Bertrice Small - A Memory of Love

"Then you will help me!" Rhonwyn said excitedly.

"I will help you," Baba Haroun replied, "but I do so only to safeguard the happiness of my beloved mistress. She does the noble thing in saying the caliph must have his way in order to be happy. She has been raised to think of her lord first. But you, Noor, were raised to think of yourself first. I contemplated the possibility of seeing you contract some disease, sicken, and die before you might give the caliph a child. If my mistress cannot or will not protect herself and her son, then I must. It is my duty. However, I hold no malice against you. You have been respectful and loving of my lady Alia. I will, therefore, aid you, Noor."

"Thank you, Baba Haroun," Rhonwyn said, her heart hammering against her ribs as she spoke. That he would have stooped to her murder truly frightened her.

"Return now to your quarters, Noor. I will contact your brother, and we will make all the necessary arrangements. You will be told when the time is come. You are pale, Noor, but you need have no fear of me. You, yourself, have solved the problem we had, and I will not betray you for the love we both bear the lady Alia." He smiled a quite kindly smile at Rhonwyn. "Go."

She got to her feet, remembering to bow to this powerful man. Then she hurried from his quarters, not quite certain whether she should rejoice or not. She could not know until the moment came if she would really be free or if he would betray her. Living in the harem had taught her one thing, and that was that you could trust no one completely. Still, she knew she had not made an enemy of Baba Haroun. Surely he would keep his word.

"What did he say?" Nilak demanded as Rhonwyn reentered her apartments. "I will wager he is in no hurry for you to bear the caliph a child. He is loyal first to Lady Alia." She made a disapproving face.

"Of course he is," Rhonwyn said, "and that is as it should be. He has been with her since her childhood in her father's house. I am not certain in my own mind that I am ready to become a mother yet."

"If you wait much longer, you shall see gray in that gilt hair of yours," Nilak scolded, and two other serving women giggled. "You are past eighteen, my lady Noor, and not getting any younger. If our lord Rashid wants a child of you, then you must give him a child. It is your duty."

"Be silent!" Rhonwyn suddenly snapped. "You overstep your bounds, Nilak. My entire life I have done my duty and never once shirked. If it is Allah's will that I give the caliph a child, then I shall. Now, leave me, all of you. I would be alone with my thoughts."

The three serving women withdrew, and Rhonwyn walked out into her small garden. The little fountain with its splashing water was soothing to her, and she very much needed to calm herself after her meeting with Baba Haroun. The heady scent of the Damascus roses touched her nostrils, lulling her into a more placid frame of mind. She walked slowly down the crushed marble path to the carved stone bench that overlooked the mountains. Her vista faced west, she knew, for each evening she watched the sun set behind those forbidding dark peaks. Once, with Nilak and Halah holding on to her tightly, she had gone to the edge of her garden and peered down. There had been nothing below but rocks and a gray-green scrub growth. She had gotten dizzy, and her servants had hauled her back. Anyone falling from this height would surely be killed.

"Nilak tells me you have spoken to Baba Haroun about having a child." Rashid al Ahmet sat down beside his second wife.

"Nilak takes much upon herself," Rhonwyn replied, irritated.

"She but wants your happiness," he said, taking her hand in his and kissing her fingers one by one.

"I am happy," Rhonwyn said. "She does not understand that being with you is my happiness, Rashid. Why do you want a child of me? You have children, so it cannot be your vanity, for you could satisfy that urge on any of your women whenever it pleased you."

"I want a child of you because I love you," he said quietly, and drawing her into his arms, he began to kiss her passionately. "I love you, Noor! I want our love to be complete, and only a child can give us that completion. Do you understand? Ah, yes, I believe that you do." He kissed the tears slipping from behind her closed eyelids.

"You make me ashamed for being so selfish," Rhonwyn said honestly. And he did, she thought sadly He did love her, but she did not love him. Not while Edward de Beaulieu still lingered in her memory.

He stroked her hair tenderly, and then his hand slipped within the opening of her kaftan, and he cupped one of her breasts in his palm. He fondled her, his thumb rubbing her nipple into a sharp point. She murmured softly, and reaching down, he drew the kaftan up and off her body, rendering her naked for his pleasure. Pulling her into his lap, he bent her backward slightly, his mouth closing over the sensitive peak. He suckled hungrily on it. Rhonwyn whimpered as her deep arousal began. He would not cease, she knew, until she had satisfied him, and he, her. Her hands reached out to caress him.

He nursed upon both her breasts until they were actually sore. Then his mouth moved across her torso, and it was as if his lips were lire upon her skin. When he kissed her hard upon her smooth Venus mons, a bolt of lightning seemed to penetrate her body, and she shuddered. His pointed tongue ran along the shadowed slash dividing her nether lips. It teased her, down and up and down again. He lay her upon the stone bench and, kneeling before her, used his two thumbs to open her to his view.

"You are like a pink shell from the sea," he told her. "Your little jewel is perfectly formed. It but waits for my touch, my beautiful, my exquisite wife."

The point of his tongue touched her, and Rhonwyn gasped as a sensation, more acute than any she had ever before felt, slammed into her. "Rashid!" She could say no more. The wonder of his passion was too intense for her. Each day it seemed to increase.

He laughed as her love juices pearled upon her coral flesh. "Can I not teach you patience, my love?" he gently scolded her. Then opening his robes, he revealed his engorged manhood and, straddling the bench, he lowered himself upon her. He thrust deep, smiling as she gasped aloud with his fierce entry. Then gathering her into his arms, he murmured as he raised them both up into a seated position. "Wrap your limbs about me, Noor, as I stand." Then he arose and walked, carrying her into her bedchamber where he pressed her up against a wall and began to move upon her.

Rhonwyn's eyes widened with surprise, and he laughed.

"Here is something new for you," he teased her as she clung to him, her arms tight about his neck.

"It is interesting," she managed to say, "but I want you atop me, my lord. I want to feel your weight upon me. Please!"

He laughed again. "How you have changed, my precious one," he told her, but he complied, moving to her bed and falling with her upon it.

"Yes!" she cried out. "Yes! Oh, that is good, my lord! Do not cease this pleasure, I beg you! Do not cease!" Her legs still wrapped about him, she tightened the muscles of her love channel around his plunging lance and smiled wickedly into his eyes when he groaned. "Do I please you, my Rashid?" she demanded. Her nails dug into his shoulders. "Alia swears you liked this." She tightened herself again.

"I do," he groaned. "Oh, my love, I do!"

Then she forced his passion from him, and his love juices filled her as Rhonwyn sighed her own deep pleasure. Once Edward had told her that a shared passion was a better passion, and it was. She wondered how much greater her pleasure would be if she loved this man called Rashid al Ahmet who now lay upon her breasts, gasping with his own exertions. Absently she stroked his dark head, wondering as she did how long it would be before she could escape Cinnebar and return to her husband, Edward de Beaulieu. To show him that her fears were gone and that she could love him completely and freely. For that they owed the caliph of Cinnebar a great debt, but she suspected that she could not dwell too greatly upon that fact.

She was eager to learn the plans for her escape, but Baba Haroun said nothing, and some weeks went by before he finally called her into his private chamber. Rhonwyn went, her heart hammering, not knowing if he meant to kill her or give her her freedom. Her beautiful face, however, showed no hint of her fears. "You sent for me?" she said, bowing politely to him.

"The plan is completed," he replied without any preamble.

She raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Tonight," he said low. "Your women will be given a bit of poppy in their mint tea to assure their deep slumber. I will come for you myself, Noor. The shattered bones are ready to place along with the kaftan in which your women see you last. It will be shredded and scattered along with your unique hair. It will be enough to convince all that you have fallen and perished."

"How will you place all of the debris?" she questioned him.

He smiled enigmatically. "You cannot see it from your terrace, of course, but there is a small door just below it. Such entries are common in this palace. They were placed there as a means of escape when the palace was built. lew know where they are located, not even the caliph, but I do. I will personally place these items on the rocks below before I aid you in your flight, Noor. Now, no more questions. If Nilak queries you, tell her we have decided the time is propitious for you to have a child. The caliph wishes it, and the lady Alia wishes it. Then later I shall speak to her myself regarding the matter."

"What if the caliph wants to visit my bed tonight?" Rhonwyn said.

"He will not," Baba Haroun said with assurance.

"How can you be certain?" she demanded.

The chief eunuch chuckled. "Because he will be tasting the charms of a red-haired virgin from the Basque region I recently purchased for him in the marketplace for just this occasion. The caliph has a particular weakness for virgins. Her initiation into the amatory arts will keep him busy the entire night. Surely you understand his appetites for passion by now, Noor."

"Indeed," Rhonwyn said. He claimed love for her, yet he could be tempted by a virgin, she thought irritably.

"Go now," Baba Haroun said. "1 will come for you when the time is at hand."

"My brother?"

"Will be waiting along with those two rather disreputable fellows he travels with. Oth and Dewi, I believe they are called," Baba Haroun said.

"They are not disreputable," she said softly. "They are the kindest and best of men, Baba Haroun. They helped to raise me."

"So they told me, and in the most execrable Arabic I have ever heard spoken aloud," Baba Haroun said dryly. "They love you even as I love my mistress, Noor. That more than anything else convinced me that I was doing the right thing in helping you to escape Cinnebar."

She caught up his two large brown hands and kissed them. "Thank you! Thank you, Baba Haroun!"

He was startled by her generous gratitude. He drew his hands from her light grip. "You know why I aid you, Noor, and yet in doing so I must betray my master. I do it gladly for the lady Alia, but I will bear the guilt all my days. Rashid al Ahmet truly loves you. Your death will pain him greatly. I do not know if I shall ever be able to compensate him for your loss, but I will try."

"Do you censure me then, Baba Haroun, for my desire to leave Cinnebar?" Rhonwyn asked him.

"You cannot help yourself, Noor. In your heart you hold a memory of love for Edward de Beaulieu. All my master's love cannot hope to overcome that other love. So, I will help you to go this night."

There was nothing left to say, Rhonwyn knew, and so she bowed again to the chief eunuch. His words made her feel sad, and yet she could not change how she felt. She hurried from Baba Haroun s private chamber, swallowing back her excitement as she did. She must not be stopped now. Not when her freedom was so close!

RHONWYN 1273-1274

Rhonwyn looked down upon Nilak. The older woman slept hard, snoring softly in her drugged slumber. Reaching out, Rhonwyn gently touched the woman's head in tender farewell. Nilak had been so good to her. "Don't put her to minding the children,'' she said softly to Baba Haroun. "She hated it."