The Pirate Prince (17 page)

“Thank you,” Willow whispered. “I am deeply grateful for what you are doing to gain me time. I cannot bear the thought of being summoned to Ibrahim’s bed.” Deep in thought, she chewed on her bottom lip. “Perhaps I can develop a fever later, and who knows what else I can come up with? My greatest fear is that Dariq will not survive this rescue attempt.”

“My prince is well aware of the danger,” Ali Hara said in parting.

Hetice arrived a short time later with the cloths. “So,” she said, eyeing Willow with suspicion, “your courses have finally arrived. Lady Umma hoped you were carrying Prince Dariq’s child. My lady Umma wishes to be the first to bear Ibrahim a son.”

“I want naught to do with Ibrahim,” Willow said. “I would be eternally grateful if you could keep me out of his bed.”

Hetice, a haughty woman of middle years, had taken charge of the harem after Saliha Sultana left, and she had her favorites. Willow was not one of them.

“You are a stupid woman,” Hetice said, “Are you not aware of the power you would wield and the gifts you would receive as the mother of Ibrahim’s son? To conceive Ibrahim’s heir is the dearest wish of every woman in the harem.”

“ ’Tis not mine,” Willow declared. “Leave me—I wish to be alone.”

Hetice tossed a pile of cloths upon the narrow bed. “Ali Hara said you had need of these. Rest assured that I will inform Ibrahim of this new development.”

“Good,” Willow muttered.

Hetice stared at Willow for the span of a heartbeat, then turned on her heel and departed.

Dariq’s ship lay at anchor in a secluded cove, invisible to all who did not know of its existence. Dariq had discovered the cove during his exile and had allies living in a nearby village. After disembarking, the first thing he did was to dispatch a sailor to the village to secure three horses, for himself, Mustafa and the sailor, whom he intended to send to Istanbul with a message for Kamel via his cousin Hassan.

The sailor returned with the horses, then mounted one and left immediately for Istanbul. Dariq and Mustafa left soon afterward and were welcomed by Yusuf, a horse trader and ally of Dariq’s, who lived with his wife in the village.

“ ’Tis a long time, my lord Prince,” Yusuf said, making his obeisance. “Please enter my humble abode; Farah has prepared a meal for you and your lieutenant.”

Dariq and Mustafa bent beneath the low portal and entered the two-room hut, fragrant with cooking smells. Yusuf seated Dariq with a flourish, and Farah, her face flushed with pleasure, served the well-seasoned meal of chicken, rice, dates, figs and a sticky-sweet desert that earned a flurry of compliments.

Once Farah left the room, the conversation turned serious.

“Have you heard aught of a woman with golden hair that Ibrahim has added to his harem? Her name is Willow,” Dariq said.

“Aye, who has not? ’Tis said that Ibrahim hopes for an heir from her. None of his concubines has quickened with child.”

Dariq swallowed a groan. The thought of Ibrahim’s hands on Willow nearly brought him to his knees. He
shook his head to clear it of painful thoughts and said, “Perhaps the fault lies with Ibrahim.”

Yusuf grinned. “So it is said. But there are rumors that Lady Umma wishes to be the first to bear Ibrahim a son, and has taken steps to ensure that she is.”

“Have you heard aught of Willow’s well-being?”

“We do not get much news here, but I have heard naught to suggest she is not well. Ibrahim is much involved with other matters right now. His army is being driven from Poland, and he fears his empire is in danger of collapsing.”

Dariq’s relief was palpable. Perhaps Willow had escaped Ibrahim’s attention.

“I need to get inside the seraglio,” he said urgently.

“Why do you wish to expose yourself to danger, my lord Prince?” Yusuf asked.

“Ibrahim has my woman, and I want her back.”

“The golden-haired woman belongs to you? Allah help you. What you plan involves great risk.”

“I understand the risk, but it matters not. I know you are allowed to pass through the gates into the courtyard to sell and trade your horses, for I’ve seen you there many times in the past.”

“Aye, ’tis true enough,” Yusuf allowed. “What can I do to help you?”

“When do you plan another trip to the city?”

Yusuf stroked his beard. “Tomorrow or the day after. I have some prime horseflesh to sell.”

“Excellent!” Dariq eyed Mustafa speculatively. “Mustafa can travel with you, for if he were seen with me, we might be recognized. I shall depart a day before you and Mustafa, and go directly to Hassan the carpet trader’s stall. I will ask him to bring Kamel to me.”

“What are your intentions, Prince?” Mustafa asked. “You do not plan to enter the seraglio alone, do you? ’Twould be suicide.”

“I will make plans after I speak with Kamel. If there is a way to see Willow, I will find it.” His chin rose defiantly. “I
will
rescue Willow, Mustafa, or die trying.”

“Do not treat death so lightly, my lord, for the end result is permanent.”

“I know, but give me some credit. I am not a careless man.”

Mustafa snorted. “When one is in love, one tends to think irrationally.”

When Dariq sent him a warning look, Mustafa quickly dropped the subject.

Dariq returned his attention to Yusuf. “Can you bring horses to Istanbul for me, Mustafa and my lady? And Mustafa and I will need clothing to disguise us as humble farmers.”

The clothing that Yusuf provided Dariq and Mustafa met with their approval. Dressed in drab robes and dingy turbans, the two were unrecognizable as a prince and his lieutenant.

Dariq left the following morning after a satisfying breakfast, carrying food that Farah had prepared for him to consume along the way. Mustafa and Yusuf were to follow the next day and meet Dariq at Hassan’s stall in the souk.

Dariq entered the city without being recognized and rode through the winding streets of the market, where the stalls were just closing for the day. Dariq lowered his head when a patrol of janizaries marched past him, and he remained watchful as he plodded on. Being recognized now would be disastrous.

The relentless sun was sinking and the marketplace emptying of people. Dariq sniffed appreciatively of the rich odors of spices, ripe fruit, and the pungent scent of freshly killed and drawn animals.

When Dariq bought a meat-filled pita and ate it while he wandered past stalls displaying glittering jewels, colorful silks and other merchandise arranged to catch the eye of a shopper. When he found the carpet trader’s stall, he waited until Hassan’s last customer wandered off.

Hassan turned to him with a smile. “How may I help you, my good man?”

“ ’Tis I, Hassan—Prince Dariq.”

Hassan’s eyes widened, and he started to make an obeisance, until Dariq stopped him with a look.

“ ’Tis dangerous for you here,” Hassan whispered. “Wait for me in the back room while I close my shop. We can talk in private there. You know the way.”

Dariq did indeed know the way. He had visited Hassan on those occasions when he traveled incognito to Istanbul to seek news of his mother.

A few minutes later, both men were seated at a low table, sipping tea. Hassan waited for Dariq to speak, his eyes narrowed with curiosity.

“Can you arrange a meeting with Kamel?” Dariq asked.

“Aye, my lord. I will go to the seraglio immediately and seek an audience with my cousin. Shall he meet you here?”

“Aye. I wish to know more about the conditions at the seraglio.”

“I heard that Ibrahim released your mother. Several witnesses in the seraglio reported that Saliha Sultana was exchanged for a slave girl.” He sighed. “I wish I could have seen her. ’Tis rumored she has hair like spun gold.”

Dariq’s fists tightened at his sides. “Aye, everything about Lady Willow is pure gold. And she is mine. Bring Kamel to me, Hassan; that is all I ask of you.”

Hassan rose, bowed and slipped out the door.

Chapter Sixteen

Dariq waited over an hour for Kamel. The eunuch ducked into the rear of his cousin’s stall and made his obeisance before the prince. With an impatient gesture, Dariq invited the harem master, whom he counted as his friend, to sit down.

“How is she?” Dariq asked without preamble.

“If you are referring to Lady Willow, she is well,” Kamel replied.

“Has Ibrahim—”

“The sultan is occupied with matters of state these days. His empire is falling apart, and he meets with his advisers far into the night. He has little time for his women.”

“I want Willow out of the harem before he remembers her and summons her to his bed.”

“That task will not prove easy, my lord Prince. The harem is well guarded, if you recall, and the seraglio guards are loyal to Ibrahim.”

“I am most desperate to see and speak to Willow. I
want her to know she is not alone, that I am nearby.”

Kamel smiled. “Your lady already knows you are in Istanbul and has asked that a message be delivered to you. She said to tell you not to attempt anything foolish. She fears for your life.”

“And I don’t want her in Ibrahim’s bed,” Dariq spat from between clenched teeth. “Can you think of a way I can see Willow without being discovered?”

“What you ask will not be easy to accomplish,” Kamel replied. “Lady Willow has not been welcomed by Ibrahim’s concubines. Fearing poison, Ali Hara and I watch everything she eats and drinks closely. The women fear your lady will be the first to bear Ibrahim a child, and they will go to any lengths to prevent it.”

“But you said Ibrahim hasn’t bedded Willow.”

“True, but her time will come. I can only do so much to keep her out of the sultan’s bed.”

Dariq’s hands clenched at his sides. “We cannot let that happen.”

“You must be very careful. There is a princely reward on your head.”

“I would risk anything to see Willow. She needs to know that I will not abandon her. Mustafa should arrive in the city tomorrow with Yusuf, the horse trader. We will combine our efforts and come up with a plan to rescue Willow. I am not leaving the city without her. If all else fails, I will offer myself to Ibrahim in exchange for her freedom. ’Tis me he wants anyway.”

“I can see you are determined in this,” Kamel sighed. “You always were a stubborn man, my lord. I advise you to be patient and act prudently. These things take time to arrange.”

“We have no time. We must act swiftly, before Ibrahim summons Willow to his bed.”

“I will do what I can,” the eunuch promised. He tapped his chin. “Your old apartment is still unoccupied. It is so remote from the main part of the seraglio that no one has claimed it.”

“Aye, the remoteness was the reason I chose those rooms in the first place.”

“If you can reach your chambers without being seen, I will arrange to bring Lady Willow to you by way of the secret staircase.”

“Mustafa saved my life by carrying me over the rooftops, though I recall little of it,” Dariq mused. “It shouldn’t be difficult to return the same way during the darkest part of night.”

“If all goes well, I will bring Lady Willow to you in your apartments as soon as it can be arranged.”

“I am grateful for whatever you can do, Kamel. Both you and Ali Hara are welcome to return with us to Lipsi, if that is your wish.”

Kamel laughed. “I always did fancy becoming a pirate. Now I must go. I will meet you here two days hence.”

“I will be here.”

Dariq found lodging at a cheap inn near the souk. He was so exhausted he fell asleep immediately after eating a simple supper in the common room. He returned to Hassan’s stall in the souk near dusk the next day to await Mustafa. The market was just closing for the day when Hassan ushered Mustafa behind the curtain. Mustafa dropped cross-legged to the floor and gratefully accepted a cup of tea.

After he quenched his thirst, he asked, “Have you learned anything?”

“I spoke with Kamel,” Dariq said “Ibrahim is concerned about his losses in Poland. Kamel said he has had scant time to devote to his concubines. For the moment,
Willow is well, but those in the harem are jealous of her. And you know what that means.”

“Aye,” Mustafa allowed. “Now that you know there is little you can do about Lady Willow’s situation, perhaps we should leave.”

Dariq bristled. “Never! Kamel is arranging a meeting between me and Willow in my old apartment. It’s been unoccupied since I left.”

“ ’Tis madness. I hope you are not overly fond of your head. Kamel is not a miracle worker; he cannot save you if you are captured.”

“Naught you say will dissuade me, Mustafa.”

“So be it. What do you want me to do?”

“Position yourself at the seraglio gates and keep your eyes and ears open. I’ve taken a room at the Inn of Seven Veils. You can contact me there if you think there is anything I should be aware of. In two days, Kamel will let me know if our plans have a chance of succeeding.”

Mustafa shook his head. “What do you hope to gain by meeting in secret with Willow? No woman has ever escaped the harem. You are both doomed. ’Twould be best to let her settle into her new life while you go on with yours.”

“I did not ask your opinion, Mustafa,” Dariq growled. “Find Yusuf and tell him to have swift mounts ready for us.”

Two days later, Kamel returned to Hassan’s stall. Dariq could hardly contain his excitement as he waited for the other man to speak.

“Allah be praised,” Kamel began in a hushed voice. “Ibrahim is to meet with his generals and advisers this very night. The meeting should last into the small hours. If you wish to see Lady Willow, it must be tonight. The
royal astrologer has predicted an overcast sky with limited moonlight.”

Dariq’s heart nearly burst from his chest. “Can you sneak Willow into my old apartment?”

“Aye, everyone should be asleep when I lead her to the private staircase. Can you reach your chambers without being seen or challenged, my lord Prince?”

“Of course,” Dariq said confidently. “When should I expect her?”

“At the hour of midnight I will bring your lady to you.”

“Thank you, Kamel. You have done me a great service, one I will not forget.”

After Kamel departed, Dariq set out to locate Mustafa and Yusuf. He found them both near the seraglio gates. Mustafa was leaning against a section of the wall, and Yusuf was haggling with a potential buyer of one of his horses.

Keeping his head down as he passed a janizary, Dariq spoke softly to Mustafa in passing. “Meet me at the Kasbah Coffeehouse in one hour.”

He spoke the same words to Yusuf when he accidentally bumped into him; then he went directly to the coffeehouse and sat at a table partially obscured by shadows. Mustafa and Yusuf arrived separately one hour later.

“Everything is falling into place,” Dariq said in a hushed voice. “I am to meet with Willow tonight. Kamel promised to bring her to my old apartment at midnight.”

“The only way you won’t be seen is by going over the rooftops,” Mustafa said. “I will go with you.”

“Nay, you will not. I will do this alone. After I have spoken with Willow, I will fix a time for her rescue. Then, Mustafa, you and I will assist Willow over the rooftops to where Yusuf waits with the horses. A fast escape to the
Revenge
is imperative. With luck, Willow won’t be missed until morning.”

Mustafa remained skeptical. “Too many things can go wrong, I like it not. How do you know Ibrahim won’t summon Lady Willow to his bed tonight?”

“Then I pray that Willow, Kamel and Ali Hara will thwart Ibrahim. They have been successful thus far.”

“You shall have my finest horses,” Yusuf vowed.

Their meeting broke up soon afterward. Dariq immediately returned to the inn to prepare for his meeting with Willow. Anticipation throbbed through him. The thought of seeing Willow again made his heart thump in his chest and his blood run hot. How would he be able to leave her after their reunion tonight? It would be like leaving a part of him behind. Invisible links had been forged between them by the intense passion they shared.

Without Willow, Dariq felt like a man with half a heart. Since she left him, he had become obsessed, vowing that once she was back where she belonged, he would never let her go. If that was love, then so be it.

Dariq prepared carefully for his trek across the rooftops. Dressed in loose dark clothing and sturdy boots, he waited until an hour before midnight to leave the inn. Unbeknownst to Dariq, Mustafa detached himself from the shadows outside the inn and followed close behind.

Dariq wended his way through the narrow streets of the deserted souk, his body tense, his senses alert. At one point, he was forced to duck into an alley to avoid a night patrol. When he reached the high walls of the seraglio, he searched until he found a place where he could grasp an overhanging roof and pull himself up.

His silhouette a dark blot against an inky sky, he leapt
from rooftop to rooftop, his steps sure and determined as he made his way to his former apartment. Nothing was going to stop him now. Willow was as essential to him as the air in his lungs and the blood flowing through his veins. She was his heart and soul.

Willow felt threatened despite Kamel’s and Ali Hara’s careful scrutiny of her food and drink. Things had taken an unwelcome turn today when Ibrahim had entered the harem. She could still feel his dark eyes scorching her skin as he conversed with Hetice. Willow knew they were talking about her, and realized it would be only a matter of time before he summoned her to his bed.

But it wouldn’t be tonight. Ali Hara told her that Ibrahim was meeting with his advisers today and the meeting would go on far into the night.

So she was granted another day of reprieve, but then what? Perhaps she could pretend to be ill with a mysterious disease. It wouldn’t be a stretch of the imagination to picture herself vomiting on Ibrahim when he attempted to bed her.

Willow tried not to show fear when Umma sidled up to her and said, “You will not live to go to him. I will be the first to bear our master an heir.”

“The honor is all yours,” Willow replied. “If you want my opinion, the sultan is incapable of producing children. A man with beautiful concubines at his disposal should have many heirs, yet he has none.”

Though many of his subjects were of the same mind, to make such a declaration openly was tantamount to treason. Umma began to screech like a banshee, shouting “Treason, treason!”

Hetice and Kamel came running.

“What is going on here?” Hetice asked, pointing her finger at Willow. “What have you done to Lady Umma?”

“You must summon the sultan at once!” Umma cried. “The Englishwoman speaks treason against him.”

“I said naught more than what is being whispered all over the souk,” Willow replied.

Kamel sent Willow a warning look. “What did Lady Willow say?”

Umma repeated Willow’s words. Hetice appeared shocked, but Kamel merely rolled his eyes. “Do not concern yourself with this, Hetice, for Lady Willow is right. Ibrahim’s childless state is discussed in all the coffeehouses.” He sent Hetice an inscrutable look. “Some say Ibrahim’s concubines are being fed a drug to keep them from conceiving.”

Hetice grew sullen. “Ibrahim should know of this.”

Kamel sent her a stern look. “You will say naught. This is my domain, and I rule it as I see fit. No harm has been done.”

The women dropped the subject, albeit reluctantly, beneath Kamel’s uncompromising glare. But Willow could feel their hatred for her. She never should have spoken her mind. How was she to survive in an environment where all the women were hostile toward her? She stiffened her shoulders and firmed her resolve. She had never lacked for courage. She would survive, no matter what it took. And she hadn’t entirely given up hope that her father would trace her to Istanbul and demand her release.

Of more concern was the knowledge that Dariq was in Istanbul. What madness had possessed him? What did he expect to accomplish? The harem was impenetrable and the seraglio well guarded. Kamel could only do so much
for her. She hoped Kamel had given her message to Dariq and he had left the city.

Kamel disappeared later that day, so Willow did not see him again before she retired for the night. She couldn’t, however, shake the feeling of anticipation—or was it dread?—that had dogged her all day. The feeling only increased when Ali Hara bade her good night that evening.

When Willow finally fell asleep, she slept hard and deep. She awoke in the dead of night, startled to hear someone call her name. She thought she was dreaming and turned over to go back to sleep. The urgency of the voice and a hand shaking her awake finally forced her to open her eyes.

“Wake up, my lady,” Kamel whispered. “ ’Tis time to leave.”

Willow jerked awake. “Leave? Where am I going?”
Dear God, please don’t let it be a summons from Ibrahim
.

“I will tell you later, there is no time now. I couldn’t explain earlier, for I was called away from the seraglio. Put this on.” He handed her a dark blue caftan.

“Ibrahim hasn’t summoned me, has he?”

“Nay. Hurry.”

Willow slipped the caftan over her night shift and slid her feet into a pair of slippers. Before she could ask more questions, Kamel was hurrying her out the door into the dark corridor.

“Kamel—”

“Shhh, do not speak. You will have answers soon.”

Willow followed Kamel into the corridor and to the main room of the harem. She watched curiously as he went directly to a blank wall, felt along a piece of molding, and lo and behold, a panel opened to his touch, revealing a narrow staircase.

“Into the passage,” Kamel urged. “Mount the stairs; I will be right behind you.”

It was so dark Willow could see little beyond the end of her nose. Kamel pushed her toward the first step, and she felt her way to the top, clinging to the wall to guide her. It seemed forever before she came to a stop before another wall. Kamel pressed somewhere on the wall, and another panel slid open.

Light from a single candle danced amid the shadows of a spacious, apparently deserted chamber. At one time the rooms must have been handsome, but now they seemed sadly neglected. Willow felt the air stir as Kamel brushed past her.