"This will be the hardest thing for you to bear," Nilak said. "Rafi will cleanse your love channel for you. There is no prurience in her actions, my child. Remain quiet, and she will not hurt you."

Rhonwyn's eyes were wide and startled at Nilak's words, but by now she realized that resistance was indeed futile. She tried not to tense as Rafi pulled her nether lips apart, bathing her gently in places Rhonwyn never knew could be bathed. The old lady's fingers pushed a soft cloth into her body, cleansing and purifying the path the caliph would take this night. Rhonwyn was amazed that she could be stretched quite that wide.

"He will enjoy this one, for while she is not a virgin, she is barely used," Rafi remarked to Nilak and Sarai. "Her pleasure jewel has not yet grown greatly." She cackled and looked down at Rhonwyn. "I am done now, my chick. May you know only joy in your master's bed."

"What did she say?" Rhonwyn asked Nilak.

"She says you are beautiful and wishes you joy" came the reply. "She is finished now, and you are ready for your creaming. Remain where you are. You will like this part," she said with a small smile.

A young eunuch, naked but for a loincloth, came with a tray of lotions and creams. Looking Rhonwyn over critically, he selected a lotion from his tray, poured it into his pink palm, and began to massage her body. Rhonwyn was shocked, but the young brown eunuch worked efficiently, her naked body apparently quite boring to him. His fingers dug into her shoulders and neck. He massaged her chest and breasts; her arms, hands, and fingers; legs, feet, and toes. Then he turned her over as easily as if he were turning a flat bread over a fire and began to work her shoulders again, her back, her buttocks, the backs of her legs and feet. Tense at first, Rhonwyn found herself relaxing in spite of herself and felt newly energized. These baths were the most deliciously decadent experience she had had in all of her life. She somehow thought that Edward would have enjoyed them, and the remembrance of her husband sobered her.

She was being prepared like a lamb for the slaughter for the caliph's bed. Another man. She had not been able to make happy the one she was wed to in the matter of passion. When she displeased this man, would he order her killed? Perhaps if he were unhappy with her, he would return her to the crusaders' encampment, and poor Sir Fulk as well. It was a slim hope, but one to which she would cling. She would tell the caliph honestly that she was unable to give or receive pleasure, and then he would send her back to Edward. There was nothing to be afraid of any longer, and she had certainly enjoyed these baths in the meantime. She would have to tell Edward all about them when she returned to him. Haven could certainly benefit by such civility.

Chapter 9

The caliph's wife was a beautiful woman whose intelligence, kindness, and common sense had kept her close to her husband's heart for over fifteen years. She was Egyptian by birth, a slender lady with pale golden-colored skin, beautiful almond-shaped brown eyes, and long, thick dark hair that she wore loose and dressed with strands of tiny pearls. She wore a peach-colored silk kaftan trimmed with gold at the keyhole neck opening and the wide sleeves.

"Kneel to the caliph's wife, Noor," Nilak instructed her charge.

Rhonwyn knelt, but she did not bow her head.

A barely discernible smile touched the lips of the caliph's wife. The girl had pride, and properly channeled that was a good trait. It was just possible that this beautiful creature might make her husband a fourth and final wife. An ally against the two silly featherbrains who held the positions of second and third wives and who spent much time attempting ways to supplant her or cause trouble for her son, Mohammed. And if her son had not been there to follow his father, they would have fought with each other over whose son would, and then Cinnebar would have suffered the tortures of a civil war.

"She is ready?" the caliph's wife asked Nilak.

"She seems to have come to an acceptance with herself, my lady. She has been bathed and purified properly, and it is hoped that the reality of the possession will more than satisfy the caliph's anticipation," Nilak replied with a small smile. "She is lovely, isn't she?"

The lady Alia nodded in agreement. "Tell her I am pleased with both her beauty and her gentle manners."

Nilak repeated the words spoken by Alia to Rhonwyn.

The girl looked to Nilak and asked, "Am I permitted to address this lady directly, or must I speak to you?"

"You may address her and I will translate," Nilak responded.

"I thank you, my lady, for your kindness. I hope the caliph will see fit to release me back to my husband so I may cause you no distress by my presense," Rhonwyn said politely. Certainly the caliph's wife could not enjoy having all these women waiting for her husband's attentions. She would undoubtedly be delighted to get rid of at least one, and Rhonwyn would surely be delighted to go.

Nilak repeated Rhonwyn's words, adding, "She does not yet understand our ways, my lady, and like most captives dreams of freedom."

"He will certainly dissuade her of such notions," Alia said. "By morning she will be his devoted slave as so many others are. I do not quite know what it is about Rashid, but he has great charm to go along with his insatiable appetites for passion. Tell Noor I thank her for her kind wishes and that she pleases me. If her gentle behavior continues, she will have my favor."

"Fortunate girl!" Nilak exclaimed to Rhonwyn. "You have pleased her with your good manners. If you continue to do so, she says, you will gain her favor. The caliph's second and third wives have never, even on their first nights with him, had her favor."

"The caliph has three wives?" Rhonwyn was both surprised and shocked.

"He is allowed four under the law of Islam," Nilak answered her. "And as many concubines as please him. The only stipulation is that under Islamic law all his wives must be treated equally. If you delight him, you could easily become his wife, Noor. And with her favor, who knows what heights you might attain within this house? Your future at this moment is most golden, my child. Do not forget me in your greatness."

"I have no stature here," Rhonwyn said in practical tones, "nor do I wish any, as you well know. I do not go to the caliph to delight him, but rather to plead for my release, Nilak."

"Do not be foolish, my child. I have told you there is no way back to your world from Cinnebar. Make the most of the opportunity offered you in this time and this place," Nilak said.

"What does Noor say?" the caliph's wife asked.

"She frets she will not be able to please him," Nilak lied with facile grace. What else could she say? she thought. "I am attempting to reassure her that she is a delight to the eye and will indeed please our lord and master, the caliph."

The lady Alia smiled warmly. "How can she not?" she said with generous spirit. "Have her go and rest now, Nilak."

"We are dismissed," Nilak told Rhonwyn. "Arise, Noor, and bow again to the mistress of the harem who has favored you."

Obedient to her mentor, Rhonwyn stood and bowed to the lady Alia. How pretty she is, she thought. How can she bear sharing her husband with all these women? I should not want to share Edward with another. Edward. He had wanted a kiss from her before she went off to her sword practice with Sir Fulk, and she had refused him. How she wished now she had not.

They brought Rhonwyn a tray upon which was a warm flat bread, several slices of chicken breast, an apricot, and a dish of something creamy and white that Nilak said was called yogurt and made from milk. Rhonwyn was hungry and ate it all. An old woman came, and following Nilak's instructions, Rhonwyn opened her mouth for the servant who vigorously cleaned her teeth and mouth in a way she had never experienced, using a minted ground pumice, a rough cloth, a small brush, and minted water.

"Your breath should be fragrant," Nilak said.

Rhonwyn slept. When she awakened she was made to pee and was then bathed swiftly with rose water. Her mouth was once again rinsed, and she was dressed in a loose cream-colored silk kaftan beneath which a narrow filigreed gold chain with a single jewel had been affixed low on her hips. Her feet were bare. Her golden gilt hair was loose and flowing.

"Baba Haroun will bring you to the caliph," Nilak said.

"Will I see you again?" Rhonwyn asked.

"If you do not destroy your chances with your foolishness," Nilak responded, "you will see me come the morrow. I know what you secretly think, Noor. A final time I warn you to put all thoughts of escape from your mind. This is your life now. Better to be at the top of the harem than at the bottom. I know. I never had your chance, but if I had, my child, if I had…" She put her arms about Rhonwyn and gave her a quick hug. "I think your aunt the abbess would advise you even as I do, Noor. Ah, here is Baba Haroun to escort you. Co with him now, and remember to bow to the caliph as I have told you. I wish you joy, my child. He is said to be a magnificent lover."

It would make no difference, Rhonwyn thought, as she followed the chief eunuch through the women's quarters and down a softly lit and scented corridor. If I could feel nothing with my beloved Edward, what can I feel with this stranger who says that I am his slave now and subject to his whims? If I cannot convince him to send me back to the crusaders' encampment outside of Carthage, then I am doomed.

The eunuch stopped before a set of double doors overlaid with gold leaf. He nodded to the two guards on either side of the entry, and they flung open the doors. Rhonwyn and Baba Haroun passed through, and the doors closed behind them.

The caliph stood awaiting them. Following Nilak's instructions, Rhonwyn fell to her knees and then flattened herself to the floor before the caliph, her forehead touching his bare foot. She found such a position degrading, but if she was to gain his cooperation, she must not antagonize Rashid al Ahmet.

"Prettily done, Noor," he said mockingly, "and not without a great cost to your pride, I am certain. Arise."

Baba Haroun helped her to her feet, and then to her surprise he quickly drew the kaftan off of her and as quickly withdrew from the chamber, leaving them alone.

It was useless to attempt to cover herself, Rhonwyn realized. She stood quietly, her eyes unfocused, struggling to conceal her shame.

"Put your hands behind your head," he said to her, surprised when she obeyed him. Had they drugged her into obedience? No. Her milky skin was faintly flushed, and she was deliberately avoiding his gaze. He smiled slightly and allowed himself a leisurely examination of his new possession. She was the most perfect woman he had ever seen in all his life. Her breasts were like little ripe peaches. Her limbs were nicely rounded but slender. He particularly liked her feet. They were small and slim with a high arch. Her narrow waistline flowed into shapely hips. He walked slowly about her, admiring her graceful long back and buttocks a bit plumper than he anticipated.

Standing behind her, he was unable to resist reaching around her to cup those sweet little breasts in the palms of his hands. They were surprisingly weighty for such dainty fruits. He buried his face in her hair, sniffing, then said, "What has happened to that delightful fragrance that earlier perfumed your locks, my exquisite Noor?"

"The scent is taken from the oil of a flower you do not have here in Cinnebar, my lord caliph," Rhonwyn answered. His hands were warm on her flesh and very disturbing, but if that was the worst of it, she would bear it for the sake of her ultimate goal.

His thumbs stroked idly across her nipples. "What is the flower? You shall have it, my beauty."

"It is called heather, my lord caliph. It will not thrive here in your climate," she replied. She wanted to pull away, but if she did, she would offend him, and then what would become of her?

"The plant may not grow here, my beauty, but we can import the oil for you. I shall give orders tomorrow that it be done." He released her breasts from his gentle grip and walked back around to face her once again. His eyes went to the chain that hung low on her rounded hips. From it hung a fat pear-shaped pearl that just touched the tip of the rose slash dividing her nether lips atop her plump mons. It was like a marker showing him the way to paradise. He wondered who had thought of such a clever touch.