that I am not.'
'You have but to command me, my lord Kedar.'
A slow smile lit his features, and he turned to the black slave who stood awaiting his master's commands. 'Well, Dagan, did my uncle not present me with a perfect jewel?'
'Yes, master. The lord Osman was most generous.'
Kedar turned to Skye. 'And you, my fair Muna. What do you think of Dagan? He has been with me for ten years now, and I trust him with my life.'
'I did not speak to the man, my lord, not knowing if it was permitted.'
Kedar laughed. 'Dagan is not a man, my beautiful slave. He is a eunuch. I should not allow him near you were he not gelded.' He turned to the slave. 'Stay, Dagan. I want to give Muna the lesson I give all the women I take into my harem.'
The black man smiled broadly. 'Yes, master!'
Kedar gently began to unbutton the little pearl buttons that held together the halves of Skye's caftan. When they were all undone he pushed the gown off her shoulders, and it silently slid to the floor. She stood very still while his hands wandered casually over her breasts. 'Each woman, my fair Muna, should have something to fear. Most of the women in my harem fear the lash should they displease me, but your skin is so incredibly lovely that I would never mark it. It was therefore necessary to devise a punishment that you would fear, and I have decided on the bastinado. Have you ever suffered this form of chastisement?'
'No, my lord.' She knew of the bastinado, of course, but never had Khalid used such cruelty.
'Then you cannot be fearful of that which you do not know. I intend to give you a lesson in the bastinado now, my fair Muna. You will then understand and be afraid. You will also comprehend that if you should at any time displease me, you will be put to this discipline.' Kedar turned to Dagan. 'I will hold her,' he said, and then he instructed Skye in a quiet voice. 'I want you to lay upon your back on the floor and elevate your legs upon these pillows.'
Skye was terrified. 'My lord,' she pleaded with him, 'please do not do this!'
For a moment he was tender, gathering her into his arms and crooning to her. “There, my jewel, of course you are frightened, but I will not excuse you this lesson. Only when you have felt the pain can you be truly afraid. Only then will I have a deterrent to unruly behavior. Come, Muna, it will only be five strokes. Were I really punishing you it would be twenty or more, depending upon your offense.' He drew her down to the rug, kneeling with her, positioning her with great care. Then he sat across her hips and, leaning forward, held her slender legs in a firm grasp. 'Begin, Dagan,' he commanded the black.
The sharpness of the first blow caused her to cry out. Over Kedar's bowed head Dagan grinned cruelly down at her as he administered the second fierce blow. This time Skye shrieked in earnest. 'Please, my lord Kedar! Please, no more! No more!' Kedar was, however, a man of his word, and the third, fourth, and fifth blows fell upon the tender, now burning soles of her feet, the pain so intense that Skye fainted, taking the only escape open to her.
She was unconscious but a few moments, awakening to Kedar's purring voice. “There, my jewel, now you know the price of offending me, do you not?'
'Yes, my lord,' she managed to whisper.
'Repeat the words I taught you last night, fair Muna.'
Skye shivered. She knew exactly what he wanted her to say, and every fiber of her being rebelled against saying
Above her, Kedar smiled, satisfied, and raised her up to face him. 'You learn quickly, my jewel,' he said approvingly. 'I believe you will eventually become my favorite.' Tenderly he brushed a tear from her cheek. “There now, fair Muna, there is naught to cry about. You please me mightily.' He smiled down on her, and then drew her over to the awninged couch. She was shivering with shock, and he pulled her gently down upon the couch with him, wrapping his arms around her. 'Dagan, fetch refreshments,' he commanded his slave.
Skye was suddenly very aware of her nudity. 'Please, my lord, may I have my garment?'
'Do not be embarrassed before Dagan, my jewel. It means nothing to him, and I prefer you like this for now.' He kissed her lightly, absently caressing her breasts. 'You are so beautiful,' he murmured. 'Your skin is so flawless, so perfect.'
They were words she was to hear over and over again during the next few weeks. She fascinated and consumed him with her beauty. He cared for nothing else. He rarely spoke to her on any subject of importance; his words being those of her master, her lover. Her days took on a pattern of sameness. She slept the morning away, went to him in early afternoon after visiting the baths, left in late afternoon, slept again, bathed, ate supper alone or with Alima, and sometimes Osman, then awaited Kedar's return from his business and social rounds late in the evening. She then spent the entire night with him, departing in early morning for her own rooms. As a lover, he was insatiable, and totally unlike any man she had ever known. He cared only for his own pleasure, and took her with great gusto at least three times each night, and very often as many as six. He never seemed to tire of exploring, caressing, and kissing her.
Skye was frankly frightened of Kedar. He was a man of mercurial temperament, and she feared offending him. The threat of the bastinado was a real and terrifying one to her. Still, she sought ways in which to intrigue him, for she did not want him to grow bored with her. She found that quick changes of mood on her part interested him greatly; and so she was shy one moment, daring the next. She knew he particularly enjoyed her reactions to his lovemaking, and so even when he moved too quickly to arouse her she pretended great passion. It stroked his ego, and he rumbled his contentment like the great cat she pictured him. 'You are perfection,'' he would murmur against her ear. 'Sweet, honeyed perfection!' More often than not she would shiver at his words.
The day before they left Algiers for Fez, Osman came to Skye's chambers in the women's quarters. He felt some guilt for the faint purple circles under her eyes, but there was a new air of determination about her that he had never seen before. 'I have had word from Hamal, my daughter. He says you are to come ahead. Your Niall still lives.'
“Thank God!' Skye breathed fervently.
'Skye,' it was the first time he had called her by her own name in weeks. 'I am quite frankly worried about your effect upon Kedar. If you had set out to enchant him-and I know you have not-you could not have done a better job of it. He can speak of nothing but you and your beauty when he is with me. If I did not know better I should say he is falling in love with you, and that, my daughter, must not happen! I knew his reputation, of course, but frankly, until now I was not fully aware of his appetites. I wonder if I have not set you too hard a task.'
'You have said it yourself, Osman. There is no other choice. Niall is alive, and I will not rest until I have freed him. How could I, knowing what I know, return to my former life? There is only one way to Fez for me, and I am already on that road. Why do you fret so? Have my stars changed suddenly, Osman?'
'No, they have not changed. You will always attain your heart's desire, Skye, though the road to it be roughly paved, though you yourself may not even know what it is you want. In the end you will gain your goals. In this have you been singularly blessed.'
“Then tomorrow I leave for Fez,' Skye said quietly.
'Does he abuse you?' Osman flushed at the boldness of his own words to her, but he was truly distressed at the situation in which he had placed her. He had never seen his nephew so consumed by anything, let alone a woman. Then, too, Alima had mentioned that Skye had an occasional bruise, and marks on her body that might possibly indicate that Kedar was mistreating her.
'Your nephew is enthusiastic in his wooing of me,' Skye said wryly. 'No, he has not actually hurt me, although he has threatened me with the bastinado should I misbehave. He illustrated that threat with a sample of that particular punishment. He does not, you see, want to mark my skin with a lash. His small lesson was a warning that my behavior should always be decorous. I will admit, Osman, that he frightens me.'
