"Will you make your mother wait all the more, myyoung mistress? Come!"
This time a sharp retort flew to Leila's tongue, butMajidadisappeared into her mother's apartments before shecould utter it.
Whatever was going on?shewondered, walking through the archway. As her eyes adjusted to the dimlighting, for the lanterns had been turned down to barely a flicker, she sawEve standing in the middle of the room by a low table spread with a lightevening repast.Majidawas at her side.
"What is it, Mother?" she asked as Eve cameto meet her, taking her hand.
"Come and sit with me, Leila," her motheranswered, leading her to the far side of the table and seating her on a plumpfloor cushion facing the open archway. Eve knelt on the cushion directlyopposite her and began pouring red wine from a silver flask, offering Leila agoblet. "Drink with me, my daughter. It has been a long and trying day forus both."
Leila stared at the goblet blankly, thoroughlyconfused,thenback at her mother, who was lifting hergold-embroidered veil over her head. Tears had sprung to Eve's eyes, and a fewtrickled down her pale cheeks.
"Mother?" Leila began to rise just as sheheard footfalls directly behind her. She turned her head and saw a huge,dark-robed shape at the same moment that a wet sponge was pressed over hermouth. "Mother!" she screamed, but her cry was muffled as she inhaledsickly sweet fumes and swallowed the bitter liquid oozing past her lips. DearGod, she was being drugged! But by whom? Why?
Her frantic struggles were no match for the steely armsthat held her. Desperately she raked her fingernails across the large handholding the sponge and heard a deep male voice curse loudly. The room began toswim before her eyes, and she knew she was fast losing consciousness. Shestared wild-eyed at the fading figure of her mother, who was holding out herhands helplessly.
"I have done this for your sake, Leila. Alwaysremember how much I love you," she heard like a pleading echo in her earsas the room grew dimmer and dimmer . . . fading into blackness.
"She's out," Guy said, holding Leila'sslumped figure against his chest as he tossed the sponge in the silver bowlMajidaheld out to him. He laid Leila gently on twocushions he kicked together,thenglanced at a shakenEve while he washed his hands in a larger bowl filled with sudsy water. "Areyou all right, my lady?"
"Yes," she whispered, swallowing back hertears. Guy dried his hands and handedMajidathe damptowel. "You can still reconsider—"
"Never," Eve said, her voice growingstronger. "Never.Majida, remain by the door andcall out if you see anyone coming. Anyone . . .Suhel,Nittia,Ayhan. . . Godforbid, my husband . . ."
"Yes, my mistress."Majidafell on her knees and kissed Leila's forehead, murmuring in Arabic, "SweetLeila, dark as night. Do not forget your belovedMajida."With a heartfelt sigh, the loyal odalisque jumped up and hurried to thearchway, rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of her caftan. "The courtyard isempty, mistress."
"Come. This way," Eve said,gesturing to a brass-covered door inlaid with silver. She ran ahead, pushing itopen to reveal a flight of wooden steps. "My roof terrace."
Guy scooped Leila's limp body into his arms, marvelingthat she was so light. He strode to the door and up the stairs with Eve closebehind him. He cautiously stepped onto the corner terrace, gratefully notingthe vine-covered trellises which would hide their furtive activities fromprying eyes.
"Over here," Eve whispered, going to therounded roof ledge. "My friend is waiting below in the side alley."
As Guy peered over the ledge at the ground looming somesixteen feet below them, he was relieved to see a wagon pulled up beside thewall and a burly man in monkish garb standing on the driver's bench, his armsoutstretched. But what was that god-awful smell?
"Drop her down," Eve directed him. "Thomaswill catch her."
"Thomas?"
"My friend . . . an Englishman and a fellowChristian. You may trust him with your life." Eve lovingly touched Leila'scheek one last time, kissed her, then watched dry-eyed and silent while Guycarefully released her into Thomas's waiting arms.
"What's in the wagon?" Guy asked Eve asThomas drew back the canvas and settled Leila on the planked floor next to theseat, wrapping her in what looked like a heavy, white shroud.
"Corpses."
A chill shot through Guy, the one word explaining theoverpowering stench emanating from the wagon.
He laughed shortly and looked heavenward in disbelief.Now they had a pile of dead bodies to protect them if the soldiers drew tooclose. Perhaps their rotting friends even clutched swords in their rigidfingers!
"Trust me, my lord, you and Leila will be safe,"Eve insisted softly, as if reading his mind. "I would not wantonly risk mydaughter's life,noryours. Thomas is a friar from ourchurch inBabTouma, theChristian quarter, and one of only two such men allowed in the city. It is hisjob to transport dead Christian slaves in his wagon to the cemetery severalmiles outside the city walls."
"But what if we're stopped along the way and thewagon searched? "
"I can assure you, Lord deWarenne,no Moslem willdefilehimself by touching such acargo. Just remember to keep very still and all will be well."
Guy swallowed hard, looking from the waiting wagon toEve. "Then it is farewell, my la—" His words died on his lips at thesound of angry male shouts carrying across the silent rooftops from thedirection of the governor's prison. "I believe my absence has beendiscovered," he said dryly, his expression grim.
"You must go. There is no more time to waste,"Eve urged, her eyes shining brightly in the moonlight. She pulled a smallvelvet bag from her wide sleeve and handed it to him. "Jewels . . .emeralds, diamonds,rubies. They should see you safelyhome to England. Guard her well, my lord. I have entrusted my heart's dearestjoy to your care."
"I swear on my life that Leila will come to noharm," Guy vowed, stuffing the bag in his sash. As he quickly loweredhimself from the roof, Thomas guided his feet so he could jump down on thewagon bench.
