The Sheik and the Slave (24 page)

"Whore!" he yelled.

When she tried to get up, he kicked her hard again and
watched as she fell against a wooden chair. When she tried to get up, she felt
something gushing between her legs. The floor was slippery and red.
A red
floor? What does that mean?
she wondered. Then, she realized what was
happening.

"My baby," she cried before she fainted.

He watched the woman on the floor as the blood poured from
her.

He knew he had to get rid of her. He had to place her where
no one would ever find her.

***

The Mother Superior was busy with her books when a knock
came on the door.

"Mother Superior. Please come quickly. We need
you!" cried the voice of a novice.

Abigail finished the last column of numbers and shook her
head. The butcher was over-charging them. She must speak to him about that.

She rose slowly. Her bones ached; she was not as young as
she once was. When she had first come to the Abbey, she had been young,
idealistic, and full of hope. Now she was just an old woman.

The young novice directed her to the front gates of the
Abbey where the novice, Abigail, opened the door.

"Oh, Lord in Heaven," she gasped as she saw the
young woman wrapped in a rough blanket with blood between her legs.

"Quick! Quick! Bring here in," she told the two
young novices.

Chapter
16

"Lord Fairfax, I have come here to settle a matter of
the utmost importance," Mohammed spoke honestly as he followed Edward into
the sitting room.

The sitting room was decorated in pastel blue and silver and
was elegant, yet understated.

"Sir, this is a most regrettable time.
”
Edward replied.
“
Can we speak of the
matter at another time?"

Edward seemed pale and shaken; he had not even made eye
contact.

In all of Mohammed
’
s
dealings with Edward, he had been cordial and agreeable. There had been a
mutual understanding of business and friendship when they met, which was when
Mohammed delivered the Arabian stallion. Although Mohammed knew it would be an
uphill battle to ask for his daughter
’
s
hand in marriage, because she was with child, the time for arguments was over.

"Lord Fairfax. It is I who should beg your forgiveness.
I should have approached you man to man and asked for Katharine
’
s hand in marriage. I
have loved her for too long and had I done the right thing, it would have saved
us all some heartache."

Edward looked startled as the man spoke and settled himself
onto a small chair.

"I have wondered,
”
Edward mused.
“
She
has been so distant of late, and I suspected the marriage between her and Jamie
was one of convenience.
”

He sighed. He only wanted his spirited daughter
’
s happiness, and knew
this strong man would be a good match, despite their different backgrounds.

“
But
now that James is dead and she is
…“

"She is what?" Mohammed asked, standing before the
older man.

Edward shook his head.

"Well that's just it, dear boy. She
…
she has disappeared. My
darling girl has vanished.
”

"Vanished? Tell me. What has happened?" Mohammed
asked. He was visibly shaken.

"I know very little. She was last seen walking the
grounds. One stable boy swears he saw a man with a horse and cart leaving the
grounds. We had no goods dropped off that day so he must have taken her off.
Why would someone want to harm her?" he asked Mohammed, his eyes filling
with tears. "She has no enemies."

No,
Mohammed thought.
There he is wrong. Katharine
made quite a few enemies in Arabia. And they must have followed her here to
finish what Yasmeen started.

***

Mohammed and Edward remained on their horses as they examined
the young stable boy named Jeremy who stood below them. He was 16 years old,
with a mop of red hair and blue eyes. The young boy swallowed nervously as he
stared at the Arab and Lord Edward.

"I seen 'im comin' down the path late," the young
stable boy claimed.

"You are certain?" Mohammed asked.

"Yes, sir. I am that." Jeremy nodded.

"Please explain in detail what you saw," Mohammed
asked.

"Not much to tell really. I was taking a walk and saw
the man in the cart with one 'orse leavin' the grounds. 'e did seem to be
carryin' a load but I didn' see it. I only say it now as 'e kept looking back
at 'is load again and again."

"Excellent. And can you describe the man?"
Mohammed asked.

Edward dabbed at his eyes as the boy continued,

"Yes sir. 'e were brown 'aired, with a scruffy beard
and peasant's clothes. Looked rather dirty."

Mohammed swore to himself. Nothing distinguishable. The man,
his horse and cart probably fit the description of half the men in England. For
all the boy's remarkable memory, it helped them not at all.

Mohammed gave the boy one gold coin.

"Thank you, Jeremy. Well done," he said.

It was not the boy's fault that all of his information was
useless. Mohammed turned to Edward, who seemed shrunken and pale.

This was the second time he had lost his precious jewel. If
their roles were reversed, Mohammed knew he would probably feel the same way.

"Lord Fairfax. We will find her, rest assured. I will
not stop until Katharine has been returned to us," Mohammed said.

Both turned their mounts around and set back to the great
house. Halfway there, they heard a yell that prompted them to rein in the
horses.

"Me lords, wait!" yelled Jeremy, as he came
running up to the two men.

"I do 'member somethin' tho it's prob'ly nuthin',"
he said.

"Out with it, son. Whatever it is," Edward said.

"The man. The one I saw. He had an ugly lookin' scar on
his right cheek," Jeremy smiled. "Does that 'elp?"

Mohammed stopped suddenly. He felt a shudder in his body.

"Are you sure, Jeremy? Absolutely sure? Think hard.
It's very important," Mohammed asked.

"Oh aye sir. I 'member wonderin' 'ow 'e got it. Yes,
twas the right cheek."

Mohammed swallowed once.

"Thank you, son," he said.

Jeremy turned, happy to have obliged his lord and the
foreign gentlemen, his gold coin warm in his hand.

As Mohammed followed Lord Fairfax back to the great house,
his blood ran cold. The demons had followed them from Arabia to England.

***

"Please, dearie. Drink the water," Abigail cooed
to the young woman. Sadly, her attentions were useless. The young woman hadn't
awakened since she was dumped on their steps.

She knew the stranger was a gentlewoman with her high
cheekbones, golden hair, and soft white hands. The novices had cleaned the
young lady and found the blood stemmed from between her legs. They had dressed
her in a long, white, cotton gown, but still she had not stirred.

Abigail tried again to get the woman to drink the water, but
she would not wake. She ran her fingers along the spine and binding of the Holy
Bible, which she had been reading the night before.

She would read aloud to the young blonde woman and hoped the
words would stir her. The nights were always the longest inside the Abbey. It
was a cold, dank place and she passed many a night reading to herself or
writing letters to the bishop. She brought the candle closer and began to read
quietly in the room.

***

Abdullah was still waiting for his token of agreement to
come to him to know that the plan with Jean Baptiste had worked.

It had been difficult, at first, to persuade Mohammed to
bring him from Arabia. However, Mohammed had been set upon the disastrous idea
of marriage to the Infidel and he had wanted Abdullah's guidance and support
regarding the marriage.

Daleel, the younger advisor, had made the journey to England
also, but had quickly returned home. He had never been outside of Arabia, so
the foreign food had turned his stomach and the cold had chilled him to the
bone. He had not been well and had to be sent back to the palace. He had begged
Mohammed's pardon for his weakness. Abdullah had always known him to be a weak
and foolish boy.

Abdullah had asked to stay on in England to be of service,
and Mohammed had agreed. Unknown to anyone else, Abdullah had been in
communication with Jean Baptiste in Arabia and had paid the man in gold to take
care of the problem. Though Katharine had disappeared that night with Yasmeen,
Abdullah was under no illusions that she would be gone forever. The sheik was
bewitched and he would find her; of this, Abdullah had no doubt.

Abdullah knew that he must make certain she disappeared for
good this time.

Jean Baptiste was a Frenchman through his mother's side, but
his father had been an Arab slave trader. Jean Baptiste was infamous in Arabia
and had been imprisoned several times, but he always managed to escape severe
punishment. After he committed a brutal assassination, he became a wanted man,
although certain people began hiring him for unspeakable acts.

Abdullah knew that when his plan began to formulate in his
brain. Jean Baptiste would take care of the problem, for a fee, of course. He
clasped his hands lightly together and pondered the situation. He had not
undertaken the kidnapping and dismissal of the white woman lightly.

He had thought long and hard about her presence at
Mohammed's side and had studied the Qur
’
an
intensely. The book of Surah in the Qur
’
an
had been quite an eyeful.

It had read: "And do not marry idolatress until they
believe and worship Allah alone. And indeed a slave woman is better than a free
idolatress even though she pleases you."

The Qur
’
an
stated it quite clearly. Mohammed must take a woman of the Islamic faith rather
than woman who does not believe in Allah.

The holy book continued: "Lawful unto you in marriage
not only chaste women who are believers, but chaste women among the People of
the Book...if anyone rejects faith, fruitless is his work, and in the Hereafter
he will be in the ranks of those who have lost all the spiritual good."

He had hung his head in silence after reading the line.
Mohammed would be lost to the ranks of the spiritual good if he took up with
the woman. His large hands were clasped together as he pondered it.

How would the people of Arabia accept him as their leader
and guide of the Islamic faith when he aligned himself with the Infidel? It was
unthinkable. Even if they did accept her in the beginning, eventually she would
bear fruit of their relationship and surely the woman would raise a child
outside the Islamic faith, thus severing the child's ties to Allah.
Unthinkable!

He had to save Mohammed from himself, so he put together a
plan. He would pay Jean Baptiste's passage to England and lay the trap. He had
watched her on the large property at home, and in her world. It was easy to see
why Mohammed was enchanted by her.

He had seen her billowing skirts seductively wrapping around
her legs as she moved, and knew she was a woman in her prime. He thought of his
beloved wife, Safa, who was older now and had born him several sons, but who
was not beautiful. However, Safa had been an obedient wife and raised their
sons as servants of Allah.

He had been like a hawk watching the little grey mouse. It
had unsettled him at first. She didn't stand a chance. But if the plan went
well, she would be gone before Mohammed knew anything at all. She would be sold
into the white slave trade and never been seen again. Inshallah.

However, it seemed that his plan to have her kidnapped had
gone awry. Almost a week had gone by, and he had not heard from Jean Baptiste.
When he and the girl boarded the ship bound for Arabia, he was to have sent a
gold coin to Abdullah as confirmation that they were gone. Abdullah had
received nothing.

He seethed inside.
The girl is like pollen, and men swarm
like bees in the warm sun to smell and taste her. The barbarian probably took
the woman to sample her for himself. Fool!
he thought.

The longer they were in England, the more likely it was that
Abdullah
’
s plan
would be discovered.
Damn him!
Abdullah thought.

***

The words trickled over her tongue lovingly. She had always
loved the French language, even though it wasn't her native tongue. The French
Bible had been a gift to her from the bishop, and she used it to keep herself
well-versed in the foreign language as well as God
’
s word.

Bessie, the young red-headed novice, was attentively doing
her needlepoint while Penelope was listening to the Abbess read. The three
women were seated around the bed of the unknown woman as Abigail continued to
read. She glanced quietly at the woman.

"Isn't it sad?" Penelope asked the Abbess.
"She's ever so lovely. Where are her people?"

Before Abigail could speak, Bessie answered her friend.

"Maybe she was kicked out of her home
…
because of the baby.
”
She whispered the last
words.

"Bessie, what did I tell you about that?" Abigail
sternly reprimanded the girl.

"I'm sorry," Bessie said.

Abigail shook her head at the two young girls. Novices were
always trying until their period of training ended after one year.

"Off to bed, both of you. I'll stay a while longer and
read," Abigail said, dismissing the two novices.

***

Bessie and Penelope roomed together inside the small cell.
As soon as they entered the room, Bessie changed out of her plain novice garb
and into a cotton dress.