Bought for the Harem

‘Is this place what I think it is?’ she asked Kasim as the man beckoned them inside.

‘I leave you here for I am not permitted beyond this door. Only the eunuchs and members of the royal family may pass here.’

‘You have brought us to the harem?’ Harriet threw an accusing look at him.

‘You will be safe here, ladies. I may see you again or I may not. It is for the Caliph to decide.’

‘Please …’ Harriet caught hold of his robes. Her hand brushed against his and she felt him flinch and withdraw. She guessed that he was finding it difficult to remain completely aloof, as he ought now that his work was done. His eyes widened, darkened, as though he had only this moment realised something. ‘I beg you, speak to the Caliph, tell him that we wish to be ransomed and will pay his price. It must be for both of us … please. I ask you as an English lady to an English gentleman.’

Kasim inclined his head. He hesitated, then took her hand and prised it from his robes, holding it for one moment before releasing it, almost as if he wished to comfort her. ‘You must go with Sulian now. Do as you are told and you will be treated fairly, but be warned. There are punishments for disobedience that you would not like. I should not wish to see you treated ill, lady.’

‘Help us …’ Harriet said as Marguerite’s arm was taken and she was drawn inside the door. ‘Please, sir. I do not think you belong here any more than we do. For pity’s sake, help us.’

‘Go with Sulian,’ Kasim said, but a little nerve flicked in his cheek and she saw indecision in his eyes—eyes that were much too blue to belong to an Arab. She could not be wrong. He was English born. He must surely have a conscience. ‘I have done my duty to my master. Forgive me, it is out of my hands now.’

Her heart sank at the words and anger replaced the fear. ‘You should be ashamed to serve a man who keeps others as slaves. You know what it is to be free. How can you accept favours from a man who is little more than a savage?’

‘Hush, woman!’ Kasim’s mouth was hard as he looked at her. ‘I think you have not been treated ill. The Caliph is a man of culture and wisdom—and he intends her great honour.’

‘But she is so young and she should be free to live as she pleases,’ Harriet pleaded, though she knew it was too late for Marguerite had already been led away. ‘Please help us.’

‘Please go now. I can do no more for you.’

Harriet saw that it was useless to plead. The eunuch was waiting, his face expressionless. She felt a wave of pity for him. He had lost so much more than his freedom; he was no longer a true man, for only through his mutilation could he be trusted to guard the ladies of the harem.

The door closed behind them with a clanging sound, which made Harriet shiver. Until this moment she had hoped against hope that their captor might relent and ransom them to their families. She had felt that somewhere inside the man with the blue eyes there was an inner core of compassion, but he had not relented. Now they were shut away in the Caliph’s harem, from which she doubted it would be possible to escape.

Marguerite looked at her uneasily. She reached out and took her hand, squeezing it as they followed the fat eunuch along a passage. There were doors to either side, which she realised led to private apartments, but he did not stop until he came to a large open room, which had fountains and benches made of stone and marble. There were flowers growing in pots and tubs and through an open door at the far end of the room, Harriet could see what looked like a beautiful garden. The eunuch was talking to a woman of perhaps forty years. Her eyes flicked towards them and she nodded several times. Finally, as the eunuch bowed to her and turned away, she lifted her hand, beckoning to them.

Harriet held tightly to Marguerite’s hand and they walked towards the woman. Her skin was olive-toned, eyes bright like a hawk’s, and she stared at them curiously for a moment before stretching out to remove the veil Marguerite had been given to cover her head. When she saw how beautiful Marguerite’s hair was she nodded and clapped her hands.

‘The lord Kasim has done well,’ she said in French. ‘The young one will do well for the Caliph’s son.’

‘What did she say?’ Marguerite asked and looked at Harriet in alarm.

‘She says that you are very beautiful,’ Harriet replied. At that moment she was pleased that her cousin had not attended her lessons in French. ‘May we know your name, please, madame?’

The woman’s eyes went to her. ‘You understand me? That is good. Some of the women do not and it makes life more difficult for them. Does the young one not understand?’

‘My cousin speaks only a few words of French, madame. If you speak slowly she may understand a little.’

‘Then I shall speak with you, wise one. You have the look of a wise woman. My name is Mellina and I am in charge of the Caliph’s harem. If you cause no trouble your life here will be pleasant, but if you are surly or disobedient the eunuch has whips that can punish without marking the skin. Our master has his favourites and seldom sends for the other women. Your purpose here will be to wait on the favourites, but your companion will not long be here if things go well.’

‘I hope that neither of us will stay here long. It is our wish to be ransomed. We have families who would pay a rich reward for our return.’

Mellina laughed mockingly. ‘No one has ever been ransomed in the time I have been here.’

‘No one? How long have you lived here?’

‘I was very young and beautiful when I first came to the palace. I pleased the Caliph’s son and he took me as one of his favourites. He is now the Caliph and he has grown sons of his own.’

Harriet felt chilled. ‘Did you have no one to rescue you?’

‘My father gave me to the Caliph as a gift in return for favours.’ Mellina shrugged. ‘My life here has been comfortable and for many years I was the favourite. Now I am in charge of the harem. I keep order here and the women respect me. Sometimes my lord sends for me just to talk. He still has some fondness for me, though others have taken my place in his bed.’

‘Does that not hurt you?’ Harriet asked.

‘It is our way. I knew my fate when I was but a child. You come from a different culture and it will be harder for you to settle to the life here, but it is useless to resist.’

‘What is she saying to you?’ Marguerite asked, pulling at Harriet’s arm. ‘I am hungry. Ask her if we can have food and water. I ate nothing earlier and now I am hungry.’

‘Madame, we have travelled a long way since leaving the ship. Marguerite could not eat because she was ill. I think she is a little better and needs something to eat and drink.’

‘Ah, yes, the little one is hungry.’ Mellina nodded and smiled. ‘Marguerite is a pretty name. I believe the Caliph’s son will be pleased with the gift his father has purchased for him.’

Harriet held back the violent protest that trembled on her tongue. How could she speak so casually of Marguerite’s life? It was not right that the Caliph could just give her to his son. She recalled that Marguerite had found the prince intimidating and her resolve hardened. She would do all she could to prevent her cousin being given to the prince. However, for the moment they had no choice but to do as they were told. Mellina seemed inclined to be friendly and it would be foolish to antagonise her.

‘Is there somewhere we can rest and eat?’

‘Come, I shall show you to your rooms. Clothes will be provided for you and you may wish to bathe to wash away the stains of travel.’ Mellina’s nose wrinkled. ‘You still have the smell of the slave market on you. I shall give you perfumes and oils. You will feel much better when you have bathed and eaten.’

‘Yes, I am sure we shall.’

Harriet took Marguerite’s arm. They followed the woman to a more secluded area where there was a bathing pool with small cubicles set round it. Two beautiful young women were washing themselves, attended by older women, who used perfumed oils and soaps to cleanse their skin and hair. In the cubicles women were lying on couches having their backs massaged with sweet oils; it was a scene of peace and contentment. They looked at the newcomers curiously. One of them rose from the water. She was completely naked and her skin was a pale gold, her waist tiny, her hips slender, though her breasts were full and round, the nipples dark as though she had borne a child. Her dark hair was wet and curled down to the small of her back. She seemed not to notice or care that she had shocked the newcomers by her nudity.

‘Who are you?’ she asked in French. Her eyes went over Harriet dismissively and then came to rest on Marguerite. She frowned, her mouth thinning in disapproval as one of the attendants placed a filmy wrap about her body. ‘What is your name?’

‘I am Harriet and my cousin’s name is Marguerite,’ Harriet replied, trying to ignore that it was still possible to see every part of the woman’s body. ‘May we know your name, madame?’

‘I am Fortunata, the Caliph’s favourite.’ Her dark eyes flashed with what Harriet sensed was jealousy. She was clearly protective of her domain. ‘Where did you come from and why are you here?’

‘We sailed from England and were on our way to meet my cousin’s fiancé,’ Harriet replied. ‘Our ship was attacked by corsairs and we were captured and taken to the slave market. It is my hope that the Caliph will allow us to be ransomed.’ Harriet’s mind worked quickly. It was possible that the Caliph’s favourite might be persuaded to help them. ‘If I could speak with the Caliph, or send a message to him, he might listen to our request.’

‘The young one is destined for the Caliph’s son,’ Mellina interrupted. ‘You have no need to fear either of them, for no one will want the other one.’

‘For the prince?’ Fortunata nodded and some of the malice faded from her eyes. ‘You both smell. I have finished here now, but my attendants will help you to bathe.’

‘You are very kind,’ Harriet replied. ‘Perhaps we could be allowed to bathe in private?’

Fortunata stared at her and then laughed. ‘I dare say you would prefer to hide your skinny bones, but the young one has nothing to hide.’

‘What is she saying?’ Marguerite asked and looked at Harriet in dismay. ‘They don’t expect us to bathe here in front of everyone?’

Harriet turned to Mellina. ‘Is there anywhere else we could wash more privately?’

Mellina’s eyes narrowed. For a moment she looked annoyed, then inclined her head. ‘You may use Katrina’s bathing pool. She is with the Caliph’s young children and will not mind. Come, it is this way …’

Harriet took Marguerite’s arm and steered her away from the bathing pool. She could feel Fortunata’s eyes boring into her back and feared they might have made an enemy of her. The Caliph’s favourite had clearly feared a rival when she first saw Marguerite, but the older woman’s words had reassured her. Harriet, of course, was no rival to any of them, but she knew that her cousin might be the target of some unkind looks if the other women were jealous of her.

Mellina took them into a secluded courtyard garden. Here there was a small pool surrounded by pillars. A marble bench was placed beside it and the smell of flowers was almost overpowering.

Mellina clapped her hands and women appeared with towels, soaps and perfume jars. It was clear that their intention was to help the two newcomers to bathe. Harriet spoke to them in the language she realised was the universal one in the harem.

‘Please leave us to manage for ourselves.’ Her request met with blank stares until Mellina issued a similar order and they disappeared into an alcove leading from the pool. Harriet looked at her cousin. ‘They think we smell and I dare say we do. I do not think we shall be fed until we have bathed—so we may as well get on with it.’

‘But there are no bathing gowns,’ Marguerite objected. ‘You will not bathe as … that woman did … without clothes?’

‘You may keep on your tunic if you wish,’ Harriet told her. ‘However, I think I shall take mine off, because it does smell and I am tired of being hot and sticky. Please turn your back until I am in the water and I shall do the same.’

‘Very well.’

As soon as Marguerite turned her back, Harriet stripped off her clothes and slid into the water. It had been slightly warmed by the hot sun and felt deliciously cool but not cold against her skin. She began to soap herself, her back towards Marguerite until she heard a little splash. Turning, she smiled at her cousin.

‘Is this not pleasant? I know my father used to swim in the lake at home. I often envied him, but this is even nicer for the water at home was usually freezing.’

‘It is pleasant.’ Marguerite took some soap and began to rub it into her body and her hair. She dipped underneath the water to rinse it and came up gasping for air. When she rose again she was smiling. ‘This is fun.’

Harriet nodded, then splashed her. Marguerite looked startled for a moment and then splashed her back. They both laughed, feeling happier as some of the tension slipped away.

When they had finished washing, they walked up the steps leading to the bench. Harriet allowed her cousin to go first, deliberately turning her back until Marguerite called that she was decent. Harriet followed and wrapped herself about. She was wondering what to do next when Mellina reappeared with some women bearing what looked like clothes of such fine soft material that it was possible to see through it.

‘You may choose which you prefer,’ Mellina said and spread the clothes out on the bench and the grass. ‘You will need the pants and the bodice for wear in the harem. If you are allowed outside the harem as a special treat for pleasing the Caliph, you will be given more suitable clothes to wear.’

Harriet gasped as she saw what she was expected to wear. Marguerite was looking quite interested and seemed to be inspecting them with a view to choosing her favourite colours.

‘Is there nothing else for me?’ Harriet asked. ‘You are wearing an overdress. May I not have something of the kind?’

Harriet looked down at the overgown that covered the trunk of Mellina’s body and was far more modest than the garments she had brought for them to see.

‘Only the older women wear these,’ Mellina told her. ‘Surely you do not wish to cover yourself? You have quite a good figure, better than I would have thought from the clothes you were wearing before—but if you wish for a tunic like mine you may have one.’

‘I should feel more comfortable,’ Harriet said. She saw that Marguerite had chosen her pants and a filmy shirt with a little embroidered jacket that finished in gilt tassels just above her waist. She was trying to work out how to put them on when a young girl came running out to help her. She was giggling and Marguerite laughed as she saw what she had been doing wrong.

Harriet smiled as she saw that her cousin seemed to have lost her terror. For the moment Marguerite was content enough, because most of the harem ladies seemed friendly. As yet she had no idea that she was destined as a gift for the Caliph’s son, and Harriet wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Surely there must be some way of reaching the Caliph? If only she could speak with him, she might be able to persuade him to ransom them to their families.

Would she see Kasim again? She had thought that just for a moment he had regretted bringing them here, that he had at last been tempted to help them. Yet why had he done so when she had begged him to help them? He had seemed sympathetic at the last, but he must be as ruthless and barbaric as his Caliph or he would never have brought them here to a life of slavery.

Kasim was deep in thought as he walked away from the harem. He did not know why it should be, but he was deeply troubled by what he had done. The look in Lady Harriet’s eyes as her cousin was led away had cut him to the heart. Had he been able he might have called her back and taken them both to their homes in England, but he had known once Prince Hassan arrived with his men that the time for such action was over.

He had tried to smother his feelings of guilt that he had not done so from the first, telling himself that he had saved the women from a terrible fate by buying them for the Caliph’s harem. Kahlid was no longer young and he hardly ever bothered to send for one of his houris. He had a favourite wife with whom he spent much of his time. It was likely that Lady Harriet would be allowed to find her own niche and never be troubled by the Caliph’s attentions. Many women were only too happy to live in the harem, especially those who had little hope of marriage in their own lands.

Kasim judged Harriet to be in her mid-to-late twenties. She was attractive, but not beautiful. Since she claimed to have a fortune of her own, she must have decided against marriage at some point. He wondered why and wished that he had taken the opportunity to ask her so many things.

He had tried to stay away from her on the ship. It was clear to him now that he had been hiding from the feelings she aroused in him, and his conscience had begun to bother him more than he cared to admit. Kasim could probably arrange a ransom for Harriet, but she had made it clear she would not leave without her cousin. Once the Caliph saw how lovely Marguerite was, he was bound to claim her for his son’s bride.

Hassan had not yet been told of his father’s wishes as far as he was concerned. He had come to meet Kasim, because he was curious about his mission and wondered what had kept him away from the palace for so many weeks. Hassan had wanted to see the women once he knew that Kasim had brought some new additions for the harem, but when told he must wait until his father permitted it, he had curbed his impatience.

‘My father usually allows me to pick from the new women,’ he said confidently. ‘Tell me, Kasim—are they beautiful?’

‘One is—one is a hellcat,’ Kasim said, though he hardly understood his motives for labelling Harriet with the title Yuri had given her.

What was he going to do about the two English women he had purchased in Algiers? Kasim frowned as he realised that their fates were no longer in his hands. He had delivered them to the harem and there it should end … unfortunately, the look in Harriet’s eyes would haunt him both waking and sleeping.

There was little he could do for her cousin, but perhaps Harriet’s fate could be resolved with a little persuasion. For the moment he must visit the Caliph for he was sure to be eager for news.

‘You have done well, Kasim.’ Caliph Kahlid bin Ossaman walked away from the small window that overlooked his chief wife’s private gardens. It was screened from the eyes of others in the presence chamber, but gave him a clear view of the bathing pool. He had enjoyed watching the two women playing in the water. It was obvious that they were both modest, for they thought themselves unobserved, which was impossible in the harem. There were spyholes everywhere so that he might watch the women without them being aware of it. The women charged with discipline, and sometimes the eunuchs also watched them, though this last was forbidden and could be punished. The English women did not know of the spyholes yet and had played innocently together. ‘I believe my son will like his gift. I shall have her prepared for him in a day or so when she has rested and become accustomed to her surroundings. If he is happy with what he sees, she will become his first wife.’

‘She has been very ill,’ Kasim said, wondering why he was embroidering the truth to a man he both liked and admired. ‘It might be as well to give her longer to settle so that she recovers her looks. Besides, she ought to be taught the faith if she is to be Hassan’s wife.’

‘Yes, what you say is true,’ Kahlid said and inclined his head. ‘I was thinking of sending Hassan to the Sultan’s court for a week or two. I believe I shall do so. The young woman will settle in after a while—but it is not necessary for her to learn everything at once. Hassan will teach her and if she is all that he requires, she may convert to the faith then.’

‘But she would not be his wife under the law unless she consented.’

‘You are a better servant of Allah than I,’ Kahlid said. ‘I shall consult with the mullah and hear what he has to say. I believe it may be enough for her to give lip service at first.’

Kasim saw that the beauty’s fate was sealed. She would be his son’s wife or his houri and it might be better if the ceremony went ahead, even if it were not a true marriage in accordance with the law. He knew that Kahlid sometimes took the law into his own hands, bending it to suit his wishes, and to argue would only anger him.

‘The older woman … I bought her because you spoke of needing a teacher for the children. The lady Katrina is sometimes unwell now that she is with child herself, and it might ease her if she did not have so many duties in the nursery.’

‘This woman is thinner than I like in a houri,’ Kahlid said, ‘though attractive in her way; her hair is an interesting shade. Is she intelligent? Would she be able to teach my children to speak English?’

‘Yes, my lord. I am certain she would be more than capable. I believe she speaks French as well as a few words of Arabic.’

‘She has studied extensively?’ Kahlid looked thoughtful as Kasim nodded. ‘Very well. For the moment I shall leave her in your hands, Kasim. She is not beautiful enough to interest me, but she may serve as a teacher. She will be of the harem and yet not of the harem. You may send for her tomorrow and take her to the children. You will observe her, and you may order her life as you see fit for the moment. I may watch from behind the screens. If she does well, she shall take Katrina’s place as the children’s teacher, at least until my wife gives me another son.’

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