The Love Slave Part 15

Zaynab stood motionless, head bowed, as she had been taught. Her presentation garments were chosen to entice. She wore a skirt fashioned from strands of tiny seed pearls attached to a wide gold and bejeweled band that rested just below her hipbones, leaving her navel open to view. Her tight short-sleeved blouse was made of cloth-of-gold. It had a round neck with a charming keyhole opening bordered with pearls, cut to just below her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She was barefoot, but a diaphanous veil of the softest blush silk covered her head, and another veil obscured her features.

Karim al Malina reached out and drew the veil from her head while Oma swiftly loosened her mistress's hair, allowing it to fall free, spreading it out fanlike that it might display to its best advantage.

Abd-al Rahman could hear his heart beating in his ears. Uncrossing his legs, he rose from his throne and moved down the two steps of the dais to where the girl stood. Unable to help himself, he took a strand of her pale gold hair between his fingers and felt the silky softness of it. Reaching out, he unfastened one side of her veil, tipped her chin up that he might see her face. Her pale lashes lay thick upon her pale cheek. "Raise your eyes to me, Zaynab," he said softly.

Obeying him, she looked into his face for the first time. He was not even a head taller than she, and was of stocky build. The deep blue eyes staring into her own were contemplative. She was almost relieved, but her beautiful face showed no emotion whatsoever.

The caliph was staggered by what he saw. She was probably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her features were perfect: oval-shaped eyes; a straight nose neither too long, nor too short; high forehead and cheekbones. A lush mouth seemingly made for kisses. A square little chin that suggested a touch of stubbornness. Good! He disliked bland women. He smiled, pleased, wondering what her smile was like. Right now, he suspected, she was terrified, although she was too well mannered to show it Gently, he refastened the veil, covering her face, and she lowered her eyes again. Slowly the caliph remounted his throne.

"Donal Righ has outdone himself, Karim al Malina," Abd-al Rahman said "Remain the night here at Madinat al-Zahra as my guest. My chamberlain will see to your comfort. In the morning I will receive you in private and tell you whether the Love Slave, Zaynab, pleases me. You will then convey a personal message to my friend, Donal Righ."

Karim al Malina bowed low to the caliph, and, dismissed, backed from the Hall of the Caliphate. For a single, swift moment his eyes met Zaynab's, and his heart cracked painfully. He would never see her again. Allah watch over you, my beloved, he called silently to her, but she was already being escorted from the hall.

Zaynab did not speak as she and Oma were led from the Hall of the Caliphate. There was nothing more to say. Her heart was broken, and she would never love again. It was far better that way. She might be young, but she had no illusions left any longer. Karim was gone from her life. Her very survival and that of Oma depended upon the goodwill of a blue-eyed man called Abd-al Rahman. He was not unattractive, she decided, but she had certainly never imagined that he would look quite like he did.

The caliph was not a tall man. Though she was considered tall for a woman, he was barely taller than she was. His garments, of course, had been magnificent. What lay beneath them she could not tell, except that he was a man with a solid build. His eyebrows had been reddish. Was his hair that shade too? She would eventually know, for when he had looked upon her, his frank gaze had told her that he desired her.

They were brought to the women's quarters of the palace, which was practically an entire building of itself.

"This slave woman and her servant were brought to the caliph as a gift this morning," her escort said to the eunuch at the door. Then the guardsman departed, his duty done.

"Come in, come in," the eunuch beckoned them. "I will get the Mistress of the Women. She will a.s.sign you and your serving wench bed s.p.a.ce. Wait here," he told them, and bustled off.

Zaynab and Oma looked about them. The pillared hall with its several sparkling fountains was filled with women of all sizes, shapes, and colors. The cacophony of their voices made it seem like they had been set down into a huge cage of chattering birds.

"What? Another girl?" the Mistress of the Women grumbled as she arrived to look Zaynab over with a critical eye. "There are over four thousand females in this place now as it is. How am I to cram another one in, I ask you? Well, you're pretty enough, but the caliph is not a man in his youth any longer. I suspect you'll grow old and fat like so many of the others. Let me think where I can put you."

"I require my own apartment," Zaynab said quietly.

The Mistress of the Women, whose name was Walladah, gaped at the young woman, astounded, then she began to laugh. "Your own apartment? Hah! Hah! Hah! Are you some princess, then, who is to be given special attention? You'll be fortunate if I can find you bed s.p.a.ce at all. An apartment? Hah! Hah! Hah!"

"Lady," Zaynab said quietly, but firmly, "I am not some Galacian or Basque girl whose hair has been dyed. I am not a fearful virgin hoping to gain my master's favor. I am Zaynab, the Love Slave, trained by the great Pa.s.sion Master, Karim ibn Habib al Malina. I am to be housed according to my station. If you doubt my word, I suggest that you send to the caliph for his wishes in the matter. I will abide by them and offer no further complaint."

Walladah struggled to make a decision. The well-being of the women of the harem was her duty. She was a distant cousin of the caliph, a woman widowed young, for whom no one else had asked. Only her family ties had gained her so powerful a position in Abd-al Rahman's household. It had also gained her riches and respect. She was not anxious to lose all she had attained.

"You must decide, lady," Zaynab pressed her gently. "The slaves will soon be here with my possessions. I have several trunks, and jewel cases that must be given a safe haven. I cannot have common concubines and their servants riffling through my garments. It is absolutely unthinkable. Remember who we serve, lady. I have been sent here for but one purpose. To please my lord, the caliph. I cannot do that if I have no place to entertain him, or if my personal possessions are stolen away by light-fingered females of undetermined heritage."

Walladah looked at Zaynab closely. The young woman before her was incredibly beautiful and very self-a.s.sured, yet she was polite. A trifle haughty perhaps, but polite. "Well," the Mistress of the Women allowed, "perhaps I could find a small apartment for you, but if you do not find favor with the caliph quickly, you shall find yourself sharing a sleeping mat with your servant."

Zaynab laughed as if such a thing were impossible, and then she replied to the Mistress of the Women, "My apartment must have a little garden of its own. I need my privacy when I take the air."

Walladah swallowed her outrage. The cheek of the wench! But then, she had to admit that this was no ordinary slave. Still, her position necessitated that she maintain a certain control. "I have just the apartment for you, my lady Zaynab," she told her. "If you and your servant will follow me, please." She hurried off with the two young women behind her. The apartment she would put this girl in was at the absolute far end of the harem. It had a tiny sc.r.a.p of a garden, but the garden wall was shared with the caliph's zoo. The girl would have what she had requested, but it would hardly be choice. Later, if she gained real favor with the caliph, there would be time to find a better accommodation. If.

Oma gasped with outrage as Walladah opened the double doors to the apartment. How dare this woman insult her mistress so? She was about to voice her opinion of this affront to Zaynab when her mistress placed a warning hand on her arm and spoke for herself.

"It is small, Lady Walladah, but I believe it can be made quite comfortable. I shall remember your kindness."

The Mistress of the Women felt a momentary sense of discomfort at Zaynab's words. "I will send a cleaning woman at once, lady."

"Excellent" Zaynab purred. "I shall want to see the eunuchs available for my service as soon as possible. I shall also need to bathe soon. The caliph will desire my presence tonight."

Walladah hurried off, amazed that so young a girl could have such presence and could have nonplused her so. She would do what she had to do to make this Zaynab comfortable. Then she would report to the lady Zahra, the caliph's favorite wife. That lady would certainly want to know all she could regarding this new creature.

"If she had sent us back to Alcazaba Malina," Oma huffed, "we could be no farther away from the center of things here. Two rooms, and neither of them big enough to swing a cat in, I might add."

Zaynab laughed, closing the doors behind them. "It is better than being a.s.signed a bed s.p.a.ce in the harem sleeping quarters amid a group of other women who would undoubtedly steal everything we have," she said. "These quarters may be small, but they give us status and privacy. We will turn them into an exquisite jewel box to house a perfect jewel," she finished with a chuckle.

Oma looked about her. "Well," she said, "I suppose once the dust is removed and we put our things about, it will be habitable. Let's see what we have for a garden."

They went outside to find a small square garden with a round marble pond in its center. A bronze lily rose from the middle, to spray a fine mist of water into the air. There were no plantings of any kind, although the beds had been dug for them.

"Roses, lilies, and nicotiana," Zaynab said. "And sweet herbs as well. I think the pond should have real water lilies too, don't you, Oma? And we'll perfume the water to make the effect even lusher."

The cleaning woman came, and shortly the two rooms were spotless.

Walladah returned, approved their efforts, and then said to Zaynab, "What furniture will you require, my lady?"

"Oma knows, and will go with you to select it," Zaynab said sweetly. "Where are the eunuchs for me to choose among?"

"They await outside, lady. Shall I have them come in?" Walladah responded, a little smile touching the corners of her mouth. She had already spoken to Lady Zahra. They had picked the eunuchs themselves. Only one was really suitable. The rest were insignificant. This Zaynab, with her youthful pride, would be certain to choose the one they wanted her to pick. Walladah opened the doors and commanded the six eunuchs to come in. "Here are the candidates I have chosen for you, lady," she said. "Which of them will you have?"

Zaynab looked at the six before her. Two were elderly. One was of middle years and looked half-witted. One was very young. Another was enormous in girth and looked half asleep. The sixth was a dignified dark-skinned man. Five were so eminently unsuitable that Zaynab knew it was this eunuch she was expected to take into her service. He would undoubtedly be a spy for Walladah. She contemplated the six. Among them was a fair-skinned boy with dark hair who looked nervous and wretchedly unhappy all at the same time. She pointed an imperious finger at him.

"I want him," she said in a tone that brooked no interference.

"Lady," Walladah protested, "he is too young for such responsibility! Choose someone else."

"Are you saying that you brought me someone unsuitable?" Zaynab demanded. "I choose this young eunuch because he will bend to my ways easier than any of the others." She turned to the boy. "What is your name?"

"Naja, my lady," the boy told her.

"He has no influence among the other eunuchs," Walladah protested. "He will be of absolutely no use to you, Lady Zaynab."

"It is not necessary that he have influence," Zaynab said blandly. "When I gain favor with our lord the caliph, then Naja will gain influence through me, Lady Walladah. Now, if you would go with Oma and allow her to choose my furnishings ..."

Defeated, the Mistress of the Women retired, taking the five rejected eunuchs with her. With a grin and a wink at her mistress, Oma followed along.

When they were alone, Zaynab told Naja, "You may trust me when I tell you that I shall become the caliph's favorite. I am no mere concubine, but a Love Slave. Do you know the difference?"

"Yes, my lady," the boy said.

"Walladah wanted me to choose the tall dark man, who is undoubtedly her spy. I chose you instead because I expect total loyalty from you, Naja. If I should ever discover that you have betrayed me, I will see you die a most horrible death, and no one will be able to protect you from my wrath. Do you believe me?"

"Yes, lady," the boy replied. Then he said, "Nasr, the one they wanted you to choose, spies for the lady Zahra, not Walladah, although that one is also in her debt."

Zaynab nodded. So the caliph's favorite wife was already aware of her arrival. She would be a formidable opponent, but perhaps she need not be. They might never be friends, but they did not have to be enemies. "The lady Zahra wastes her time spying on me," Zaynab told Naja "I do not wish to replace her in the caliph's affections. Indeed, I could not possibly do so. Replace a woman for whom a city has been built and named?" Zaynab laughed. "I only wish to please the caliph. That is what I have been trained to do: to give pleasure." Although she hoped to build a certain loyalty in Naja, she knew that he, like all the others, could be bribed by a more powerful personage. Whatever he would repeat must soothe rather than worry the lady Zahra.

Oma returned, followed by several slaves carrying the furniture she had chosen for her mistress. "That old Walladah," she told Zaynab, "would have had me take the most dreadful furnishings. Fortunately, I prevailed, my lady." Hearing a noise behind her, she whirled about, saying, "Be careful with that divan! Put it there, now." She turned back to her mistress. "I thought the caliph should have something comfortable to sit on when we entertain him."

Oma had found some lovely pieces in the harem storehouse. The divan was covered in peac.o.c.k-blue silk. Its wooden legs were painted with gold. She had obtained several small tables, both round and square. One was of polished ebony inlaid with mother-of-pearl, another an engraved bra.s.s circle set upon ivory legs, a third made of blue and white tiles. Several slaves were laden down with silk pillows in shades of emerald, sapphire, and ruby. There was a wonderful standing greenish bronze lamp, several hanging lamps with amber gla.s.s inserts, and a number of polished bra.s.s lamps for the tables. There was a single chair of carved wood with a leather seat, and several charcoal braziers to provide heat on damp or chilly days. The bedchamber needed no furnishings. A dais for Zaynab's bedding was already in place, and her clothes chests would take up the rest of the room. There was a small alcove off the bedchamber, where Oma would spread her bed mat. Naja would sleep outside of his lady's door.

Finally they were alone, and Oma began to unpack her lady's chests. "What will you wear?" she asked her.

"Something simple," Zaynab answered. "But first I must bathe. Naja, are the baths available at any time?"

"Yes, lady, but the ladies of the harem usually bathe in the morning. It is their gossiping time."

"I bathe twice daily," Zaynab informed him. "In the morning and in the late afternoon. I require the services of the ma.s.seuse in the afternoon each day. My scent is gardenia. I use no other. See the bath attendants are so informed." She loosened the hip band of her skirt, and it fell to the floor with a rattle. Stepping away from the pearl-encrusted garment, she undid her blouse and pulled it off. "Oma, a robe, please." She handed the blouse to Naja as Oma helped her mistress into a white silk garment "Take me to the baths, Naja," Zaynab commanded him.

The young eunuch pa.s.sed the blouse to Oma and then led his new mistress from her apartments. As they hurried through the harem, Zaynab was the curious object of all eyes. She said nothing, but stared straight ahead, head held high. Walladah, she suspected, was already spreading tales. When they reached their destination, Naja introduced Zaynab to the Mistress of the Baths, who was called Obana.

"Well," Obana said bluntly, "remove your garment, and let's see what we have to work with." Obana was a person of great importance in the harem hierarchy, and her only loyalties were to the caliph. She could not be bribed, nor did she fear any of the women, including Zahra. A maiden's good grooming and radiant beauty reflected well upon Obana, particularly if the caliph was pleased, and if he was, Obana was usually rewarded by her generous master. Gaining her favor was paramount to success with Abd-al Rahman.

Naja whisked the silk robe from Zaynab, and she stood quietly under Obana's critical eye.

"Let me see your hands, lady." Carefully Obana examined the girl's hands, turning them over, running her strong fingers along Zaynab's delicate digits. "Your feet, one at a time." Zaynab patiently obeyed. "Open your mouth." She peered in at the girl's strong white teeth and sniffed hard. "Good teeth, no rot, sweet breath," was her comment. Swiftly she ran her hands over Zaynab's body. There was nothing lewd or licentious in the gesture. Zaynab might have been a fine mare being examined by a prospective owner. "Your skin is wonderfully soft and firm. You are not one of the typical harem beauties who will grow fat with age." She felt a lock of her subject's hair. "It's like thistledown, but then you know that. Do you use lemon on your hair to encourage its lights?"

"Yes, my lady Obana. I was so taught," Zaynab said in a soft voice. Her look was direct, her expression pleasant without being familiar.

"Excellent!" Obana approved. "Well, lady, I have never seen a more beautiful girl come into this harem. You are a Love Slave, the gossip says. Is it so?"

"Yes, my lady Obana. The gossip in this instance is correct," Zaynab answered, unable to keep the laughter from her voice.

Obana chuckled herself. "They are already saying much about you. Considering you entered Madinat al-Zahra but a short time ago, I find it amazing all that is said about you."

"I am but today's diversion, my lady Obana. Tomorrow the women of the harem will have something else to amuse them," Zaynab said with a small smile.

"Well, to business," Obana said briskly, nodding. "When did you last bathe, my lady?"

"This morning," Zaynab replied. "It is my custom to bathe twice daily. Naja knows my preferences and will tell your a.s.sistants."

"Excellent!" Obana replied, but then she personally oversaw the Love Slave's ablutions. This one would definitely find favor with the caliph. For how long, she could not predict, but for now it was a certainty. She did not envy the lady Zahra and the lady Tarub, the master's two favorite wives. They truly loved their husband, and to be supplanted, even for a brief time, by so very young and fair a creature as this Zaynab, must be galling. Yet neither of those ladies ever showed their displeasure when their lord and master strayed into greener pastures. They were too well mannered. They did not have to fear being replaced in their husband's esteem, for their positions were secure by virtue of their sons and their long a.s.sociation with Abd-al Rahman.

Bathed, and ma.s.saged, her fingernails and toenails neatly pared, Zaynab was reclothed in her silk robe. Thanking the lady Obana, she turned to go, but suddenly Naja gasped softly, and bowing low, stepped aside, allowing the lady Zahra to enter the chamber. Zaynab fell to her knees, her head bowed.

A tiny smile of amus.e.m.e.nt touched Lady Zahra's lips. "It is not necessary for you to kneel to me, Lady Zaynab. Kneel only to our lord and master, Abd-al Rahman al Nasir I'il Din Allah, the great and victorious Caliph of al-Andalus."

Zaynab rose immediately. "I but do honor the lady Zahra, she who holds the caliph's heart, mother of his heir, for whom this city was named. I am neither meek nor humble, madame, but your status demands that I behave in a mannerly fashion, lest I shame he who trained me and he who sent me to the caliph in grat.i.tude for his many kindnesses."

Zahra laughed a tinkling laugh. "You are clever," she said. "That is good. You will amuse my husband. He needs a new diversion, for he grows easily bored of late. Please him as long as you can, Zaynab." Then the lady Zahra turned about and departed the same way she came.

Well, well, the Mistress of the Baths thought to herself. The lady Zahra is afraid of this one. She is concerned enough to beard the girl on her first day in the harem. She has never been afraid of any of the others. Why this one? It is interesting. Yes, I shall watch this drama unfold about me with pleasure.

Zaynab walked the width and the length of the harem back to her quarters. The other women watched her openly now; some with simple interest, some with envy, some bitterly, for her beauty was not to be denied and would draw the caliph's attention away from them.

When she was safely within her little apartment, Zaynab collapsed upon the divan. "I have met the lady Zahra," she announced to Oma. "She is already jealous of me, and so are the others. I could feel their hatred reaching out to score me as I returned from the baths."

Oma had brewed mint tea on one of the little braziers. She pressed a small porcelain cup into her mistress's hands. "Drink. You need your strength, my dear lady. It has been a hard day, and it is not over yet. Naja, we have not eaten since dawn. My lady needs food."

"I will fetch it for you," he said eagerly.

"Naja." Zaynab spoke.

"Yes, lady?"

"I have told you that I will destroy you if you ever betray me, but if you are loyal to me, your rewards will be great and many," she told him. "You were not, I suspect, born a slave, any more than I was. You are fortunate to have survived your surgery."

He nodded. "I am a Rumi from the Adriatic coast," he told her. "I was taken five years ago when I was twelve. My two brothers died of the operation. The slaves said I was the fortunate one to have escaped the jaws of death. My name means deliverance. I came into this household two years ago. I know why you chose me from among the others, but in doing so, lady, you have raised me in rank. One has but to look at you to know that the caliph will love you. Your success is mine as well. I will serve you with loyalty."

"Any fool can attract a man's attention," Zaynab said. "It is the clever woman who keeps it, Naja. Do you understand me?"

He smiled for the first time in her presence. "I will not fail you, lady," he promised her and hurried off to find them food.

"Can we trust him, I wonder?" Oma said, her amber eyes contemplative. "He's no Mustafa, is he?"

"He will serve me loyally as long as my interests dinna conflict with those of Lady Zahra," Zaynab said, switching to their native tongue. "That great lady is the real power here in the harem, nae the caliph, Oma. We must nae allow ourselves to forget it. Lady Zahra hae been wi' the caliph for many years, and she hae his love, and his trust. If I am fortunate, I will bind him to me for a wee time, and perhaps even bear him a bairn, but the lady Zahra will always be queen in this place. Naja will serve me well, but if called to choose between us, he will side wi' the lady Zahra. Guard yer tongue around him if ye can."

"Do ye think the caliph will visit ye tonight, my lady?" Oma wondered aloud. "He be a braw gentleman, I'm thinking."

"He will come," Zaynab said with certainty. "I could see the interest in his eyes when he unveiled me earlier. Then, in the baths when I met the lady Zahra, she told me that the caliph is bored and needs a new diversion. She said it to hurt me, of course. To rea.s.sure herself that she will always be first in his heart, and I but a pa.s.sing fancy."

" 'Twas cruel, lady," Oma sympathized.

" 'Tis nae but the truth, my wee Oma. 'Tis unlikely this mighty man will fall in love wi' me forever, but if I can gain his favor long enough to hae a bairn of my own, then we shall always be safe here, and nae lonely ever again. To gain those ends I will do what I must."

Naja returned, bearing a tray. Upon it was a bowl of rice with pieces of capon breast in it. A second bowl held creamy yogurt with freshly peeled green grapes. There was a piece of warm flat bread and a dish of fresh fruit. Carefully he placed his burden upon the bra.s.s table where Zaynab and Oma had seated themselves. Taking a silver spoon from his robes, he dipped it first into the rice and chicken dish, tasting it, and then into the yogurt, which he also tasted. Then, nodding with satisfaction, he gave them each a spoon with which to eat from the communal bowls.

"I will taste everything for you, my lady Zaynab," Naja said. "Poison is a favorite weapon here in the harem. The bread I took myself as it came from the ovens, and the fruit I personally chose, but the kitchen slaves dished up the bowls. We cannot be too trusting, nor can we be too careful. Nonetheless, should someone or something slip beneath our guard, Hasdai ibn Shaprut, the caliph's favorite physician, has rediscovered a universal cure for all poisons. It is unlikely you would die, but you could be wretchedly uncomfortable and your innards scarred."

Zaynab swallowed hard. This was not something Karim had dwelled upon during her education. Karim, She had vowed never to say his name again, or even think of him, yet the sun had not even set and her thoughts were turning to him. How wonderful that last month at Escape had been. It was just the two of them. Each day food had appeared as if by magic. The wine decanter had been kept filled. They had talked, and made love, and walked in the hills together. She had wanted it to go on forever. Knowing it could not, she wished for death instead, but that did not come either. The choice, of course, had been hers; but Zaynab knew she was not a silly, weak fool like the Love Slave Leila had been. There was life, and there was death. Living was the harder, stronger choice, and she wanted to live even if she could not have Karim. A strong streak of common sense ran in her veins. No man, not even Karim, was worth her life. She would always love him, but her loyalty would be to this caliph who was to be her master.

Still, Zaynab sighed deeply, remembering. In the end she and Karim had returned to the villa, and the same litter that had brought her along the coast road from Alcazaba Malina returned her to I'timad. They had sailed across the Gulf of Cadiz into the mouth of the Guadalquivir, and up the river to Cordoba. He had not touched her since they had left Escape. Nor would he ever again, Zaynab thought sadly. Then she shook herself impatiently. It was over. She had another new life, and with luck, one day she might find happiness again.

Reaching out, she took a fruit from the bowl and bit into it. The sweet juice trickled down her chin. "What is it?" she asked Naja. "I like it."

"It is a plum, lady. Do you not have plums in your land?"

"Nay, there are no plums in Alba. We have apples, and some pears, but no other fruits," she explained.

The meal finished and cleared away, Naja brought them a bowl of scented water with which to wash their hands.

Zaynab stood up. "I must rest now," she told them, and disappeared into her bedchamber.

"Have you chosen her garments for tonight, in case the caliph should come to her?" Naja asked Oma.

The girl nodded. "She is so beautiful, she needs little adornment, I think. Just a silk caftan, her hair scented and loose about her. I have chosen a caftan the color of her eyes."

"Perfect," Naja agreed.