Byzantium

however, had altered to an expression of astonished admiration.

'The words were yours, not mine,' I said. 'The physician Farouk was kind enough to translate for me. If there is any doubt, I am certain he will recall the conversation.'

'Yes! Yes!' Sadiq cried impatiently. He whirled away from me, stalked to his chair and flung himself down in it. He sat glaring at me for a moment. 'Well? Will you yet speak?'

'I would be most happy to tell you whatever you wish to know, lord,' I replied evenly. 'First, however, I require an answer to my request.'

'And I have already told you!' he shouted. 'It is impossible; a woman of nobility cannot marry a slave. The disgrace would be past enduring. Then there is the matter of faith: you are a Christian, she is a Muslim, and that is the end of it.'

'For my part, I am willing to embrace Islam for her,' I told him, squaring my shoulders. 'But, if our marriage is impossible, I have nothing further to say.' Strange to tell, but my pretence of defiance actually made me feel more bold. I returned Sadiq a steady gaze, courage mounting with every thumping beat of my heart.

The amir stared at me balefully. 'You are a slave and a traitor,' he intoned.

'A slave I may be, lord,' I answered. 'But I am no traitor. If someone has suggested this to you, he is either mistaken or a liar.'

The amir turned his head to look at Faysal, who only gazed back in bewilderment. 'Never have I encountered such audacity,' declared Sadiq. 'Is this the gratitude my benevolence has earned?'

'What manner of benevolence is it that seeks the death of the guest who shelters beneath the amir's protection?' I charged, and at once feared I had pressed him too far.

He growled and dismissed my question with a flick of his hand. I pressed my attack with a brazen disregard for life and limb. 'Consider, O Benevolent One,' I said, stepping forward a pace, 'that marriage creates strong ties of blood. Naturally, a man constrained by such bonds would not betray his lord, for to do so would be to betray himself. Who but the most vile and contemptible craven would even ponder such a thing?'

Amir Sadiq cocked his head to one side and gave me a long, grudging look, then looked away as if the sight wearied him. 'No doubt it was a mistake to teach you to speak. But as you have found your tongue,' he said, affecting scorn and impatience, 'please continue.'

'Kazimain and I wish to be married,' I stated. 'You say it is impossible since I am a Christian and a slave. Yet, I am willing to convert, and you hold it in your power to grant my freedom. Do it, Lord Sadiq. Perform the impossible, and men will marvel at your power-'

'Men will marvel at my foolishness!' he sneered.

'No.' I shook my head slowly. 'Your generosity and sagacity will become legendary. For in one bold act you will have freed a man beholden to you and secured him with ties more binding than any slave's chain could ever be-ties of loyalty and blood.'

Lord Sadiq said nothing for a long moment; he simply sat staring, his gaze deep and searching. I stood assured before him, confident in my claim. Incredibly, I felt no fear. I had cast my lot and could do no more; it remained for him to decide my fate.

The amir clapped his hands and I thought he would proceed with the execution. Instead, Sadiq shouted, 'Bring Kazimain!'

We waited in silence while servants went to fetch the young woman. The amir said nothing, but remained carefully watchful-as if he thought I might vanish in a wisp of smoke if he did not keep an eye on me. For myself, I bore the waiting easily, secure in my new-found confidence.

Soon, Kazimain appeared, hastened into the hall by two of the amir's bodyguard who led her to stand before the amir and then took their places with the other warriors standing behind us. Kazimain did not look at me; she kept her eyes on Lord Sadiq all the while. To her credit, she betrayed neither fear nor alarm, but maintained an impassive expression. There was, I thought, more than a hint of determination in the set of her jaw, and her glance remained keen.

'I have loved you like a daughter, Kazimain,' Sadiq said quietly. 'Therefore, it distresses me to hear the lies this man has been speaking about you.'

'Lies, amir?' she wondered. 'What lies are these?'

'He says that you two wish to be married,' replied Sadiq. 'He says that you have agreed to this. I suspect it is nothing more than a clumsy ruse thrown up like dust before a wind to distract me from his genuine motives. I would know the truth.'

'If these are the lies that you find so distressing,' she replied coolly, 'then allow me to put your mind at rest.' The amir's quick smirk of satisfaction faded at once as she continued, saying, 'Aidan is not lying. He is telling the truth.'

She said it so calmly that the amir did not seem to hear at first. He made to rise from his chair and then stopped in mid-motion and fell back again. 'Kazimain,' he implored, 'do you know what this means?'

'I know when someone has asked me to marry,' she answered smoothly. 'And I know well when I have agreed.'

Lord Sadiq looked from her to me and back again, tapping the arms of his chair with his fingertips. 'What if I said that I thought you were saying these things merely to save his worthless life?'

'If you were to tell me such a thing, my lord,' Kazimain replied without hesitation, 'then I would say that it is the amir who is telling lies. The truth is that Allah has brought us together and, out of obedience, we wish to be married.'

'He is a slave, Kazimain,' the amir pointed out.

'Who holds the power to change that,' wondered Kazimain, 'if not the amir himself?'

'That is what he said,' grumbled Sadiq. He tapped the arms of his chair for a long moment. I could see him struggling to grasp the implications of the circumstances arrayed before him. Sure, the thing had taken a strange leap; he was no longer certain what to say or do.

Here, Faysal endeavoured to help. The amir's advisor stepped forward and bent to whisper in his ear. Sadiq listened, nodded, then said, 'Before I could grant such a request as this man has made, I must be certain in my heart that he was not a spy sent here to help bring our people to destruction.'

'As to that,' I said, 'I have offered to tell you whatever you wish to know once I have obtained my request.'

'I must have more than that!' snapped the amir. 'You are asking gold and rubies of me, but offering only dung and pebbles in return.'

We had reached an impasse; neither of us could move without giving valuable ground to the other. Kazimain took it on herself to break the deadlock.

'My Lord Sadiq,' she said, 'is not a spy by nature scheming and duplicitous? What schemes has this man fomented? What duplicity have you discovered in him?'

'None,' admitted the amir. 'Yet, lack of discovery does not mean there has been no deception. A spy will necessarily be skilled in hiding his deceit.'

'Thus,' pursued Kazimain, 'lack of deceit becomes proof of deception. Innocence confirms guilt. If that is what justice has become, Wise Amir, then all men stand condemned.'

'You twist my words, woman!' growled the amir. Turning his face to me, he said, 'The accusation has been made and is yet to be denied.'

By this I knew that he was softening. I decided to risk meeting him halfway. 'Were I to gain approval to marry your kinswoman, the problem would cease to be important,' I pointed out.

'You are saying this to save your life,' Sadiq maintained, but the fight was going out of him.

'I am saying it because it is true,' I countered. 'If it helps save my life, well and good. If not, you will have killed a loyal and trustworthy man, and one who has ever treated you with gratitude and honesty. I can say no more.'

'If I grant you the approval you desire,' said the amir, his tone that of a horse-trader seeking to make the best of a bad bargain, 'will you yet treat me with honesty and loyalty?' I opened my mouth to speak my affirmation of his offer, but he stopped me with a raised finger. 'And will you answer all my questions to my complete satisfaction?' He lowered his hand, inviting my reply.

'Lord Sadiq,' I told him, 'whether my answers will indeed satisfy you, I cannot warrant. But you have my word that I will answer your questions in all truth.'