No. She turned her back on the thought and slammed the door- She set herself to be welcome and welcomed, bathed, fed, laid to rest in a high cool room full of the song of wind and falling water.

Aidan did not want to be quiet. He did not want to eat. He did not want to rest. His mamluks were taken away from him, led away to some inner fastness of servants and of lesser guests.

His lover was locked in the harem. He had walked open-eyed into a city of a.s.sa.s.sins, and he knew that he had been mad to dare it.

He lay on the mat in the room which he had been given, not because he wanted to lie there, but because the patchwork cat, coiled on his middle, was content. Its purring rumbled through him; its peace stilled the worst of his compulsion to leap up and bolt.

And why, except for the cat, did he not do just that? Why did he not fly, if he was minded to? He could. It was there in him, the power. 187.

The cat b.u.t.ted his hand. He rubbed its ears, aware of its bliss, as a murmur on the edges of his rebellion.He had done nothing that a mortal man could not do, ex- cept blur the truth of his face, and walk in a mind or two, and sustain the wards against the a.s.sa.s.sin-ill as that had served Thibaut-since he left Rhiyana. In all else, he had wielded no power. He had made himself human It had seemed prudent enough when he began. This was a mortal world, and mortal fear could kill. He had seen the threat of it in Jerusalem, in the whispers that he was the a.s.sas- sin, that he was worse, that he was the devil's own.

But he was not mortal. He was not human. Here in Islam, which not only accepted the possibility of his kind but granted it the hope of salvation, he was perhaps not safe from fear, but he was less likely to be burned at the stake for it- And his power chafed in its confinement.

He uncurled a tendril of it, delicately. Nothing so common to his kind as wards or mindsight; those had had use enough.

But the deeper power, the fire that was his name and his es- sence, woke with Joy. A flicker, only, for a beginning. A wash of flame over his body.

The cat regarded him wide-eyed. He was clothed in fire. He raised his hand, each finger like a candle, crowned with a flame.

He laughed for the freedom of it.

The edge of his awareness rippled. I^resence, and human. He damped the fire. The cat sneezed. He sat up to face the man with the ridiculous turban and the blade-keen wits.

If Karim had seen or sensed the wildfire, he had chosen to reckon it a delusion. He bowed with grace astonishing in a man of his girth, in the exact degree due the second son of a king. Aidan acknowledged it with a raise of the brow and an inclination ofrhc head. It was more than he would have given a merchant at home.

But, having acceded to the proprieties, this merchant re- called that he was Aidan's equal in the kingdom of trade, sec- ond heir after his sister. And that was strangest of all, that a woman could inherit, and rule, in her own right, when there was a man of years and strength to do it for her.

Karim established himself in comfort where the breeze was -^ coolest, near the door that looked on the garden. His robe was ^of sky-blue silk. His slippers were scarlet, embroidered with ^crystal and gold; their toes turned up with elegant cxtrava- lance.

188 Aidan, barefoot in cotton drawers, sighed for his dignity and kept to his mat. The cat drowsed in his lap.

Karim spared it a glance. "You have a friend in the house, I see," he said.

"But not. G.o.d willing, the only one."The merchant smiled in his curled beard. "You are welcome here,11 he said, "as the kinsman of our kinswoman, and as a lord ofRhiyana. That is pearls, no? And a little tin. And a beautiful fine woolen cloth that sells for a princely price in the proper places."

"And a very little mecalwork, though maybe that is not well thought of here, where the smiths are the best in the world."

Karim was not in the least discomfited. "And, as you say, a craft in gold and silver and somewhat in iron, and a rare art in the cutting and setting of gems. The King of Jerusalem's emer- ald is known even here."

"Is it?" Aidan smiled. "And so it might be. The stone came from your caravans, though it was cut and carved in Caer Gwent."

"Such is the kingdom of commerce," said Karim.

"I begin to see the extent of it," Aidan said. "That you should know our little country . . . have you kin who trade there?"

"A distant cousin, and an ally or two. They speak of a coun- try well ruled, prosperous and at peace: a haven for the gentler arcs."

"But not fair prey for any barbarian with an axe and the will to use it."

"Certainly not," said Karim. "Even, I trust, without the mar- shal of its armies."

"My royal brother is at least the soldier I am, and twice the general."

"Then he must be remarkable indeed."

"His failing," Aidan said, "is that he let the monks corrupt him. He lets everyone else claim the praise, and takes the blame on himself. There is such a thing as an excess of Christian charity."

Karim could not in courtesy answer that.

Aidan nudged the cat from his lap and drew up his knees, clasping them. The cat contemplated sinking claws into his ankle, but reconsidered. It turned haughtily and stalked out.

"I am not," he said to the final fillip of its tail, "the Christian that my brother is. Nor have I his patience- Tell the lady of this 189.

house that I shall do my utmost to wait upon her pleasure, but my temper is uncertain at its best. Which, now, it most cer- tainly is not."

Karim regarded him in grave astonishment. "Sir! Have wefailed of our hospitality?"

"I have been at the mercy of the caravan since it left Jerusa- lem. Now the caravan is ended. The one whom the Lady Mar- garet charged me to guard is locked away from me in the harem. I have nothing to do but wait, and look for death that comes out of the air. As it will. Master Karim. As it most a.s.suredly will."

Karim looked long at him, with no fear that he could dis- cern. After an endless moment the merchant rose. "Rest," he said, "if you can. I shall see what I may do."

It was better than nothing, Aidan supposed. He had tram- pled on every rule of eastern courtesy; but he was, truly, out of patience. He did not intend to cool his heels in this city of a.s.sa.s.sins, until Joanna died for Muslim propriety.

If they did not let him in to guard her, he would find his own way there. Soon. Tonight. The air was limpidly clear, the air ofAleppo on the threshold of autumn, but beneath it was a tension like the gathering of thunder. It was going to break.

And when it broke, it would break tn blood.

He put on the garment that had been laid out for him, a light silken robe, and went out to the gallery. The garden lay below, green and empty. The rooms beside his own were like- wise untenanred, their inhabitants gone now about the busi- ness of the House of Ibrahim.

He swung over the rail, dropped lightly down. Beyond the wall he heard children's voices, and a woman's raised in remon- strance. He walked along it, hand resting lightly on it, as if to promise that he would conquer it.

In the comer of the wall, an almond tree shaded a s.p.a.ce like a bower. He bent beneath the branches, and started, recoiling.

Morgiana tossed him an almond. He caught it, by instinct.

as he dropped down under the arching green. She cracked a pale-brown sh.e.l.l and freed the meat, but did not eat it. Her expression was almost frightening in its stillness.

She wore woman's dress, drab and voluminous black, with a veil over her hair. She would have been beautiful in sackcloth, 190 which this very nearly was; its perfect propriety was more allur- ing than the man's garb in which he had seen her before.

The almond broke in the clenching of his fist. A jagged edge sank deep, drawing blood. He stared at it in surprise.

She took his hand in warm steady fingers and drew out the shard. The blood welled, dark and thick. She set her lips to it.

He could not move. She was only cleansing the wound by what means she could. Only that. She raised her head; she was as calm as ever. "You should take care," she said. "You havemore strength than a man."

Temper burned away his astonishment. "Am I so much a child beside you?"

"Allah knows, you are not." She was still holding his hand.

"I've been waiting for you."

He glanced about. "Here? Do you live here?"

She shook her head. "I saw you riding in. You were beautiful in your robe of honor. Almost civilized."

"Almost?"

She laughed and kissed his palm, swiftly, as if there were nothing else one ought to do with a man's hand in one's own.

"I should not like you to lose your wildness. It makes you fascinating."

"You ..." he said. "You could quickly drive me mad."

He was half jesting. But even the half that was in earnest had not looked to drive her back against the tree-bole, green eyes wide, white face stricken.

His hand, that had known no pain of its wound, began to throb. He flexed it, staring at her. She looked ready, impossi- bly, to weep.

He gathered her to him- "Hush," he said, though she had made no sound. "Hush. I meant no hurt."

Her head shook, hard, against his shoulder. She was smaller than Joanna, tighter, slender-boned as a bird, but wonderfully, uncannily strong. Her fists knotted in his robe. Her voice came m.u.f.fled but distinct- "I have no art; no skill. I know nothing of gentle things. I can only say what is in me to say. And that- and that-is all amiss."

He drew a breath, two. "Arc you telling me ... that you . . ."

She thrust herself back. "Oh, you beautiful, innocent fool! I love you. I have loved you since I saw you in Jerusalem. I have followed you, watched you, waited for you, wanted you. If I shall drive you mad, what is it that you have done to me?" 191.

He opened his mouth, closed it again. He could think of nothing to do, except to touch her. She was burning cold. "I don'r," he said, "I don't yet-" He swallowed. "Yet. But when I see you, touch you . . ." He had her hands in his. He held them to his heart. He could not help the sudden smile. "If you would seduce a man, my lady, you had best begin by letting him see you as often as you see him."

She stiffened, offended; but listening with fierce intensity.He raised her hands and kissed them- "When I first saw you, I thought that I had dreamed you. You were all that I had ever yearned for in a woman."

"And now?"

He met her eyes. "And now, you make my heart sing."

Her arms locked about his neck. "Will you love me? Will you love me now?"

He checked, startled. She was shaking, and not with pa.s.sion.

As if she were going to die before the sun set, and once again, just once, she craved the body's pleasure. "Lady, why in the world-"

She spun away from him. "No- Of course not." Her voice was bitter. "You are Christian. I forget. You make a virtue of denial."

Aidan laughed with his own fair share of bitterness. "That may be, but I was not born a Christian. No, lady. It's only ... are you sure you want it? I hardly know you."

"That is why," she said. "That is why I want you now."

He reached for her, but she had gone too far, almost out of the tree's shade. "Lady," he said, "have mercy. I've seen you thrice before this; I know no more of you than your name. If you have a husband, children, kin-"

Her laughter was iike a cry of pain. "None! I have none.

There is only I. Only-only-"

He leaped. He was surprised that she was there, that she had not vanished. But no more, it seemed, than she. She had to tilt her head back to sec his face; to reach high, to smooth the hair back from his brow. Her hand trembled. "I love vou," she said.

She was gone.

He dropped down, boneless. "G.o.d," he said. As she had once. "G.o.d, G.o.d, G.o.d."

Two wives, the astrologer had said. Had he meant this im- possible tangle? Fretting into madness over one; driven truly mad by the other. And if one was jealous - - .

192 That would be Joanna. Muslim women knew how to share their men.

He tossed his aching head. What was he thinking? Joanna had no cause for jealousy. This was a madwoman, a demon- creature gone wild with age and loneliness. That he found her beautiful was proof only that he had eyes. The rest was pity and fascination and a little-more than a little-desire. Their bod- ies fit well together. Almost too well. The memory other was strong on his skin, her absence an ache that mounted to pain.He dragged himself to his feet. He had come to the garden for healing; it had dealt him a wound worse stiii.

G.o.d had not done with mocking him. He could rest now.

He could fall without effort into a sleep like death. Therefore he was not allowed it. A servant was waiting in his chamber with fresh clothing, a cup of sherbet, a cloying obsequiousness.

Now that he had rested, he was informed, he would dine, then the masters of the house would rejoice in his company.

He contemplated a feast for a prince and a long evening's discourse on nothing in particular, and came deathly close to defying it all. But training held, and bone-weariness. He bowed to the inevitable-

19.

Joanna was well guarded. Too well by half. She and Dura shared a chamber with two of the cousins, light sleepers both, and one heavy with pregnancy and given to rising every hour at least to go to the privy. Samin the eunuch, who was well-nigh as vast as the Dome of the Rock and armed with a sword, slept across the door. An a.s.sa.s.sin would have been hard put to enter the room, which had only one latticed window; and if he had found a way to walk through walls or the mountain of Samin, he would have had to unravel Joanna from the knot of her maid and her cousins.

A lover, even a lover who was Aidan, could not begin to approach her.

It was not as if she had been taken unawares. The House knew the danger she was in, for its sake; and the harem was crowded. The unmarried women, the women with child, the 193.

women whose husbands were elsewhere on the business of the House, had perforce to sleep in twos and threes.

She had not spent a night without Aidan since he first came to her tent. In that warm and airless room, filled to bursting with humanity, still she was cold. Alia's back against her side, Nahar's exuberant flesh crowding her, Samin's thunderous snores, all made her ache for one long lean body, and love made in silence for fear of discovery, and the scent of him that was like an oak copse in summer.

She tried, once, to slip away. Samin heaved himself up and followed her. He waited outside the privy, to which she had to go or be betrayed, and followed her back to the room. He had not followed Alia on any of her many excursions. He was, beyond any hope of doubt, set to guard Joanna.

It would have been easier if she could trust Aidan not to do something mad. Not tonight, maybe. He had that much sense.

But if he was kept away from her every night, sooner or later he would break, and then there was no telling what he would do.When this was over, she would go back to Outremer. Ranulf would try to claim her. She was his wife; there was no escape from that. She did not-G.o.d help her, she did not know if she wanted to escape from it. She did not want to be Aidan's wife, even if he woufd ask it, or expect it. A wife was too much like a servant. She had a duty to her husband's bed. Duty was no part of what was between her and the witch's son of Caer Gwent.

He could be all utterly like a man, warm flesh, swifr desire, tears when he grieved, laughter when he was glad. He was as devout a Christian as any other n.o.bleman, though sometimes he forgot and swore by the G.o.ddess of his mother. He was no devil, or monster, or creature beyond human ken.

But he was not human. He did not, when he let himself be himself, think like a man. Which was why she was knotted with more than wanting him. She feared him. For him. He was as dangerous as a beast of prey, and as unchancy. And men hunted beasts of prey; killed them, and called it justice, because their world allowed no predator but man.