Aidan took a deep breath. Meg was going to have to fend for herself now. She, herself, could barely keep from shaking. Naked. They were being asked to walk naked out onto the deck of this ship, down its gangway, and onto the streets of this city. It was a terrifying thought, and Aidan wasn't certain that she could do it, but she knew if she didn't then the others wouldn't. Somehow it was better, she reasoned, to go under her own steam than to be carried kicking and screaming from this ship.

Gritting her teeth she walked through the open door, and followed Sa'id down the narrow ship's pa.s.sageway onto the deck. She was stark naked but for a necklace of gold and large pearls that she had been wearing the day she was kidnapped. Her long red-gold hair hung to her hips like a shining silken mantle, and from her ears bobbed fat baroque pearls. At the entry to the open deck she hesitated a moment as she saw the bright blue sky and the sun above.

I can't do it, she thought. I just can't! Then behind her young Rosamund hissed, "Ye've got us this far, yer laidyship, don't fail us now. That silly Meg is hanging on to Pipere so hard that she'll strangle her sure unless ye keeps moving." Aidan looked quickly behind her, and saw that what the child had said was true. She also saw that Rosamund for all her bravado was frightened.

Drawing another deep breath she gave the girl's hand a hard squeeze, and stepped out onto the deck where Sa'id handed her a pair of sandals, Rashid al Mansur's one concession to his captive women. Sandals were given to the other three, and they barely had time to get them onto their feet when Rashid al Mansur was saying, "Hurry, for I have been sent word that the dey himself will be at the jenina for just this hour. I will be the most envied man in Algiers tonight for having brought in such fine captives! Follow me, all of you!" and he strode across the deck, the four women hurrying behind him.

For a moment all was silent, and then the air erupted with whistles, and shouting and catcalls in every tongue imaginable. A large smile split the face of Rashid al Mansur at the cacophony of voices. The voices were those of slaves working the waterfront for their masters, galley slaves on their benches, porters, sailors from the various ships, and vendors of all sorts. By the time he walked his captives the short distance to the jenina the word would be racing like wildfire about the city with regard to his captives' beauty and worth. The auction for them would be packed, and frantic.

"Etes-vous francais?" called a voice, and other voices that Aidan comprehended cried out in their languages also. "Venice? Are you from Venice?" "I am Jean-Paul Thierry from Ma.r.s.eilles! Are you from Ma.r.s.eilles?" "Are you from Napoli?" "Genoa?" "San Lorenzo?" "Beaumont de Jaspre?" "Amsterdam?" "Paris?" "London?"

London? Had he said London? She stopped and her head swiveled about seeking the face to match the voice. "Who said London?" she demanded. "I am Aidan St: Michael, Lady Bliss. My husband is Conn O'Malley of Innisfana Island! Tell him where I am, I beg ye!"

Rashid al Mansur grasped Aidan's arm, and dragged her forward. "Do you want to start a riot, copper-haired woman? Whenever new captives are unloaded from the ships the slaves in the harbor attempt to elicit information as to who they are, and where they're from. It doesn't mean that they themselves are from those places. Hurry now! The jenina is just up ahead."

"How could any of those poor creatures tell yer husband anyfing?" said Rosamund. "If they ain't chained to some oar, they got manacles around their feet. I thought ye was a practical woman."

Aidan said nothing, but her hand itched to smack Rosamund. The child was far too bold for her own good. Rashid al Mansur led them through an archway, and into the tiled courtyard of a low white building.

"Take off your sandals," he ordered them.

The tiles felt deliciously cool beneath het feet, and Aidan followed the captain across the courtyard which had a lovely bubbling fountain in its center, and into a small square room.

"Wait here," he commanded them, and hurried out.

"Sweet Jesu," wept Meg, "in my wildest dreams I could never have imagined what just happened to us!"

"Nuffing happened to us," snapped Rosamund. "At least not yet. All we did was walk the short distance from the ship to here."

"Naked!" sobbed Meg. "Naked, with men shouting and calling to us! G.o.d only knows what they said!"

"They said nothing that would have distressed ye had ye been able to understand them," said Aidan with more calm than she was feeling. "They were simply poor captives like ourselves, calling out their names, and where they came from because they were curious as to where we came from, Meg."

"What is going to happen to us now?"

Aidan turned surprised for the question had come from little Pipere. She stroked the child's head, and said, "I am not certain, Pipere, but I believe that the governor of this place is allowed the first pick of the captives. Then we are sold in the market."

"Will Rosamund and me be separated, me laidy?"

"I don't honestly know, Pipere, but I would expect so."

Rashid al Mansur reentered the room. "Come!" he commanded them. "The dey has arrived, and wishes to see you."

They followed him into a large room with arched windows that looked out over the harbor. The building, Aidan realized, was built on a hillside. At one end of the room there was a dais, and two men sat upon the pillows of the dais. One was an elderly man with a snow-white heard, and sharp, brown eyes. He was dressed in an embroidered robe of black with red and gold roses upon it. The other man was garbed simply in a white robe.

"The old man is the dey," hissed Rashid al Mansur. "The other man is his friend, the famous astrologer, Osman Bey." Then the kapitan reis prostrated himself before the dey. "Hail, my gracious lord! Representative of he who is the Shadow of Allah upon this earth!"

"Rise, Rashid al Mansur," came the reedy voice of the dey. "As I came from my palace the city was already abuzz with word of the fine merchandise you have brought us. It will be a pleasure to view your captives. The city is yet awash with a surfeit of Portuguese captives from our recent victories, and not a beautiful woman among them. The price of slaves has been driven to an all-time low, and they are not even worth the little we must feed them. Your females are a welcome delight."

"They are English, my lord. The three younger ones are virgins, attested to by my own physician. They are ten, eleven and thirteen respectively." He prodded Meg, Rosamund and Pipere forward hissing, "Display yourselves for the dey and his guest!"

"Blonds," sighed the elderly dey. "They will bring a fortune on the open market, Rashid al Mansur. Certainly Allah has smiled upon you!"

"My lord has the right of first choice," said the kapitan reis.

The dey sighed again, this time loudly. "Alas I am an honorable man, and the price of these exquisite virgins will be far too much for my purse. Who is the other woman?"

Rashid al Mansur drew Aidan forward, and said with flourish, "This, my lord dey, is an English n.o.blewoman. She is now widowed so alas I cannot claim virginity for her, but look at the color of her hair, her skin, and her eyes! Is she not fit for a king? When have you ever seen such hair? It is the color of burnished copper! And her skin! Like mare's milk! Look into her eyes, my lord dey! They are silvery in color. Behold her form, my lord dey! Is it not the most perfect body you have ever seen?" He had embellished his speech by touching Aidan's hair as he spoke of it, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her face, and it had taken every ounce of her courage not to scream, and slap his hands away.

The dey leaned forward, and his tongue ran quickly around his lips. "Osman Bey, what think you? She is indeed lovely, and a rarity."

"She is certainly fair," said Osman Bey, "and only once before have I seen a form to rival hers."

The elderly dey arose from his pillows, and came down from his dais for a closer look at Aidan. Into her nostrils poured the scent of sandalwood for his clothing and body reeked of it. Slowly he walked around her. His hand came up to stroke her hair, and he said, "It is like the finest silk, Rashid al Mansur." The dey took Aidan's hand. "Tell her to place her hands behind her head," he said to the kapitan reis, and Rashid al Mansur translated the command to Aidan who reluctantly obeyed. The dey's hands reached up to fondle Aidan's b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and tears sprang to her eyes, but he did not notice them. "The skin is most firm, and yet soft. This is a slave of the first rank." He looked at Rashid al Mansur. "What value do you put on this woman, kapitan reis?"

"She is yours by right if you so choose, my lord dey," said the kapitan reis.

"I know that," replied the old man, "but even I have a conscience. Taking a share of a thousand seamen who have been captured in battle, and selling them does not cause me to turn one hair; but this is different. This slave is of great value, and I want her not for myself, but to send as a gift to the sultan. To send my master a gift for which I have paid nothing is to send him nothing. Therefore I would buy this woman from you for a fair market value."

"My lord dey, I do not know what value to place upon the woman for it is not my business to price slaves. Why not call from the bagnio the chief slavemaster, and have him put a price upon the copper-haired woman. I will abide by whatever decision he makes."

The elderly dey agreed, and sent immediately for the chief slavemaster who came quickly, his eyes lighting at the sight of the four women. He had already heard of them for he had spies who waited and watched upon the docks to inform him of the choicest captives being brought for sale.

He prostrated himself before the dey, and only when bidden to arise did he dare to speak. "How may I serve you, my lord dey?"

"Give me a fair market value on the red-haired woman," said the dey. "I would send her to our master, Sultan Murad. Such a valuable and rare female will please him, and do Algiers honor."

The dey's words told the chief slavemaster that he actually did desire a fair-value price on the slavegirl for to send the sultan a woman of insignificance would be an insult. Walking over to where the four stood he pulled Aidan from the group, and looked her over with a careful and trained eye. "Is she a virgin?"

"No."

The chief slavemaster knelt, and put his hand between Aidan's legs. It was too much. She could bear no more of this! She twisted away, pressing her legs tightly together. The chief slavemaster said nothing. He simply signaled to two of the dey's men-at-arms who coming over, pinioned Aidan tightly between them so that she could not struggle, and the chief slavemaster resumed his examination of her most intimate parts.

"Her body is fresh and clean, my lord," he said matter-of-factly, and, he thrust a finger within Aidan, who at that simply swooned away. "Her pa.s.sage is tight. She has not been used greatly," he said.

The two men-at-arms held the half-fainting woman between them as the chief slavemaster continued. With expert hands he ran his fingers over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, nodding with satisfaction as the nipples puckered beneath his light touch. He slid his hands over her torso, and around to feel her b.u.t.tocks. His knowledgeable hands explored her legs, and her feet, and then he stood again. Aidan was conscious now, but she wished she weren't. The slavemaster peered into her eyes, and then to her surprise pried open her mouth to view her teeth. Lastly he felt the weight and texture of her hair, and nodding satisfied said to the dey, "This is definitely a slave of the first ranking, my lord. She will be a very expensive gift for Sultan Murad, but one that he will undoubtedly gain much pleasure from, and therefore remember with kindness the giver. She is worth ten thousand pieces of gold, even without her virginity."

The dey winced, but nodded. "Very well," he agreed, and turned to Rashid al Mansur. "So be it, kapitan reis. I will purchase the woman from you."

Rashid al Mansur was jubilant. Normally the dey would have deducted ten to twelve percent of the purchase price as his due, but he would not do that in this case because the copper-haired woman was to be a gift for the sultan. That percentage along with his own percentage would be his! He turned to Aidan. "You have brought me luck, copper-haired woman. The dey has just purchased you for ten thousand pieces of gold, and he is sending you as a gift to the sultan! If you are clever, your fortune is made!"

"I don't want to be a gift to anyone!" Aidan shouted. She was suddenly very, very angry. She had been poked, and prodded, and invaded as if she were a prize heifer. "I am Aidan St. Michael, Lady Bliss. I am a wealthy woman of rank, and I will be no one's slave! No one's!"

"Ahh," smiled the dey, "she has spirit. So much the better. Phlegmatic beauties can be a bore." Then he turned to his men-at-arms. "Take her to my harem for safekeeping, and remember, she is a gift for Sultan Murad. If she tells me you have touched so much as a hair on her head it is your heads that will roll in the dust. Do you understand?"

The men-at-arms nodded. "We hear and obey," they chorused, and then they dragged Aidan, struggling, and shrieking, from the room.

"My treasurer will see that you are paid, Rashid al Mansur. Go to him after noontime prayers."

"Thank you, my lord dey," said the kapitan reis, and bowing he turned to leave with his other captives. "

A moment, Rashid al Mansur."

The sea captain stopped, and turned back to the dais. "My lord?" It was the powerful Osman, the famous astrologer, who had spoken to him.

"I am curious, Rashid al Mansur, as to where you have obtained a highborn Englishwoman. Did you capture her vessel?"

"No, my lord Osman. I am a merchant, not a man of war. I trade frequently in London, bringing the English oranges, and moroccon leather goods, sometimes cods of musk for perfume making. I return with their fine wool, and tinware, and raw tin. As you may know I began my life in Spain. My cousins are agents for the Spanish king there, and often the opportunity to obtain a blond English virgin comes my way."

"I had heard," remarked Osman, "that you frequently brought back fair maidens, but this woman is slightly older, and not the sort of female that I imagine you would come in contact with."

"You are correct, my lord. This was a rare opportunity. The lady in question is indeed a n.o.blewoman. Her husband's family had given offense to the Spanish king, and he contrived to make it appear as if they were involved in a plot against the English queen. The lady's cousin was involved in the plot, and planned when her husband was killed to marry the lady and thereby gain her wealth. What he did not expect was that the English queen would confiscate the lady's wealth as part punishment for the alleged crime of her husband's family. So this gentleman decided to sell his cousin to me to gain some of the monies he lost by the queen's action.

"She, however, claims that her husband has not been executed, and that the English suspected a false plot, and told her to tell her cousin that she was penniless so they might catch him, and his accomplices. She is a very quick-witted female, arid she is fighting hard against her fate."

"They are always like that at first," said the dey. "European women can be very stubborn."

"The husband's family must have given great offense to the Spanish king that he would bother to involve himself in so byzantine a plot," noted Osman, the astrologer. "What was their name? Do ye know?"

"They were Irish," said Rashid al Mansur. "I don't think she ever mentioned their name . . . wait, this morning as we came here a captive called out that he was from London, and she called back that her husband was Conn O'Malley. That is all that I can tell ye except that her cousin's name was FitzGerald."

"Thank you, Rashid al Mansur," said Osman calmly, but he felt anything but calm. O'Malley! Allah! Was it a coincidence, or was the woman related to his friend Skye O'Malley? What could he do to help her! He couldn't! His friend, the dey, had just paid ten thousand pieces of gold for this woman, and she would be on her way to the sultan in Istanbul in a very short time. There was simply no way he could prevent it, but he might at least be certain of who she was. He smiled at the dey. "Will you allow me to visit the slavewoman you have purchased for the sultan, my old friend? I shall do her chart for you so you may be certain she will bring good fortune to the sultan."

"An excellent idea, Osman! Why did I not think of it, but what if her chart is not in sympathy with his majesty? I have paid a fortune for her!" The dey's forehead puckered with worry.

"If her stars should prove to be wrong you can always sell her for even more than you paid for her," said Osman soothingly, "but I sincerely doubt you will have to resort to such tactics. It is very unlikely she will prove to be the wrong woman for him."

"You are right, Osman, as you always are. Yes, yes! You may come to the palace this afternoon, and see the woman, but how will you converse with her?"

"It has been my experience that European n.o.blewomen speak several languages other than their own, at least French, and I am as you know, quite conversant in French."

"Your wife, of course! How is she?"

"Well, and the children also."

"You will give my greeting to the lady Alima."

"She will be honored, my lord."

The two men departed the jenina, the dey returning in his litter to his palace, and Osman Bey in his litter to his home high above the city. The dey was delighted with his purchase for he knew the sultan's capacity for beautiful women. It was said that his eunuchs were kept constantly busy scouring the slave markets of Istanbul for new and lovely women to fill his harem. This woman, the dey thought with satisfaction, was a rare creature with her red hair. It was said that his favorite, a woman named Safiye, had red hair as did the sultan himself. This slender highborn beauty with her milky skin, her gorgeous hair, and her fine b.r.e.a.s.t.s would catch his eye easily. The dey felt satisfaction coursing through his tired old veins. Undoubtedly the sultan would show his pleasure with his loyal servant, who knew what form that reward might take. The dey smiled to himself within the privacy of his litter. He had been generous with his master. Why should he not be as generous with himself? He would send his chief eunuch to the state bagnio to purchase the eldest of the three blonds Rashid al Mansur had for sale. It was true she would cost a fortune, but he was an old man, and how many years did he have left?

Aidan seeing Meg brought into the harem of the dey's palace late that morning ran to her young friend, and put her arms about her. Meg was trembling violently, and she burst into tears as Aidan's embrace tightened about her. Aidan let her cry, and when she had finally wept for some minutes her sobs gradually died, and she looked up into Aidan's face saying, "It was awful, my lady! It was awful!"

"I know," Aidan answered her realizing from her own experience of this morning just what the gentle girl must have gone through, "but it's all over now, and you are safe."

"Rashid al Mansur was almost beside himself with delight," Meg said. "He told me that the dey himself purchased me. That I am to be the concubine of that old man! I cannot bear it!"

"It could be worse, Meg. The dey appears to be a kindly gentleman. I do not think he will hurt you, and the plain truth of the matter is that you don't have any choice now. What if you had been sold into a brothel, Meg? But tell me, what of Rosamund and Pipere? Do you know what happened to them?"

"Yes," came the reply. "They were purchased by the same man for the slavemaster sold them together as twins. The man who bought them is said to be one of the wealthiest men in the city, but he is a gross, fat creature with eyes like a pig. Rosamund laughed when the sale was made final. She said once she learned the ways of this place she'd have her fat master under her thumb if he wanted her under his bulk. She wasn't one bit afraid, my lady."

"No," said Aidan, "she wouldn't be. I have no doubt that she'll do exactly what she says she'll do."

"What will happen to us, my lady?" Meg asked tremulously.

"Your future is settled, Meg. You belong to the dey, and you will become his mistress. Mine is not so simple. I am being sent to Istanbul to the Turkish sultan as a gift from the dey."

"I will kill myself!" said Meg beginning to sob again.

"What would that solve?" Aidan demanded.

"At least I should not have to submit to the shame of being the dey's kept woman!"

"That seems to be the normal thing here, Meg," said Aidan. "This place we are in now is called a harem. It is the women's quarters of the palace. I have already learned that the dey has two wives, and over a hundred concubines!"

"How did you learn all that?" Meg was astounded.

"I speak French," said Aidan, "and French seems to he the universal language here whatever a lady's native tongue. Even the eunuchs speak it. They are the men you see guarding us. They are gelded so they are considered safe to be around the dey's women. That is another custom of the place."

Meg was incredulous. "Gelded men! What a terrible custom! This is a frightening place. Did you see the heads in the wall niches where you enter into the palace? Some of them were still b.l.o.o.d.y, and there were flies all over them."

"I saw them," said Aidan quietly. "They were slaves who rebelled against their masters. They were caught and punished. That, too, is the way here. Justice, it seems, is swift."

"I am so afraid," said Meg.

"You don't have to be, Meg. The women here tell me that the dey is a good master, and a kindly one. You can be very comfortable here if you will just not fight it." Aidan was amazed with herself. What was she telling this poor child? But then what chance did poor Meg have of ever returning to England, and if she did what did she have to return to? Better she convince her to make her peace with her fate so that she could get on with her life. "The women here tell me that the dey is very generous to his ladies. They have beautiful clothing, and jewelry, the finest foods, and even a little allowance with which to purchase trinkets from the market women who come here to sell their wares."

"I am used to living on a farm," said Meg. "I miss my animals."

"I am sure that if you make the dey happy he will allow you to have a cat. Many of the women do. They are considered sacred to the Prophet."

"Will they force us to renounce our Christian faith, my lady? I could not bear to be tortured!"

"Then agree to whatever they ask you, Meg. G.o.d knows what is in your heart, and who is to know if you pray to our Lord Jesus in secret?"

A young eunuch came up to them, and said in soft French, "My ladies, I have been ordered to escort you to the baths. Please to follow me."

"We are to go to the baths," said Aidan to Meg, and taking the girl's hand she followed the eunuch from the little room where they had been kept.

The baths in the dey's harem were s.p.a.cious, and cool. The walls were pale gold marble, and the floors were blocks of green and gold marble. The room was crowded with women of all sizes, shapes, and colors, all nude, and all being bathed ot otherwise cared for by an army of slave-women. Their arrival was greeted with curiosity for there was not a great deal to do in the dey's harem. A lovely older woman with dark hair, just beginning to silver, came up to them, and Aidan bowed saying to Meg, "This is the lady Zada, the dey's first wife! My lady, this is the maiden who was with me on my voyage. Alas, she does not understand any language but our own, but I will attempt to teach her in my time here."

The dey's eldest wife smiled at Meg. "She is lovely. Tell her we welcome her to our house. Now you will wish to bathe the filth of your long journey from your bodies so I will not keep you. The slaves have been ordered to give you the best of care, especially to you, my lady, for you are going to our master, the sultan." The lady Zada touched Meg's cheek gently, and then pa.s.sed on her way out of the baths.

"The dey's wife welcomes you," said Aidan.

"That was his wife?"

"His first wife. His second wife is that young woman with the long dark hair over there." Aidan pointed discreetly. "The one with the little girl. The child is their daughter."