"But I have a husband," Rhonwyn repeated. For the first time in her life she was beginning to be frightened. Why had Fulk prevented her from escaping when they had the chance? All they had had to do was get back to the coastline and follow it to Carthage. She had seen the walls surrounding this palace. They were high and thick, and now she was trapped behind them. Forever, according to Nilak. It was a terrifying thought, and Rhonwyn began to shake with sudden fear.

Seeing it, Nilak put her arms about the girl. "There, child, it is all right. You will not be harmed, I promise you. Here, drink this," she said, offering Rhonwyn a small cup of the steaming fragrant beverage she had earlier imbibed. "Mint tea is very good for the nerves." She held the cup to Rhonwyn's lips, coaxing her gently. Then she turned to the slave girl who had brought the tea. "Go to Baba Haroun and tell him the girl is succumbing to shock. I will need a sleeping draught immediately if she is to be prevented from hysterics. And ask him if they have named her yet." Nilak turned back to Rhonwyn, who was now even paler. "Try one of these little gazelle-horn pastries," she said, offering it. "They are made with honey, raisins, and chopped almonds. I love them!" She picked up another and began to eat it. "Ummm, delicious!"

Struggling to gain control of herself, Rhonwyn took the pastry Nilak had offered her and began to chew it. It had no taste in her mouth. She swallowed, but put it back down upon the plate.

Nilak reached out and took the girl's cold hand in hers. "It will be all right, my child, I promise you. This is a good life."

"I am Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn, wife of Edward de Beaulieu, lord of Haven Castle. I do not belong here. They must let me go!"

Nilak gathered Rhonwyn into her arms and held her tightly.

It was at that moment Baba Haroun hurried over to the two women. "What is happening to her?" he demanded. "She must be ready to go to the caliph tonight."

"She is in shock, my lord Haroun. It is to be expected, after all. She may have come here as a warrior, but she is in reality only a young woman," Nilak murmured softly. "If the caliph is already taken by her beauty, we must treat her gently so our lord and master is not disappointed in either you or me."

"Your years have given you wisdom, Nilak," he grudgingly agreed, reaching into his voluminous red, black, and yellow-striped robe. "Here is a gentle sleeping potion that will calm the girl." He uncorked the little silver vial and poured it into Rhonwyn's cup.

Nilak put the cup to Rhonwyn's lips. "Drink, my child. We have put a mild dose of herbs into your tea to relax you. You need to sleep so you may face life as bravely now as you have always faced it in the past. Drink."

Rhonwyn didn't argue, gulping down the fragrant brew as if she couldn't escape fast enough. She hated this loss of control over her own life. Within minutes her eyes grew heavy. She didn't protest as Nilak led her to a couch where she lay down and promptly fell into a dreamless sleep.

"What is she to be called?" Nilak asked the chief eunuch.

"Noor," he answered her.

"How suitable," Nilak remarked. "Will you help me get her out of these odd garments, Baba Haroun? I do not want to entrust her to the other women of the harem quite yet. Has the lady Alia been informed of this girl's arrival and the caliph's interest?"

He nodded, thinking as he did that Nilak was perhaps a more valuable slave woman than he had previously considered. The lady Alia was the caliph's favorite wife. She had been wed to him when she was thirteen, and while he had two other wives and several favored concubines, it was the lady Alia who was his friend and his confidante now that the first flush of passion had passed them both. It was her son who would follow his father as the next caliph. She was well liked, feared, and respected by all in the harem.

"I have warned my lady of this new threat," Baba Haroun said. "She will come and see the girl as soon as we have gotten these clothes off of her."

They worked together, removing Rhonwyn's leather boots, her mail leg coverings, the chausses; her hauberk with its metal shoulder pads. Beneath the knight's garb they unlaced her padded arming doublet, and took off her braies, her hose, her chemise. Rhonwyn lay naked before them, her slender frame sweating and dirty but lovely.

"Allah! She is absolutely beautiful," Nilak said. "There has never been a woman here as fair, Baba Haroun."

The chief eunuch stood silent for a long moment, studying Rhonwyn. Her body was utterly flawless but for that ugly bush of hair at the junction where her two thighs met. That would be removed immediately. The limbs, however, were shapely and firm. The breasts small but nicely rounded with pert nipples. Bathed and properly garbed, she would be truly worthy of his master's bed.

"She is lovely," a new voice interjected, and they turned to find the lady Alia had joined them. "What kind of a girl do you think she is?"

"Warlike and difficult," Baba Haroun said immediately.

Alia laughed and patted his hand. "You are too protective of me, Haroun, and most prejudiced where any other woman is concerned. What think you, lady Nilak?"

"I am not certain yet, my lady, but this girl is, I believe, intelligent. I do not sense any wickedness about her, but she has been in my company only an hour or more. However, a woman who could convince her husband to allow her warlike pursuits is both clever and headstrong. She has been very brave these past few days, as you will come to see when I tell you her tale. Now she has only just realized her fate, and it has put her into shock. We will ascertain more of her character when she awakens in a few hours."

"Baba Haroun," the lady Alia said, "see that Noor is carefully guarded until I send the lady Nilak back to watch over her." She turned to the older woman. "Come, and you will tell me this girl's story."

Nilak followed the caliph's wife to her apartments, and they sat together as Nilak repeated what Rhonwyn had told her.

Alia was thoughtful for a few moments when Nilak had finished, and then she said, "Noor has done me a great favor in slaying Prince Abdallah, although she can hardly know it. Unless she sets herself up against me, she will have my friendship for that alone. If anything had happened to my lord Rashid, Abdallah would have killed my son to gain the caliphate for himself. Praise Allah he is now in Paradise, and not Cinnebar." Then her usually serene face grew concerned. "He is eager to possess her, they say. Will she be ready to go to his bed tonight, Nilak? He does not like to be disappointed, as you know."

Nilak sighed. "I cannot say, gracious lady," she answered honestly. "I do not know what the girl will be like once she awakens from her slumbers. Rest may restore her urge to resist."

"When she is bathed, bring her to me," the caliph's wife said.

Nilak arose and bowed to the lady Alia. Then she withdrew, hurrying back to where her new charge lay in a restless sleep, watched over by two armed eunuchs. "You may go now," she told the two guards, and sat down next to Rhonwyn. She beckoned to a slave girl and sent her for the embroidery she had been working on earlier. Receiving it, she bent over her needle once again.

Rhonwyn awoke, confused as to where she was, her mouth dry. Then Nilak's lace came into her view, and the girl fell back against her pillows. "I am thirsty," she said weakly.

Nilak poured her a goblet of liquid and held it to her lips. "It is fruit juice," she said as Rhonwyn greedily gulped down the contents of the goblet. "How do you feel now, my child?"

"Still tired" came the wary reply. Then Rhonwyn looked down, and seeing she was naked, gave a small cry. "What have you done with my garments, lady?" She was blushing furiously, and there was nothing nearby with which she might cover herself.

"You could not sleep in those rough garments, my child. Your lovely limbs were prickled with the mail of your leg and arm coverings. Only that padding about your breasts saved them from being so evilly marked. Can you stand up? You must go to the baths and be washed. You have slept almost the entire day away."

"Could you not have put another garment on me?" Rhonwyn demanded.

"A clean garment on a filthy body?" Nilak sounded shocked.

"I am going nowhere without something to cover me," Rhonwyn insisted stonily.

"I realize you are not used to being naked, my child, but we are all females here," Nilak replied quietly. "Come now, do not be foolish. The baths will restore you." Nilak arose and held out her hand.

"No!" Rhonwyn said.

Nilak did not bother to argue further. Noor was going to have to learn obedience sooner than later. She signaled to two eunuchs. "The lady Noor is to be escorted to the baths and is having a moment of obstinacy. See that she overcomes it. I will meet you there." Then she moved off, crossing the main room of the harem, a small smile upon her pretty face as she heard the shriek of outrage behind her. She did not bother to turn about. The eunuchs had been given their orders and would carry them out. Nilak entered the baths and called for the bath mistress.

"Good day, Sarai," she said as the bath mistress came.

"Good day to you, Nilak. You are bringing me the warrior woman? Where is she? I hear he wants her tonight and there will be a great deal to do with this one."

"She is coming," Nilak said with a small laugh. "She objected to being naked, and two eunuchs had to escort her, I fear."

"Foolish creature," Sarai muttered. "These Frankish women are so ridiculous in their fear of nudity. Ah, here she is."

Rhonwyn was pink with her outrage. The two eunuchs had grasped her arms and hustled her through the harem, practically lifting her off her feet when she resisted them. When they put her down before the bath mistress and Nilak, she whirled and struck them both with her fists. "Barbarians!" she shouted angrily.

The eunuchs were surprised by her ferocity, but neither was hurt by the blows. They laughed and then departed.

Rhonwyn turned again and said to Nilak, "How could you let them do that to me, lady?"

"I do not argue with foolish girls," Nilak said sternly. "The rule in this world is obedience, Noor. When you do not or will not obey, you will be made to, my child. Now, you are not a stupid girl, so this should be the only lesson you will need."

"I will escape this place, return to my old world," Rhonwyn said defiantly.

"No, you will not," Nilak said implacably. "Even if by some miracle you managed to leave the palace, you would not know where to go, and you would be caught and brought back. You would be whipped upon the soles of your feet until you could not walk for three days. That is the punishment for disobedient slave girls. We do not mar the beauty of harem women, but unruly behavior must be punished. Cease your foolishness, Noor! We have much to do before moonrise. This is Sarai, the bath mistress. You will obey her, and I will be by your side to see that you do."

"You remind me of my aunt," Rhonwyn said. "She is an abbess."

Nilak laughed. "And did she have to speak so directly to you, my child?"

"Aye," Rhonwyn said, and then followed the two older women into the balhs.

She had never thought herself a dirty woman, but she had also never known what clean truly was. She was rinsed and soaped. A silver instrument was used to scrape the dirt from her body. She was rinsed again. A thick peach-colored paste with a heavy fragrance was smoothed over her arms, her legs, beneath her arms, and atop her Venus mons. She was brought a cup of hot, sweet mint tea. When she had finished it, she watched in utter amazement as the paste was rinsed from her body, and her body hair with it.

Rhonwyn looked down at her mons and blushed. She had never noticed before how plump it was, nor the deep rosy slash that bisected its twin halves. There was an intense sensuality to her body now that made her very uncomfortable. Neither her nudity, nor their own nudity, seemed to disturb her two companions. What an odd world, she thought as she sat quietly while her fingernails and her toenails were pared almost to the quick and then smoothed and shaped neatly.

Her gilt-colored hair with its gold and silver lights was most thoroughly washed several times until she thought her scalp was going to be scrubbed raw. Then her hair was carefully dried by hands that toweled and brushed until her tresses almost floated like thistledown in a west wind. They lay her upon a raised and padded bench, and an old crone carrying a basket came From the shadows.