A whisper of sound brought her up off the couch. The oil lamp overhead had spluttered and died long ago, but in the hallway outside, the lanterns still burned. Isabel was outlined in their flickering glow. Julia stepped into her slippers and glided to the door, slipping through the curtains with scarcely the clatter of a single bead to mark her passing. The other girl put her forefinger to her lips, then reached out and took Julia’s hand. Into the palm, she pressed something small and hard. Julia did not need to look to recognize the shape of her gold bee. Had Basim sent it as a sign that it was he who waited? The precaution had not been necessary, but she was glad to have the tiny brooch returned to her. She and it had been through much together.
Isabel turned, moving ahead of Julia down the dim corridor toward the common room.
The solid blinds, which closed off the common room at night, were standing slightly ajar, just as they had been on that evening when Julia had surprised Mariyah returning from a midnight outing. Now, Isabel stood aside and permitted Julia to go first into the garden. She quietly pulled the door to behind them.
The moon had not yet risen, but still the night was filled with gently moving shadows, each of which accelerated Julia’s heartbeat. The air was like velvet, absorbing sound so that it seemed they floated instead of walked to the end of the large, wall-enclosed rectangle. Basim stepped from behind a stone bench as they approached. He salaamed in mute greeting and turned away at once to the wall behind him.
Against the stone, still warm from the sun, were the espaliered peach trees. Their gnarled, outspread branches, fastened to the wall, were covered with dark-green leaves that rustled as the dwarf set his foot to the limbs and climbed them like steps. At the top of the wall, he gestured to Julia to ascend by the same path.
Julia turned to Isabel. “Your debt is paid. As I helped set you toward the wish of your heart, you have set me toward mine. Here we must part. I hope you find great happiness, Isabel, and become the mother of many children, all with your frank and generous soul.”
“Take care, Jullanar,” the girl replied. “There are many surprises in this world, some agreeable, some not. I would like to wish that all your surprises are pleasant ones.”
Julia felt a stab of apprehension at the strangeness of the girl’s words. There was no time for thought, however. With a quick embrace, she said a last goodbye and turned to the peach-tree ladder. The branches gave alarmingly beneath her feet; she was not as light as Basim. The leaves were damp-edged with dew and slippery, hiding the foot holds from her groping feet. For an instant, she balanced on the iron-spiked top of the high wall. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the shadow that was Isabel near the door that led back into the harem. The girl did not look back.
On the other side of the wall was another garden. There were no convenient peach trees here, only a rope with knots tied at intervals along its length, and a loop thrown over one of the iron spikes. Basim already stood on the ground below, patiently holding the rope taut. Julia did not pause to consider and grow nervous. She balanced, crouching with her feet between the spikes while she caught the rope, then, she gripped tight and cast herself out and down. The rope burned the palm of her hands. She half-fell, caught herself, and slipped again, descending by swift and jerky degrees. After an age of time, she felt dew-damp grass beneath the soles of her thin slippers.
Basim took the rope from her tight grasp. Stepping back, he gave it a hard snap which lifted the loop from the spike and brought the rope curling down upon them. Rolling it about his arm, he set off toward the dark bulk of another wing of the palace.
“This way, fair mistress,” he called softly.
Under their feet rose now the smell of crushed herbs. Breathing deep of their aroma, Julia decided that the garden they were in opened from the kitchens, deserted at this hour. They passed below the branches of pear and plum trees and brushed against the milky, odorous leaves of figs. Stepping carefully through a small patch of melons, they came at last to a section which had been allowed to grow wild. Here, weeds and thorn seedlings grew up to a sagging, little-used door.
The panel stood open a few inches, inviting entrance into a storeroom piled high with cracked oil jars, split baskets, and shrunken barrels with the staves falling in. They threaded their careful way through the refuse, halting at another door that gave onto a passageway. Basim peered around it, and finding the way clear, motioned her forward. They followed the passageway into a narrow corridor that branched and meandered for what seemed like miles through the nether regions of the great pile of stone. They passed hundreds of dark, windowless, cave like chambers hardly large enough for a sleeping mat. These were the quarters of the kitchen slaves who provided the vast quantity of food and drink consumed daily in the palace. Without exception, these were dark, occupied by human beings sunk in the deep sleep of exhaustion.
At last, they reached what could only be a rear entrance, a postern gate where every morning the suppliers of victuals brought their wares, the hundreds of chickens and squabs, the dozens of lambs, the tons of wheat and rice and dried and fresh fruits, and the myriad other rich comestibles. It was quiet and deserted now, except for a lone guard, an old man who barely glanced at them before accepting the purse Basim threw him, getting to his feet, and ambling off into the shadows.
They were still not safe. There were the stables for the dey’s horses and the steeds of the officers of the Janissaries, along with the men who stood guard among the beasts against theft. They ghosted through this maze of pens and feeding troughs with the utmost care, knowing that here were vigilant sentries. Beyond these was an area of open palace drains filled with wastes. It was a noisome place and therefore deserted. Julia bore it without complaint.
Suddenly, a dog began to bark behind them in the stable area. Basim reached to catch her hand. Abandoning all pretense of stealth, they began to run. They swung into a dark space that turned out to be a refuse-strewn alley. Their footsteps pounded along its curving length until ahead they could see a faint light at the opening into another street. In that opening sat a litter, with its bearers standing alert on either side and a linkboy with a burning lantern in front of it.
Basim gave an exclamation of satisfaction. Coming to a halt beside the litter, he held the curtain to one side for Julia. The instant she settled inside, the poles were taken up and the bearers began a jolting run. A part of Julia wanted to urge them to go ever faster, while another part cringed at the thought of attracting any kind of attention. They did not know for certain that they had not been seen leaving the vicinity of the palace. It was unlikely, now that they were drawing away, that a common livestock guard would connect the litter with the disturbance of the dog. Why arouse suspicion by acting in a way that could be thought peculiar? She looked out once to remonstrate with Basim, who was trotting along beside the litter. At the sight of him, she decided against it. He would not put himself to the effort of keeping up on his short legs unless he considered it necessary.
Well beyond the palace, the litter slowed. Behind them, the streets were quiet; there was no sign of pursuit. Taking the winding back alleys, they traversed the city, passing shuttered houses with beggars sleeping in the doorways, mongrel dogs sneaking out to lap from the public watering troughs, and now and then, a skulking figure that melted away, no more anxious to be seen than they.
They came at last to the wider thoroughfares of the outlying section. The litter rounded the wall of an imposing dwelling place, which could have been the abode of a rich merchant, and entered at an open gate. It continued to the rear of the complex of buildings. The place was quiet. No lanterns gleamed, not even in the gatehouse, where a guard should have been posted, or in the servants’ quarters. It was, to all appearances, deserted. Here the litter was set down. Even before Julia stepped out, she recognized the familiar smell of horses. They stood saddled and waiting, good beasts, Arabian mixed with Barb, and finely caparisoned. Across the saddle of one lay a cloak, which Basim caught by the hem and drew down, pre
senting it to Julia.
The covering was welcome. Her silken bodice and pantaloons, though suitable enough for the harem, were not designed for the night air, even such a fine summer night as this. Also, she was not unaware of the interest of the bearers of the litter in her scanty attire and unveiled state. While she was donning the cloak, Basim paid off the bearers and linkboy. Their grants gave evidence of the satisfactory size of their payment. The money disappeared into their rags. If their curiosity was not as satisfied, they gave no further sign, taking up the litter and moving off as quickly as they had come.
Seeing Julia staring after them, Basim said, “Fear not, my Lady Jullanar. To aid a Christian slave in escape is a crime for which the punishment is severe. They will not remember they saw you any longer than it takes them to leave your sight.”
Julia nodded, accepting the word of the dwarf without question. She gestured toward the house. “This place, is it abandoned?”
“No, fair mistress.”
“To whom does it belong, then, that they allowed you to keep the horses in wait here?”
“It was built many years ago as a retreat for Mehemet Dey, my Lady Jullanar. The key has been in my keeping for many months, awaiting your hour of need. In perfect truth, the house is now the property of Ali Dey, but he has not felt the need of solitude, and may never do so. Contemplation is not in his nature.”
She must remember to say a prayer for the repose of the soul of Mehemet Dey, Julia told herself, and turned away.
With few exceptions, the women of the east did not ride horseback, traveling when they must behind the curtained seclusion and protection of a palanquin. For this reason, the sidesaddle for ladies was unknown. The horses that waited carried the heavy high-pommeled saddles of Araby. Julia did not hesitate, however. It would not be the first time she had ridden astride. She mounted by the simple expedient of stepping upon Basim’s bent back. When she was settled, the dwarf caught his stirrup, swarming upward like a sailor climbing into rigging. It was obvious from the way in which he sat his horse that, though palace-bred, he was at home in the saddle.
“Where do we ride, O small man of the large heart?” Julia inquired, gathering up the reins.
Basim observed her seat as candidly as she had judged his, and appeared to find no fault. His teeth flashed the first light of the rising moon as he smiled. “First, we leave Algiers, then we ride to freedom!”
It was not a full answer; still, it was enough. As he swung his horse around and set his heels into its sides, Julia did the same. She felt deep inside the rise of exhilaration, of returning life after a long winter of the soul. She would not despair and she would not be afraid. She was going to achieve what she wanted, no matter who tried to stop her. She would not be beaten.
Her thoughts kept time with the pounding of the horses’ hooves. The refrain sang in her blood and drummed in her mind so loudly that it was some time before she grew aware that a part of the sound came from behind them. Looking back, she saw two horsemen. When had they begun to follow them? How long had they been there? She did not know. For now, they made no attempt to come up to them, but held back at a distance of a little less than a hundred yards. This did not ease Julia’s mind, however. Something, perhaps the purposeful way in which they appeared to be maintaining the same pace as Basim and herself, sent a chill of distress down her spine.
“Basim, there are men, riders—”
“I see them, fair mistress.”
“Let us spur forward and leave them.”
“Do not be afraid. If they have been sent after us, they will only give chase; if not, we would tire our horses for nothing. The night is short and the journey long.”
“Must we wait for them to make the first move?” she asked, with heat caused by strained nerves and an aching back chafed already to rawness by the woolen robe.
“If I am correct, there may be no move to be made at all.”
This cryptic statement did nothing to satisfy Julia. Nevertheless, she subsided, forcing herself to accept Basim’s estimation.
They left the last mud hovels of Algiers behind them. The city was lost to view, and still, the horsemen that followed came on. The dust of their progress rose behind them and was blown away on the night wind. Breathing deep, they forced fresh, clean air into their lungs, trying to forget the stench of Algiers and the palace. The wind seemed to be faintly tainted with salt from the sea away somewhere to their right. As the moonlight brightened and the miles passed beneath their horses’ hooves, the ride with their ghostly pursuers took on the aspect of a waking nightmare. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, Julia increased the pace of her mount, and Basim’s mare stayed even, unwilling to be left to the rear.
If Ali Dey wanted her, Julia told herself, he was going to have to exert himself to catch her. She would not be intimidated into spineless surrender, no matter what he might be accustomed to with other women. How she wished she had the knife Rud had given her! She would prepare a small surprise for the dey. Would he set out to chase her down himself? He was a man of action who enjoyed the hunt. Or, would he send his millions? No, she decided, it must be the Illustrious One himself. She could not feature a mere soldier prolonging the chase in this diabolical fashion. The dey would want to exact the last ounce of vengeance for her insult in daring to prefer freedom to his couch. Would he kill her? His honor would decree it, as well as the law. The question was when, after what travail.
How had he discovered her absence? How had he come so quickly upon her trail? Had Isabel betrayed her? Was this the surprise of which she had spoken? How could she think Julia would find it anything, but unpleasant? Surely with her knowledge of the harem, she must know that Ali Dey could not ignore what she had done and return her to her former place. No, she must not think so of Isabel. The alarm had been given near the stables. That had to be the answer.
Now, the sound of hooves grew louder. A quick glance over her shoulder showed that the horsemen had kicked their mounts into a hard gallop. The sand of the road thrown up by their speed shone like gold dust in the glow of the moon. They were gaining.
Julia leaned low over the neck of her horse, speaking into her ear. Pain forgotten, she threw herself into the race. Beside her, Basim rode, a frown on his face as he looked back. He straightened to stare ahead, then looked back again.
Following his forward gaze, Julia saw the sparkle of the night-dark sea where the road wound around to parallel the coast. The ground was higher here than the shoreline, the dirt track of the road running along a low cliff of rocky sand covered with sea grasses. Abruptly, Basim pointed at a break in the escarpment. It was a trough formed by wind and rain into a long ramp to the beach. He turned his horse in that direction. Julia plunged after him, holding her horse in as he floundered in deep, rocky sand, letting him have his head as they reached the hard-packed beach at the water’s edge.
And then, far down the line of the sea’s edge, Julia saw their objective. It was a ship anchored out from shore, silvered by moonlight. A longboat from the vessel lay beached on the sand. From this distance, the ship had the look of a phantom, a dream-conjured vision with the lines of a Baltimore clipper, the duplicate of a vessel long sunk beneath the waves of a far-flung ocean. She had the look of the Sea Jade, a ship lost forever. The rigging was the same, the shape of the bow and figurehead, even the paint. It could not be, and yet, it was. Rud’s ship, given to him by Ali Dey. He had sailed away in her, but not to stay. He had returned. For her.
Now, she and Basim drummed their horses with their heels, flying like the sea wind toward the safe haven before them. The damp sand was thrown in clods as high as their heads, and they raced the lapping waves along the shore, now missing them, now kicking the water into spray. Behind them streamed their pursuers, demons of persistence, riding hard now that they saw their quarry about to slip through their fingers. Slowly, the gap began to close.
Julia drew ahead of Basim. As she looked back at him, she could have sworn he was drawing in. Was his h
orse failing? Had his oriental mind accepted that it was his fate to be run down by the dey of Algiers? Her mouth tightened. She would not give up so easily.
The leader of the two horsemen was outdistancing the other, his white Arabian stallion like molten silver in the glow of the full, sailing moon. With cloak flying, he sped past Basim, closing in upon Julia’s flying mount. His horse was superior. There could be no doubt of the issue. She had been right. Until now, he had been playing a game of nerves with her. He could have overtaken her at any time.
She turned her gaze forward, fastening her amber eyes upon the ship as on a talisman, willing Rud to sense her plight, wondering in a flash of amazement that there were no men to guard the longboat, men who might come to her defense.
The thunder of hooves was in her ears, a sound that blended with the beat of her heart. She felt the rush of wind as the silver-white Arabian drew in beside her gelding. As if drawn by a force she could not resist, she turned her head.
Rud. Rud racing beside her, his blue eyes glittering with reckless joy, his lips drawn back in a ferocious pleasure. Her heart leaped, and as he checked his mount to keep pace with hers, she sent him a dazzling smile. Together, they bore down upon the longboat, their cloaks lifting like wings behind them.
Love and Adventure Collection - Part 1 (Love and Adventure Boxed Sets) Page 45