"I understand, my lady Alia," the chief eunuch said, bowing again, and then he turned to Rhonwyn and bowed once more. "I will escort the lady Noor to her quarters," he said to Nilak.
Nilak gasped with her surprise. Never before had Baba Haroun bowed to any other woman in the harem but Alia. She imparted this information to her charge. Rhonwyn arose, and taking Alia's hands in hers, she kissed them. Then she followed the chief eunuch from the apartments of the caliph's wife without another word, Nilak scurrying in her wake.
When they were once again in Rhonwyn's chambers, Baba Haroun said to Nilak, "You will tell your mistress that I am her friend and mentor as long as she is true to the lady Alia. Should she ever betray my mistress, I will personally strangle her with my bare hands."
"You will tell the chief eunuch," Rhonwyn replied when Nilak had translated, "that I am a prince's daughter, and betrayal is not in my nature. I am grateful for lady Alia's friendship and the wise counsel she has provided me with. I will be grateful for the counsel and friendship of Baba Haroun as well."
The chief eunuch smiled slightly, then asked, "Are you truly reconciled to this life that it has been fated you will now lead, Noor?"
Rhonwyn shook her head. "Not yet," she told him.
"Your honesty is to be commended," Baba Haroun said. Then he bowed to her again and departed the chamber.
"Oh, fortunate girl!" Nilak cried. "How can you fail to succeed now with the aid of both the lady Alia and Baba Haroun? You must rest, for the caliph will desire your presence tonight surely."
"I am hungry," Rhonwyn complained. "I have had nothing but sweets since I awoke. I want a meal else I faint in the caliph's arms from starvation, Nilak. How will you explain that?"
"If you faint in the caliph's arms, Noor, he will think you are overcome with passion for him, which is to the good," Nilak teased.
"Chicken," Rhonwyn said firmly.
"I will go to the kitchens myself," Nilak said, and hurried from the chamber.
She had been gone but a few moments when two young slave girls entered the apartments and bowed to Rhonwyn.
"Halah," said one, pointing to herself.
"Sadirah," said the other, making the same gesture.
They then set about preparing a small table for Rhonwyn's meal, chattering to each other as they did so. Rhonwyn realized these were the two serving girls Alia had promised her. They looked harmless enough, although she knew everything she did would be reported back to the caliph's wife even as Nilak reported her words. She smiled to herself and sat next to the fountain in her gathering room. To her surprise it had several water lilies and four small golden fish who swam busily about, darting amid the lily pads. She sighed. Everything about her was so peaceful and beautiful. It was probably the most idyllic place in which she had ever been.
Rising, she walked out into her garden. The mountains beyond and below the edge of the terrace were a hazy blue. She suspected that on a clear day she might even sec the sea beyond. She needed to get to the sea. By the sea was Carthage-and the crusaders' encampment. How long now had she been gone from Edward. Six days? Seven? She had to find him again. She had to get back to him. What did he think happened to her? Would he have determined that the warrior who was captured was his wife? Had he looked for her? Would he indeed appear in Cinnebar, demanding her release? Oh, Edward, she thought sadly. What have I done? I love you! I love you! But will I ever see you again? She felt the tears coursing down her pale cheeks and struggled to regain control of herself. She looked up, startled at a touch on her shoulder.
Halah stood by her side, and the young slave girl pointed back inside. Then she made eating motions with her hands and mouth.
Rhonwyn nodded, giving the girl a weak smile. Brushing the evidence of tears from her cheeks, she arose and reentered her apartments where Nilak was busily setting out a meal with Sadi-rah's aid. Rhonwyn's nose twitched. There was indeed chicken, a small whole one stuffed with rice and raisins. There was a dish of cooked grain with bits of onion in it, flat bread, a honeycomb, and a bowl of fresh fruit. Bhonwyn sat down and began to eat eagerly, tearing the fowl in half and biting into it. "Delicious!" she pronounced, scooping up some of the stuffing with her fingers and popping it into her mouth.
"You eat like a ruffian," Nilak scolded. "Where are your manners, my child?"
"I'm hungry!" Rhonwyn protested. "I cannot even remember the last time I was fed. Do you mean to keep me half-starved all the time?"
"II you eat loo quickly, you will get pains," Nilak advised.
"I am thirsty," Rhonwyn replied.
Shaking her head in despair, Nilak poured fruit juice from a silver decanter into a silver goblet. "Drink slowly," she said. "Do you approve of the two slave girls Lady Alia has given you?"
"They seem pleasant and efficient," Rhonwyn remarked.
"They are. Tomorrow we will begin your lessons in Arabic, my child. Lady Alia is most anxious that you learn."
"I hope I have the facility for it," Rhonwyn said, "but then I learned the Norman tongue readily enough. My own language, Welsh, is difficult for outsiders to learn." Rhonwyn turned her attention again to her meal, eating almost everything that had been brought to her including a peach and a small bunch of grapes. When she had finished, her face and hands were bathed with scented water, and Halah cleaned her mouth and teeth.
"Now," Nilak said, "you must rest."
Rhonwyn did not argue. Her belly was comfortably full now, and it was hot. There was not even the slightest breeze stirring. Sadirah took her garments from her, and Nilak brushed her long gilt-colored hair. Rhonwyn was then content to lay naked upon the beautiful bed with its green silk gauze hangings, and was quickly asleep, her dark lashes brushing like small butterflies against her fair cheek.
"She is so beautiful," Halah said softly.
"They say the caliph fell in love with her at first sight," Sadirah murmured low.
"Do not be ridiculous," Nilak scolded them. "When the caliph first saw her she was garbed in men's clothing. I know, for I helped remove them. She was dirty and smelled like a stable."
"The gossip in Lady Alia's apartments is that he will make the lady Noor his wife now that Fatinah and Hasna are gone," Sadirah said. "That would mean our new mistress would be the second wife."
"If that is indeed so," Nilak replied, "then you have Lady Alia to thank for raising you up. You were merely two among many unimportant slave girls in her service. Now you are the serving women of the caliph's new favorite, who may possibly become his wife."
"She will be a wife. I am certain of it," Halah said. "We are fortunate. She would appear to be a kind lady like Lady Alia."
"She is," Nilak assured them, "There is no meanness in her."
The three women went about the business of removing all evidence of Rhonwyn's meal and neatening up the apartment. The afternoon slipped into evening. Eventually Nilak sent the two younger servants to bed, but she remained watching by her mistress's bed. She was not surprised when the caliph entered the bedchamber, garbed only in a loose white robe. Arising from Rhonwyn's side, she bowed silently to him and departed the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Rashid al Ahmet looked down upon the woman he called Noor, and his heart contracted in his chest. She had been in his possession two days, and while he certainly lusted after her, there was something more in his heart. He liked the contradictions of her. The fierceness and the vulnerability. He would never, he sensed, have all of her. There would always be a tiny something she would withhold from him, and therein lay the challenge. He removed his garment and lay down next to her. She was in a very deep sleep, and he was not surprised, considering all that had happened to her in the last week.
She had been on her side, but he gently drew her onto her back so he might look fully on her. His fingertips caressed her breasts, and she murmured contentedly. He smiled. Last night he had only begun to plumb the depths of her passions. He drew the back of his hand across her torso then, bending, began to ki
ss her lips with deep, hungry kisses.
Rhonwyn sighed and stretched lazily. The lips on hers were warm, and they grew more demanding with each passing moment. She faintly protested this intrusion into her sleep, but then she felt his lingers seeking between her nether lips. Two of the fingers pushed easily into her love channel while the ball of his thumb began to tease at the badge of her sex. His kisses were bruising her lips, but she didn't want him to stop. Her arms slipped up to embrace him. His thumb played with her until the tension was almost painful. She shuddered as it broke, but rather than stopping he began anew, arousing her again and this time to a greater height than before. Rhonwyn was now fully awake.
"Look at me, you adorable little bitch," he growled against her kiss-swollen mouth.
Rhonwyn's emerald green eyes opened and looked directly into those of Rashid al Ahmet. "As my lord wills," she said softly.
The two fingers thrust deep, and she cried out with undisguised pleasure. His white teeth flashed a smile against his sun-darkened skin. "Are you beginning to know passion?" he said provocatively. His thumb worried at her throbbing jewel.
"Yesss," she hissed, panting. "Oh, please!"
"Please what?" His tongue licked at her nipples.
"Please!" she repeated.
"Tell me what you want, my beauteous Noor," he replied.
"You!" she half sobbed.
He laughed low, and then rolling onto his back, he lifted her up, lowering her slowly on his raging manhood. When she was settled he reached up and began to fondle her breasts.
Rhonwyn was astounded. His manhood was deep inside her. She felt its length, hot and throbbing, yet it was she who would appear to be the dominant. Her eyes widened.
"Ride me, my adorable Noor. I am your stallion," Rashid al Ahmet told her. "Surely you are not afraid?"
She moved hesitantly at first, and then at his smile of open encouragement she began to move more surely upon him as he gently drew her forward, his hands slipping about to cup her buttocks.
"That's it, my beauty," he said. "Brace your hands, Noor. That's right, my precious. Ah! What pleasure you give me!"
Rhonwyn had found the proper rhythm now, and she rode the caliph enthusiastically for some minutes until he gently turned her onto her back, delving deeper into her softness, watching the change in expression on her lovely face, amazed when they attained nirvana together, crying out with utter satisfaction.
After some minutes Rashid al Ahmet laughed aloud. "What a woman you are becoming, my lovely Noor," he said.
Rhonwyn could feel that her cheeks were hot. She had been so wickedly bold, and she had liked it. "I never knew you could…"
"You are going to be astounded at what we can and will do together, my adorable one," he said, his deep laughter rumbling up again from his chest. "You are, I am pleased to note, an eager pupil." Leaning over, he kissed her again, running a finger along her bruised lips. "Do you like your apartments?"
"Aye, I do. Especially the garden with its sweeping views of the mountains, my lord."
"Good!" he said. "Are you hungry? I am. I have not eaten since morning."
"I shall have my servants bring you food, my lord Rashid," Rhonwyn said, arising from her bed. "And while we eat, will you tell me of your day?"
His dark blue eyes grew warm with approval. The whole palace was gossiping that he intended to make Noor his wife, but until this moment he had not decided the matter. It was a foolish man who thought only with his cock. Her newly unleashed passion was commendable, but it was her care for his welfare and her interest in his doings that brought about his final decision. He would indeed make Noor his wife. Like Alia, she was a nurturing creature, quite unlike the two who had been disposed of this day. And two wives, he thought, was more than enough for any man, even a caliph of Cinnebar. Tomorrow he would speak with the imam. "Aye, Noor," he said to her. "I will indeed share my day with you as we eat."
Chapter 11
“Well, Edward de Beaulieu," Prince Edward said, "do you think you are strong enough to continue on, or will you return to England? You have been very ill, and I will not count it against you, particularly under the circumstances."
"I will go on with you, my liege" came the answer, "but first I must seek my wife and Sir Fulk. They are surely being held captive nearby and can be ransomed."
"Perhaps," the prince responded, "but I wonder if that is so, for we have received no ransom demand, nor have we been attacked since that day when your wife so bravely led our men. What a woman! I should like to see her and her companion, Sir Fulk, safely returned."
"I will follow you in seven days' time, my lord, if I cannot find Rhonwyn. But I know that 1 will," de Beaulieu said tersely. The prince's remarks about his wife's courage were somehow irritating.
"I will pray God that you do, my friend, but if in seven days' time you have found no trace of her, then you must give up your search. She will have been either sold into slavery in some nameless place or ravaged and killed. I am very concerned that a week has gone by and we have had no word, but you must search, else you and your honor not be satisfied, I know. I surely would not be. You know the road to Acre." The prince patted Edward de Beau-lieu's shoulder.
"I have one favor to ask of you, my liege. Will your good wife take Rhonwyn's maidservant into her train until I find Rhonwyn? I cannot keep Enit safe among all these men, and she is a good lass, betrothed to one of my own people."
"Of course," Prince Edward said. "Have her gather her possessions, and I will escort her to Eleanor myself."
Enit began to weep when she was told of her fate. "Please, my lord, let me stay with you and wait for my mistress to return."
"Nay, Enit, it is not safe," de Beaulieu told her. "You will be reunited with your mistress in Acre, but in the meanwhile I know you will be secure with the princess's train. My search may be dangerous, and 1 cannot have you about to worry over. Now fetch your things and go with Prince Edward."
"Yes, my lord." Enit sniffled, but she did his bidding, gathering up her lew possessions and following forlornly after Prince Edward as be departed de Beaulieu's tent.
"There is one less worry,” Edward muttered almost to himself. He was still feeling weak, but at least he was on his feet again. In the morning he would take his two knights, and they would seek Rhonwyn and Sir Fulk. Rhonwyn. His wild Welsh wife. He didn't know whether he would kill her or kiss her when he found her. And Fulk! Where was his common sense that he allowed his lord's wife to run off into battle and then get them captured? To his credit Fulk had at least followed after Rhonwyn.
De Beaulieu understood that Rhonwyn was different from other women by virtue of her upbringing, but he had never liked it. He could even understand her desire to bloody her sword for the first time in a real combat, although most women he had known would have fainted at the mere thought of such a thing. Her mistake had been in becoming overconfident. Her passion for the battle should not have outweighed her caution, but it had, allowing her to be surrounded and then captured. But why had they taken her off and not simply killed her? He needed to know more than he already did. He called Sir Hugo into his presence and asked him to seek out someone who had been in the heat of the battle. Sir Hugo returned with a rather grizzled and gruff knight, Sir Arthur Sackville.
"I had heard it was a woman," Sir Arthur said, shaking his head with disbelief. "But I could not quite fathom such a thing. Your wife, you say?"
"Aye," Edward answered. "She is the daughter of ap Gruffydd, the prince of the Welsh."
"Magnificent creature!" Sir Arthur enthused admiringly. "She raced into the very center of it all, rallying us furiously! For the first time I felt our crusade was a truly holy and blessed thing, my lord. It was as if the angels were on her side."
"Did you see her capture? Why did they take her instead of simply killing her?" de Beaulieu pressed.
"They didn't really. She had just killed the nobleman who led the infidels. I think it was in coming to his defense they found themselves
surrounding your wife, although they certainly did not realize they had a woman. But they raced off with her in their midst. A single knight galloped after them, but I do not know his name."
"Sir Fulk," Edward said. "He was my man and should not have allowed Rhonwyn into battle, although even I know it would have been difficult to stop her once her mind was set on it. Who was the man she killed?"
"I have no idea, my lord de Beaulieu. One of their nobles by his garb. I am sorry I can help you no further," Sir Arthur said.
"Can you tell me in which direction they went?" Edward asked.
"Toward the mountains," the knight said. "Of that I am absolutely certain. They rode to the mountains, although why I do not understand. There is nothing out there, you know."
"There must be something, else why would they have gone that way?" Edward replied.
"Nomads and their flocks, perhaps, but nothing else." Sir Arthur paused as if considering his next words. Then he said, "My lord de Beaulieu, while the infidels could not have known at first that the knight who battled them so fiercely was a woman, they would have eventually found her out. They have surely ravaged her and killed her by now. Yours is a tragic loss, I realize, but you will have to accept it sooner or later, I fear. And if by some miracle your lady survived, would you want her back after other men had used her? Forgive me, de Beaulieu, for saying it, but she is lost to you. God help her, she is gone." He bowed to Edward. "I am sorry I could be of no real help to you." Then he exited the tent.
"Be ready to ride at moonrise," Edward said quietly to his two knights. "See to the horses and water now."
"He's mad," Sir Hugo later said as he and the other knight did their lord's bidding. "Sir Arthur is probably correct, and the lady is dead or worse."
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