Authors: Bertrice Small
Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Romance
Nilak repeated Alia's offer to Rhonwyn, adding, “You cannot refuse her, my lady, else you say without words that you do not trust the caliph's first wife.”
“I accept my lady Alia's most gracious offer and thank her for her understanding,” Rhonwyn said sweetly.
Nilak repeated Rhonwyn's honeyed reply.
Again Alia smiled wryly. Then she laughed. “You must teach her our tongue as quickly as she can learn, Nilak. I really do want to be able to speak with her. How can we two plot and plan if we cannot understand one another?”
Nilak chuckled and repeated what the caliph's first wife had said.
Rhonwyn burst out laughing. “Tell my lady Alia I shall endeavor to learn her language as quickly as possible.”
A small smile touched the lips of the chief eunuch. He had had his doubts about the foreign warrior woman, but it was obvious that she had a generous spirit and a good heart. And his mistress, who had always been a very intuitive woman, liked her. “Come,” Baba Haroun said, and he led the women from the gathering room in the baths to the lady Noor's new apartments. Flinging open the doors, he said, “Enter, my ladies.”
The apartment was charming with its pale pink marble walls and painted ceilings. There were two mediumsized rooms and a small room where the serving women could sleep. Both of the larger chambers opened onto a small garden with a spectacular view of sky and mountains. It gave Rhonwyn the illusion of freedom, which it had been designed to do. There was a small bubbling pool in the garden and a fountain in the dayroom. The furnishings were rich with ebony and marble, silks and diaphanous gauzes, gold and silver, thick carpets, and colored glass lamps that burned fragrant oils. The cushions in the seating area were velvet and brocade. The bed in the bedchamber sat upon a gilded dais and was hung with green silk.
Rhonwyn found herself at a loss for words. It was the most beautiful place she had ever seen. Even Haven had nothing like this within its stone walls. She turned this way and that, admiring something new that caught her eye each time she thought she had seen it all. “It is lovely,” she finally managed to say. She turned to Alia. “Thank you.”
“I am glad you are pleased,” the caliph's first wife said. Then her eye lit upon a tray of plump apricot halves. “Baba Haroun, what a lovely touch. They look delicious sitting in their honey glaze.” She reached for a fruit, but the chief eunuch slapped her hand away.
“No, lady!”
he cried out. “I did not order that these fruits be placed in the lady Noor's apartments.” His black eyes grew opaque. “Would you take the lady Noor to your apartments, please, my lady Alia?”
Alia nodded. Her golden skin was suddenly pale.
“What is it?” Rhonwyn asked Nilak, confused.
“We are to go with Lady Alia,” Nilak answered.
“Why?” Rhonwyn persisted.
“Baba Haroun did not order the apricots be brought to you. I believe he thinks they are poisoned,” Nilak said quietly.
“Poisoned!”
Rhonwyn was now pale herself. “Who would want to poison me? I have not been here long enough to make enemies.”
“You have found favor with the caliph,” Nilak replied. “That is enough to give you enemies, my child. Come now.”
They followed Lady Alia to her apartments just down the corridor. Nilak told the caliph's first wife that she had explained the confusing situation to the lady Noor, who was understandably shocked.
“Do not be afraid, Noor,” Alia said, putting an arm about Rhonwyn. “No harm will come to you. I will see to it.”
Rhonwyn nodded, smiling weakly at Alia as Nilak translated.
“I shall now seek among my younger maidservants for two slave girls to serve you,” the caliph's wife said. “And Nilak will, of course, remain your companion.” She left Rhonwyn and Nilak, who were now seated together in a quiet corner.
“Why is she so kind to me?” Rhonwyn asked.
“Because in you she sees an ally against Fatinah and Hasna,” Nilak said frankly. “When the caliph took Fatinah as his second wife, Fatinah attempted to lord it over the lady Alia. It was a very foolish move, because the first wife always has precedence over the other wives and the concubines or any woman in the harem except possibly the lord's mother, but the caliph's mother died when he was a child. Fatinah bore the caliph a son, but by then he was tired of her vexatious behavior. Although it is not the lady Alia's way to complain, Baba Haroun had kept the caliph fully informed of Fatinah's behavior. While our master was grateful for his second son, Omar, the boy's mother was no longer of any importance to him.”
“And then he fell in love with Hasna?” Rhonwyn was curious.
“Hasna was the daughter of one of the former caliph's most faithful counselors. She was the child of his old age. When he was on his deathbed he begged our caliph to take Hasna as a wife. He had no other children, and Hasna's mother had died giving birth to her. Rashid al Ahmet agreed. At first Hasna was meek and respectful, but then Fatinah infected her with her venom and jealousy. Hasna gave birth to a daughter, and before she lost her husband's love, she had another daughter. These two creatures spend most of their time scheming to overthrow the lady Alia, for they are too stupid to see it cannot be done. Even if that good lady died a natural death, the caliph would not return them to his affections. Several months ago the caliph's eye lit upon a particularly lovely slave girl from the island of Sicily. His passions were engaged, but the girl died suddenly after nibbling on a dish of pistachio nuts that had been left in her chamber. No one knew from where the nuts had come, although one of Fatinah's servants had been seen by a harem woman near the dead girl's chamber during that fatal day. When questioned, however, the harem woman claimed she could not remember which servant or if, indeed, it had been one of Fatinah's women at all.”
Rhonwyn laughed almost bitterly. “I am here against my will. I don't want to infatuate the caliph, but I have, and now these two women want to murder me for it. Would that I had never left England.”
“It will be all right, my child,” Nilak assured her.
“What will happen now?” Rhonwyn wanted to know.
“This time, I believe, Fatinah and Hasna have gone too far,” Nilak said grimly.
And as if to give emphasis to her words, terrified shrieks were now heard coming from the main gathering room of the harem. Her expression grim, the Lady Alia rejoined Rhonwyn and Nilak. There was the sound of pounding footsteps, and the doors to the lady Alia's apartments burst open to admit a very young and frightened slave girl. Behind her came Baba Haroun, the look on his face merciless. The girl flung herself at Alia's feet, sobbing and babbling.
“She is begging the lady for mercy,” Nilak said softly. “She says she had to do what she was told by her mistress. That she herself would harm no one. She begs Lady Alia to spare her life.”
The slave girl clutched at Alia's hem and pleaded as Nilak translated her words to Rhonwyn.
“Lady, gracious lady, spare me! I am the lowest of the low and could not refuse when my mistress commanded me!”
“Did you know the fruit was poisoned?” Alia asked.
The slave girl shook her head in the negative.
“She lies!” snapped Baba Haroun. He grabbed the slave girl by her arm and shook her roughly. “The truth, you spawn of a she-camel!”
“I did not know! I did not know!” the girl insisted.
The chief eunuch slapped the slave girl brutally several times. “I shall whip the truth out of you, girl!” he roared.
“I did not know,”
the girl sobbed brokenly.
“But did you suspect your mistress and her friend might want to harm the lady Noor?” Alia gently probed.
The slave girl nodded, adding, “But I am only a slave, my lady, and I could not be certain what they were doing. They did not do it in my sight, so how could I accuse them of perfidy?”
“You could have come to me,” Alia said quietly.
“They would have killed me if I did,” the slave girl half whispered.
“Now I will kill you,” Baba Haroun said fiercely, and the hapless slave shrieked, wrapping her arms about Alia's legs.
“No, Baba Haroun,” the caliph's first wife said. “The girl is correct, and only sought to survive. It is Fatinah and Hasna who must be punished severely for this attempt on Noor's life. And, I am certain, the murder of poor Guzel. Tell me, girl,” she said softly, caressing the slave's head comfortingly, “what do you know of Guzel's death. Did you bring her the pistachio nuts?”
“Nay, lady, 'twas another. The lady Hasna's servant,” the slave said low.
“Were the nuts poisoned?”
“So it was rumored among the others” was the reply.
“Take the apricots to Fatinah and Hasna, Baba Haroun. See that they eat them all,” Lady Alia said in a soft voice. “I grow weary of their misbehavior.”
“What of their children?” he asked.
“Omar is but four, and the girls three and two. We will raise them properly. Under our tutelage Omar shall be come his brother's right hand instead of his nemesis, eh?”
“You are merciful, my lady,” the chief eunuch said.
“Remove the children before the others,” she advised.
“It shall be done, my lady” was the obedient answer.
“She is going to kill them?” Rhonwyn was surprised.
“Fatinah and Hasna have crossed the line,” Nilak said. “You are new here, and so you do not know what they have done in their never-ending attempts to harm the lady Alia and her son, Mohammed. There are none here who will mourn their passing.”
“What will the caliph say?” Rhonwyn wondered.
“What happens here in the harem is the province of the lady Alia and Baba Haroun. It is he who will explain to the caliph what happened. It is unlikely that the caliph will have any objection.”
Rhonwyn suddenly saw the caliph's first wife in an entirely new light. Beautiful, obviously intelligent, and certainly kind, Alia was completely capable of being ruthless when she had to be. Rhonwyn shuddered.
“Are you chilled, my child?” Nilak asked anxiously.
“Nay,” Rhonwyn said quietly.
“You are surprised that the lady Alia can be so unflinching, aren't you?” Nilak said. “She is royalty, Noor. Her father was a prince of Egypt. She knows how to rule and what must be done when necessary. She has never hesitated to do what she must and will protect the caliph and their son at whatever cost.”
“What shall I do with this girl?” Baba Haroun asked his mistress.
“I shall take her into my own household,” Alia said. “She is really a good girl who simply found herself with a bad mistress. Now go and do what must be done, Baba Haroun.”
“As my lady commands,” the chief eunuch said, bowing low and then backing from the chamber.
“Get up, girl, you are safe now,” Alia said, pulling the slave girl to her feet. The slave kissed Alia's hands in gratitude. “What excitement! Let us have some mint tea and music to calm our nerves. Noor, come and sit by my side,” the caliph's wife said.
Within minutes slave women appeared, bringing tiny cups of the sweetened mint tea and an engraved silver plate covered with stuffed dates and tiny crescent-shaped pastries filled with chopped nuts, raisins, and honey. A slave played upon a lute, singing softly. The air was suddenly fragrant with the scent of aloes. The tiled fountain in Alia's gathering chamber cooled the room in the afternoon heat. Rhonwyn ate the treats eagerly, as she had had nothing to eat since being awakened earlier.
“When it is safe you will go to your own apartment, Noor,” Alia said. “I imagine you will want to rest before Rashid desires your presence tonight. He is a most passionate lover, isn't he?”
Rhonwyn blushed furiously at Alia's query.
The caliph's wife laughed and reached out to touch the younger woman's warm cheek gently. “How old are you?” she asked.
“Seventeen, I think,” Rhonwyn answered.
“A married woman, and still so innocent until your night with Rashid,” Alia teased. “When I was your age I had a three-year-old son. Do you want children, Noor?”
“I do not know,” Rhonwyn said frankly.
“Our lord will give them to you, Noor, for his seed is potent,” Alia replied. “I hope you will learn to love him. For all his manly strength he needs love to sustain him and make him stronger, as do all men, although certainly none of them will admit to it.”
Suddenly from another part of the harem muffled screams were heard. Rhonwyn paled and looked to Nilak, but her translator was silent, her lips pressed together in a tight straight line. She glanced to the lady Alia, but the face of the caliph's wife was serene, as if she had not or could not hear the shrieks. Rhonwyn swallowed hard. Although she knew what was happening she had not imagined the executions of Fatinah and Hasna would be so public or so vocal. Neither of the two women could be very intuitive to have resisted the authority of the caliph's first wife. It was not a mistake Rhonwyn intended to make while she resided in Cinnebar. Alia's friendship was important to her survival, and rhonwyn meant to keep it.
Suddenly Alia spoke and Nilak said, “It is over now, child. Do not look so stricken. They deserved their fate. The lady Alia is extraordinarily patient and has borne their unforgivable behavior for several years. Today's attempt upon your life was but the final straw to break the camel's back. The harem will be a better place now.”
“I must accept your word for that,” Rhonwyn said, and sipped her mint tea, which was now cool.
“You have been giving her the elixir?” Alia asked Nilak. “Until I can be certain of her character, I do not want her belly swelling with Rashid's offspring. Her exceptional beauty has captivated my husband. Will she use her power over him for good, or will she become like the others? I want to avoid another incident like today's.”
“I have put the elixir in her tea each morning,” Nilak answered. “As she does not speak our language there is no one to tell her of such things, my lady. I will do whatever you command me regarding this girl.”
“I like her,” Alia said. “I think I have read her correctly and that there is no malice in her. Right now, however, I know she longs for her husband and her homeland. Rashid's passion toward her will soon change that. With Fatinah and Hasna gone, he will take her for his wife, I am certain. Two wives for the caliph of Cinnebar are quite enough, don't you think? One seems rather paltry. Four is a bit ostentatious. Two is sensible, and just right. Noor is healthy and young. She will give our lord several children when the time is propitious. Begin tomorrow to teach her our language as I have previously commanded you. I long to speak with her directly, Nilak.”