Bedazzled

^{Chapter 6}

“Would you like to come on deck as we enter the harbor?" Aruj Agha asked India on the morning they arrived in El Sinut. "Do you have a long, enveloping cape, my beauty?"

"I have two. The black wool with the fur lining I wore aboard in England, and a turquoise blue silk with a cream brocade lining," India told him. "That one has a hood."

"And is more suitable to our climate," Aruj Agha said. "But I will need something to veil your features from public view as well."

India rifled through her trunks, finally pulling forth a large, lace-edged handkerchief which she held up. "Will this do? And why does my face have to be hidden? Are you afraid someone will recognize me, and you will be forced to let me go?"

"No," he said with a smile. She was a persistent wench, he thought. "In our society respectable women cover both their hair and their faces from public scrutiny. Such delicate discretion allows a woman a greater measure of freedom without being accosted by bold men in the streets. Women who allow themselves to be seen are obviously women of low repute attempting to sell their favors." He helped her on with her long cape. "If you wish to appear in public in El Sinut, or anywhere else in the sultan's domain, you must be cloaked and veiled." He drew her hood up over her head. "We must affix the veil. Do you have any small pins?"

"In my jewel case," India said. "Will my jewelry be taken from me, Aruj Agha? It was all given to me by members of my family."

"I will intercede with the dey for you," he said, "but it is his decision, my beauty. You must understand that." He carefully pinned the white cloth across India's beautiful face, concealing everything but her golden eyes and dark brows. Standing back, he appeared satisfied. "Now we are ready," he told her with a broad smile. "I do believe that I could have a career as a lady's tiring woman, my beauty."

India giggled in spite of herself, and allowed him to lead her out onto the deck. The air was hot and dry. Ahead of them the great galley, its striped sails blowing gently in the slight breeze, rowed into an enclosed harbor, drawing its prey behind it. The harbor entrance was flanked by two square-towered lighthouses.

"They mark the ingress," Aruj Agha told her, "and are also responsible for the great chain that for now rests beneath the surface of the waters, but in emergencies can be raised to block entry to the port."

"They have a similar device across the Golden Horn in Istanbul," Tom Southwood remarked, looking about the anchorage carefully. There were at least three more big galleys, as well as galleots, brigantines, frigates, and small fellucas which could accommodate only three to five benches with one oarsman each, as opposed to the galley that had taken them in tow, and had twenty-eight benches with two oars for each bench, and four to five men on each oar. This was a busy and formidable anchorage. It would not, he now realized, be as simple as he had thought to take back the Royal Charles and escape, but as an honorable man, he had no choice but to eventually try.

India wasn't in the least interested in the harbor, its vessels, or its operations. It was this place, El Sinut, that fascinated her. It was a city like none she had ever before seen. The buildings were all white, and the hot midmorning sun glaring off them was almost blinding. They were not all of one height and most seemed to be terraced, each succeeding story set just slightly back of the one below. In what appeared to be the center of the city was a large building, the dome of which was overlaid in gold leaf, and glittered brightly.

"Is that your dey's palace?" India asked Aruj Agha.

"No," he told her, "that is the grande mosque of El Sinut."

"What is a mosque?" she inquired.

"It is what we call our holy place, like your churches," he explained to her. "Do you see the four towers surrounding the dome? They are called minarets. Six times each day the imans, our priests, ascend the minarets, and call the people to prayer."

"You pray six times each day?" India said, incredulous.

"We are devout people," he replied.

"What is going to happen now, Aruj Agha?" India questioned him as their ship was made fast to a dock.

"Why, we will go up to the dey's palace. It is there." He pointed.

Following the direction of his finger, India saw a large cluster of buildings on a low hill just below the grande mosque. They were as faceless and anonymous as all the other buildings in the city.

"A litter will be brought for you," he said, answering what was obviously to be her next question.

"And the others?" she wondered aloud. "My cousin? Viscount Twyford? Will they go, too?"

"They will walk behind us, my beauty," he responded. "I must now see to the arrangement," he told her. "I will leave you in the company of your cousin." Aruj Agha moved away from them, all business now.

"I am afraid," India suddenly said, looking up at Tom Southwood.

"You must show no fear," he warned her. "Especially among the women of the harem. You have to understand that these women are all vying for the attention of a single man, and hate each other. They will do whatever they have to do to destroy a potential rival."

"I think I should rather be at an oar," she told him with a small chuckle, as she attempted to calm herself.

"There is one thing I must insist you do, India," he said. "Under no circumstances say you were eloping with Viscount Twyford. If there is the slightest suspicion that you are no virgin, you could end up being sold in the common slave market, and find yourself in a brothel. You will be safest in the dey's household."

"But what if he gives me to someone else?" India fretted.

"You are still securest in the harem of a wealthy man than in a whorehouse, Cousin, and I will be able to find you more easily."

"But poor Adrian," India said piteously. "He will think I have betrayed him, and it will break his heart! I cannot do it, Tom!"

"Adrian will certainly understand that your safety is our main concern," Thomas Southwood told her. "It should be his concern, too, if he truly loves you. Please, India, promise me you will follow my instructions. Eventually I will get us all out of this situation, but you have to trust me, and do as I tell you."

At that moment, Aruj Agha joined them once again. "Bid your cousin farewell, Captain. You realize you will not be able to speak with her again. Quickly! We are ready to depart for the dey's palace."

Tom Southwood hugged India, whispering urgently into her ear as he did so, "Promise me!"

"I'll try," she whispered back, hugging him.

"Come," the janisarry captain said, taking India by the arm and leading her from the deck, down the gangway, and onto the first solid ground she had touched in weeks. She swayed just slightly as she regained her land legs, as the agha called them, helping her into a curtained litter. "Do not remove your veil, my beauty, or attempt to open the curtains once they are drawn," he said sternly.

"It is difficult to breathe," she complained nervously. Where was he taking her? What was going to happen to the others? And Adrian? She had not seen him in several days. Was he all right?

"Lie back against the pillows," he advised her in a kinder tone, seeing her obvious distress, although she made a valiant attempt not to show that she was frightened. "You will find a small embroidered pouch tucked along one side of the litter. In it is a vial of water to assuage your thirst should you need it You will find you can see through the curtains, although no one will be able to get close enough to you to invade your privacy. The town is pretty, and you will enjoy the ride to the dey's palace. It is not a great distance, my beauty." He gave her a small smile, then he drew the litter's curtains closed.

And he had not lied to her, India quickly discovered. She could see out!

Aruj Agha was dressed very handsomely this morning, she mused. He wore red silk pantaloons, a green-and-gold-striped shirt with a matching sash about his waist, and a handsome green silk cape lined in red. There was a curved sword hanging from his sash. His boots were of red leather, and upon his head was a small turban with a pearl pendant A rather handsome chestnut gelding was brought forth, and he mounted it easily, observing and directing the unloading of the Royal Charles from his perch.

The cargo was packed into mule-drawn carts and put into line behind the agha. India's litter was then moved behind the cargo. Suddenly she saw the English crew coming down the gangway of the corsair galley. They were shackled by their legs, and around the neck of each man was an iron collar from which a chain was fastened to the man before him in the line of prisoners. Only Captain Thomas Southwood was permitted to walk free, ahead of his men, having given his word of honor not to attempt an escape along their route. India's eyes anxiously scanned the shackled men, desperately seeking out Adrian Leigh. She gasped, horrified, to see him first in the line, next to Knox, pale, and treated no better than the common sailors. How could they!

Before she might voice her protest to Aruj Agha, her litter was lifted up by four of the janissaries who had come off the galley. The procession moved off the docks, and onto the narrow, winding streets of the city. Realizing that there was nothing she could do to help Adrian, India took the agha's advice and lay back amid the brightly colored silk pillows in the litter. She could see that the white walls of the buildings were devoid of windows on the street level. Some of the structures had lattice-covered windows on the upper levels, but most did not. Looking into the courtyard entrances she saw tubs and ceramic jars of flowers in a riotous profusion of shapes, sizes, and colors. Sometimes she saw a bubbling fountain. The streets were amazingly clean, and the populace appeared very orderly, going about their daily business without much ado. India quickly realized that the veiled figures were females, but there were actually very few of them. They passed through a large, open market square. There were stalls set up selling all kinds of produce and flowers; meat, poultry, and fish; household goods; fabrics; leather goods; song birds in wooden cages, and live animals. Then she shuddered seeing a block upon which slaves were even now being auctioned off. The people in the market jeered at the captive seamen, but made no other hostile move toward them.

The street they entered on the other side of the market square was slightly steeper, and gently terraced with wide stairs. The houses along it were larger, obviously belonging to a more affluent class of citizen. The street itself began to widen as they moved up it. India could see the dome of the grande mosque, and realized if the dey's palace were just below it, they must be getting closer. The procession entered another square; this one empty of people. There were no buildings on either side of the square; it was walled, and above it was nothing more than cloudless blue sky. The square was paved in blocks of cream and red marble. Ahead of them stood the dey's white marble palace.

They passed beneath a deep, wide entry arch into an open courtyard. Armed guards lined the entry and the courtyard. Their procession moved through another wide archway flanked with heavy wooden doors entering into another courtyard, this one planted, with a tiled fountain in its center. India's litter was set carefully down, and a moment later Aruj Agha opened the curtains and offered her his hand, helping her out. He looked at her a moment, and then nodded as if satisfied.

"You will follow me, my beauty. Do not speak unless the dey gives you his permission to do so. If he questions you, you may answer him. Now, let us go. The time of the dey's audience is almost over."

India looked quickly about her, but her cousin and the other English captives had been already taken away… but to where? She couldn't be afraid. She must not be. She genuinely believed her life depended upon her being strong, and so she followed quickly after the janisarry captain. He led her down a wide corridor, and finally into a large, pillared room with an opaque dome through which sunlight filtered softly. The room was crowded, and hot, but she shivered nonetheless. Seated cross-legged on a pillowed dais at the far end of the room from the entry was a man garbed all in white but for a cloth-of-gold sash about his waist. His broad pantaloons were white with wide embroidered bands of gold and pearls, and, most extraordinary, his feet were bare. He wore an open-necked white silk shirt, and she could see a heavy gold chain with a pendant upon his smooth bronze chest. A white satin cape lined in cloth-of-gold was fastened about his neck with a thin gold chain. On his head was a small, low turban, from whose front and center wrapping sprouted an aigrette feather set in a perfectly round diamond.

"Aruj Agha, my lord," the large black slave who was the doorkeeper boomed in stentorian tones.

"Stay here," the janissary commanded her. "When I call you, you may come forward, my beauty." The he hurried up to the foot of the dais, and, falling to his knees, kissed the dey's foot.

"Arise, Aruj Agha. You have returned sooner than I expected. You have had good hunting then, I assume?"

"Indeed, my lord Caynan Reis, I have." The agha scrambled to his feet once again, bowing as he did so.

"What have you brought us?" the dey asked. His face was an oval, and a short, well-barbered black beard fringed his jaw, making a circle about his mouth.

"A fine English round ship, my lord. It is not even a year old, and was meant for the East Indies run, but its captain was breaking it in gently by sailing it between London and Istanbul for the last few months. Its cargo, I regret, is not particularly valuable. Just Portuguese hides, English wool, and tinware, oranges and lemons from Cadiz, and a number of barrels of sherry from Malaga, which we dumped into the sea, remembering the prophet's admonition on wine. Its crew, however, is made up of well-disciplined seamen, quite a cut above the usual scurvy creatures we generally take off these ships. Many, including the captain, have already said they are willing to convert to Islam, and sail beneath the flags of the sultan's government, and El Sinut. And, the vessel carried two passengers. A young English milord, who will undoubtedly fetch a respectable ransom, and the captain's cousin, a young noblewoman, said to be an heiress of great wealth. She was being escorted to visit her grandmother in Naples. I am assured she is a virgin, my lord Caynan Reis. She is, I believe, quite a prize."

"Beautiful?" the dey asked. His long fingers toyed with his beard.

"Of course, my lord," the agha replied.

The dey laughed. "First things first," he said. "Bring me the captain of this ship that I may assure myself of his honesty."

Thomas Southwood was escorted in by two janissaries. He first bowed, and then, making obeisance as he had been instructed, touched his forehead to the dey's bare foot. Remaining upon his knees, he straightened his body, and waited.

"Tell me your name, and who your family are," the dey instructed.

"Captain Thomas Southwood, master of the Royal Charles out of London, my lord. I am the fourth son of the earl of Lynmouth. The vessel I sailed belonged to the O'Malley-Small Trading Company, in which I have a small share. I am now at your service, my lord."

"You are willing to convert to Islam, and sail for me?"

"Aye, my lord."

"You are quick with your answers, Captain, and I am suspicious of such a cooperative attitude. Is it possible you are considering escape? That you believe you will be given your freedom if you convert and then may flee? I am not such a fool as you may think. You may speak."

"My lord dey, you would know me for a liar if I said I had no thought of escape. Surely every captive dreams of escape. However, once many, many years ago, my grandmother was a captive of Islam. She eventually returned home, and told her children and grandchildren that to suffer for dogma is both foolish, and wasteful of the talents we have been given. That the Christians, the Jews, and the Muslims all worship the same God, no matter the name they call him by. I willingly accept Islam, and I offer to you my services as both a ship's captain and a navigator. It would be a shame if my talents were wasted at an oar, or in the mines, or the fields. I have no wife to return home to, and so I am content for the time being to remain here in El Sinut serving the sultan, as many before me have done. If you will have me, of course, my lord dey. I realize you have the power of life and death over me, but if you will have me, I am your servant."

"You have a facile tongue," the dey remarked. He looked at Aruj Agha, and, speaking in Arabic rather than French, asked, "What think you, my old friend? Is the English captain trustworthy?"

"For the present I believe so, my lord dey. He has certainly been more than candid with you. You could ransom him, of course, if he is indeed the son of a noble."

"Ransoming these people is more trouble than it is worth," the dey replied. "I am giving you my new galley, the Gazelle, Aruj Agha. Take this Englishman with you as a navigator. That way you can lock him up when you attack other ships. At least until he proves his loyalty to us. In the meantime, you will have his skill, if indeed he has not lied about that."

"I do not believe so, my lord. He is exactly what you see. No more. My gracious thanks for the Gazelle. I shall take her out almost immediately, with your lordship's permission," the agha said. "What will you do with the round ship?"

"I think I shall keep her, and perhaps after your Englishman has proven he can be trusted, he will teach our people how to sail such a vessel. Now, where is this other Englishman of rank?"

The agha signaled, and two janissaries brought Viscount Twyford forward. Adrian Leigh, however, refused to kneel, or even bow, before the dey. Instead, he immediately began a harangue. "I am the heir of the earl of Oxton, sir. I can be ransomed for a handsome sum. Do so immediately that I may be quit of this savage place."

"On your knees, dog!" Aruj Agha roared.

"What? Bow to some infidel?" the viscount returned.

"Get on your knees, you damned fool!" Tom Southwood growled. "They will separate your head from your shoulders without a thought!"

Aruj Agha didn't wait another moment. He grabbed Adrian Leigh by his iron collar, and kicked his legs from beneath him, slamming him to the floor, where his aristocratic nose, making hard contact with the marble floor, began to bleed profusely.

The dey watched impassively. Then he said, "Send him to the galleys. I cannot be bothered with the arrogance of this young milord. Perhaps after he has rowed his way across the sea for a few months, he will be more amenable. Put him on the Gazelle. Take him away."

"What…what is happening?" Adrian Leigh demanded furiously, wiping his nose with his torn sleeve.

"You're going to the galleys for your stupidity," Tom Southwood said dryly.

"I am not being ransomed?" Viscount Twyford's tone was incredulous.

"You speak to the master of El Sinut like he is some stupid servant, and you expect him to ransom you? Jesu preserve you, Viscount. You are an incredible fool," Tom Southwood told him as they were taken from the dey's audience chamber. "And in all the time since we have been captured, you haven't said one damned word about India. Don't you care what happens to her? She has done nothing but fret over your fate, you selfish bastard, but you really don't care, do you?"

"We all know what happens to women in this sort of situation," Adrian Leigh said coldly. "Even if we could all be ransomed, India is surely no longer fit to be my wife. That agha fellow was certainly most solicitous of her, wasn't he? Knox told me he couldn't do enough for the wench. She has undoubtedly saved her own skin by giving herself to him. She's a passionate little bitch, you know."

Tom Southwood's big fist slammed into Adrian Leigh's bruised nose with the speed of lightning, and he actually heard the viscount's nose break. "You miserable bastard!" he roared before their guards pulled him off the viscount, who was once again bleeding from his battered proboscis. "It was nothing more than her fortune, wasn't it?" Tom Southwood said. "But she, poor innocent, wouldn't believe us."

"Of course it was her fortune," Adrian Leigh half moaned. "Why the hell else would a man marry a woman but for her dowry?"

India had watched Adrian and Tom depart the chamber. She had no idea what had happened to them, for she hadn't been able to hear from her place in the rear of the audience chamber, which was now almost empty. Seeing the blood on the viscount's face, she was not just a little frightened. Then she heard Aruj Agha's voice call to her, and he came to lead her up to the foot of the dey's throne. Quickly he removed the long cape she wore, and unveiled her face. India stood silently in her silk shirt and her dark silk skirts. The agha had warned her to keep her eyes lowered. Because she was as yet anxious, and fearful, she was more than willing to follow his instructions. There was not a sound in the hall, it seemed, but her own thundering heart.

The dey arose, and stepped down, moving directly in front of India. Reaching out, he tipped her face up. "Let me see your eyes," he commanded her. His voice was deep and rich, his French exquisite.

She shyly raised her dark lashes, and was startled to see that his own eyes were a deep sapphire blue.

Holding her chin between his thumb and forefinger, the dey gazed directly into her face, and India felt a blush firing her cheeks. "She has eyes like a young lioness," the dey pronounced, speaking to his companions as if she wasn't even there, or worse, didn't understand.

"She is very spirited, my lord dey," Aruj Agha warned.

"Is she?" Thedey sounded amused. Then he said to India, "Does my captain speak the truth? Are you a thorny English rose?"

"Please, my lord, what has happened to my cousin and Viscount Twyford?" India burst out, unable to help herself.

"She is spirited," the dey said, and then he told India, "Your cousin has accepted Islam, and will sail with Aruj Agha. As for that arrogant young milord, I have sent him to the galleys."

The galleys! The words burned into India's brain. It was a death sentence. Adrian would not be able to survive such punishment. She had seen how hard the galley slaves had worked on the agha's ship. And when they had not worked hard enough to suit the overseer, a whip had been applied to their backs to encourage them onward. India shrieked with her fury and her distress. Her eyes went to a dagger in the dey's cloth-of-gold sash. Grabbing at the bejeweled handle, she pulled it out, and stabbed wildly at him with it. "You have killed Adrian! You have killed him!" she screamed.

"Allah preserve us!" the agha cried out, and, leaping forward, disarmed India, throwing her to the floor. "My lord, are you seriously injured? Ahhhhh! I shall never forgive myself for having introduced this wretched girl into your presence. My lord! Speak to me!"

The dey, however, was laughing. "Spirited? I do not think that begins to describe the wench," he said, rubbing his bruised shoulder. "Do not fear, my good Agha. I am only slightly grazed. Her aim was most dreadful, but she has ripped my cloak." Then he signaled to two of his startled servants.

Immediately they pulled India up, and dragged her across the chamber where they fastened her between two marble pillars, her feet just barely touching the floor. The back of her shirt was ripped away, and her long, dark hair pushed aside. She saw his bare feet by her side.

"You cannot be allowed to attack me without being punished," he said softly. "The lash will be plied so that I do not break the skin on your back and seriously harm you. I will wield the whip myself, and you will receive five lashes. I am being merciful because you are new to our ways, although I am certain that attempted murder in England would be met with a far harsher judgment than that I will mete out to you."

"I do not care what you do to me," India said brokenly. "Your cruelty will kill the viscount."

"Why should you care?" he asked her, his voice curious.

"Because I love him!" she half sobbed.

The dey did not answer her. Instead, he moved directly behind her, and India heard the whistle of the whip even before it hit her back. She cried out with the first blow. "Ihate you!" Behind her the dey smiled grimly, and continued her punishment adding the second, third, fourth, and fifth lashes to her back, but India clamped her lips tightly together and did not cry out again.

When he had finished, the agha said, "I shall take her to the marketplace and sell her, my lord dey."

"No," Caynan Reis said. "I am going to keep her, Aruj Agha."

"But she tried to kill you, my lord! The wench is far too dangerous to keep. I would never forgive myself if she succeeded in a second attempt. No! Let me sell her."

The dey chuckled. "No," he replied. "I enjoy a little danger. She is a virgin, is she not? Well, we all know how passionate virgins can be. She attacked me because she says she loves that arrogant little milord, and she believes I have given him a death sentence. I will turn her foolish heart because it will be a challenge to do so. She may one day become the pride of my harem. Now, let me get a better look at this prize you have brought me, Aruj Agha. Strip her!" he told his servants.

The slaves released India from her confinement between the two pillars. She was half carried, half dragged across the floor to the dais where the dey now stood. The remnants of her shirt and her chemise were pulled away, revealing her bare torso. India swallowed hard knowing that to struggle was futile. This dey would have his way. Her skirts and remaining undergarments were drawn off. One of the slaves knelt, and removed her leather slippers. She was half in shock. She had never felt so naked in her entire life.

Caynan Reis stood silent as India's charms were uncovered. His dark-blue eyes moved slowly over her. Her breasts were round and perhaps a bit small, yet they were incredibly lush. With the proper loving, those little fruits would ripen nicely. Her nipples were like unopened flower buds, all tight and hidden. The triangle of dark curls at the junction of her thighs would be removed, of course, but he could see the mound beneath those curls was plump.

The dey stepped down and stood before her. "Look at me!" he commanded her, and when she did, he reached around her and fondled one of her buttocks. Then his hand smoothed its way down her back. "You have skin like the finest Bursa silk," he told her. He then moved in a leisurely fashion about her. She had beautiful limbs, well shaped and not too thin. Her legs were long, her feet small and slender. He put his arm about her suddenly, and drew her back against his body, cupping one of her breasts in his hand. "Tell me the truth," he whispered in her ear, his fingers caressing her bosom. "Are you truly a virgin?"

India nodded vigorously, at first unable to speak. She was both hot and cold, and had to struggle to remain standing, for her legs felt as if they would give way at any minute. His large hand was splayed across her belly and felt fiery against her skin. She wondered if he could feel her trembling. Finally she was able to speak. "Of course I am a virgin," she gasped. "Why would you think otherwise?"

"Because you have told me you are in love with the milord," the dey answered her.

"I love him, but I am certainly no wanton," India murmured. "And if he had had me, would you set us free?" Oh, God! She wished his hands didn't feel so all-possessing. Every time he caressed her, chills raced up and down her spine.

"No, I would not set you free, although it would displease me to learn that another had traveled the path I have solely reserved for my own pleasure." His lips brushed her ear. "I am going to make love to you," he said softly. "I shall kiss you and caress you until you beg me to relieve you of the burden of your virginity."

"Never!" she half whispered vehemently.

"And I shall teach you how to please me." His big hand drew her head to one side, and his mouth branded her throat with kisses. "Tell me your name, my thorny rose."

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe! And then she finally managed to say, "India."

"India." he breathed hotly in her ear.

"I am Lady India Anne Lindley, daughter of the duke of Glenkirk… I have a brother who is a duke… and another brother who is a marquis… I am rich and can pay whatever ransom you desire. Ohhh God! Don't do that! Please let me go, my lord!"

"There isn't enough gold in the world to buy you from me," the dey told her. Then his fingers teased down her torso, and, pushing his hands between her trembling thighs, he cupped her Venus mound within his palm. "You belong to me," he told her.

India collapsed against him. The touch of his hand in that most secret of places was simply too much for her. With a cry she fainted dead away. The dey caught her in his arms, and calmly handed her limp form to a eunuch. Brushing India's hot cheek with the back of his hand, he smiled to himself. Aruj Agha had been wrong. There had been a valuable cargo on the English ship, and as was his right, the dey claimed this cargo for himself.

"Take her to Baba Hassan," he told the eunuch, "and tell him the girl is to be treated like a princess. I will speak with him later."

The eunuch turned, and exited the audience chamber carrying his burden with extreme gentleness.

"If she kills you, I will not be responsible," Aruj Agha said wryly. "I think she will break you, rather than the other way around."

"We will destroy each other in an excess of passion," the dey answered him. "I have been bored of late. I will no longer be bored. She intrigues me, my friend. She was frightened to death, but she would not admit to it, or even show it by any outward sign. I knew, for I could feel her trembling ever so slightly beneath my touch."

"When she declared she was in love with the milord, I feared I had been misled with regard to her virginity, and I was ashamed to have brought you so poor a gift," the agha said, "but when she fainted at your intimate touch, I knew she was indeed a virgin. I wish you much joy with the girl, my lord dey. Now, I will take my leave of you." Aruj Agha bowed low before his lord.

"The English milord," Caynan Reis said. "Do not kill him, my friend. I want him alive to eventually ransom, but first I think he needs a strong lesson in manners."

"You will ransom him despite the difficulty?" The agha was surprised. "Why?"

"The girl believes I have given him a death sentence. In a few months we will show her that he is still alive, and that I am a merciful man. I will have won her love by then, and so we will ransom him. It amuses me to do this. Now, go and Allah be with you, Aruj Agha. Travel safely, and bring me more treasures to enrich our master the sultan."

The janissary captain departed the dey's audience chamber, and Caynan Reis dismissed his servants, sitting quietly upon his dais. Viscount Twyford. How odd it had been to hear the title that had once come out of his half-brother's mouth. Adrian had, under his mother's tutelage, become an arrogant swine, so filled with himself that he had not even recognized Deverall Leigh, but then, it had been ten years since they had last seen each other. Ten years could be a lifetime, the dey considered.

In that time his half-brother had grown from a snot-nosed brat into a haughty and insolent cad. One of the guards who had escorted Captain Southwood and Adrian from his audience chamber had been a sailor on the ship he had taken from England. That vessel, like the Royal Charles, had been captured by corsairs sailing out of El Sinut. The guard, like Deverall Leigh, had accepted Islam, and gained a decent life. Although he rarely heard his native tongue, he had dutifully reported the conversation he overheard between the English captain and Adrian, even as the dey was preparing to punish India for her attack on his person. Captain Southwood's gallant attempt to protect his cousin from scandal undoubtedly came about because the foolish, inexperienced India was attempting to elope with Adrian. He could see his stepmother's greedy hand in it, the dey thought. He doubted the girl's family would have approved any match between his half-brother and India. Not with his stepmother's reputation, and the scandal of Lord Jeffers's murder, for which he had been held responsible.

He simply should have held Adrian in his dungeon until a ransom could have been obtained for his person, although he knew his father was not a rich man. Still, MariElena Leigh would have moved heaven and earth to regain her darling son. The dey smiled grimly. He could imagine her anguish. The little bastard, however, had aggravated him with his arrogance. The order to send him to the galleys was out of his mouth before the dey realized what he was saying. Well, a few months in the galleys wouldn't kill Adrian. It might even make him a better man. After all, the dey of El Sinut had himself been confined in the galleys for almost two years, and he had survived. Surely his half-brother was made of the same stuff.

And when the ransom was finally paid, Caynan Reis decided, he would reveal himself to Adrian. And he would tell him how delicious a prize the beautiful India was, for although his half-brother had now dismissed the girl he had been eloping with, it would certainly madden him to know she was Deverall Leigh's mistress, and would be until he tired of her. Adrian had always been loath to share his toys when he was little. Even when he had tired of them.

His stepmother had taught him one important lesson. Women were expendable, and absolutely not to be trusted. Nonetheless, his revenge would be sweet, and it was little enough for Adrian to suffer. After all, he would go home to England, and one day inherit the title that was rightfully Deverall Leigh's. Whereas Deverall Leigh could never go home because he stood accused of murdering Lord Jeffers. His name was blackened forever, and he knew that his father's heart was broken because of it, for he had been the earl of Oxton's favorite son.

And that was what hurt the dey worst of all. The knowledge that his father had been shamed, and injured because of this. So that a selfish and thoughtless woman's son might supplant him. He wished there was some way he might make his stepmother suffer for all her betrayals, and for the death of an innocent man, but he knew his desire was a futile one. Still, he would think on it. Was it not written that nothing was graven so deeply in stone that it could not be changed?

^{Chapter 7}

India opened her eyes. She was surrounded by pale gold gauze draperies. Gingerly she turned her head. She was lying naked upon a scarlet silk mattress. Beside her was a low table, its top inlaid with blue-and-white mosaic. Atop the table was a crystal goblet half filled with a pale peach-colored liquid. She was so thirsty, but she could hardly move. India moaned softly and instantly a black face appeared in her view. She gasped, trying to cover herself.

"I am Baba Hassan, lady, chief eunuch of the dey's harem. You are thirsty." It was a statement and not a question. The eunuch braced her shoulders in a half-seated position and held the cup to her lips. "Drink it slowly, lady," he advised, apparently impervious to her unclothed state.

The liquid was cool, and fruity, and slid easily down her parched throat. "What is it?" she finally asked him when she had assuaged her thirst. The drink had been sweet, and she could feel the strength coming back into her limbs.

"It is a mixture of fruit juices," he told her, and he lay her back upon the mattress.

"Where am I?" India asked him.

"You are in the harem of the dey, Caynan Reis, may Allah protect and preserve him." Baba Hassan told her. "I have been told you are to be treated gently despite your violent behavior of earlier today." The eunuch's long face wore a disapproving look.

"I did not even wound him," India said defensively.

"You should have not even attempted to do such a thing. It showed an appalling lack of manners," Baba Hassan said sternly. "You are a beautiful maiden, not some wild savage."

"Is our young assassin awake then?" a bell-like voice inquired.

India turned her head, and saw the voice belonged to a very beautiful older woman with silver hair and almond-shaped turquoise-blue eyes. She had a lean body and an elegant carriage, and there was an amused smile upon her unlined face.

"I am Azura, the mistress of the dey's harem," the woman said. "How are you feeling now, my child?"

"Tired," India replied. "Weak. What is the matter with me?"

"A long sea voyage, the distress of being captured by Aruj Agha, fear," Azura said quietly. "And I suspect you are in a little bit of shock having been whipped by the dey. I do not imagine you were ever treated so harshly before, my child, were you?" The older woman's face was genuinely concerned.

"I am a nobleman's daughter, and related to our king. Of course I have never been beaten before," India answered Azura indignantly, and feeling the tears pricking sharply behind her eyelids, she fought to prevent them from overflowing her eyes and displaying her weakness for all to see.

Azura reached out and squeezed India's hand. "Let the tears come, my child. They will be a catharsis for you."

"If I weep you will think me weak," India said stonily. "Iam not weak! I do not cry before strangers."

"I understand," Azura said calmly, "but when you are alone later, cleanse your sorrow with your tears, my child. Now, are you hungry?"

India nodded.

"Baba Hassan will see you are fed, and then we will take you to the baths," Azura told her. She arose. "I will come back later when you have finished your meal, my child. We will talk."

"Who is she?" India asked the eunuch when Azura had gone. "Is she the dey's wife?"

"Caynan Reis has no wife," Baba Hassan replied. "The lady Azura was the favorite of the former dey. On his deathbed he asked Caynan Reis to protect her and let her live out her days here where she has lived most of her life. Of course he agreed. She keeps order among the women, who are apt to be difficult as all women are," the eunuch concluded. He clapped his hands sharply, and a slave girl appeared with a tray. "Here is your meal, lady," Baba Hassan said.

India sat up slowly, and another slave girl appeared to prop pillows behind her back. Upright, the tray in her lap, India inspected the contents curiously. There was a bowl of yellow grain mixed with pieces of green scallions and bits of chicken, half a round of a flat bread, a small bunch of green grapes, and a thin slice of something pale gold in color. "What is it?" she asked the eunuch.

"Saffroned rice with onion and chicken, the bread and grapes you recognize, and a slice of melon, a sweet fruit," he answered her.

India began to eat using a small silver spoon and her fingers. There was neither a fork nor a knife upon the tray. The rice and chicken were nicely cooked and flavored, the bread still warm, and the melon was absolutely delicious, almost melting in her mouth. "It is all very good," she pronounced as she finished. She washed her hands in a silver ewer the slave girl held out, drying them on a small linen towel provided. The tray was removed.

"We will now go to the baths," Baba Hassan announced.

"But I have no clothes!" India protested.

"You do not need clothing to bathe, and you are certainly in need of bathing," was the tart reply. "You have soft skin, and so are obviously used to washing, but I doubt you could have done so aboard your ship. Why are you so modest, lady? There are only women here."

"You are not a woman," India snapped at him.

"Neither am I a man," he replied dryly, helping her to her feet. "Come along now. The lady Azura will be waiting for us." He pulled back the gauze draperies.

They were in a large room, India now saw. Here and there were other partitions formed by the sheer draperies. Beautiful young women lounged about on low, silk-covered furniture and upon satin-covered pillows. Warm air blew through the latticed windows. There were cages of songbirds hung in the windows. India still felt embarrassed to be so vulnerable among these women, but, remembering her cousin's warning, she grit her teeth and held her head high, ignoring the spiteful remarks spoken in French so she would be certain of understanding them as she passed through the harem.

"Her breasts are too small. Are we certain she is a girl?"

"Dark hair. Ho hum, how common," an overblown blonde said.

"She is soooo hairy."

"Her buttocks are nice enough."

"But the dey is not that kind," came the reply, followed by a round of malicious tittering.

"Do you think she's a virgin?" asked another girl.

"She must be. Who would want such a creature?" was the answer.

"She does not look like she will hold much interest for our master once he has taken her maidenhead."

"If he even bothers to before giving her away to some desert sheikeh he wants to believe he is honoring."

There was more laughter among the women of the dey's harem, and India could feel her cheeks flaming. She needed desperately to retaliate so these pampered creatures would not think she was easy prey. She stopped, and, turning about, slowly said with devastating effect, "I wonder which of you I will kill first." Then she continued onward, following behind Baba Hassan with apparent meekness. Behind her there was a sudden, shocked silence.

"You have a fine sense of the dramatic," the eunuch observed wryly as they left the main room of the harem and entered the baths.

"Ahh, here you are." Azura hurried forward, smiling.

"I will leave you in the lady Azura's competent hands while I return to restore order out of the chaos you have created. Half of the ladies will be weeping with fear from your fierce remark." The eunuch departed.

"What on earth did you do?" Azura asked India.

"Those common creatures made unkind remarks about me as I passed through their domain," India replied. "I only considered out loud which one of them I should kill first. Surely they didn't really believe me. I only did it to spite them."

Azura laughed. "You will have frightened them to death," she told India. "You come from a land where the women are free in comparison to the women here. Your women may own land, walk the streets unveiled, in many cases even have a say in choosing their own husbands. Those vapid creatures peopling the dey's harem are incapable of such independence. Their sole reason for being is focused on pleasing Caynan Reis, and any new inhabitant of this harem is considered a threat to be frightened away. You, however, were not in the least intimidated by the ladies of the harem. Indeed, you threatened them with violence, and having heard of your attempt on the dey's life this morning, they fully believe you capable of such an act. It was most naughty of you to terrorize them so." Then she laughed again.

"Where is your homeland?" India suddenly asked Azura.

"I was born in Poitou," Azura said quietly. "Like you, my father was of the noble class, and I, his eldest daughter. I was sent one summer when I was twelve, and a marriage was being arranged for me, to visit relatives near Marseilles. One day, Barbary corsairs stormed ashore, and I was taken, along with my cousins, into captivity. The former dey, Sharif el Mohammed, was my only master. I have lived in this palace for thirty years."

"You had no children?" India couldn't resist being curious.

Azura shook her head. "Sharif el Mohammed had no offspring," she said. "Women, of course, are blamed in such a situation, but my good lord knew better, which is why he never put me aside." She smiled at India. "You are so full of questions, my child, and I must get you bathed. You have never seen baths like these, I will wager."

And indeed India had not. The room into which they entered was constructed of creamy marble. Domed, its pillars were of a pale green marble. In the center of the room was a round pool directly beneath the dome. Around the room were fountains with gold spigots set into the walls, above shell-like indentations in the marble floor. There were marble benches in varying heights set about. The room was warm and damp, and the air was scented with roses. Several slave women hurried forward, bowing politely to the lady Azura.

"Here is the new maiden," Azura said. "You must prepare her properly for our master. She has been aboard ship for many weeks, and is in need of much attention, but unlike many of these girls, she does bathe regularly as you will see by the softness of her skin."

The bath attendants took India in their charge.

"I will remain with you," Azura assured her.

The bath women tsked-tsked over the condition of India's thick, dark curls, admired her golden eyes, and then set to work. She was stood in one of the floor shells and rinsed. A young woman with a small curved silver instrument ran the implement over India's entire body. To her surprise, India saw dirt being scraped off of her skin. She was rinsed again. Next she was washed very thoroughly by two ladies holding large sea sponges filled with a foamy soap. When they had finished, and she had been rinsed off a third time, another woman knelt to examine India's body so closely that India blushed with embarrassment.

"What is she doing?" India asked Azura as the woman began to smear a pink paste that smelled of almonds over her legs and Venus mound. "Does she have to touch me so intimately?"

"Our men do not like body hair on a woman," Azura explained as the bath attendant lifted each of India's arms in turn and spread her mixture beneath the upraised arms. "The almond paste will remove the offense. It won't take long, I promise."

While they waited for the depilatory to do its work, India's hair was thoroughly washed, and then toweled almost dry. Azura admired the girl's tresses, for India had hair that curled naturally even to the end of its length, which was about midback. The older woman lifted a handful of the curls admiringly, feeling its texture and thickness.

"It's lovely," she said. "Here in the sultan's realm maidens with golden or flame-colored hair are usually the most valuable, but your marvelous ebony curls are quite wonderful," Azura told the younger woman. "These curls are truly your crowning glory, my child."

The pink paste was washed away, and India found herself feeling shy again as her Venus mound was suddenly so prominently displayed. Azura led her into the bathing pool, which was warm and quite relaxing. India was surprised to see what a fine body the older woman had despite her age.

"When you are feeling relaxed, we shall leave the pool, and the slaves will massage our bodies with sweet oils," Azura explained.

"Do you do this every day?" India asked her.

"Yes," Azura replied. "Bathing is a very social amenity. The poor go to the public baths, the hours being specified for men and for women. There they wash, and exchange gossip and just talk."

"Does the dey heed your words, my lady," India asked. "He must if he entrusts his harem to you. You must tell him that I am a very wealthy girl and can buy my freedom. I must be returned to my family. Since Adrian and I snuck away just as my family was to return home to Scotland, it is just possible that no scandal has arisen from our behavior. If I could just get back home again it would be all right."

Azura was very quiet for a long moment, and then she said, "I will not lie to you, my child. Caynan Reis has not need of your wealth, for he is wealthy beyond all. It is highly unusual for a young and beautiful woman to be ransomed out of Barbary. Once I thought as you did. My heart was broken, and only when I accepted my fate was I able to be happy again. You are not like the little fools peopling his harem. You are clever, and you are intelligent. You can win him over with those qualities if you will but try. I do not believe he has ever loved, which is why it is so easy for him to give his women away when he tires of them, and that is often, for they bore him. I suspect he may have once been betrayed by a woman he was beginning to care for, and so he trusts no woman entirely, not even me. If you displease him enough, he will dispose of you by offering you to someone he wishes to honor, or if you anger him, he will give you to his soldiers to be a barracks whore. He has done it before."

"Has he no heart then?" India asked, a little frightened now.

"Oh, he has a heart," Azura answered the girl, "but it is buried deep within the ice of his soul. Someone must touch him, and melt that ice one day. I think that someone could be you, India."

"I don't know how to make love to a man," India half whispered. "And how can I allow a man I do not even know the freedom of my body?"

"Of course you don't know how to make love," Azura said with a gentle laugh. "You are a virgin, and such knowledge has not yet been imparted to you. Once you have been unburdened of your maidenhead, I will tutor you myself in the arts of love. I have never before done this for any girl, but I believe you can become the dey's true favorite." She patted India's cheek comfortingly. "Come now, and let us have our massage, my child. You will feel ever so much better after it."

They stepped from the warmth of the pool to be dried with thick, fluffy, warm towels such as India had never before seen. Then they lay down upon separate benches, each of which had been padded with a small mattress, and the masseuses began to knead their bodies with fragrant oils, their strong fingers digging deep into muscles, and India finally began to relax. She was being seduced by this delicious luxury, and she knew it, but she didn't really mind at this point in time.

When the masseuses had finished, they arose to be dressed. Azura chose for India a coral-colored silk garment that she called a kaftan. There were wide bands of gold thread embroidery at the wrists of the flowing sleeves, and at the keyhole design of the neckline. Azura now ordered India's curls to be brushed, and a gold band was fit about her forehead. A slave brought Azura a jewel case, and the older woman chose a pair of earbobs, which she carefully fixed in India's earlobes. They were gold, and shaped like stars. Gold bangles were pushed onto both her arms. Then the mistress of the baths personally pared India's finger- and toenails as short as she could without cutting her.

"There, my lady Azura, she is ready," the bath mistress said.

Azura, who had dressed herself in a deep purple-and-silver kaftan turned to look at her charge. "Ahhh, yes, she is lovely," she said. "My compliments, Fatima. As always, your work is perfection."

The bath mistress beamed, well pleased.

"Come, my child," Azura called to India, and she led her back into the main room of the harem.

The other girls were now asleep, lying upon their mattresses within their curtained alcoves.

Azura settled India within her cubicle. "I will return for you when it is time," she said softly.

"Time for what?" India said quickly, her nerves tightening again.

"Why, my child, surely you understood that the dey wishes your presence this evening," the harem mistress said. Then she patted India's flushed cheek. "It will be all right, India. You must trust me. I have only your best interests at heart." Then she was gone.

India was horrified. She didn't know this man, nor he her, and yet he would take her to his bed tonight? What kind of a world was she in now? Once again she wished she had obeyed her parents instead of forcing the issue to obtain her own way. She suddenly remembered asking Lady Stewart-Hepburn what it was like to be in a harem. Had it been exciting or awful? Both, her stepgrandmother had replied, but Cat Leslie hadn't been a virgin when she had faced the passions of a powerful Turk. And while it had been exciting to experience the baths with the lady Azura, what lay ahead was too awful to contemplate. Once she had been in the dey's bed, there was no turning back for her. She could never go home again. Never see her parents, or her brothers, or Fortune. The tears came, silent and soundless, for India would allow no one to hear her sorrow, or her pain.

But perhaps there was yet hope. Perhaps the lady Azura would take pity on her despite her honest explanation to India that there was no going back. If Azura pitied her, she would surely speak to the dey. It was India's experience that the rich always wanted more, with few exceptions. Surely this dey was not so wealthy that he couldn't use more wealth. Exhausted, India lay upon her mattress and dozed, praying as she slipped into sleep that the dey might relent and send her home in exchange for a ransom.

Azura had left her charge and gone directly to the dey's apartments. He waved her to a chair, and a servant put a goblet of fresh juice into her hand. Azura sipped the liquid, and then, looking up at the dey, said, "She is terrified, but she will not admit to it, my lord. You must treat this maiden very gently."

"You know I am not rough with my women," he replied.

"My lord, Allah has surely sent you this maiden," Azura told him. "She is of your own race, your own class, and if you can but win her over, she would make you a fine wife. She is very beautiful, my lord."

"I had little time to notice," he said mockingly. "I was too busy defending my life from the little wildcat."

Azura laughed. "Her aim was very poor, my lord. She did not even scratch the skin, the physician tells me."

"You like this wench, don't you, Azura? I have never known you to care for one of my women," the dey said.

"Perhaps I am getting old," Azura replied. "This girl could be the daughter I never had, my lord. I barely know her, and yet I like her. There is something about her that touches me. Mayhap it is her courage, for though she is frightened, she conceals it well. When those silly creatures in your harem insulted her this afternoon, she contemplated aloud which one of them she would kill first and set them into hysterics." Azura chuckled. "It was quick witted of her, and most deftly done. They will think long and hard before attacking her again. Yet she responds well to reason and kindness. I have had no difficulty with her at all."

He was thoughtful a moment, and then he said, "So you think I need a wife, do you, my dear Azura? Why?"

"Surely you want sons, my lord. Every man wants sons," she answered him. "Perhaps one day you may go home to your England again, and bring your sons to your father's house."

The dey's face darkened. "I shall never go home again, Azura. How can I with a charge of murder hanging over me? I need no sons for Oxton, nor a proper English wife. What I want is revenge, and I have the means of enacting that revenge. The young man I sentenced to the galleys this morning, the one your India longs for, he is my younger half-brother, now my father's heir. If he lives long enough for me to ransom him. He did not recognize me, of course, for ten years have passed since we last saw each other. I should not have recognized him, either, but for his pompous bleating about his importance. Aruj Agha has been told, and will look out for him, but Adrian will row his hands raw for a few months before I inform his dear mother that he is a captive in Barbary. And when she pays his ransom, for MariElena will move heaven and earth to redeem her precious offspring, only then will I reveal myself to my sibling."

"And India?" Azura asked.

"Her very presence here will have ruined her reputation in England," the dey said.

"She tells me that her family was returning home when she ran off with your half-brother, my lord. She believes her reputation could be yet salvaged if she could be ransomed. Take your revenge upon your brother, and send India home to her family. You do not need this particular maiden in your bed," Azura concluded. She had had no intentions of pleading for India until she heard the dey's plans. It disturbed her that he could be so vindictive. True, he was a hard man, for to rule he had no other choice, but this was cruel.

"No," Caynan Reis said implacably. "It is going to give me double pleasure to tell Adrian how delightful a bed partner I found his little betrothed. Of course, being the swine he is, he doesn't want her now. He believes she gave herself to Aruj Agha because the agha was kind to her while she was in his charge. Kindness is a quality with which my half-brother is not familiar. Still, he was never one to share his possessions even when he tired of them. The knowledge that I have had the girl when he has not will enrage him, and give me great satisfaction.

"I also suspect that the girl's family did not approve of him, and so he cajoled the silly creature into running away with him to be married. When they learn he has been ransomed, and she is my captive, I suspect his life will not be worth a great deal anymore. My stepmother will not be able to protect him from the lady India's father and her brothers." Caynan Reis laughed grimly. "I can but imagine her terror and her eventual pain."

"But what of your father?" Azura said quietly. "If India's family kill your half-brother, who will follow your father?"

"I know not," the dey replied. "As for my father, he was quick to believe the worst of me, and under the influence of that bitch he married after my own mother died, he disinherited me, I was told. He deserves to have his line die out. How could he believe I was so lacking in honor that I would kill a man over the favors of a well-known court strumpet? That we quarreled over her is true, but neither Lord Jeffers or myself would have killed over such a woman."

"I had not realized before how deep your pain, my lord," Azura said gently.

"The girl, India," Caynan Reis changed the subject. "Do you believe she is really a virgin? If Adrian could convince her to leave her family, perhaps he also convinced her to part with her virtue."

"I cannot answer that question without the physician examining her, my lord," Azura told him truthfully, "but if I were to hazard a guess, I would say absolutely yes. She is a virgin. Her demeanor is modest and quite innocent." She reached out and took his big hand, saying pleadingly, "Promise me, my lord, that you will treat her with kindness."

"Do you know me for a beast?" he demanded curtly, pulling his hand from hers. His blue eyes were indignant.

"You are angry, my lord, but the girl is English," Azura said wisely. "Remember, you yourself believe she was cozened by your half-brother, who probably acted on your stepmother's instructions. She is as much their victim as you once were. Be kind to her, my lord."

"No wonder Sharif Mohammed loved you," Caynan Reis said. "Your heart is too good, Azura, but I will promise you that I shall not harm the girl. Provided, of course, that she does not attempt to harm me again," he concluded with a small smile. "I shall make certain I am not wearing any weapons when we meet later this evening."

"Then I shall bring her to you, my lord?"

"I must first bathe, Azura. I have not had the time today before now. Bring her to me in an hour's time, and then you may go to bed. Tell Baba Hassan that I will keep her with me until dawn. He is to come for her then, and escort her back to the harem."

Azura arose, and bowed to the dey. Then she hurried from the room to find the chief eunuch. Baba Hassan was ensconced most comfortably in his own elegant quarters, smoking on a water pipe, when the lady Azura joined him. Wiping the mouth of the pipe, he offered it to her as she seated herself opposite him. Drawing upon the hookah, Azura pulled the water-cooled tobacco into her mouth, and then released it. It was most soothing. Rubbing her essence from the mouth of the pipe, she passed it back to the eunuch.

"I have just come from the dey. He will keep the girl until dawn when you are to escort her back to the harem."

"So," Baba Hassan said with a smile, "you have put your little plan into operation, have you, my old friend?"

"I will not reveal to you what I have heard from his lips this night," Azura told her companion, "but he desperately needs to love, and be loved in return. Of this I am convinced. I believe this girl may be the one to find his heart."

"It is not a good time, Azura, for him to be distracted from the business of governing El Sinut," Baba Hassan said. "I hear whispers on the winds. There is trouble coming."

"What do you hear?" she asked him.

"It is the janissaries again," Baba Hassan said wearily. "They are planning yet another revolt against the Sublime Porte. Their people have been all throughout the empire seeking secret support, attempting to find weaknesses in the vassal states. I am told they will promise the rulers of Barbary autonomy, and freedom from paying tribute to Istanbul, in exchange for their aid."

She did not ask from where he had obtained his information, or if the source was reliable, for Baba Hassan would not have brought it to her attention if it were just idle gossip. Her only question was, "Does the dey know yet?"

The chief eunuch shook his head in the negative. "So far no emissary has come from Istanbul to El Sinut."

"And Aruj Agha?" she questioned him. "Do you think he will be loyal to the sultan or to his fellow janissaries?"

"Aruj Agha has been in El Sinut as long as Caynan Reis has," the eunuch said slowly. "I think he would be loyal to the sultan, but the camaraderie of the corps is strong, and his family has a history of service to it."

"And who would they replace Sultan Murad with, Baba Hassan?"

"The Valide Kiusem had three sons by Sultan Ahmed. Murad has two younger brothers, Ibhrahim and Bayazet."

"But it is the Valide Kiusem who is the true power in Istanbul right now as Sultan Murad is just thirteen," Azura said. "What difference does it make which one of her sons rules if she rules for them?"

"They intend to murder both her and Sultan Murad," Baba Hassan replied. "Then they will put their own people in place, and rule for the next sultan, who will be of their own choosing, and much too young to rule for himself. They might even slaughter the other prince to prevent any rival faction like the Siphatis from springing up. The janissaries are not merciful. Remember young Osman whom they brutally murdered a few years ago, my lady Azura? They have grown very powerful in the last hundred years, and as their strength has increased, so has their influence. They are rapacious in their desire for wealth, and for domination over the empire. If they could rule without a sultan, I truly believe that they would."

"Then perhaps it is a good time for the dey to fall in love, Baba Hassan," the mistress of the harem said thoughtfully. "Right now, his heart is cold, his memories of his family and his homeland bitter. He could act rashly, for what has he to lose? But if he loved the girl, if she bore him a child, then his actions would be wiser, for he would not want to lose this new family to capricious fate, as he lost his old family."

"I cannot fault your instincts in the past, Azura," the eunuch said slowly. "Mayhap you are right now, and perhaps the rumors will come to nothing and the janissaries be content for a time."

"The janissaries are never content," she replied, "but Istanbul is a long way from El Sinut. With luck we will escape the plotting and the inevitable betrayals that will come about from this latest conspiracy."

"I pray to Allah, the most merciful and compassionate, that you are correct, Azura," Baba Hassan answered fervently.

She smiled slightly. "So do I," she said. "Now our main goal is to see that India and Caynan Reis find love together."

"They are two difficult young persons. I suspect dealing with the janissaries may be easier," he told her with a small chuckle.

^{Chapter 8}

India had been dozing. She was feeling very relaxed, and the soft fabric of the kaftan against her skin was soothing. Then, to her annoyance, she was shaken awake, and she heard Azura's voice in her ear.

"Awaken, my child. It is time."

India slowly opened her eyes, rolling back over to ask the older woman, "Time for what, madame?"

"Time for you to go to the dey," came the answer.

She was suddenly awake and completely alert. "Tonight? He would really ask for me? After what I did?" Her heart was beginning to pound with anxiety.

Azura gently pulled India from her mattress. "There is nothing for you to be afraid of, my child," she soothed the girl.

"I am not afraid!" India protested, but in truth she was. Still, had not Thomas Southwood warned her about appearing frightened? India determined to show no fear no matter what happened.

Azura ignored her protests, drawing a brush through her charge's dark curls, instructing her to rinse her mouth with mint water, and then leading her from the harem into a dimly lit hallway at the end of which were two large arched doors, studded with brass nails and hinged with heavy black iron hinges. Azura pulled the doors open slightly, and said softly, "Go in, my child. He awaits you." Then she gave India a delicate but effective push into the chamber, drawing the doors shut behind her.

The room was softly lit by a large hanging lamp burning scented oil. There was the sound of a tinkling fountain that, India reasoned, was in the gardens she could see beyond the room, past the curved pillars with their pale gauze draperies, that hardly stirred in the warm night air. The floor beneath her feet was tiled. The furnishings were simple but elegant, of polished wood, brass, and tile; some chests, tables, and a single chair with a leather seat.

"Come here!"

India started at the curt, commanding voice, and her eyes went to a large dais of carved wood, decorated in gold and silver gilt, which harbored a huge mattress covered in coral and gold-striped silk. The dey, wearing only his white pantaloons, lounged arrogantly upon the mattress. Her eyes widened slightly. She had never seen a man so… so… unclothed. It was very disconcerting. His chest was smooth and golden. His one garment was worn low on his narrow hips, and cut low to reveal his navel. Without the small turban he had worn in his audience chamber, she could see that he was dark-haired.

"Come here!" he repeated.

India shook her head imperceptibly.

Caynan Reis let his eyes examine the girl as she stood, visibly trembling, her back pressed to the door. She was absolutely the most beautiful creature he had ever encountered. The flawless porcelain, ivory skin. He had noted it when he had whipped her earlier. Cleaned up, he could see the prize he had snatched from his brother. He wanted to kiss the full, lush mouth and run his long fingers through her dark, silky curls. He could see she was terrified. Her golden eyes gave her away, but her stance was pure defiance. He slid off the mattress, curious as to how far she would challenge his authority over her.

Seeing him on his feet, coming toward her, India swung about, her hands pushing against the door desperately. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out as she felt him behind her, his body pressed lightly against hers. She could barely breathe, but she swallowed the cry in her tight and aching throat, standing perfectly still even as she heard his steady breathing next to her. When one of his hands slammed against the door by her head, she jumped in terror.

He laughed softly. "You are afraid," he said, his fingers pulling her dark hair aside, his warm lips kissing the nape of her neck.

"No!" India managed to grate out, her nose just pressing against the heavy oak door between brass nails.

"I will not hurt you," he said, leaning around to nibble upon the delicate lobe of ear. "Ummmm. As I suspected. You are delicious."

She remained silent, although if the truth had been known, a succession of shivers was racing up and down her spine.

"You are a very disobedient little slave," he told her, his fingers playing with her curls.

"I am not a slave," India said fiercely. "I am Lady India Anne Lindley, daughter of the duke of Glenkirk, sister of the marquis of Westleigh, the duke of Lundy, and Lord Leslie of Glenkirk. You have no right to hold me! I am a free-born English woman, and no slave!"

"Your lineage is impressive," he told her softly, "but you speak of what you were, India, and not of who you are now. You are a spoil of war, brought to me by one of my captains, and thus you have become a slave." He pushed his body hard against hers. "It is time you learned your place in this new world you have entered. You are my slave. Your sole purpose in life is to please me."

"Never!" The brass nails in the door were pressing against her delicate flesh.

He laughed at her defiance and nipped the back of her neck with sharp teeth. "What other choice do you have?" he mocked.

"I will die," she replied grimly.

"Little fool," he growled low in his throat, "do you think I will allow that to happen quickly? First I would give you to the janissaries in the palace barracks for their pleasure. Do you believe they would accept your feeble refusals? They would strip you naked, holding you down while they took their pleasure of you again and again and again. You would be subjected to every kind of perversion known to man, my innocent little virgin, and when they had finally destroyed your spirit, and your beauty, you would become a common barracks drudge. It would take you some time, several years I suspect, before you would finally die of disease and starvation, India. Is that what you really want?"

The words he spoke were terrifying. "No," she whispered.

"Then you will yield yourself to me," he said quietly.

Again she shook her head. "You may ravish me, my lord, but I will never yield to you. Ever!"

"Ravish?" He tasted the word with his tongue, greatly offended. "Ravish? I want to make love to you, little fool. I want to caress these soft white limbs." His big hand slipped beneath her wide sleeve, and then smoothed down her arm. "I want to love every inch of your body, and kiss that tempting mouth until it is bruised with my kisses." His hands grasped her shoulders. "I want to hear you cry with pleasure when our bodies join and we become one, but I do not want to ravish you."

"The only way you will have me, my lord, is to force me," India said stonily.

He made a sound of annoyance as his hands dropped away from her shoulders. "Little fool," he warned her, "do you not realize that I could have you bound and then take my pleasure of you? You would rejoice when I had finished, for I would have shown you Paradise. No, you do not understand, and I will not coerce a mere girl in order to teach joy to a reluctant maiden. I will not allow you to drive me to such a thing." Grasping her arm, he yanked her away from the door, and then, opening it, half dragged her down the corridor to Azura's private apartments. Entering, he pushed India to the floor, and put a firm foot upon her. "This slave girl," he told the startled Azura, "is unmanageable, my lady. Keep her with you tonight, and then tomorrow Baba Hassan will come and prepare her to serve me as my body slave. I should give her to my janissaries, but I am too soft-hearted, and you know well the reason why; but she will service me in some capacity. If my bed is not to her liking, then there are other ways she may be useful." Lifting his leg, he pushed the shaken girl toward the harem mistress, and then, turning about, departed.

India crouched upon the tile floor trembling.

"What happened?" Azura demanded, struggling to keep the anger from her voice. Was this silly little virgin going to spoil all their plans with her stubborn nature? I will not let her do this, Azura thought angrily. She roughly pulled India to her feet.

"I refused him," came the expected answer from the pale-faced girl. "I told him he would have to ravish me, but I would not yield myself willingly, and I will not!"

Azura shook her head despairingly. "Do you know what might have happened to you?" she cried. "Have you any idea how fortunate you are that he has shown you mercy? This is a fair man, but he is not an easy man. He might have killed you where you stood, and it was his right for you are only a slave now, India. Oh, I don't know what will happen to you! Allah! We must convince him to forgive your outrageous behavior and accept you back in his bed."

"I will not be a whore!" India's voice broke, and, in spite of herself, she began to cry. The dey had terrified her, first with his talk of the janissaries, and then when he had dragged her down the hallway, she had thought surely he was going to carry out his threat. "I want to go home," she sobbed.

"You are home," Azura snapped. "Unless, of course, you continue in your foolish behavior. Allah only knows where you will end up then! Perhaps in some sheikeh's tent out on the desert where your fair skin will be burned leathery as you squat over a campfire cooking your master's supper of couscous and goat." Then, relenting her harshness, she put her arms about the girl to comfort her.

"Won't the dey just ransom me now?" India sniffled.

"No, my child. I have spoken the truth to you when I told you that there is no hope of a ransom for you. You must accept your fate. Now, what is so terrible about becoming the beloved of Caynan Reis? He is handsome, and yet young. If you would give him a child, your position in his household would be assured, particularly if that child was a son. Would this not have been your fate in your own England, India? To marry and have children?"

"You want me to marry the dey?" India was astounded.

"He will take you for his wife if you give him a child," Azura half lied. "That is the way of this world."

"But I am a Christian, and he is an infidel," India pointed out.

"He follows the teachings of Islam, my child," Azura said.

"Mama's father, her real father, not BrocCairn, was a Muslim," India considered thoughtfully.

"We all worship the same God," Azura told her in practical tones. "What difference does it make how we worship."

India was thoughtful, and then she asked, "What will happen to me now, my lady? What did the dey mean when he said I was to serve him as his body slave? I do not understand."

"You will be at your master's beck and call around the clock, my child, and you will serve him in all ways except in his bed," Azura explained. "You will have no place in the harem."

"But where will I sleep?" India cried.

"Wherever the dey tells you you may sleep," she replied. "Do not be afraid, India. It is a mild punishment he gave you for the affront to his pride. Perhaps it is better. You will learn to know him." She smiled encouragingly at the girl. "You may sleep here with me tonight upon the divan. Then, in the morning, Baba Hassan will explain your duties to you." She patted India's hand gently. "Lie down now, my child. You look absolutely exhausted, and I can see you are near collapse."

It was barely dawn when Baba Hassan came to awaken India. Both his look and his tone were disapproving. "Get up, girl! Your master must be awakened and bathed."

India scrambled to her feet, casting a desperate look at Azura, but the mistress of the harem ignored her.

"Come along," the head eunuch said, and India quickly followed him. "Now, after you have awakened the dey, girl, you will escort him to the baths, to bathe and dress him, and then you will fetch his breakfast. I will help you this morning, but after today, you must know your duties without me, and carry them out." Baba Hassan pushed open the door to the dey's suite, calling as he did in a low but clear voice, "Awaken, my lord dey. The dawn is breaking, and you have a full schedule." He pulled the naked girl from the dey's side. "Return to the harem, Layla." Then he looked at India. "Gently touch him, girl, and bid him awake."

Gingerly she reached out, and brushed his shoulder with her fingers. "Awaken, my lord," she half whispered.

Caynan Reis rolled over, looking up at her. "She isn't garbed properly," he noted to Baba Hassan.

"She must bathe you, my lord. She will be given her new garments after she has completed her first duties," the eunuch answered his master.

The dey arose. "Let us begin then."

India's eyes widened with surprise and shock. The dey was stark naked. She didn't know where to look, and what made it worse was the slight smile upon his lips that mocked her. First that overripe little creature in his bed! Was she going to be expected to rouse those women every day? Now his nakedness when he certainly knew that she had never seen a naked man in her entire life! Her cheeks burned with her embarrassment.

"The dey has his own private bath," Baba Hassan informed her. He moved across the chamber through another arched door, saying as he went, "Remove your kaftan, girl. You cannot bathe your master dressed. Your garment would be ruined with the water and the steam." They were in the bath's anteroom, and the eunuch swiftly whisked the kaftan over her head, handing it to a waiting slave.

There was no time to protest, or even feel shy. India swallowed hard, not daring to look at Caynan Reis's handsome face, for she knew instinctively that he would be silently taunting her, and she would want to smack his face. She had already learned that attacks on the dey would not be tolerated. She was amazed that her back was free of soreness after the five strokes he had meted out to her yesterday.

"The first thing you must do," the eunuch began, and then he went on to instruct India in the proper method of bathing a man.

"Wield the scraper yourself, Baba Hassan," the dey instructed the eunuch. "I am loath to allow a pointed object in her hand quite yet."

India rinsed Caynan Reis using a silver basin after he had been scraped free of sweat and dirt.

"Very good," the eunuch approved. "Now, continue on as I have instructed you, and when the master is soaking in the heated pool, wash yourself, for it is the only time you will have to do so each day. Then bring our lord to the masseuse, and I will give you your new clothes." Baba Hassan hurried off leaving India alone with the dey.

Caynan Reis sat down upon a marble bench, nodding at India to begin the ablutions. First she washed his dark hair, and when she had rinsed it thoroughly, she toweled it free of water. Then, kneeling, she washed his feet, and lower legs. He stood, and India washed his upper legs, his chest, his belly, hurrying behind him to wash his back, shoulders, buttock, and the back of his legs. Then she rinsed him thoroughly. He had the most beautiful body, she thought, wondering as she did if it were proper for a woman to see a man naked and admire his form. He seemed to be in perfect proportion, lean and hard.

"I am finished, my lord," she said softly.

"I think not," he told her. "You have not yet washed my manhood, India. Remember you are now my body slave, and it is your duty to bathe all of me. My manhood is an important part of me."

"Could you not bathe it yourself?" she ventured. My God! He couldn't really want her to wash him there!

"Take your cloth, kneel down, and do your duty, India," he said in a not-to-be-argued-with voice.

India gritted her teeth. Iam not going to allow him to bully me, she thought, kneeling down before him. God! It was staring her in the face. Were they all so big? And what was that hanging beneath and behind it? She dipped the cloth into the alabaster jar of thick soap.

"Be gentle," he warned her. "It is tender, and needs a delicate touch. You do not want to injure so fine an instrument as this."

"I'm certain there are better in the world," she retorted, the words out of her mouth before she realized it.

To her relief he laughed. "Possibly," he agreed, "but you must trust me, my little virgin, when I tell you my manhood is a weapon to be reckoned with, and I have had no complaints from my women."

India washed him, and rinsed the potent flesh with warm water. "Your women would not dare complain, my lord. They might be banished from the comfortable idleness of your harem if they did. Now, I believe you are ready for the bathing pool." Turning away from him, she let the dey make his own way into the warm, perfumed water, quickly washing herself while he relaxed. When she had finished, he beckoned her.

"Join me," he said, his look daring her.

India glided down the steps into the water, sighing softly at the luxury of it, and positioning herself opposite him. She said nothing.

"You have the lushest mouth," he told her. "Have you ever been kissed?"

She nodded in the affirmative. His eyes were so blue.

"By your lover, the English milord?"

"He was not my lover, my lord. We were to marry."

"Who else kissed you in an amorous manner?" he demanded.

"No one, my lord. I am not some lightskirt," India replied.

He moved quickly through the water, standing before her, and his lips lightly brushed hers. "Did your milord ever touch you?"

"Once," she whispered. It was really most disconcerting standing here in the warm pool, her body just touching his. "He touched my breasts once." The admission colored her cheeks.

"Like this?" He cupped one of her breasts, his fingers lightly brushing her nipples.

India's eyes closed briefly. "Aye."

"And you liked it," he said softly.

"Please, my lord," India said. Then, pushing him away, for his nearness was most distressing, she exited the pool. "The masseuse awaits, my lord. Please come, and let me dry you."

"In the end," he told her, "you will yield to me, India, but I will be patient with you, for I believe you are a prize worth having." Then he left the bathing room, and she followed slowly, confused.

Baba Hassan was awaiting her. "I have the garment you are to wear in your capacity as the dey's body servant." He handed her a pair of while silk pantaloons with wide bands of gold and silver embroidery at the ankles and about the hips. The pantaloons rode low on her body, baring her navel. The eunuch now stood before her, a small pot and a brush in his hands. Dipping the brush into the pot, he painted each of her nipples carmine red. When he had finished, he said, "You are ready, girl. Go now, and help your master dress for the day."

"Surely there is another garment for me to wear," she gasped, looking down at her bright red nipples.

"This is the costume of a female body slave," the eunuch answered. Then his brown forehead wrinkled. "What am I thinking!" he cried out, and drew from a pocket a beautiful narrow gold collar bejeweled with all manner of gems: diamonds, rubies, emeralds, pearls, sapphires. He fastened it carefully about her throat. "It is not too tight?"

Wordlessly India shook her head, shocked.

"Then go and attend the dey, girl. When he is dressed, and you have escorted him back into his apartment, I shall show you the way to the kitchens. Now go, and stand by your master until the masseuse is finished with her duties."

Caynan Reis was lying upon a pad that had been set on the masseuse's marble bench. He was on his stomach, his head turned to one side, a small sturdily built woman of indeterminate age massaging his buttocks with strong fingers. He opened his eyes and looked lazily at her. "Remain where I can see you," he said, closing his eyes again.

India stood stock-still, her mind awhirl. She could scarcely believe what had happened to her. She was an English noblewoman, not some slave and yet at this moment in time she was a slave girl. She was not the first woman in her family to find herself in such a position. Her grandmother, her great-grandmother, Great-aunt Valentina, even her stepfather's mother had all at one time in their existences been enslaved as she was now enslaved; but they had escaped their captivity, and India intended that she would escape, too. There was only one difference between India and her female relations. The others had not been virgins at the time of their captivity. They had all been married or widowed.

India's golden eyes strayed to the dey's long form. The masseuse was now busily kneading his right leg. It was a shapely leg, she thought, nicely formed, the thigh well muscled, the calf prettily rounded. The foot at the end of the leg below the narrow ankle was lengthy and slender. The masseuse's hands worked the dey's big foot, her thick thumbs pressing up and down the arch, massaging the ball of the foot, pulling each toe slowly and carefully. India watched, fascinated, her eyes following the masseuse's every move, unaware that Caynan Reis was watching her through the slits in his dark-blue eyes.

When the masseuse had finally finished her task, she spoke softly to the dey, and, bowing, withdrew.

"Help me up," he said to India, and when she had aided him to roll over and sit, he casually put his long legs over the table, and stood. "My clothing for the day is in the cedar cabinet there," he told her. "From now on it will be your duty to see that fresh clothing is there for me every morning and every evening. Baba Hassan will tell you my schedule, and if the clothes I need will be for an ordinary day or for an occasion. You cannot sleep as late as you did in the morning, India. In future you must be up long before I am to make your preparations. Do you understand?"

"I am not a fool, my lord. I understand quite well," she replied sharply.

He caught her by the wrist, saying in a hard voice, "If there had been anyone else in the room now when you spoke to me as you did, I should have had to have you beaten again, India. When you address me your voice must be dulcet and amenable, as befits a dutiful female slave. You offended me greatly last night, but I was not unkind. I realized you were frightened finding yourself in what must seem difficult circumstances to an English duke's daughter. You are being given a second chance as my body slave, but I will tolerate neither disobedience nor a sharp tongue from you. If you displease me further, I will give you to my guards to tame."

India opened her mouth to berate him, but remembering her cousin's warning to her, said instead, "Yes, my lord. I apologize."

"If you serve me well, you will find I am not a hard man," he told her, "but I am master of El Sinut, and it is not an easy task. Should I show the slightest weakness, even within the privacy of my household, I should be challenged. I would not serve my master, the sultan, well if I allowed the slightest discord within this vassal state of his. Do you understand, India? I am the dey, not some foolish courtier."

Strangely his words made sense to her. "Yes, my lord, I do understand," she told him. Then, going to the cedar cabinet, she opened it and viewed the garments he would wear today. The white silk shirt was embroidered in gold thread along the neckline. The cuffs of its full sleeves had wide bands that were bejeweled. She brought the shirt to him, slipping it over his head so that it slid over his broad shoulders and chest. There were no laces, and the shirt was open to midchest. India now brought him the white silk pantaloons.

"I can find no drawers," she said nervously.

"I don't wear any," he said softly.

She flushed, uncertain what to do next.

"You must help me on with the pantaloons," he told her, lifting one foot so she could slide the garment over it.

India ground her teeth together to prevent the pithy comment forming in her mind. Kneeling, she pulled the pantaloons over first one foot and then the other. As she stood up again, she drew the silk up his long legs, over his slim hips, finally covering his manhood, which had seemed to grow larger beneath her gaze, from her sight. She pulled the drawstring of the pantaloons together, making a bow and tucking it within the garment, her hand brushing against his flat belly as she did so. Again she flushed, but said in an even voice, "There are two sashes set out, my lord. Which one will you have?"

"Today I shall wear the silver," he told her. "I will show you how to wrap it about my waist," and he demonstrated the method when she had handed him the item in question. Unwinding it, he told her, "Now you do it, India," and when she had, and it was perfect, he complimented her. "Clever girl! You watched carefully."

"Will you take the sleeveless coat lined in the cloth-of-silver then, my lord?" It was a beautiful thing, India thought, the front of the coat embroidered in silver and gold thread, and small sparkling aquamarines and deeper blue tourmalines sewn on it.

"Yes," he said.

"It's so beautiful," India remarked. "Is this coat for an occasion, my lord?"

He shook his dark head. "Nay, India, but today my audience chamber is open to the people of El Sinut as it is one day each week. They come and bring their disputes to me to mediate. As I represent the sultan in Istanbul, it is important that I look a little majestic for them. It does both the people and the sultan I serve honor."

India looked into the cabinet again, bringing out embroidered silk slippers and a small silver turban decorated with a single water-blue aquamarine. "Will you wear these now, my lord?" she asked.

"Bring them with you," he told her. "After I break my fast, I shall finish dressing." Then he turned, and she followed after him back to his apartment where Baba Hassan was waiting.

The brown-skinned eunuch eyed the dey critically. "She has done well, my lord," he finally remarked.

"Yes," the dey replied with a small smile, "she has."

"We shall now go and fetch your meal, my lord. Where will you eat? Inside, or on the terrace?"

"It is still early, and the terrace faces west," the dey said. "I think I may eat there without fear of baking in our hot sun."

The eunuch gestured to India. "Come along, girl," he said impatiently, and she barely had time to set down the slippers and the turban before she had to race after him.

Outside in the hallway India cried out to the eunuch, "Please, Baba Hassan, if you go so quickly, I shall not be able to find my way by myself later."

The eunuch said nothing, but slowed his pace so she might be able to mark her passage alone tomorrow. They entered the kitchens, and he introduced India to Abu, whose domain it was.

"So this is the girl," Abu said meaningfully, looking her up and down. "You are a foolish creature," he noted.

"I have come for the dey's meal," India told him, ignoring the remark. "Will you help me, or must I go back to him, and say you would not?" India replied in a sweetly bland voice. She looked directly at Abu.

"The master was too gentle with you, girl," Abu said sourly.

"It is not my place to criticize the dey," India murmured. "You are bold to speak such words to me, but I shall not repeat your discourtesy to the dey, Abu. Now, what does he eat in the morning upon first arising? I do not know the foods of this place."

Grumbling beneath his onion-scented breath, Abu showed India how to set up the tray she would carry to the dey. "He enjoys a slice of ripe melon," Abu said, cutting a piece and placing it on a blue-and-white porcelain dish. "Yogurt." He ladled a silky white substance from a stone crock into a bowl that matched the dish. "Bread." He placed a small, round, flat loaf on a silver plate. "Honey." He put half a comb on another blue-and-white dish. "And coffee, which the coffee maker will come and make for him. Unless he requests something else, this is what he eats each morning. If there is no melon available, I will give you other fruit for him, for the dey enjoys fruit very much."

"Thank you," India said, picking up the tray and looking to the eunuch.

"Let us see if you were paying attention," Baba Hassan said. "Lead me back to our master's apartment." He was pleased when she was successful, and told her so. "I will go with you later, however, to make certain you remember, for tomorrow you must go alone."

They entered the dey's apartment, and went through to the small tiled terrace that opened onto the garden. India set the tray before the dey, who was seated at a small table. A wizened little man came bearing a brazier, a small pot, a blue-and-white cup and saucer, and other items. He squatted near the dey, emptying some dark-colored beans into a strange vessel, which India quickly discovered was a grinder. Grinding the beans, he heated water upon the brazier and added it to the beans which were now in the pot, which the dey told India was for brewing the coffee.

Caynan Reis ate his meal, and when he had finished, the old coffee maker brought him the aromatic Turkish coffee which had already been heavily sweetened to almost syrupy consistency. He sipped it.

"Clear the table, girl," Baba Hassan whispered to her.

"You may have what I have not eaten," the dey said, and then he ignored her, enjoying his coffee.

"Eat," Baba Hassan advised her. "Unless he tells you otherwise, his leavings are all you will get, girl."

Anger welled up in India, but she quickly swallowed it back. She was not going to allow her pride to overwhelm her good sense. There was still some orange on the melon rind. She nibbled at it, finding it sweet and quite delicious. The silver spoon remained within the bowl of the yogurt, Abu had called it. "What is it?" she asked the eunuch.

"Milk that has been allowed to go sour and congeal," he said.

India put the spoon in her mouth. It was tart, she decided, wrinkling her nose, but it wasn't unpleasant. She finished the bowl. He had left a third of the round loaf. India quickly stuffed it in her mouth, for she could see the dey was almost finished with his coffee. The eunuch handed his master a wet towel to wipe his hands and face with, and then gave it to India.

"Put it on the tray," he said as she wiped her own hands and face. "A maid servant will take the tray. You must now follow the dey as he goes about his business, but first put on his slippers and turban."

The dey sat, and India was forced to kneel as she fitted his silver brocade slippers onto his feet. Rising, she took the turban from Baba Hassan, and placed it upon his dark head.

"Now step back from your master, and bow," the eunuch said. "This indicates to him that you have finished, and he is ready."

India did as he bid her, wondering why once his feet were shod, and the small turban on his head, the dey couldn't figure that all out for himself. She wisely held her tongue, following Caynan Reis from his apartments in the company of the head eunuch. She was suddenly aware once again that her upper body was unclothed, and her bosom visible to anyone who would but look. It was really quite intolerable, but she believed if she gave any more difficulty at this time, she would find herself in worse difficulties than she already was. She was alive, and there was always the possibility of eventual escape.

They entered the audience hall through a small side door. Aruj Agha approached the dey, and with him was Tom Southwood, now in Turkish garb. Tom's eyes flicked over his cousin, shocked, then he quickly looked away. How she longed to speak to him, but she knew she dared not. Baba Hassan led her to the dais, handing her a long-handled fan of peacock feathers. The handle was carved ivory, and the feathers were set in a holder of filigreed gold.

"You will stand here," the eunuch told her, "and slowly fan the dey while the audience is in session. You may stop occasionally to rest, for the day will be hot, but do not allow our master to grow overheated, girl, or I will whip you myself. Do you understand?"

India nodded. Why were they always asking her if she understood or not. She was certainly not feeble-minded. She tilted her head to see if she could hear what Aruj Agha was saying to the dey.

"We will be sailing tomorrow, my lord," the janissary told him.

"The young milord?" Caynan Reis asked.

"Quite shocked to find himself shackled to an oar, my lord, but otherwise unharmed," came the reply.

"See that he remains unharmed. If his manners can be improved, I will consider redeeming him to his family eventually. It seems a shame to lose the ransom." He looked at Tom Southwood. "You look the part," he said dryly. "Are you certain you can fulfill your duties?"

"I can, my lord," the Englishman answered him. "I have taken the name of Osman, in honor of a dear and old friend of my grandmother's who lived in Algiers many, many years ago. He was an astrologer."

Aruj Agha's mouth dropped open. "Osman the Astrologer? The Osman?" He turned to the dey. "My lord, he was very famous, and highly respected." Then he looked at Tom Southwood. "Your grandmother really knew Osman? How?"

"It is a long tale, my lord agha, but I shall happily relate it to you on the long nights we are at sea." Then he said to the dey, "My lord Caynan Reis, may I beg a small boon of you before we depart?"

"What is it, Navigator Osman?" the dey replied.

"My cousin…?" Tom Southwood murmured.

"Still retains her virtue," the dey said dryly. "I am of a mind to be patient with her and so she serves me as my body slave. She is quite unharmed, and will remain so if she continues to behave."

"Thank you, my lord." Tom Southwood bowed, and then remained silent as the agha and the dey discussed the voyage to come. The English captain glanced a final time at India. She nodded her head just imperceptibly at him, indicating that she had heard and was all right. He looked quickly away from her, and just in time, for the agha was ready to leave.

The two men bowed once again to the dey, and then departed the audience hall. The dey settled himself upon his low throne, and nodded to the head eunuch to order the doors opened. India began to wave the fan over him. The dey's secretary, a small, fussy little man appeared, and handed him a long scroll of parchment which was filled with a great deal of writing, none of which she could read. The doorkeepers flung open the doors, and the hall was suddenly filled with a multitude of people, none of whom were, to India's great relief, interested in ogling her carmine-tipped bared nipples.

Caynan Reis handed his secretary the scroll, and said, "Begin."

"The divorced woman, Fatima, and the merchant, Ali Akbar," the dey's secretary said, and when the two stood before the dey, his secretary told them, "First the woman may speak, and then Ali Akbar."

The woman bowed politely. She was neatly but poorly dressed, and far past the flush of her youth. "My lord, I have come to you for justice. Some thirty years ago when I was fourteen, I became Ali Akbar's first wife. I have given him three sons and a daughter. In the ensuing years, Ali Akbar took three more wives, which as you know, my lord, is all the wives allowed under the laws of the prophet. In order to take another woman to wife, Ali Akbar has to discard one of us. I am she he cast aside so he might wed with a thirteen-year-old maid who he hopes will restore his lost virility. I will be honest with you, my lord. I am not unhappy to be free of this man. Whatever love that was between us died years ago. However, Ali Akbar has refused to return to me my bridal portion, which, as you know, my lord, is mine under the laws of the prophet. Without it, I am a beggar at the gates. I have no home. I must beseech strangers for my daily bread. Please help me, my lord. I throw myself upon your gracious mercy."

Caynan Reis looked at Ali Akbar. "Is this true?" he asked.

The merchant squirmed beneath the dark gaze. "My lord," he began nervously, "business has been poor of late, and I have other, more important obligations to meet. Fatima could go and live in her daughter's house, but she prefers to shame me by wandering the streets, and importuning all who will listen with her litany of complaints against me."

"Have you returned your former wife's bridal portion?" the dey demanded sternly.

"No, my lord." The merchant shifted uncomfortably.

"Return it this day." The dey looked to the woman, Fatima. "Do you know how much is owed you, lady?"

"Yes, my lord," she said softly.

"You will tell my secretary," he told her. "And you, Ali Akbar, will not argue the price. The lady appears honest to me. And in punishment for your greed, I order you to purchase a house with a garden for the lady Fatima, and two slaves to serve her. She will be permitted to choose the house and the slaves herself. And you, lady, will cease your public complaints against this man in return."

"My lord, you will ruin me!" the merchant cried, and he shook an angry fist at his former wife.

"And," the dey continued, "you will pay a fine to the sultan's coffers of ten gold pieces, and another ten to the chief mullah of El Sinut in penance for your attempt at flouting the laws of the prophet. While the law allows you to discard one wife for another, it also makes provision to protect such a woman. You broke your word when you refused to honor your betrothal agreement. Any further complaint from your mouth, Ali Akbar, will be met with severe punishment."

The merchant was at last cowed, and bowed to the dey before turning abruptly and leaving the audience chamber.

The woman, Fatima, however, fell to her knees, and kissed the dey's slipper. "Thank you, my lord," she said, tears running down her worn face.

"Do not commit your husband's sin of greed when you seek your own shelter, lady," he warned her. "The sword of justice cuts both ways."

"Yes, my lord," she said, scrambling to her feet and backing away from his presence.

India was absolutely fascinated. For a few moments, she had almost forgotten to ply her fan so the dey would not become overheated. She had thought El Sinut a place where women counted for little, but if she understood it correctly, women were protected under the laws of Islam. Caynan Reis had been kind, firm, and very fair in his handling of the matter of the woman, Fatima, and the merchant, Ali Akbar. The other cases brought before Caynan Reis that day were not half as interesting, but he judged them all with utmost equitableness, it seemed to her.

In midafternoon the dey called a halt to the proceedings and dismissed the remaining people from the audience hall. He had heard almost all of the cases on his secretary's scroll, and would hear the others first the following week. He arose, removing his turban and handing it to India. Then he strode from the chamber. Almost flinging her fan at an attending slave, India hurried after him.

"I am hungry," he told her. "Go to the kitchens and fetch me something to eat, India," he said as they entered his apartment.

"Yes, my lord," she said, putting the small turban upon a table. "Is there anything in particular that you desire?"

"Just food," he told her.

"I can find my way," India told Baba Hassan, and she ran out.

"You will need help," Abu told her in a conciliatory tone when she told him that the dey desired food. "He eats his main meal now in midafternoon, and then naps in the heat of the day. I will send several kitchen slaves with you to carry the food."

"What will you give him?" India asked, curious.

"He is not a heavy eater," Abu said. "I will send a roasted chicken, a bowl of saffroned rice with raisins, a dish of olives, some sliced cucumbers in oil, and bread and fruit." As he spoke, he piled the trays with the items he named, signaling several little kitchen maids to take up the trays and handing India a decanter. "This is a lemon sherbet for the dey to slake his thirst. You may carry it, and the silver goblet."

"The dey does not drink wine?" India asked.

"Wine is forbidden by the prophet, although there are some in Barbary who do not obey the prophet." Abu finished darkly.

India thanked the more cooperative cook, and led her party of serving girls back to the dey's apartment. The sun being high now, however, this meal was taken indoors, and when he had finished eating, he again instructed India to eat from his leftovers when she had stripped him of his garments, sponged him with rose water, and helped him to his couch to rest. This is ridiculous, she thought to herself, but silently followed Caynan Reis's orders. When he lay, apparently dozing, she crept to the table, and, seating herself, began to eat. Abu was not stingy with the food, and she was quickly satisfied. Afterward she carried the trays, one at a time, back to the kitchen. When she returned to the dey's apartments at last, Baba Hassan was awaiting her.

"The dey will sleep until just before sunset, girl," he told her. "You are permitted to rest also now that your duties are completed."

"Where am I to sleep?" she asked him.

The chief eunuch went to a small cupboard, and drew out a narrow mattress he proceeded to unroll. "This will be yours. You are to place it outside of the dey's bedchamber, and sleep there unless he instructs you otherwise. He will call you when he desiresyour service. When he arises, you will find a silk kaftan for him in the cedar cabinet. He has no guests this evening."

She was to sleep on a mat outside Caynan Reis's bedchamber door? It was absolutely ridiculous! But at least she was comfortable, India thought. She was not chained to an oar, seated upon a hard wooden bench on Aruj Agha's galley. Silently India spread the mat Baba Hassan had given her before the dey's bedchamber door and lay down upon it. Soundlessly she wept. This was what her pride had brought her to, and if Adrian died, it would surely be all her fault.

^{Chapter 9}

India awoke hot and headachy. Rising, she rolled up her sleeping mat and tucked it back in its cupboard. Then, going to a carafe upon the table, she poured herself a goblet of water. It was warm, but at least it relieved her thirst, and her head began to ache less. Opening the door to the dey's bedchamber, she saw that he still slept, lying quietly upon his aide, his long form just slightly curved. She left the door open to allow the air to circulate, what breeze there was, and walked out into the garden.

It was a walled enclosure, in the center of which was a round tiled fountain with a bronze flower spray in its middle. India sat upon the wide lip of the fountain, for it was cooler there, and the faint mist of the spray was very refreshing. The small, square tiles were sea blue, interspersed with white, and there were pale yellow water lilies in the fountain. Dipping her hand in the water, she startled a fat goldfish, and laughed softly as it skittered away.

The air about her was perfumed with flowers. There were pink damask roses in bloom, and other flowers she recognized. Hollyhocks in white, cream, yellow, and purple stood tall with their fig-shaped leaves at the back of the beds which were edged with blue campanula. There were scarlet martagon lilies in a half-shaded part of the garden, the four-foot stalks holding between eight and ten pendulous flowers, orange-red in color, with their edges turned up like Turk's caps. In a sunnier area there were yellow Caucasian lilies, sweetly scented and graceful. There were small- to medium-height trees in great blue-and-white porcelain tubs with large trumpet-shaped flowers of pink, red, and yellow, with very prominent yellow stamens with red stigmas that she didn't recognize. Sniffing one, she found they had no fragrance at all, but they were very dramatic and beautiful flowers. There was a greenery with thick leaves she didn't recognize, and cedar trees standing tall and graceful.

She could hear bird song, but could see no birds. There were brightly colored butterflies, and bumblebees wending their way amid the flowers. For a brief moment she could almost imagine she was somewhere else. Anywhere else but El Sinut. She started as his hand fell upon her shoulder.

"Do you find my gardens pleasant, India?" the dey asked her.

She jumped to her feet. "Is it all right that I came into it, my lord? Perhaps I should have asked you first." Her golden eyes were wide with her apprehension.

"You are my body slave, and the gardens are available to you as long as your duties are done, India. You do not have to be afraid of me because you came into the garden. Do you like it?" His hand moved away from her shoulder.

"Aye, it is beautiful, and so peaceful. I almost forgot for a moment where I was, my lord," she said candidly.

He smiled faintly. "Do you play chess?" he asked her.

"Aye, I do," she answered him.

"Then fetch me a fresh kaftan from the dressing cupboard, India, and we will play a game here in the garden. I will get the board and the pieces. Do you play well? None of the harem women play well."

"I play very well," she said, and then, "Must you always walk about naked, my lord?" Her cheeks were pink.

He chuckled. "In this heat it is more comfortable, India, but as I respect your modesty, I have asked for a garment. Were you one of my harem women I should not bother, nor would it matter to them. Does not the holy book say that man was created in God's image?"

"I somehow do not think of God as looking as you do, my lord," India told him pithily, and then went to fetch his kaftan.

Behind her he chuckled again. The wench had spirit, and was by far the most interesting female he had come across in years. He knew his chief eunuch, Baba Hassan, and the lady Azura had hopes that he would find a woman he liked enough to wed and have children by. His harem women were kept infertile by means of a special sherbet made for exactly that purpose, for he had made it very clear from the moment he became dey that he wanted no children who others might use against him in a powerful struggle for El Sinut. It was a volatile world in which he lived, and ruled. There were always plots swirling about. Particularly as the central government in Istanbul had not been as strong in recent years as it had been in the past. Still, he might take a wife eventually, but not have children. India had possibilities. She was English, as he was, although at this point in time he had no intention of telling her that. They communicated quite well in French. And she was a nobleman's daughter as he was a nobleman's son.

If she was a trifle overproud she could be gently tamed. Much of her haughtiness stemmed from her youth and inexperience, and, he had not a doubt, fear. She was vulnerable, and he could easily see how Adrian had convinced her to elope with him. Although he knew she would probably never admit it, probably she had already been having second thoughts in the matter, and was not unhappy her English cousin, the captain, had found them out. It saved her the embarrassment of admitting her error in judgment. She would have gone home protesting, but in her heart she would have been relieved the decision had been taken out of her hands. If her family had disliked him before Adrian and India eloped, they would dislike him far more now that their daughter was a captive in Barbary. He chuckled a third time. Particularly if they learned she had gone from the frying pan directly into the flame.

India came running with his kaftan. It was a comfortable cotton garment striped in deep blue and its own natural color. The sleeves were wide, and the neckline open to his navel. Without a word she flung it over his head, yanking it down so quickly he barely had time to fit his arms through the armholes.

"Does my naked form disturb you so much, India, that you must cover it as fast as you can?" he teased her.

"I am not used to such things," she replied. "You have not the chessboard. Tell me where it is and I shall get it."

"It is in the chest in my day room," he told her, smiling. Yes, she has possibilities. She was already learning to treat him with respect before others, while being a bit more at ease with him in private. She was so beautiful, indeed dazzling, with her creamy skin, her dark curls, and those fascinating golden eyes. He had never in his life seen eyes like India's. She would take time to woo and win, although she would never realize he was wooing her. She would come to him, for only if she did could she be truly happy with her decision in having done so. She would be acknowledging a parting from her former life when that day came, and India was certainly not ready yet to do that.

She brought the board with its carved red-and-white marble pieces, and they set it up on a low table upon the terrace, seating themselves upon large pillows I To his pleasure she played extremely well, almost beating him, and when he said, "Checkmate," she frowned.

"Where did I make my mistake?" she wondered aloud, and it was then he realized that she had indeed been playing to win. It surprised him almost as much as it delighted him. His harem women would have allowed him to win, if indeed they could even play with him. He showed her her error. "I won't do that again," she promised him.

She took the second game, and he the third. The light was now almost gone from the garden, and the night insects were beginning to hum their songs. He had not enjoyed himself so much in years. "Come," he said, rising, and then pulling her to her feet. "Are you hungry? It is my habit to eat only bread and fruit in the evening."

"I will fetch it," she said, and hurried off.

When she returned, he invited her to eat with him in the cool garden. When they had sated themselves with grapes, melon, and warmed flat bread, Baba Hassan appeared.

"I must instruct the girl in preparing your clothing for the morrow, my lord," he said.

"Take her," the dey replied. "I am content with my company."

"Tomorrow," the head eunuch said as he led her off, "the dey must meet with the chief engineer for the city. The great aqueduct that brings fresh water into the town from the mountains is in need of repair. His clothing can be simple." Baba Hassan brought India into a large, enclosed room. About the chamber were silver bars that stretched from one wall to another, and upon the bars were hung hundreds of garments. "These racks," the eunuch said, waving his hand, "are his more elaborate garments. The others have the simpler robes." Bending, he flung open a brass-bound cedar trunk. "You will find his pantaloons, sashes, and shirts in these trunks. The slippers are on the shelves here. The dey's jewelry is kept in a large case in his bedchamber. His taste is simple, you will find."

"How are these things kept clean and fresh?" India asked. "This climate is so warm he must certainly need to change his garments each day, Baba Hassan. Am I expected to do his laundry? Let me warn you I have absolutely no experience in such matters."

The head eunuch chortled. "No, girl, we have laundresses aplenty." He pointed to a large reed basket. "Bring the dey's used garments here each evening when you come to choose the clothing you will put in the cedar cabinet for the following day. This basket is for the discards. A servant will bring them to the laundresses to wash. Now here is the cabinet in which you will place his fresh garments, girl. It opens on two sides, and on the other side you will find the dressing room in the baths. Each evening before you go to bed, choose the proper clothing for the morrow. I will inform you what sort of garments will be needed. Now, let us begin. What would you choose tomorrow for the dey?"

India's careful choices pleased Baba Hassan. The chief engineer of El Sinut, while a valuable civil servant, was not of great importance. "The dey will not need a turban, but where are they kept?" she inquired.

He showed her, and then said, "You are content to serve the dey in this capacity rather than as one of his harem women?"

"I am not content to be here at all," India replied honestly, "but as I am, I prefer being his body servant to being his whore. I only wish it were not necessary for me to be so unclothed."

"Clothing confers status," the eunuch answered her. "You have no status except that which your master gives you, girl."

"What language do you speak here?" India asked him. "I have an ear for languages, as do most of my female relations. I would learn the language of this land. Will you teach me, Baba Hassan?"

Her request surprised him. "We speak the Arabic tongue," he told her. "If the dey gives his permission for you to learn our language, then the lady Azura will teach you. I will inquire tomorrow. For now we will return to the dey's apartments. The final thing I must teach you is how to prepare the love cloths. Our master is a virile man, and requires female companionship every night."

"I know how to prepare love cloths," she said, surprising him once again.

"But you are a virgin," he said, astounded.

"I am," she confirmed, "but my mother was the daughter of the Grande Mughal Akbar. She was raised in India, and when she came to England she brought her servants with her. When I began my monthly flow of blood, Rohana, one of Mama's women, with my mother's permission, taught me how to prepare love cloths. Mama always said that nothing spoiled a man's pleasure more than the unseemly evidence of previous pleasure."

The eunuch nodded. "Your mother was correct, girl, and now I understand why your eyes are almond shaped. Your Mughal blood shows."

They had reached the dey's apartments again, and, leaving her at the door, Baba Hassan said, "Since you know what to do, do it, girl."

India reentered the dey's chambers. In one of the wall cupboards she found a silver ewer. She filled it with water, which she perfumed with rose oil. Next to the basin was a stack of neatly folded linen cloths. Taking a dozen, she brought them with the basin into the dey's bedchamber and set them by the bed. Going back out into the garden, she found Caynan Reis observing the moon. "I have, I believe, completed my duties for the day, my lord. Is there anything I can do for you before I retire to my pallet?"

"Go to the harem, and bring back the woman, Nila," he told her. "She is a blonde, actually the fairest hair of them all; and most voluptuous of form. I wish her company tonight." He looked directly at India, his dark eyes unfathomable.

"I am to fetch your whores for you?" India was outraged.

"You have the choice of fetching them to me, or taking their place," he said coldly. "And do not call them whores, India. They are perfectly respectable harem women, and honored within my house. Do not pass judgment upon that which you do ndt understand. This is not your England. It is El Sinut. When you have brought Nila to me, you may spread your pallet outside my bedchamber door in case I have need of you in the night. You will not hear me if you are further away."

Turning on her heel, India ran from the room. This was the final humiliation, she thought. First she was forced to walk about half naked all day, the nipples on her breasts painted carmine to draw attention to them, except no one was supposed to look. She had waited on this arrogant dey hand and foot. Bathed him! Fetched his food! Laid out his clothing! Dressed him! And now she was expected to bring his whores to him? It was intolerable, but if she didn't do it, who knew what he would do to her. He was such a complex man. Kind and fair to those whom he judged, yet thoughtless and cruel when he sent poor Adrian to the galleys. She didn't understand this man, but she had quickly learned that he would brook no disobedience.

Finding her way to the harem, she entered, looking about at the women there. They ignored her, for she was not as important as they were, being only the dey's body slave. There were seven women from whom she might choose, and four of them were blond and voluptuous. Then Azura was at her side, murmuring softly, "Which one does he desire?"

"Nila," India answered in a low voice.

"She is the one with the breasts like two soft pillows," Azura told India. "The blonde with the longest hair is Mirmah. Laylu wears her hair always in a thick plait, and the last blonde is Deva. The redhead is Sarai. The tall brunette is Samara. The petite brunette is Leah. Have you enjoyed your day?"

India laughed. "It has been interesting and informative," she told the mistress of the harem.

"Come and see me when you have the time," Azura said. "Now go and fetch the chosen one."

India walked across the main chamber of the harem, stopping before Nila. "The dey desires your presence. You are to follow me," she said in neutral tones. Then she turned, and departed the harem, assuming Nila would follow. The dey's concubine scrambled to her feet and, with a smug look at her companions, hurried after India.

"Do not walk so quickly," Nila complained. "My legs are not as long and gawky as yours are. I am delicate and fine-boned."

India said nothing, but she did slightly increase her speed. Delicate and fine-boned? The girl was a peasant!

"I shall tell the dey of your rudeness," Nila cried.

India stopped, and turned about. "And I shall tell him I overheard you disparaging his manhood when I entered the harem," she told the lush blonde. "Naturally, I was shocked. What did she mean you have the prick of a worm, my lord?"

"You would not dare!" Nila's blue eyes were wide with fear.

"Do not find yourself on my bad side, Nila," India warned her, and then she continued on her way, leading the blonde into the dey's apartments. "I'm certain you know the way from here," she said sweetly.

Nila almost ran past the English girl, and India overheard her trilling as she entered Caynan Reis's bedchamber, "Ohhh, my lord, I have come as quickly as I could!"

"India! Fetch a carafe of sherbet," she heard the dey call. "Why is there none already here? Hurry!"

She slammed from the apartment, and ran through the cool halls to the kitchen. It was empty, but there upon a silver tray was a carafe of fruit sherbet and two small goblets. Picking them up, India hurried back, and slowly entered the bedchamber. The dey and his companion were both naked now. Nila sat between her master's spread legs, and, as he fondled one of her large breasts, she slowly and sensuously sucked the fingers of his other hand, her eyes half closed, her face a mask of open desire. India stopped, not certain where to put the tray.

Nila finished drawing upon the dey's fingers, taking his hand and bringing it down to her Venus mound. The fingers seemed to have a life of their own, stroking her as she began to squirm beneath his attentions. The dey's eyes met India's. He could see the confusion and the surprise upon her beautiful face. She tried to look away, but could not do so, and she flushed with her shame.

"Put the tray by the bed, and then find your pallet," he finally said, taking pity on her.

The hard voice seemed to rouse her from her stupor, and she tripped over her own feet to do his bidding, almost running from the bedchamber to escape the disturbing, yet exciting scene she had just witnessed. Her heart was hammering wildly. Her legs felt weak. Pulling her pallet from the cupboard, she saw a neck roll, and drew it forth, too. She spread her bedding before the dey's bedchamber door, and lay down, but when she closed her eyes, she saw again the dey with his paramour. Her eyes flew open. Why was she so disturbed? she wondered. The dey was not hurting Nila, and, indeed, she was encouraging his attentions. Surely there was nothing wrong if the dey and Nila were content. She closed her eyes again, and dozed, only to be awakened by the sound of a woman moaning deeply. India crept closer to the door, and put her ear against it.

"Ohhhhh! Ohhhhhhh! Ohhhhhh, my lord, do not stop! I am in Paradise! Oh! Oh! Yessssss!" Nila's voice cried.

India's eyes were wide with shock, and then she heard the dey groaning, but the sound was one of pleasure.

"I'm not going to stop, you insatiable little bitch," he said. "I'm going to keep on until you are finally satisfied!"

"Ohhhhh! Ohhhhhh! Yes! Yes! Yes!" Nila half sobbed.

India curled herself into a ball, her hands over her ears. She might be a virgin, but the audible sounds of lovemaking were obvious. For some reason it disturbed her greatly, and the earlier image of the dey and Nila caressing entered her mind again. Oh, God, what is happening to me? she wondered. She tried to picture Adrian Leigh with her in such a manner, but she could not. To her deep distress she found herself taking Nila's place in her mind's eye. It was too horrible to even contemplate. She did not know this man. How could she imagine such intimacy with a man she didn't really know? It was wanton.

The days that followed took on a familiar pattern that mirrored the first day she had begun her service to Caynan Reis, and yet each day was different in its way. She particularly enjoyed the mornings when he would hold public audiences, or when officials or visitors would come to speak with the dey. Only the Europeans and the Jews, seeking the dey's favor, found it difficult not to stare at her naked breasts with their bright red nipples. Oddly, she began to find humor in the situation. The afternoons were hot and long, and very dull. The dey gave permission for Azura to teach India Arabic. It was very difficult having a different alphabet she needed to learn, but it was a challenge, and India always enjoyed a challenge. One afternoon several months after she had come to El Sinut, they finished their lessons, and Azura ordered a cooling sherbet brought with a plate of honey cakes.

"You are doing very well," she praised India. "It took Caynan Reis much longer to master what you have mastered in just these past four months. You have a knack for languages, my child."

"Who is he, Azura? Caynan Reis, I mean. How did a foreigner rise so high in the sultan's service?"

"He was a captive, very much like your own cousin, who now sails with Aruj Agha. He spent almost two years in the galleys, and then one day while his ship was anchored in the harbor, my lord, Sharif el Mohammed, was rowed out to it to see its captain on some small matter of business between them. Caynan had, by that time, proved his worth to the vessel's captain and was no longer chained to an oar. Instead, he served the captain as his steward. Their business over, Sharif el Mohammed left the ship, but as he was getting into his own barge, he fell into the sea. He could not swim, and indeed he was weighed down by his garments. Caynan leapt over the side into the water, and saved the dey, Sharif el Mohammed.

"In gratitude, my own dear lord Sharif freed Caynan and invited him into his service. They became fast friends, and as my lord Sharif began to sicken, Caynan Reis took over more and more of his responsibilities. My lord wrote to Istanbul telling the sultan that he was dying and asking that Caynan Reis succeed him. The sultan agreed. My lord died shortly thereafter, but he was content knowing El Sinut was in safe hands." There were tears in Azura's bright blue eyes.

India reached out instinctively to comfort the woman. "Do not weep, my lady," she said.

Azura laughed weakly. "It has been a long time since the mention of Sharif el Mohammed's name could render me weepy," she said. "He asked Caynan Reis to allow me to remain in the only home I had known since my capture. Caynan Reis is like a son to me. He has been gracious and very kind. Tell me, my child. Are you learning to like him?"

India nodded. "Aye, but not all the time. Sometimes he can be cruel, my lady, although I think he does not mean it."

"You are wise to see that," Azura said. "I do not know what happened to him in his homeland that caused him to leave it, but it hardened his heart, I fear. It will take a very special woman to melt the ice that encases his soul. Perhaps you are that woman. You cannot spend the rest of your days as his body slave. There is so much more you can have, if you will but ask, my child."

"I do not know if I am ready yet, my lady," India admitted.

"Surely you do not think you can be returned to your own land, India? Trust me, my child, it will not happen. Your life is here now."

She thought about Azura's words as she lay tossing upon her pallet that night, attempting to block the cries of the dey's companion from her consciousness. Why did these women all howl so each night when he made love to them, and why did he call out as well? It was a mystery, and not one she was likely to solve unless she would yield herself to Caynan Reis. Could she? Was Azura correct? Would she never return to England again? And what if the harem mistress was right? Did she want to live like this forever?

She knew his body well enough, India thought, and the sight of it no longer troubled her, or frightened her. She knew her own body equally as well now. The trouble was, she wasn't quite certain what they were supposed to do with their bodies once they were past the caressing and the kissing she had seen between the dey and his women. She remembered once asking her mother about what transpired between a man and a woman. Jasmine had grown thoughtful, and then she had told her eldest daughter that all would be revealed before she married, but it wasn't really seemly that India have such knowledge before then. It might encourage her to experiment, and girls should not experiment with passion before marriage. It was not wise, or safe. And besides, here Jasmine had laughed, it was better that a man believed he was fully in charge of lovemaking, at least at first. But if his bride knew everything, then it would spoil it for him.

India wondered if Azura would enlighten her, and believed she would. She would ask her tomorrow. Azura, she knew, would be very pleased that India was finally showing an interest in the carnal side of her nature.

"Ahhhhh, my lord, it is too sweet!" came the cry from the dey's bedchamber.

"Oh, be silent, you silly creature!" India muttered to herself. Ivow, she thought silently, that I shall never carry on like those silly women do each night. I think they do it just to please him, and for no other reason. Nothing could be that wonderful. Or could it? And would she be daring enough to soon find out? What if he decided he was no longer interested in her? India wondered nervously. No. Of late she had caught him sending glances her way when he thought she wasn't looking, and when she caught him at it, he had smiled knowingly. Did he suspect her interest? God's boots! How embarrassing!

She finally fell asleep, awakening just at dawn as she had accustomed herself to do. Rising, she stored her pallet and neck roll in the cupboard. Then, opening the dey's bedchamber door, she crept silently into the room, going to the bed and poking at the naked girl curled up next to Caynan Reis. "Samara," she whispered to the long-legged brunette. "Samara, it is time to get up. Go back to the harem."

"Ummmm," Samara murmured sleepily, turning onto her back and opening her eyes. "If I remain, perhaps he will want me again."

India pulled the girl by her arm. "Get up!" she snapped. "You know Baba Hassan's rule, and if you do not go back to the harem this minute, I shall go and fetch him! You will be punished."

Samara scrambled to her feet. She was every bit as tall as India. "You are just jealous because the dey does not find you desirable," she said meanly. "You are the lowest of the low. A body slave."

India pushed the naked girl from the room, shoving her kaftan into her hands. "You are mistaken, you overblown Damascus rose. It is I who do not find the dey desirable. I think it will be a long time until you enter his bed again, Samara." She smiled sweetly. "You see, I have my master's complete trust now, and it is I who choose his nightly companion. I do not think I will choose you for a long time."

Samara's lush mouth fell open in shock. "You lie!" she said disbelievingly. "You lie!"

India laughed. "Go back to the harem and await your master's next invitation. You will be old and fat before it comes." She thrust Samara out into the corridor and pulled the doors shut on her. "Nasty cow," she muttered to herself. "I'd sleep with him myself before I'd let you go back into his bed again!"

"Would you, India?" The dey stood in his bedchamber door.

"Would I what, my lord?" she asked innocently.

He laughed. "You have a wicked tongue, India, and you bully my women shamelessly. Are you jealous of them?"

"My lord, I may now find myself your slave, but I am a duke's daughter. Your women are of a lower class, and if I did not keep them in line, they would be impossible to tolerate." She pointedly ignored his question. "Come, now, my lord dey, it is time for your bath."

"Yes, my lady," he teased, following her into the baths.

She scrubbed him with great vigor until he finally protested. "Do not be such a bairn," she told him. "Go and soak in the bathing pool."

He stood in the warm, perfumed water up to his neck, watching her as she performed her own ablutions. He had not approached her since that first morning when she had been learning her duties. Now he considered he might attempt her again, and see her reaction. He watched her through half-closed eyes as she rinsed herself with several basins of water, finally putting the silver ewer upon its shelf. Then she stepped down into the pool, positioning herself opposite him as she always did.

"You have no visitors today, my lord," she said.

"I must go over the engineer's plans for the aqueduct repairs," he told her. I wonder if I should not simply have a new aqueduct built for the town rather than repair the old one, which dates to Roman times."

"Why not repair the old one just enough to continue its use while you are having a new aqueduct built, my lord?" India suggested. "That way El Sinut is guaranteed a continuous supply of fresh water. If the original aqueduct is as old as you say, it could give out at any time. Losing it would be a disaster for the city."

"Some would say it has stood this long. Why go to the expense of building a new one?" he told her.

"In the matter of people's welfare, my lord, no government should be penny wise and pound foolish," India replied. "Is not your treasury full? If it is the government's gold, why hoard it? For what other purpose have you collected taxes and tribute if not to make your people's lives comfortable and safe. From what you have told me these past few months, and from what I have overheard, the valide does not want any kind of strife to unsettle her young son's reign. She would have his life peaceful until he comes of age to rule by himself. If El Sinut lost its water supply, the people would turn against the government, and what could Istanbul do to help being so far away? Their solution would be to send troops to put down the revolt. Then they would leave, and the problem would still remain. It is better that you attend to the matter of the aqueduct, my lord dey, and avoid any civil discord," India concluded.

"Your advice is sound," he replied, thinking as he spoke that her intellect was far above that of any woman he had ever known. She had obviously been thinking about the problem for some time now, and she had reasoned well the arguments for and against her conclusions.

She gave him a genuine smile. "Come, my lord dey," she said as she moved up the steps from the pool. "You cannot remain here all day." She held out a large towel for him. "The masseuse awaits you." She wrapped him in a towel, and began to dry him.

Caynan Reis chuckled to himself. He had wanted to attempt a seduction this morning, but she had so fascinated him with her speech regarding the aqueduct, that he had completely forgotten. She must come to you, the voice in his head told him.

He had his massage. She dressed him and brought him his morning meal. Then he closeted himself in his library, giving her his permission to do as she chose until it was time for his main meal. The day was overwarm for winter. As he went over the plans brought to him by the city's chief engineer, he could see the wisdom in her words. He sent for the author of the plans and brought up the possibility of building a new aqueduct to replace the old.

"It would be the better strategy, my lord," the engineer told him. "We could indeed do minor repairs on the old system that would hold for several years. A new aqueduct would take us three years to build. You see, we cannot be certain of the damage and wear to the interior of the aqueduct, but a new one would assure us of a supply of fresh water for the next several centuries, my lord."

"The cost?" The dey demanded.

"Not a great deal more than to do serious repairs on the old aqueduct, my lord, which might need more repairs in the future."

"Then we will build a new aqueduct," the dey decided, handing the plans back to the chief engineer. "Start immediately."

Returning to his apartments, the dey found his midday meal already set out for him. His head ached, and the air was unusually heavy for July. Still, his appetite was not affected. When he had finished, he arose, saying to her, "I think it will rain."

"Shall I prepare you for your nap, my lord?" she asked softly.

He nodded. Allah! His desire for her was suddenly eating at him. She removed his garments and sponged him with rose water. He said nothing, but his dark-blue eyes searched her face for some sign that she was weakening toward him. India carefully kept her eyes averted from his. If she looked at him, she would be lost, she feared. She didn't understand the emotions now swirling about inside her.

"Are you well, my lord?" she asked him, seeing his agitation.

"My head aches, India," he told her.

"Sit down, my lord, and let me rub it for you," she suggested.

"Nay," he said, thinking if she touched him again he would explode. "I will rest and it will ease itself," he told her. "Go, and have your lesson with Azura."

"No," India said. "Azura says I have advanced far more than any of her other students in so short a time. I will remain here, my lord, so that if you need me, I may serve you."

"Come and lie with me," he said softly.

She shook her head in the negative.

"Just lie by my side, India. I promise you that nothing will transpire between us. Your presence would comfort me," Caynan Reis said.

"I have not eaten," India said softly, "and I must then return the trays to the kitchen or poor old Abu will be most distressed, my lord."

"When you have finished," he said, "then come to me.".

"Are you commanding me, my lord?" India asked him.

"Nay," he replied, and closed his eyes.

India slipped from the bedchamber and ate her meal. Then she carried the trays back to Abu. Returning to the dey's apartments, she warred with herself for several long minutes, and then, entering his bedchamber, she lay down by his side. He did not move, and she was not certain if he was asleep or awake. It had begun to rain, and the sound of the droplets hitting the gravel path and the flora out in the garden was very soothing. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she was soon sleeping.

Caynan Reis took a deep breath, and put an arm about the slumbering girl. She gave a small sigh and curled herself against him. He could scarcely contain himself. She had come to him of her own accord. He let his eyes scan her face. She was dazzlingly beautiful, and she was almost his. He longed to kiss those full, lush lips of hers. To taste the innocent sweetness of her. He balled his hands into fists to prevent himself from touching her further and frightening her away. He knew that other men would consider his attitude toward India ridiculous. If a woman belonged to a man, and he desired her body, she gave it… or he took it. Yet, from the beginning, he had not been able to force her. Suddenly he realized that he wanted India to want him for himself, and not because he was the dey of El Sinut.

The women in his harem were lovely, and most amenable, but India was correct when she said that they feared him. They did. In their world he held the power of life and death over them. They sought to please him because everything they were, or possessed, was because of Caynan Reis, the dey of El Sinut. While he believed he had tamed India's proud manner a trifle, he had not broken her spirit. She spoke her mind to him, and did not mouth inanities at him. He realized now that he needed more than just willing bodies to pleasure him. He needed a woman who would be his companion, his lover, and who would tell him the truth. He needed India. It was as simple as that, but now he had to convince her of it. He couldn't be certain if it would be easy or difficult.

Of late he had seen her looking at him with a questioning look in her marvelous eyes. What was she thinking? Could she ever really love him given the way in which she had come to him? Had they been in England instead of El Sinut, would she have even considered him as a husband? She was seventeen, which was old for a virgin, and she had not chosen a husband, nor had her family chosen one for her. He wondered why. One day he would ask her, he thought.

His head was still aching, though less so when he finally fell into a deep sleep, but when he awoke, his mind was clear. The rain had stopped, and India was gone from his side. Had it all been a dream?

"India!" He called out to her.

"Yes, my lord?" She stood in the open bedchamber door.

"My headache has left me," he said, feeling foolish. He had been like a child for a moment, fearful that she was gone from him.

"I am glad, my lord," she answered him.

He arose, and she slipped a kaftan over him. "Who shall I choose to share my bed tonight, India?" he asked her. "Who shall I choose?"

For a very long moment she was silent, and she pierced him with a look the meaning of which he could not fathom. Then she said in a low voice, "It is not seemly, my lord, that I choose for you. I know you heard my foolish boast this morning to Samara, but it was only to keep the absurd creature in her place."

"Who shall I choose, India?" He repeated the question. He stood directly before her, his hands now resting lightly on her shoulders.

I am losing my reason, she thought. I cannot!

"India?"

"Choose me, my lord," she finally said. "Choose me."

^{Chapter 10}

He was not entirely certain that he had heard her aright. Reaching out, he cupped her face between his two hands and looked directly into those marvelous eyes of hers. "India?"

"Choose me, my lord," she repeated once again in a soft voice.

"You are certain?" His heart was hammering, and he felt almost weak in his longing for her. This was not simply desire he realized in a blinding burst of cognition. This was love!

"I am certain," she replied. "But, oh, my lord! Please be patient with me. You know I am neither incompetent nor witless, but I know very little about passion." Her cheeks flushed with her words.

Caynan Reis bent his dark head, and touched her lips with his. It was a slow kiss, delicate and filled with promise.

When he finally removed his lips from hers, India's hand went instinctively to her mouth, her fingers touching the flesh wonder-ingly. She hadn't known quite what to expect but certainly not this tenderness. There was something far more to the kiss than she understood, and, seeing the confusion in her eyes, he knew for an absolute certainty her innocence.

"I will teach you passion, India," he told her, his hands leaving her face, his strong arms enfolding her in a warm embrace.

Her cheek lay against his chest. She could feel the beating of his heart beneath the fabric of his kaftan. She trembled, and then angry with herself for what she felt was an unpardonable show of weakness, pulled away from him.

Gently he drew her back, enfolding her once more. His hand sleeked down her dark curls soothingly. "Passion is always confusing in the beginning. Afterward it is merely surprising," he told her.

"I feel foolish," she admitted.

"Do not, my thorny little virgin," he teased her lovingly. "I have never had a virgin in my bed, and I find the prospect an unusual aphrodisiac."

"What should I do?" India asked him.

"Another night I will begin to teach you the things that please me, and Azura will instruct you as well, my precious. Tonight, however, I would simply initiate you into the delights of love."

"Oh."

He felt her stiffen, and, realizing how nervous she must be, he said to her, "Now, India, go and fetch our evening meal. My headache is gone, and I find I am hungry."

She slipped from his arms, and hurried from the room relieved. It wasn't that she wanted to take back her acquiescence. She didn't. But her mood was lightened by the realization that he would not rush her along passion's path. What would II be like? she wondered. Would she, too, call out like those silly harem women? She was curious to learn what would make a woman cry with such obvious pleasure. His kiss had been quite wonderful. Much better than Adrian's kisses, and for a moment she felt guilty, but the feeling quickly passed.

She could see now that Adrian had been an utter fool. The dey was not a cruel man, but he absolutely insisted upon being respected, as was his right. If Adrian had behaved better, he probably would have been ransomed by now, and her family would have known where she was. She knew that her parents would have moved heaven and earth to regain her person, but Adrian had not been wise, and while he might eventually escape his captivity, she would never escape hers.

Was that why she was finally assenting to Caynan Reis's desire? To save herself? To make a place for herself in this new world? Or was she intrigued by this man who could be so kind and also so cruel? She wondered if another man would have been so patient as he had been. And what would have happened if she had never decided to yield to him? Reaching the kitchen, she found the evening tray with its decanter of fruit sherbet, the bowl of ripe fruits, and a blue-and-white plate of flat, warm bread. Picking it up, she returned to the dey's apartments.

"I have set up the chessboard," he told her as she set the tray in its accustomed place and then prepared the basin with its love cloths.

She took her place opposite him, and their game began. She had learned much from him about chess, and while India had always been a good opponent, she had become an even better one over the last few months. Tonight, however, she was distracted, and finally, after her third loss in a row, he called a halt to their play.

Reaching out, he took her hand, and raising it to his lips, kissed the fingertips lightly. Unable to help herself, she pressed her fingers along his mouth again. He kissed them again, parting his lips just slightly to suck upon those slender digits. Startled, she pulled her hand away. Then, stretching his arm out, he touched her lips with his own hand. "Do what I did, India," he instructed her softly.

Shyly she took his fingers into her mouth, drawing upon them, timidly at first, and then, unable to help herself, sucking more strongly. Surprised, her eyes widened even as she felt her heart begin to race. Her cheeks felt suddenly hot. There was something so sensual… so primitive in what she was doing, and while she forced herself to do so, she didn't really want to stop. She looked at him questioningly as she released his fingers.

The dey caressed her face gently, his knuckles grazing the cheekbone. "Are you hungry?" he asked her.

India nodded nervously, although she really wasn't, but anything to take her mind from the outrageously erotic thoughts now assailing her. She struggled to her feet even as he stood up. Together they moved to the table where the food was laid out. India poured the dey a small silver goblet of sherbet, handing it to him. It was his custom to help himself to the bread and the fruit. Seated opposite each other, they ate in silence for a time. He plucked a small bunch of pale-green grapes from the bowl, and began to pull the individual fruits from their stems with his teeth, slowly, one by one. His eyes met hers. She watched, fascinated, until the action of his strong white teeth and his swirling tongue that snaked out to catch the juice from the grapes made her giddy.

When he had finished, he took a slice of pomegranate, spooned the seeds from it, and, cutting it into pieces, began to feed it to her. She ate several chunks of the tart-sweet fruit, licking the juice from his hand in an action that surprised her. How bold she was becoming, India thought to herself, and blushed at the small smile that briefly touched the corners of his mouth. Could he read her wicked thoughts? She hoped he could not.

Caynan Reis took one of the damp towels that always accompanied his evening meal, and, leaning over, wiped her hands and face before cleaning himself. Then, sitting back in his chair, he said quietly to her, "Disrobe for me, India."

She did not argue. Nudity between them was natural to her now. Standing, India loosened the ties on her pantaloons, and they fell to the floor. Picking the garment up, she laid it across the chair.

"Come here to me now," he said, and when she had moved to stand before him, he took the damp towel and removed the carmine stain from her nipples. "I prefer you as Allah created you," he told her. Rising, he pulled off his kaftan, laying it next to her garment. Then, reaching out, he drew her into the circle of his embrace so that their bodies just touched. "You have no idea, my precious, how much I desire you," he said quietly, "but it is important to me that you are not fearful, India, of what will transpire between us this night. Do you understand?"

She nodded mutely, unable to meet his gaze. It was ridiculous that she felt so suddenly shy, but she did.

"I will not hurt you," he promised her, "and if you become afraid, you will tell me. There is no shame in a virgin being suddenly reluctant, or apprehensive, India. Lovemaking is a joyous pastime, and I would have you gain pleasure from our endeavors."

She nodded again, aware all of a sudden that he was gently stroking her, his big hand smoothing down her back with a delicate touch. She looked up at him questioningly, and without another word, his mouth covered hers, his lips easing her nervousness, proffering a sweetness such as she had never known. To her surprise she found herself kissing him back, offering herself to him as she certainly never had to Adrian Leigh, and realizing even as she did that she did so willingly. I want him, she thought, and I don V even really know what it is I want of him.

He took her face between his hands, raining kisses upon it until she truly believed that there wasn't an inch of skin he had missed. "You are so beautiful," he murmured against her lips, alighting upon them again as a bee returning to a flower. He nibbled upon them teasingly, then pressed passionately against her mouth, gently but firmly and wordlessly cajoling her to part her lips. When she did so, he ran the tip of his tongue along the moist flesh, then unexpectedly thrust into her mouth to touch her tongue with his.

India gasped, totally surprised by his action. She wanted to draw back, but the writhing tongue encircling hers was frankly the most sensual feeling she had ever experienced. Hesitantly at first, then more boldly, she fenced with his tongue, feeling her body begin to entertain a strange and sultry heat that, while unfamiliar, was, she decided, in the overall most pleasant. She slipped her arms about his neck, drawing him closer until their bodies were pressed tightly against each other.

For a moment his breath caught in his throat as he felt her breasts pushing against him. She had absolutely no idea the havoc she was wreaking. Had she been any other woman, he would have thrown her to the floor and taken her then and there. Instead, he slowly ended the kiss, loosening her embrace, his hands going to her waist to turn her about so he might reach about, taking her breasts in his two hands. They nestled like two white doves within his cupped palms. He brushed his thumbs lightly across her nipples, smiling to himself as the delicate flesh puckered with her arousal.

India closed her eyes as he fondled her. She sighed, and leaned her head back against his shoulder. She had never felt so cared for in her entire life. She was at ease with this man as she had never been at ease with Adrian Leigh. How could this be? She had loved Adrian. Loved? Aye, it was past, she realized, and as she did, she knew that her father had been right. It had just been an infatuation that she had, in her inexperience, stubbornly insisted was more. But it hadn't been more. Yet what was this that she felt for Caynan Reis? And did she feel anything other than curiosity or budding lust? If she didn't feel some emotion toward him, then how could she allow him the liberties he was now taking? And she had indeed allowed him. He had not taken advantage of her. Oh, she could not hide behind that old excuse of wanton maidens!

"What is it, India?" His voice sounded softly in her ear, and he then nibbled upon her lobe. "You are distressed. I sense it." His big hands continued to caress her breasts.

"I wonder what sort of creature I am that I enjoy your attentions," she said candidly. "I have been taught that the license I now grant you is an intimacy allowed only between husband and wife, yet I permit you to kiss and touch me in a familiar manner… and I feel no guilt. How can that be, unless the high moral character that I have always attributed to myself does not exist and I am little better than a lewd trollop offering her favors in the High Gate."

His hands fell away from her breasts, and, taking her by the shoulders, he turned her about. "Look at me," he said sternly, and, when she raised her eyes to his, he continued. "This is not your England, India. Your parents have raised you well that you hold such a high moral standard up for yourself, but even in England, such standards are not ordinary despite what king and church may proclaim. You must know that, India. Here we do not count it a sin that a man desires a woman. That is why we are allowed up to four wives at one time, and many concubines to please us." He touched her cheek tenderly. "Did it ever occur to you, India, that perhaps you are beginning to care for me, and this is why you feel no shame at our behavior?" His mouth brushed over hers lightly, and his deep blue eyes questioned her gently.

India blushed, and a tremor ran through her slender frame. "I… I… Oh! I hate this feeling of confusion!" she suddenly cried.

"I told you nothing would be between us unless you wanted it as much as I do," he reminded her, praying silently that she would not elude his passions once again. He was struggling to remain patient.

"But I do want… I do!" India said softly, and then she hid her head against his chest Why in God's name was she behaving like such a complete ninny? What was the matter with her? Did she care for him?

Allah! he thought. Were all virgins like this? Damn the little witch! She had given her consent, and he would wait no longer. Without a word he swept her up into his arms, gaining his bed, his arms still tightly about her as he collapsed against the pillows.

"Oh!" Her eyes were suddenly wide, and she knew instinctively that there was now no going back. As he slipped her from the comfort of his embrace upon the boldly striped mattress, his look was a look of undisguised passion that even she could recognize, and India thought suddenly of her mother. Had not Jasmine willingly shared herself with Prince Henry Stuart? A liaison that had resulted in her half-brother, Charles Frederick Stuart? And that had been in England!

"What are you thinking?" he demanded.

"That your gaze burns me, my lord," she dissembled.

He laughed, and once more kissed her mouth lightly. "If you but knew my thoughts, little virgin, you would burst into flame," he told her. "I cannot ever remember desiring a woman as I desire you, my precious India." He caressed her face with the back of his hand.

"I am not yet a woman, my lord," she half whispered back.

"We will shortly remedy that," he told her, his kisses becoming more ardent as they moved over her face and down the graceful column of her throat, across her chest, and finally to her breasts.

His lips were warm, and seemed to burn her delicate skin wherever they touched. She was acutely aware of everything, her senses suddenly sharpened to every nuance of his passion, even of her own body. Her breasts seemed to be swollen. They almost hurt, and when his mouth closed over a nipple and suckled upon it, a small cry escaped her. "Ahhh, God!" She felt his tongue swirling about the nipple teasingly, and then his teeth gently, very gently, nipped at the sensitive tip. "Ohhhh!" His tongue swiftly laved over the nipple, soothing it, but he hadn't really hurt her at all. When he lifted his dark head, she eagerly guided it to her other nipple so it, too, might know such pleasure.

Then she felt his other hand caressing her belly, moving in teasing little circles over the silky skin. She ached with both pleasure and anticipation for whatever was to come. The hand slipped lower to cover her Venus mound, and India felt her breath catch in her throat. Brushing his fingers over the smooth mound, he ran a single digit down the moist crease separating the fleshy folds. She couldn't breathe, and then the finger pressed itself between the tempting furrow, touching her in a place she hadn't even known existed. India gasped sharply, and the finger began to caress that place. Reaching out, she dug her fingers into his shoulder.

"This is your pleasure place," he murmured, his finger rotating itself about the sensitive nub of flesh. "You can feel it, my precious, can't you? The joy is beginning to stir within you, isn't it?"

"Yes!" Dear heaven, this was sweet. She would die with delight, she thought, pressing herself up to meet his hand. She felt as if she were going to burst there, and then indeed she did, the pleasure permeated her entire body like slow, warm wine, oozing through her veins until the delight was as suddenly gone as it had come. "No!" she protested.

"There is more," he promised her. "This is just the beginning." Then his finger pushed deeper, finding her passage, exploring her gently. He didn't doubt her maiden state, but he could barely contain his delight at finding her virgin shield fully intact. She was very tight, but already wet, her young body eager for the consummation. He knew he could wait no longer to enjoy her. Withdrawing his hand from her Venus mound, he began to cover her fair body with his, kissing her deeply as he did, his hands lightly pinioning her.

She was completely cognizant of his actions, of the hard length that had been pressing against her, and was even now seeking to possess her. She trembled openly as he tenderly spread her open to his attentions, and he kissed her again. The look on his face was one she could not fathom. There was no lust, only gentleness. "My lord?" she whispered, confused, her eyes seeking an answer.

The deep blue eyes looked down at her. "Little fool," he murmured to her. "Have you not yet realized that I love you?" Then without another word he thrust deep inside her, piercing her innocence.

His declaration astounded her even as the sharpness of her defloration briefly pained her. Then, after a moment, he began to move upon her, and India cried out softly at the pleasure she was receiving. She could feel his length, and the breadth of him as he plumbed the secret depths of her. She welcomed him, shyly at first, then more boldly, her arms wrapping about him into an even closer embrace.

"Put your legs about me." He ground the words out into her ear.

She obeyed the command, and then cried out as he plunged deeper into her softness. She had never imagined it would be like this. So wonderful! So intimate! So indescribable! She clung to him, her breath coming in hard bursts as he thrust to and fro within her body. Her nails began to claw at him. She couldn't help it. There was a tension building and building within her that needed release. "Ohhhhh, God!" she wailed. "I can bear no more! Ohhh, God, don't stop!" Then it was as if she was almost yanked from her body and flung among the stars. She soared, shuddering, as spasm after spasm wracked her, sending waves of heat and sensation slamming into her, leaving her gasping for breath.

He felt the walls of her sheath contracting and convulsing around his throbbing manhood, and Caynan Reis was astounded. India had been a virgin, and yet her passions were even now bursting, and forcing from him a torrid tribute. With a groan of complete surrender, his love juices filled her, engulfing her secret garden. I want sons from this woman was his last conscious thought, and then he rolled away from her lest he crush her, though his arms were still tight about her.

He came to himself at the sound of her soft weeping. "India, what is it? Allah forgive me if I have hurt you! Tell me, my precious." He leaned over her, kissing the tears upon her cheeks.

"I am so happy," she sobbed. "Will it always be like this between us? Will you continue to desire me, or have I lost my allure now that I am no longer a virgin?" She looked up at him, so vulnerable that it almost broke his heart.

"I love you," he told her once again. "Did you think I but said the words to ease your conscience, India, before I took you? I never thought that I should love a woman, but I love you. I will always desire you, little fool. AIways! I shall make you my wife as quickly as I can do so. You will be the dey's first wife."

"First wife?" She sat up now.

"I am allowed four," he teased her.

"And will you take four?" she demanded, her look angry.

"I think you will be more than enough wife for me, my precious," he laughed. "Allah, I am beginning to desire you again! I would not believe it possible, but I am!"

"Andyour harem, my lord?" she persisted.

"The dey of El Sinut would be made to look a fool, ruled by his wife, if he did not maintain a harem," he told her. "That is not a matter for us to discuss, India. Now, kiss me sweetly on the lips."

"Will you make love to your harem women?"

He pulled her down beneath him and kissed her hard. "It would seem I will have to, having such a disobedient favorite," he said to her, half laughing. "Am I to deny myself the company of women when you ripen with my children or your link with the moon is broken?"

"Are you so lustful then?" she asked him.

"Aye," he grinned mischievously at her, "I am. Now, fetch the love cloths, for my hunger for you grows as each minute passes."

She pouted, but then slipped from their bed to fetch the basin, and the soft cotton cloths. First, however, she washed herself, startled a moment by the blood smeared upon her thighs, realizing it was the proof of her lost virtue. Then she brought the basin, with its fresh water, and clean cloths to him.

"It is your duty to bathe my member," he told her wickedly.

India eyed his manhood suspiciously. She had, of course, washed him in the baths, but now… now it looked somewhat more lethal to her. Soaking the cloth, she wrung it out, and gingerly began her task. When she had finished, and removed the basin and cloths, he called her back to his bed again.

"I want you to caress my love lance," he told her. "Touch it, India. Hold it in your hands. It will not harm you."

She sat facing him, curious to learn more about this part of him that had given her such incredible pleasure. Cautiously she touched his manhood with her fingertips. It was warm, and stirred slightly beneath her touch. She drew her hand back nervously, then gamely reached out again, taking his member into her hand, her fingers closing about him gently. "It seems alive," she said. "I can feel it throbbing." She loosed him, and stroked his manhood with surer fingers now, as if she were petting a favorite pet. To her surprise it began to grow beneath her very eyes, thickening and lengthening, its ruby head sliding from its velvet sleeve. "Ohhh," India breathed softly.

"You see the power you hold over me, my precious," he told her. "I think of you and am excited. You touch me, and I am aroused." Reaching out, he began to caress her breasts again.

"I can encourage your appetites as you do mine," she said, comprehending what he was trying to teach and show her.

He drew her down into his arms, kissing her. "Aye, India. You understand perfectly."

"Make love to me, my lord," she said softly, "and instruct me on how I may make love to you."

"That I will do another time. Tonight is for your delight, my love. For I gain pleasure knowing I have pleasured you." Then his lips took possession of hers once more, and it was heaven, India thought, quickly lost again in the fiery passion he engendered within her, and heedless of the world around her.

Azura, however, had noted there was no call from the dey this night for one of the harem women. When the midnight hour had come, she hurried to the apartment of the chief eunuch, saying as she entered, "He has not sent for a woman, Baba Hassan. Never in all the years he has been dey has a night passed when he didn't desire female company."

"Then the answer must surely be that our reluctant protégé has finally succumbed to our master," the chief eunuch answered the mistress of the harem. "Have you not noticed in the past few weeks the glances he sends her way when she is not looking at him? His patience has been utterly astounding for a mortal man.'' Baba Hassan arose from his pillows. "Come, Azura. Let us go and see what has happened between them."

"We cannot! It would be a terrible intrusion on the dey's privacy," she answered her companion.

Baba Hassan chuckled, his dark eyes crinkling almost closed with his humor. "Azura, he will never know we have spied on him." He took up a small oil lamp. "Follow me, lady." Walking across the chamber, the chief eunuch reached out to press his hand against the tile border just above his head. Almost immediately a hidden door swung open, revealing a narrow passage. Baba Hassan stepped through the door, followed quickly by Azura. The door swung shut behind them. "Come along," he whispered, and, flabbergasted, she followed behind.

The passage moved this way and that. The air was fetid, but breathable. How was it, Azura wondered, in all the years she had lived in this place, that she had never before known of this secret passage? Several times they came to crossroads, and the eunuch would turn right or left and once he went straight forward, the flame from his little lamp flickering skittishly upon the walls enclosing them. She was beginning to be uncomfortable in this small space. "Are we almost there, Baba Hassan?" she asked him, and, to her surprise, he stopped suddenly. She watched, as, raising the lamp up, he found a small handle, and, silently rotating it, revealed a tiny opening in the wall of the passage before which they now stood.

Baba Hassan turned his head, and said, "Look, Azura, and tell me what you see."

The mistress of the harem peered through the opening. To her astonishment she saw the dey's bedchamber before her. Her eyes went immediately to the bed, and then she smiled. India was in Caynan Reis's arms, and the dey was making very passionate love to her. And, most important of all in Azura's eyes, India was obviously enjoying her master's attentions. She turned away from her view, saying to Baba Hassan, "It is as you suspected."

The eunuch looked briefly into the room, and then, closing the peephole, led his companion back through the hidden passage to his own apartment again. The two conspirators settled themselves, and the chief eunuch himself brewed the coffee that they shortly drank. As they sat together he said to Azura, "Now we must hope that she has pleased him enough that he will not quickly be bored with her. She must have his child." He looked to the woman seated opposite him. "She has not been given the special sherbet, has she?"

"There was no need for it, as she would not accept his attentions until now," Azura replied. "Unless he orders me to give it to her, I shall certainly not do so." She smiled with her own memories. "He was being so gentle with her, Baba Hassan."

"He is in love with her," the chief eunuch responded dryly.

"Not lust?" Azura replied, surprised.

"No, love," Baba Hassan said. "He is behaving with her the way our late master behaved with you, lady. The girl is fortunate."

"Now let us pray to Allah, the most compassionate, that we have enough time before we are approached by the janissaries," Azura worried. "His heart must be so fully engaged with India that he will act in a wise and prudent manner. Oh, why cannot men be peaceful, Baba Hassan? Why must they always war and plot against one another?"

"It is their nature, lady," the chief eunuch answered her. Then he chuckled almost to himself. "Tomorrow, however, you will find a war brewing in the harem when the other women learn that India has now become a woman, and possibly will be our master's favorite."

Azura frowned, not in the least amused. "Their plotting and planning will rival the janissaries," she grumbled. She arose from her place opposite him. "I had best seek my bed. India will need me come the morning. I will have to protect her from the others. They were more than well aware that he had not sent for one of them tonight, and were pondering upon it when I shooed them all to their beds. By the morning they will surely have deciphered the puzzle."

"You can control them," the chief eunuch told her.

"Indeed I can," she replied, "but I dislike chaos in our little world, Baba Hassan. I will not, however, hesitate to remove any troublemakers." She hurried from his apartment.

When she had gone, the chief eunuch's face grew serious. The emissary for the janissaries had not yet come to El Sinut, but his contacts in Istanbul had recently advised him that a single agent had been dispatched from the capital to the Barbary States. Only one had been sent to avoid both suspicion and detection. It had been cleverly done. Who knew where he would begin his mission. Would he go first to Algiers, or come to El Sinut? And what disguise would he take? And how would he obtain the dey's ear? Aruj Agha was at sea yet. Baba Hassan sighed. He must be patient. It would all evolve as Allah willed it, but he hated the thought of rebellion.

El Sinut had been peaceful for some time now. The smallest of the Barbary States, it was always in danger of being swallowed up by its bigger, more powerful neighbors. Only a succession of intelligent, strong, and clever deys had kept it independent. That, and the fact that its fleet was larger than its size warranted, and was extremely lucrative for the royal coffers. But a serious rebellion against the sultan was something it had never encountered. Pray Allah, the all merciful, that they could avoid the anarchy when and if it came, the chief eunuch thought to himself.

Chapter 11

“Good morning, my lord. It is time for you to arise. I have brought the morning meal," Baba Hassan said, his smooth brown face impassive.

Caynan Reis rolled onto his back, and his blue eyes opened lazily. "Thank you, Baba Hassan," he said. "Must we get up now?" Propping himself up on an elbow, he leaned over, and kissed India awake.

"It is the general audience today, my lord," the chief eunuch reminded his master. "I could, of course, say you were ill, but that would cause consternation, I fear. Shall I escort you to the bath?"

"That is my task, Baba Hassan," India said, sitting up, and totally unabashed by her complete nudity.

"Your duties have changed, my precious," the dey told her with a smile, and then he kissed the tip of her nose.

"But I enjoy bathing you, my lord Caynan," she told him.

"So be it," he answered, and together they arose from their bed, walking hand in hand from the chamber toward the dey's bath.

A broad smile split the chief eunuch's face. This was very good. They were caught in the throes of love. Then his smile faded as quickly as it had come. But would India cooperate with them to aid the dey in avoiding treason? The English were very independent, but then they were loyal to their monarch, too. Still, the girl was no fool. But if they explained everything carefully to her, she could not fail to see the wisdom in their plan of action and convince the dey of it as well. He hurried off to the harem to speak with Azura.

His associate, however, had her hands full, and when he entered the fountain court of the haremlik. he was immediately surrounded by the dey's women, all chattering at him at once. "Be silent!" he thundered at them, and they stepped back, momentarily frightened.

"You see what I must put up with," Azura murmured.

"What has happened to the dey," the dark-haired Samara boldly demanded.

"Oh, Baba Hassan! Please tell us if our master is all right?" the beautiful blond Mirmah pleaded, her blue eyes teary.

"The dey is in excellent health and spirits this morning, ladies," the chief eunuch reassured them.

"But he did not send for one of us last night," the flame-haired Sarai exclaimed. "He always has one of us to warm his bed."

"He was not alone," Baba Hassan replied.

"The English girl?" Samara spoke the words with loathing.

"Oh, not the English girl," blond Deva half whispered. "She is so beautiful."

"I will scratch her eyes out!" Samara snarled.

"Attempt it, and you will find yourself in the open slave market within the hour," Azura replied sternly. "How spoiled you have all become! Your duty is to please our master, and if India gives him pleasure, then you should be glad for him. I will not tolerate jealousy in this harem, and neither will Caynan Reis. Resign yourselves to what was meant to be. Or would you prefer to provide entertainment for the janissaries?" She turned away from them, saying, "Come, Baba Hassan, we have business to discuss." Leading him to her own quarters, she asked, "Have you eaten yet? Come, and sit with me. Where is the dey?"

"I awoke them myself," the chief eunuch said. "I brought the morning meal, but India insisted on bathing her lord herself as she has been doing these past several months. Last night I told you that he loved her, but this morning I tell you that she loves him as well. This is just as we hoped, but now, my dear Azura, we must make certain that India follows our plan else we all find ourselves in jeopardy from the irrational and foolish behavior of the janissaries."

"I will go to the dey myself, and see what plans he has for India," Azura said. "I am certain that now he will no longer expect her to serve him as a body slave. I shall bring a beautiful kaftan for her to wear today. If she is to become his favorite, then she must have her own apartment, and everything that goes with such an honor. We have been friends since her arrival. Now I shall build upon that friendship. She is an intelligent girl, and can be brought to see reason. If she loves him as you believe, Baba Hassan, she will want to protect him from all harm. Melon?" She offered him a plate, and together they ate their morning meal, all the while planning how to protect the dey and El Sinut from chaos. When they had finished, Azura went to the main wardrobe for the harem and chose an exquisite turquoise-blue silk kaftan, embroidered with gold thread butterflies and creamy pearls, as well as several pale gold veils for India's head, and to shield her beautiful face should she go from the harem today.

Hurrying through the palace, Azura entered the dey's apartments, greeting her lord with a smile and displaying the finery. "I thought, perhaps, my lord, that you would want India garbed somewhat differently today. I have brought these garments for your approval."

"What think you, my precious?" Caynan Reis asked India.

"They are lovely, my lord. If it pleases you, I will wear them, but please let me come with you to the general audience. I love watching you judge and settle disputes. I will be happy to ply my fan today that you not become overheated."

"Nay, you will sit by my throne," he said. "Someone else will ply the fan. Now go and put on your new clothing for me while I speak with Azura," the dey commanded her, and India, taking the garments from the older woman, hurried into the bedchamber. "I want you and Baba Hassan in the audience chamber today, as well as the ladies of the harem. Seat them behind a carved screen so they may see, but not be seen," he told her.

"Is this a special occasion I have somehow overlooked?" Azura asked.

He laughed, and the sound was so happy and carefree that she was surprised, for she had never heard him make such a noise in all the years they had known each other. "I am going to marry her," the dey said. "Do not feign amazement, you lovely creature," he teased Azura. "You and Baba Hassan have dangled her before me since the day she arrived. You wanted this to happen, and while I believed you both mad, it would seem you know me better than I know myself."

"It is a man's nature to want love, and be loved in return, my lord," Azura answered him diffidently.

"Hah!" he chuckled. "You plotted the entire matter."

"My lord." India had come forth from the bedchamber.

Caynan Reis's deep blue eyes widened with approval. "Allah!" he exclaimed. "How exquisite you are, my precious love."

"Then you are pleased?" She smiled happily, then turned to Azura. "Thank you, my lady, for making such a fine choice."

Azura nodded in reply, and then said to the dey, "You will, of course, want the lady India to have her own apartment, my lord?"

"Aye. Have the empty rooms next to mine prepared for her," he instructed the mistress of the harem.

"But, my lord, those rooms are not within the harem," Azura reminded him, a trifle amazed by his instructions.

"The harem is for my concubines," he answered her. "The rooms near me are for my wife. I do not want my bride far from my side. While India will rule my house, and bear my children, you, my dear Azura, will continue to be the mistress of the harem. This is my wish."

"Yes, my lord," the older woman answered him. Allah! He really was in love with her. She bowed politely, and backed from the dey's apartments, hurrying to find Baba Hassan so she might tell him of all that had transpired and prepare the harem for their outing. She did not, however, tell her charges of the dey's decision to marry. That must be his little surprise. The concubines would, of course, be distressed by the news, but she would reassure them that their place within the dey's household was a secure one. He would not, for the time being, want their company as frequently as he had in the past, but they would come to accept the new arrangement. Any who caused difficulties would be sold away, and replaced.

While Azura was content that Caynan Reis take a wife and have children, the beautiful India must not be allowed to have such influence over her husband that he perhaps ignore his faithful servants. Eventually there must be a second wife, or at least a favored concubine to engage the dey's interest. India, however, could be the only woman allowed to give the dey sons lest El Sinut be subjected to the same sort of internecine warfare afflicting the Sublime Porte, where the sultan's women warred with each other, ambitious for their sons. It was just this sort of thing that had weakened the empire, leaving it vulnerable to factions like the greedy, power-hungry janissaries, who were even now plotting treason. For now, though, India would serve their purpose while making Caynan Reis the happiest of men, the mistress of the harem concluded.

"Come, ladies," she said, reentering the harem. "You are to dress in your finest garments, and be allowed to sit in the audience hall today, and watch our master in judgment over his subjects."

With cries of pleasure the harem women rushed to find the most flattering clothing that they could; rummaging through their jewel boxes; calling to their personal slaves for their cosmetics and perfumes. Azura oversaw it all, a secret smile upon her beautiful face, watching as Samara chose flame-colored garments, the equally dark-haired Leah, a deep rose. Red-haired Sarai was resplendent in green and gold, and the four blondes exaggerated their delicate coloring in the palest of pastels: pink, sky blue, peach, and apple green. And when the seven women were dressed with matching veils covering their bejeweled hair and their pretty faces, Azura escorted them from the harem to the audience hall.

Before them the chief eunuch went, clearing a path through the waiting populace, all of whom were fascinated to be given even the slightest glimpse of the dey's harem women as they hurried through the corridor, heads bowed, eyes lowered, and heavily veiled. Baba Hassan led the women into the vaulted chamber with its green-and white mottled pillars, and settled them behind a carved wooden screen facing the dey's throne, and set to one side. There, small chairs had been arranged in such a manner that each woman could gain a good view of the proceedings no matter where she was seated.

Samara silently counted the seats. There were but eight. Just enough for the harem, and the lady Azura. She smiled, well pleased. "Obviously the English girl does not merit the privileges we have been given," she announced smugly to her companions. "She cannot have pleased him."

"Remember," Deva remarked archly, "that she is merely his body slave."

"Exactly!" Samara crowed. "Her status remains lowly while ours is a favored one."

"I think she did please him," the blond Laylu replied. "Look!"

Azura bit her lip so as not to laugh as the seven pairs of eyes turned toward the dais, where even now Caynan Reis was standing. By his side stood India, her metallic gold veils glittering splendidly in the morning light as the hall grew silent with expectation. The girl's head was lowered just enough to be modest without being servile.

The dey spoke. "Today I bring you good news," he began. "I am the happiest of men, for I have decided to take a wife. I shall ask the chief iman to marry me to this woman before the sun has set this day." He took India's hand, leading her forward, saying, "Behold, she who has brought me the greatest joy I have ever known."

Then, to Azura's surprise, India knelt before the dey, kissing the hem of his bejeweled coat and finally flattening herself at his feet. The hall erupted into cheers even as Caynan Reis raised the girl up, his arm about her protectively. Then he brought her to a small satin stool set on his right hand, and seated her before taking his own throne. Baba Hassan looked toward the carved screen, and Azura knew the look was for her alone. It plainly said what Azura had known all along. India was strong of character. Indeed, she had played this hand beautifully, giving the dey the public respect he must have as the sultan's governor, while cleverly endearing herself to him further. It was obvious that the girl had decided where her fate lay.

"Well, well," Sarai said softly. "I should have never thought resistance was the way to our lord's heart." She shrugged fatalistically.

"Do not despair," Nila murmured. "One wife is always followed by a second. We will have our chance when our lord grows tired of the English girl's waspishness."

"That performance she just put on hardly smacks of pettishness," Samara observed, wiser than the others. "She is clever. Far cleverer than I would have given her credit for, the little bitch!"

"Let us give her a chance," Mirmah said to them, and Leah nodded in agreement. "We do not really know her. Now she will come to live in the harem with us, and it is possible we may become friends. After all, she is to be the master's first wife, and the first wife always has the most influence."

"Not always," Samara replied.

Azura held her peace, signaling them to silence now that the audiences had begun. They would find out soon enough that India was not to be housed in the harem with them, which would, of course, cause further jealousy. Samara was an obvious troublemaker, and she would also have to watch Nila and Sarai. Mirmah, however, had possibilities that Azura had never before observed. She would mention them to Baba Hassan, and they would keep Mirmah in mind for a possible second wife. She could prove to be the perfect counterbalance to the strong-willed India. Mirmah was a Circassian, bred for the harem and taught to please a master in a variety of ways.

The dey moved to get through the public audience as quickly as possible without slighting any of his supplicants. The crowds within the hall, however, understood, and some with but simple matters to be adjudicated requested of the chief eunuch that their cases be rescheduled another time so the dey might get on with his own personal business. The hall emptied quickly, for most in the crowds could scarcely wait to get outside into the town and spread the word of the dey's marriage.

When the public audience was finally over, Baba Hassan stepped forward, bowing to his master, and said, "Shall I take the lady India to the women's mosque, my lord, to be prepared for your marriage?"

Caynan Reis nodded, and then spoke quietly to India. "You will submit yourself to a special bath of purification, my precious. Then an iman will ask you several questions. Baba Hassan will translate what you cannot understand, and instruct you on how to answer."

India remembered shreds of stories she had heard from her family, now pushing into her consciousness. "You want me to accept Islam," she said to him.

He nodded. "If you are to be my wife, you must," he told her. "It is customary for all captives to do so in your position."

Words. She would say words. What was in her heart was known only to God, India thought. Her great-grandmother had, in a similar position, accepted Islam. So had her stepfather's great-grandmother. My own grandfather, whom I never knew, but of whom Mama has always spoken, the great Akbar, believed all religions had value. I do not have to reject Christ, India considered thoughtfully to herself. Then she looked into his eyes, smiling, and said, "I will do it, my lord, but in return I would have a favor from you."

"Walk with me, my precious love," he said, taking her by the arm, his look telling Baba Hassan to remain where he was. When they were a distance from any who might overhear, he asked her, "What would you have of me, India?"

"I have told you that my mother was the daughter of the great Mughal emperor, Akbar. When she was thirteen she was married to her first husband, a young prince. This prince was a follower of Islam, but while my mother had been raised to respect all faiths, she was, as I am, a baptized Christian. At her request she was also wed, in secret in her own Christian faith. Because he loved her, her prince was willing to acquiesce to her request. Will you do the same for me, my lord? Is there a Christian priest here in El Sinut who would marry us, and keep the secret so as not to endanger you?"

He thought for a long moment, and then said to her, "I am not certain who I can trust within the Christian community, which is very small, India. I promise you, however, that before our first child is born, I will wed you in your own faith. Will you accept my pledge on that, my precious love?"

"I will," she replied, "for I have learned in the months that I have been your body slave that you are a man of honor."

"Have you?" He was touched by her words. He had not realized she was observing him so closely. Emboldened, he asked her, "Do you love me just a little, India? Or do you wed me because it is the expedient thing to do?"

"I believe I am beginning to love you, my lord. I know I do not hate you. I realize now that all I have been told since coming to El Sinut is the truth. I will not return to England, and even if I ever did, it would be difficult for me. So is it not prudent for me to accept my fate, and make a happy life for myself?" She smiled shyly at him.

"Yes," he answered her, content for now with her candid answer. Then he led her back to Baba Hassan. "Do what must be done," he told the chief eunuch. "I will go and see the iman."

"We must leave the palace, and go to the women's mosque," Baba Hassan told India. He then gave orders to the slaves about them, and India shortly found herself in a litter once again, leaving the grounds of the palace for the first time since she had arrived in El Sinut five months back.

The women's mosque was a beautiful building of pure white marble. Inside, it was colonnaded with pillars of red-and-white marble holding up horseshoe arches. Baba Hassan put her in the charge of an old woman who took her to the ritual bath already awaiting the bride. It was little different from the harem bath, but India found she was being treated with deep respect by the bath attendants. It is a little bit like marrying a king, she thought, realizing that as wife of the dey, she was indeed very much like a queen.

When they had finished bathing, massaging, and perfuming her, they brought her fresh garments: a cream-colored kaftan embroidered with silver and gold threads, and small pearls and diamante. Her dark curls were brushed with fragrant oil and dressed with pearls; a gossamer veil shot through with gold and silver was placed on her head, a matching veil drawn across her face. Soft kid slippers covered in beaten gold were slipped upon her narrow feet.

"You are now ready, my lady," the mosque's bath mistress said. Then she led India back out into a courtyard where Baba Hassan was awaiting.

"Come," the chief eunuch said. "We must now see the iman who presides over the women's mosque. I will translate for you."

She was brought into the company of a white-bearded elderly man. While frail of form, his look was an intelligent and piercing one. Instinctively India bowed to him, and then stood silently, her eyes modestly lowered.

"The dey has chosen a beautiful woman, Baba Hassan," the iman said. "Does she understand why she is here?"

"I do, my lord iman," India said before the eunuch could speak for her. "I have come to accept Islam so my lord Caynan may wed me."

Baba Hassan smiled silently at her carefully spoken Arabic.

The iman nodded. "Had you ever heard of Islam before coming to El Sinut, my daughter? Our faith is an old one, though not quite as ancient as Christianity, and certainly not anywhere near as old as Judaism."

"I knew of Islam, my lord iman," India answered him. "Do we not all worship the same God?"

"Indeed, my daughter, we do. Come, let us sit, and I will tell you of the five pillars of wisdom that are the strength of our faith." They settled themselves upon a low divan, the chief eunuch standing behind them, and the iman continued. "To be a good member of Islam, you must observe our creed in which we demand belief in God, his angels, his books, his prophets, and the last day in which all men will be judged. Our prayer is a simple one. There is no God but God, and Muhammed is Prophet of God. Will you say the words for me, my lovely lady?"

"There is no God but God, and Muhammed is the Prophet of God," India spoke clearly. It was such a simple declaration.

"Angels, I know you believe in, having been raised in a Christian country. Our prophets are your prophets. Our holy books are called the Quran. We also recognize the scriptures of Abraham, the Torah of Moses, the Psalms of David, and the Gospels of Jesus Christ, all as revealed by God. The second pillar of wisdom is prayer. We pray five times daily. Upon rising, in early afternoon, in late afternoon, at sunset, and finally at night before retiring. The third pillar is alms giving. Like Christians and Jews we believe in charity toward those less fortunate than ourselves. The fourth pillar requires us to fast in the ninth lunar month, which we call Ramadan. Between sunrise and sunset we refrain from eating, drinking, smoking, and relations with our women. The fifth and final pillar of wisdom requires us to make a pilgrimage to the holy city of Mecca in our lifetime, if we can. These are things upon which our faith is founded, my lady. Will you accept them?"

"I will," India answered him without hesitation.

"Then, my daughter, having now accepted Islam, you are permitted to wed the dey," the old man said to her. "Understand that while it is every man's duty to wed and procreate, marriage in our world is not a religious rite. It is a contract between two people. The dey will settle a bride price upon you which is yours, and yours alone. You must be obedient to his will, and his will alone, my daughter. If at any time he wishes to divorce you, he will say, 'I dismiss thee' thrice. Your bride price would go with you in that event. We do not however, approve of divorce, and discourage men from it."

"What if a woman wishes to divorce her husband, my lord iman?" India asked, curious.

"Such a thing is not permitted," she was told. The iman arose slowly from his seat. "Baba Hassan, you will take the lady now to be wed. The chief iman of El Sinut is awaiting her arrival so he may witness this happy event."

India bid the elderly cleric farewell, and followed after the chief eunuch. The women's mosque was next to the main mosque in the city. They had but to cross a courtyard half shadowed with afternoon sun. He brought her into the building to a small room looking out upon a garden. Azura was awaiting them, along with the dey and the chief iman.

The iman, Abd Allah, was a portly man with a no-nonsense air about him. "Let us begin," he said. "You have settled a bride price upon the girl, my lord, and it is sufficient enough? Good!" He looked at India. "You are willing to marry this man, my lady?"

"I am," India replied softly.

"Excellent!" the iman answered with a smile. "Very well. I will witness you pledging to one another. You may begin, my lord dey."

Caynan Reis took India's hand in his. "Azura will whisper the words to you when it is your turn," he reassured her. Then, with a smile, he spoke his promise to her. "I, Caynan, take you, India, as my lawfully married wife before God, and in front of this company, in accordance with the teachings of the Quran. I promise to do everything to make this marriage an act of obedience to God, to make it a relationship of love, mercy, peace, faithfulness, and cooperation. Let God be my witness, because God is the best of all witnesses. Amen." His deep blue eyes looked directly into her golden ones as he spoke his vows.

India felt her cheeks grow pink. She was being married, and certainly in a manner she had never anticipated, or even expected. For a moment, tears welled up, and she wished her parents and her siblings were here with her. She was not unhappy with her decision, but she missed those she loved best. He squeezed her hand, and she focused upon his handsome face once more, smiling softly through her veil at him as she began to speak her own marriage vows to him.

"I, India, take you, Caynan, as my lawfully married husband before God, and in front of this company, in accordance with the teachings of the Quran. I promise to do everything to make this marriage an act of obedience to God, to make it a relationship of love, mercy, peace, faithfulness, and cooperation. Let God be my witness, because God is the best of all witnesses. Amen."

"It is done then," Abd Allah said with a broad smile. "May I offer you my felicitations, my lord dey. We are pleased to see you take a wife at long last. May the union be fruitful, and may your wife give you many fine sons."

"I will endeavor to see that she does her duty," the dey returned with a broad smile.

"Come," said Azura, taking India by the arm. "We must return to the palace discreetly. The servants have been working all day to prepare your apartments. I think you will be pleased." The two women entered their litter, Baba Hassan walking alongside of them. "And you must visit the haremlik before sunset."

"Why?" India asked her. "I am not going to live there. Those women hated me before I married my lord. How will they feel now? I am content to let them remain in their part of the palace, and I will remain in my part of the palace."

"The dey is not giving up his harem, India," Azura said. "It would be very unrealistic of you to believe he will cleave only to you. His appetite for female flesh is a strong one, and he indulges it daily. There will be times when you are unclean, or with child. You cannot ask him to suppress his desires in those times. It would be unhealthy for his juices to be so pent up. You are now the head of his women, and you must make peace with those silly, foolish creatures for the sake of your husband. His house must be a place of quiet and calm. Now, of the seven, Samara is the most dangerous. Be firm, but fair with her. She will not like you, but it may prevent her from mischief. If it does not, I will have her sold off. Nila is the clever one. She will act to her own advantage, but do not trust her. Mirmah, I believe, can be trusted. She is a gentle creature, and good-natured to a fault. As for the others, they are harmless, though some are sharp-tongued. I have chosen little gifts for you to give them this evening. Each is different, but none more valuable than the other, and they will recognize that."

India sighed deeply. "Very well," she said. "I will follow your advice, my lady Azura. In these matters you know better than I."

Azura laughed. "You are too young to isolate yourself, India. The harem women will be like sisters. Some you will love, others you will probably hate, but you will all manage to get on together."

"You say that with such certainty," India said.

"I have lived in the harem for over thirty years," Azura replied. "You are so fortunate. My lord Sharif made no woman his wife. He feared his enemies too much. While I was his favorite, I had to share his affections with the other women in his harem. It was not always easy for me, but it made him happy that I kept the peace within his house. I never whined at my lord about the other women, which set me apart from them. They were foolish, and were forever pouring a litany of complaints into his ear. My sole efforts were directed toward his comfort, his pleasure. I asked for nothing, and in return received everything. Even though you are the dey's wife now, India, you could benefit from my example," she concluded.

"Was Baba Hassan chief eunuch in lord Sharif's time?" India asked the older woman.

"Nay, the chief eunuch was old Baba Mamood. He died shortly after my lord Sharif. Baba Hassan was my personal servant, and my lord Caynan raised him into his current position on my advice. Baba Hassan and I love Caynan Reis as we would a son. We do whatever we have to do to see to his happiness and his safety," Azura told India.

"Who is he?" India wondered aloud. "I know nothing about him other than he, too, was once a captive. I do not know his nationality, or his station in his former life, or even his age."

"He is twenty-eight," Azura told her. "As for the rest, what does it matter? It has nothing to do with today. You love Caynan Reis, and that is all that should matter to you. Your life is here, and not back there in some other world, in some other time and place."

India nodded. "You are correct, my lady Azura. The past is nothing now. We must live for the present." She sighed. "I only wish that my family might know of my happiness. I hate to think of the pain I have caused them by my precipitous and hasty flight."

"If they knew where you were," Azura said, "they would surely attempt to retrieve you from us. Perhaps in a few years when you have children, you will be allowed to send a message to your mother."

"My grandmother would understand my plight better than anyone else in my family," India said. "She was in a similar position in her youth, and became the fortieth wife of the Grand Mughal Akbar."

"Yet she returned to England?" Azura was puzzled.

"Her family learned where she was, but might have been content except Grandmama's husband, the earl of BrocCairn, was alive. She had thought him dead in a duel, and had gone off to India with her elder brother to meet her parents when she was kidnapped and sent to my grandfather. By the time they found her, and requested her return, Grandmama had had my mother. Her family, of course, did not know that. My grandfather would not allow her to take the baby to England with her, and that is how Mama came to be raised in Akbar's imperial court. My family is not like any others," India finished.

"I should say not!" Azura remarked with a chuckle. "Ahh, we are finally back," she said as the litter was put down with a small bump. "Come, my lady India, and I will show you your new apartments. Then we must go to the harem." She laughed when the bride wrinkled her pretty nose in distaste.

India's new apartments were directly adjacent to her husband's. They would share the garden. There were but two rooms plus a small servant's chamber. The walls were white, the floors squares of large red tile. The day room had a small fountain in its center that was made of yellow-and-white tiles. There were several overstuffed divans with rolled arms, striped in blue and yellow satin; low ebony tables inlaid with tiny squares of multicolored tile; a rectangular cedar table upon which were a silver tray holding a decanter of lemon sherbet as well as a blue-and-white Fezware bowl of fresh fruit. There were large colorful pillows with gold tassels and standing bronze lamps burning fragrant aloes. Lamps of colored glass and warm, polished brass hung from the ceilings. Sheer silken curtains hung in the arches that opened to the garden, the carved screens being pulled aside.

The bedchamber was simple. There was a bed upon a gilt-and-painted dais. The mattress was covered in silver and sea-blue silk. There were more tasseled pillows. Several cedar chests were placed about the room, and upon a lovely table with carved legs was a gold-backed hand mirror and matching brush for her hair. By the bed was a low table upon which rested a silver lamp burning perfumed oils. Carved ivory screens blocked the arches, and were hung with silk curtains.

"Are you pleased?" Azura asked her.

India nodded. "It is all so lovely. Please thank the servants for me, lady. They have done very well. What is in the trunks?"

"Part of your bride price, I suspect. Clothing, jewelry, fragrance. There will be time for you to explore later."

"The harem," India resigned. "Where are their gifts?"

"Baba Hassan will bring them when he knows we are ready," Azura said. "If you go now, you will be able to join your husband all the sooner. Are you not ready again for his kisses and caresses?"

India blushed, nodding. "Let us go then," she replied.

As they entered the harem, the day room grew suddenly silent as seven pairs of eyes fixed themselves upon India.

"Make you obeisance to our master's wife, now head of this household," Azura announced to them. Then her eagle eye observed as the seven women bowed low to India, even Samara.

"I thank you for your greeting," India said in reply. "I have brought you all little tokens to celebrate my marriage today." She turned to the chief eunuch. "Baba Hassan, you know which gift is for which lady. Will you hand the gifts to me? I admit to not choosing them, for I do not know you all well enough yet, but I would have them come from my hand to yours." She smiled.

"Will the harem continue to exist, lady?" demanded Samara boldly. She was not a woman to beat about the bush.

"Whether the harem exists or doesn't exist is not my province. That is in the dey's domain. I am content, however, that you be here, but my husband's house must be free of discord. I will strive to see that it is so, Samara."

Her answer seemed to appease the harem women, and they each stepped forward to receive their gift. The gentle Mirmah set the tone by taking India's two hands in hers, and pressing them to her forehead in a gesture of acceptance and respect. Each of the others followed Mirmah's example, Samara being the last and obviously reluctant. India smiled at each of them, though some more warmly than others as she handed out the gift packets, which were wrapped in silk kerchiefs, and tied with gold ribbons. The ladies cried out, delighted as they opened their gifts, for Baba Hassan had not been stingy in choosing. The women compared the earrings and necklaces, and were all satisfied.

"Will you partake of light refreshments with us, my lady?" Mirmah asked India.

"I will be happy to join you," India replied, noting that Azura had disappeared from the scene.

The women led India to a divan, positioning themselves about her upon cushions as the slaves brought sweet grape sherbet, and a plate with tiny honey cakes and small horns of chopped nuts, and dough filled with raisins, nuts, and honey. There were also sweet dates and juicy figs upon the plate.

"You know I am English," India said as they ate. "I want to know about all of you. Mirmah is Circassian, Azura has told me, but what of the rest?"

"I am French," Nila said. "I am seventeen, and have lived in the dey's harem since I was fifteen. I was a gift to him from the dey of Algiers, who was my first master."

"We are Greek," Laylu said, indicating Deva in her statement. "We came from the same village, and have been enslaved since we were ten. Baba Hassan bought us in the market of El Sinut three years ago."

"I am Venetian," Sarai spoke up. "I come from a family of wealthy merchants. I was on my way to Naples to be married when my vessel was captured. After the corsair captain had taken his pleasure of me, he gave me to the dey, who beheaded him for violating me. Women captives are not supposed to be mistreated."

"I am Moorish," Leah said. "My family was poor, and sold me into slavery so they might survive. I had two masters before I came to the dey's harem last year."

"I am of Syrian birth," Samara said curtly.

India did not press Samara further, for she obviously did not wish to speak on her origins in detail for whatever reason. "It seemed so strange here at first," she said, "but now this is home. Did you all feel that way, too?"

The other girls nodded.

"Most of us were born free," Sarai said. "Being a slave, even a privileged slave, is difficult at first. You have done well to win our lord Caynan's heart and in such a short time, when none of the others of us could do it. He has always been kind, but he merely slakes his lusts upon our bodies. You have gained something more, my lady India, and we are frankly envious of you."

India blushed, not knowing what to say.

"But we are safe and comfortable," Mirmah spoke up, "and we shall all be friends. I was born on a slave farm, and raised to be a harem woman. It is better when the women of the harem get on, my lady India. My first master was Aruj Agha, who purchased me in the great market of Istanbul. One evening when the dey came to Aruj Agha's house for a meal, he saw me, and admired me. Aruj Agha had me delivered to the palace the next morning. I like it here. Aruj Agha had no other women, for he could not afford them. It was lonely waiting for him to return from his voyages. I am glad we have each other, and I am happy that our lord Caynan has found a wife."

Her sweet nature touched India, and, reaching out, she took Mirmah's hand and Sarai's hand in hers, saying, "I agree with Mirmah. We should all be friends, and keep peace in our lord's house. I promise you that I will be a good mistress to you."

"Allah!" Samara exclaimed. "I do not know if it is the cakes or the atmosphere, but I think I am going to be sick from all this sweetness."

India burst out laughing. "You remind me of my sister, Fortune, Samara," she said. "She says exactly what she is thinking, too."

Samara was surprised by India's reaction. She had expected the dey's bride to be offended, but here she was making light of Samara's rudeness. "Did you really take a knife to the dey when you arrived?" she asked India, frankly curious to know if the stories had been only rumor.

"I did," India admitted. "It is fortunate my aim was so poor, as I now love him." she chuckled.

"Allah! You are daring," Samara said with grudging admiration.

"I was not taught to fear," India replied quietly.

"How will you feel if our lord takes a second wife?" Sarai asked India frankly.

"Jealous," India responded candidly, "but I shall have to live with it." She paused. "If he takes a second wife," she concluded. The other women laughed.

"I suppose it is best to leave everything as it is now," Samara said thoughtfully. "One wife, and a harem. It would appear that we can all get along if we try, and we are content as things are."

The others murmured in agreement, and Azura, watching from behind a screen, was extremely pleased that India had taken her counsel, making her peace with the women of the harem. She is an intelligent young woman, the mistress of the harem considered. She can be influenced if she is approached correctly. El Sinut will be kept safe from the machinations of the janissaries. I am certain of it now. She turned her attentions back to the young women seated about India and listened with great interest, for they had somehow managed to turn the conversation to matters of a sensual nature.

India, blushing at their teasing, was clever enough to admit that she knew absolutely nothing about lovemaking other than what the dey had introduced her to the previous night. "I am so ignorant," she said. "I know it is audacious of me to ask your help in such matters, but I would please our master."

How ingenious of her, Azura thought admiringly. If nothing else, her very artlessness will win them all over. Even Samara. It is deftly done, particularly calling Caynan Reis our master, and not her husband. By not lording it over them she made herself one of them. It was skillful, and wickedly adroit of India. Azura considered the dey's wife might turn out to be far more than they had anticipated.

The mistress of the harem turned her attention back to the seven women and India, listening with great amusement as they all began talking at once, for each was certain she could teach India how to please the dey better than any of the others. Azura remained to be certain none of the other women misled the bride, but they obviously did not consider it, being far too interested in imparting their own knowledge to her. The older woman shook her head wonderingly. Everything was going even better than she had hoped. Baba Hassan would be equally pleased when she told him. It was simply perfect!

^{Chapter 12}

The chief eunuch bustled into the harem, and, going to India, bowed politely. "My lady, your husband wishes your presence."

India arose at once. "I shall never remember everything," she said with a small laugh. "May I come back tomorrow?"

"Yes!" they chorused, and sent her on her way.

"Well," Samara said as the harem doors closed behind the dey's wife. "I have to admit she is likable. Or so it would seem. Prepare yourselves for a drought ladies. He will not grow tired of her for some time, and we, fools as we are, are helping her to retain his attentions!"

"She will be with child the sooner," Nila chuckled, "and then the dey will seek us out for his pleasure and amusement."

"Why should she have a child when none of us have?" Leah asked.

"Foolish one," Mirmah told her. "We are fed something in either our food or drink to keep us infertile. It is common practice in the harems of Istanbul. Did none of you know that? The lady India, however, will be given no such cordial. Indeed, she will be fed all manner of delicacies, as will the dey, to encourage them to produce a child. It will be nice to have a baby among us."

"If she does not cease her cheerful, mindless prattle," Samara muttered darkly to Sarai, "I may throttle our little golden bird."

India, meanwhile, followed Baba Hassan back to her own quarters. As they entered the apartment, a young girl came forward, and bowed low.

"On the dey's instructions I have been searching the slave markets these last few weeks, my lady, for a girl who could speak your native tongue and had a modicum of intelligence so you would have someone to serve you in whom you could put your trust," the eunuch said. "I found this wench almost a month ago, and have endeavored to train her properly. If she pleases you, she is yours."

India turned and smiled at the girl. She looked very young, and her gray eyes were quite apprehensive. She was slight of build and had carrot-colored hair that was quite startling in its brightness. "What is your name?" India asked the girl in English.

"Margaret, lady, though I be called Meggie," the girl replied.

"You are English?"

"Nay, lady, I be Scots," Meggie said.

"Ahhh." India smiled. "I thought the accent not quite right. I am the stepdaughter of the duke of Glenkirk, Meggie. I grew up north and west of Aberdeen. Where are you from?"

"Ayr, my lady, where the laddies are braw, and the lassies are bonnie, 'tis said," Meggie told her new mistress.

India turned to Baba Hassan. "The girl will do excellently. You have chosen well, Baba Hassan, but then, I would have expected no less of you. She is not however, English, but a Scot. As I was raised in Scotland, I am comfortable with her. Now, where is the dey?"

"He dines tonight with Aruj Agha, who has this afternoon returned from his voyage. He will come to you afterward, my lady."

"Is my cousin, Osman the Navigator, with Aruj Agha? I would inquire after his health, Baba Hassan," India said.

"I will see, and then bring you word, my lady." He bowed himself from her chambers.

"Come," India said, leading Meggie to a divan. "Tell me how you came to be in El Sinut?"

"My da is a sea captain, my lady," Meggie said. "I was always begging him to take me on a voyage like he did me ma when they was young. So as I was to be married to Ian Murray this coming summer before the clans gather, Da said he would take me to Bordeaux where he was to pick up a cargo of wine. We was attacked in the Bay of Biscay." The girl's eyes grew teary. "Me da was killed right before me eyes, lady. Sliced right through him, they did! Me and the sailors that survived was carried off. I was nae harmed, though. Indeed, they was most careful of my well-being." Then a rush of tears slid down her freckled face. "Now my Ian will marry that smug Flora MacLean, who's always been after him like a cat wi a bird."

"Aye, he probably will, lassie," India said bluntly, "and there is little you can do about it, I fear. Women are rarely, if ever, ransomed from Barbary, and, besides, who would there be to claim you? You are fortunate, Meggie, that the chief eunuch of the dey's household purchased you. You might have been sold to a cruel master or mistress, or, worse, into a brothel. You will be safe with me, and as the dey's first wife, you will have a position of status among the servants."

Meggie wiped her tears with the back of her hand, and, giving a final sniffle, said, "I'll be faithful to ye, my lady, I promise."

"I know you will," India reassured the girl. "Do you know your way to the kitchen?"

"Aye, my lady."

"Then go to Abu, the cook, and tell him that I desire my supper. Bring it back, and I shall eat in the garden. My husband is dining with an old friend."

"Very good, my lady," Meggie said, and hurried off.

Baba Hassan returned to tell India that her cousin was not with Aruj Agha, but had remained aboard their ship. "He has proved himself worthy of trust, my lady, and will soon begin to teach our sailors how to manage his round ship. We have captured two more in the last few months, one from the French, and another from the Dutch. Is the girl satisfactory, my lady? She cannot seem to learn our language, but had enough French that I was able to guide her. She seems willing enough."

"She saw her father killed when their ship was attacked," India told the eunuch. "He was the captain, and she was to be married soon. She is just getting over the shock of it all. If she is not stupid, I'll try to teach her the language. At least enough to get about. She will, I believe, be a good companion for me. Thank you, but tell me, Baba Hassan. You say you purchased her for me over a month ago. I was still the dey's body slave then."

"But you were falling in love with him, my lady, and he with you. I could see it and Azura, too. I knew it to be a matter of time until you succumbed to his passions. You are young, and you are beautiful, and the juices of life flow deep within you. If I had waited until today to seek out a suitable servant for you, I might not have found one for months."

India laughed. "You are a clever man, Baba Hassan. I believe the dey is fortunate to have you looking after his best interests so carefully. I am glad you and Azura are my friends."

"Lady," the chief eunuch said, "I know this is your wedding day, but may I speak with you seriously for a moment?"

India nodded.

"I must ask you to say nothing to your husband about the matter I am bringing to your attention. It is in your husband's best interests, I assure you."

India was intrigued. "I will keep your confidence, Baba Hassan."

"I have many contacts throughout the sultan's realm, my lady. It was brought to my attention several months ago that a plot was afoot in Istanbul to assassinate the sultan and his mother, the valideh. The instigators of this perfidy are the janissaries. Already they have dispatched an agent to the Barbary States. This man will seek to gain the Barbary rulers as allies, promising them freedom to rule without answering to the Sublime Porte, and freedom from tribute. It is a generous offer, but I do not believe this plot can prevail. Those who associate themselves with this treason risk death. The janissaries will be forgiven after some punishment. They always are because they are strong. Anyone else involved will not be forgiven, for an example must be made. El Sinut is the smallest of the Barbary States. It is possible we may not be approached, but if we are, Azura and I will need your aid in dissuading the dey from throwing his lot in with the conspirators. Remember, Aruj Agha is his closest friend, and Aruj Agha will be loyal to the corps first even if he disagrees with them. He cannot, will not, betray his fellow janissaries."

"If I were the valideh," India said, "I should punish the janissaries in the Barbary States. They are the least important men in the corps, yet, as janissaries, can be held liable for the betrayals of their fellows in Istanbul without really offending those traitors. I would punish the rulers of the Barbary States, and set men loyal to me in their place. Is that not right, Baba Hassan?"

"That is precisely what the valideh will do, my lady. How astute you are to see it all so quickly and clearly," he told her.

"If my husband is approached," India said, "I will help you and Azura to foil any plots against El Sinut. In the meantime, I will remain silent, for why should Caynan Reis be distressed by that which may not even happen. How will you discourage the agent of the janissaries?"

"If he comes here first, the dey will be advised to tell him to go to the other deys in Tunis, and Algiers, and Morocco, and then return to El Sinut. Caynan Reis will say, as the smallest of the Barbary States, he is the most vulnerable and must be certain the bigger states will involve themselves first before he commits El Sinut. If the agent comes to us last we will simply kill him so he may not return to Istanbul, but we will send his head to the valideh, telling her of the plots to dethrone her son, and that we did not betray the sultan."

"Why not kill him if he comes here first?" India inquired.

"Because if he goes to the others, and they are willing to betray the sultan, and we are not, Caynan Reis looks the better for it. Perhaps the sultan and his mother will reward him in some grand manner, my lady."

"And Aruj Agha? What of him?"

"He will not know until after the agent is disposed of, my lady. We can keep his loyalty and his friendship if we do not ask him to divide those qualities within him," the eunuch answered her.

"I can see that I have much to learn from you, Baba Hassan," India replied quietly.

He bowed low to her, smiling. "I am honored that you think so, my lady India," he responded.

Meggie now returned, struggling beneath the weight of a tray. Staggering across the day room, she placed it with a clunk upon the cedar table. "Abu wasn't certain what would please my lady's palate," she said dryly, "and so he has sent almost everything in the kitchen."

"I will leave you to your meal, my lady," Baba Hassan said, and he withdrew.

India walked over to the table, and began inspecting the foods the cook had sent her. There was chicken, a bowl of what appeared to be lamb stew, saffroned rice, steamed artichokes, a bowl of yogurt with peeled green grapes, flat bread, a honeycomb, a bowl of oranges, figs, a pomegranate and bunch of grapes, and a decanter of fresh sherbet.

"You will eat with me tonight, Meggie," India said.

"Shall I fill your plate, my lady?" the girl asked.

India shook her head. "I will do it," she replied, and cut herself several slices of the roasted chicken, which she lay upon her plate along with some saffroned rice and an artichoke.

When the servant saw her mistress was content, she spooned some of the lamb mixture onto her plate, and tore a piece of the flat bread off the round for herself.

"Is it good?" India asked her.

"Aye! 'Tis certainly flavored better than my mam's," Meggie admitted, "and 'tis true lamb, not mutton, I'm thinking."

India took her spoon, and lifted a chunk of the meat from its gravy. "It is good," she agreed. "Try some chicken. Abu has flavored it with onion and sage, I believe."

The two young women finished off their meal with the yogurt and the fruit. Meggie poured them both some of the tart-sweet sherbet to drink, and when it was consumed, she gathered all the dishes up, and returned them to the kitchen.

When she returned, she asked India, "Where am I to sleep, my lady?"

"That small cubicle is yours," India told her, pointing across the day room. "Make certain there is a pallet for you there, and then come and help me prepare for bed. As my husband is entertaining, I do not imagine he will call for me this evening."

Meggie undressed her mistress, and sponged her with rose water. Then India slid naked beneath the silk coverlet upon her bed, bidding her new servant good night. What a day it had been, she thought! Since this time last night she had lost her virginity, and had gotten married. Now the stories of her female relations' adventures began to surface in her consciousness. She had always listened with but half an ear when they were told. It had been Fortune who had been fascinated by these tales. India had always thought them a little shocking, and perhaps not really true. Just made up adventures to amuse. Now she wasn't certain.

There had been her stepfather's great-great grandmother, Janet Leslie, whose portrait hung in the Great Hall at Glenkirk Castle. She, it was said, had been the favorite wife of a Turkish sultan. And, of course, her own great-grandmother, the fabled Skye O'Malley, who had lived in Algiers as both a wife and a harem slave. And Great-aunt Aidan, who had at one time been wife to a Tartar prince, and held captive in a sultan's harem. And Aunt Valentina, who had been kidnapped, and held in a pasha's harem, the very same pasha who had once enslaved her stepfather's mother, the beautiful Lady Stewart-Hepburn. And, of course, her own grandmother, Velvet Gordon, who had been fortieth wife to the great Mughal ruler, Akbar of India.

It would seem she was following a family tradition, India considered wryly. The only difference was that all those women had eventually been able to make their way home. A tear slid down India's cheek. For the first time since her capture, a great feeling of homesickness overwhelmed her. Until recently, she had not dared to exhibit an ounce of weakness. Now, however, she could not help herself. She wanted desperately to see Mama and Papa, and Fortune and Henry, and the rest of their siblings. Had they cried when news of her capture came? Did they even know? Or had they assumed she had run off with Adrian Leigh, and was now his wife, and would eventually return? Did they even miss her, or had they washed their hands of her, taking Fortune off to Ireland to find her a husband? Fortune, who had thought it very practical that their parents find her a husband. Will they ever know what happened to me? India wondered. And she sobbed softly.

Caynan Reis had entered his wife's bedchamber quietly, and now, hearing the sound of her weeping, he hurried to her side. "What is it, my precious?" he asked, joining her upon her bed, and gathering her into his arms. "What has made you sad?"

"I…1 m-miss m-my family!" India wailed.

"Ahhh," he said, understanding her complaint. He held her close, and smoothed her curls soothingly.

"T-they don't know wh-where I am!"

"Give me a child so no one can steal you away from me, my precious India, and I promise you that you may write to your mother," the dey told her. "I have told you that I love you, and it is the truth. I could not bear it if some misguided parent took you from me."

"I… I love you, too!" India told him. "But I want my family to know of, and share in our happiness, my lord Caynan."

"In time," he vowed to her, and then he was kissing her passionately. "You are mine, my beloved, and I shall allow no one to take you back!"

Almost immediately she was swept away by his hungry devotion. All thoughts of her past life disappeared as his burning desire overwhelmed her. She loved, and was loved in return. There could be nothing more wonderful than that! "Ohhh, my lord," she murmured against his lips, "I do adore you!" Her hand caressed his shoulder gently. "I am content to be with you. Let me show you what the harem women taught me this afternoon when I visited them. Tell me if it pleases you."

To his great surprise she slipped from his embrace, and rolled him onto his back. Then she straddled him, and began letting her hands roam across his smooth chest. Shy at first, she grew bolder, taking his nipples between her thumb and forefinger, and rubbing them teasingly. He was about to reach up and take her tempting little breasts in his own hands when she leaned forward, and began kissing his chest, then licked at it seductively with her tongue. Slowly, carefully she moved down his torso, her dark curls brushing his smooth skin seductively. He was scarcely breathing for fear of deferring her progress, wondering how far she would go, and then her hand closed about his manhood.

Her fingers tightened about him briefly while her other hand brushed over his thighs, pushing between them to cup his jewels in the warmth of her palm. India bent lower, astounded by her own daring, but unable to cease her erotic actions. It had all sounded so wicked when the harem ladies elucidated upon it, but now, caught in the throes of her own rising desire, she knew she must continue onward. She squeezed him gently once again. He grew thicker and longer beneath her sensorial ministrations. Her head dropped, and she kissed the ruby-red tip of his manhood, then licked all around it.

He shuddered with the voluptuousness of her behavior, gasping softly as she enveloped him within her mouth and began to suck upon his throbbing member. Tongue and teeth teased at him, causing his whole body to quiver with excitement. Then a single finger reached beneath his pouch, pressing into a spot so sensitive that his whole frame arced with pleasure, and he groaned with sheer delight. "Ohhh, sweet witch, they have taught you well! Ahhhhhh! Enough! Enough!"

India released him, and looked sloe-eyed upon Caynan Reis. "I do not please you?" she asked innocently.

"You please me, my precious, and you kill me, too, with your skill." He pulled her forward, and, lifting her, said, "Come now and mount me, my beloved. I would encase my weapon within your pleasure sheath."

Now it was India who gasped as she felt him sliding into her eager body. Her eyes closed, her back arched, and instinctively she rode him until his lusts burst within her and she fell forward upon his chest, whimpering with her own pleasure. He maintained the union, gently rolling her onto her back so that it was he who was now the dominant one. His kisses covered her face, and India sighed deeply as she slowly, and most reluctantly, returned to earth.

"I shall reward the ladies who encouraged and developed your skills," he told her, smiling into her eyes.

Now India blushed, realizing what she had done. "I was bold," she said softly, touching his face with her hand.

"Very bold," he agreed affably. "I hope you will continue in your daring, India. I gained great pleasure from it." He slowly kissed her, thinking as he did that she had the most kissable mouth he had ever known. Nibbling upon her lower lip he told her so.

"I like kissing you," she admitted.

"Are my kisses sweeter than your English milord?" he demanded.

"Aye," she told him, realizing as she did that it was the truth. "I did not kiss him a great deal," she admitted candidly, "but I do not believe he had your skill, my lord Caynan."

"Perhaps I shall ransom him," the dey said.

"It would be kind," India agreed. "If he has survived these past months in the galleys, surely that is enough punishment for his rudeness toward you, my lord. His father is old, and sickly, and he is his mother's only child."

"Did you ever meet his parents?" the dey asked her.

India shook her head. "His father remained at his home in the country. He has not left it, I am told, since his elder son killed Lord Jeffers and then fled the country. As for his mother, even poor Adrian admitted the woman was little better than a bawd. He avoided her as much as he could. As I am certain she would have wanted her son's marriage to me to take place, she wisely avoided both my family and me. My parents were taking me back to Scotland to get me away from Adrian when I eloped."

He nuzzled her neck, his kisses sending shivers down her spine. "Did you really intend to wed him, or were you having second thoughts?" he gently pressured India.

It was so hard to think when his body pressed hers so closely and his lips did such delicious things to her senses. "I didn't like running away," she admitted. "It seemed so precipitous, but Papa was so obdurate in his opposition to Adrian. Now, I think, that might have had more to do with encouraging my hasty actions than any love I felt for Adrian. I realized as we traveled that while the adventure was exciting, perhaps we were being dishonest. I should have not allowed Adrian to push me to such an abrupt act. I have only hurt those I love best," India concluded.

"But had you not run away, I should not have made you mine," he murmured softly, his tongue pushing into her ear to tease it.

"No," she whispered. "Ahhhh, my lord, you are growing hard inside me!" She trembled against him. "How can this be?"

"Be quiet, little fool, and let me love you," he growled at her. "You arouse me as no female ever has." He began to move upon her.

Oh, God! This love was so powerful a thing, India thought, as she felt his length begin to slowly piston her afresh. Her eyes closed once more, and her breathing became shallow as he pleasured her a second time. She could actually feel him within her. Hard, and throbbing with heat. If she had only known, India considered muzzily, she never should have resisted him for so long. She felt so safe in his arms. She trusted him entirely, although she didn't understand why. She soared with the waves of hot delight beginning to wash over her as he moved within her fevered body.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear. "You are my precious one; my adorable and adored wife, India. I worship you with my body."

"I love you, my lord Caynan," she murmured back. "I have never known such happiness as I know now in your arms. Give me your son, my dearest lord. Give me your son!"

Their deep passion finally overcame them as they fell from the peak together. They tumbled into sleep, limbs tangled, breathing even, she curled against him, his arm protectively over her in a sweetly possessive gesture; and they slept until almost dawn when the dey awoke.

He looked at the girl lying against his chest. Give me your son, she had cried out to him in her ardor. Allah, he had emptied himself twice that night into the recesses of her secret garden. He very much wanted to grant her request of him. For the first time in his life he knew he did indeed want children. He had not wanted them with other women, and none of his harem women had ever made such a demand of him. He sighed.

If this had been England he would have offered properly for Lady India Lindley and not rested until she was his wife. Their first son would have been a future earl of Oxton. But this was not England; this was El Sinut, and his first son would be in constant danger from outside forces because his father was the dey. Still, if he could get the sultan to grant him his office in perpetuity, the child would be his heir. He must do the sultan some great service while the boy was yet young, or yet unborn. The valideh was known to dote on her lad and would be generous, Caynan Reis had not a doubt.

It was not such an unusual request. Deyships had been created in the past that continued forever, provided the family was loyal. He smiled in the dusk of predawn. He did not even know if his efforts had made his young wife fruitful. He must continue to labor until she showed the signs of being with child. It was not a difficult assignment.

Caynan Reis suddenly realized he was the happiest of men. A month passed, and then two. Aruj Agha had left the morning following the dey's marriage for another voyage. Now he had returned, and would be in port for some weeks seeing to much-needed repairs on his vessel. His English navigator, Osman, would be working with a crew made up of both Europeans and citizens of El Sinut on his former vessel, teaching the Arabs how to sail and man such a complicated ship. They went no farther than the outer harbor for the present as the Europeans were in a distinct minority aboard the Royal Charles, now renamed, the Sultan Murat.

"I have never known you to be so content," the janissary captain teased his friend one day as they shared Turkish coffee and the water pipe. "I would not have thought Caynan Reis vulnerable to love."

"All men are susceptible to love," the dey told him with an easy laugh. "Even Aruj Agha. One day you will find the right woman, my friend."

"Once there was a woman I loved," came the surprising admission, "but it was not to be. Besides, in my position, a wife is a liability. In earlier times, in the days of Sultan Selim I and his son, Suleiman, janissaries were not allowed to wed. It was better that way, I think. A man who worries about his wife and offspring is too cautious in battle. Caution does not win victories. Wars are won by those who are unafraid of what they might lose. Those who do not fear death. A man with a wife worries as to her fate if he dies. I am better without a mate."

"Do you not want sons?" the dey asked him.

"I'm certain I've fathered a few in my time, although I cannot be really certain," Aruj Agha said genially.

The chief eunuch entered the chamber, bowing to his master. "There is a visitor from Istanbul to see you, my lord," he said.

"Can it not wait until the general audience tomorrow, Baba Hassan?" Caynan Reis asked.

"I fear not, my lord," the chief eunuch replied.

"I will leave you, my friend," Aruj Agha said.

"Nay," Caynan Reis told him. "You are the captain of the janissaries here in El Sinut. A visitor from Istanbul who would speak privily with me should be heard by you as well. I trust few men as I trust you. Show the man in, Baba Hassan. I will receive him now."

The eunuch bowed, his face offering no emotion. A moment later, he returned with a tall, obviously battled-hardened man with the enormous mustachios of a traditional janissary, who made immediate and respectful obeisance to the dey.

Caynan Reis acknowledged the gesture, and said, "Speak."

"My lord, you have a guest. What I have to say is for your ears alone," his visitor said.

"This is Aruj Agha, captain of the janissaries here. Whatever you have to say to me can be said before him," the dey replied.

"You support the janissaries then, my lord?" came the question.

"I support all who wish our lord, Sultan Murat, may he live a thousand years, well, and serve to keep his peace," was the clever reply.

His visitor smiled. "I bring you greetings, my lord dey, from the court of the janissaries. I am Hussein Aga of the corps. The matter I have come to discuss is a delicate one. Do I have your word you will not repeat to any what is spoken here this day?"

Caynan Reis nodded. "Speak," he said.

"My lord, the sultan is young. A mere boy who will not rule for himself for several years to come. We are governed by a woman, the valideh. Such a thing is not to be tolerated. Her influence must be purged from the palace, from the empire."

"And how is this to be done?" the dey asked dryly. "Will you murder this woman, and then rule for the sultan in her place?"

"It is more complex than that, my lord. Sultan Murat loves his mother well. He cannot really be separated from her. It is better that he not rule any longer, but rather be disposed of with his parent."

The dey stroked his chin thoughtfully. "And who would you place upon the throne of the Ottoman, Hussein Aga? One of the poor incompetent elderly princes who has been housed a lifetime in the Cage? The advantage of this sultan is that he has not been in the Cage long enough to be spoiled, or go mad. Who will you put in his stead?"

"There are two younger brothers," was the immediate reply.

"You would have to murder one of those children, too, lest someone else, some other faction, use that boy in yet another revolt," the dey said in practical tones. "I suppose you could kill the next eldest, and place an infant upon the throne, thereby guaranteeing the janissaries a long rule, eh? How old is the youngest? Four? Five?"

"Such matters are for the corps to decide," Hussein Aga said stiffly.

"Why come to me then?" Caynan Reis demanded. "I am the dey of the smallest of the Barbary States. I have no power other than that given me by the sultan, and it does not extend beyond my borders. What do you want of me, Hussein Aga?"

"Your support in this matter," the agent of the janissaries replied. "Give us your loyalty. We will make you autonomous in El Sinut. You will be freed from tribute in perpetuity. Would you not like your son to inherit this little kingdom of yours?"

"I have no son," the dey said quietly.

"But you are a young man, and you could have sons. When El Sinut is yours, you can free your harem women from the draught they are fed to keep them sterile. You might be the patriarch of many in time, my lord dey," Hussein Aga tempted him. Then he smiled, reminding Caynan Reis of a ferret he had possessed as a boy.

"Have you spoken to the deys of the larger states?" Caynan Reis asked his visitor.

"You are the first, my lord," was the response.

Again the dey stroked his elegant, short barbered black beard as if he were giving great consideration to Hussein Aga's words. Then he spoke once again. "As the smallest kingdom, I have more to lose than the others, Hussein Aga. What if I agree to join you in your revolt, and the others do not? Both Algiers and Tunis have been seeking to annex El Sinut for years. I have recently taken a wife. I would not see her widowed and given to another man because I did not show caution. No. I will only consider joining you if the others agree first. If you fail, an example will be made. El Sinut might be considered expendable by Istanbul. I must protect my people. Understand, I care not who rules the empire as long as I am left in peace to do my duty to that ruler and oversee the well-being of El Sinut. I am not saying I will not join you, just that I would be reassured my more powerful and wealthier neighbors will be part of your scheme. When you can bring me that assurance, then I will give you my answer, Hussein Aga. The mouse is wise to look to the cat, eh?" Caynan Reis smiled in friendly fashion.

"I appreciate your candor, my lord dey, and I perfectly understand your position," was the silky reply. "I shall leave tomorrow for Algiers, Tunis, and Morocco."

"But tonight," the dey said genially, "I insist that you be my guest." He clapped his hands, and Baba Hassan was by his side.

"My lord?"

"Have Abu kill a lamb, and make a feast for our noble guest, Baba Hassan." The dey turned to the janissary. "You will stay with us, of course, in the janissary barracks here within the palace walls?"

Hussein Aga bowed his acceptance.

"Aruj Agha, my friend, take our visitor to the baths, and see he is made comfortable. Baba Hassan will provide you with fresh clothing for this evening, and see that your travel-worn garments are cleaned and freshened for your departure tomorrow," Caynan Reis said jovially.

Again the agent from Istanbul bowed. "You are a gracious host, my lord dey. I shall remember it."

The two janissaries left the dey's private chamber escorted by the chief eunuch. Caynan Reis sat alone contemplating what had just transpired. The ever-resourceful Baba Hassan had told him but two days ago of the impending arrival of this agent. The chief eunuch had built up over the years an invaluable network of informants that stretched all the way from El Sinut to Istanbul; from Algiers to Damascus. Whatever was important, Baba Hassan knew in advance. The eunuch was a man of great talents, and deserved a larger venue, but I am glad he is mine, Caynan Reis thought.

When he had learned of the plot against the sultan he had spoken of it to India as they lay together, sated with their passion. She had been circumspect in her counsel, advising him to prudence and asking, "Has this young sultan been a bad sultan, my lord?" The dey had told his wife that their boy overlord was ruled by his mother, who so far had proven wise in her judgments and recommendations. The empire was calm and prosperous right now.

"I would avoid committing myself, my lord Caynan," India said. "I think it dangerous, and has any revolt ever executed by the janissaries succeeded? Avoid giving your loyalty to these traitors."

He had agreed with her, and told both Azura and his chief eunuch that he thought his wife very wise for one so young and beautiful. Now, however, he realized upon consideration that he had been offered an opportunity to gain the right to have his firstborn son inherit El Sinut one day. If he could reveal the plot against the sultan to the valideh before it could be enacted, would not the sultan's mother be grateful? Caynan Reis smiled, well pleased.

Chapter 13

“I do not like Caynan Reis," Hussein Aga said to Aruj Agha as they lounged in the heated bathing pool. He spoke Turkish.

"Why?" the younger janissary captain asked the visitor from Istanbul. "He is a good public servant, and very loyal." He answered his superior in Turkish, the language he had learned as a child, the language of the corps of janissaries.

"He is too clever by far, telling me to go to the other deys and then return to him. I do not trust him. He does not mean to support us. Those who do not support us are our enemies."

Slaves bustled about the two men in the bath, preparing the massage benches for the bathers, bringing heated towels for them.

"It is his way to be cautious," Aruj Agha defended Caynan Reis. "I have known him for ten years now. Not once have I known him to act dishonorably. What you have offered him-freedom from tribute, El Sinut for himself and his heirs-is an irresistible temptation. He has, only several months ago, taken his first wife. He will want the security you offer for his sons, but his is a little state. For years, his larger neighbors have hovered like vultures in the desert, seeking to annex El Sinut for themselves. It makes Caynan Reis a careful man."

"Why in Allah's name would anyone want this remote piece of earth," Hussein Aga demanded scathingly.

"El Sinut has the finest deep-water harbor along the Barbary coast. That is why our tribute to Istanbul has surpassed that of Algiers and Tunis. And beyond the city are date orchards whose harvests exceed any in the region. The dates are plumper and sweeter than others. It is the soil, I am told. And we have salt mines, as well as a famous mineral spring at the Star Oasis where the wealthy from all over the east-even from as far as Damascus- come to be cured," Aruj Agha said.

"I was not aware of how prosperous an area this is," Hussein Aga replied more thoughtfully. "Perhaps you are right, and I am seeing jiins where there are none. Certainly your friendship with this petty dey is not to be discounted. I was impressed that he insisted you remain when I asked to speak to him alone. It shows a certain respect for the corps of janissaries."

"He has always worked with us, Hussein Aga, and, frankly, he has been more than generous with the wealth we collect on our voyages. Are you aware that he even sends one ship of tribute to the corps each year, and has since he succeeded the previous dey, Sharif."

"That is why I was sent here first," Hussein Aga said. "It was believed Caynan Reis was a friend to us who could be trusted."

"He can be!" the younger man swore. "I would stake my own life upon it. Certainly you now understand his discretion."

"I will accept your word in this matter," Hussein Aga replied. "I know you for an honorable man. I remember you as a boy in the prince's school, and I know your uncle, who is one of our leaders. But remember, Aruj Agha. If this dey betrays us in any way, it will be your duty to kill him. You do understand that, don't you?"

"I hear, and obey," was the simple reply.

"Good! Good! Now, do you think you can find me a pretty girl to make my evening complete. Surely a young man as yourself knows a number of pretty girls," the older janissary chuckled.

"She will be eagerly waiting for you in your quarters after we have dined with the dey this evening," Aruj Agha said with a smile.

The two men exited the bathing pool to be enveloped in warm towels by the bath slaves. They were dried and massaged, and then dressed in clean clothing. Together they departed the baths to stroll in the palace's public gardens before the evening meal was to be served.

Baba Hassan watched them briefly from his high window, and then turned to receive the mistress of the baths. "You have information for me, Oma?"

"Not I, my lord, but Refet." She drew forward a slight young girl, who had been almost hidden behind the bath mistress.

"Speak then, my child," Baba Hassan said in kindly tones to Refet, who looked half terrified to be in the august presence of the chief eunuch of the dey's palace.

"I am Turkish," the girl began. "The two janissaries spoke in that tongue, for it is their natural language. The older one does not trust the dey because he will not give him an allegiance, but Aruj Agha swore the dey could be trusted, thereby soothing the other man's fears. Nonetheless, the visitor told Aruj Agha that if the dey betrays them, Aruj Agha must kill the dey. He agreed. Then the older man asked for a woman for his bed tonight. That is all, sir."

"Thank you," Baba Hassan said, and dismissed the two from his presence. Then he sat down to consider what he would do. Of course the woman who pleasured their visitor must be carefully chosen. As the dey was little interested in his harem currently, perhaps he would allow two of his own women to entertain the two janissaries. India, of course, could not be part of the evening, but Samara would be happy to be at the dey's side. And sweet Mirmah, who had once belonged to Aruj Agha, would be his again for this night. The passionate flame-haired Sarai would certainly please Hussein Aga. Who knew what information the clever Sarai might extract from this man in the throes of passion.

Baba Hassan arose, and went to his master. The dey was with his wife, and it was obvious they had recently made love. The chief eunuch bowed low, hiding a smile. Then he told the dey what the bath attendant had overheard and the plan he had devised for the evening. "It is better, my lord, that the two women with the janissaries be those we can trust. If, however, you do not choose to share these two women from your own harem, then I shall send for two skilled courtesans from the town who I know are loyal."

Caynan Reis laughed softly, and his eyes twinkled as he said, "Nay, Baba Hassan, my poor ladies have been most neglected of late, as I seem to be otherwise occupied with my beautiful wife. Send my own women, and let Hussein Aga believe I have honored him."

"But why must Samara take my place by my husband's side?" India demanded. "Would it not also do honor to our visitor from Istanbul that the dey's wife ate with him?"

"If this were an ordinary evening, my lady," Baba Hassan told her, "I should not have suggested Samara accompany our lord, but this is a dangerous situation. Outside of the palace, few know your face. It is better for you to be invisible to this man from Istanbul."

"I agree," the dey replied, "especially in light of the news my wife has given me this very afternoon."

"My lord!" Baba Hassan's face broke wide with his smile. "Is there to be a child? Ahhhh! This is what we have all prayed for, my lord dey!" He turned to India. "May Allah rain blessings upon you, my lady India! May I tell Azura?"

India laughed happily. "I am not entirely certain, never having had a child, but as the eldest of my mother's children, I believe I recognize the signs. Yes, Baba Hassan, you may tell Azura, and the ladies as well, for it will give them some hope of entertaining my husband again. It might also take the sting from my choosing only three of the seven this evening to entertain the janissaries. If it were I doing the deciding, however, Baba Hassan, I should give this agent of the janissaries two ladies to amuse himself with, for he will surely suspect if only one is sent that she is a spy. Two, though, bespeaks the dey's generosity. I do not believe a fool would have been dispatched upon such a delicate mission. Why not give him Nila as well as Sarai? He will be so overwhelmed with their voluptuous pulchritude, he will not have time to consider anything other than how to gain the most pleasure from those two beauties."

"You plot like a valideh," the chief eunuch said admiringly. "With my lord's permission it shall be done, my lady India."

"Do as my wife suggests," the dey agreed. "Is she not clever, Baba Hassan? What sons I shall have of her!"

"It might just as easily be a daughter," India replied. "My mother had me before my brother, Henry."

"A daughter would please me, too, as long as she is as beautiful as her mother," the dey declared gallantly, and, catching up India's hand, he kissed it passionately. "However, I hope this first child will be a son, my precious, not just for me, but for El Sinut."

"Mama has five sons," India told him with the hint of a smile. Then she said, "You must be prepared for your evening, my lord. A bath, I think, for the day has been hot. If that vixen, Samara, attempts to seduce you, though, I shall have her bow-strung!"

Baba Hassan withdrew chuckling, and made his way to Azura's apartments where he shared the happy news that India was with child.

"Praise Allah!" Azura said, clapping her hands together. Then she smiled at the chief eunuch. "We have been so fortunate, Baba Hassan, haven't we? India is the perfect first wife for Caynan Reis."

"Now, let me tell you the rest," he replied, and went on to explain the decisions that had been made regarding the harem ladies.

"I will instruct Sarai and Nila myself," Azura said when he had finished. "Mirmah will be told only to keep Aruj Agha content. I think she retains a weakness for him yet, despite the fact she has been in the dey's household for several years. As for Samara, you must deal with her yourself. I lose my patience with her, Baba Hassan, and she will not be pleased that her evening is to end when the dey withdraws for the night."

"I know how to handle her," the chief eunuch replied with a smile. "As long as her dignity is not trampled, she will obey."

The two janissaries arrived in the dey's dining chamber to be greeted by Mirmah, Nila, Sarai, and Samara, richly appareled in fragrant silks, their faces quite visible beneath diaphanous veils. The dey appeared immediately thereafter, smiling and gracious. He beckoned Samara to his side on the cushions. Aruj Agha, recognizing Mirmah, who sweetly snuggled against him, realized that these two women were from the dey's own harem, and was surprised.

"I considered that perhaps you would enjoy female company this night, Hussein Aga," the dey said. "These women are from my own household," he confirmed. "The flame-haired beauty on your right is called Sarai. She is extremely skilled in a variety of exotic arts. The golden-haired girl on your left is my own Nila. She is tireless, and will give you exquisite pleasure. My sweet Mirmah is Aruj Agha's companion. He gave her to me several years ago, and I thought he might enjoy her company again."

Hussein Aga was almost speechless. The two women sent to be his companions were a pair of the most luscious and sensual beauties as he had ever seen. Their romantic perfume assailed his nostrils. Lilies and roses. Unable to help himself, he ran a finger down Sarai's bare arm. Her skin was like Bursa silk. She smiled seductively at him, showing strong white teeth. Nila, vying for his attention, smiled into his eyes, running a pointed little pink tongue over her full lips. The janissary agent felt suddenly light-headed, and his male member hardened beneath his robes. Were these women spies who would attempt to extract secrets from him? He realized he didn't care, particularly when Sarai pressed a plump breast against his arm. "My lord dey," he finally managed to speak. "You honor me far more than I deserve. I have never known such fine females as these two. They are incomparable!"

"My long friendship with Aruj Agha has always made me favorable toward the corps," the dey said sincerely. "I shall anticipate your return from the other states, Hussein Aga. Enjoy my women. I fear I have ignored them since my recent marriage."

"Indeed you have," Samara said boldly, her red lips pouting. "Has he not, ladies? It is difficult for us to compete with the lady India. She is most beautiful, accomplished, and charming. Even we cannot dislike her. Still, now she is with child and we shall soon have our chance with our good lord again, eh?"

The other women giggled, and nodded eagerly.

"Your wife is to give you a son then?" Aruj Agha smiled warmly at his friend. "Allah has surely blessed you, Caynan." Then he chuckled. "When I think of the first day she arrived in El Sinut! May I tell Hussein Aga the tale? It is a most amusing one."

"Of course," the dey replied, smiling himself with the memory of a fiery and defiant India. As Aruj Agha began to speak, the dey signaled to his servants to begin serving the meal.

There was a wonderful thick soup of lentils, which was accompanied with a hot seasoning of red pepper, salt and garlic; a couscous covered in a spicy sauce filled with vegetables and chunks of beef; a lamb that had been grilled on a spit, as well as three chickens stuffed with almonds, raisins, and rice. There were bowls of purple, black, and green olives in herbed oil, and cucumbers in vinegar. Flat bread, warm from the ovens, was offered the guests. There were bowls of yogurt with peeled green grapes, and a platter with a steamed bass, caught that very morning, lying amid a bed of fennel and carved lemons. Finally a dessert called khtayef, consisting of nuts, honey, and sugar in thin layers of pastry was served along with cups of mint tea. A large silver salver of fresh fruit, consisting of green and red grapes, sweet cut pink melons, peaches, apricots, pomegranates, figs, and sugared dates, was set upon the table so the dey's guests might help themselves. There were bowls of shelled almonds and pistachio nuts.

When all but the fruit and nuts had been cleared away, the dey clapped his hands for the entertainment to begin. A snake charmer came with his reed baskets of reptiles. He was followed by a troupe of sensual female dancers, who writhed and twisted themselves in a variety of movements to the high sound of a flute and the deep thump of drums, as they removed veil after veil in a teasing and tantalizing fashion until they were quite naked. Finally a young blind girl was led in, and seated, accompanied by three other women who played upon a rebec, reed pipe, and small drum as the girl sang sweetly passionate love songs.

Caynan Reis watched the janissaries as his women began a subtle seduction of the pair. Sarai's hand had already slipped between the folds of Hussein Aga's robes, and from the look on the man's face, she was as skillful as ever. After the girl had sung for a time, the dey raised his hand, saying, "I believe it is time for me to retire. I will personally see you off in the morning, Hussein Aga. Enjoy your night." Then, arising, Caynan Reis left the dining chamber with Samara, whom he escorted back to the harem. "You did well," he told the girl, kissing her softly upon the lips.

"I am a patient woman, my lord," she told him, dark eyes twinkling.

"Do not let my wife hear you saying things like that," he chuckled, and then brushed her lips a final time. "Sleep well, Samara."

She watched him retreat down the dim corridor, a smile upon her lips. Soon the lady India would grow fat with her child, and the dey would seek the diversion of his harem. She would be favored once again. Baba Hassan had assured her it was bound to happen, and it would. Finally Samara turned away and entered the fountain court.

Caynan Reis had felt her stare as he walked down the long hallway to Baba Hassan's quarters. He needed to speak with his chief eunuch now if his plan was to be put into action. He hurried into the eunuch's apartments. "Baba Hassan," he said without any preamble to his advisor, who was seated upon a divan enjoying his water pipe. "I have a plan that will keep El Sinut from treason, and, give me what I want." He sat down in a chair of carved cedar with a leather seat.

"And what exactly is it that you want, my lord?" the eunuch asked his master, putting down his water pipe, his look attentive and curious.

"The janissaries' plot will fail. They always fail. The Sublime Porte will seek revenge, and it will be more prudent for them to revenge themselves upon the Barbary States than upon those who are truly responsible."

"That is truth, my lord dey," Baba Hassan agreed.

"But what if El Sinut exposed the janissaries' plot before they had an opportunity to enact it?" the dey inquired. "Would not the valideh be grateful? Would she not want to reward her loyal dey of El Sinut? Would she not give him this tiny kingdom in gratitude if he but asked her? Tribute would still be paid, and fealty given to the sultan, but El Sinut would be mine, and my family's forever."

Baba Hassan was silent for several long moments. His look was a thoughtful one. He was obviously considering his master's words very carefully. At last he spoke. "It is dangerous, my lord. Very dangerous. Yet there is danger also in knowing of this plot, and not notifying Istanbul of its existence. While you should make a friend of the sultan and his mother, you will make deadly enemies of the janissaries. We know from the bath attendant, Refet, that Aruj Agha has been ordered to kill you should you betray the corps; and that he has said he would."

"I believe he said it to pacify Hussein Aga," the dey replied. "Our friendship is an old and valued one. Aruj Agha will not kill me."

"My lord, one thing you have never really comprehended about your friend. Aruj Agha's first loyalty is to the corps of janissaries. His grandfather was a janissary, and his uncle is one. He was taken from his family in Bosnia when he was a little boy, and raised in the prince's school in Istanbul. Even at his mother's knee, the lesson of loyalty to the corps was drummed into him. It is a lesson without end. His first ranking was as a gardener in the sultan's palace. The gardeners there are the royal executioners. They are all young men eager to prove their worth, not so much to the sultan, but to the corps, and to their officers. To date, you two have never really been in conflict, but do not ask Aruj Agha to change loyalties, to take your part over that of the corps of janissaries. He will not do it even if he believes the hierarchy wrong. You must not ever trust him again if you decide to do this thing."

"What choice do I have, Baba Hassan?" Caynan Reis asked his friend and advisor. "The other states will jump at the opportunity to be free from Istanbul and its tribute. If Hussein Aga returns to me, I must pledge my aid. If I do not, I will be counted their enemy, and they will seek to assassinate me. The Sublime Porte will be only too happy to use me as their scapegoat. El Sinut being small, they can afford to punish us, while the other states are large, and could prove troublesome. I am caught between two fires.

"On the other hand, if I expose the janissaries' plot I have a better chance of remaining alive. I will ask that the sultan remove the janissaries from El Sinut once we are independent. I will form my own guard to protect me. El Sinut will belong to me, and to my sons and my sons' sons. It is worth the risk. Tell me if there is another way, Baba Hassan, that I can keep us all safe."

"There is no other way, my lord. It will be as Allah wills it," the eunuch replied fatalistically.

Caynan Reis nodded wearily. "Now, my old friend, how do we approach the valideh in Istanbul? You will have a way, I am certain."

"We will use two paths, my lord. Our chances will be better at reaching the sultan's mother in time if we do. I have several pigeons, a gift to me from the Agha Kislar of the royal household. Most men in my position hold these birds. We will release three to make their way back to the capital with our message. I shall also send by ship the gift of two young boys to the sultan. They will be accompanied by my most trusted aide, Ali-Ali. He will carry a personal message to the Agha Kislar from me."

"What if he attempts to read your message?" the dey asked.

"The message will be in a code known only to the Agha Kislar, and those to whom he entrusts his messenger birds. It is a good system."

"Why are you sending young boys instead of beautiful girls?" the dey wondered.

"The valideh has encouraged her son in his youth to enjoy the company of boys over girls. That way, no beautiful young creature will arise to challenge the valideh's control over the sultan by either her erotic wiles or by giving the sultan a son of his own. In time, of course, that will change, but our way into favor is through pretty young boys right now, and not pretty young girls."

"How will we know that the sultan has received our warning, Baba Hassan? And will he receive it in time?" Caynan Reis asked.

"We will not know until Ali-Ali returns, my lord. I regret that is the fact of it, but remember, it will take many weeks for Hussein Aga to complete his mission and return to El Sinut. Then he has a voyage to Istanbul. The pigeons I release in two days' time know only to fly to their home in the Yeni Serai. That is how they are trained. They do not forget their way. That is why the Agha Kislar will return the birds to me when Ali-Ali rejoins us, and we will outflank the traitorous janissaries."

"I understand, but why are you waiting two days to send the birds on their way, Baba Hassan? Should they not be sent at first light tomorrow?"

"Because, my lord, Hussein Aga is undoubtedly aware of the Agha Kislar's pigeons. What if he saw one on the wing as he left the palace or the harbor? These pigeons are quite unique. They are white with black-and-white markings and very pink feet, not your ordinary garden-variety bird that one sees upon the roofs of the town, or cadging tidbits in the marketplace. They are recognizable to the knowledgeable, so we will wait until this agent of the janissaries has restarted his journey and is away from El Sinut. We must be extremely cautious in this matter."

"Agreed," the dey said, and then he arose. "Only Azura can know of our plan, Baba Hassan."

"Your wife must know as well," the chief eunuch advised. "She is a clever girl, and will be of use to you if she is aware of all that is going on in this situation."

"But what of the child? Will she not endanger the child?"

"Not knowing is more dangerous, my lord. She is a passionate lady with a great imagination. If she worries, and frets from a position of ignorance, she is more apt to harm her baby. The true knowledge of what is happening will give her courage and strength. After all, my lord, you seek El Sinut for your son, but the child is her son as well. You must not forget that. Women grow irritated, and justly so, when a man behaves as if his son is his alone, and only his doing. Particularly after a wife has carried her child within her own body for almost a year's time."

"How can you have such wisdom, Baba Hassan?" the dey inquired. "There have never been any children in this palace. At least not in my time, or our lord Sharif's time."

"In my youth," the eunuch said, "I served upon the young ikbal of a former sultan in the harem of the Yeni Serai itself, my lord. Such a large place, and there were many children, including the daughter of my young mistress. Of course, that was the girl's downfall, and her salvation, having a daughter. But the sultan was no longer interested in her once she was with child, and if the truth be known, she was a pretty but stupid creature. The female infant she birthed was just one of many little girls born to the sultan. My mistress became a troublemaker. She was finally sent with her child to the Eski Serai, the old palace. I was reassigned to accompany the lady Azura to El Sinut, as a gift from the sultan, to his most loyal dey, Sharif. That is how I can tell you about breeding women and their infants," the chief eunuch finished with a deep chuckle. "I have learned much in my fifty years, my lord."

"I must bow to your wisdom," the dey said with a small smile.

Baba Hassan chuckled again. "I am at your service always, my lord dey."

In the morning, Caynan Reis met with Hussein Aga before the agent of the janissaries departed the palace for his ship. "Was your evening a pleasant one, Hussein Aga?" the dey asked his guest pleasantly, noting the older man looked as if he had not slept a great deal.

"Never have I known such a night!" was the enthusiastic reply. "The dey of Algiers will surely not be able to equal your hospitality, nor the dey of Tunis. I shall look forward with much anticipation to my return visit. Both Sarai and Nila are houriis without parallel!" He bowed low to the dey.

"I am glad we have been able to offer you a pleasant diversion in your travels," was the smooth reply, and the dey bowed slightly. "May Allah guide you, and give you a safe journey. I shall await your return to El Sinut. Farewell, Hussein Aga."

Dismissed, the janissary exited the room.

"And did you enjoy your companion last night, Aruj Agha?" the dey asked, turning to his friend.

"I did. As always, she is a pleasure to bed, Caynan, but why were you so generous to Hussein Aga? From what he has told me, your two women almost killed him with pleasure. Were you attempting to slay him?"

"Only with kindness so he would not take offense that I did not pledge allegiance to the janissaries' plot against the sultan," was the answer. "How can I unless the others do so first?"

"But you will pledge us fealty if the larger states do?" Aruj Agha probed his friend.

"You know I will do what is best for El Sinut," the dey said sincerely. "Have I not always? And have I not always respected and supported the corps?"

"You have indeed," Aruj Agha said, placated. "That is what I told Hussein Aga in the baths yesterday when he expressed doubts of your loyalty."

The dey clapped his friend upon the back. "We are like two draft animals, harnessed together, my friend," he said. "Between us we have kept El Sinut prosperous and safe. I am a good administrator, but I could not have ruled without your cooperation. May it always be so."

"As Allah wills it," Aruj Agha agreed.

"How go the repairs on your vessel?" the dey inquired.

"Well. We should be able to set sail in another month, and Osman is working very hard to prepare his round ship for service. I believe we shall go out together the first time. I mean to allow him to captain the Sultan Murat, but, of course, my troop of janissaries will be aboard."

"It is customary for janissaries to be aboard our ships," the dey said calmly. "I think you wise to take a seasoned captain, and restore him to his rank. My wife will be pleased you do honor to her cousin."

And India was indeed delighted with the news. "Perhaps when we send the janissaries packing," she said, "my cousin will help you form your new guard, my lord. There are many good men from Europe who might welcome such an opportunity."

"You must be more discreet, my precious," he advised. "Nothing has been graven in stone yet, and we must not tip our hand." He sighed. "I regret that I dare not trust Aruj Agha in this matter, but Baba Hassan is right. My friend's loyalty is to the corps of janissaries."

"Perhaps when the time comes, he will see the wisdom in your actions," India attempted to sooth her husband. The dey truly enjoyed this one male friend with whom he hunted in the hills and, until India had come, played chess. It would be lonely for Caynan when Aruj Agha was sent back to Istanbul, but certainly her cousin, Tom Southwood… Osman, might take his place. She wished she might see Tom, but now it was no longer possible. At least not until he was admitted to the dey's inner circle as a trusted captain, as well as the relation of the dey's first wife.

Thomas Southwood had heard that the dey had made India his wife. He was relieved she had gotten some common sense, and was protected. He had no doubt that, given the chance, she would want to return to England, and he intended that, when he went, she would go, too. He had promised it to her those many months ago, and how could he justify leaving her behind to the family? Enough of their female relations had been in the same situation as India, and they had returned home. There was no great tra-rah over it. India's fat dowry would erase any number of sins in the eyes of a titled husband. Particularly one in the highlands who would have never heard of El Sinut. He had no doubt both India's grandmother and her mother knew of ways of making what was broken quite whole again. India's husband would have no doubt as to his bride's virginity.

Tom Southwood had been patient. He understood that if he wanted to succeed he had to bide his time. How many poor fools had attempted escape from captivity in the Barbary States and ended up dead? He had counseled those of his crewmen who had remained with him to practice forbearance. They were not ill-treated, and indeed, except for being confined to certain areas, they suffered not at all. "It is a great adventure you will tell your grandchildren in Devon one day," he assured them. "Learn everything you can from the place. Enjoy the women. Enjoy the food. Enjoy the sun, and the warmth. I will get us back to England!"

And while he kept their spirits up, he thought carefully of how they would make their escape. To be successful, the planning must be faultless. There was so much involved. He ruminated over and over again on it like a cow with a cud. The lighthouse keepers would have to be incapacitated so they could not raise an alarm. The great chain between the two lighthouses at the harbor's entrance would have to be lowered, and then raised again. Most believed the chain was raised only when an attack on El Sinut was thought to be imminent. Few realized it was raised each night to protect El Sinut from a surprise onslaught. It had been the state's policy as long as anyone could remember that vessels were not welcome in El Sinut's harbor either before sunrise or after sunset.

The hardest thing, however, would involve getting into the palace by stealth to bring India and her servant girl out. Tom Southwood had learned that his cousin's personal servant was a Scottish girl, the daughter of a ship's captain killed when his vessel was taken. Few of that crew had survived, but three had ended up in El Sinut, and one had been wise enough to accept Islam. He had been assigned to "Osman's" crew. It was from this seaman, Captain Southwood had discovered India's serving maid was one of them. She would therefore be rescued as well, but how he was going to do it was a difficult problem.

And Adrian Leigh. He was another problem. There was simply no way they could rescue him, as he was chained to his oar with several other men. To attempt to free Viscount Twyford would endanger their plan, for his shipmates would want to come, too, and then so would all the other galley slaves on Aruj Agha's ship. Many of them were unsavory types, and uncontrollable. They would want to rape and pillage El Sinut before departing. Such rash behavior would destroy any chances they had of making a clean escape. It just couldn't be done, and he hoped that India would not be too distressed over it. They would, of course, notify young Leigh's family as to his whereabouts when they returned to England. It would be up to them to ransom the young man then, but at least they would know where he was.

Slowly and carefully Tom Southwood set everything in place. His men were primed, and ready to go. It was just a matter of time. They had to pick the right time, for he knew they would only get one chance. If they failed, they would be killed. And their deaths would not be easy or pleasant ones. He had seen what had happened to men who attempted to escape their captivity here on the Barbary coast. He did not intend such a death to happen to him, or to any of his men. He would be as patient now that the moment approached as he had been over these past months. Then he would succeed, and they would be home in England within a year of their having been gone.

"Soon," he told his men. "It will be soon. I feel it in my bones. Each one of you knows your task when I give you the word. There can be no mistakes, men."

And then Thomas Southwood saw the perfect opportunity.

Chapter 14

India lay naked in her husband's arms, smiling up at him. "I understand you wanting to hunt, and camp in the hills with Aruj Agha for a few days," she told him sweetly. "I have five brothers, and many uncles and cousins, my lord. Hunting is a man's sport."

He caressed her beautiful breasts lightly, watching with pleasure as her nipples responded. "Did you ever hunt with the men?" he asked her. "I had heard women in your land enjoy the hunt."

"Some do. My mother and my younger sister both enjoyed riding off with my father and brothers to spend a day on the hills or in the forest, but I never really enjoyed such sport." Twisting herself about, she licked the flesh of his belly, then looked up at him seductively. "This is the sport I favor," she murmured.

"You are insatiable," he said, laughing softly and pulling her back into his embrace where he might continue to caress her. She had the loveliest body, and being just newly with child, that body had not yet begun to change. Her belly was yet flat, and her rounded limbs in perfect proportion. The only change he could see was in her breasts, which had become a bit rounder, and the nipples more sensitive. He pulled her about so that she sat upon his thighs, facing him, and, leaning forward, he took one of those nipples into his mouth, his hand holding the breast to which it belonged firmly in his grasp.

Her senses were atingle. Her nipple was like a small stone niblet, yet so sensitive that she could feel most distinctly his tongue encircling it over and over again. And when she thought she could bear no more of his teasing, he pushed her further, suckling hard upon her nipple while he pushed a single finger between her plump nether lips to find her pleasure place. India's head was whirling as her entire being was suddenly focused in a different area. The finger pressed gently, and then began to graze the sentient softness until it stiffened, and she was moaning helplessly as the swells of hot delight began to overwhelm her, sweeping through her body and wracking her with shudders of pleasure.

"You devil!" she half groaned at him. "Do you enjoy torturing me? Cease! Cease! I am close to fainting!"

Laughing, he pushed her onto her back and covered her body with his own, his lips nibbling at her mouth. "Aye, I enjoy torturing you, you exquisite creature." He rubbed himself suggestively against her. "I shall not allow you the upper hand tonight, my precious. I far too much enjoy your cries of satisfaction. His hungry kiss caught her unawares as he pushed his manhood into her trembling body. He filled her full, gently thrusting to and fro. "Do you enjoy this torture, India, my love?" He kissed her again.

She tightened herself about him, pulling her head away from him and demanding boldly, "And do you enjoy this torture, my lord?" Her legs wrapped themselves about his torso, squeezing him outwardly every bit as much as she was squeezing him inwardly.

"Ahhhh, bitch! You mean to kill me, do you?"

"Think of me when you are camped in the damp hills, my lord," she taunted him suggestively. "In the dark of night, remember my warmth."

He began to move fiercely upon her. "And you remember my passion as you lay alone in your bed, my precious India," he said, his mouth once more taking hers in an almost cruel kiss.

She could hardly breathe. For a moment it seemed as if his lips were all there were in the world-and it was enough! She could feel the tensions building within her fevered body. Building and building until it burst in a wild frenzy and they collapsed in each other's arms, sated for the moment. India lay against his chest listening as his heartbeat eased slowly from its rapid pulse to a calmer thump. She rubbed her cheek against his skin. It was smooth and damp with his relieved lust. And his fragrance. Warm and musky. She had been surprised to discover that men had their own scent, and his was not unpleasant. Rather, it had become familiar and comforting. "I love you, Caynan," she murmured, kissing his nipple with a sigh.

His arm tightened about her. "I love you," he responded. Ah, yes, he did love her. So much so that he intended keeping his promise to her when he returned from the hunt. He had recently found a Protestant minister in the town, a gentle Lutheran, who had agreed to marry the dey to his first wife and keep the secret of their Christian marriage.

"I understand well, my lord, the need for silence. It would weaken your position should it be known you yielded to a woman's plea. Still, Allah will bless you for it. It is obvious you respect God no matter the way in which he is worshipped." Then the old minister smiled conspiratorially. "I respect God in his many incarnations, too, which is why I am in El Sinut. I am not a man for strict doctrine which gave great distress to my superiors. I was put here to help redeem Protestant captives. It was my bishop's way of keeping me from corrupting the innocent," he concluded with a merry chuckle.

The dey had smiled at the kind old minister. "I appreciate your discretion," he said. "It will make India happy, and it is important to me that she is happy. We will come to you in a few days, for it is easier for me to bring her in secret from the palace than if you were seen within my home. And in return, Pastor Haussler, you will always have access to me in the matter of Protestant captives to be ransomed."

The minister had thanked him profusely, tears in his eyes, and the dey returned to the palace. Aye, they would be wed, as he knew India's parents would want it that way. And there was something else. He intended to tell India that he was English. That he was Deverall Leigh, Adrian's half-brother, and the true heir to the earl of Oxton. He knew this would come as a shock to her, but he also knew that she would believe him when he told her he did not murder Charles Jeffers. That he had been accused unjustly, and, being young, fled, rather than remain to prove his innocence, if indeed he could have proved it. After all, it had been his knife that appeared to have done the deed. A dagger of which he was extremely proud because it had come from his mother's family. A dagger well known to be his prized possession. India would understand. And then he would pay a ransom for Adrian out of his own coffers, and send his half-brother to his uncle in Naples. Whatever the lad did afterward was his business, but he suspected Adrian would not go home to England immediately for fear of the duke of Glenkirk. And finally, when India had delivered their child, he would allow her to write to her parents. He would not let them suffer as his father had been forced to suffer all these years. Looking down on his wife he stroked her dark curls gently as she slept.

When the morning came, she climbed sleepily from her bed to bathe him, a chore she refused to relinquish, saw that he ate a hearty breakfast, and walked with him, properly veiled, into the courtyards to see him off with Aruj Agha. The janissary bowed low to her, and India nodded graciously in his direction.

"Keep my husband safe from danger, kapitan," she said.

"I will, my lady India," he told her with a smile.

Reentering the palace, she was met by Samara, who took her by the hand and said, "Come to the harem. Nila and Sarai are going to tell us how they entertained the visitor from Istanbul. They have saved the tale for just such a time as this so we might all be amused and enlightened, although I doubt there is anything they could tell me that I do not already know," she concluded smugly.

India would have preferred to refuse, for she wanted to be alone but knew to do so would offend. So she allowed Samara to lead her into the fountain court, where the women were already seated awaiting her. Mirmah immediately arose, and called out to India.

"Come, my lady, and sit here." She led India to a comfortable divan, insisting she put her feet up. "I have heard it is good to do so when you are with child," she said.

When the women were finally all settled, and cakes, fruit, and sherbet had been offered, Samara said impatiently, "Well?"

Sarai laughed her smoky laugh. "We all know that a manhood comes in three lengths: the smallest being called the little fish, the medium-sized being the naughty monkey, and finally the largest being called the stallion. Hussein Aga was none of these."

The women gasped with surprise.

"What was he?" Deva finally ventured.

"We nicknamed him the bull," Sarai replied with a wink.

"Never in all my days," Nila told them, "have I seen a manhood so large. This janissary was enormous! As we all know, our lord, the dey, is a stallion, and has a most magnificent weapon. None of us have ever been discontent with him, but Hussein Aga was huge, being both lengthy and thick set."

"And he was as randy as a billy goat," Sarai said. "We disrobed him, and when we had, he was already waving his banner at us!"

The women giggled, even India. She had not thought to enjoy this form of entertainment, but she was amused. "Go on. Go on," she encouraged the two women. "I am the virtual innocent in this room."

The others giggled again, and then Sarai continued.

"He had strong limbs, and a very broad chest. He put an arm around each of us, and walked with us to the bed. We lay him upon his back, and immediately sought to ease his excitement. He assured us, however, that he was a tireless lover. We should both be more than well satisfied by the dawn. We assured him then that he, too, would be quite gratified."

"I, then, began to caress him with my hair," Nila said. "He liked that, but he liked it even better when I took that lengthy rod within my mouth. I practically swallowed him whole, and he began to moan like a boy with his first woman. I would suckle him until he believed he would erupt, and then I would cease, and begin to lick at him. Finally, when he could take no more of such pleasure, I mounted him, absorbing slowly his great length. Allah! He filled me well!"

"He was half mad with lust by then," Sarai took up the tale. "His eyes were practically bulging from his head." She pouted. "Nila was having all the fun, and so I put my love box over his face, pressing my nether lips against his fleshy mouth, and rubbing. At first he didn't seem able to breathe, but then his tongue poked through, finding my pleasure place. It was a most clever tongue, eager and tireless. My love juices were very copious. He drank them like a man who has been lost in the desert for three days, his pointed tongue going beyond my pleasure place into my sheath, while his hot mouth devoured me. Nila and I entered Paradise at almost the same moment."

"And while she took her own pleasure from Hussein Aga, I rode him hard. His manhood was stiffer than any I have known previously, forcing itself deeper than any man has gone within me. I have never partaken of such fierce lust. I might have been fearful had it not felt so good. Before I closed my eyes and gave myself over to this dark pleasure, I could see his big hands, holding tightly on to Sarai's ivory bottom," Nila told them.

The other women were silent, their eyes wide with fascination.

"Go on," Samara finally managed to croak.

"Nila was weeping with pleasure, but the brute was not satisfied," Sarai told them. "He pushed her off his lance, and rolling me onto my back pistoned me until I was but half conscious. Only then did he explode his seed into me."

"Did you…" Leah began.

"Twice more in those moments," Sarai told them.

"You named him well," Laylu told the two women enviously.

"Tell us more," Mirmah demanded. "Did he take either of you as the janissaries are said to do?"

"Each of us," Nila told them, "but only once, for we did not like it, and reminded him we belonged to the dey who did not use us in such a fashion. Still, I have to admit, I found it exciting, yet too perverse."

"I did not," Sarai told them. "He was so big. I was afraid he would hurt me with that huge rod of his."

India looked puzzled. "I don't understand," she said.

"He entered them through their bottomholes," Samara said without any pretensions of delicacy. "Janissaries are raised without the company of women. They are known, when young, to experiment erotically upon one another. Later, of course, they know women, but not as boys. It is unhealthy for a boy, once his jewels have formed and matured, to pen up his juices. There is little harm in what they do."

"I think it is awful!" India said with a shudder.

The other women, but for Samara, nodded. She, however, smiled knowingly. "A woman must do that which pleasures her lord no matter her own tastes. I deny our lord, the dey, nothing of my person." It was meanly said.

India was stricken for a moment.

"She but babbles like a brook," Sarai said to the dey's wife, and then she glared at Samara. "Your tongue is so acid that you could engrave brass pots with it. None of us have ever received the dey in such a fashion, and you know it, Samara. Do not distress our mistress."

Samara shrugged, but said nothing else, leaving the inference to lie writhing in India's mind.

"She is a terrible liar," Mirmah whispered. "We know our master every bit as much as she does, and he does not do such things."

"I want to make him happy," India said softly.

"You have," Mirmah replied. "You are to give him a child, and that, Samara will never be able to do. She is bitter. Do not mind her, my lady India."

Mirmah's kind words revived India's spirit, and she said, "Go on with your tale, ladies. I am learning much just listening to you. I shall attempt to put into practice very soon much of what you have told me this day. Some of it sounds very wicked."

"There is nothing wicked in pleasing a man," Deva said. "Particularly if you receive pleasure in return."

The women all nodded, and Sarai and Nila took up their story once again. They spoke of kisses and caresses, of how the janisssary had asked them to make love to each other, and been aroused quickly by the sight, taking them each in turn immediately afterward. He had been as tireless as they had been. Baba Hassan had seen to several basins and love cloths, as well as a decanter of a restorative liquid the trio imbibed throughout the night, until finally, an hour before the dawn, they had all fallen asleep.

"He says he will have us when he returns to El Sinut," Sarai told them with amusement. "I wonder if the dey will be so generous again. He told us he was only giving us to this man in order to placate him temporarily. I do not think he will do it again."

"Aye," Nila agreed. "There is a limit to our master's hospitality."

India remained within the harem to have supper with the ladies, returning to her own apartments in Azura's company later in the evening. Meggie hurried to prepare her mistress for bed.

"She is a good servant," Azura noted as the girl bustled about.

"Baba Hassan chose well," India agreed.

"You are happy?" the older woman said.

"Very happy," India assured her. "Ohh, Azura! I love him! I would not have thought such a thing possible. A year ago I was but a spoiled child, but now I am different because of him. Oh, yes! I am happier than I have ever been in my entire lifetime."

"I am happy to hear you say so, India," Azura answered the dey's young wife. "I will be frank with you, but perhaps you have already suspected it. Baba Hassan, and I somehow knew you were the perfect wife for Caynan Reis, and we strove hard to make you see it, too."

India laughed. "It did occur to me, but only when I realized my love for him, Azura." She flung herself into the older woman's embrace. "He is the son you never had, isn't he?"

"Aye, he is," Azura admitted.

"Mama has always said that one's life is planned even before one is born. No wonder I could not find a husband to suit me in England or Scotland. Caynan Reis was here in El Sinut. If I had not been so silly as to run away with Adrian Leigh, I should have never found my only true love, Azura. How strange life is."

The older woman hugged India, and placed a kiss upon her brow. "Allah who sees all, and knows all, led you to us, my daughter." Then her tone grew brisk, and she released India from her embrace. "You have had a long day. Let your little servant help you into bed. You carry the heir to El Sinut, and he must be protected. Eh?"

India nodded, smiling contentedly.

The next day passed quietly, but the weather, usually sunny, was overcast, a rarity in October. Storm clouds appeared over the sea in midmorning, and, by late afternoon, had swept into El Sinut with a driving rainstorm and much thunder. The town was virtually deserted, and even the intrepid stall owners in the marketplace had closed down.

"We go tonight," Tom Southwood told his men.

"In this storm, Captain?" Jeremiah James, the second mate, asked.

"They are not used to having such storms in autumn here, and they will all keep to their houses until the morning when it has passed completely. It is the best time, Mr. James. We've sailed in far worse blows than this one. No. It's indeed a perfect time."

"What are we going to do with the El Sinut crewmen, Captain?" Francis Bolton, his first mate, inquired. "In all this planning it is the one thing you haven't told us. If we're going tonight, we need to know now."

"I've thought long and hard on it, Mr. Bolton," Thomas South-wood said. "I considered giving them leave because of this storm, but there is always the chance one or more of them might return to the ship, find it gone, and raise the alarm. I considered killing them, but I don't really want to do that if I can avoid it. Our only option is to capture each of them over the next hour or so, bind and gag them, and throw them in the hole. We will leave them with the lighthouse keepers after we have cleared the harbor. By the time any of them gets loose, or is discovered, we will be well out to sea, and away from El Sinut."

"And her ladyship?" Knox, the steward, queried.

"You, Mr. James, and I will rescue my cousin and her servant from the palace as soon as it gets dark, Knox. Mr. Bolton, you will have charge of the ship until we get back. If we do not return an hour before dawn, leave, sail the Royal Charles home to England, and tell my family what has transpired. At least they will know where lady India is."

"How will you get into the palace, Captain?" Knox asked his master. "We ain't going to just walk in, are we?"

Thomas Southwood laughed. "No, Knox. We aren't going to walk in at all. We're going to climb a wall. I have converted two of our smaller anchors into grapnels. They will aid us in climbing over the dey's palace wall. You, however," the captain told his horrified steward, "will await Mr. James and me on the street side of the wall, and help the ladies when we bring them down."

His three companions looked askance, and so Thomas Southwood continued with a more detailed explanation.

"For months I have been going in and out of the palace, always looking, always studying it for a weakness. The dey's living quarters and his harem are located within an inner court. It would appear that none of its walls is located on an outer avenue. I mentioned this to Aruj Agha, noting it was cleverly done, and similar in design to early English castles. He told me in confidence that the structure was similar to the sultan's palace in Istanbul, but that it did have one small weakness. A far corner in the dey's own private garden, just about three feet of wall space, faced on its far side into a small alley, off a quiet little residential street.

"When I asked why the alley had not been blocked to protect such a vulnerable area, Aruj Agha told me that the wall was fifteen feet high, and always kept free of vines and any other growth that might aid a trespasser. Besides, he said, no one had ever realized what was behind that high wall, and the alley was so remote from the main square of the town that not even the street beggars knew of it. I have walked this city each time we put into port, seeking that little cul-de-sac. I found it only recently."

"Are you certain, Captain, that it is the correct wall?" Mr. Bolton, the first mate, asked him.

"Positive," was the reply. "I went only a few days ago into the hills above the city. When I found a good vista, I sat down and studied the palace. Eventually I found that little susceptible space. I had brought a small glass with me. Then I followed the wall, observing the street niche, letting my eye take note of certain landmarks. When I returned to the town, I went immediately to the alley, and matched what I had marked perfectly. I have the correct location, Mr. Bolton."

"Is Aruj Agha aware of what he told you?" the careful Mr. Bolton persisted. "Ye're sure it ain't no trap yer walking into?"

Thomas Southwood shook his head. " 'Tis no trap, Francis. Aruj Agha is proud of his status not only as the janissary agha in El Sinut, but as the dey's confidant. He is a good soldier, he has a good heart, he is loyal to a fault, but he is prone to bragging about his knowledge and his importance. He did not, I assure you, even realize what he had said, for I was careful not to arouse his suspicions by asking too many questions. Besides, both the dey and the agha are hunting up in the mountains beyond the city. They only left yesterday. Another reason this is the best time for us to make good our escape, and the rescue of my cousin, Lady India."

"Well, Captain," Mr. Bolton said, "you got it figured out just so, it would appear. God help and protect us all this night. I ain't so much worried once we get out to sea, especially with those cannons the janissaries have installed on the ship. We'll be a match for anyone, I'm thinking."

"Particularly if we flys the dey's banner here in the Mediterranean," Mr. James suggested. "Right now, this is a Turkish lake."

"Captain," Knox spoke softly. "Perhaps it might be wise to take yer lady cousin to her grandmother's in Italy rather than expose her to the long voyage home to England. Particularly as there's always the chance we might have to fight a battle or two along the way."

"You might be right, Knox," Thomas Southwood considered. "Aruj Agha will assume we have headed for Gibralter. It will not occur to him that we have gone to Naples. Lady India would be safe with her father's mother. Safer there than on the high seas with us. I think we will do just that. Good man, Knox!"

"Thank you, Captain," the steward said, flushing with pride.

"Time we got about the business of sorting the wheat from the chaff, Captain," Mr. Bolton remarked dryly.

"Aye, 'tis time," Thomas Southwood agreed.

The word was passed swiftly among the English and few Europeans who made up a portion of the crew. The El Sinut men were taken without incident, bound with strong cords, gagged with silk cloths, their eyes blindfolded with dark cloths. Then they were locked in the hole, chained three feet apart along the walls.

"You will be safe as long as you make no attempt to escape," Thomas Southwood told them sternly. "Any man foolish enough to try will be killed immediately. I will not be deterred, and neither will my men." He then left them in the fetid and damp darkness.

On the deck the rain still poured down as the thunder rumbled, interspersed by an occasional flash of lightning that brightened the skies briefly.

"How do we get to your alley, Captain?" Mr. James inquired.

"We'll take the horses assigned to the ship. They're in the dock-side stable with only a boy watching over them. I told the stableman he might go home and keep his wife company on this wet night. I said I expected she would be afraid, and he might comfort her. Then I winked at him broadly, and he could hardly wait to go. The boy is too young to ask questions, and has been fed drugged sweets. We'll only take three horses not to arouse any suspicion should someone actually be about in the streets. The women can ride pillion on our return. Let us go now," he said, picking up his cloak and tossing it about his shoulders. He hurried out the door, followed by Mr. James and the faithful Knox, leaving the first mate behind to watch over the ship.

"Good luck, Captain, and Godspeed," Mr. Bolton called softly after the trio.

The stable lad was only a visible lump in a pile of yellow straw, recognizable by his snores, a half-emptied basket of fruit and candies by his side, his face covered with the remains of pink Turkish paste. They saddled the three horses quietly, leading them from the stable and closing the door behind themselves. Mounting their animals, they followed Thomas Southwood as he led them in a circuitous route through the silent and empty streets of El Sinut. The rain continued to pour down as they finally gained the little alley, which indeed, as their captain had said, was practically invisible. They would have ridden right by it had not the captain been with them.

Entering the alley, they dismounted their horses, and Knox took the beasts in his charge as Thomas Southwood and Mr. James took the grapnels from their saddle horns. First one and then the other grapnel was flung upward, each one burying itself tightly by its fluked spikes into the top of the whitewashed wall. Without a word, the two men began to climb the wall, and when they had reached the top, they pulled their ropes up behind them, and dropped them on the wall's far side so they might descend. Almost immediately, they slid away and out of Knox's sight. The ship's steward waited nervously in the rain with the three horses, his heart hammering, starting nervously at a clap of thunder, but, remembering himself, calming the horses while praying beneath his breath.

Dropping into the garden, Thomas Southwood looked about him. He could see the palace on the far side of the area, and lights flickering through the carved screens that were enclosed by delicate arches. Reaching out, he wordlessly touched Mr. James's arm, indicating that his second mate should follow him. Silently the two men slipped along the graveled paths. It was as he had expected. There were no guards in the dey's private enclosure. He stopped, and listened. There was enough light now being emitted from behind the latticed screens for he and Mr. James to see each other. Thomas Southwood put a cautionary finger to his lips, and listened.

"Good night, my lady Azura," he heard India say, and a door closed firmly. "Meggie, run and fetch me my supper. I am ravenous."

"Yes, my lady," was the reply, and again the door opened and closed.

Motioning with his hand for his mate to remain where he was, Thomas Southwood slid a latticed screen softly aside and stepped into the room. "Good evening, India," he said softly.

India recognized his voice, and, stifling her cry, whirled about. "Tom Southwood! Are you mad?" she whispered. "If you are found here you will be killed, and I will have no power to save you!" Her beautiful face betrayed her anxiety for him.

"I have come to rescue you, India," he said. "I promised you I would take you with me when I left El Sinut. I am keeping my promise. We go tonight. I am told your servant is Scotch. We will take her, too."

"No," India said firmly. "I am married now, Tom, and I am content to remain here with my lord. Go now, before you are caught. I wish you good luck. Tell my family that I am happy."

"I am taking you with me, India," he said in a determined tone. "How can I return home to England without you?"

"Tom, try and understand me. I am happy. I love Caynan Reis. I am his wife. We went before the iman months ago. I will not desert my husband, and my family would certainly understand. Admittedly it has been an odd courting, but it is a perfect pairing, I swear to you," she told him. "Go now! I dare not ask how you gained entry here."

"You haven't changed at all," he said. "You are still as headstrong and stubborn as you ever were, India. I am not leaving without you. Now, fetch your jewel box if you so desire. We must go as soon as your servant returns. My second mate is waiting outside, and we will escort you to the ship. We must sail immediately while we have the cover of this unexpected storm from the north."

"My lord will come soon, and he will kill you," India lied.

"Caynan Reis is in the mountains with Aruj Agha," he answered. "Do you think I should have been so foolish as to enter this palace when your husband was here? And we could not have taken back the ship if Aruj Agha was among us. Hurry now!"

They both heard the footsteps at the same time. India grew pale, but Thomas Southwood stepped behind the carved door even as it opened, and Meggie bustled into the chamber. "I've brought your supper, my lady. Abu thought you would enjoy a nice hot soup tonight."

"Do not scream, Meggie," India said, taking the tray from her and setting it down on her cedar table.

The girl looked puzzled momentarily, and then her eyes widened as Thomas Southwood stepped into her line of vision. "My lady?"

"This is my cousin. He says he has come to rescue me, Meggie. I will not go with him, of course, but if you want to, I will not stop you. I know that you, like me, fret over your mother."

"There's nothing for me back in Scotland but me mam, and she probably thinks I am dead along with me da. It's better left that way, I'm thinking. Ian will hae wed wi Flora MacLean; and she'd make certain I was considered damaged goods. She always hated me because my Ian preferred me to her. Nay, I'll stay wi you, my lady."

"You are both coming with me," Thomas Southwood said, "and I'll have no further argument from either of you."

"If you do not leave now, Tom, I shall scream, and the guards will come," India told him stonily.

"Why can't you listen to reason?" he demanded of her.

"Why can you not believe me when I tell you I love Caynan Reis, and I am content to remain here in El Sinut?" she countered, glaring angrily at him. "Go, Tom! Go now!"

He turned away, and then, swinging about, suddenly hit her a blow on the chin, catching her as she collapsed to the floor. "Come on, lassie," he said to the shocked and wide-eyed Meggie as he moved through the open screen.

"Wait, sir! Let me get us cloaks, or we shall be soaked through with this rain, and the mistress catch her death," Meggie pleaded.

"Hurry, lassie," he told her.

Meggie bit her lip as she opened the trunk, drawing out two long, enveloping capes. Should she make a dash for the door, and alert the guards that this man was kidnapping the dey's wife, or should she just take the capes and follow along? This man was her mistress's blood relation. Would her lady thank her if the dey had him beheaded? It was a terrible quandary. Meggie finally decided that she didn't want anyone's death on her conscience. She put one of the capes about her own shoulders, and, bringing the other to where Thomas Southwood stood, she draped it over her unconscious mistress.

"Get a scarf, lassie," he commanded her, and she hurried to comply. "Don't be startled. My second mate is with me, and he'll help you."

She followed him and his companion across the garden to the farthest wall where two thick ropes hung down. There they stopped, and Mr. James, using the silk scarf, tied India's wrists together, and then lifted her up and put her arms about Thomas Southwood's neck.

"She's dead weight, Captain. It will be harder," he said.

"I know, Mr. James, but you heard her resisting me in her usual stubborn fashion. I had no choice but to clip her on the jaw. We could not stay any longer." He grasped the rope, and began to pull himself slowly and with great effort up the wall.

"Put your arms about me neck, lassie," the second mate said. "I can make it up sooner than he can, and we can help him, eh?"

Meggie obeyed him wordlessly, and, before she knew it, the mate was shinnying up the rope like a monkey despite the burden upon his back. He made her sit atop the wall and then, reaching down, helped his captain the final few feet. The ropes were then drawn up and thrown over the street side. The descent was far easier, and Meggie found herself on the ground before she knew it. To her surprise, another man was waiting, holding three horses.

"Is m'lady all right?" he whispered nervously.

"She didn't want to come, the silly wench," Thomas Southwood said. "I had to hit her for her own good to bring her along."

A rumble of thunder sounded above them, and the horses nickered and danced nervously.

"Let's get going," Thomas Southwood said as Mr. James lifted India from his back. He mounted his animal, and, reaching down, took India up upon his horse, cradling her in his arms, drawing her hood up to keep her from getting soaked.

Next to him the other two men had mounted their horses, and Meggie was riding pillion behind Mr. James. They began their return journey to the harbor, reaching it in what seemed like a rather brief time to the young servant girl. The horses were replaced in the stables by the captain and Mr. James, while Knox carried India aboard, followed closely by Meggie. He settled them in the captain's cabin.

"Where are we going, sir?" Meggie ventured.

"Why, home, lassie, God be willing," Knox said. "I have to lock you in until we clears the harbor. Tend to your mistress now. There's water and fruit on the table. I'm sorry we have no wine, but, as you know, they don't hold with spirits here." He closed the door behind him, and Meggie heard the key turn in the lock.

India had been placed upon the captain's bed, and now Meggie hurried to see if her mistress was returning to consciousness. Quickly she untied the lady's bound wrists. She gasped softly, and shook her head in disbelief at the purple bruise forming on India's jaw. "Oh, the brute!" the servant said coldly. "I hope my lady isn't angered at me for not crying out when I had the chance, but I couldn't live wi myself if I had hae the deaths of those three men on my conscience." She shook her head, and, going to the table, poured some water. Raising India up, she gently tried to force a little water down her throat. India coughed, and her golden eyes flew open.

"Meggie!" Her hand went to her jaw. "Ohh, that hurts." Her glance swept the cabin. "Where are we?" she asked her servant.

"Aboard ship, my lady. He hit you, and then carried you from the palace. Ohh, my lady! Had I cried for the guards they would have killed him, and he's your kin. I didn't know what to do!"

"It's all right, Meggie. I'll kill him myself," India said. "Have we left port yet?"

"They're getting under way now despite this storm," was the frightened reply. "That Knox has locked us in, I fear."

"Damnation!" India swore, and attempted to arise, but she fell back with a groan. "Allah! I'm so dizzy." Then her hands went protectively to her flat belly, but everything else seemed all right.

"Give it a few minutes, my lady," Meggie advised, "and then we'll try sitting you up. There ain't nothing we can do now anyhow."

"You must keep my secret, Meggie," India said meaningfully.

The young servant understood, and asked, "Why didn't you tell him, my lady? Then he would have left you in peace."

"I was going to if he continued to persist, but he turned away as if he would go. Then he suddenly pivoted about, and hit me. I did not have the chance," India said. "Now, what am I going to do? We are locked in, and Tom is too busy getting his ship under way. No. I must keep my secret for now. I will think of some way to escape him. I have escaped my family before."

"That Mr. Knox says we are going home to England, my lady," Meggie informed her mistress. "It will be weeks before we see land again. You have no place to escape to, I fear."

"I have learned patience in El Sinut," India said wisely. "When we arrive in London, we shall give my cousin the slip. My parents have shut up the London house, but I can get into Greenwood, and there is no staff there now but the gatekeeper and his wife. We can easily avoid them. I will get a message to my husband telling him where we are. It will all take time, and my child will probably be born before Caynan Reis can come for me, but he will come. I know it! In the meantime, however, I intend to give my cousin Thomas Southwood as difficult a time as possible," India concluded with a wicked chuckle. "The heroic fool treated me as if I was still a child, instead of a woman grown. He will pay for that piece of foolishness."

The ship moved slowly from its dock, edging its way in the choppy waters toward the channel that led between the two lighthouses guarding the harbor. The rain continued to beat down, the thunder booming, the jagged streaks of lightning flashing across the skies. When they had reached the vicinity of the two lighthouses, the sea anchor was thrown out. The longboats were launched, carrying four men each. The boats were rowed quickly to the lighthouses, beached, and then its occupants entered the lighthouses to take the two keeps prisoner, binding, gagging, and blindfolding them exactly as they had the sailors in their vessel's hole. A lantern signal indicated that both keepers were now incapacitated. While the longboats carrying two sailors each made their way back to the ship, the remaining two sailors at each lighthouse began to turn the winch to lower the chain guarding the harbor.

The longboats returned twice to each lighthouse carrying the captive seamen who were marched into the lighthouses only to have their legs rebound and their blindfolds refastened. Each of them was resettled at a distance from the others to prevent any possible contact that might lead to their premature escape. As they knew where they were, they were no longer frightened. The lighthouse doors were locked, and barred from the outside, the Royal Charles raised her sea anchor, sailed from the harbor, and once again moored itself, while the occupants of the two longboats moved their crafts to the sea side of the lighthouse islands, raised the harbor chain up to protect the entry, and rowed back to their ship in very choppy seas.

About them the storm continued to rage, the thunder and the lightning even more pronounced now as they hauled anchor a final time, and began to make their way out into the open sea. Leaving command of his regained vessel in Mr. Bolton's hands, Captain Thomas Southwood unlocked the door of his quarters and stepped inside, neatly dodging the pitcher of water his cousin Lady India Lindley hurled at him.

"Idiot! Allah help you when my husband learns what you have done! Aruj Agha will scour the seas for me at my lord's command! And when you are recaptured, Tom Southwood, and they lop your arrogant head from its shoulders, I shall feel not the slightest twinge of guilt!"

"Is this the thanks I get for rescuing you?" he demanded. "You are yet a spoiled child, India."

"I am nineteen, Tom," India told him, suddenly serious. "When my mother was nineteen, she had already had two husbands, two children, and was enceinte with a third. My grandmother had birthed my mother, and was about to have my uncle James at nineteen. There isn't a woman in this family who wasn't grown by nineteen. Why do you persist in treating me like a child, Thomas Southwood? I am a married woman, and quite content to be so. Why did you not listen to me when I said I didn't want to come with you? Why did you assume I was some mindless infant who needed your protection? Did I ask for it? Did you ask me if I wanted to be rescued? No! You invaded my home, brutalized me, and then carried me off. You are a well-meaning idiot, sir."

"I cannot take you back," he said wearily.

"I know that," she told him. "Do you think I would endanger these men who have planned and struggled to make good their escape? If Aruj Agha catches up with you, there will be no mercy. An example will have to be made. That is their way."

"Do you really love him, India?" he asked her, curious.

"Aye. Have I not said it over and over to you? I am the wife of the dey of El Sinut, and proud to be his wife."

"It wasn't a real marriage," he said, attempting to excuse himself. "It wasn't a Christian marriage, India, and you are a Christian."

"Aye, I am a Christian, but if you knew anything, really knew, about Islam, you would understand my marriage is quite valid. Besides, he was seeking a Protestant minister in El Sinut to marry us in my faith, although such a thing would have been done in secret. You were to be our witness, Thomas Southwood."

"He loves you that much?" Thomas Southwood was very surprised that Caynan Reis would endanger himself and his position in such a manner. "I think he only told you such a thing to ease your conscience, India. The sultan's dey in El Sinut would never risk a Christian marriage. It could mean his very life."

"He would have done it, and allowed nothing to happen to us. Did you know there is a plot by the janissaries against the young sultan? Their agent came to Caynan Reis, and sought his allegiance. He said he would only give it to them if the deys of Algiers and Tunis agreed. He sent this man on his way, and then sent word to Istanbul to the valideh of the plot. He intended asking the valideh for autonomy for El Sinut as a reward when she offered one, so that our sons would have their own lands," India told her startled cousin. "Do you think I should know these things if I was not my lord's beloved, and trusted by him? Do you think the harem women knew of all of this, Thomas Southwood? But you would rescue me, and force me back to Scotland!" She glared at him.

Thomas Southwood had a momentary doubt that perhaps he had not done the right thing in forcing his cousin India aboard his vessel, but he quickly pushed it away. She didn't understand at all. Caynan Reis would have gotten a child or two on her, and then taken a second, possibly even a third and fourth wife. India, he knew, would not have stood for such rivals, and been unhappy. She was better off going back to her family at Glenkirk. Back to the life she knew and understood. They would explain away her year's absence, and find her a husband. She would forget Caynan Reis. Her great wealth would smooth over any difficulties.

He looked directly at her. "It is too dangerous for me to continue on to England with you aboard. We may encounter Barbary corsairs, and have to fight our way out this time, particularly now that we are so well armed. I am taking you to Naples to your grandmother, Lady Stewart-Hepburn. When you return home in a few months' time, it will be said you have been with her all this time."

"And what will be said about poor Adrian Leigh?" India demanded.

"God's boots, India! You don't still care for that arrogant little toad, do you?"

"No, I care nothing for him," India said scathingly. "I love my husband, but Adrian ended up in the galleys because of me. Why didn't you take him with us tonight?"

"I couldn't without involving all the galley slaves on Aruj Agha's ship. For God's sake, India! Your former swain is chained with four other men on a bench. I didn't have the authority to unlock those chains, and if I had attempted to take Adrian off that vessel, there would have been a riot. Our entire escape would have been thwarted. Besides, Adrian Leigh deserves whatever he gets for cajoling you into your rash runaway."

"You really are a bastard, Tom," India said. "If this is to be my cabin while you make your run for Naples, then get out of it! I don't want to see you again. Ever again! How easy it is for you to ruin other people's lives, and all for the sake of your damned ship!"

"This damned ship will help to get you home," he said angrily.

"El Sinut is my home now," she replied stonily.

^{Chapter 15}

The morning after their flight from El Sinut dawned clear. The Mediterranean sun shone golden in a cloudless blue sky, and the brisk winds left in the wake of the storm had swung about to the southwest, speeding their progress toward Naples. It would certainly have been discovered by now that the dey's wife and her servant were missing. It would have been ascertained that the English round ship was no longer in the harbor of El Sinut. The chief eunuch, Baba Hassan, would have connected the disappearance of India and Meggie with that of the ship. Particularly if someone finally saw the single grapnel atop the far wall of the dey's private garden. Mr. James had freed, and tossed down to the alley the grapnel by which his captain and India had descended, but having gotten to the ground with Meggie, he had been unable to loose his own grapnel. They had left it. It was unlikely they would be caught before they reached Naples. By the time Caynan Reis and Aruj Agha were sent for, returned to the city, and sailed in pursuit after them, another two days would have gone by.

They sailed on through virtually unoccupied seas that first day, and the next day as well. Finally, on the third morning, they approached Naples. India stood at the rail, enchanted with the muted peach-and-lavender sky. Pearly gray mist hung suspended in the air like sheer, shredded silk. Here and there tiny islands appeared out of the foggy waters. She could just see the small fishing boats in the fog. She heard the call of a church bell over the smooth seas. A gentle breeze puffed at the sails, causing the ship to glide along almost like a fairy vessel. The air was very damp, and warm.

"Well," Tom Southwood said, coming up to stand by her side, "you'll be at your grandmother's in a few hours, India. I want you to stay aboard until I have gone to Lady Stewart-Hepburn's villa and spoken with her. I'm sure she is aware of your disappearance a year ago. She'll send a message to your family posthaste, I have not a doubt. I'll be glad to have you off my hands, quite frankly. You're a very troublesome wench, India."

"And you're a pompous fool, dear cousin," she responded.

"In time you will forgive me, and realize that what I did was for your own good, India," he said gently.

India turned her face to him, her golden eyes almost amber with her irritation. "Go to the devil!" she told him, and then returned to her cabin where Meggie was awaiting her.

"Captain was seeking you, my lady," the girl said.

"He found me," India replied. "I shall be glad to be quit of him. Hopefully Lady Stewart-Hepburn will not be so condescending."

"You do not call her Grandmother?" Meggie asked.

"She is my stepfather's mother, and I only met her in France two years ago. She has lived in Naples for many years now. For my stepfather's sake, I call her Grandmama, but I was never comfortable with it. My Lindley grandparents were dead before my father and mother were wed. The only grandparents I have ever known have been the earl and countess of BrocCairn, Mama's parents, although the earl is also my mother's stepfather. Most of the women in my family have been wed to any number of husbands. We are very long-lived, Meggie."

Knox had brought them a small repast, some flat bread, dates, and a small carafe of fresh water. The two women ate, and then Meggie fetched a basin of water so they might wash. They had no trunks, and were wearing the same garments in which they had left El Sinut. There was not even a comb for their hair, and all of India's precious jewelry had been left behind. At least that, she hoped, would tell her husband that she hadn't departed willingly from his side. Caynan! Her heart cried out to him over the many miles now between them. I love you! Please find me! Please!

The ship anchored in the Bay of Naples. They had exchanged the banner that flew atop their mast earlier that morning for two flags, one indicating they were an English ship, and the other below it to announce they belonged to the O'Malley-Small Trading Company. Captain Thomas Southwood left his vessel, and was rowed ashore. There he immediately registered his ship with the harbormaster, explaining they had escaped captivity in the Barbary States by stealing back the Royal Charles. He requested that a ship's painter be sent out to his vessel to repaint the correct name on its side and stern. Then, asking directions to the Villa del Pesce d'Oro, he rented a horse and made his way to the small estate, outside of the city and on the sea.

It was to this beautiful villa with its gardens that Catriona Leslie had come to marry Francis Stewart-Hepburn. It was from this place that she had been kidnapped, and taken into slavery in the Ottoman Empire. But Francis Stewart-Hepburn would not be denied the great love of his life, and, discovering where his wife had been taken, came to rescue her. He had, as he later told her, crossed three seas and two straits to find her. They had not returned to Villa del Pesce d'Oro, for Lady Stewart-Hepburn had been badly traumatized by her adventure. They had instead gone to another villa in the hills above Rome, Villa Mia.

In the next few years, as the shock of her sojourn had eased and finally faded almost away, they had taken to going to the Neapolitan villa each summer, and remaining into the autumn when they would return to Villa Mia. Lord Bothwell had loved the warmth and the sunshine of Naples. He had been buried there, except for his heart which was taken from his chest upon his death and placed in a carved oak box which was then placed into a decorated silver reliquary, and rested on a table by his wife's bed. It traveled with her. It would be buried with her when she died.

The gates to the villa were opened by a smiling gatekeeper. The door to the house was opened by a craggy-faced Scot in a kilt.

"Aye?" the grizzled fellow growled.

"I am Captain Thomas Southwood, of the O'Malley-Small trading ship, the Royal Charles. I should like to see Lady Stewart-Hepburn."

"And what is yer business, Captain?" the doorkeeper demanded.

"My business is private, fellow, and not to be discussed with servants," Thomas Southwood replied stiffly.

"Now dinna get yer breeches in a twist, Captain," the Scot said, "but nae one gets into this house wiout my knowing their business. I promised my lord on his deathbed that I would watch over her ladyship, and 'twas nae a promise made lightly."

"I am a son of the earl of Lynmouth, uncle to the duchess of Glenkirk," Thomas Southwood answered. " 'Tis family business I have come about. Now, are you satisfied, and will you let me in?"

"Aye, come in then, and I'll take ye to her ladyship," the Scot said calmly. He turned, and led the way into a bright salon overlooking the colorful gardens of the villa, now a riot of bloom. "Captain Thomas Southwood, m'lady," he announced.

Catriona Stewart-Hepburn had been sitting at an embroidery frame by the open windows. She arose now, and he saw she had the same elegance that his late grandmother had possessed.

"My lady," he said, bowing over the outstretched hand.

"Southwood. Are you related to the earl of Lynmouth, sir?" she asked him.

"Robert Southwood is my father," he replied.

"How kind of you to visit me," she told him. "I do not often have visitors from the north. Do you bring messages from my family?"

"I've brought your granddaughter, Lady India Lindley," he announced, smiling at the look of astonishment that crossed her face.

"India! Oh, thank God! Jemmie and Jasmine have been so worried! Where did you find her? Is she all right? Where did she disappear to?" She sat down heavily, waving him into a chair.

"India will tell you everything you need to know in detail, my lady, but I will tell you briefly. Almost a year ago, Adrian Leigh, Viscount Twyford, convinced India to elope with him. Neither my cousin, Jasmine, nor her husband, approved of this young man. With great foresight India had him book them passage out of England upon one of our ships, and she came aboard disguised. Her masquerade was fortunately discovered, and I took her in my charge immediately, putting her rash young swain into custody. Shortly afterward we were taken into captivity by a Barbary corsair. I advised my crew to accept Islam, which most of them did, thus avoiding service in the galleys. We were brought to El Sinut, and led before its dey, Caynan Reis.

"Because ours was the first round ship they had ever captured, and because I had accepted Islam, I was first sent back out to sea with the janissary agha of El Sinut as his navigator. When it was at last decided that I could be trusted, I was assigned the task of teaching the dey's seamen how to sail my ship. I planned our escape for months, and at last three nights ago I accomplished our flight, rescuing India so she might go with me, along with the little Scots lass who is her servant."

Catriona Stewart-Hepburn knew the answer to the question she now asked. "What happened to India when you arrived in El Sinut?"

"The dey fancied her, and she was taken into his harem," was the answer, as she had expected.

"Ahhh, the poor child," Lady Stewart-Hepburn said, remembering her own sensual captivity, and the trauma she suffered for several years after her husband rescued her. "How is she, sir? When may I see her?"

"She's mad as hell, madame, for she fancies herself in love with the dey. I had to knock her unconscious to get her to safety. As to seeing her, I would very much appreciate it if you would take the troublesome wench off my hands, and see to the task of getting her back to Scotland or England, and into her parents' charge again."

"She is aboard your vessel?"

"Aye, madame, she is," he answered.

"I shall send my Conall down to the harbor to fetch them," Lady Stewart-Hepburn said. "Does she have much luggage?"

"Madame, I carried her unconscious over a fifteen-foot-high wall in the clothing she wore," Thomas Southwood said.

"Where was the dey?"

"Hunting in the mountains with the janissary agha, or I should have never attempted such an escape," he replied honestly.

"Stay with me for a few days," the older woman said. "Both you and your men could surely use the rest after your great adventure."

"I thank you, madame, but we must put to sea again as soon as possible, and direct our efforts to getting home to England."

"If you sail west, Captain, you certainly risk being recaptured again," she said in very practical tones. "I think if I were planning to foil my enemy, I should remain in Naples for a few days, take on a cargo, and sail east to Istanbul. By the time you return west again, the dey and his minions will have tired of the chase, and you will have a profit for your trouble." She smiled at him, and her leaf-green eyes twinkled.

"Your legend, madame, does not do you justice," he said.

"Please," she said, "would you go to the door, and tell Conall to fetch Lady India and her servant from your ship. He is standing on the other side of the panel attempting to hear what is being said, but his hearing is not as good as it once was, I fear."

The door snapped open, and the Scotsman said in glowering tones, "I hear well enough, my lady. Ye need nae insult me, and me so faithful to ye. What is yer ship called, Captain?"

"The Royal Charles, but right now it's got itself a Turkish name on her sides and stern in those wiggly scroll-like lines they call letters. The harbormaster can tell you where we're moored, and arrange for my longboat to take you out to fetch my cousin. I thank you, Conall."

The kilted Scotsman stamped from the room even as his mistress was pouring two exquisite crystal goblets of deep red wine. She handed Thomas Southwood one of the goblets. "Wine, sir?"

The captain took the liquid gratefully, eyed its beautiful ruby color, and sniffed its fragrant bouquet. A look of delight passed over his face. " 'Tis Archambault wine, madame! From my grandmother's family estates in France. God! I have dreamed of this wine all those long months in captivity while I quenched my thirst with water, mint tea, sweet sherbets, and that damnably thick Turkish coffee." He took a sip, and then another, and then drank the entire goblet down before her eyes. "Ahhhh, that was good! Do you know, when they captured my ship, they threw an entire cargo of sherry overboard?"

She refilled his glass, laughing.

"All those barrels floating in the sea," he said mournfully, and began to sip at his goblet once again.

Conall More-Leslie fetched his mistress's carriage and driver. Then, mounting his horse, he led the way to the harbor, instructing old Giovanni to wait for him. "I hae two ladies to bring back to the madonna," he told the coachman. "They are aboard a ship in the harbor."

He was rowed out to the Royal Charles, and, approaching it, saw a painter already hung over the side of the vessel upon a rickety scaffolding, painting out the Turkish squiggles, preparatory to restoring the ship's proper name. He clambered up the ladder hanging over the vessel's side and onto the deck, introducing himself to Mr. Bolton.

"I'll fetch her ladyship, and Meggie," the first mate said, "and glad I'll be to see the last of them. Women on a ship's bad luck, and we've had nothing but bad luck since her ladyship came aboard."

Conall More-Leslie nodded as if in agreement, but he thought the first mate a damned fool to believe such superstitious nonsense. His look was quizzical when India and Meggie appeared before him. Both were attired in foreign garb, and they were barefoot. Then he bowed to India. "I am Conall More-Leslie, your grandmother's majordomo. I hae been sent to bring you to her, my lady. And the wee lassie, too."

"Let us go then," India said briskly. "How the hell do we get off this damned boat?"

"Ye'll hae to climb down the ladder over the side, my lady. I'll go first, and then yer serving girl, and then ye," he told her. "Mr. Bolton, will ye help the ladies, please."

"Aye, and glad I am to do it," the first mate said enthusiastically.

"Good-bye, Knox!" India called. "Thank you for everything."

To her surprise, both India and Meggie navigated the rope ladder in their bare feet without incident. Safe within the longboat, they looked toward the shore. Shortly afterward they found themselves settled in a large, comfortable coach, riding through the streets of a noisy city. The smells were ferocious. India grew dizzy with it all, and leaned back against the upholstered seat.

"How can my stomach be so unsettled on such little food?" she wondered aloud.

"We're getting used to being back on the shore again, m'lady," said Meggie. "And perhaps the wee one is hungry for some nourishment. Ohh, I could use a bowl of Abu's good soup now, I could!"

"Lady Stewart-Hepburn will take care of us, Meggie. Although I barely know her, I can tell you she is a woman of uncommon good sense."

The city was left behind, and they traveled along a rural road by the sea. Finally the carriage turned into the gates of the Villa del Pesce d'Oro, the horses trotting smartly up the graveled drive, finally stopping before the beautiful double doors of the mansion. A servant ran to open the carriage door and lower the steps, offering India his hand. She stepped out, and immediately through the open doors of the villa she saw Catriona Stewart-Hepburn.

The older woman held out her arms to India, who felt compelled to fly into them and be well hugged. "I said you'd cause a scandal if they did not marry you off," Lady Stewart-Hepburn said dryly. "And here you are safely back from your adventures. Jemmie will be so relieved. Come into the house, my dear. You look exhausted, and will want a bath, some food, a rest, and fresh clothing. Is this your servant? Weren't you a lucky lass, child. Had you not been my granddaughter's maid, you might not have had the opportunity to go home to Scotland again."

"Yes, m'lady," Meggie said, dropping a curtsey to this beautiful woman who didn't look old enough to be anyone's grandmother.

"Come along now," Lady Stewart-Hepburn said, and led them into the cool of her villa, then into her salon where Captain South-wood awaited.

"Ah, you are here, Cousin," he said pleasantly.

"Get out of my sight," India said coldly. "If it hadn't been for you, I should be with my husband now. I will never forgive you, Tom!"

"What is this?" the older woman said, looking between the two antagonists. "You told me the dey fancied India, not that she was his wife, Thomas Southwood!"

"How could an English noblewoman be married to an infidel?" he demanded angrily.

"Because the iman made it so, you arrogant bastard!" India almost shouted at him. Then she rounded on her stepgrandmother. "He would not listen, madame. He struck me a blow that rendered me unconscious, and then kidnapped me from my home." She stuck out her jaw, and pointed with her finger to the faint purple bruise. "Caynan will be frantic, madame. You must return me to him!"

"He will replace you with another girl from his harem," her cousin said cruelly. "One wench is pretty much alike to these fellows."

With a shriek India flew at him, clawing at his face. "Bastard! Bastard!" she screamed. "I would kill you if I could!"

Conall More-Leslie leapt forward, and pulled the furious girl away from her victim. "Easy now, lassie. Dinna slay the man for doing what he thought was right."

"He wouldn't listen!" India shouted once more. Her heart was pounding with her burning anger. She couldn't believe the murderous fury Thomas Southwood had engendered in her. She had never been this angry in all her life.

The captain touched his face, looking slightly horror-struck at the scarlet stains on his fingertips. "You've blooded me," he said incredulously. "You've actually drawn blood, you damned wildcat!"

"I would tear your heart out with my teeth if I could," she responded darkly, her eyes blazing violent rage.

Instinctively he stepped back, shocked by the look.

"I think it is best my granddaughter be taken to her room now," Lady Stewart-Hepburn said quietly. "I will send my own women, Susan and May, to help her." She put her arms about a resisting India. "We will solve this problem together, India, I promise you." Then she sent her off with Conall and Meggie.

When they had gone, she turned to Thomas Southwood. "Perhaps you should have listened to her, sir. She is extremely distraught. It is not the attitude of a woman taken from a man who was holding her in bondage. If the dey of El Sinut took her for his wife, then she is his wife. I understand your family loyalty, but what do you think awaits her back in Scotland?"

"They'll find a husband for her," he said sullenly. "She's rich enough, madame, that her wealth will cover her sins."

"Oh, dear," Catriona Stewart-Hepburn said softly. "You are having second thoughts, aren't you, my dear? Well, the deed is done. You will have to get on with your life, and I shall have to straighten out this unfortunate muddle. You will remain in Naples for a few days? And you will take my advice to take on a cargo and sail to Istanbul? If the dey of El Sinut catches you now, I truly fear for you, sir. Go back to your ship, and return for dinner. We eat in the evening here. My son Ian will be coming. You will like each other. Like you, he has yet to settle down," she laughed. "Before you go, however, allow me to attend to those scratches." She peered at his face. "They are not deep. Your handsome face will not be scarred."

"I never realized what a troublesome witch India was," he grumbled. "Your son has obviously had his hands full raising her."

"My son adores her, and she him. I think that may have been the difficulty for India in choosing a husband. No one could quite measure up to Jemmie. And then the charming Viscount Twyford came along. Rather than being supportive, Jemmie was jealous. Although from what I have been told, the young man was really quite unsuitable for an heiress of India's social standing; my son might have handled the situation a bit more tactfully. Sometimes he reminds me very much of his father, Patrick Leslie. Patrick was always quite heedless of the consequences when he wanted his own way," Lady Stewart-Hepburn said. Then, reaching out, she tugged at the tapestried bell pull, and moments later a maidservant appeared. "Acqua e uno bacile," she said.

"Si, madonna," the girl said with a curtsey.

"You speak Italian?"

His older companion laughed. "I have lived in Naples and Rome for over twenty-five years, Captain. Although some of my servants are Scots, most of them are local people. It was necessary that I gain a good command of the tongue. It's a beautiful language; very lyrical and romantic, unlike my own Celtic tongue."

The basin and water were brought, and Lady Stewart-Hepburn quickly cleaned the blood from Thomas Southwood's face. When she had finished, she sent him on his way and hurried upstairs to see how India was faring. She found her in a tub of scented water being tended by Meggie. Her own two serving women, Susan and May, were nearby, seeing to fresh clothing for their guest and preparing her bed.

"I have instructed Captain Southwood to return to his ship, but he will be back for dinner," she told India.

"I cannot bear his company, madame. Please understand," India said.

"You do not call me Grandmama as you did in France," Lady Stewart-Hepburn said.

"I only met you for the first time there. I do not think of you as my grandmother," India answered her honestly.

"Then you must call me Cat," the older woman said. "I was baptized Catriona Mairi, but I was always Cat to my friends and family. I hope we are at least friends, my child."

"Oh, yes!" India said, favoring Cat with a smile. She arose from her tub, and Meggie wrapped her in a warm towel, seating her mistress upon a small chair and drying her wet hair as the two women continued their talk.

"You must forgive poor young Southwood," Cat said. "He was only doing what he thought was right."

"Like all men, he didn't listen, or if he did, he didn't hear," India said. "I have to get back to El Sinut!"

"You are certain you want to return?" The leaf-green eyes scanned the younger woman's face.

"Yes!" India said. "Ohh, Cat! I love him, and he loves me! I have never been happier than I was with Caynan Reis. We had so many plans. I told my cousin that I was glad to remain. I asked him to carry a message to my parents for me, but no! With his misguided sense of honor, and family loyalty, he had to steal me away. I cannot forgive him the pain he has caused me and my husband."

"I understand," she said. "I truly do, India. When I was separated from my lord Bothwell, I thought I should die. I could actually feel my heart cracking with my misery. The first thing we must do is send a message to your husband in El Sinut that you are safe, and we will say nothing to your cousin about our decisions. As long as you are certain, I shall not keep you from the man you love, even if the rest of the whole world disapproves!"

India burst into tears. "Ohh, thank you!" she sobbed.

"I shall excuse you from dinner tonight," Cat said. "You have had an exhausting voyage. Your cousin will be here for a short time, and before he goes, you will reconcile with him. He need not know the reason why, but you will do it to please me, India, since I have agreed to help you."

"Ohh, yes, Cat! I will!" India sobbed.

"May…" Lady Stewart-Hepburn called to her serving woman. "Go to the kitchens and fetch some of Anna's hot soup, a piece of fresh focaccia, some fruit and wine, for Lady Lindley. She must eat, and then I want her put to bed." She turned to Meggie. "What is your name, lassie? I am told you are one of us. Where do you come from?"

"I'm Meggie, your ladyship, and I'm from Ayr," was the answer.

"Go with May then, Meggie, and remain to eat something. Anna will see you are well fed. Then come back to watch over your mistress. There is a nice trundle beneath this bed which Susan will see has fresh bedding and linens for you. You look fair worn, child."

"Thank you, your ladyship," Meggie said, curtseying. "Mistress?"

"Go, Meggie. I will be fine," India said. She was now quite dry in the warm air, as was her dark hair.

Cat's other serving woman, Susan, came now with a soft silk nightgown which she slipped over India's body. "There, my lady. There's nothing like a nice bath and fresh clothes to make a body feel better."

"You're a Scot," India noted.

"Lord bless you, m'lady, aye, and we are. May and me is sisters. We hae been wi our mistress for longer than I care to remember. Conall is our uncle. We came from Glenkirk wi Mistress Cat many years ago."

"Do you ever long for home?" India wondered.

"Not really," Susan said honestly. "The climate here and in Rome is really far better than in our dear old Scotland. Come along now, m'lady, and get into bed."

India was glad to climb into a comfortable bed. She was certain she would fall asleep before May returned with her meal, but she didn't. The two serving women bustled about her, tucking a napkin beneath her chin, settling the tray, and then sitting by her side as she ate. They were full of stories of their mistress and her early adventures. India found herself laughing at the story of how Cat was in labor with India's stepfather, yet would still not marry his father until Patrick Leslie returned property of hers that her father had wrongly included as part of her dowry, instead of allowing it to remain in her hands.

"Did she get it back?" India asked, her mouth full of bread and delicious cheese.

"Aye," Susan said, "and then her waters broke even as she said her vows to her husband."

"She had spirit," India remarked, rather fascinated by these new glimpses of Cat.

"She still does," Susan replied, "even if our life is not quite so exciting as it once was."

When India had finished her meal, and drunk down a goblet of wonderful red wine, the two servants took the tray and left her to rest. She wasn't certain she could sleep now, or that she would sleep well, but she slipped into a slumber that lasted until early the next morning, when she awoke to find Meggie snoring happily upon the trundle. India lay quietly in her bed, listening to the sounds of early dawn. The air coming through the long windows that led onto her balcony was sweet with the scent of flowers. Only the early chatter of the birds broke the silence. It was all very lovely, but she missed El Sinut. Cat had said they would send a message to Caynan Reis, but how? That was something that had to be settled today. Surely Cat was not attempting to gull her.

But the older woman was very serious in her attempt to reunite India with Caynan Reis. She had sent Conall to the harbor that very morning to find a ship that would travel across the Mediterranean and stop at El Sinut. There were none. Finally Conall found a fishing boat willing to make the passage and take a message to the dey.

"But can he be trusted?" India asked the highlander, who had brought his information to his mistress while India was breaking her fast with Lady Stewart-Hepburn.

"The man says he fishes, but he and his crew smuggle a little, too," Conall said. "Their little felluca goes back and forth between Tunis, El Sinut, and Naples wiout any difficulty. They pay protection to both ports, and half the men aboard are Arab. They can get there, get your message delivered, and they can get back."

"And they will do it?" Cat asked her majordomo.

"Aye, they will. I've promised them an extraordinary amount of coin, half before they go, half when they get back. And, I've hinted they are doing the dey of El Sinut a great service for which they will receive an additional reward when they return to Naples wi his answer. Greed is a powerful spur," he finished dryly.

"They will go today?" India demanded.

"As soon as I put your message in their hands, my lady, they will depart the port," he told her.

Cat supplied the parchment and pen, and India immediately sat down to write to her husband. She told him of how her cousin had invaded their private garden by coming over that tiny piece of the wall that was vulnerable to the outside world. How he had rendered her unconscious and carried her off, forcing Meggie to go, too. That she was now in Naples at the villa of her stepfather's mother, Lady Stewart-Hepburn, who had agreed she must return to her husband, but because of the constant strife between the Barbary States and Christian Europe, the women did not know how this end might be accomplished. She wrote that she loved him, and was desperate to be back in his arms again.

The waterproof parchment was then folded and sealed. Then it was placed into a leather envelope, and sealed again. Conall More-Leslie returned to the harbor, giving the leather carrier into the hands of one Captain Pietro, along with a pouch of coins. The captain weighed the pouch in his palm, his look thoughtful and assessing.

" 'Tis all there," Conall told him. "When you get to El Sinut, go to the dey's palace, and ask for the chief eunuch, Baba Hassan. Tell him the leather envelope contains a message from his mistress, and is to be given to the dey immediately. Then do exactly what this man tells you to do, and when it is permitted, you will return to Naples with any answer, coming to the Villa del Pesce d'Oro to deliver that reply and collect the rest of your reward. As I have told you, the dey will instruct us to pay you additional for your service, so do not fail us, Captain Pietro."

"This is no plot against Naples, is it?" the captain asked.

Conall shook his head, rather amazed to find this smuggler was a patriotic man. "It is a private matter," he said. "Nothing more."

The captain nodded. "Bene," he said.

Knowing her messenger was on his way back to El Sinut softened India's stance somewhat toward Thomas Southwood, but she was not entirely mollified, and wouldn't be until a message of reassurance came from her husband. Still, she sat at the table that evening with Cat, her handsome son Ian, and Thomas Southwood. It was Ian Stewart-Hepburn who kindled his mother's emotions, and took the attention completely from India by announcing his intentions to go with Thomas Southwood.

"What on earth for?" Cat demanded.

"Because, my dear mama, it is time I made something of myself and my life. I am thirty-three years of age, and I have spent much of my time in idle pursuits. I cannot continue to be a wastrel."

"But what will you do on Tom's ship?" Cat asked, somewhat confused. "You are not a sailor, Ian, nor can you be one at your age."

"But I can be a merchant-trader, Mama," he told her. "I've bought a cargo of fine olive oil, and I've sent to my saddle maker in Firenze for a dozen of his best saddles. I intend shipping them on the Royal Charles, and finding a market for them in Istanbul. Then I shall buy something there, perhaps silk, and return to Naples."

"Ian! You are the son of the earl of Bothwell," Cat said. "What can you be thinking that you would go into trade?"

"Aye, I am the youngest son of Francis Stewart-Hepburn, once the earl of Bothwell, cousin to the royal Stuarts, but my father was outlawed, and driven from Scotland. Everything was taken from him. They even tried to take you from him, Mama. There is no title, or estates, to inherit, and if there were, Margaret Douglas's sons would have long ago laid claim to them, for she was his first wife, and her children take precedence over we youngest three, who were born when you were wed to the earl of Glenkirk. Until our father claimed us, we were thought to be Leslies, Mama.

"I am my father's son, Mama. I cannot live my life in idleness and boredom. I cannot return to Scotland, for there is nothing there for me, and I should be considered Bothwell's bastard, and scorned. I need to make a life for myself. I have been astoundingly well educated, and I have spent several years enjoying myself while I played. Now I need to move onward. Youj generous allowance allows me to attempt this venture. I think I shall be good at it. I like the business of business. Perhaps if I make a small success of this, I shall even take a wife at long last. I know that would please you, eh, Mama?"

For a moment she stared at this man who looked so much like his father, with his blue eyes and auburn hair. She wondered what Francis would have thought of his youngest son's desire to go into business. The world was changing, she realized, and those who did not change with it would certainly be doomed to extinction. Francis would have agreed with that sentiment. He, himself, had been a man born ahead of his time. At least their son wanted to make something of himself, and he had some Leslie blood in his veins through her, for Cat's mother had been a Leslie. The Leslies had always been fascinated with trading, and the wealth it brought them. "I'm surprised," she admitted candidly to him, "but if this is what you want, Ian, then I cannot deny you. But make a success of it, damn it! Trade carefully, and be clever, and get your own vessel as soon as you can. That's where the money is, my son. In owning your own ship, and not having to pay someone else to ship your goods."

"Exactly, madame," Thomas Southwood said. "The Royal Charles is mine, which is why I was so anxious to regain her custody."

"Would you consider selling a third share in her, sir?" Cat asked the surprised young man. She turned to Ian. "It would be my gift to you, which would allow you not only the profits from your own cargo, but a third profit from the ship itself." She looked back to Thomas Southwood. "The third share I buy for Ian will ease the loss of the cargo you carried when you were captured last year. I know you sail under the banner of the O'Malley-Small Trading Company, but do they own any share of the Royal Charles?"

Tom Southwood shook his head. "She's all mine, madame," he said. "Several of my relations have their own vessels now, but we still sail under our family's banner for a number of reasons."

"I understand," Cat said, "but will you sell me a third share?"

"Aye," he consented, "I will, madame. The price you agree upon will indeed ease my loss, and allow me to pay my men a small stipend, for they lost, too, by our sojourn to El Sinut."

India had been fascinated by the conversation, but now as the talk turned to concluding the bargain, her mind wandered. How far had her message traveled? How would her husband retrieve her safely? What would her family think of all of this? She was hesitant to write to them just now for fear they might somehow manage to prevent her from returning to El Sinut. She knew it was a silly fear, for they were so far away in Scotland, or perhaps England, at this point in time. Still, she might err on the side of caution, and wait.

Several weeks went by during which the Royal Charles was restored to her full glory, but the cannon installed by the janissaries remained aboard. Thomas Southwood had decided that the loss of some cargo space was worth the ability to defend his ship. Finally, one sunny morning, he and Ian came to bid the ladies a farewell, the vessel being fully loaded, and ready to set sail for Istanbul.

"When do you plan to send India home?" the captain asked Lady Stewart-Hepburn. "Have you written to your son yet?"

"There has been no time with all your excitement, and Ian's plans," Cat said ingenuously. "I shall, of course, write to Jemmie and Jasmine soon. I enjoy India's company, and think I may take her with me to my villa outside Rome for the winter. Next spring is time enough for her to return home." She smiled at him.

"I leave the matter in your hands, madame. I have done my duty in rescuing my cousin from Barbary. My conscience is clear," Tom replied with a smile of his own. He kissed her hand, then turned to India. "I am happy to see you are returning to reason, Cousin."

"Go to hell," India told him, smiling brightly.

He laughed. "I think you will be too old by the time you return to Scotland for a husband. Perhaps it will suit you to live out your life without a man. I wish you good fortune."

"Farewell, Thomas Southwood. Go safely," India said, and turned away to bid Ian Stewart-Hepburn an adieu. "I hope your venture will succeed. Listen to Tom. He is knowledgeable, if pigheaded."

Ian chuckled. "Godspeed, India," he said with a wink.

For a moment, she looked a bit puzzled, and then India realized that Ian knew of her plans. She laughed aloud, then said, "I thank you, Ian. You may look like your father, but you are your mother's son as well, I think." Then she kissed him on the cheek.

Several days later, Captain Pietro appeared at the Villa del Pesce d'Oro. He was shown into the salon where the two women awaited him. He tried hard not to gape at the exquisite furnishings and the two beauties, only coming to his senses when Conall poked him roughly.

"Well, man, what news do you bring?" Conall demanded.

The smuggler drew the leather envelope from his shirt, and handed it to Conall. "We could not deliver it, signore."

"Why?" The single word snapped from India's mouth.

"There is a rebellion in El Sinut, madonna. The city was half aflame, the people alternating between fleeing into the hills and rioting. The janissaries were attempting to restore order. It was impossible to even get near the palace. Besides, the dey has been killed by the janissaries. He was, it appears, disloyal, or so the rumor being bruited about said. I am sorry, madonna."

India never heard him. She had already crumpled to the floor.