Aidan stared down at the little package in silent rebellion. She knew that she had to open it, and yet she had no curiosity as to what was within. It could not be a great deal, she thought. About her Jinji, Marta, and the girls watched her eagerly. With a deep sigh she undid the pearl tie, and unwrapped the cloth. Within were the traditional blue and silver garments worn by a woman attending her royal lord and master for the first time. She barely glanced at them, handing them to Marta.

"Usually," said Ilban Bey quietly, "that package is tied with a gilt ribbon. You have not even been in the sultan's bed yet, and he sends you gifts, Marjallah. How foolish you would be to scorn his attentions."

"I do not want those attentions," she said bluntly, and around her the others gasped.

Ilban Bey's eyes narrowed. "You do not appear to me to be mad, Marjallah. Perhaps it is your grief that affects you. Your conduct to date has been very good, and I do not believe you stupid as so many women are. You have a wonderful life ahead of you. The sultan is already enamored of you, and both his mother and his favorite offer you their friendship. You need make only the slightest effort to make our lord Murad happy, and your fortune will be made."

Aidan did not answer him. She knew that whatever she said would be ignored for these people were dedicated to giving the sultan whatever he desired. It was their very reason for being. Her only hope was in an appeal to Murad. If he was truly enamored of her then perhaps he would grant her the right to go home to England.

"Prepare your mistress!" snapped Ilban Bey seeing that she had no intention of defending herself. He wanted to believe that she was considering his wise words, and would acquiesce to their plans for her.

The light silk robe that Aidan was wearing was removed and she stood nude before them. Iris and Fern presented their mother with a silver ewer that had been perfumed with oil of freesia, a heady fragrance distilled from the flower of the same name. Using a large sea sponge Marta squeezed the exotic-smelling water through it, and then sponged her mistress lavishly over her entire body. Aidan then scrubbed her teeth with a paste made from a mixture of pumice and mint leaves, rinsing her mouth with water flavored with mint. Next she was perfumed at all her pulse points with freesia scent.

Ilban Bey scrutinized her carefully, and then nodded to Jinji who quickly dressed his mistress in her garments of midnight-blue trousers of a sheer silk gauze, and a tiny sleeveless short jacket of blue and cloth of silver stripes edged in silver fringe. The rope of pink pearls was then added, but she was allowed no other jewelry this night lest it spoil the sultan's enjoyment of her body. Jinji then seated his mistress, and brushed out her luxuriant copper-colored hair with a brush that had been first dipped in oil of freesia. Then kneeling he slipped a pair of silver slippers upon her feet, and she stood up for their final inspection.

Ilban Bey nodded. "She needs no artifice," he said. "Her color is perfect. Not even kohl could make her eyes more beautiful, and her skin is like roses and cream. She is ready." He fixed Aidan with a stern look and held out his hand to her. "Come! The litter awaits you."

Before following him Aidan took little silk purses from the table, and presented to her servants the traditional baksheesh that Safiye had told her would be expected of her tonight. They murmured their thanks, and wished her good fortune. Aidan almost laughed aloud at that. The only good fortune she could have would be if Murad would allow her to go in peace.

In the hallway outside of her tiny apartment a golden litter awaited to carry her down the Golden Road to the sultan's apartments. Ilban Bey knocked discreetly at the sultan valideh's door, and Nur-U-Banu came out with Safiye to escort the guzdeh, as a woman first chosen by the sultan was known, to the door that opened into the Golden Road. When rhey had reached that point Nur-U-Banu came to the side of the litter, and embraced Aidan warmly.

"My son will make you happy, Marjallah, my daughter. Trust me in this. I wish you joy!" she said feelingly.

Then Safiye embraced her friend. "I envy you this night, dear Marjallah. I wish you joy!"

Immediately she stepped away from the litter, then the bearers were whisking it through the door, and suddenly all was dim and silent. It had been on the tip of Aidan's tongue to tell Safiye that if she truly envied her friend this night, her friend would exchange places with her, but she knew how rude and unkind that would have sounded. She was not after all angry with Safiye. At the end of the hallway the bearers stopped before the door of the sultan's rooms, and carefully placed the litter down. Immediately Ilban Bey was by her side helping her out, and the guards were opening the doors to the room.

The agha kislar escorted Aidan through a salon, and into the sultan's bedroom where he suddenly stopped and bowed low, hissing softly at Aidan as he did so. "On your knees, Marjallah! Do not forget your manners!"

Again rebellion rose up in her breast, but quickly realizing that offending the sultan was not the way to gain his favor, and her desire, Aidan slipped gracefully to her knees, and bending touched her head to the floor as Safiye had taught her.

"Arise, Marjallah," he said in his deep voice.

Ilban Bey was immediately there to help her, and by now, her eyes used to the dimness of the room which was only lit by a few lamps, she saw Murad clad in.a loose white silk robe, lounging upon an enormous bed.

"Let me see her, Ilban Bey," he ordered the agha kislar.

Ilban Bey swiftly removed Aidan's little jacket, and before she could even protest he had loosened the narrow drawstring of her pantaloons, and was drawing them down to her ankles, where kneeling he slipped them over her feet, first removing her slippers. She was clad in naught but the strand of pink pearls.

"It is done, majesty," said the agha arising. Then turning he left the room.

With feline grace Murad slid off the bed, and walked toward her. Even at a short distance she could see his dark eyes were blazing with desire, and she shivered. She must speak now before he became intent upon his l.u.s.t for her.

"My lord, I beg leave to speak!" she said, somewhat breathlessly for his intensity was overwhelming.

The ardor in his eyes was banked to be replaced by amus.e.m.e.nt. Murad realized that he had not deceived her in his rush to put her in his bed, and for that reason alone he said, "Speak, Marjallah." Let her get her pleading over with so he might spend the rest of the night kissing those adorable lips, teaching that beautiful mouth the various ways of pleasing him.

Aidan chose her words carefully. She suddenly knew that this man was a formidable opponent, and she would have but one chance with him. "My lord," she began, "I am not insensible of the honor that you are doing me; and I understand as the valideh has explained to me your wish to meet your obligations since my lord husband, the prince, was under your protection. I would free you of the obligation to take me as a wife. Javid Khan, as you know, freed me, going before the kadi to do so, and signing my papers of manumission. I wish nothing more than to return to my native land, and I beg you to allow me to do so."

"No." The word was crisp, and hung for a long minute in the s.p.a.ce between them.

"I am not your slave!" Aidan protested.

"But you are," he said calmly.

"No! I am not, my lord! Prince Javid Khan made me a free woman, and as such I choose to return home. I do not want to be one of your women."

"You say," said the sultan mildly, "that the prince went before the kadi to free you, and even signed papers of manumission. Where are those papers, Marjallah? Show them to me. Although it will break my heart I will allow you to go from me now, and I will see you returned to your homeland. Show me the papers!"

"I do not have them," she answered him. "It was not necessary for me to carry them with me everywhere I went. They were in my jewelry box in my apartments at the prince's palace. I expect that they were destroyed in the fire that burnt our home to a sh.e.l.l."

"Then," said the sultan, a faint note of triumph in his voice, "you cannot prove the truth of your words, Marjallah. Without those papers you remain legally a slave. A slave sent to me by my friend, the Dey of Algiers. A slave given by me to the amba.s.sador from the Khanate of the Crimea. A slave whose master is now deceased, and whose property therefore reverts to me. You are most certainly my slave, Marjallah." His dark eyes slid over her naked body.

She was astounded. He knew she spoke the truth. He had been a witness to her marriage! Forgetting the disadvantage that her natural state should have been to her, Aidan drew herself up to her full height. "My lord, you know that I speak the truth."

Allah! he thought as his eyes began to seriously consider the beauty of her form. She is beautiful! She is absolutely beautiful! Beneath his silken robe he felt his manhood take notice of her magnificent body, and begin to stir. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were wonderful. Big and full with their angrily thrusting nipples. His fingers itched to span the narrow waist at the end of the long torso; to fondle the soft-looking flesh of her b.u.t.tocks. "I never saw your papers of manumission, Marjallah. You cannot show them to me. Therefore as far as I am concerned they do not exist, and you, according to the law are mine to do with as I please."

"Then you had best kill me now, my lord," she said softly, "for I will not yield to you, I will give you nothing of myself, and I tell you truly that I prefer death to your embrace!"

Murad's dark eyes sparkled with antic.i.p.ation. It had been a long time since any woman had fought him. The languid beauties usually presented to him each Friday night for the first time ordinarily swooned and sighed with delight when he made love to them. They had been trained to accept meekly the fate life had offered them. A fate most of them considered the best in the world. This, however, was a woman who until several months ago had lived her life as a free woman. I will not yield, she said. I will give you nothing, she had threatened. The sultan threw back his head and he laughed aloud.

"You need not give, Marjallah. It is my custom to take what I desire," and he reached out for her suddenly, catching her off her guard, drawing her into his arms to press his mouth wetly to hers.

Aidan had always been a strong girl, and as she had been quite unprepared to have the sultan capture her in his grasp, so was Murad surprised to have his prey twist from his embrace, and with perfectly pared fingernails scratch at his face above his red-gold beard.

With a howl of outrage he leapt back, touching his hand to his injured cheekbones, and seeing a faint stain of blood upon his fingertips. "Tigress!" he hissed at her. "I do not believe in destroying beauty such as yours. I will, however, tame you, and in time you will purr like a kitten beneath my touch."

"No, my lord," Aidan said grimly, "I will not! I will kill myself first. I am not like all those soft beauties that populate your harem. I descend from a race of warriors, and I do not fear death!"

He looked at her admiringly for a moment, and then with a faint smile upon his lips he said, "Bind her!" and from a darkened corner of the room two eunuchs of ma.s.sive proportions stepped forward, and laid hold of her. Aidan did not capitulate easily. Her naked white body twisted and swiveled against the strong grasp of the two black eunuchs who nonetheless forced their captive over to the enormous bed, and then lifted her squirming onto it. First her arms were bound at the wrists to the pillars at the head of the bed, and then her legs were pulled apart, and bound at the ankles to the pillars at the foot of the bed. Their duty done the two eunuchs disappeared back into the shadows of the sultan's bedchamber.

Aidan could not believe what had just happened. No one had ever treated her in such a fashion, even the pirate, Rashid al Mansur, who had brought her to Algiers. Struggling, she tested her bonds, but the strong silk ropes held firm without cutting into her skin. Color flamed into her face as she realized that she was now spread open to his gaze, and helpless to whatever he wished to do. Her heart beginning to pound with fright she looked for him.

Murad, however, was not at this moment particularly interested in Aidan. She was secured, and would cause no further difficulty. He sat upon a chair while an elderly woman slave administered to his wounds, gently disinfecting the weals that Aidan had opened high upon his cheeks. The slave worked gently and carefully, and finished by delicately dabbing the injury with a clear lotion that removed the pain from it. The sultan smiled at the old woman, and politely thanked her. Aidan could not hear what she said in return to her master, but he laughed with genuine amus.e.m.e.nt, and then walked her to the door to usher her from the room.

Turning back he came directly to the bed where Aidan lay helpless and spread-eagled. "Old Ayse says that women with hair of fire, and peppery temperaments make the best lovers. I hope she is right, Marjallah." His eyes glowed warmly as they took her in, and he reached out to touch her.

Aidan managed to move away just enough to avoid his touch. He might have stretched his hand a little farther, but he did not. He simply laughed, a low intimate sound that sent a shiver of dread up her spine. She could not bear his look which was so possessive and pa.s.sionate, and so she turned her head away from him. Seizing her chin in his hand he turned her head back to face him. "You will look at me," he said. Aidan closed her eyes in defiance.

Murad smiled at her disobedience. Her rebellion would only make his conquest sweeter. For several long moments, moments that grated upon Aidan's already edgy nerves, he sat by her side and debated how to begin. She really had the most incredible body. Now he knew why the dey had sent her to him. It was not just her copper-colored hair, it was her fabulous form. He must remember to send a letter to the dey telling him that Marjallah was back in his possession, and how delighted he was with her; so much so that he would not part with her this time.

Aidan's eyelids fluttered as she peeked from beneath her lashes at the sultan. What was he doing? What was he going to do? She was very frightened despite her show of boldness. Never had she felt so terribly lost as at this minute. Murad stood up, and loosening his robe removed it, and tossed it aside. Her heart hammered against her chest as he turned back to the bed. He was a slim man of medium height, his pale skin in great contrast to his gold-red beard and closely cropped hair.

Murad's languid, dark eyes once more viewed his helpless prey, and then without a word he slid his body between her legs, and lowering his head began to lick at her secret treasures. Aidan shrieked wildly at this totally unexpected first attack, and she attempted to twist herself away from him, but the ropes binding her to the carved posts of the sultan's bed would allow for only the smallest of movements, and she could not escape the warm, probing tongue that was slowly, and very thoroughly exploring her.

"Please don't," she gasped pleadingly, "oh, please don't do that to me!"

He ignored her as if she hadn't even spoken, his strong fingers firmly pulling her nether lips wide and holding the thick pink skin apart while the pointed tip of his tongue first caressed the ridge of flesh on either side with long, smooth strokes, and then touched delicately at the very core of her being. The scent of her, half female, half fragrant freesia, was the most intoxicating perfume he had ever known. His shaft was so rigid that the skin felt as if it was going to burst from around it. Flicking his tongue back and forth upon that sensitive little jewel of hers he worked with an inner rhythm learned so long ago in his history that he had actually forgotten the first time he had tasted a woman. It was a preference, however, that he had never grown tired of for each maiden was different.

Aidan was moaning, the sound a mixture of shame and pleasure. She was being ravished, and she hated it. Hated him for what he was doing, but yet her body was responding to the stimuli of his lovemaking. She didn't understand it, and again she considered the alternative of death. Somehow, she thought, somehow she would find a way to escape him, and this insidious degradation he was inflicting upon her. Murad plunged his tongue into her helpless body, swirling it about the pinkish pa.s.sage, pressing his face into the most intimate part of her. Aidan struggled mentally to resist him, to deny him that final victory. Fiercely she pushed the pleasure away with so strong an effort that for a brief second she actually believed she would triumph over him, but then his lips fastened upon her little jewel, and he sucked hard upon her. It was too much, and an explosion of stars burst within her forcing her final surrender, and she sobbed as much with her pleasure as with her frustration at being beaten by him.

Murad pulled himself up level with Aidan, and reclining upon an elbow watched her. Helpless to her pa.s.sion the lower half of her beautiful body writhed, straining against the silken ropes that bound her to the bed. He had always enjoyed watching a woman in the throes of desire, and he maintained the level of her craving for several long minutes by simply rubbing her sensitivity with his index finger every few moments.

Satisfied now that he had proven to her his superiority over her the sultan decided to inflict another salacious torture upon his victim as well as take the edge from his own l.u.s.t. He called out to the two black eunuchs, and they, as ordered, hurried from the shadowy corner where they had been seated to place plump pillows behind Aidan's back propping her up. With no further foreplay Murad thrust himself into her readied sheath, and then, his shaft well lodged, he began to play with her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

She had known that he had eventually planned to unite with her, and that bound as she was she had no choice but to accept him, but his entry was still so sudden and surprising. He filled her, his hardness pushing against the walls of her pa.s.sage, but he made no other movement than to simply enter her. He was far more interested in her beautiful b.r.e.a.s.t.s which he handled as if they had been separate ent.i.ties. He did not have large hands, and so her b.r.e.a.s.t.s overflowed his palms causing him to exclaim with delighted wonder.

His fingers fondled the flesh, leaving faint impressions on her fair skin. "I had my first woman when I was thirteen," he said quietly in a conversational tone that she somehow found embarra.s.sing. "I have deflowered over a thousand virgins, and made love to over two thousand women in my lifetime, but never, exquisite Marjallah, have I seen such wonderful b.r.e.a.s.t.s on a woman. They are perfect in form, in texture, in color. You are perfect in form. The most perfect woman I have ever seen. I will not, however, be satisfied to simply possess your body. I must have all of you, and in time I will!" Leaning forward he began to suck upon her nipples.

A cry rose up in her throat, but she forced it back. What good would it do her to scream? Besides she could not allow him to have any more of a victory over her than he had already had. She hated him with an intensity that would have startled Murad had he but known it. Javid Khan had freed her, and the sultan knew it. Still he had forced her back into slavcry to endure this shameful bondage. She had never known anything but tenderness and love from men. Now she was learning the darker side of pa.s.sion. She was learning l.u.s.t.

"Look at me, Marjallah!" he commanded.

She focused her gaze upon him, and he smiled cruelly seeing the truth of her feelings in her storm-gray eyes. "You will not always hate me, my exquisite one," he said self-confidently. "In time you will love me as they all love me. In time you will learn to hunger for my caresses, and there will even come a time, though you doubt it now, that you will beg for those caresses."

"I will be dead long before then, my lord," she hissed at him. "You can never really tame a free creature to your leash, and I was born free. Javid Khan understood that, and he freed me. You understand nothing of me, but be warned that I shall not flourish within the confines of your walled garden for I am not like the other flowers who bloom here. I shall wither, and I shall die, my lord, and you will never really possess me!"

Allah! How her defiance excited him! He could feel himself throbbing within the heat of her body, but he was not yet ready to take his release. Her words had stung him, and he felt the need to punish her, to humiliate her, to once again gain a mastery over her; and he knew precisely how he would do it. Abruptly he withdrew his swollen manhood from her body, and barked an order to the eunuchs again.

They hurried forth to pull the bolsters from behind her back, and to untie her. Have I beaten him? Aidan wondered, but she quickly found that she had not. Rather than releasing her the eunuchs turned her over upon her stomach, and rebound her once again. Two small, hard pillows were stuffed beneath her lower belly elevating her hips. She felt the sultan sliding his body lightly over her back, and then he pushed her hair aside so he might kiss her neck. The warmth of his lips sent a tingle down her spine.

His hands then moved her long tresses over her head, and onto the silken mattress above her head. His lips touched her ear in an erotic caress, and she felt his tongue licking the side of her face.

Then he whispered softly to her, "A woman has two maidenheads, Marjallah. I suspect that your second maidenhead has not been tampered with. Am I correct?"

"I... I do not know what you mean," she said puzzled. "A second maidenhead?"

He hovered over her prostrate form, and his hand smoothed over the bulb of her bottom, running along the division between the twin moons, a finger suddenly and boldly pushing between the halves to worm itself into her. "Here," he said, "is your second maidenhead, my exquisite Marjallah. Has any man ever penetrated this pa.s.sage?"

"Never!" she gasped.

He gently worked his finger up to the knuckle.

Aidan panicked entirely. "Don't!" she begged him. "Please, don't." She tried to dislodge the offending finger, but she could not which only increased her sense of fear.

The finger was withdrawn, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief that she quickly discovered was very premature. She felt him lubricating the entry to her rear pa.s.sage with some sort of ointment, and then he grasped her hips firmly. Some primitive instinct warned Aidan what was coming, and terrified, she shrieked wildly.

"In G.o.d's name, no! Have pity on me, my lord! Doooooon't.'"

The sultan felt a strong surge of potency flooding him as he forced this woman to his will. Slowly, for he had no desire to harm her physically, he pressed the head of his manhood upon the puckered entry to her rear pa.s.sage until at last it gave way, and he worked his way into her. Now he rested a moment having gained a bridgehead, and then he once again began to force himself forward, an inch at a time, until he was at last buried completely within her. Beneath him Aidan sobbed, broken in spirit at least for the moment.

Murad groaned against her ear. She was so wonderfully tight, and if he had throbbed within her frontal pa.s.sage, he was throbbing twice as fiercely now. He had used women like this many times, but never had he had the feeling that she was now giving him. He wanted release. He needed it! Drawing himself almost completely out of her he plunged back in, and out, and in again and again and again while she wept uncontrollably beneath him. Finally the sultan shouted with exultation, and collapsed upon her, forcing the breath from her, and Aidan fainted.

When he finally rolled off her he found that they could not revive her. She lay insensible, and no amount of stimulants could arouse her. Disappointed Murad had her carried back to her chamber, and another maiden was sent for to entertain the sultan that night.

Aidan did not regain her senses until late the next afternoon. She awoke slowly to find the sultan valideh sitting by her bed, a very worried expression upon her face. Aidan's eyelids fluttered, and she finally opened her eyes.

"Dear child, praise Allah!" Nur-U-Banu exclaimed.

"Then I am still alive?" Aidan whispered. "I hoped that I had died."

"Say it not!" cried the sultan's mother.

"But it is true, and I mean it! Oh, madame, you have been so kind to me, and I realize I must seem ungrateful, but I do not want to he one of your son's wives. Why will no one listen to me? Javid Khan freed me, and I want to go back to England. Oh, I know you tell me that I cannot, but I could if you would but just free me! I know my husband, and he has not remarried as you suggest. He would want me back! I know he would! When I was wife to the prince I had no real choice in the matter, but I do now. I do!"

"What did my son do to you that put you in this state?" asked the valideh.

Slowly, and with flaming cheeks, Aidan told her. Nur-U-Banu snorted. "Among the men of Islam, this is a common practice, despite the Prophet's ban upon it. Murad's father forced me to it once, but when he learned I did not like such things he confined his urges for variation to those of his women who did, and believe me, Marjallah, there are those women. I will simply tell Murad that such practices are not to your taste, and he will not inflict it upon you again."

"I want to go home," Aidan said doggedly, but the valideh ignored her, and now convinced that she would be all right left her to rest. Aidan shook her head. They would not listen to her. There was therefore nothing left to her but death.

To her surprise, however, she found that Murad had taken her threats of suicide quite seriously. There was, she found, no means by which she could end her life, and she was rarely left alone. Her food was brought to her already cut up so there was no knife available to open her veins, or plunge into her heart. Her jewelry was locked away, and taken out only when she could be watched. She was, therefore, not able to swallow a piece of it, choking herself, thereby putting a quick end to her unhappy existence.

She was kept docile the next few days by means of drugs in her food for it was hoped that rest might cure her depression. Murad fretted irritably for his first experience with his exquisite Marjallah had only whetted his appet.i.te to possess her entirely. Over the next several days a parade of women came to the sultan's bed, but after satisfying his physical urges he angrily sent them away for none of them really pleasured him anymore. None of them was the exquisite and unattainable Marjallah. He had to have her!

"He is obsessed with Marjallah," the valideh complained to Esther Kira. "No other woman will do now. At least it is not as bad as it was with Safiye for Marjallah despises the sultan. She will not use him so shamefully to her own ends as did the bas kadin use my son."

"Not now, perhaps," replied Esther Kira. "She has yet to accept my lord Murad, but once she recovers from her depression, and realizes she has no other choice but to give herself body and soul to his majesty, what do you think will happen, my dear friend? I can tell you! She is intelligent, and she will strive to have a child, a son if possible. Having borne that son will she be satisfied to see him destroyed by any of his elder brothers? She will not! She will fight for her son as would any natural mother. She will buy and she will win allies against Safiye who is not particularly liked among the other women of the harem. She may even win Sultan Murad away from Safiye entirely which I know will not displease you, but think, my dear friend! Think of at what price!

"If Marjallah gains the sultan's love at Safiye's expense, she will influence him to choose her son over Safiye's. There will be war in the harem, war in the divan, and even war within the empire as these two princesses fight for possession of the mantle of Defender of the Faith. The Janissaries will become involved, and who knows which way they will swing. Both the black eunuchs and the white eunuchs will take sides, and we both know they never take the same side. Did not Javid Khan free Marjallah? What a pity the sultan does not simply let her return to her homeland."

Esther Kira's words gave Nur-U-Banu food for thought. The old woman had ever been a good friend of the royal family, and so the sultan valideh never even considered the possibility that she had a motive other than the Ottoman welfare. Nur-U-Banu thought of how she had discouraged Marjallah from even attempting to return to her homeland, and she felt guilty, but what else could she do? She loved her son, and Murad had been determined to have the woman. She sighed. For once she was at a loss to find a simple solution to a problem, and as each day pa.s.sed Murad became more enamored of the woman who disdained him so.

She was now a raging fever in his blood. Murad had allowed Aidan four days to recover herself, and then he had called for her again. Learning from his first experience with her he had decided to change his tactics. Harshly forcing her to his will was not the answer. She was far too strong-willed a woman, and he knew that she really would die rather than give him too easy a victory. He intended to win her over, but at the same time he intended that she should understand that he was the master.

It was the sultan's habit to spend the morning attending to the business of his empire, and among the creative and intellectual men of his court. His afternoons, however, were always spent in the harem. Murad had given orders that the opiates being used to control the lady Marjallah be discontinued. He wanted her fully cognizant and clearheaded when they met, and he anxiously awaited her arrival, smiling welcomingly as she was escorted into the room by the agha kislar. She wore a beautiful gold embroidered caftan of peach-colored silk, and her marvelous hair was loose about her shoulders. There were faintly purple smudges of shadows about her gray eyes, and she was unsmiling.

The sultan took her hand saying, "I have missed you, my exquisite Marjallah. Each day without your sweet presence has been like a year. Each night without you, a century."

"The night I spent with you seemed more like a thousand years in h.e.l.l, my lord," she answered him coldly.

Murad waved Ilban Bey from the room even as the agha opened his mouth to reprimand Marjallah. Then the sultan looked deeply into her eyes, and said, "I am going to say to you something I have rarely said to anyone in my lifetime, Marjallah. I am sorry, my exquisite one. I am not used to being defied by anyone, and you angered me very much the other night. Angered me so greatly that I foolishly sought to cruelly force you to my desires. In doing so I hurt and frightened you, and for that I am deeply sorry. I will say no more on it. We will begin anew, but one thing you must understand about me is that I am your master, and I will not abdicate that part of myself to any woman. You will obey me as do all my women. I will try, however, never to ask of you that which will hurt you. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, my lord," she answered him tonelessly.

"Good," he said, "and from now on, Marjallah, each time you enter this bedchamber you will remove your garments. I have already told you that you have the most flawless, and the most beautiful body I have ever seen on any woman. I want to enjoy that beauty whenever we are together like this."

Aidan unb.u.t.toned the pearl b.u.t.tons that fastened her caftan, and then drew the garment over her head, tossing the silk onto a chair. "As my lord wishes," she said.

He smiled. "Very good." Reaching into his pocket he drew forth a small pouch of black silk, and opening it poured into his hand two little silver b.a.l.l.s. "Have you ever seen anything like these?" he asked her.

"No, my lord. What are they?"

"They're to give you pleasure, my exquisite one. They will give your pa.s.sionate nature a fine edge whenever you are with me. The b.a.l.l.s are hollow. Inside one is a tiny drop of mercury. Inside the other a minute little tongue of silver. Lie back upon the bed, and allow me to place them within your sweet pa.s.sage. Then you will see what happens. "

Aidan was beyond caring. Normally she would have questioned such a thing, but now it didn't matter if she lived or died, and so she didn't care what he did to her. Obediently she lay upon the bed, opening her legs to him. Carefully Murad inserted the two little silver halls inside her, gently pushing them into position. Just touching her in so intimate a manner aroused him, but he successfully fought back his own l.u.s.t, and drew her back up from her p.r.o.ne position. "Now," he said, "walk about the bedchamber, and tell me what you feel."

She walked away from him, but scarcely had she gone a few steps than she began to feel as she did just before the marvelous melting feeling that always accompanied her pa.s.sion with both Conn and Javid Khan. Startled she stopped, but then believing she had only imagined such a thing she then continued on across the large room. The feeling had not been imagined! Standing on her feet she found herself shuddering with pa.s.sion.