were of Mid-eastern extraction, but the princess did have a red-haired Venetian, two Greeks, a blond and over- muscled young Swedish boy who, like Niall, had been taken from a galley, a surly Russian, and two slender blacks from the forests to the far south. That they were jealous of him was very apparent. Since Niall had arrived the princess had spent much time with him, at their expense. They refrained from any open action now because they had already tried once to teach this upstart his place, only to have been badly mauled by the infuriated Niall. They had also been whipped by their furious mistress, and threatened with being sold off. More subtle means had been blocked by Hamal who, after their second attempt at poisoning Niall, had threatened to tell Turkhan if it happened again. That would mean an excruciatingly painful death, and none was willing to risk that. So the men of the princess's harem vented their frustration on Niall through verbal means.
'How does an Irishman fuck?' one of the Greeks said.
'Like a pig,' the other answered.
'No, my friend. Pork is forbidden a true believer, and our fair princess is a true believer.'
'Then he must fuck like the dog he is,' a dark-eyed Egyptian said.
Niall smiled pleasantly at the group of men. 'I thought that only Greeks fucked each other like the dogs they are,' he said. 'As for the rest of you,' and he looked mockingly at them, 'you've nothing left to fuck with, impotent eunuchs that you are. No wonder that Turkhan prefers only Hamal and myself. Hell, my infant son had a bigger pizzle than any of you have.'
'If it weren't for the potion that old witch gives you, Ashur, you wouldn't even be able to get it up,' the Venetian snarled.
'Rabi's potion but gives me extra strength to please my princess with, Ibrahim. Pity you'll never again have the chance.' Then with another smile he walked out of the baths, leaving the others behind to fume with a rage they couldn't exhibit lest they anger their mistress. Staring after Niall admiringly, the old bath women chuckled with glee at the exchange.
Rabi was awaiting him, and carefully rubbed musk oil into his sun-bronzed skin until it gleamed and shone with a rich color. Niall enjoyed sunning himself in the gardens, and the dark tan he had now achieved only made his marvelous silver-gray eyes more silvery. He walked and swam regularly, which had kept him from growing fat like several of the harem men who were content to loll about; but his big slender body was of late growing a trifle too lean, for his appetite had fallen off. Still, his bronze skin, dark hair, and silvery eyes combined with his basically sound body to insure his good looks.
Rabi handed him balloon-legged white silk pantaloons, the ankles embroidered with three-inch bands of gold threads, small pearls, and rubies. About his waist was fitted a belt of gilt leather, six inches wide, its rectangular buckle studded with rubies. Niall's feet were shod in gold leather slippers with turned-up toes, and about his neck was hung a heavy gold chain with a heart-shaped pendant carved from a large dark red ruby that lay upon his bare chest. Upon both of his upper arms the old woman clasped wide gold arm bands. Niall felt somewhat ridiculous outfitted as he was, but he knew that it was the fashion here in Fez as much as horsehair padding was in the clothing of European men at the courts of England, Spain, and France. Sipping at the sweet grape sherbet that Rabi had given him, he wondered if Skye would laugh when she saw him, but then he considered what she would be wearing, and felt his anger rise for a moment only to slide away. There was nothing that he could do about it.
'You are the handsomest man I have ever seen,' Rabi said admiringly as she brushed musk into Niall's dark, wavy hair.
“They are a handsome pair,' remarked Selwa, the female eunuch who attended to Hamal. 'Look to my little lamb, Rabi. Is he not magnificent tonight?'
Hamal grinned sheepishly as he burlesqued a twirl. He was as exquisitely garbed as Niall, but his pantaloons were of midnight blue silk, the ankle bands embroidered in silver and studded with tiny diamonds and sapphires. About his neck hung a silver chain with an incredibly opulent pendant, a quarter moon carved from a single enormous diamond with a long sapphire star hanging above it. His belt and his slippers were of silvered leather, both studded with sapphires and diamonds. Hamal was as fair of skin as Niall was bronzed with the sun, for Fasi men of the upper classes abhorred sun on their skins, thinking it a mark of the peasants.
'Come, Ashur,' Hamal said. 'We cannot be late, as Kedar is always on time.' He grinned mischievously at the two old women as they departed the chamber. 'Have a delightful evening torturing the other women as to the failure of their charges,' he teased Selwa and Rabi, and they chortled gleefully, indicating that was exactly what they intended to do.
'Is she here?' Niall asked Hamal nervously.
'Yes,' was the short reply, 'but you must remember, Ashur, that you can show no recognition of your wife. Whatever happens you must show nothing except devotion to Turkhan. My brother is very, very possessive of his Muna. Let him catch you in so much as a glance, and he will destroy you himself. If either of you betrays the other I can do nothing to help you, nor will I even attempt to aid you. If you will not think of yourself you must think of her.'
Niall nodded. 'I understand, my friend, but you must promise not to be jealous of me tonight. I shall dedicate myself to the princess, and make her the happiest of women.'
'Do not hurt her, Ashur.' Hamal's soft brown eyes were filled with concern.
'How can I avoid hurting her, Hamal? If I am to succeed in our plan I must appear to be totally enamored of her. She must be completely certain of me, Hamal. Do not fret, my young friend. It has been my experience that women's hearts may be bruised, but they are seldom broken. She will appreciate you far more, having been betrayed by me.'
Hamal sighed with regret, but he knew that his companion spoke the truth. Better Ashur love Turkhan well before he made good his escape. Turkhan would be furious that something she desired did not after all desire her, but the time had come for him to make his move; his princess must begin to behave like the woman she was instead of a spoiled tyrant. She might be an Ottoman princess and have more freedom than any other woman save the Sultan's mother, but she was still a woman. Sultan Selim II was at fault for allowing Turkhan to remain unmarried. Hamal smiled to himself. He would soon change all of that.
They had reached the dining chamber, a lovely rectangular room with half-tiled walls of sky blue and white, above which rose rough white-plaster walls. The dark ceiling beams were intricately carved, and the wide-beamed floors were covered in thick wool rugs woven in a medallion design of gold and deep blue on a dark red background. They entered the room by walking down two steps. Two low, polished ebony tables had been set directly opposite the entry, behind which lay a number of brightly colored cushions in silk, wool, and cotton. The room was lit by large wall torches that had been fitted into carved golden holders. In each corner of the room stood tall gold censers burning pungent incense, and in the center of each table was a low crystal vase filled with fragrant pink lilies.
Turkhan had reached the room only a moment before the two men, and aiming, she cried out with delight at their costumes. 'You are magnificent, both of you!' she purred with approval.
'And you, my Princess,' Niall murmured almost reverently, 'fill my eyes with such incredible and flawless beauty that I am struck blind by the sight.'
Turkhan colored in surprise. 'Why, Ashur,' she said softly, 'you are beginning to speak like a Persian poet.'
Hamal shifted uncomfortably. He thought that Turkhan was behaving like a young girl. She was almost simpering. Then he realized that he was jealous. Ashlar's very flattering remark had pleased her before he might even comment. He suddenly realized that Ashur had been not jesting when he warned him not to be jealous of him this evening.
Turkhan did not notice her young favorite's quiet mood. 'Let us seat ourselves before my guest and his women arrive,' she said. Garbed in a cloth of silver djellabah whose deep V neckline and wide sleeves were embroidered with small black pearls and pink sapphires, she was looking quite beautiful this night. Her red-gold hair was dressed in two long narrow braids that were looped up on either side of her face, and a long cape of hair that had been dusted with diamond dust streamed down her back. From her dainty ears hung pink sapphires set in silver.
'Are my brother's women to join us?' Hamal inquired curiously.
'It did not seem fair that I deny him their company as I have yours, my lamb,' Turkhan said.
