Devil's Daughter (30 page)

“What is it?” Arabella pushed herself upright, her eyes upon Lella’s astonished face.

“The baby. I think my time has come.”

Arabella made to rise.

“Lie still. I will have the midwife fetched. You will stay here and pray that I bear a son.”

Lella rose awkwardly while Arabella watched her
helplessly. Arabella forced herself to relax against the soft pillows after Lella left her. She prayed and she thought. Occasionally she could hear Lella’s screams. Would it be her own screams she heard in the future? Her own screams to bring forth Kamal’s child? She didn’t want to think about him. He’d had her beaten. He was her enemy; he had to be her enemy. As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, she felt only a tightness in her back. She had refused Raj’s drug that morning, preferring a clear head to the vagueness that had woven haunting dreams. The remembered dreams became vivid to her now, and suddenly she realized that in them her father had spoken to her, had calmed her and stroked her.

It had been Kamal.

“No.” She heard footsteps nearing her chamber and quickly lay again on her back and closed her eyes.

“Lady Arabella?”

“Raj,” she said. “How is Lella?”

“She is fine.”

“I have heard her screams.”

“Birthing is a painful process. It will be many hours yet. I have brought you food and a special drink.”

She didn’t want the drink but it was better to play docile and drowsy. Better to pretend. Lella was giving birth; surely there would be excitement and perhaps carelessness. Perhaps she would be able to slip away. Freedom.

Arabella saw that she was right as the afternoon dragged on. Raj was with Lella, and most of the harem girls talked in small clusters near Lella’s chambers. She dressed in a loose silk robe, pulled on blue leather
slippers, brushed the tangles from her hair, and tied it back with a bit of ribbon.

She walked slowly about the gardens, her eyes straying to the high walls and the double gates. There was a tall willow tree whose branches fell over the side of the far wall. Arabella stared at it, not for its beauty, but for its potential as a means of escape. Slowly she began to smile. Did the ridiculous men believe the girls in the harem too weak to climb a tree and escape? There was likely a guard on the other side of the wall, but to Arabella that was just as she wished it. She had no illusions about a woman escaping from Oran, but a man would have a chance.

She realized she had no money. But Raj must have money—that, or jewels—in his chambers.

Arabella heard another scream. Oh, Lella, please be all right. You are my only friend here. She wanted to go to Lella, but she knew Raj expected her to be asleep from the drug he had given her. Slowly she made her way back to her chamber, there to pace and plan and worry about Lella.

It was near to nine o’clock at night. There was but a sliver of moon in the sky as Arabella left her chamber. Everyone was still with Lella, including Lena, who had brought Arabella her supper and then left her, telling her not to worry, that Lella was holding her own and the babe would be birthed soon.

It had been child’s play, Arabella thought, a grim smile on her face, to steal a small bag of gold coins from Raj’s chambers. She fastened the leather pouch at her waist and patted her braided hair, wound tightly about her head.

She slipped through the garden like a silent shadow and made her way to the willow tree. Ah, Lella, she thought as she carefully climbed among the branches, you have given me my chance for freedom. She smiled, thinking about the wadded clothes and pillows she had formed in her shape on the bed. With any luck at all, no one would know she had escaped until morning.

Arabella paused at the top of the wall, staring over the side. There was one man patrolling the perimeter, and he looked anything but alert. She sent another silent plea heavenward, holding herself perfectly still until the guard was at least twenty yards away from her. She studied the rocky ground below, then wriggled down on the wall until her feet were dangling. She let go and landed lightly on the ground. There was no sound from the guard. She quickly selected a rock and drew back against the wall, waiting for the guard to come.

He was a young man, and not overly large, and he was whistling a lighthearted tune. Well, I am sorry, she told him silently, but you are going to have a great headache.

He saw her in the same instant the rock was slamming toward his head. He grunted in astonishment, then crumpled to the rocky ground.

Arabella paused but an instant before pulling off his clothes. He was wearing a flowing burnoose over his uniform, none too clean, but of great value to Arabella, for it would hide her hair and every unmasculine curve of her body. Once in his clothes, she straightened over him and softly cursed. She had nothing with which to bind him. She shrugged because there was no hope for it, and dragged him into the shadow of the wall.

“Sleep a long time,” she said, then turned and began to make her way down the treacherous slope toward Oran and the harbor.

“Highness, your sister-in-law has given birth to a son.”

Kamal was alert immediately, a wide smile on his face. “Excellent, Ali. Is Lella all right?”

“Yes, highness. It is after midnight—do you still wish to see her?”

“Indeed, just for a moment.”

Kamal dressed quickly and made his way to the harem, Ali at his heels. He found Lella looking pale and exhausted, her son bundled in her arms.

“Well, my sister”—he smiled down at her—“you have given Hamil a son, and me a nephew.”

“He is perfect, Kamal, and the image of his father.”

“I would have expected no less of you, Lella.” He sat beside her and pulled back the linen cover from his nephew’s face. “Ah, he does not have all his father’s beauty, praise Allah.”

Lella’s smile suddenly saddened and tears formed in her eyes. She turned her face away, but Kamal gently touched his fingers to her jaw. “I understand, Lella. I loved him too, you know.”

“Yes, I know. Kamal, why did it happen? He was as much at home on a ship as on land. How could he have fallen overboard?”

He held her and her son, his own pain heavy while her tears fell on his neck. “Sometimes,” he said, “I think we are here to play the fool for some force that we do not understand. There is no escape from our
own miseries. All is duty, honor to rules that we did not make. All is acceptance.”

“Must you give her up, Kamal?”

His arms tightened about her, then eased. Gently he lowered her onto her pillow and straightened. He looked tired and beaten.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Do not be, Lella.” He gazed about her chamber. “Can you honestly see Arabella content in my harem? She would tear it apart stone by stone, and me with it. You are tired, sweet sister. Sleep now. I will see you and my perfect nephew in the morning.”

He kissed her gently on her pale cheek, then rose. “It is nearly mid—” His voice broke off at the loud shouts coming from outside.

“What the devil?”

Raj, his face drawn and shaking from exertion, rushed into the chamber. “Highness. She is gone. The guard on the eastern wall was found unconscious, stripped of his clothes.”

Kamal felt his blood run cold. He heard a muffled shriek from Lella, but didn’t turn his eyes from Raj. Very calmly he said, “Bring me the guard, quickly.”

He was in Arabella’s chamber, the bundle of clothes she had formed beneath the covers in his hands, when the guard, clothed only in a loincloth, stumbled before him.

His first thought was that with a man’s clothes she would have some protection. “Tell me what happened,” he said.

“I seek a ship bound for Genoa.” Arabella said the words again and again, trying to lower her voice to the
gruffness of a man’s. Sweat beaded on her forehead, from fear and exertion. The perilous climb down the steep hill from the palace to the city had left her aching and her breath short.

The city looked ghostly under the sliver of moon, and the eerie silence made her heart pound so loud she feared discovery at any moment. She winced with each step she took, for the guard’s boots were too large and had rubbed her heels raw.

The closer she came to the harbor, the more her fear grew. An unarmed man alone would as easily be the victim of robbers as would a woman. She clung to the shadows, refusing to give in to her fear.

The shadows became men—pirates or simple fisher-men, Arabella didn’t know. She heard them laughing and talking in Arabic. She walked on toward a three-masted ship, her head down, concentrating on nothing more than her next step.

Almost there. She heard men call out to her, but she only shook her head, as if she were on an errand of grave importance. She heard a group of men closing behind her but she was too afraid to turn to face them. She waved toward the ship. A deep voice that came out of a nightmare rang out behind her, in fluent Italian.

“Hey, you there, hold. What do you want with my ship?”

It was Captain Risan.

She closed her eyes against his voice.
Run, escape.
She lunged away from the dock, back toward the narrow, dark streets. She heard his voice again, raised high, cursing her. The boots dragged up and down over her heels, slowing her and making her grit her
teeth in pain. Her back hurt so badly she wanted to howl, but she didn’t have the breath to do it.

He was so close she could hear him breathing. She felt a hand come down on her shoulder, and reeled. She turned, her hand balled into a fist, and struck out at him. He growled in fury, and shoved her, hooking his booted foot behind her legs. Arabella sprawled to her back in the dirt, Risan slamming down over her. She struggled, hitting his face, but he grabbed her wrists and pulled them down against her belly.

She saw his fist above her face, and closed her eyes against the pain, but nothing happened.

“By the beard of the Prophet,” he said. “It’s a boy.”

She looked at his surprised face. “Let me go,” she said low, trying to heave him off her. “I mean you no harm. I did nothing.”

Four men were standing over her, laughing and pointing. She couldn’t understand what they were saying. She twisted suddenly, but it only brought Risan forward, his face but inches above her own.

She heard a sharp intake of breath. She dredged up the foulest language she had ever heard and yelled it in his face.

He stiffened, his eyes never leaving her face. Suddenly his dark eyes glistened. Slowly he lowered his hand to her breast.

“By Allah, I don’t believe this.” He ripped the burnoose from her head.

“Please,” she whispered, her eyes fastened upon Risan’s face, unaware of the stunned silence around them. “Let me go.”

“It is you,” he said. “And I believed you ugly as a camel wallowing in a dung heap.” He eased off her,
clasped her wrists more tightly, and pulled her to her feet. He had no fear that she would escape, for his men surrounded her. He grinned, his white teeth flashing in the near-darkness, and gave her a deep bow. “Lady Arabella,” he said, laughter in his voice. “Were you seeking me, my lady, or are you a gift from Allah?”

“I have money. Please, captain, you must help me get away from here. I will pay you well. I must return to Genoa. At least show me a ship bound for Italy, please.”

Risan motioned to one of the men and spoke a few sharp words. Arabella felt her arms pulled behind her back. She stilled. She shrank back against the man as Risan reached his hand to her hair. The man thrust his hips against her, laughing as he did so.

“Hold still, my lady,” Risan said, “else you will inflame my men.” She felt his fingers touch her hair, then slowly begin to unwind the thick braid around her head. “Please, don’t.”

“If only I had known,” he said, as if to himself, “I might not have sailed so quickly to Oran.” He lifted a mass of hair and brought it to his face. She watched him rub it against his cheek. “I do not think I want to know how you managed to escape my half-brother. I will even pretend that I do not notice you are wearing the uniform of his guards.”

“You will help me?”

“Let us say,
cara,
that I will not be so careless with you as my brother was. After I have my fill of you, perhaps I will free you, perhaps I will return you to Kamal. You will be one of the few women to have knowledge of both of us.”

“No.”
She felt Risan’s hand touch her face and she
forgot everything. She kicked out at him in fury and drove her elbows into the stomach of the man who held her. She heard a grunt of pain but the man didn’t loose his hold. She saw Risan’s face contort. “I should take you right here, in the dirt and filth, with my men holding you down.” Suddenly he whirled about. Arabella raised dazed eyes. A half-dozen men on horseback were bearing down on them, Kamal at their head. Her heart leapt at the sight of him. He looked otherworldly in the dark night, his white burnoose flowing out behind him.

Kamal leapt off his stallion’s back, relief flooding through him at the sight of Arabella.

“I believe you lost something, brother,” Risan said, bowing deeply.

“Release her,” Kamal said in a flat cold voice. She was staring at him, her hair tangled about her pale face, her eyes wide.