Love and Adventure Collection - Part 1 (Love and Adventure Boxed Sets)

by Jennifer Blake

  Julia pressed her lips together, reluctant to antagonize him further.

  “Well?”

  “Freedom. They could want freedom. The right to come and go as they pleased without having to answer to a guard, like prisoners, effendi.”

  “The guard is there for their protection.”

  “Then, why does he have the right to punish them, O illustrious dey?”

  “Order must be maintained.”

  “No doubt, given the frayed tempers and overwrought nerves of the women, caused by their confinement effendi.”

  “A high emotional state is natural to women,” he declared.

  “How can you presume to judge, never having seen women outside of purdah, O Prince of the Faithful?”

  “Are they so different in your country, then?”

  Julia could not, in all honesty, answer that question with an unqualified affirmative. “Some are,” she temporized, “but some are not, primarily because they are just as confined by their husbands, their children, and their duties as are the ladies of your harem.”

  He nodded slowly. “This is the fate of women. Why should it distress them? Why can they not accept it and be calm and happy?”

  “While it may be their fate to bear children, it is not the nature of any human being or animal to accept confinement calmly and happily. It doesn’t matter whether confinement is effected by ornate iron grills or by the tentacles of laws made by men.”

  “Is this why you have never married then. Because you feared to lose your freedom?”

  This was dangerous ground. Julia made her answer with care. “Not entirely, for I realize that it is possible for a woman to fashion her own freedom, even within the limitations of marriage. I was happy with my father, making a home for him, caring for our people, and I had found no man with whom I was willing to live, no man whose children I was willing to bear.”

  “And, when your father died, did nothing change?”

  It was an effort for Julia, thinking of the child she had lost, to bring her thoughts to bear. “There was not an immediate change,” she denied, carefully blanking images of Rud aboard the Sea Jade from her memory. “I continued the journey my father and I had begun, spoke to Napoleon on St. Helena as he wished. Much would have been altered when I returned to New Orleans, however. I suppose I would have gone to live with relatives, or sought refuge in marriage if I could have found a man who would take a dowerless bride.”

  “Ah, yes, the Emperor Napoleon,” the dey said, losing interest in her background as she had hoped he would at the mention of this man in whom he had expressed an interest. “I have followed the career of this ruler with much closeness. You spoke at length with him, I think.”

  “Yes, that was my good fortune, O Ruler of the Age,” she answered, remembering to use his title once more. It did not seem wise to disappoint the dey in this particular. If she was to discuss the emperor with any degree of believability, she must admit to a lengthy acquaintance and hope that it would be assumed it had taken place during the visit to St. Helena. What a claim she might have had to his attention if she could have revealed the true events of Napoleon’s last days! That could not be, even to assure herself of the place as favorite. History, the emperor had been fond of saying, was a lie agreed upon. It had been his will that history show he died a martyr upon the island of St. Helena. This was to be his final victory against the hated English, and she could not, would not, jeopardize it.

  “Great men are a rarity. They occur seldom, perhaps no more than one or two in every century.”

  “This is so, effendi,” Julia said in formal agreement.

  “I would have been honored to have conversed with this man who commanded great armies, deploying them with greater skill than any man since Alexander the Macedonian, a man who demanded other kings to pay him homage, and yet, one who was able to govern with the cunning and wisdom of Solomon the Wise, son of David. Since I cannot speak to him I would have you tell me what you can.”

  They talked deeply and long. Julia drew upon the opinions and thoughts revealed to her in the days when she and Napoleon Bonaparte had strolled the decks of a flying ship, and the times when she had, at the emperor’s request, sat writing down his views while he paced up and down before her. She managed to make satisfactory answers to most of the questions put by the dey. She had not realized herself the extent and range of the subjects which she had discussed with Napoleon. History had been almost a mania with him. The great military campaigns of ancient times had been as familiar to him as his own. He knew of the lives, times, and contributions of the Greek and Roman philosophers. Law had been another fascination. He had considered that his Napoleonic Code would stand as the most lasting memorial of his reign in France. In it, he had ended for all time the practice of great estates being passed to a single, firstborn heir, and he had made it impossible for a widow and her children to be disinherited, providing for fair and equal succession to property. But science had been his greatest love, and he had often said that if he had not been forced into the traditional life of a soldier he would have liked to devote his life to an exploration of that branch of knowledge.

  The dey shook his head when they came at last to an end of Julia’s memories. “To have accomplished so much in such a short time! He must have been an indefatigable worker.”

  “Indeed he was, effendi. He seldom slept more than four or five hours in a night. He was up at dawn and worked well into the dark hours. Sometimes he would rise at three in the morning, summon his secretary, and dictate until first light.”

  “Ah, such industry fatigues me merely to think of it. I will seek my couch now, Kobah, my bringer of delight. You have given me great pleasure such as I would repeat another day. You will await my summons on the morrow.”

  “It shall be as you desire, O illustrious dey,” she replied.

  A bell was rung for Basim, and a short time later, Julia found herself back in her chamber in the harem. As she laid herself down upon her couch alone, she gave a trembling sigh of weariness, and of gratitude that the ordeal was behind her. She would not think about tomorrow, or the next day, or all the days that must follow.

  16

  The hot winds of summer swirled about the palace, making uncomfortable eddies in the suffocating heat, stirring up the smells of hot stone, decay, and camel dung. They evaporated the water in fountains of the gardens, withered the roses, lilies, and tuberoses, set the palm to a constant dry rattling, and made the flies swarm. They blew up sudden squalls of rain that fell hissing on the hot stone floors of the courts and gardens. Gradually, they died away, leaving the dull lethargy of autumn.

  Except on the occasions when the dey bestirred himself to go hunting for wild boar and desert lions, Julia dined in his presence and spent several hours each evening at his side. Much of the time they talked, the dey finding amusement in her opinions and ideas. Julia sometimes thought it was as though a pet monkey had been trained to speak. Often as the elderly man listened he would caress her hair, running the silken strands through his dry fingers, or he would toy with her hands, taking pleasure from her — presence beside him without attending to what she said. At times, they played chess, a nerve wracking occupation for Julia since she had been warned that she must never defeat the dey, though she still had to give a good enough accounting of herself so that he did not become bored with the game. One day, inadvertently, she left a bishop standing so that his king was placed in check. She saw her mistake the moment it was done, but she could not correct it without drawing attention to the error. With wide eyes, she stared at him, hoping he would not notice. It was a futile hope.

  “Ah!” he cried, clapping his hands to his knees, his bright black eyes searching the board for some route of escape. The silence drew out between them. “Kobah!” he exclaimed, and reaching across the board, placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her toward him. His lips touched hers in a light, dry kiss. “Star of great beauty, I accept with gratitude the gift of your trust, for I no
w have the satisfaction of knowing you do not fear me!”

  It was true. Though she did not like to kindle his anger, Julia was no longer frightened that he would wreak some terrible vengeance upon her for disagreeing with him. She thought that he enjoyed their arguments, though he never quite lost the look of surprise when she failed to applaud his pronouncements. She often witnessed harsh judgments when he held court, which he commanded her to attend so that they might later discuss the cases. Nevertheless, she had come to the conclusion that he was not a cruel man. Like the Emperor Napoleon, he considered that quick and severe punishment acted as a deterrent to crime. He believed in the example set to warn a convicted felon’s fellows. If an innocent man was sometimes caught in the net of the law, it could not be helped. A single man did not count. The object was the greatest good for the largest number.

  The dey wanted to remove Julia from the harem and place her in private apartments with her own retinue of servants. On the advice of the Lady Fatima, Julia pleaded to be allowed to remain with the other women. She was just as happy herself not to be so honored. There was no way of knowing how long the interest of the dey would last. He might grow bored with her within a week or a month. She might only begin to be settled in the private apartments before she would be sent ignominiously back to the common room. So far removed from the harem, she would not be able to enjoy the company of Jawharah as often as she would like. During the daylight hours, when the dey was involved with the business of ruling Algeria, she would be left to her own devices. There could be only so much time spent in eating, bathing, and dressing. What would she do then to entertain herself and keep her servants busy?

  Reluctantly, the dey had acceded to her wishes. Foiled of conferring his recognition and sign of favor upon her in one way, he simply chose another. He inundated her with gifts. Her chamber bid fair to becoming as crowded with beautiful and precious things as the cave of the fortunate Ali Baba — or the apartments of the Lady Fatima. So many jewels were presented to her, so many rich fabrics draped about her, that she began to suspect that Mehemet Dey would not be displeased if it became reputed in the city that he had taken more than a mental joy of his new white harem slave.

  Slowly, it came to Julia’s notice that she was being treated to an ever increasing degree of deference. The women of the harem, especially those who had slighted her before, began to make gestures of friendship, complimenting her appearance and soliciting her opinion on everything from the weather to the change of a hair style. Even Mariyah ceased to be openly harassing, withdrawing into sullen resentment. Servants in all parts of the palace smiled upon her and moved with quickness to do her bidding. Basim the dwarf began to confer with her as an equal, explaining the likes and dislikes of their master and enlisting her aid in persuading him to have a care for his health. In the corridors of the palace, the courtiers and hangers-on always moved at once from her path, then stood watching her progress from the corners of sly, inquisitive eyes. In this manner, she realized that she had become the favorite of the dey in actuality as well as in name.

  It was Jawharah who confirmed this transition for her, however. The Turkish woman claimed that the rank of the Lady of the Gold Bee was acknowledged not only in the palace, but also in the town. There, her beauty, her beneficial effect upon Mehemet Dey, the fact that she did not always bow meekly to his will, and his great indulgence of her were known as well. In zestful recognition of what they saw as his infatuation, she had begun to be known in the streets of Algiers as Jullanar, the Keeper of the Honey.

  The only person who refused to acknowledge Julia’s improved status was the Lady Fatima. The wife of the dey retreated behind a cold hauteur, leaving Julia to the unwelcome suspicion that she was jealous even of the woman she herself had helped to rise in the affections of the dey.

  Regardless of the woman’s attitude, Julia was ever mindful of the duty she owed to her and Ali Pasha, and of her promise to further the cause of the dey’s nephew. This last she did to the best of her ability. She did not fall into the error of criticizing Kemal; she praised him, but with a doubtful, even fastidious, look in her eyes. Greatly daring, she hinted on one occasion that the emperor of France had distrusted men of Kemal’s sexual preference. Ali Pasha she did not extol, though she was brought grudgingly to concede, after her first sight of him in the audience chamber, that he did bear some slight resemblance to Mehemet Dey, her master. He was just such a desert hawk as the dey must have been in his youth, with booked nose, black beard, dark, shining eyes, and the hard, muscular body of a horseman.

  Making this small contribution to the cause of Ali Pasha troubled her not at all. The more she saw of him, the more convinced she became that he was the rightful heir to the throne of Algiers.

  Conversely, the more she saw of Kemal and his pretty following, the less willing she was to see him take his grandfather’s place.

  In vain did she look for Rud in the audience on court days at the side of the man who was rumored to be his friend. He never appeared. Once in a great while, like some dim, far-off echo of a time long past, news of the comings and goings of the ship he had helped to build and launch was heard. Whether he stood at the helm or lay rotting somewhere at the bottom of the sea, she did not know. She told herself she did not care, that her interest was mere idle curiosity or the impulse to rejoice that he was so powerless. If she longed to see him, it was because she wanted to witness his humiliation. Seeing him might ease the torment she still felt at the way she had been used. In the cool autumn nights, as she allowed her mind to linger on the weeks and months they had spent at the house at Berkeley Square and aboard both the David and the Sea Jade, the muscles of her stomach tightened slowly with cramp and she lay with clenched fists staring wide-eyed into the dark.

  Her second winter in Algiers closed around Julia. Following a trip to the harbor with Kemal, during which the two of them were caught in a sudden cold rainstorm, Mehemet Dey became ill with pneumonia. Though he conquered the disease, it took much of his precious strength. At Julia’s suggestion, while he was convalescing, he delegated a portion of his duties to Kemal and a portion to Ali Pasha. This division so enraged his grandson that Kemal stormed into his sleeping chamber trailing perfume and ribbons, and there enacted a scene of such shrill tragedy that Mehemet Dey was visibly repulsed. He sent his grandson away with words of anger so forbidding that Kemal did not dare approach him for a month.

  Sulking, nursing his injured dignity, Kemal neglected the duties given him. The different manner in which Ali Pasha carried out his appointed tasks was marked. Making quick, capable decisions, the nephew of the dey yet reported each of his actions to his uncle for approval. His attitude was respectful without being obsequious, an expression of the esteem in which he held the aging ruler.

  Returning to the harem one night following an evening with the dey in which he had praised Ali Pasha, Julia reflected on how much she had accomplished. Given a little more time, it appeared likely that Mehemet Dey would support his nephew as his successor. She could not take all the credit for the change. Kemal, in his fawning sycophancy and his childish sullens, had done little to bolster his own prospects.

  Bidding Abdullah goodnight at the door, she stepped into the communal chamber of the harem. As on the night she had arrived, it was dark; the solid blinds were closed and the room was lit only by the hallway lanterns. Even the brazier in the center of the room had lost its red glow, though it still gave forth a faint, radiating warmth. Treading her careful way across the room between the low divans and dozens of small tables, Julia glanced around uneasily. There was a strangeness in the air this night, an odd feeling she could not quite define.

  Abruptly, she came to a halt. A shadow moved upon the wall near the head of the hall leading to her sleeping chamber, a shadow that was not her own. For long moments, she stood still, inspecting the dimness around her with narrowed eyes. Seldom left alone for an instant from morning until night, she felt at the moment as isolated as if she had stepped into
a deserted house echoing with loneliness.

  The shadow moved again, a fluctuation of light and darkness. It undulated with a stately slowness, like a heavy curtain moving in a draft. Suddenly, she realized the source of the shadow. One of the tall blinds which led into the garden was not quite closed. The night wind through the aperture was causing the lanterns to flare.

  Releasing her breath in a long sigh, Julia started toward the opening. As she reached for the handle of the door, the heavy panel swung wider. A woman wrapped in a burnoose slipped through the opening.

  Julia stepped back, disbelief making her face blank. To be caught outside the harem after dark had fallen would be to invite the sternest punishment. If not the kurbash, then the bastinado, the long thick rod applied to the soles of the bare feet, a method of chastisement which could leave the culprit crippled for life. If examination proved that the purpose of the nighttime outing had been for carnal reasons, then death by strangulation was the preferred method of correction. To understand why anyone would risk so much was one thing; to discover them actually doing it was something entirely different.

  The woman was Mariyah. Face pale, eyes dilated with shock, she stared at Julia. Then, her pointed chin came up.

  “You are late coming from the bed of the dey.” She sneered. “Odd, you do not look tired.”

  Julia recognized the ploy for what it was, an attempt to put her on the defensive. She knew that she should raise her voice at once, summon Abdullah, wake the harem, draw witnesses to the scene. She could not. She had no wish to be the cause of such a terrible punishment being inflicted on anyone, much less another woman. “Strange,” she said. “I feel so tired, so exhausted and sleepy, that I can barely see. Since you have gotten up out of your bed to shut this open door, I will allow you to complete the task. We must inform Abdullah of it tomorrow. Obviously the latch is defective.”