filled with bright golden fish darting to and fro. In its center a crystal spray bubbled forth, shooting at least nine or ten feet into the air. Hamal was still nowhere to be seen, but Skye knew that he had not left her.

Knowing you are here heartens him, as he is distressed by seeing you with my brother."

"I was distressed at seeing him with the princess," Skye answered tardy. "He seemed to be paying her most ardent court. I had been told he was resisting her fiercely; he did not look last evening as if he were resisting her at all."

A chuckle sounded behind her. Her obvious jealousy in the face of her seeming passion for Kedar amused Hamal. "Ashur decided a small while ago that to fight Turkhan was not the proper tactic. So instead, he began to court her, and believe me, Muna, when he escapes her, Turkhan's fury will know no bounds. I imagine Kedar will feel the same way at your flight."

Skye walked slowly around the fountain, pausing a moment to dip her hand in the cool water. "Out of respect for your uncle, my dear friend Osman, I will say nothing to you of your brother but that I will be glad to escape his clutches, Hamal."

Again came the rich chuckle from the green shadows of the hedgerow. "If Kedar knew you, Muna, really knew how strong and disciplined a woman you are, he would be very frightened. If you could but be yourself, how easily you would vanquish him. I almost wish I might see it, for it would destroy him."

Skye hid a small smile as the truth dawned upon her. "You hate him, don't you, Hamal? Despite your gentle manner and soft appearance, you are as ruthless as he is; and, I think, far more clever."

"By right half of our father's wealth was mine, and yet my brother robbed me by selling me to the princess."

"Still you love Turkhan, your uncle tells me."

"Yes, Muna, I love her, but that does not wipe out Kedar's crime. As long as I am a slave I can inherit nothing. I strive for the day that Turkhan will free me. I will marry her then, claim my father's wealth from Kedar, and with Turkhan's wealth I shall be far more powerful than Kedar. He will regret having attempted to disinherit me."

"Are you not afraid I shall expose you, Hamal?"

"To whom, Muna? Not Kedar, for you care nothing for my brother. To my uncle? He would understand, I assure you. Do not fear, lady, I shall aid you and Ashur in your escape once we reach Algiers. Now I must return to the palace. Do not be frightened if I do not attempt to speak with you until we arrive in Algiers. There is no need."

"Hamal!" Skye called softly. 'Tell Niall that I love him."

"I will," came the reply.

She was alone again. She walked once more around the fountain, watching the fish flashing golden amid the crystal bubbles. Escape from Algiers was assured in Skye's mind. As much as she disliked, no, detested, spending further time with the salacious Kedar, it was a small price to pay for what in the long run was going to be a better situation for both herself and Niall. Completing her second circle of the fountain, she began to retrace her steps back along the tall green hedgerows toward the palace.

"Where have you been?!'' Kedar's fingers dug into the soft flesh of her upper arm.

For a moment anger flashed in Skye's eyes, and then a warning glance from Talitha reminded her of her situation. "I was but walking in the princess's garden, my lord. Is it not allowed? Have I breached the code of good manners?" Her voice sounded distressed and anxious.

Kedar's grip loosened somewhat. "It would have been better if you had taken Talitha or Zada with you, my jewel. I do not like you walking alone."

"Perhaps she was meeting a lover," Zada said spitefully.

With a roar Kedar rounded on her, releasing Skye as he attacked the now terrified Zada, beating her viciously about the head and shoulders.

"My lord, my lord!" Skye protested. "'Twas but the ill-considered jest of a jealous woman!"

Even Talitha, who normally would not involve herself, added her voice to Skye's in an attempt to stop Kedar. "My lord, if you kill her you will have lost a valuable slave. How often have you admonished us not to waste?"

"Owwww! Oh! Oh! Arrrrgh! Mercy, master! Mercy!" the unfortunate Zada wailed.

"Bitch! Little savage animal!" Kedar snarled. "How dare you suggest such perfidy against your mistress, your better? Do you think that because I have relieved my lust into your worthless body you are as good as she?" He cuffed her a blow on the side of the head. "You will receive twenty lashes when we return, worthless one!" So saying, Kedar shoved Zada away from him angrily.

Ignoring the fallen woman, Talitha and Skye quickly set about calming the furious Kedar. While Talitha hurried to bring him a cool and refreshing drink, Skye wiped his brow with a cloth wrung out in rosewater. "You must not be angry with Zada, my lord," she implored him. "She is but an ignorant Berber, and the honor you have done her has gone to her head."

Talitha held a goblet of lemoned sherbet to his lips, saying, "Has this sort of thing not happened before, my lord? And it will continue to happen if you will not confine yourself to your harem."

"The women of my household are there to please me," Kedar grumbled. "All of them!"

"That may be your right, my lord," Talitha persisted, "but if there is no distinction between mistress and servant then the servants will believe that they are as good as their mistresses, and this sort of thing will happen again and again."

Kedar snatched the goblet from Talitha and drained it. "You have been with me many years, Talitha, and I have never known you not to act in my best interests. I will think on what you have said."

Skye could not help but raise an eyebrow. Such a reasonable concession on Kedar's part was surprising. Talitha merely smiled, and said quietly, "You will decide what is best, my lord."

Skye did not see Niall again. They left the princess's palace in the afternoon to return to Kedar's house. In the corner of their litter Zada sat sniveling, and, finally annoyed, Talitha rebuked her sharply. "Be silent, girl! You have brought this misery upon yourself."

"Muna was meeting a lover," Zada insisted. "I saw a man in the garden walk the same way that she did."

Skye quickly debated with herself whether she should admit to meeting Hamal, and finally said, "The lord Kedar's young brother, Hamal, was on the other side of the hedgerow from me, Talitha. He but bid me good day, and returned to the palace lest he compromise me. Should I say something to our master?"

Talitha laughed. "Of course not, Muna. More likely, Hamal feared that you would compromise him with Princess Turkhan, especially now that she has shown such favor toward that handsome brute, Ashur." She turned stern eyes on the complaining Zada. "Say a word to Kedar, and I will have you poisoned, foolish one."

Zada nodded. She had no doubt that that old bitch meant every word of it. "Will I really be given twenty lashes?" she quavered.

"Probably," Talitha said drily.

"Speak to Kedar, Talitha," Skye intervened. "Zada has already been sufficiently punished.

"No," Talitha said. "She deserves to be beaten. I will try, however, to see that her sentence is cut from twenty to ten lashes."

The next few weeks passed quickly in a haze of sameness for Skye. Almost every evening, except during the period when she was considered unclean, she joined Kedar in an orgy of dark sensuality. During the day she slept heavily and long in order to counteract the debilitating effects of the previous night, and to prepare for the night to come. How Kedar kept up such a strenuous pace she did not understand. He seemed to gain his strength from the sexual encounters he had with his women. With less than five hours' sleep he was up early each morning, busily preparing for the journey back to Algiers. He had not said yet that he would take Skye, and she fretted with uncertainty as he had always left his women behind when he led a caravan before.

Finally a week before the trek was duc to begin she could bear it no longer. Kedar was feeling benevolent and relaxed that evening. Before him danced half a dozen attractive and supple girls, their sheer, rainbow-colored skirts whirling prettily as they swayed and dipped in time to the reed and drum. He was alone but for his favorite, Muna, who popped small, very sweet dates stuffed with almonds into his open mouth. She pressed her breasts suggestively against his arm, and spoke breathily into his ear.

"How I shall miss you, my lord, when you are gone to Algiers. I am not sure I can bear to be without you. Surely I shall have pined away before you return." She ran her tongue around the inside of his ear and blew softly into it.

Kedar turned his head and gazed into her gorgeous sapphire eyes, which appeared to him to be liquid in their desire for him. Her mouth was but inches away from his, and he was unable to resist kissing her. Her lips seemed to part eagerly, and her soft tongue taunted his by playing hide and seek with him, slipping out to swiftly brush against his before sliding away. Kedar felt his lust begin to build. He had not intended to take her, but as she flamed beneath his touch he suddenly realized he did not wish to be, nay, could not be without her for three to four long months. She had a hypnotic, almost druglike effect upon him. She had infected his blood much as the opium infected those who overindulged. He would take her with him! He would marry her in Algiers in his uncle's house, where he had first seen her. He knew that Osman, romantic fool he was, would enjoy that very much.

Releasing her from the kiss, he allowed her to cling possessively to him. "Did I not tell you, my jewel, that you are to go with me? The princess takes her two favorites, and I certainly cannot be without you."

Relief poured through Skye's veins, rendering her almost weak to the point of swooning. Seeing it, Kedar was pleased, and found that he was also extremely flattered. Her concern at being parted from him was obviously quite genuine, and he thought that perhaps she was falling in love with him, but she dared not say the words for fear of giving offense. Many masters of such luscious creatures sought only the willing bodies of their women, and wanted nothing more. Indeed, he knew many men who sold off the women who fell in love with them, for they did not want clinging females who grew possessive with their love. Kedar knew that his women gossiped among themselves, and undoubtedly Muna had heard such stories. Beguiled by her attitude, Kedar considered that Muna was the first woman to ever really love him, and he was further gratified. He had been wise to wait all these years. She was going to be the perfect wife. She was discreet, obedient, and incredibly sensual. What more could a man ask for? he asked himself. Whatever else it might be, the slaves could supply.

Freed of her anxiety, Skye knew she must say something. "I am so happy you will not leave me behind, my lord," she murmured, her voice soft with actual elation.

Kedar smiled into her perfumed hair. "I should not admit this to you, my jewel, but I would be bereft without your sweet company. Were I only to be gone a month though, I should not expose you to the rigors of the caravan trail. What if you are with child?"

"I am not, my lord."

"My only displeasure with you," he replied, a small frown creasing his brow.

"What does it matter?" she cajoled him. "You have several sons and daughters by your many concubines, my lord. If I grew round with child then I should not be able to grace your couch as I do now. I do not wish some other to take my place," she pouted at him.

"No one," he vowed fervently, "no one, my fair Muna, my adorable precious jewel, could possibly take your place with me!"

Skye smiled at him, and Kedar was so blinded by his growing approval of her that he did not see the cruelty in the smile. God's bones, she thought to herself, how I despise you! No. It is more than despise. I hate you, Kedar! When I flee from you with my beloved Niall I hope you suffer the tortures of the truly damned, for that is what I have suffered at your hands. Not once have you touched me with love, only with lust. You are the most depraved man I know, and I wonder if I shall ever be clean again, or really free of your touch. Still, if I may aid my dearest Niall to safely reach home, perhaps we may together free ourselves of the terrible memories this wicked land has given us, and build our lives with our children once more.

Kedar had begun to make love to her now, and Skye was still so engrossed in her own thoughts that she responded automatically. He, however, was so totally fascinated with her by now that he did not even notice. Pride of ownership surged through him, and he almost howled his triumph of possession as he quickly emptied his lust into her womb. When he fell on her breasts, panting with exhaustion, she finally noticed, and her lip curled with disgust as she wondered if she would ever get the stink of him and his unbridled passion off her skin, out of her nostrils. She shuddered, and again Kedar misinterpreted her feelings, assuming the shiver was one of satisfaction.

"We are so perfectly suited, my jewel," he said.

"Indeed, my lord," Skye replied. "Indeed."

Chapter 11

Algiers! Skye had wondered when she left Algiers those many months ago whether she would see the city again. Nor had she ever really thought to see Osman ever again, yet here he was hugging her, his eyes wet with unshed tears.

"Allah be praised, my daughter, you are safe!" He stepped back and viewed her critically. "You are thinner."

She nodded. "It has not been easy. You have seen Hamal, my friend?"

Osman nodded. "As you know, he rode in ahead of the caravan three days ago so that we might be warned of your imminent arrival. The old Dey is in quite a dither over the prospect of entertaining the Sultan's daughter. He was even prepared to invite Kedar to stay at the palace, but Hamal discouraged it, saying that Kedar was only a business acquaintance of Turkhan's, and besides, he was my nephew, and would want to stay with me. Getting your husband Niall out of the palace will be hard enough, but we should never have gotten you out."

"Are my ships here, Osman?"

"Some in port, some lying just off the coast over the horizon." Osman paused, and then said quietly, "Skye, my daughter, Jamil is back in the city."

She sucked her breath in sharply. "I knew it! I somehow sensed he would be here should I return."

"It is said that his potency is restored."

"Find me an assassin, Osman!"

"Would you have his death on your conscience, my daughter?" Osman was shocked.

"Khalid must be revenged! How his murder has haunted me all these years, Osman. I want Jamil dead! He deserves to die!"

"Perhaps," Osman agreed, "but I shall not let you make this grave error, Skye, my daughter. It was Khalid's fate to die else you would not have returned to your own land, to your own destiny. I warned Khalid the morning he told me that he was going to wed with you, but he would not listen. When he made that decision his fate was sealed; but remember, Skye, it was his right to decide his own fate. His choices were clear, and so are yours. In Allah's good time Jamil will be punished, but it is not up to you to wield the sword of justice over his head." Osman put a comforting arm about her. "How strong your passions are, Skye. You are so consumed with your thoughts of revenge it does not even occur to you that you might be in danger yourself."

"It is only logic, Osman. I am in no danger, and I know it. The memory of Skye Muna el Khalid is long gone from Algiers, and of the few who know Muna, the slave of the lord Kedar, who would connect the two? I am simply an anonymous woman, as are all respectable women in this city. If Jamil came into this house tonight, he would still not know I was here, for he would certainly not be allowed the run of your women's quarters.

"I am more concerned as to when I may see Robbie," she said.

"Not until you escape, Skye," Osman cautioned. "It is too dangerous for him to appear in my house, and I cannot take the chance that he be seen in your presence."

"Who would speak, Osman? I managed to avoid bringing anyone here from your nephew's house by pretending that I was deeply desirous of serving him personally, and could take care of myself. As a reward for my devotion, he promised to buy me half a dozen maidens to serve me here in Algiers. Talitha was eminently relieved to be left behind, and much to Kedar's annoyance, that chatterbox, Zada, found herself with child and had to be left behind."

“The little Berber Kedar bought to serve you is with child? Who is the father?"

"Kedar!" Skye laughed. "Has he ever been averse to dipping his spoon into a handy honey pot?"

Osman sighed deeply. "Kedar has never learned to be select in his lusts," he remarked.

"Robbie," Skye reminded Osman.

"Yes, my daughter, yes! Do not be impatient. Hamal and I have spoken, and we have already formulated part of the plan for your escape. Tomorrow the fast of Ramadan begins. For the next thirty days no true believer will eat or drink between dawn and sunset. Immediately after the sun has set, the feasting begins, and by the second hour after midnight all are asleep, filled with food and drink, to sleep until the noon hour of the following day. Business is conducted in those few hours until sunset. Hamal and I think the best time for you to make your escape would be in the early hours just before the dawn. It will be easy to slip some potent sleeping drug into Kedar's cup in order to allow you to slip away."

"And Niall, Osman? What of my husband?"

"Hamal and I believe he should not escape at the same time as you do. The coincidence would be far too great, and my family is far too involved now with Princess Turkhan to become the objects of her vengeance. You will be safe at sea upon your ship, where Kedar will not even consider seeking you."

"Get Niall out first, Osman," Skye said. "I wouldn't be able to rest easy if I had to leave him behind. He didn't look well to me in Fez, and the few times I managed to catch a glimpse of him on the caravan trail he looked ill. Frankly," and here Skye's brow furrowed with concern, "I am fearful for him, Osman. His ordeal, it seems, has been far worse than any I have suffered here in Algiers or Fez."

"If you wish it, my daughter," Osman promised. "Give me your husband's birthdate now so I may plot his natal chart, as I have yours." Guilelessly Skye did so, unaware that Osman was fearful for her. He had sought her own charts and updated them. He saw within Skye's current stars great pain and personal tragedy; a tragedy that might well scar her emotionally for the rest of her days. Yet in the midst of the darkness was one great light, a dominant Leo, who might save her from herself. Knowing that Lord Burke had been born under the sign of the Scorpion Osman now knew that he was not that man. With a sad shake of his head and a deep sigh, Osman set about to again plot Niall Burke's stars, knowing even as he did so what the end result had to be. The fast of Ramadan began, and was strictly kept throughout the city of Algiers by rich and poor alike. The town was fairly quiet during the day, but once the sun had set the scent of delicious foods could be smelled all over the city, and it was said that the starving grew fat on the smells alone.

In the depths of Algiers a tailor sewed upon a costume that his color-blind and tired old eyes could only half make out. Still, his stitches and seams were neat with years of practice, and when he had finished he was paid a generous although not munificent sum. Too many dinars would have caused questions to be asked. The costume, that of a Janissary captain, was smuggled into the Dey’s palace and hidden carefully by Hamal. Niall's escape was set for the ninth night of Ramadan.

Returning from the Dey’s magnificent and rich feast, Turkhan demanded the immediate attendance of both of her favorites. Although they had traveled with her to Algiers and the Dey knew of their presence in his palace, Turkhan had wisely chosen not to flaunt her harem boys before her father's representative. Now they appeared nude before her, as she preferred, but before she might direct their play into sexual channels Hamal was pressing a cooling goblet of lemonade upon her and Niall was stretching her out upon the floor pillows to massage her lush body with strong hands.

Turkhan drank deeply, and then purred, "I shall fall asleep, Ashur."

"If you do," he murmured low, with hot breath against her ear, "I will not let you sleep long, my Princess. Only long enough to gain the strength you'll need for a long night of my loving. Send Hamal away, my beautiful one."

Turkhan shivered with anticipatory delight. She pretended to consider Niall's request while she drained the cup. Then she said, "My little lamb, seek your bed now."

Hamal knelt down, tenderly kissed Turkhan's mouth, rose up, and left them. Niall returned to his ministrations of Turkhan's voluptuous form, and was soon rewarded by her even breathing. Still he kept on, and then she began to snore lightly. "My Princess," he whispered, and then his voice grew normal. "My Princess? Are you awake?" Turkhan slept on, and satisfied that his massage and the opiate in the lemonade had done their work, Niall rose and left the room.

He encountered no one along the short route to his own quarters. Hamal was awaiting him with the Janissary captain's costume. Niall dressed quickly, and as he slipped the clothing on he felt sure and strong for the first time in months. As Hamal adjusted the sash about his waist and fixed the hat upon his head, Niall nervously popped jellies into his mouth. It was going to work! He knew it was going to work. His spirits soared! In a few minutes he would be outside the Dey’s palace in the city of Algiers, and Robbie would be awaiting him.

"Now remember, Ashur," Hamal cautioned, "if you are stopped you must reply in Turkish. You could not have reached a captain's rank unless you spoke Turkish.

"Go back to Turkhan's chambers, and leaving through her bedchamber, cut across the Dey’s garden to the western wall. You will find a door hidden beneath the vines halfway down the wall. It is open, and the hinges have been oiled so it should swing silently. Keep to the shadows. You should have very little trouble, for the garden is not brightly lit, but be cautious. Someone could be wandering. The old Dey, it is said, does not sleep well; or perhaps one of his women. One of your own people will be waiting for you on the other side of the wall."

"Hamal!" Niall grasped the younger man's hands in his. "How can I thank you?"

"Ashur, my friend, if I did not think that you were wrong for my Turkhan, I should not do this. She is in love with you, and your defection will cause her pain. I will, of course, be here to ease that pain. I understand your feelings for your beautiful wife, and I have ever been a fool for happy endings. We will both be happy-you with your lady, I with mine. Go now while all sleep!" He pressed a small flat gilt box in Niall's hand. "A small token. Those damned jellies that you like so well made just as old Rabi prepares them for you."

Niall grinned almost boyishly. "Farewell, my young friend Hamal, and thank you." Then he was quickly gone from the room.

Hamal heaved a soft sigh of relief. In just a few short minutes Ashur would be gone from their lives, and Turkhan would be his alone! She would be angry and heartbroken by turns. She would demand that the Dey find her favorite, but within the hour Niall would be safely at sea. Turkhan would have no choice but to turn to him for her solace. Faithful Hamal. A small smile played about his lips. Faithful Hamal, who would soon be a free man again, a man who could legally claim half of his brother's wealth, as well as all of his princess wife's. He chuckled. Kedar would be quite surprised to discover his adversary was as ruthless as he himself was. And why not? Had he not learned at his brother's knee before Kedar had so cruelly sold him into slavery? Hamal slipped silently back into his own small chamber next to Ashur's, and, lying down, fell into a guildess and satisfied sleep.

In the meantime Niall had quietly re-entered Turkhan's chamber. For a moment he stood over her, staring down at this bold woman who had demanded everything from him, expecting no less. Then without a backward glance he walked into the warm, black night of the Dey’s garden. Briefly he stood listening in the shadows, and then hearing no sound other than the night insects, he began his stealthy walk across the garden to the west wall. He moved quickly and silently, pausing every few minutes to listen, to look about him. High above him on the walls of the palace the Dey’s own men paced their watch, but not quite as alertly as usual, being full with food and fermented fruit juices. Only a direct attack by the infidel would have roused them now.

Ahead of him was a small fountain that he was forced to circumvent. He paused for a moment, confused as to his direction, and for a brief second panic set in. But breathing deeply to calm his fears, Niall pressed onward, finally gaining the western wall. Carefully he felt his way along it, the thorny vines catching at his clothing. He smothered a curse as his hands grew badly scratched and pricked, but at last he felt the smooth surface of the little door beneath his bleeding palms. Sliding his hands downward, he found the latch. Slowly, cautiously he pressed down on the handle, and the door swung silently open. For a surprised moment he stared out into the street, then almost leapt through onto the cobbles, banging his forehead in the process. This elicited another curse. Then, remembering his danger, Niall Burke pulled the little garden door closed behind him, and hurried off down the street.

At the bottom of the street a shadow joined him from a doorway, and he almost wept to hear a soft Devon voice say, "Let's go, m'lord! Wouldn't do to have the Turks catch us now, would it?"

"Robbie? Is it you?" His heart was hammering joyously, and even the damned English tongue sounded good to his ears after so many months of first French, and then Arabic and Turkish.

"Aye, m'lord, 'tis me, and glad it is I am to see you. We've not far to go, but 'twould be best if we were silent now lest we cause suspicion by our speech. Follow me!"

The ease of his escape after so many months of torturous captivity amazed Niall. Robbie was dressed like a corsair Reis, and the few people they passed thought nothing of the two men, one a Reis, the other a Janissary captain walking together toward the harbor. They reached it fairly quickly, for the Dey’s palace was quite nearby. Niall followed Robbie through the maze of docks until they arrived at a vessel he recognized as Skye's flagship. With suddenly shaking legs he somehow managed to mount the gangway, expecting at any minute to hear a commanding voice from behind shout at him to stop. There was no voice, and he gained the deck to again follow Robbie into the main cabin.

"Sit down, m'lord." Robbie moved quickly to the sideboard and poured Niall a generous dollop of smoky Irish whiskey. He didn't like the look of the man's color at all. Handing it to the seated man, he said, "Drink it, m'lord. I've got to go topside and get us underway."

"Where is Skye, Robbie?"

“The plan was that we get you out first. Lady Burke will be coming along in a few more nights."

"No! I'll not leave without her, Robbie!" Niall had risen in protest.

"M'lord," Robbie said patiently, although his blood was beginning to boil angrily, "I have not the time to explain it to you, for we are yet in danger. But I promise I will come back once we have cleared the harbor. If you are considering acting foolishly, remember all the lives involved in getting you out, especially Lady Burke's." He then turned on his heel and slammed out of the cabin.

Defeated, Niall sat heavily and pondered the amber liquid in his glass. He didn't understand, and he was frightened for Skye. Was she even alive? He had caught glimpses of her as they had traveled from Fez to Algiers, although it hadn't been easy. She had been forced to ride in a heavily guarded, silk-draped wagon. At least he and Hamal had been given horses to ride, although they were expected to pace their mounts on either side of Turkhan's palanquin. He had not even managed a small sight of her in the last week before they reached Algiers, and then he had been housed in the Dey’s palace while she had gone with Kedar to Osman's home. Surely if she were dead, or injured, or ill, they would have told him, wouldn't they? Reaching into his robes, he drew out the gilt box Hamal had given him. He opened it and devoured three jellies. For some reason they always seemed to help him when he grew edgy.

He frowned irritably. He was a man. He had never been given to fears and qualms before he had come to Algiers. Granted, his had been a rather harrowing experience, but surely the shock would wear off now that he was safe among his own people again. When he could hold Skye in his arms once again it would be all right. He needed his wife. He needed Skye! Absently he reached for another jelly, and then he rose and refilled his goblet, savoring the whiskey as outside on the deck he heard the noise and the activity of the sailors beginning to get the ship underway. He heard the gentle creak of the vessel as it eased away from its dock and began to make its way out of the harbor. Looking out of the great window at the stern of the cabin, he saw the dark outline of the city, of the palace itself where Turkhan lay soundly asleep, unsuspecting that he had at last escaped her web. Dawn would not break for several hours yet, and by then they would be safely at sea. He didn't know how long he sat silently watching as the city grew more and more distant, but suddenly he felt the full swell of the sea as the ship passed out of the sheltered harbor.

The door to the cabin opened and Robert Small entered the room again. 'There now, m'lord. We're safely away."

"Skye? Why isn't she aboard?" Niall demanded anxiously.

Robbie poured himself a whiskey and seated himself next to Lord Burke. "It was thought if you both escaped at the same time a link between you might be established which would in time lead back to Osman and his family. '"Twould be a poor way to repay Osman, for 'twas he who told us you were yet alive, and arranged for Lady Burke to get to Fez to verify your existence."

"When will she come, Robbie? When?" Niall stuffed another jelly into his mouth, which, despite the whiskey, seemed dry and scratchy.

"A few days at the most, m'lord. We'll just sit quietly off the coast waiting for her. Bran Kelly and his crew will be there to take her out."

Niall nodded. "He's a good man, Bran. Did he ever marry Skye's little Daisy?"

"Last year, m'lord, and within nine months of the wedding she gave him a red-faced and squalling son. They're waiting in Devon for you both."

"No England," Niall said. "I want to see Ireland again! I want to go home."

“The children, most of them, are at Wren Court with Cecily."

"My bairns?" Niall was surprised. "Why?"

"Mistress Skye felt them safer with Cecily in Devon."

"Safer than with my father at Burke Castle?" Again Niall was surprised by Skye's seemingly strange actions.

Robbie hesitated a moment, and then he began to speak. He was going to have to tell Lord Burke everything, for the man was full of questions, having been out of touch almost three years.

When his friend had finished, Niall nodded. Now he understood. Skye had done well despite the odds, but then she had always been competent in a man's world. The fact that she had survived without him he found unreasonably irritating, even though he knew that she had done it before. She was an unusual woman, but he loved her.

“Then we wait," he said to Robbie, and the little man heaved a great sigh of relief. Niall laughed. "What, Robbie? Did you think I was going to order an immediate attack upon the city of Algiers in order to rescue my wife?" He was beginning to feel better, almost elated with the sure knowledge that he would soon see her.

"You've been known in the past to act rashly, m'lord," was the honest reply.

“True, Robbie. 'Tis a fault Skye's often accused me of, but I think my time in captivity has taught me patience." He grinned mischievously. "Although I will not guarantee it, for once I am back in my own land I may very easily revert to my old ways."

Robbie chuckled. "I'll not question yer behavior in Ireland, m'lord, only here while we have yet to regain Mistress Skye. Ye'll find the cabin comfortable, and if you need anything you've but to ask. As you've said, we wait."

In the early afternoon Skye met Alima in the baths, who whispered once they were out of earshot of the bath attendants, "Your husband escaped this morning, and is safely at sea, dearest lady."

“Thank God!" Skye breathed, and Alima squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"Osman says that the princess is hysterical and furious by turns. The Dey is embarrassed that a prized slave could walk with ease from his well-guarded palace, and no one claims to have seen him go. He has not been seen in the town, and it is a great mystery. The city guards have, of course, been doubled. It will be difficult for the next few days for you to leave. My husband advises patience."

Skye laughed ruefully. "From the moment I was introduced to Kedar I have been patient, but the next days will be the worst, Alima. Still, knowing that my Niall is safe lifts the burden from my heart!"

Again Alima squeezed Skye's hand and smiled warmly at her. "Let us walk in the gardens after we have bathed," she suggested, "and perhaps you will tell me again of life in your Queen's fabulous court."

"Of course!" Skye agreed generously. She knew how very much Alima enjoyed hearing of Elizabeth Tudor's court, and French-born as she was, of the beautiful clothing worn by the men and women alike. Skye had many times explained in detail the quantity of beautiful gowns in her own possession, and as the two women wandered hand in hand in the garden she wondered if her clothes would now be all out of style. It was a thought she shared with Alima, who clapped her hands excitedly and exclaimed, "Oh, I hope so, lady Skye! Then you can have all new gowns made! How wonderful!"

Skye laughed, and it was the merry sound of her laughter that attracted the notice of the blond woman who had been pacing restlessly in Osman's library. The woman peered through the latticework that covered the windows down into the garden. She stared hard, and her breath quickened with excitement. "Who are those women in your garden, lord Osman?" she demanded sharply.

Osman arose from the rather disquieting chart he had been silently reading, and peered down. "It is my wife, and my nephew's favorite, Muna, who is her dearest friend. Why do you ask, lady Nilak?"

“The dark-haired one reminds me of someone I once knew." She turned from the window with reluctance, and then asked, "Well, lord Osman? You are reputed to be the most famous astrologer in all of Algiers, in fact one of the best in the known world. What does my chart tell you?"

"It tells me you have done much evil, lady Nilak. It tells me that you are not one bit repentant for your wicked ways. You are as much the director of your own fate as are the stars."

She laughed harshly. "I am not interested in the past, lord Osman. Tell me of the present! Will the lord Jamil marry me? Tell me of the future! Will the Sultan make him the new Dey? Will we rule Algiers together? These are the things that interest me, nothing more! Jamil has recommended you highly. Tell me what you see?"

"I see death in your chart," he said flatly.

Horrified, the woman stepped back, her hand going to her throat. "You lie!” she hissed at him. "You are nothing but a fraud! A faker! You know nothing! Nothing!"

"I see your death," Osman repeated, "and before dying you will cause the death of at least two people."

With a small shriek of anger and horror Nilak turned and fled the room. Osman did not bother to follow her. He was far too excited by what he had learned. Quickly he drew both Skye and Kedar's charts from their places on the shelves. Reaching up, he drew down yet another rolled parchment, this one belonging to Jamil, once the capitan commander of the Casbah fortress, now retired with the rank of full commander, or agha. Spreading the three charts upon the large library table next to the one he had just done for the lady Nilak, he studied them carefully with growing interest. There was no mistake. The four people represented were fated to meet, and their conjunction would end in death for three of them. Osman closed his eyes briefly. Most of the time he enjoyed his gift of sight, but there were times, times like this, when he saw things that gave him pain. Then he did not enjoy his special ability. Perhaps, just perhaps, he might be able to prevent a tragedy, for every soul was offered two paths by which to travel. Wearily he sat down and tried to think what he might do.

While Osman pondered on what he had seen, Nilak hurried downstairs and climbed back into her silk-draped palanquin. Sharply she ordered her slaves to quickly return her to her house. The girl in the garden had been Skye O'Malley's twin, and Jamil had been enamored of Skye when she was in Algiers. If she, Nilak, could bring the girl to Jamil's attention, and if she could buy the wench from Osman's nephew, would not Jamil be grateful to her? Would he not see that she loved him, and was looking out for his interests? She did not care if Jamil fucked the girl a dozen times a day, as long as she, Claire O’Flaherty, now known as the lady Nilak, was Jamil Agha's wife.

She smiled contentedly. She was going to make Jamil so very happy, and then too, she would be happy as wife to the Sultan's new Dey. Surely Jamil would gain the appointment to govern Algiers once the old man who now ruled for Sultan Selim II retired, which, according to rumor, would be any day now.

Claire had gone to Istanbul with Jamil, and while the physicians had worked to successfully cure his disability, she had made friends with the Sultan's favorite, Nur-Banu, a Venetian noblewoman by birth. When Claire had told her that she, too, was a Western noblewoman by birth, the two had struck up a small friendship which Claire carefully cultivated. It had been Nur-Banu who had compared Claire's blue eyes to the lilacs that grew in the Sultan's gardens. Thus Claire became Nilak, the Persian for bluish lilac flower. Even Jamil had been pleased and delighted that the Sultan's favorite had so honored the woman he considered making his wife.

Claire smiled again thinking how her luck had changed since the day that Niall Burke had driven her out of London, naked and stripped of all her wealth. For a moment her face darkened as she remembered the taunts of the onlookers, the jeers of the good-wives, the garbage that had been thrown at her, fouling her hair, clogging her nostrils. Sometimes she could clearly feel the sharp sting of his dog whip upon her shoulders and back, and when she did, she hated Lord Niall Burke with such a fierce hatred that she would not be able to sleep at night with the remembering.

When London had been left behind, Niall had slashed furiously at her helpless body with a final few strokes, and then had tossed her a long shapeless sack. "It's better than you deserve, bitch!" he had snarled at her. "Don't ever let me see your damnable face again, madam. The next time I will kill you!"

Claire laughed with the memory. The next time they had met she had come close to killing him! Killing, however, was not what she had had in mind. A quick death would have been too easy, and she had wanted Niall Burke to suffer, for having spoiled her successful venture as Claro, the most corrupt and famous madam in all of Bess Tudor's London. God's cock, how she hated Niall Burke.

The Devil, however, had smiled on his own. Claire had grimly begun walking. She slept that first night in a hedge by the side of the road, where she had been found the following morning by an elderly merchant traveling down from London. He, good soul, knew nothing of Claro and the scandal she had caused in the Tudor court.

Adney Darton was a godly and gentle man who had neither chick nor child, and he accepted Claire's story of being an orphaned noblewoman fallen upon hard times. Generously he took her home with him. Claire kept his house and attempted to cook his meals, seeking to insinuate herself into his life. He was therefore devastated when she announced that she would have to leave his home. What would people think of an unmarried maiden of poor, but good background, living in the house of an unmarried man. She could stay no longer, she said.

Adney Darton was old enough to be Claire's grandfather, but he proposed marriage, as she had expected he would.

Claire demurred.

Adney Darton fell to his knees and begged Claire to accept his suit.

"Yes," she whispered finally, inwardly unable to believe her good luck. The old man couldn't be long for this world, and within a short time she would be a rich widow!

The banns were quickly posted, and within the month Claire became Mistress Darton. It was then that she learned her husband had one living relative. Isham Darton arrived too late to prevent the wedding, but in time for the funeral of Adney Darton, who had perished in the act of consummating his marriage. Isham Darton was furious, for his cousin had thoughtfully rewritten his will prior to his marriage, and the marriage was quite legal. Claire Darton was now a wealthy woman, and Isham Darton had lost his inheritance.

Isham Darton, considerably younger than Adney, had coveted the elder's wealth. It was clear that he lusted after Claire, and Claire succumbed to his blandishments. Isham Darton was a vigorous lover, almost as venal and lustful as Claire, who set about to lure the man into marriage.

Isham Darton suggested that Claire come with him to Algiers, where he was going to set up a trading company. Boldly Claire told him she would only go as his wife, and to her delight he agreed without hesitation. Isham Darton had already decided that Claire would be easy to dispose of in Algiers, and as her husband he would inherit her fortune. Isham and Claire planned their marriage for the day after her year's mourning was over.

In the meantime Claire proposed that she travel to her former home in Ireland to visit a final time the graves of her dear, departed father and brother. He need not accompany her. Claire had sailed to Ireland upon one of her late husband's two ships to work her evil; paying its captain a rather large sum to take the wounded Niall Burke aboard, and sell him into the galleys.

Returning to England, she was married to Isham Darton, and together they set sail for Algiers. As they crossed the Bay of Biscay, Isham Darton was swept overboard in a severe storm. The widow kept to her destination. Claire settled herself in Algiers. As a single, seemingly respectable, and very wealthy European widow living in a Turkish city, she had quickly come to the attention of Capitan Jamil of the Casbah fortress.

Claire knew that she must remain a proper matron, or she would not be able to associate with the right people. She also intended to add to her wealth by continuing trading. If the damnable Skye O'Malley could do it, then so could she! She soon had a thriving business going, and there wasn't a man in Algiers who drove a harder or tighter bargain than Claire Darton. She remained very circumspect in her behavior, and that in itself was most taunting and provocative to the men of Algiers. They very much wanted to meet with the beautiful blond woman with the lilac-blue eyes. How, though, was the big question.

Capitan Jamil succeeded where all others had failed. Soon he would retire, and the rich wife he had picked for himself those long years ago, the magnificent Skye Muna el Khalid, had eluded him. He had arranged her husband's murder, but somehow she had discovered he was responsible, and fled him, transferring all of Khalid's riches out of Algiers. Then, through her maidservant Skye had sent him a plate of sweetmeats containing a potent drug which had rendered him unable to function as a man. For five long years he had been totally impotent, and then his manhood had begun to revive, but only slightly. Another four years had passed, and then he had heard of a physician in Istanbul who could cure him.

He had not the gold he would need to pay the physician, but he knew that the rich infidel widow did. Jamil waited a few weeks until the days grew shorter with the approach of the winter season and the evenings came early. He arranged for the lady Claire's palanquin to be set upon as it passed through a particularly dark, deserted area. Then he and a small troupe of mounted Janissaries arrived to beat off the attackers. When the tumult had died down, he presented his compliments to the lady and personally escorted her to her house, begging permission to call again. Claire had said that she would think on it, but by the time his gift, a carved lavender jade bracelet wrapped in a handkerchief of cloth of gold, arrived the next afternoon Claire had ascertained who her rescuer had been, and whether he could be of use to her. He could, and consequently Capitan Jamil was invited to take coffee with her.

The relationship had quickly blossomed. Jamil was genuinely intrigued by Claire's blond beauty as well as her vast wealth; and Claire for the first time since her brother, Dom, had died, loved another human being. Strangely, he had been able to consummate their relationship the first time he attempted to do so, but he had been quite honest with regard to his situation. Eventually he had told her of the doctor in Istanbul who could cure him. Her revenge against the Burkes had been successful, and she was in love. She begged her lover to let her foot the expenses to the capital for them both so he might be cured. Jamil refused. Claire persisted. He refused again, but now she would not be denied, and finally he gracefully gave in to her pleas.

It was while they were in Istanbul that she learned of his previous involvement with Skye O'Malley. Jamil did not know then that Skye Muna el Khalid was Skye O'Malley; but Claire knew. How strange, she thought, that she was so passionately in love with the very man whom her bitterest enemy had scorned, and almost destroyed by turning him into a partial eunuch. She would settle with Skye O'Malley once she and Jamil were married. She would destroy Skye's own shipping interests by using the corsair Reises who would be under her husband's command once the Sultan appointed Jamil the new Dey. For now, however, she was delighted that the famous physician who treated Jamil had been successful. Her lover had regained his full potency, and was a veritable bull in their bedchamber.

Before they departed Istanbul for their return to Algiers, he proposed marriage, as she had known he would. She blushingly accepted, despite the fact that he warned her he would want, nay, he would keep a harem. Claire, now the lady Nilak, cared nothing for the others he might bed as long as he loved her, and she was his wife with the power a Dey's wife had. Jamil smiled at her honest admission thinking that they were really quite suited, and agreed that their marriage would take place in the month of Shawwal following the fast month of Ramadan.

Ramadan was now half over, and Claire was feeling quite pleased with herself at having discovered a Skye look-alike. How happy Jamil would be, and she, Claire, would insist on paying Osman's nephew whatever he wanted for the slave girl. It would be one of her bridal gifts to her beloved Jamil.

Arriving at her home, she hurried to find Jamil. He was being vigorously massaged by two young black girls, but as she entered the room he sat up smiling at her, his arms outstretched. Claire flew into them, and was rewarded with a kiss; a kiss that flamed into quick desire for both of them. "Get out!" Claire hissed at the two slaves, and they fled. Jamil didn't even wait for the door to close behind them before he was pulling her clothing off and drawing her down onto the couch with him. Being already hard, he wasted no time on the preliminaries and, parting her thighs, thrust into her with one smooth motion.

"Ahhh, Nilak, my love," he murmured, moving quickly on her, and Claire sighed with delight.

Afterward, as they lay together, he nibbling on her shoulder, she said excitedly, "I have just come from the house of Osman the astrologer, my darling, and what do you think I saw? A slave girl walking in the garden, the favorite of his nephew. She is a twin to Skye O'Malley! The same gardenia skin, the same marvelous black hair, and although I was not close enough to tell, I will wager the same blue eyes! I want to buy her from Osman's nephew for you."

"No," he said. "You must be mistaken. There could not be two women in the entire world who look like Skye Muna el Khalid."

"But she does, I tell you!" Claire insisted. "I know her as well as you do, Jamil. After all, she was married to my brother. This slave girl could be her twin!"

Jamil Agha sat up. "You are certain?" he said sharply.

"I am certain."

"Perhaps it is she, the beauteous Skye herself," he half whispered to himself. "Dear Allah, to have her in my power!"

"It cannot be Skye, Jamil. She grieves in Ireland for her dead husband, and besides, Osman knew her, too. How could Skye become the favorite of his nephew without him knowing it? This wench looks very like her, but she's much younger."

"Let us go to Osman's house now!" Jamil said eagerly. "It is almost sunset, and he is a hospitable man. I am sure I can get a look at the girl if the family is at the evening meal, and if she is all you say she is, then we will buy her then and there." He scrambled to his feet. "Help me to dress, Nilak, and then see that the slaves ready my horse."

As she aided her lover Claire began to grow uneasy. Perhaps she had made a mistake in mentioning the favorite of Osman's nephew, and her startling resemblance to Skye O'Malley. Jamil was far too eager, and what if this little upstart of a slave were to supplant her in her beloved's affections? Never! she reassured herself. Let Jamil sate his lusts on the girl. She, Nilak, would be his legal wife in just a short while, and then if the girl grew difficult she would simply disappear. Besides, Jamil would soon grow tired of her as he did of all women but Claire. She smiled to herself, and went to order Jamil's horse and her palanquin.

It was a simple but filling meal that was served in the house of Osman that night. A whole red-eyed mullet had been poached and was presented upon a bed of greens surrounded by lemons carved to represent seashells. A well-roasted capon stuffed with dried peaches, apricots, and plums sat on its platter of blue Fezware surrounded by matching bowls of saffroned rice and steamed artichokes. One enormous bowl of couscous had been placed midtable, and the marvelous scent of the wheat grains, the lamb chunks, and the many vegetables assaulted the senses of the four diners. An individual loaf of flat bread, warm from the ovens, was placed at each setting as were small kebobs of kid, green and red peppers, and small onions hot from the grill. There was a small bowl of yogurt at each place for dipping, and a large glass dish filled with green and black olives.

When the diners had done justice to the meal, and their profuse compliments had been sent to the cook who waited anxiously in the kitchen, the table was cleared of the main meal, and the fruits, large Seville oranges, dark purple grapes, golden pears, and fat green figs, were brought out, along with delicate gazelle horn pastries and bowls of pistachio nuts. A slave was handing around the delicate porcelain cups of black coffee when Jamil Agha boldly entered the room.

Osman almost swallowed whole the grape he had just popped into his mouth, and Alima gasped audibly. Jamil did not notice. His eyes were glued upon Skye, who was wondering what bad fairy had pushed Jamil back into her life on the very night she had planned her escape from Algiers. Skye knew that her only hope was in being Muna, the slave girl of the lord Kedar, and no one else. Then her eyes moved to the woman who mincingly accompanied Jamil, and she felt her anger well. Claire O’Flaherty! The cursed Claire!

Crossing the room in large, quick strides, Jamil reached Skye and pulled her roughly up. "By the soul of the prophet," he murmured excitedly, "you are truly a twin to Skye Muna el Khalid! I must have you, and I will" His hateful hand was cupping her chin.

Angrily Skye yanked her head away from his grasp as Kedar, recovering from his shock, leapt to his feet with a roar of pure outrage and his hand went to his dagger. "You are a dead man!" he hissed. "No one touches what is mine without my permission! You have offended me, whoever you are, and I will have satisfaction!"

Jamil, with another burning look at Skye, reluctantly turned to Osman. "Is this loud fool your nephew, Osman?"

Osman nodded, feeling strangely calm. "My nephew, Kedar ibn Omar, my lord Jamil Agha."

"For your sake I will forgive him. Tell the fool who I am."

"Kedar, this is Jamil Agha, retired commandant of the Sultan's Casbah fortress and, it is rumored, soon to be the new Dey of Algiers."

"His rank does not give him the right to touch my property without my express permission, and where Muna is concerned you know my feelings, Uncle." Kedar turned to Jamil. "My lord," he said, "this woman is my betrothed wife. You have rendered me a fierce insult by your actions. If, however, you will offer me an apology, for the sake of my uncle, who obviously knows you well, I will consider the matter closed. I would be reluctant to come between my uncle and a friend."

"I want to buy the woman," Jamil answered.

"What?!" Kedar was astounded. *

"I want to buy your slave woman," Jamil repeated. "Look at her, Osman! Is she not the twin to Khalid el Bey's wife, Skye? I must have her!"

"She has dark hair and blue eyes like the lady Skye, I will grant you, Jamil Agha, but other than that I see no great resemblance."

"You must! She is a mirror image of the lady Skye. Nilak, come forward, my love! You know my betrothed wife, the lady Nilak, Osman. She knew the lady Skye in her own land. Is this woman not exactly like her, Nilak, my pet?"

"Exactly, my lord," Claire answered slowly, aware that the Kedar's slave girl was fixing her with a murderous gaze. "In fact if I did not know that Skye O'Malley was in Ireland or England at this time I would swear it was she."

"I fail to see a true resemblance," Osman said stubbornly.

" I want her!" Jamil said urgently. "Name your price, nephew of Osman! Whatever you desire I will pay, for I must have her!"

"She is not for sale," Kedar repeated icily. "She is to become my wife shortly." He stared angrily at Jamil Agha.

"Name your price, Kedar ibn Omar. Everything in this world has a price."

"She is not for sale, Jamil Agha. Can you not understand me? I am to marry this woman when the fast month is over. She is the one I have chosen to bear my heirs. She is not for sale!" Kedar's mouth was set in a grim line, and his eyes were snapping angrily. Some instinct told him that this Jamil Agha was a great danger to him, and all his senses were poised and alert.

"I must have her," Jamil repeated almost hypnotically, and seemingly to himself. " I must!” He looked directly at Kedar. "If you will not sell her to me then I must take her. I am a Janissary, and by the Sultan's own law what I desire is mine. I would not cheat you, Kedar ibn Omar, so I ask you a final time to name your price. If you do not then I shall simply confiscate this slave for myself."

Kedar felt anger, an incredible raging, burning anger, overcome him in a quick sweep. The blood pounded in his ears and in his head. Then, suddenly, he saw floating in a red mist before his bulging eyes the smug, satisfied face of Jamil Agha. He could almost hear his enemy's unspoken words. You are helpless. The woman is now mine. There is nothing you can do to prevent me taking her! In his mind's eye Kedar saw the flawless nudity of Muna writhing beneath the other man, gaining pleasure from him, giving pleasure to him. His control snapped, and with an animal bellow of undiluted rage he swiftly brought his hand up, threw himself at Jamil, and drove his dagger deep into the other man's throat.

Jamil died in an instant, his eyes wide with surprise as he crumpled to the floor, his dark red blood pumping out to stain both his robes and Kedar's. Osman stared both shocked and surprised, while Alima and Skye clung to each other, horrified, all three watching as Nilak added to the tragedy by stabbing Kedar in a screaming fury at almost the same moment as Jamil hit the floor. She drove her own dagger into Kedar's chest, following him down onto the floor to rage and cry as her bloodied weapon descended again and again and yet again until finally Osman pulled her off the already dead body of his nephew and disarmed her.

"Have the servants call the guard," Osman commanded his shaking wife, and Alima fled the death chamber.

Nilak was silent now, but slowly she raised her eyes and fixed them upon Skye. "It is you, isn't it?" she said despairingly.

Skye turned away, uncertain as to whether to answer her old enemy.

"Skye O'Malley!" Claire hissed the name. "It is you! I know it! At least tell me I am not mad."

Skye whirled about. "You have always been touched with madness, Claire, and you destroy everything you come in contact with. You were responsible for the destruction of your brother, and poor Constanza Burke, my husband's former wife, and now both Jamil Agha and Kedar."

"You don't mention your beloved husband, Niall Burke," Claire taunted nastily. "Perhaps you don't know that I was responsible-"

"I know what you were responsible for, Claire! I know that you drove poor Sister Mary Penitent to attempt murder. I know that you saw that my husband was sold into the galleys, but he is free now, Claire! He is safely on board one of my ships, and I join him tonight! In that, Claire, you have failed!"

"I hate you!” Claire snarled venomously. "I have always hated you!"

At that moment the doors to the dining room opened to admit a Janissary Capitan and several of his men. Osman quickly stepped forward, and Skye with incredible instinct moved back into the shadows, slipping behind a tapestry.

"My lord Osman, what has happened here?"

"Praise Allah, Capitan Amhet! There has been a terrible tragedy here. My nephew and Jamil Agha fought over this woman, and when Kedar killed Jamil, she killed Kedar."

"That is not so!" screamed Claire. "He lies! He lies! There was another woman that my beloved lord Jamil wished to purchase, and this Kedar took offense; and drew his dagger and murdered Jamil Agha!"

Osman shook his head. "As you can see," he said quietly, "there are but four places at my table. My nephew, myself, this woman, and Jamil Agha ate here tonight. The lady Nilak was betrothed to Jamil Agha, and yet she flirted outrageously with my nephew, who is, as you well know, a connoisseur of beautiful women. He was intrigued and beguiled by her charms, by her immodest and unveiled face and blond fairness. She is the cause of all of this!" Osman's voice began to rise hysterically. "She is a wicked infidel woman who has caused the deaths of my old friend and my beloved nephew! I demand the Dey’s justice! I demand it now!" Then he broke into harsh sobs that he tried hard to contain, obviously embarrassed to show such a weakness before other men.

The Janissaries looked away in order that Osman might have a moment to collect himself, then Capitan Amhet said, "We will take the woman before the Dey now, my lord Osman. Will you come with us to tell him your tale?"

"He lies!" Claire screamed once more, but she was silenced by a brutal blow to her head from the capitan.

"Silence, infidel bitch! How dare you dispute the word of the famous lord Osman. His honesty is legend." The Capitan pushed her back into the arms of two of his men. "Hold her and keep her silent," he commanded.

"It is late," said Osman, seemingly beginning to recover from his bout with grief. 'The Dey is old, and I would hesitate to awaken him at so late an hour. Take the infidel woman with you, and keep her the night. After first prayers at dawn I will appear before the Dey to demand justice."

Capitan Ahmet let his dark eyes slide over Claire's full bosom. "My men could use a treat before they must return to the fast in the morning," he said meaningfully. "I will take your suggestion, my lord Osman. I will see you at the palace directly after first light." Capitan Ahmet then signaled his men with a wave of his hand, and they half-dragged, half-carried Claire from the chamber.

"Rest well, Capitan," Osman said softly, and the capitan turned in the doorway and laughed. Osman waited until he heard the main door to his home close and the tramp of the patrol move off down the silent street before he said quietly, "You may come out now, Skye, my daughter."

"They may kill her with their attentions," Skye said as she came back into the light of the room. 'Then again they may not. Claire was once a famous whore in London."

"Better she die under the Janissaries' attentions this night, my daughter, for if she lives, she will not survive the hooks."

Skye shivered. She knew all about the infamous hooks that were imbedded in the city walls, which served as places of execution for those unfortunate enough to be condemned to them. Claire, having actually murdered one man, and having been accused of being responsible for the murder of another, would most certainly be sentenced to the hooks. Her death would be a most painful one, for the city executioners knew just how to toss a body onto the hooks so that the condemned victim lived in screaming agony for some time-a warning to those tempted to mayhem, an amusement to others. "God have mercy on her," Skye whispered.

"You pray for such an enemy, my daughter?"

"It is a horrible way to die, Osman, even for Claire."

He placed a fatherly arm about her. "You must rest now, my daughter. I will send a message to your ship that you will be delayed until morning."

"No, I would go now," she said.

"In the morning, my daughter," he repeated gently. 'Trust me, Skye. Have I ever disappointed you?"

"No," she responded, suddenly feeling totally exhausted as the shock of what had happened began to set in.

Osman led her from the room and put her into the capable hands of his wife. Together the two women moved automatically toward the women's quarters, where the slaves, not even daring to speak, helped the lady Alima to put Skye to bed.

"I shall not sleep," Skye insisted, although her eyes were heavy.

"Drink this," Alima insisted, pushing a small cup of sweetened pomegranate juice on her friend. 'There is in it a tiny drop of opium, which will take you quickly to the land of pleasant dreams, dearest friend. Think happy thoughts as you drift away, my lady Skye. You are free of Kedar! Your beloved husband awaits you, and soon you will be reunited. Soon you will be home in your own land with your children." Her pleasant voice droned into Skye's consciousness, and Skye soon found herself asleep.

When she awoke she felt just the tiniest bit groggy, but a trip with Alima to the household baths quickly made her mind sharp and quick again. "Where is Osman?" she asked as they returned to Skye's chamber.

"He has gone to the Dey's palace to testify against the lady Nilak," Alima responded.

"If she lived through the night," Skye remarked.

"She must have, else my husband would be back already. He will be here to escort you safely to your ship, my lady Skye. Do not fear."

Osman returned close to the noon hour, a grim smile of satisfaction upon his face. The two women hurried to his library, both full of curiosity. "She has been executed upon the hooks," he told them, "although she will probably live on for several hours. Her goods and wealth have been divided between the Dey’s treasury and Capitan Ahmet. It is over, Skye, my daughter. A door is closed, and another is opening for you once again. Are you ready to depart?"

"I am ready," Skye said quietly.

Her good-byes to Alima were said swiftly and privately within the library, and then, escorted by Osman, Skye entered the large palanquin with him. This time she felt no sadness in departing the house that had once belonged to Khalid, for it was now so clearly Osman's house. The bearers lifted the palanquin and began to move easily down the hill with their burden. Skye quickly noticed that they were taking the most direct route to the harbor, where her own flagship waited. As they exited the harbor gate nearest to the Dey’s palace Osman commanded her, "Look back and up a moment, my daughter."

Skye turned, and the sight greeting her eyes caused her to gasp with horror and pity. She swallowed hard, forcing the bile back down her throat. Above her on the wall, Claire O’Flaherty, also known in her lifetime as Claro and Nilak, writhed weakly and helplessly, one of the vicious hooks securely jabbed through her midsection, another through a shoulder.

"Never again will her evil trouble you, Skye, my daughter. She has met her just end, and you are at last free of her wickedness," Osman's voice said quietly. "She will die shortly, and her body will rot there upon the hooks, scavenged by the carrion birds and whipped by the elements until it is no more. A fitting finish for a consummate villainess. Turn away now, Skye, my daughter. It is over."

"It is a picture I will remember always, Osman," Skye said feelingly, and she was unable to stop the tears that spilled down her pale cheeks.

"You will forget," he answered her with certainty. "I did not show you such a sight to distress you, but rather to assure you of your adversary's end. She will never harm you or yours again, Skye, and I wanted you to be certain of that fact." He reached out and touched one crystalline tear with a fingertip. "What a magnificent soul is housed in that beautiful body of yours, my daughter! It touches me beyond all that you can weep for so cruel an enemy. She would not have wept for you."

"Perhaps not, Osman, but her last hours have certainly made up for the evil she created. It saddens me even now that we were so assuredly fated to be enemies."

He shrugged fatalistically. "It was Allah's will, Skye, my daughter. One should never question God."

The palanquin suddenly stopped, and was set down carefully. Osman parted the draperies and stepped out, turning to assist Skye from the vehicle. They were directly before the gangway of her ship. Without a word she walked swiftly aboard, the astrologer following behind. Within the safety of the master cabin she pulled her veil aside. Eyes shining with unshed tears, she caught his hands and raised them up to kiss them fervently.

"Thank you, my dear friend," she said in a voice filled with emotion. 'Thank you for everything. Just over the horizon my dearest husband awaits me, and I should not have gotten him back had it not been for you, Osman, and your family. We are ever in your debt! My children and I will remember you in our prayers each night as long as we live, for you have returned to us the thing most precious to us, a husband and a father."

Osman hugged her paternally, half in affection, half in concern. It was better that she not see his face at this moment. "Remember, Skye, my daughter, that all that happens is Allah's will, and with regard to each of us, our chosen destiny. Will you try not to rail against your fate, whatever it may be? Will you trust in the Creator to care for you no matter what? Though sometimes the storm seems dark, and without end, the light will eventually overcome it. That much I can promise you."

She drew away and smiled up at him. It was the first relaxed and genuine smile he had seen on her face in a very long time. "I am learning, Osman. Slowly, I will grant you, but I am learning. I will try to accept, and to trust, no matter what. For now, however, I see nothing but happiness ahead for me. Niall and I will return to Ireland, and I think I shall never roam again."

Osman smiled back at her. "Be happy, Skye, my daughter. Allah only knows that no one deserves it more than you do."

“Will we meet again, Osman?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Perhaps," he answered, and then raising his hand in a gesture of farewell, Osman the astrologer turned and without another word left the ship.

Finally the gangway was pulled aboard, and the O'Malley sailors loosened the lines that bound them to the dock, tossing them back to the quai. As the ship began to move Skye closed the cabin door and slowly began to remove her clothing. Thoughtfully she gazed at each piece of the silken gauze garments, smoothing them carefully as the memories crowded in on her. Then with a sigh and a shake of her head she folded the clothes resolutely and began to draw on her own things, the split-legged skirt, the silk shirt, her hose, her boots, her belt with its Celtic buckle of bright enamel. For a long moment she felt very odd in such garments, for she had grown used to her silken draperies. With a laugh she began to brush her hair, then braided it firmly into one single plait. A quick glimpse in the cabin's pier glass told her that Skye O'Malley had returned, and with a grin she whirled away from it, opened the door, and walked out upon the deck.

"Welcome back, m'lady," Bran Kelly said.

"Thank you, Bran. How is Daisy?"

"Well, and our first bairn, a lad, also."

"Bran! Congratulations! I see I shall have to train another girl to be my tiring woman now, but I don't mind as long as you and Daisy are happy."

"I doubt Daisy will let you, m'lady, but time enough to argue with her when we get home," Bran chuckled.

"How soon until we reach Lord Burke's ship, Bran?"

"A few hours if this breeze will hold, m'lady. No more, I promise."

Skye walked to the bow of the ship and stood there quietly, her face into the wind, never once looking back at the city. Yes, Algiers had seemed a different place this time, quite unlike the city she remembered adoring so in her days as Khalid el Bey's wife. Then it had seemed a magical, colorful, wonderful place filled with love. This time she had seen its harshness and its cruelty. The memory of Claire O’Flaherty twisting in agony would live with her for a long, long time. Skye breathed deeply of the soft and warm sea air to clear her head of the memories. Looking back was not the answer. She wanted to look forward now. Just over the horizon was her husband, and she could hardly wait to reach him. Indeed, had she believed that she could swim faster than her ship could sail, she would have gone over the side and into the sea.

Niall! Niall! She cried to him with her heart.

"Skye! Skye!" Niall Burke twisted frantically upon the bed of the master cabin. "Robbie? Robbie, are you there?"

"I'm here, lad." Robbie placed a calming hand on Niall Burke's feverish forehead, and his face puckered with worry.

"Where is Skye, Robbie? Where is my wife?" Niall begged plaintively.

"She's coming, laddie," Robbie soothed the ill man. "She's on her way this very minute."

"I'm thirsty, Robbie. So thirsty." Niall moved restlessly once more.

"Here, laddie." Robert Small held a goblet of wine to Lord Burke's lips. "Drink this."

Niall gulped at the goblet eagerly, but seconds later he was vomiting the liquid back into a basin. "Where are my jellies, Robbie? The comfits help when I feel poorly."

“They're gone, m'lord. You ate the last of them several days ago. If you only knew what was in them we might make you some."

"I don't know, Robbie. I've told you I don't know! Old Rabi made them for me, and Hamal gave me a box just before I escaped; but I have no idea what was in them." Niall's voice was reproachful and irritable at the same time. Then suddenly he slipped into a light slumber.

Robbie sighed. It was clear to him that Lord Burke had been poisoned with some potion. Why else would he be in such a state? Perhaps when Skye came aboard her presence would encourage her husband to make a swift and full recovery. Robert Small got up and moved to the cabin door. "Keep an eye on his lordship," he commanded the ship's boy. "If you need me I'll be topside waiting for Lady Burke."

"Aye, sir!" came the obedient reply.

Robbie stamped out on deck, glad to be free of the stifling cabin. With relief he drew in great lungfuls of clean sea air. "Any sign of her?" he asked MacGuire as he came abreast of the old captain.

"Crow's nest spotted a sail out of Algiers harbor making for us just a minute or two ago. It's just visible now on the horizon. How's his lordship?"

"Not good. I think he's dying, Sean, and I don't know what in hell is killing him!"

"Fash, man! Niall Burke's stronger than that. I've known him since he was a brash young boy. He can't be dying!"

"He is, I'm telling you," Robbie argued worriedly. "He's constantly thirsty, yet he can't hold anything either liquid or solid on his stomach, and for two days his bowels have suffered with the bloody flux. What sleep he can manage is disturbed by nightmares of horrendous proportions, his eyes are red, his skin and mouth so dry that both his lips and his elbows are peeling. I've never seen anything like it, man!"

"Maybe we should cup him," MacGuire suggested halfheartedly.

"Cup him? Jesu, man! You'll kill him for sure! God's bones, I hope this wind holds! Maybe the sight of her will revive him."

"If he dies it'll kill her," MacGuire said ominously. "To lose him once was bad, but to lose him a second time after what she's been through…" He crossed himself nervously.

Robert Small stared grimly out to sea. The very same thought had crossed his mind, but he had anticipated a possible bad end to this whole venture, and had come prepared for it. He wasn't going to let her die, and neither was Adam de Marisco. De Marisco had been frantic when Robbie had returned to England and told him what Skye had done. The island lord had come off his lonely rock ready to mount an expedition to rescue Skye. Now, Adam de Marisco was waiting patiently in Robbie's own cabin to give her aid and comfort should she need it.

Robert Small watched with a sense of foreboding as Bran Kelly's ship drew closer and closer to his own.

"Captain Small! Lord Burke is awake and calling for you." The cabin boy looked anxiously up at him, tugging him back into the present.

“Tell Lord Burke that his wife's ship is almost upon us, and that I will stay on deck to greet her. We will both be with him as soon as she is aboard."

"Aye, sir." The boy hurried back to the master cabin.

Bran Kelly maneuvered his vessel carefully in the rolling sea until the two ships were bobbing next to one another. A plank was put between them, and Skye swiftly crossed the small space, flinging herself into Robbie's arms. With a relieved groan he hugged her, enjoying the lovely fragrance of damask rose that always surrounded her. "God, Skye lass, thank heaven we have you back safely!"

She was taller than he, but she still managed to press her face into his leather jerkin, inhaling his tobacco scent. "Robbie," she murmured almost incoherently. "Dearest Robbie!"

For a long moment they stood locked in a close and mutually loving embrace, and then Skye pulled away. "Where is Niall, Robbie? Where is my husband?"

He looked up at her. "Niall is in the master cabin, Skye lass, but he's not been well for several days now."

"Not been well?" she repeated.

"I don't know what it is, lass. He's had the bloody flux, and he vomits. I'm not a doctor," he finished helplessly.

She whirled from him, and ran directly across the deck to the owner's cabin. She burst through the door, stopping short as she saw Niall Burke struggle to rise up from the bed to meet her only to fail and fall weakly back upon the coverlet. "Niall!” She was at his side in an instant, her eyes huge in her white face, taking in his appearance and knowing that it was not good. "Niall!" she repeated. He had gotten so gaunt! She had not seen him in a month, and he had gotten so thin, and so wasted. Kneeling, she took his hand in hers.

Niall Burke opened his silvery eyes, and his glance was sad, but filled with love. With trembling hand he reached up to touch her cheek, and then he sighed. "I had forgotten how soft your skin is, Skye, my love," he said low.

"Oh, Niall," she whispered, "my dearest, dearest love. It will be all right now, I promise you. We are on our way home again. In just a few weeks' time we shall see Ireland again, and the children are waiting." Skye had no idea that she was crying, the hot tears pouring down her face unchecked. "God's bones, Niall! The children won't know either of us. You went away just after Padraic's birth, and Deirdre was still a babe then. He'll be three and a half now, and she's almost five, my darling. High time we got back to our bairns, Niall! High time we gave them more brothers and sisters!"

"I'm dying," he said.

"Nooooooo!” She sobbed the word, but even as she did so she felt her heart constrict painfully, as if a hand were squeezing it hard.

"I don't want to," he whispered plaintively, "but I am. I don't know why, but I am."

She couldn't breathe. For a moment panic threatened to envelope her, but then her chest heaved and air filled her lungs. "You are very ill, Niall, my love," she said in a firm voice. A voice that belied her pounding heart; "but it doesn't mean you are going to die. I won't let you die! The ship is well provisioned with fresh foods and water, and I shall cook for you myself. Remember you told me how ill you were those years ago when Constanza took care of you? It's just a recurrence of your old illness. You'll see," she finished brightly. "I shall make you well again."

He sighed sadly. "Skye, I am dying. When Constanza cared for me I was suffering from the effects of a nasty wound, and shock. I don't know what this is, but I cannot last much longer." He fell back on the bed again, barely conscious with the effort of trying to make her understand.

"Don't die, Niall," she pleaded piteously with him as if he had personal control over the situation. "You can't die! Not after what I have been through to help free you! Ton can't die.¹"

His silvery gaze enveloped her again. "I know what you have been through, my love, I know. You are so brave, Skye, my darling. You have the heart of a lion, my love, and the soul of an angel. I shall miss you, but I am grateful that Darragh's blade did not kill me. I rejoice that Claire's plot did not prevent us from saying our good-byes. Now I know that there is a God in Heaven, Skye, for he has heard my most fervent prayers. He had granted me a final glimpse of you, my dearest heart."

She focused on him through the grayish blur of her tears, and saw that he spoke a greater truth than she was willing to recognize. "Don't leave me, Niall," she said quietly. "I cannot bear it if you leave me now. Not now!"

The choice is not mine to make, Skye. Now kiss me, my darling wife. One kiss before I must leave you. A final memory for me to take with me on my journey." His glance was steadfast, almost sympathetic of her plight, for he knew it would be far harder on her than it would be on him.

Skye wanted to flee this nightmare. In her brain pounded the one thought! Had it all been for this?

"Skye!" His voice was urgent. His hand pulled loose of hers.

Slowly she bent her head, her eyes closing as her lips met with his. For a brief moment she felt incredible joy at the touch of his mouth on hers, but then the pressure of his kiss slackened and, lifting her head, Skye saw that his silver eyes were suddenly dull and sightless; Niall Burke was dead. She sat frozen by his side for some time, feeling nothing; neither heat nor cold, certainly not the beat of her heart. She was numb to her very soul. Finally Skye slowly rose and, reaching up, gently drew his eyelids shut. "Farewell, my first love, my final love. You're home safe in Ireland now, Niall Burke. You're safe at long, long last!"

She turned as the door to the cabin opened, and Robert Small entered the room. "He's dead, Robbie," she said in a calm, detached voice.

"Skye…" He moved toward her to comfort her.

"Set a course for Beaumont de Jaspre, Robbie. I will not give my husband's body up to the sea. I will ask permission of Nicolas to bury Niall in the cathedral at Villerose. In a few years when the flesh has rotted from his bones we will bring his remains home to Ireland. He would want it that way. As would the old Mac-William."

"Skye, 'tis madness you speak. Let us bury him now."

"If you give him to the sea, Robbie, then I will follow him into the sea. Do you understand me?" Her voice was flinty hard, its tone unlike anything he had ever heard from her before.

Robert Small knew instinctively that he must not argue with her, or anger her. She was poised on the very brink of madness, and the merest, faintest touch would send her hurtling into its dark depths. "All right, lass," he said quietly. "We'll do it your way. Do you want the body removed from the cabin now, or shall we leave it?"

The cargo hold is empty but for ballast?"

"Aye."

Then put him there, Robbie, but not in the dark. Let there be candles about him, and a velvet cloth on his bier. I want a watch about him the entire time, and I shall pray by his side until we reach port."

"Let me have the boy bring you something to eat before you begin your vigil," Robbie suggested gently.

"Some wine," she answered. "Nothing more. I could not eat now."

"Some wine," he repeated, and backed from the cabin.

She stood where he had left her, silent and stonelike. The door opened again, and she heard a small voice say, "M'lady, the wine you asked for is here." Looking down, Skye encountered the curious glance of a flame-haired boy about nine. The wine, m'lady." He held out a small tray upon which rested a goblet.

"What is your name, boy?"

"Michael, m'lady."

"Michael what?"

"Don't know, m'lady. Captain Small found me in an alley with me head all bloodied. I don't remember nothing except I'm called Michael."

"I have a brother named Michael, Michael. He is a priest. Would you like to be a priest?"

"No, m'lady! I wants to be like Captain Small!"

Skye looked down at the boy and, touching his hair with a gentle gesture, said, "Perhaps you will be like him one day, Michael. He's a good man to follow."

"Yes, m'lady," the boy said, and then hurried from the room.

The doorway was instantly filled by Adam de Marisco's huge bulk. "Skye." He stood looking anxiously in at her.

"Come in, Adam," she said.

"You're not surprised to see me, little girl," he stated flatly.

"Have you not always been there when I needed you, Adam?"

He stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind him. "I should never have let you go from me, Skye."

"The choice was neither yours nor mine, Adam. We are both Elizabeth Tudor's loyal servants. Besides, once my friend, Osman, knew where Niall was, he would have found me wherever I was. Have I not given you enough pain, Adam, that you seek me out to suffer further?"

"I only suffer because you suffer, Skye." His arms went about her, and he held her tightly against his chest. Then without a word Adam picked her up, carried her across the cabin, and sat down with her in the stern window seat. He cradled her tenderly as he would have cradled a child, and sighing, she pressed her face for a moment against his silk-covered chest. The smell of him was familiar and reassuring. "Can you not cry, little girl?" he asked her.

She shook her head in the negative. "I seem to have no tears left in me, Adam. I have wept so often for Niall Burke that now in the hour of his death there is nothing inside of me but a vast and cold emptiness."

He understood. Of all the people she knew in the world he understood the best. "I am here, Skye," he said quietly. "I will not leave you."

"I know, Adam," was her answer, and then they settled into silent sorrow.

It didn't surprise him that she fell asleep in his protective embrace. He watched her slip from the painful reality of consciousness into a deep slumber, not moving as several seamen led by Robbie entered the cabin and quietly removed Lord Burke's body. Then the boy, Michael, returned to change the sheets and coverlet upon the bed, and when he had departed Adam de Marisco placed Skye into it, carefully removing her boots, her hose, her belt, and her double-legged skirt. Having tucked her snugly beneath the down coverlet, he slipped from the cabin knowing that she would sleep for many hours, for Robbie had put a sleeping draught into her wine. Sleep, Adam knew, was the best healer of all.

Skye slept for almost two days, her vigil forgotten, and by the time she awoke they were arriving in Beaumont de Jaspre. Her long rest had wiped the dark smudges from beneath her beautiful sea-blue eyes, but she was as calm and emotionless as when she had fallen asleep. She sat propped up by several large pillows, giving orders from her bed. On the small table by her was a plate with the remains of an egg that had been poached in marsala to tempt her appetite. Skye had eaten it, but it had had no taste. She ate to survive, nothing more.

"Will you go to Edmond de Beaumont, Robbie, and request a place in the cathedral for Niall's body? Tell him I will meet all expenses involved, and of course there will be a generous donation to the bishop for his kindness. Then go to the coffinmaker. I want the finest."

"What of the young duc, Skye lass?"

"What about him?" She looked puzzled.

"He loved you," Robbie said helplessly.

"He has, I am sure, by this time found a bride. Besides, I am not interested in taking another husband, Robbie, and I am most certainly not interested in Nicolas St. Adrian. He was a most charming and loving man, but that moment is past. One should always know when a moment is past, when it is time to walk quietly away."

"What if they want to see you?"

"Then they are most certainly welcome to visit me on board this ship, but please make it most clear, Robbie, that I will not set foot in the castle."

Robbie bowed formally. "As you wish, Lady Burke," he said shortly, and backed from the room.

"What will you do once Niall is buried, Skye?" Adam de Marisco asked.

"I don't know, Adam. Sail home, but then where is my home? Is it at Burke Castle? I think not. I have never liked Burke Castle, but I lived there because it was Niall's home. Innisfana is the home of the O'Malleys, but it really belongs to my stepmother Anne and her sons. Ballyhennessey is Ewan's holding, and Lynmouth is Robin's. Only Greenwood, my London house, is truly mine, and for now I am not of a mind to live in London. I don't know where I belong, Adam." She smiled a small, rueful smile. "Skye O'Malley, the wealthy and all-powerful," she gently mocked herself, "is without a place to lay her head."

"Come with me," he said to her.

"Where?"

"I am of a mind to visit my mother," he said slowly, a smile lighting his big features.

"And where does your mother live?" she demanded, a small smile surfacing on her own lips.

"In the valley of the Loire. I told you that my mother remarried when I was twelve. My stepfather is the Comte de Cher, and the owner of Archambault, a château located on the River Cher a small ways from Blois. Archambault cannot rival Chambord, or Amboise, or Blois, or even Chenonceaux; but it is a charming and warm place. I would like you to see it, Skye. I would like you to meet my family."

"How strange," she remarked seriously. "I have never thought of you having a family, Adam."

"Yet I do. Though I left France twenty years ago to return permanently to Lundy, I have occasionally made visits to see my mother and her family; but this time I have not been back in seven years. Did you know that I have two full sisters, a half-sister, and two half-brothers, Skye? They are all grown and married, but I have family, sweet Skye. I have a family almost as large as your own. Come with me to them!"

"Why not," she answered flatly. "There is nothing else for me to do now."

"You will have to go home eventually, Skye. You have your children, but for now I think it best you come with me and purge your grief for Niall Burke."

"Adam, my children do not need me. With the exception of the last two they are virtually grown, and the little ones have done without me for two years. If I never came back it would not matter to them. I have no husband, and I am not needed by anyone. The O'Malleys have obviously managed quite well in my absence, so what is to keep me from joining you at Archambault?" she said dully.

He had never heard her sound like this, so spiritless, so lacking in enthusiasm for everything, life in particular. He would have rather she had screamed and raged at the heavens for Niall's death. He would have far preferred she sobbed and wept at her loss. This cool detachment was a little frightening. Adam prayed it would pass with time.

She was wrong, he thought. Her children did need her, and more important from his point of view, he, Adam de Marisco needed her. Once he had lost her; once he had deliberately let her go. Now he had no intention of ever letting her go again. She didn't know it yet, but he was never going to let Elizabeth Tudor use Skye again. He would never again let her be helpless in the face of the Queen's demands. Skye would not return across the channel until she was his wife. Once she had accused him of not loving her enough to fight for her. This time he would fight any and all who tried to take her away from him. Skye was his for now, and for all time!