Byzantium

no other way. Still, as the wazir has said, it was one of his better days. al'Mutamid has been known to disrobe before guests and defecate, or fly into an insatiable fury and demand all his servants be impaled on white-hot spikes.' Turning in the saddle, he said, 'Do not for the briefest instant believe Abu Ahmad shares any of his brother's attributes. Praise be to Allah! Abu's mind is keen as the blade at his side; he is both philosopher and prince. Eighty thousand men serve under his command, and each with but a single thought: to die for the greater glory of God and Abu.'

'The people are fortunate that the khalifa has such a brother,' I remarked. The amir only nodded. He said nothing more until we were dismounting in the courtyard of his palace. 'Tonight,' he declared, swinging down from the saddle in a single, fluid motion, 'is the last night we will have in Ja'fariya. You will eat at my table. I will send Kazimain to bring you at the proper time.'

'As you will, Lord Sadiq,' I replied, trying to emulate his cat-like grace.

'Now, you must excuse me,' he said. 'I have three wives, and owe particular obligations to each. We will be gone many days, so I must do what I can to discharge my marital duties-as is proper in the sight of Allah.'

'By all means,' I replied, 'it would be a sin to leave undone that which, for duty's sake, must be done.'

'Although you are not yet a married man, I knew you would understand.' I watched him walk away, much in envy of his sense of duty.

While the amir's many servants laboured with preparations for our journey, I spent the remainder of the day thinking what I would tell Kazimain. Alas, when I heard the familiar sound of her footfall in the corridor beyond my room, I was no closer to knowing what I should say. Seeing her face-glowing with happiness as she swept into the room-only made the grim chore more difficult.

She crossed the room in two running steps and came into my arms in a rush, knocking me over onto the bed. She kissed me once, twice, three times-whereupon I lost count, drowning myself in her all-encircling embrace. When she paused to catch her breath, she held my face between her hands and looked at me, the light of her happiness a dazzling ray that lit the room even as it lit her eyes.

'I have been waiting for you all day!' she said, placing her chin against my chest and staring into my face. 'The servants said you had gone to see the khalifa.'

'We did that,' I told her. 'I went to obtain freedom for my friends.' How deep were her eyes, and how dark.

'Were you successful?' she asked.

'More successful than I could have hoped,' I replied, tracing the curve of her lips with a fingertip.

'Are you not pleased?'

'But I am,' I said, 'very well pleased.'

'You do not seem pleased. You seem unhappy.' She kissed me again. 'The banquet tonight will cheer you,' she said. 'It is only the amir's family, so we can sit together.'

'Kazimain…' I said, cupping a hand to her cheek. The words stuck in my throat.

Concern drew her brows together. 'What is troubling you?'

'You will have seen the preparations-'

'Yes, the amir is going away again. They say he is going to Byzantium.'

'He is,' I told her, 'and I am to go with him.'

The light went out of her eyes as if snuffed by a cold wind. Misery enveloped her like a robe. 'Why must you go?'

'I am sorry, my love,' I said, reaching for her. She pulled away.

'Why?'

'It was the price for my friends' freedom,' I said, adding, 'and for my own.'

'And you agreed to this?'

'I would have agreed to anything. Yes, I told him I would go.'

'It was wrong of Lord Sadiq to treat you in such a callous manner.' She leapt up. 'I will go to him at once and make him see that he cannot do this.'

'No, Kazimain,' I stood, and held out my hand to her. 'No. It must be this way. The amir needs me with him in Byzantium, and the need is such that he would have taken me with him anyway. I made the best bargain I could.'

'It was wrong to make you choose!' she insisted.

'I have other reasons-' I confessed, 'reasons of my own for going.'

'Reasons that do not include me,' she said accusingly.

'Yes,' I replied. 'It is difficult, I know. But I am content.'

'Well, I am not!' she snapped. Her lower lip quivered, and unshed tears shimmered in her eyes.

I moved closer and put my arms around her; she nestled her head against my shoulder, and we stood for a long moment holding one another. 'I am sorry, Kazimain,' I whispered, stroking her long hair. 'I wish it were otherwise.'

'If you are going, then I will go, too.' She warmed to the idea instantly. 'I will go with you. We can be together and you can show me the city, and-'

'No, my love.' It hurt me to dash her quick-kindled hope. 'It is too dangerous.'

'For me it is too dangerous, but not for you?'

'I would not go at all if need did not compel me,' I answered. 'If I had my way I would stay here with you forever.'

She shrugged my hands from her shoulders and stepped away, looking at me sadly. When she spoke, her voice was soft almost to breaking. 'If you go, I know I will never see you again.'

'I will come back,' I insisted, but the words lacked conviction against her sorrow. 'I will.'

56

Dinner that night was meant to be a festive affair with singing, dancing, and music. Lord Sadiq reclined on cushions at the head of the long, low table with his wives, who fed him choice morsels from the various plates and platters and bowls which the kitchen servants conveyed to the banqueting room in an unfaltering stream.

I dined with Faysal and several of the amir's closest friends; across from us sat the women, who, since it was a festive meal, were invited to eat at table with the men, instead of in the women's apartments. The conversation was light and polite, with much laughter all around. Clearly, everyone was enjoying the farewell banquet. For me, however, the feast was more in the nature of an ordeal: sitting opposite Kazimain, knowing how unhappy she was, enduring her silent reproaches, and unable to cheer her or ease the burden of her sadness or even to explain myself.

The food was lavish and luxurious, and had been prepared in such a way as to delight all the senses; still, it might have been ashes in my mouth for all the joy it gave me. The music, playing soft and low through the meal, and becoming more lively once we had finished and lay back to watch the dancers, seemed interminable and grating.

Ordinarily, I would have enjoyed dinner and music, savouring the strange otherness of tastes and sounds, but in my downcast mood I merely grew fretful and uneasy. I wanted to flee the room and spend the last moments with Kazimain, alone. I wanted to hold her, to love her. I wanted to feel the softness of her skin, to feel her warm and yielding flesh in my arms. I wanted to tell her…Alas, there was so much I wanted to tell her, I could not think. My mind spun anxiously; my thoughts whirled like leaves in a tempest, and I could get no peace.

And then, when the meal was finished and the last of the dancers departed, the women rose from the table and disappeared through a door on the far side of the room.

I made to follow, but Faysal laid a hand on my arm. 'They go to the harim,' he informed me good-naturedly, 'where no man is permitted-not even moon-eyed lovers.'

'But I must speak to Kazimain,' I insisted.

He shrugged. 'Tomorrow you will speak to her.'

Tomorrow will be too late, I thought, and followed the women out of the room. They crossed a torch-lit courtyard and disappeared behind a high door. The harim guard bowed his head respectfully at my approach, but