Page 29 of Silver Angel

Jeanne was too interested in the goings-on to have heard Chantelle’s question. It was just as well. She didn’t want an answer, to be told why it should matter to her when it didn’t and wouldn’t. Whether she was bought by a sheepherder or the Sultan himself, she was still bought, owned, a slave. No one had asked her if she accepted this role. What she felt about it was not important.

“Ah, you’d better get up,petite. I think that’s for you.”

One of the guards was coming forward with a robe and a yashmak for her to don. She did so docilely. She would save her fight for the important issues, such as if and when they tried to force her into that old man’s bed.

Jeanne stood up to embrace her in farewell, even though they had known each other only a few hours. “Good luck, my friend.”

“If you wish me luck, Jeanne, then pray I escape.”

“Ah,petite, you must give up such thoughts.”

Chantelle turned away. “When I’m dead and buried,” she mumbled to herself as she followed the guard out of the bagnio.

Chapter Sixteen

The hidden chamber was not unique by any means. One or two could be found in almost any large household in the Near East, many more than that in a royal palace. In the Dey’s palace, one could be found overlooking the audience chamber, the throne room, the schoolroom, the council chamber where the Divan met, even Jamil’s bedchamber.

As children, Derek and Jamil had often sensed eyes staring down at them from behind the fretted wooden screen high in the wall of the schoolroom, and had known that one of their parents had come to monitor their studies without disturbing the firm discipline of the class. Mustafa had often punished certain of his wives by forcing them to sit behind the screen in his bedroom while he cavorted with one or two of his other concubines. And attending a meeting of the Divan without the council members being aware of it had been a favorite pastime of many sultans.

Derek stood with one arm braced against the wooden screen that looked out over the large room where Jamil took his leisure. The concealed room was small and dark, without ornament, and extremely hot in the afternoon. Large cushions were piled on the floor to sit on, but Derek rarely used them.

Each morning he was escorted to a similar hidden chamber overlooking the throne room, where he would spend several hours watching Jamil conduct daily business having to do with the palace, disputes among his officials, matters of discipline with the servants, judgments. Even his concubines could seek audience with him there over grievances.

One morning had been spent in another like room above the audience chamber, where Jamil received foreign dignitaries and dealt with matters of the city. Usually this was done four or five days a week, but lately Jamil had cut it down to once a week, attending to only the most important business, and now was not the time to change this recent habit.

In the afternoons, Derek suffered the heat in this tiny room, learning how Jamil dealt with his personal attendants, what amused him, what annoyed him. The early evenings were spent here, too, and Jamil spared himself nothing, concealed nothing; if anything, was extreme in his reactions for Derek’s benefit. Omar, who was nearly always at Derek’s side explaining things in whispers, insisted more than once that the harshness, the occasional cruelty Derek was seeing, was not the real Jamil.

“His patience is usually unlimited, his kindness renowned. He can be ruthless when the matter is warranted, but also merciful. Even as you see him now, he is still not the tyrant Mahmud was. But what you see is the result of his self-imprisonment. He is a man who worships the outdoors. He would ride for hours each day. When he had to give that up, it was only natural for him to become short-tempered. The situation has simply gone on too long. Since you came, he might have returned to his old self, but he cannot let anyone see it except you and me. Not even his women must suspect that his frustration has nearly gone.”

Derek could understand that. He thought that he might react the same way under the same circumstances, and since he was going to be putting himself into those same circumstances, he could only hope it wouldn’t be for as long as Jamil had endured it.

To prepare for that time, day and night Derek was witness to his brother’s life without anyone being aware of it, even in the bedchamber.

Derek had at first balked at this. As children, he and Jamil might have sneaked into the hidden room to watch their father with his concubines, but that had been as a lark—exciting, dangerous. As a man, he had no desire to play the voyeur. Yet Omar insisted it was necessary for him to know how Jamil behaved toward his women, since they were a very active part of his life.

So far, he had watched Jamil make love to three of his favorites and one of his wives. Each time he was different in his behavior to show Derek the complexities of his nature—tender, forceful, abrupt, even violent. The violence had disgusted Derek, enough for him to get angry, but Omar had explained that this particular woman could not achieve pleasure without it, and so she was called for whenever Jamil needed to work off his frustrations, which had raised her to the status of favorite only recently. She had been whipped, not by Jamil, but by one of his mutes, and then Jamil had taken her brutally. And to Derek’s further disgust, she had seemed to enjoy it.

The night Jamil’s first wife, Sheelah, came to him was the only time Omar suggested Derek leave before they actually made love. He was almost sorry to go, for she was a rare beauty, with soft sapphire eyes and red hair that reminded him of Caroline. And he noticed the difference in the way Jamil treated his number onekadine. He didn’t have to be told that this woman was special to his brother.

“He loves her, doesn’t he?” Derek had asked Omar as they walked toward the chamber that had been given him for sleeping, and where in total darkness each night he had been sent a slave girl to appease the long abstinence at sea.

“He loves them all, Kasim, but yes, he isinlove with Lady Sheelah.”

“Then it was his idea that I leave?”

“No.” Omar chuckled. “Did you not notice his increased testiness today? He knew he would send for her tonight and that you would see her. He would not cut short your instruction for any reason, but he did not like it, that you would see her.”

“And I’m supposed to send for her myself later?” Derek asked incredulously. “How can I possibly, knowing how he feels about her?”

“You will have to, Kasim. He sends for her most often. He even goes to her after he has been with one of his other women. Most of them do not sleep with him, but return to the harem for the night. This is normal, because he would rather sleep with Sheelah beside him at night and does. Since you have come he has not, though. What excuse he has given her I do not know, but it would not be the truth. Even she is not to know that you are not him when you take his place.”

“So if he has prepared her to expect this change in their routine, I won’t have to sleep with her?”

“No, you will not. But you will have to summon her to you, as I said. Of course, what you do with her when you are alone is up to you.”

Derek laughed at that. “You sly old fox. Her temporary hurt feelings come second to his peace of mind, correct? Then tell him tomorrow that I won’t touch her while he’s gone.”

“No.”