The Love Slave Part 19

Still, each time Zahra looked at Zaynab, she felt uncontrollable anger. She could not seem to help it. What right had this girl to take the caliph from her? And what if Zaynab had a child? Not that she really expected any child of any of her husband's women to supplant her own son, Hakam. Abd-al Rahman had always made it quite clear that Hakam was to follow him as caliph. But what if he changed his mind? What if he came to love Zaynab more? She laughed shakily. Why was she so upset? There was no danger to her high position or to her son. Yet she did not know that for certain. An older man in love with a young girl might act foolishly.

Her choler was not improved by the knowledge that Zaynab and her servants were to be moved to al-Rusafa. "From whom is she in such danger here that he must move her?" she said bitterly to Tarub. "It is ridiculous! Simply ridiculous!" Zahra's color was high.

Tarub attempted to soothe her friend, her warm brown eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g with sympathy. "Do not fret yourself, Zahra. The caliph plays at being the concerned lover with Zaynab. He merely wishes to be alone with her for a time. It is natural. Do you not remember how we used to sneak off to the summer palace with him? When she is recovered, he will bring her back. With al-Rusafa to the northeast of Cordoba, and Madinat al-Zahra to the northwest, he will spend more time on his horse than in Zaynab's arms." Tarub chuckled. "She is young, and probably frightened by what happened. Whatever the caliph may have told her, Zaynab is not stupid. She knows the chances of finding who poisoned her are small at best. By taking her to al-Rusafa he merely rea.s.sures her, and eases her fears."

But Zaynab was not frightened. She was angry that someone would have tried to kill her. To her knowledge, she had no enemies. It was therefore some silly girl who actually believed that by killing the caliph's Love Slave she could win his attention herself. It was unlikely she would ever know who had done it, but she certainly intended to be on her guard from now on. She watched, furious, as her clothing was carefully removed for burning as per Hasdai ibn Shaprut's instructions.

"It is ludicrous that all of my clothing must be destroyed," she fumed. "It could not all be poisoned! And my jewelry will be ruined, being boiled in a vinegar solution! d.a.m.n that meddling physician!"

"He saved your life, lady," Oma said sharply. "Surely that is worth a few garments and trinkets. Besides, the caliph has promised to outfit you like a young queen. The twenty bolts of silk that Donal Righ gave him have all been allocated for your use."

"How do you know that?" Zaynab demanded of her.

"Naja told me," Oma said, "and you know he knows everything that goes on in this palace. He even knows that the lady Zahra is jealous of you. He's friends with one of the girls in the favorite wife's apartments."

"Do you think she is the one who poisoned me?" Zaynab wondered.

"Anything is possible," Oma said, shaking her head, "but I would not think so. Even though the chances of being caught are slim, if the culprit is caught, it would mean her life. I do not think the lady Zahra would endanger her position simply because she is jealous and feeling her years. Nay, it was probably someone insignificant."

They left for al-Rusafa, traveling with the caliph down the carpeted highway between Madinat al-Zahra and Cordoba. Zaynab was astounded by the size of the capital city, and begged to be allowed to see it.

"You may go with Naja and a suitable guard," Abd-al Rahman told her. "If I appear on the streets, we will be mobbed. By keeping a respectable distance from the people, I ensure their respect."

"Tell me the city's history," she begged him, and he laughed.

"Any other woman I know would want directions to the nearest marketplace so she might buy herself something. You, however, want to know Cordoba's history. Very well, my funny love, I shall tell you. It was founded by a race of people called Carthaginians, and captured by the Rumi in the days of their great empire. The next to hold sway here were the Visigoths, and we captured it from them over two hundred years ago. Over a million people live here. We have six hundred mosques, eighty schools of higher learning, and a public library with over six hundred thousand volumes. Hasdai would like a medical school built here, and eventually he will have one, for I agree with him. Now, all of our physicians have to travel to Baghdad to be trained."

"There is no such number as six hundred thousand, let alone a million," she said disbelievingly, and he laughed again.

Zaynab went out into the city with Oma and Naja, ensconced within a litter, surrounded by a suitable guard, and m.u.f.fled to her eyes. She didn't know where to look next. Everything was so exciting, so interesting, so busy! When they had arrived in Cordoba aboard Karim's s.h.i.+p, she had been transferred to a barge that transported her up the river to Madinat al-Zahra. She had had no chance to really see the larger city.

Everywhere they went, commerce flourished. The city was famous for its leatherwork, its silversmiths, and the women who did silk embroidery. There were people from all the known world walking through Cordoba's streets. The different faces and clothing fascinated Zaynab. The caliph a.s.signed fully one-third of the state budget, more than six million dinars yearly, to building and maintaining the ca.n.a.ls of the city, its irrigation systems, and its public structures, Naja informed them proudly. "Cordoba," he a.s.sured them, "is the finest city in all of the world, and it is the most prosperous."

"What do you think of the city?" the caliph asked Zaynab when they returned to the Alcazar palace that afternoon.

"It's wonderful," she told him, "but much too big a place for me to Uve in, my lord. It makes Madinat al-Zahra seem small by comparison. I have never seen so many different people!"

They traveled on to al-Rusafa the next day. Once the summer palace for the rulers of al-Andalus, it had fallen out of favor after the construction of Madinat al-Zahra. It was a very romantic place, set among wonderful gardens by the riverside. It had been built by the first Abd-al Rahman, re-created from the original al-Rusafa, which had been erected by Caliph Hisham along the banks of the Euphrates River outside of Baghdad. These gardens were irrigated by the river just as the original gardens had been. Zaynab was enchanted by it all.

She settled into a small marble house in the middle of the gardens, by a little lake that had been artificially created by the waters of the river. In the center of the lake was a wonderful summerhouse that the caliph promised Zaynab they would visit She loved her new house. It had a s.p.a.cious bright day room where they might while away the hours playing chess or singing together as she played her rebec. There was a bedchamber for her, with a bath that opened off it, two smaller chambers for Oma and Naja, and a room where Naja would prepare their meals. Zaynab clapped her hands gleefully when she saw it.

"I do not have to share any of it with anyone!" she chortled.

"Do you dislike the harem so?" he asked her, his hand smoothing her fair hair. "Do you not enjoy the company of other women?"

"My lord, if you knew how I was raised, you would understand," Zaynab explained. "Other than two female servants, my mother, my sister, and I were the only women at Ben MacDui. My mother favored my sister, and I spent more time alone than with them. Oma is the first real friend I've ever had of my own s.e.x. I am not certain that I like other women. They gossip too much and can be cruel. I am more interested in the world about me than in spending hours beautifying myself. The women in the harem are mostly an idle lot.

"My world before al-Andalus was so narrow, my lord. Here there is so much to see and to learn! I was trained to be a Love Slave, to know nothing but the giving and receiving of pleasure, but it is an unnatural life for me now that my eyes have been opened to the wonders of your world! I hope I do not disappoint you, my dear lord, for I should not like to do so." She nestled into his arms. "You are so good to me."

She is a miracle, he thought to himself, lying by her side in their bed. She had begun by being the most erotic woman he had ever known. There was still nothing he desired of her physically that she would not give him; but there was so much more to this girl-woman who was his possession. Not a day went by that he did not find himself amazed and delighted by her. That she should have come to him now in the late afternoon of his life was the pity. Had they only come together in his youth, they would have bred a race of giants!

"You will never disappoint me, Zaynab," he told her sincerely. Then he said, "I have heard of a game that Love Slaves are taught. It is called the Rose in Bondage. Did Karim al Malina school you in this entertainment, my beauty?" His deep blue eyes looked directly at her.

Zaynab nodded slowly. It was a game of unbearably sweet s.e.xual torture. She was not certain the caliph was up to such a game, despite his vigorous health. "I will play it with you only, my lord, if you allow me to direct our game. It can be dangerous, you understand. Have you played it before?"

"In my youth," he said, "and I agree to your terms."

"I shall gather what we need, then," she said, rising from the bed. "Very shortly, my lord, I shall be at your complete mercy."

He watched her through half-closed eyes as she returned to him carrying a basket containing the silver love b.a.l.l.s, four silken cords, a narrow band of white silk, a large fluffy plume, and a long, sharply pointed egret's feather. Setting the basket next to him, she lay upon the bed, spread-eagled, and smiling, said, "I am at your mercy, my lord. Once you have rendered me helpless, you may have your way with me, and I shall not be free to protest."

His eyes widened just the tiniest bit. She had never refused him anything, yet he had never felt he was in complete possession of her, body and soul. That invisible independence fretted him the way a grain of sand might fret an oyster. She was his slave, and he wanted some acknowledgment from her that he held the power of life and death over her. To his amazement, he had actually fallen in love with her, and if she did not love him, she would at least admit to his mastery of her by the time they were through. Kneeling, he drew the twisted silken cords from the basket, then firmly but gently bound her to the four corners of their bed. Making four loops, he slipped them over the short carved bedposts that decorated the dais. The four matching loops he slipped about her slender wrists and ankles.

"Struggle," he commanded her. "I want to ascertain that you are bound fast, yet comfortably, my beauty."

"Who taught you this game?" Zaynab asked him. She tested her bonds. She was quite helpless. "They are fastened well, my lord," she a.s.sured him with a small smile.

"Years ago when I was but a young prince," he told her, "a friend's father possessed a Love Slave. One day my friend and I went hunting. When we returned, I spent the night. His father loaned me the girl in a gesture of great hospitality." He looked at Zaynab's b.r.e.a.s.t.s thrusting upward, her torso tightening as she strained at the silken bonds, and grew very excited.

She watched the play of emotions across his face. How like little boys men were, but then had not Karim told her that some men enjoyed playing these sensual games? She was fortunate the caliph was not a man who enjoyed inflicting pain as some men did.

"I am going to gag you, but only for a short time," he told her. "I will soon have a better use for your mouth." Gently, he tied the silk band around her mouth. "Can you breathe properly?" he inquired solicitously, peering down at her.

Zaynab nodded. The trick to this was to remain calm, to allow yourself to trust your partner totally and completely.

The caliph reached for the pouch that held the silver love b.a.l.l.s, spilled them into his palm, and then slowly, slowly, pushed each of the perfect little orbs into her love channel. Sitting back on his heels, for some long moments he contemplated his beautiful captive. She was totally and utterly at his mercy. The realization excited him. Soon her exquisite body would ache with his delicious torture.

Zaynab was fascinated as to what he would do next. She lay very still, for movement would set the love b.a.l.l.s into motion, and she would be afire. It was really quite cruel of him to have inserted them, considering what was to come.

Reaching out, the caliph began to caress her with a single hand. His touch was very gentle as it moved in leisurely fas.h.i.+on over her body, down her silken torso. He brushed his fingers around her nipples, smiling slightly as they puckered for him like rosebuds touched by the frost. His fingers trailed slowly across her belly, causing goose b.u.mps; over her plump mont, then back up again in the crease between it and her left thigh; sliding around her hip to fondle a b.u.t.tock before moving down her leg.

She moaned through the silk gag as the love b.a.l.l.s met within her, sending a jolt of painful pleasure through her.

His eyes met hers in triumph, seeming to say, You see, you really are mine to do with as I please. Then taking one of her feet in his hands, he stroked it. "You have the loveliest feet," he commented. He kissed it, then began licking her flesh at the ankle, moving up again over her rounded knee, her shapely thigh. His tongue was now teasing at her navel, then pus.h.i.+ng his face farther up her torso, he moved into the valley between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, licking and blowing alternately.

Her body strained against the cords as he worked over her flesh, and the little silver orbs clanged silently within her, setting her afire. She moaned a second time, the sound coming in small pants.

The caliph picked up the white plume and began to stroke her with it. "Do you enjoy this, my beauty?" he murmured. The fluffy plume slid with a soft, teasing motion around her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, over her chest and shoulders, and down each arm, before sliding across her belly and down both legs in turn. Drawing the wide plume back and forth over her mont, the caliph suddenly laid it aside and pressed the heel of his palm down upon the plump flesh, smiling wickedly as Zaynab's eyes widened; she made a m.u.f.fled little noise of surprise as the pressure from his hand sent another bolt of desire racing through her.

Leaning forward, Abd-al Rahman began to suckle her nipples, each in its turn, drawing strongly upon her until she was squirming beneath him, making mewling noises from behind the gag as her arousal increased. He bit down upon the flesh, then fiercely licked the hurt away, pleased by the sound of her breathing, which had become sharper. Delving into her love channel, he withdrew the love b.a.l.l.s, but before she might recover, he settled himself comfortably between her spread legs. Taking up the pointed-tipped egret feather, he leaned forward, parting her nether lips to reveal the tiny badge of her s.e.x to his gaze. Then holding the flesh apart on either side of it, he applied the narrow tip of the feather to her little jewel, experimenting with just the right touch and frequency of movement, which he ascertained by her increasing struggles and the rasping sounds of her breathing.

Fascinated, he watched as the deep rosy inner flesh began to grow moist with a pearly dew and the tiny nub of her little jewel burgeoned with rising excitement. He moved the pointed feather relentlessly back and forth over it until Zaynab arched her body, then shuddered almost violently, collapsing weakly with her utter pleasure.

Immediately the caliph laid aside the feather and, reaching out, untied the gag about her mouth, kissing her tenderly as he did so, beginning a sweet new erotic torture. His tongue slipped between her lips, and she sucked on it hungrily while he gave her a brief moment to recover herself. Then, as his member was in great need of calming, for his labors had not simply aroused Zaynab, but his manhood as well, he moved his muscular body up to sit lightly upon her chest, presenting himself to her mouth for soothing while he reached back with one hand and began to play with her.

"Loose my hands," she said.

"Nay," he told her.

"One hand," she begged.

"You will use only your mouth and tongue, my beauty," he said sternly. "Remember that I am the master here."

She began to lick at him with slow strokes of her tongue, encircling the ruby head of his manhood even as his fingers brought her to another sweet crisis. He was driving her wild with his teasing, and Zaynab was most impressed by his skilled naughtiness, for he was obviously as facile at this game as she was. She quivered as the pleasure raced through her once again. He really had the most talented fingers, she thought muzzily.

Pulling away from her, he gazed on his captive possessively. Then he pushed his fingers into her mouth to suck upon. "Your love juices are flowing most copiously, my beauty," he murmured low, "even as I promised you that they would. I will enjoy drinking from your fountain, Zaynab. There has never been a woman like you before, and you are mine!" Then carefully he reversed his position on her body, his head between her thighs, giving her full access again to his own s.e.x.

His tongue lapped at her, teasing and torturing her almost beyond bearing. In return, however, she suckled upon his raging member, drawing her tongue slowly over his sensitive skin. Together they allowed themselves to be swept up in the raw pa.s.sion of their lovemaking. She skillfully managed his wild l.u.s.t, even while giving in to her own. Finally, when the caliph could bear no more, he reversed himself yet again, plunging deep into Zaynab, pumping her hard, reveling in the rising crescendo of her cries of pleasure.

He was bigger and harder in her than he had ever been. Zaynab could feel him throbbing insistently, hot with his insatiable hunger for her. For a moment her eyes fluttered shut as she let the incredible excitement sweep over her, enveloping her in the mindless, blind desire of the moment A Love Slave never loses control. But for a moment she flew with the birds, soaring in a rainbow of wildly spiraling emotions.

Abd-al Rahman's crisis approached and he could no longer hold himself back. All control lost, he cried out with his pleasure as his manhood pumped a torrent of his love juices into her. He collapsed atop Zaynab with a gusty sigh of relief and utter gratification.

"My lord, release me!" Zaynab managed to gasp, and to her relief he did so before succ.u.mbing to exhaustion upon her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"Wonderful!" he said. "That was absolutely wonderful. You are surely the finest Love Slave ever trained, my beauty. I prize you above all my other possessions. Allah bless the day Donal Righ found you and gave you to Karim al Malina for training. His reputation is more than justified. What a shame he will train no more women."

"I am happy that I please you, my lord," Zaynab said softly. Karim! Why was it the mere mention of his name brought back the memories of those wonderful days in Malina? Those times were gone. She knew it. He was married to another woman now. Fate had taken them in two different directions. There was no going back. She did not love Abd-al Rahman, but the caliph was a kind man, and he encouraged her desire to learn. She would not think of Karim al Malina again!

For the next few weeks Zaynab lived happily at al-Rusafa. The caliph left her during the day but returned most nights. Abd-al Rahman was a ruler who truly ruled. He did not allow the bureaucrats who peopled his government to rule for him. They did their jobs, but he did his. His grandfather had brought Slavic warriors from northern Europe to form a personal guard for the rulers of al-Andalus and their families. These men provided protection from the various court factions. The Saqalibah, as they were called, were loyal to the caliph, and to the caliph alone.

Abd-al Rahman had introduced a program of social integration into his government which allowed the newer Muslims, the Muwalladun, to partic.i.p.ate. Those were people whose ancestors had followed other faiths but who had converted over the two centuries since the first Abd-al Rahman had conquered al-Andalus. Non-Muslims were in the minority in al-Andalus, but they were also in the mainstream of society. Each faith was protected by its own religious law. Every citizen could own property, and each religion had complete jurisdiction over its own marriages, divorces, dietary laws, families, and civil affairs. They joined craft guilds and engaged in other trades.

Non-Muslims, of course, paid a poll and a land tax. They could not bear arms or propagate their own faith to others. They could not testify in the courts against a Muslim when that Muslim was legally entangled with a non-Muslim. These were not particularly onerous restrictions for the Christians and Jews to bear. All the faiths lived in peace.

The caliph's court, however, was filled with various factions. There were Muwalladun; Mozarabs, who were Arabized Christians; Jews; Berbers; and Arabs. Each faction pursued its own agenda while Abd-al Rahman navigated his way through them all, his sole purpose the good of al-Andalus. It was a difficult game he played, but his predecessor, his grandfather, Emir Abdallah, had taught him well. The caliph was a skilled player of the game of government. He was respected by Christians, Jews, and Muslims alike, and his wise counsel was sought after by foreign governments of all faiths.

As the caliph worked hard, his leisure hours were important to him. He had always enjoyed the company of beautiful and clever women, but Zaynab brought a new peace to his life, one he had never before enjoyed. She truly existed for him, and him alone. She had not allowed herself to be drawn into harem politics. So it disturbed him that someone would have attempted to harm her. She had made him happy. He wanted her to be as happy, and completely free from fear.

He gave orders for certain work to be done in the harem while she recuperated at al-Rusafa. New apartments within yet separate from the rest of the harem were created. It was to be called the Court of the Green Columns. The court itself was square. Each of its four sides was edged in a portico held up by three of the green agate columns sent the caliph from Eire. There was no roof over the court. In its center was a fountain of green marble in a frame of gilded bronze. It was ringed by twelve different creatures: on one side of the fountain a lion, an antelope, and a crocodile faced a dragon, an eagle, and a vulture; on the other side, a pigeon, a falcon, and a kite faced a duck, a hen, and a c.o.c.k. The creatures were made of pure gold, and studded with jewels. Water came forth from their mouths. The floor within the court was fas.h.i.+oned of large squares of both white and green marble.

On one side of the court a narrow door entered from the main section of the harem. On the opposite side of the court there was but a single entry into the new apartments-double doors made of ebony, banded and studded in gold. There was a gold lion's head knocker on each side of the doors, outside of which the Saqalibah would stand guard twenty-four hours a day. Green and white porcelain tubs of gardenias were set about the court to perfume it.

Within the new apartments were several s.p.a.cious rooms, including a large day room where Zaynab might entertain the caliph, a comfortable bedchamber, a kitchen, and several rooms for her servants and for storage. The apartment was lavishly decorated with rich velvets, silks, and satin. The furnis.h.i.+ngs and other fixtures were of the finest.

Naja was sent to the main slave market in Cordoba to purchase a cook. The woman, a Negress named Aida, was brought before the caliph himself and personally given his instructions. Her loyalty was to belong to Abd-al Rahman first, and his beautiful Zaynab second. Should anyone attempt to bribe her, she was to report immediately to Naja, who would so inform the caliph. She would take orders only from her mistress, the caliph, Naja, or Oma. No one else was to have authority over her. If they said they did, Aida was to report the miscreant to Naja.

The inhabitants of the caliph's harem watched the construction of the Court of the Green Columns with varying degrees of interest. To some it was no more than an interesting diversion. Many cared not at all. But Zahra was astounded by what was happening before her very eyes in the city named for her. Outrage followed astonishment. The girl was a concubine, not a wife. True, the caliph's favored women had their own apartments, but nothing like the rooms now being prepared for Zaynab. Abd-al Rahman was treating the girl like a royal bride. Had he lost his mind entirely? Or had she influenced him to supplant Zahra and the others? And if she had, what other demands would she make on the besotted caliph?

Again Tarub tried to calm her friend, and Zahra's eldest son, Hakam, was amazed by the depth of his mother's anger.

"It is wonderful that he has found love again at his age," Hakam said generously. "What is the matter with you, Mother?"

"He gives her too much, and elevates her too high," Zahra sputtered furiously. "He is behaving like an old fool. I question his sanity in this matter. Or has the girl bewitched him?"

"What he gives is his to give, and if he heaps honor upon her, it is his right to do so, Mother," Hakam replied, sounding very much like his sire. "Father's mind is sounder than it has ever been. There is no bewitchment involved, as you well know." Hakam took his mother's hand in his. "You are making yourself ill with this terrible jealousy you have for the lady Zaynab. You must cease, lest you displease my father, the caliph."

She s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand away from his gentle grasp. "Do not presume to tell me what to do, Hakam! As for your father, do you think I care what he thinks, the old satyr? Let him have his young Love Slave! Let him make her queen of al-Andalus! I will not stop hating her!"

"I cannot understand her ire," Prince Hakam said to Tarub privately. "Has the lady Zaynab offended her in some way?"

"Indeed she has," Tarub answered the prince, "but her offense is not deliberate, nor can she help it. She is young, and she is very beautiful, my lord. It was bound to happen one day that such a girl would come along to offend your mother. I am content with the pa.s.sing years. If I have grown plump with age, and childbearing, and a fondness for sweets, I accept it as my lot My kismet has been a kind one. Your father is fond of me. We share a son and two daughters. My grandchildren are many, and delight me.

"Your mother, Hakam, has always been your father's acknowledged favorite wife, his most favored woman. In her mind's eye she is still young and beautiful and desirable. When she gazes in her mirror, she has never seen herself grow older. Not until the lady Zaynab came among us in all her youthful radiance. Now Zahra must admit the truth to herself. It angers her. She must face the fact that although your father loves her, he has not visited her bed in over five years.

"You see, Hakam, the caliph is also reluctant to admit the pa.s.sing years. An exquisite young Love Slave helps him to avoid that difficult issue. We women, however, do not have such broad choices. We must either accept our fates or grow bitter with the pa.s.sage of time."

"Did my mother poison the lady Zaynab?" Hakam asked Tarub.

Tarub's warm brown eyes grew disturbed. "I honestly do not know the answer to that question, my lord," she said. "A year ago I would have said it would be very unlike her, and also most foolish. Now, however, I do not know. Your mother has not been her old self in the last several months. If it were so, I do not believe Abd-al Rahman would forgive her easily."

"You are her best friend, my lady Tarub," the prince said. "Watch over her as best you can. If you believe that she might do herself or any other harm, send to me immediately. I must protect her."

It was all they could do. In a few weeks the caliph would bring Zaynab back from al-Rusafa. It was late autumn now, and the days were not only shorter, but they were growing cooler. Al-Rusafa was a summer palace, and not at all suitable for a winter's stay. The builders worked night and day to finish the new favorite's apartments, and finally they were done.

"Tomorrow," Abd-al Rahman told Zaynab, "you will begin your journey back to Madinat al-Zahra. I have a fine surprise for you, my love, when you return. I know you will be very pleased."

"You spoil me," she replied with a smile, "but I confess to enjoying it, my dear lord. We cannot go, however, until we have visited the little summerhouse in the middle of the lake. You promised me we would see it together."

"We will go now," he told her.

"It is evening, my lord," she said. "The moon is already up."

"That is the best time to see this particular little summerhouse," he replied, taking her hand and leading her from their chamber outside to the lake, where a small boat awaited them. Helping her in, he pushed the tiny vessel into the water, and joining her, began to pole the c.o.c.kle from the sh.o.r.e out toward the center of the lake. It was not a long voyage, and within a very few minutes he was tying their boat to the railing of the summerhouse. Stepping out, he took her hand and drew her up behind him.

Inside the summerhouse. Zaynab looked about her. It was built of wood that was gilded, and its roof was a gla.s.s dome. As she looked up, the caliph s.h.i.+fted a small lever in the woodwork. Suddenly water began to rise up and over the gla.s.s dome, falling in a transparent sheath down the hemispherical roof; yet within the summerhouse they remained dry. "Ohhhh!" she cried in wonder.

"Do you like it, my love?" he asked her.

"It is wonderful!" she exclaimed Then she saw that the house was furnished with a single double couch and a small table by its side that held wine, fruit, and a softly flickering oil lamp. "You meant to bring me here tonight!" she said, clapping her hands with delight.

At that moment the moon rose over the trees, silvering the water around and above them. The caliph removed his embroidered silk caftan even as Zaynab removed hers. He drew her into his arms and kissed her tenderly. His fingers caressed her face, and she smiled radiantly at him. "You are the most beautiful woman in the world," he told her. "I will give you anything within my power to give you, Zaynab, my love. You have but to ask it of me, and it shall be yours."

"There is but one thing I long for, my lord," she answered him softly. Her little hand reached up to stroke his strong facial features.

Catching her hand in his, he turned it over and placed a burning kiss upon her palm. "Tell me, my love, and it is yours!" His gaze burned into her eyes. Their time together in the solitude of al-Rusafa had rendered him obsessed with her. What had begun in l.u.s.t for him was turning to love.

"Give me your child," she said simply.

"You would bear me a child?" His youngest sons were already five and seven. He was surprised, yet elated by her response.

"You are startled," she said with a smile. "Does my wish displease you, my dear lord?"

"Do you love me, Zaynab?" he asked her, curious.

She thought a long moment and then said, "In honesty, my lord, I do not know. Once I thought I loved a man, but my feelings for you are different from those I had for him. I do not believe, however, that I should want your child if I did not feel some tenderness toward you." She smiled almost shyly at him, laying her golden head upon his shoulder. "I must care for you, else I should be heartless."

He wrapped his arms about Zaynab in a tender embrace. His lips touched her soft hair. "I have loved you from the moment you stepped from your litter that day in the Hall of the Caliphate," he told her.