A Memory of Love (25 page)

The caliph rocked her in his arms. No wonder she had not been able to feel any pleasure. His poor beautiful Noor, but now it would all change for her. “Who raped your mother, Noor?” he gently asked her. “You were very little, weren't you?”

Rhonwyn's eyes opened, and she shuddered hard. “I never knew who he was,” she said. “Probably someone who knew my father and knew where our cottage was hidden. My mother never knew if the third child she carried was his or the prince's. My father loved her and would have killed any man who touched her. I think that is what frightened her. She always said there was greatness in ap Gruffydd, and it should not be denied. She would not have wanted to be the cause of his failure. I was just four when it happened, and my brother still at her breast.”

“Do you understand now what she meant when she warned you not to allow any man to do to you what was done to her? She did not mean you should not enjoy mutual pleasures, Noor, only that you should not find yourself in her unfortunate position.” He stroked her hair tenderly. “Poor lady. How she must have suffered, and what a terrible secret both you and she kept. Sleep now, my beautiful one. Later when you awaken, I shall make love to you as you should be loved.”

She was puzzled. She could see his manhood was still stiff with his desire for her. Reaching out, she touched him, saying, “I will not be afraid now, my lord caliph.”

“You will be less fearful when you have slept, my beauty,” he advised her. “You have faced terrible demons just now. Sleep the residue of them away, and then I will take you to paradise as a reward for your bravery, sweet Noor.” He kissed her forehead.

“I am no longer a child, my lord caliph,” Rhonwyn told him. “I am a warrior woman, and now I have confronted that which has secretly terrified me all these years. I need no rest, but I do need your passion to prove to me that I have truly overcome my terrors.” She held out her arms to him.

Rashid al Ahmet covered her body with his own. His manhood, rampant and hungry for her, slid easily into her love channel. He watched her face carefully, but there was no longer any fear in her eyes. It had been replaced by a budding wonder and eager anticipation of what was to come. She was wonderfully tight and hot. “You are indeed fearless, my beautiful warrior woman,” he complimented her. Then he began to move upon her.

Rhonwyn closed her eyes, enjoying the incredible sensation of him as he pushed slowly within her. She could feel the throb of his manhood as it delved into her depths. She was acutely aware of every tiny sensation he elicited from her. When he began to thrust and withdraw, thrust and withdraw, Rhonwyn knew that her mother, who had loved ap Gruffydd so dearly, would have never denied her this marvelous sense of utter delight. She arched her body to match his rhythm, crying out as a tiny sharp pulse of pleasure began to envelop her, building until it crashed over her like a large wave, leaving her weak and satisfied, piercingly aware of his hot love juices that were discharged deep into her now well-plowed field.

When she was finally able to breathe normally again, she said shyly, “That was wonderful, my lord caliph!”

“Rashid,” he said to her. “My name is Rashid, and I shall never let you go, my beautiful Noor. You are mine forever!”

She lay her golden head upon his smooth chest, strangely happy, and yet deep within her heart she whispered a single word:
Edward!
It was her husband, Edward de Beaulie, she loved, and not this intense man. Yet it had been Rashid al Ahmet who had delved into her deepest secret and drawn it forth from the darkness in which she had kept it hidden all these years. Her husband, to whom she had been wed a year, had not been able to do that. Rashid al Ahmet, caliph of Cinnebar, into whose presence she had been brought as a prisoner only this morning and into whose bed she had been taken this night—it had been he who had touched her as no other man ever had.
Why?

She had to admit that his passion was magical, and she had obviously pleased him greatly. If she continued in his favor, who knew to what heights she could reach in Cinnebar, but it was not what she wanted. She wanted to return to Edward and share herself with him as she had never been able to share herself before. She owed the caliph a great debt for that. Still, what her heart desired was impossible.
But was it?
Only time would tell, and in the meantime she would continue to share herself with the caliph. She sensed that she was just beginning to learn all that he had to teach her, and she realized that she was now a most eager pupil.

“What are you thinking?” he demanded raising her up so he might look into her beautiful face.

“I am thinking that you have much to teach me, my lord Rashid,” Rhonwyn answered him honestly.

The caliph laughed aloud. “Aye,” he said. “We have only just begun, my beautiful Noor. We have only just begun!”

“A
waken, my child.” Nilak's voice came to her through the mists.

Rhonwyn's eyes opened slowly, focusing upon her surroundings, at first confused as to where she was, but then remembering.

“Oh, Noor, how you have pleased the caliph! He left you to sleep and gave orders that you should not be disturbed until the sun was at the mid-heavens. The entire harem is talking. They cannot ever remember a time when he left a woman to sleep in
his
bed after he had taken his pleasure. Come, child, get up now. We must go to the baths and then to your new apartments, which are next to the lady Alia's! You are very much in favor, and 'tis said the second and third wives are quite angry. The gossip is that you will be made his fourth wife, for he is besotted by you, fortunate girl!”

Rhonwyn tried to absorb all of Nilak's words. She stretched her limbs gingerly and felt a slight soreness between her thighs. He had coupled with her a second time last night, and it had been even better than their first encounter. She was confounded by it all, although he had carefully explained to her that the memory of her mother's rape, buried deep within her mind, had been the cause of her inability to enjoy passion. Now released from that terrible pain, she was free to let her passions take her where she would. His words had disturbed her deeply, and she again wondered why Edward had not been able to find the answer to the riddle of her unresponsiveness.

Nilak gently tugged on her arm. “My lady Noor, you must come with me now,” she insisted.

“Yes, yes,” Rhonwyn answered her, arising at last, but her attention was only partly focused on the older woman who was slipping a silken garment over her.

“
They
say he returned from his morning meal to watch you in sleep for a short time,” Nilak said. “What did you do, child, to entrance the caliph so?” She led Rhonwyn from Rashid al Ahmet's apartments and down the hall into the women's quarters.

Rhonwyn was startled to note that slaves and harem women alike bowed to her politely as they passed by. By the rood, she thought, Nilak does not just babble uselessly. Rhonwyn's wits were beginning to sharpen once again. She had already divined from Nilak's chatter that to survive in this place she needed power. Power came from several sources. The caliph. The lady Alia. And Baba Haroun. She already had the caliph's favor, and she could probably keep it if she were clever. It was his first wife and the chief eunuch she needed to win to her side.

She had no quarrel with the lady Alia. Indeed, the caliph's wife had treated her with great kindness. She wondered how that lady would feel now with all the gossip regarding the caliph's infatuation. No matter, Rhonwyn told herself, I will be polite and quiet spoken toward her. As for Baba Haroun, he is obviously devoted to the lady Alia. He will never really trust any other woman who might threaten his mistress's position, Rhonwyn realized. Still, I will be respectful toward him and consider any advice he may give me. If he will not be my friend, at least I shall not have him as an enemy.

They entered the baths, and as Sarai hurried forward to greet the new favorite, a silence fell among the other women there. Sarai greeted Rhonwyn, and then taking her single garment from her, she personally took charge again of the bathing procedure. The other women began to chatter softly once more, but two who were seated together having their toenails pared stared hard at Rhonwyn.

“The one with the dark blond hair is Fatinah, the second wife,” Nilak said softly. “The chestnut-haired woman is the third wife, Hasna. How they glare at you,” she chuckled low. “Their jealousy is plain.”

“Can they harm me?” Rhonwyn asked.

“They might try,” Nilak said honestly.

“Will Baba Haroun protect me from them?”

Nilak nodded. “He will, but you must still be cautious, my lady Noor. We will choose your servants carefully.”

“I want no one but you serving me,” Rhonwyn replied. “Your fate is now tied to mine, and so I believe I can trust you, Nilak; but should you ever betray me, I will kill you with my own hands.”

Nilak looked startled, but then she laughed. “You will have no cause to, my lady Noor. Being your confidante is a better position in my old age than caring for the children of harem women. I will never betray you. I swear it!”

They bathed together, and then when they had finished they entered the chamber where the women liked to gather afterward, drinking mint tea and gossiping. Rhonwyn saw the lady Alia surrounded by her women and immediately went to her. Kneeling before her, Rhonwyn placed her hands in those of the caliph's first wife, her head bowed. “I greet you, great lady,” she said quietly.

Alia smiled wryly, but then she said to Nilak, “Tell the lady Noor that her gesture of respect shows me her good breeding. I hope she will soon learn our tongue so we may converse together. She remains in my favor, for she has touched our lord's heart, yet even knowing it, does not flaunt herself as others have in the past.” Her graybrown glance flickered briefly to where the second and third wives sat. “The lady Noor may sit by me and join me in a cup of tea.”

Nilak carefully repeated the first wife's words. Her trembling voice could scarcely mask her excitement. She settled herself at Rhonwyn's feet, translating for the two women as they spoke. A tiny blue and white porcelain cup was placed in Rhonwyn's hand.

“You have pleased my husband greatly,” Alia said. “Rashid is a good man, although he has little tolerance for fools.”

“I did not know there was a kingdom here in the mountains behind Carthage,” Rhonwyn said.

“Cinnebar has been here since the beginnings of time,” Alia responded. “It has never been conquered because it is so remote. The wealth of our gold mines, while comfortable, is not so great that we attract undue attention. We also mine alabaster and peridot.”

“You are not so distant that you escaped the sword of Islam,” Rhonwyn remarked.

Alia laughed. “In the beginning Cinnebar worshiped various gods, as did most peoples. Then came a physician named Luke who converted our people to Christianity. Are you shocked, Noor? Yes, I can see you are, but many who were once Christians in this region converted to Islam when it came. Here in Cinnebar it happened several hundred years ago, when a princess from Baghdad married the ruler of Cinnebar. It was she who converted the people of Cinnebar. There are still Christians and Jews among us, and they are welcome as long as they obey our laws. We have never had any difficulties, as we respect each other's manner of worship. After all, Noor, we all worship the same one God. We all honor the ancient augurs. Abraham. Isaac. Moses. You Christians accept Jesus of Nazareth as the messiah. We in Islam believe he is a great prophet, although we hold that Mohammed is the greater. Are these small differences a cause for warfare?” Alia asked Rhonwyn.

“Yet men war over them,” Rhonwyn replied.

“They are foolish, aren't they?” Alia responded. She lowered her voice. “Men have not the inner strength of women, which is why God made women the bearers of new life.” Her eyes twinkled.

Rhonwyn could not suppress a giggle. “How wise you are, my lady Alia,” she said quietly. “I think I can learn much from you.”

“We are going to be friends,” Alia said. “I knew it when I first saw you, Noor. Ah, here is Baba Haroun.”

“My lady Alia.” He bowed. “I have come to escort the lady Noor to her apartments.”

“I will come with you,” Alia said, rising. “And she will need servants of her own.”

“I want only Nilak,” Rhonwyn said quickly as she stood.

“Lady,” the chief eunuch protested, “you have become a favorite of the caliph. You cannot be served by just one woman.”

“Why not?” Rhonwyn demanded.

“It is not proper,” the eunuch said fussily. “You are the new favorite.”

“I have been here but a day,” Rhonwyn said. “Perhaps the caliph will decide he does not favor me.”

Nilak was almost dizzy with all the translation involved.

“She is fearful of who to trust,” Alia said to the chief eunuch. “I think she is very wise. Fatinah and Hasna have been glaring at her ever since she entered the baths, Baba Haroun. I want her well protected. Do you understand me? I like this girl. She will be no threat to me even if she falls in love with the caliph. This is the ally I have been seeking. I will give Noor two young slave girls from my own staff. They are well trained and trustworthy. Tell her, Nilak.”