It was the beginning of an incredible week. Skye had never been
loved so tenderly, so passionately, so expertly, so completely. There
was not a part of her he did not explore and worship, and he en-
couraged her to do the same with his body. Gradually she lost her
shyness, became bold and caressed him in subtle ways that left him
moaning. They made love in the early hours of the dawn, in the heat
of the afternoon, in the dark of night. They swam naked in the foaming azure sea. They hunted antelope from horseback with their
hunting cats, beautifully trained panthers, loping by their sides.
Another discovery had been made by then-Skye could ride astride
quite expertly. Once again he gifted her, this time with an exquisite
golden Arab mare.

In the time they spent at the Pearl Kiosk they were provided for
and waited on by an army of invisible servants who saw to every
need. Delicious meals magically appeared, as did fresh clothes.
When they desired to hunt, their horses and cats awaited them at the
Kiosk front. Hot, scented baths were ready upon their return. Every-
thing was done to make this time together perfect.

On the night before their return she lay half awake, exhausted by
their lovemaking, content to listen to Khalid’s even breathing. Sud-
denly she was aware that she had never been so happy. He surrounded
her with love, security, everything she could want. Why was it,
then, that she could still not give him her heart?

They rode back into the city of Algiers on the following morning.
They were dressed identically in white. The sleek black panthers
were by their sides, leashed, but nonetheless causing a stir as they
moved through the crowded streets of the lower city. That same day,
when they had resettled themselves, Khalid el Bey took his wife into
the library where Jean sat working.

“Ho, Jean! I bring you a pupil.”

The little Frenchman looked up with a smile. “Welcome home,
my lord Khalid! Welcome home, my lady Skye! Who is to be my
pupil, and in what?”

“I want you to teach the lady Skye the intricacies of my business.
Should something ever happen to me she would be helpless without
a thorough knowledge of it. Since she can already read, write, and
speak in four languages it should not prove difficult as long as she
can grasp simple mathematics.”

“What are mathematics?” asked Skye.

“Here, mistress,” Jean wrote a simple sum on a parchment. “If
you take one hundred dinars and add to them another fifty dinars
you have-“

“One hundred and fifty dinars.” replied Skye, “and by the same
token if you have one hundred and fifty dinars and take or subtract
from them seventy-five dinars you will have remaining seventy-
five.”

The two men looked at each other in complete surprise, and Skye
said, “Is that not correct, Khalid? Have I made an error?”

“No, my Skye, you have not made an error. You are quick and
quite correct, is she not, Jean?”

“Indeed, my lord. Indeed!”

The bey laughed. “I think I leave you in good hands, my love.
Do not be too hard on my good Jean, for he is invaluable to me.”
Khalid walked from the room, laughing softly to himself.

Skye seated herself demurely at the library table, looked expec-
tantly at Jean, who was suddenly a little fearful that he had that
rarest of creatures on his hands-an intelligent woman. Drawing a
deep breath, he plunged into the business at hand.

For the next few weeks Skye spent most of her days with Khalid
and Jean, closeted in the library, and she suddenly understood the
true nature of her husband’s business. She was shocked for a while.
Then, realizing that Khalid had not invented prostitution, she ac-
cepted it.

She quickly understood that each house Khalid owned had to be
treated as a separate entity. Those located on the waterfront, serving
sailors of all nations, were provisioned far differently from the House
of Felicity. The waterfront brothels served only beer, but in the
House of Felicity and its two sister houses, the menu was quite
varied. Even the women varied with the different establishments.
On the waterfront, pretty but sturdy peasant girls were the choice,
girls who might easily service two dozen men a day without ill
effect.

Young women bought for Khalid’s more elegant brothels were
all beauties carefully schooled in proper Arabic and French so they
might converse well. They were also taught good manners, hygiene,
and elegant ways of dressing. Their sexual skills were excellent.
The men who bought their company bought it for an entire evening.

All of Khalid el Bey’s waterfront brothels worked their women
five days a week and allowed them rest for two days. This neces-
sitated keeping records on who was working and who was not. Each
of these women received a hundredth portion of the fee collected
for her services each night, and at the end of five years was given
her freedom and the monies accrued. Most married and settled down.
Some, however, took to the streets and were quickly lost. Others
hired themselves out to lesser brothels and quickly found themselves
overworked and disease-ridden. Most brothel keepers were not as
careful with their women as Khalid el Bey, who kept two Moorish
doctors on his staff and had his women checked weekly for the pox.

All of this meant voluminous records, and Skye found herself
becoming very interested in her husband’s business dealings. His
brothels involved not only the care and well-being of people and
property but the provisioning of those people and the upkeep of the
oroperty.

Problems were tripled in the more elegant brothels, for the women
here had to be exquisitely clothed and jeweled. They needed oil baths and wore only the finest perfumes. But despite his vast outlay,
Khalid el Bey was a rich man. Profits far exceeded expenses. And
these profits had to be invested.

This was the thing that interested Skye the most, the investment
of her husband’s funds. Some of the money was placed with a
goldsmith, Judah ben Simon. Some of it had been put into portable
wealth such as loose gem stones. The rest was invested with the
adventure ships belonging to an Englishman called Robert Small.
It was shortly after their return from the Pearl Kiosk that Skye met
this bluff sea captain.

One night as she and Khalid sat listening to love songs sung by
a sweet-voiced slave girl, an uproar ensued from the courtyard of
the house. Her husband leaped to his feet laughing and Skye could
hear a booming voice saying, “Now, laddie, your master may be
a-laying,with one qf his fancy pieces, but believe me, he’ll stop to
see me. Out of my way! Damme, Khalid, you old Moor. Where are
you?” The door to the chamber flew open and’ a tiny-legged man
strode into the room.

He was a most fantastic sight. His colorful clothes included puffed
and slashed red velvet breeches, black silk stockings, a red velvet
doublet embroidered in gold and silver thread, a long cape, and a
flat hat with an egret plume. On a tall man the clothing might not
have been so fantastic, but Robert Small stood only five feet tall.
Powerfully built, he had sandy-brown hair and his eyes were a
snapping blue. His round, weathered face was mischievous and
kindly while also being the homeliest Skye had ever seen. The little
man was as freckled as a thrush’s egg. “Ha! There you be, Khalid,
and as usual you’ve got some rare beauty by your side.”

“Robbie, you’re a wicked old man, and so I’ve no compunction
in springing this surprise on you. The ‘rare beauty’ is my wife!”

“God assoil my soul, Khalid el Bey! True?” The bey nodded, and
the Englishman bowed low to Skye. “My humblest apologies,
madam. I hope you’ll not think ill of me.” Then, realizing he’d
spoken English, he said, “Khalid. I know not what language your
lady speaks. You’ll tell her for me?”

‘There is no need, sir,” said Skye sweetly. “I fully comprehend
you, and am not in the least offended. It’s quite natural you should
think me a whore, considering the nature of my husband’s business.
Now, however, you will excuse me, for I imagine you’ve much to
talk about with my lord.” She rose gracefully and, smiling mis-
chievously, left the room.

The little Englishman chuckled. “How,” he asked, “did a renegade
Spaniard-tumed-Arab end up with an Irish wife?”

“Irish? Skye is Irish?”

“God almighty, man! Didn’t she tell you?”

“She doesn’t know, my old friend. Several months ago I bought
myself a rather bedraggled and frightened waif from a corsair captain.
He had gotten her from an outbound captain who claimed to have
captured her in a skirmish. He knew nothing of her history. When
Skye regained her full senses she had no memory excepting her
name.”

“And so you married her! Lord, man, you’re a romantic at heart.”

“Wrong!” Khalid el Bey poured the Englishman a tiny cup of
sweet Turkish coffee. “I had intended to make her the finest and
most expensive whore the world had ever seen.”

Robert Small sucked his breath in sharply. “Did you indeed,
laddie? And pray tell what stopped you?”

“I fell in love with her, my friend. Not with just her face and
luscious body, but with the woman I began to see emerging. She
is without guile, and generous as well. She is also the least greedy
female I have ever known, and when she looks at me with those
marvelous blue eyes of hers I am lost, Robbie! Very soon, the
thought of anyone other than myself touching her enraged me. I
found that I wanted children and a loving wife, like a normal man.”

“God help you, then, my friend, for you have a weakness now,
and your enemies will use it against you. As long as the great
Whoremaster of Algiers showed no vulnerability he was inviolable.”

“Don’t fret, Robbie, I have no enemies. Even my women respect
me.”

“Don’t be a fool, Khalid!” It was said sharply. “All wealthy and
powerful men have enemies. Look closely to yourself and to that
beauty you’ve married.”

For a few minutes the two men sat silently sipping their coffee,
then Robert Small spoke. “I’ve made you richer again, Khalid. The
ships we sent to the New World have returned laden with precious
metals, jewels, and furs. The ones that traveled south returned with
spices, slaves, and gemstones. I have, as usual, saved the cream of
the female slaves for you to see.”

Khalid el Bey was all business now. “Did we lose any ships or
men?”

“No ships, but three men were lost on the Swan, off the Horn.
It was a particularly bad storm, the captain tells me, but he didn’t
lose one slave.”

“Good! And you, Robbie, how was your voyage?”

The captain chuckled and stretched his short frame out on the
pillows, his hands behind his head. “Ah, Khalid, I wish you’d been
with me. How often you’ve warned me of men’s greed, and the
vulnerability that greed brings in. And you were right! I found us a mine manager in the Spanish Americas who is a younger son with
no hope other than to end his days a rum-soaked wreck. His oldest
brother, their father’s heir, married the girl he loved, and then ar-
ranged for him to be sent from Spain. He burns for vengeance, and
so he has agreed to help us obtain six shiploads of gold for a per-
centage and passage back to Europe. It was a cheap price to pay,
Khalid. We filled three ships this trip, and I’ve already sent three
other ships.”

“And how did this young don cover the theft? And how can we
be sure he’ll not betray us?”

“The first theft was covered by causing a mine to cave in. It’ll
take months to clear it out, by which time we’ll have returned for
the second load from the other mine. It will not matter if the Spaniards
learn then that they have been robbed, for we’ll be all long gone by
that time. The young don has a half-Spanish, half-Indian mistress
he intends to marry and take to Paris with him. He can live quite
well on what we pay him.

“The mines he oversees give up the purest gold I’ve ever seen,
Khalid! The other ships in our fleet have carried back the finest furs
imaginable, along with basketsful of turquoise, coral, jade, ame-
thyst, emeralds, and topaz. I have, as usual, saved a choice selection
of furs and gems for you, along with some excellent Indian pearls
and spices from the Southern fleet. Everything else has been disposed
of through our regular channels, and your monies are already with
your banker.”

“You are generous, Robbie, and quite thorough, as always. Per-
haps you will allow me to do a little something for you now. Your
ship was sighted by friends of mine this morning, and I knew you
would be with me by evening. Go to the House of Felicity, and you
will find a surprise waiting for you.”

The Englishman grinned delightedly. “Ah, Khalid, you didn’t
have to go to any trouble.”

The Whoremaster of Algiers grinned back, “She’s quite to your
liking, Robbie. Go along now so I may rejoin my own lady.”