ought now that his work was done. His eyes widened, darkened, as though he had only this moment realised something. ‘I beg you, speak to the Caliph, tell him that we wish to be ransomed and will pay his price. It must be for both of us … please. I ask you as an English lady to an English gentleman.’
Kasim inclined his head. He hesitated, then took her hand and prised it from his robes, holding it for one moment before releasing it, almost as if he wished to comfort her. ‘You must go with Sulian now. Do as you are told and you will be treated fairly, but be warned. There are punishments for disobedience that you would not like. I should not wish to see you treated ill, lady.’
‘Help us …’ Harriet said as Marguerite’s arm was taken and she was drawn inside the door. ‘Please, sir. I do not think you belong here any more than we do. For pity’s sake, help us.’
‘Go with Sulian,’ Kasim said, but a little nerve flicked in his cheek and she saw indecision in his eyes—eyes that were much too blue to belong to an Arab. She could not be wrong. He was English born. He must surely have a conscience. ‘I have done my duty to my master. Forgive me, it is out of my hands now.’
Her heart sank at the words and anger replaced the fear. ‘You should be ashamed to serve a man who keeps others as slaves. You know what it is to be free. How can you accept favours from a man who is little more than a savage?’
‘Hush, woman!’ Kasim’s mouth was hard as he looked at her. ‘I think you have not been treated ill. The Caliph is a man of culture and wisdom—and he intends her great honour.’
‘But she is so young and she should be free to live as she pleases,’ Harriet pleaded, though she knew it was too late for Marguerite had already been led away. ‘Please help us.’
‘Please go now. I can do no more for you.’
Harriet saw that it was useless to plead. The eunuch was waiting, his face expressionless. She felt a wave of pity for him. He had lost so much more than his freedom; he was no longer a true man, for only through his mutilation could he be trusted to guard the ladies of the harem.
The door closed behind them with a clanging sound, which made Harriet shiver. Until this moment she had hoped against hope that their captor might relent and ransom them to their families. She had felt that somewhere inside the man with the blue eyes there was an inner core of compassion, but he had not relented. Now they were shut away in the Caliph’s harem, from which she doubted it would be possible to escape.
Marguerite looked at her uneasily. She reached out and took her hand, squeezing it as they followed the fat eunuch along a passage. There were doors to either side, which she realised led to private apartments, but he did not stop until he came to a large open room, which had fountains and benches made of stone and marble. There were flowers growing in pots and tubs and through an open door at the far end of the room, Harriet could see what looked like a beautiful garden. The eunuch was talking to a woman of perhaps forty years. Her eyes flicked towards them and she nodded several times. Finally, as the eunuch bowed to her and turned away, she lifted her hand, beckoning to them.
Harriet held tightly to Marguerite’s hand and they walked towards the woman. Her skin was olive-toned, eyes bright like a hawk’s, and she stared at them curiously for a moment before stretching out to remove the veil Marguerite had been given to cover her head. When she saw how beautiful Marguerite’s hair was she nodded and clapped her hands.
‘The lord Kasim has done well,’ she said in French. ‘The young one will do well for the Caliph’s son.’
‘What did she say?’ Marguerite asked and looked at Harriet in alarm.
‘She says that you are very beautiful,’ Harriet replied. At that moment she was pleased that her cousin had not attended her lessons in French. ‘May we know your name, please, madame?’
The woman’s eyes went to her. ‘You understand me? That is good. Some of the women do not and it makes life more difficult for them. Does the young one not understand?’
‘My cousin speaks only a few words of French, madame. If you speak slowly she may understand a little.’
‘Then I shall speak with you, wise one. You have the look of a wise woman. My name is Mellina and I am in charge of the Caliph’s harem. If you cause no trouble your life here will be pleasant, but if you are surly or disobedient the eunuch has whips that can punish without marking the skin. Our master has his favourites and seldom sends for the other women. Your purpose here will be to wait on the favourites, but your companion will not long be here if things go well.’
‘I hope that neither of us will stay here long. It is our wish to be ransomed. We have families who would pay a rich reward for our return.’
Mellina laughed mockingly. ‘No one has ever been ransomed in the time I have been here.’
‘No one? How long have you lived here?’
‘I was very young and beautiful when I first came to the palace. I pleased the Caliph’s son and he took me as one of his favourites. He is now the Caliph and he has grown sons of his own.’
Harriet felt chilled. ‘Did you have no one to rescue you?’
‘My father gave me to the Caliph as a gift in return for favours.’ Mellina shrugged. ‘My life here has been comfortable and for many years I was the favourite. Now I am in charge of the harem. I keep order here and the women respect me. Sometimes my lord sends for me just to talk. He still has some fondness for me, though others have taken my place in his bed.’
‘Does that not hurt you?’ Harriet asked.
‘It is our way. I knew my fate when I was but a child. You come from a different culture and it will be harder for you to settle to the life here, but it is useless to resist.’
‘What is she saying to you?’ Marguerite asked, pulling at Harriet’s arm. ‘I am hungry. Ask her if we can have food and water. I ate nothing earlier and now I am hungry.’
‘Madame, we have travelled a long way since leaving the ship. Marguerite could not eat because she was ill. I think she is a little better and needs something to eat and drink.’
‘Ah, yes, the little one is hungry.’ Mellina nodded and smiled. ‘Marguerite is a pretty name. I believe the Caliph’s son will be pleased with the gift his father has purchased for him.’
Harriet held back the violent protest that trembled on her tongue. How could she speak so casually of Marguerite’s life? It was not right that the Caliph could just give her to his son. She recalled that Marguerite had found the prince intimidating and her resolve hardened. She would do all she could to prevent her cousin being given to the prince. However, for the moment they had no choice but to do as they were told. Mellina seemed inclined to be friendly and it would be foolish to antagonise her.
‘Is there somewhere we can rest and eat?’
‘Come, I shall show you to your rooms. Clothes will be provided for you and you may wish to bathe to wash away the stains of travel.’ Mellina’s nose wrinkled. ‘You still have the smell of the slave market on you. I shall give you perfumes and oils. You will feel much better when you have bathed and eaten.’
‘Yes, I am sure we shall.’
Harriet took Marguerite’s arm. They followed the woman to a more secluded area where there was
