Banished to the Harem

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘She was very unusual,’ Rakhal said. ‘My father met her when he was walking; he found her dancing in the desert. He chose her as his bride even though he was warned against it. Normally the King’s wife does not cause problems, but my mother did.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Natasha urged—not just because she had to understand this complicated man, but because the desert fascinated her so.

  ‘My father had work to do in London. After a few months of marriage he was disappointed that my mother was not pregnant and she was too—she did not like the palace and pined for the desert. The maidens were frantic, for she stopped eating and would hardly take a drink—she spat out the custard …’ He turned and gave a wry smile, for Natasha had done the same. ‘She grew too thin, too pale and weak, and my father had her taken to London. He said that there the best hospitals were available, the best treatments, and once there she started to pick up and eat …’

  ‘Maybe it was your father she missed and not the desert?’

  Rakhal shook his head, but he could not completely refute it. After all, it was in London that he had been conceived.

  ‘My father carries guilt with him—he should not have succumbed with his bride in London. None of the traditions were followed. She returned to Alzirz already pregnant. She stayed at the palace but despite their best efforts the damage was done and she grew weaker there. I was born just a few months later and she died in the process.’ He looked over to Natasha. ‘I do not ask you to believe in our ways, just that you understand that in going through with this I am trying to protect you too.’

  And that much she did understand.

  ‘I spoke to my brother today.’

  She had at first thought herself a prisoner, and had been surprised on the second day when Amira had brought her a phone and said that her brother wished to speak with her—now they spoke most days.

  ‘How was he?’

  ‘He said sorry,’ Natasha said. ‘He’s said sorry many, many times. But this time I think he means it.’ She glanced up at Rakhal, to his strong profile, to the eyes she could not read. She wanted to ask him a question. ‘I’ve been thinking …’

  ‘The desert makes you think.’

  ‘I know,’ she admitted. ‘I was so angry with my parents for making me sell the house …’ her words tumbled out fast ‘… I think they were looking out for me—I think they knew Mark’s problems. If the house had been in both our names ….’ She shuddered at the thought.

  ‘They still are looking out for you,’ Rakhal said.

  ‘Do you believe that?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Do you think your mother is looking out for you?’

  Those wide shoulders shrugged and she almost had to run to keep up with him, but then he paused. ‘Have you heard of dust devils?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Tornado?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Sometimes there are small ones. Often …’ He looked out to the horizon, as if looking might make one appear. ‘Sometimes I think I see her there dancing,’ Rakhal said. ‘Sometimes I hear her laughing. It was five years ago that my father insisted I marry.’ He looked at her shocked face and smiled. ‘Here in Alzirz we only marry once in a lifetime.’

  ‘So you’ve defied him?’

  ‘It was not easy,’ Rakhal said. ‘There was much pressure. I know my people need an heir. I came out here to think and I heard her laughing, as if she was giving me her blessing to refuse. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe I should have married then …’ He looked to Natasha. ‘It might have saved you some trouble.’

  He was uncomfortable with this discussion—had told her things he had never shared. He started to walk on.

  ‘Anyway, she is back with the desert she loved.’

  ‘Rakhal.’ She looked out at a landscape that was fierce, brutal and staggeringly beautiful, and then she looked back to a man that was the same. She craved his mouth and his mind, but not his ways. ‘It wasn’t the desert she pined for—it was your father.’

  ‘Enough!’

  ‘Well, clearly they were happy to see each other in London.’ She would not be silenced. ‘I can think of nothing worse than being locked away in the palace. Especially …’ Natasha swallowed. ‘Especially if I loved my husband and knowing …’ She could not bite down on her venom, for how she hated his ways. ‘Your mother would have loathed knowing he was with his harem.’

  ‘I said that is enough.’ Rakhal did not need a lecture from a woman who had spent just a few nights in his land. ‘You admonish our ways, yet you defend yours. In my country women are cosseted, looked after—whereas you were in fear of your own brother. And,’ he demanded, ‘is there fidelity in your land?’

  ‘Some,’ Natasha said.

  ‘Rubbish,’ Rakhal said. ‘In your land hearts get broken over and over because of the impossible rules. Here we accept that no one woman can suffice for a king. I will not continue with this ridiculous conversation,’ Rakhal said, and strode off.

  ‘You really don’t like arguing, do you?’ She ran to keep up with him. ‘You only like it when I agree with you. Well, I never will.’

  ‘You might have to.’

  ‘No.’

  She stopped and stood still in the fierce heat. She stood as he walked, and she called to his back as he walked on.

  ‘If I am to respect your ways, then you will respect mine.’

  ‘Natasha, we do not have time for this. The sun is fierce. It is time to return to the tent.’

  ‘I’m not going back until you listen to me.’

  ‘Then you will be waiting a very long time.’

  But of course they both knew he was bluffing, for though he would allow Natasha to perish in the desert, she might be carrying his child and that made it a different matter indeed.

  With a hiss of annoyance Rakhal turned around and strode towards her. ‘I will carry you back if I have to.’

  ‘Good,’ Natasha said. ‘Then my mouth will be closer to your ear.’

  Reluctant was the laugh that shot from his lips. ‘You have an answer for everything.’

  ‘No, Rakhal, I don’t,’ Natasha admitted. ‘I have no idea what is going to happen if I am pregnant. I don’t have any answers there. But while we wait and see what is going to happen, while I’m stuck here in the middle of nowhere, while I am forced to play by your rules, then I insist on enforcing one of mine. There will be no other women.’

  ‘Natasha.’ His voice was full of reason—patient, even—as he explained the strange rules. ‘I have told you: I cannot sleep with you if there is even a chance you are pregnant …’

  ‘Then you’d better get used to being alone.’ She saw the shake of his head. ‘I mean it, Rakhal.’

  ‘Suppose I play by your rules? What if you are pregnant? What if we are to be wed? You’d really expect me to go months, maybe a year …’

  ‘You clearly expect me to.’

  ‘But it is different for women,’ Rakhal said. ‘You went almost a quarter of a century without it. After all, you—’

  He did not get to finish. Her hand sliced his cheek and he felt the sting of her fingers meet his flesh.

  ‘If I am your wife, you are loyal to me.’

  ‘And if I am not?’ Rakhal challenged. ‘What? You will lie there rigid like a plank of wood?’ The triumph she had witnessed that night was back in his eyes now. ‘I did not even touch you the other night, yet your body came to me …’

  ‘You hadn’t been with another,’ Natasha retorted. ‘You didn’t sicken me … then.’ And the wind whistled across the desert, the sun seemed to burn in the back of her skull, as she told the truth. ‘I would never forgive you, Rakhal.’ She made things a little more clear. ‘And I don’t give out second warnings.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SHE could not sleep, despite the custard.

  Eight days here and she was growing more crazy by the day.

  Her breasts felt tender and she wondered if she would soon have her period, but—more wo
rryingly for Natasha—she wasn’t so sure that she wanted it to arrive. She wanted more time with Rakhal.

  She should not enjoy their conversations, she told herself.

  Should not crave the evenings when they played old board games or ate and laughed or simply talked. Should not lie at night and listen to the music and remember the shadows and picture herself back in his bed.

  Should not let herself fall in love with this strange land …

  And when the music was silenced she wished she could sleep, wished that she did not crave his company, so she lay there, though she had been given permission. She should not condone his strange summons—except she could not sleep.

  ‘What are these?’ She had never seen anything more beautiful. There was a roll of black velvet on the floor and it was littered with jewels of all different shades of pink, from the palest blush to the darkest of wine, and Rakhal was sitting as if contemplating them. ‘Are they rubies?’

  ‘Diamonds,’ Rakhal answered, and it was at that very moment she realised she was in serious trouble.

  Oh, she had known it when she awoke on the plane, had known it too when she ran into the desert, but this was a different sort of trouble. When she saw the stones, and the care he was taking with his decision, she had a flutter in her stomach. Was he choosing a diamond for her? To be feeling like that was a very different sort of trouble indeed.

  ‘There are also sapphires,’ Rakhal said, and gestured for her to join him. ‘It is a difficult decision. I do not want to cause offence.’

  ‘Offence?’

  ‘Diamonds are more valuable, especially pink ones, but here …’

  He handed her two stones, both heavy and a purplish pink, and she held them up to the light, marvelling at the kaleidoscope that danced in them.

  ‘They are beautiful, yes?’

  ‘They’re more than beautiful,’ Natasha breathed, for it was as if an angel had chipped a piece out of heaven and dropped it to earth.

  ‘The trouble is they are sapphires.’

  ‘I thought sapphires were blue?’

  She looked to him and he was smiling—a smile she had never seen, for it was black and unkind, but it was not aimed at her. He looked to the jewels she had put down.

  ‘That I hope will be his first thought.’

  ‘His?’

  ‘King Emir of Alzan,’ Rakhal said. ‘I am to choose a gift to send to celebrate the gift of his twin girls. I first thought of diamonds—pink diamonds—but it is too obvious a choice, so I have had my people source the best in pink sapphires. I do not want to cause offence by giving a gift that is not valuable, but these are the best.’ And then his smile darkened. ‘But naturally when you think of sapphires you think of blue, and blue makes you think of sons.’ Rakhal had made his choice. ‘As Emir must be thinking … as the entire country is thinking …’

  ‘Perhaps Emir is simply enjoying his gorgeous new girls.’

  He looked at her and lay down on his cushions, and she lay down on hers, because sometimes, when neither was sulking, they talked. She’d told him about her family, about her parents and how she missed them so. About her job as a teacher. In turn he would tell her tales of the desert and sometimes, like this time, it was the only place on earth she wanted to be. His voice was rich and painted pictures in her mind, and tonight when he asked for the music to resume he told her she could remain.

  ‘Generations ago the Sheikha Queen was to give birth in one full moon’s time.’ He smiled as she closed her eyes to the sound of his voice. He had never expected her to be so keen to learn of his land, had never known another who was not from here to be so interested in the tales of old. ‘But the Queen surprised everyone. The birth was early, and they were expecting only one baby, but two sons were delivered. The doula was taken by surprise and there was confusion. With twins, the firstborn should be branded, to avoid any mistake, only these twins were a surprise, and they could not be sure who was the firstborn. Always there had been unrest in Alzanirz. The country was divided—’

  ‘Why?’ she interrupted. She looked over to him and saw that he was watching her, knew his eyes had been roaming her, and she loved the feeling of warmth.

  ‘This side honoured the sky, the other the land. Both thought their way the most important. The King sought counsel and it was decided to appease all people. Each twin would rule half of the land.’

  ‘So Emir and you are related?’

  ‘Distantly.’ Rakhal shrugged.

  ‘And now he has twins?’

  ‘He would have preferred sons,’ Rakhal said. ‘His wife was ill with this pregnancy—perhaps too ill to get pregnant again …’

  ‘Poor thing.’

  ‘It is good for Alzirz,’ Rakhal explained. ‘Perhaps Alzan will return to us soon.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Emir has one brother, but he is not King material—he is too wild in his ways. Emir would never step aside for Hassan … and now he has two daughters! Twins divided us and now they will reunite us.’

  She did not return his smile. ‘Why would you want another country to rule over?’

  ‘Why do you seek debate when there can be none? It was written many years ago. I don’t expect you to understand.’

  ‘I don’t want to,’ Natasha said. ‘I cannot imagine being disappointed to have a daughter.’

  ‘You do not have to,’ Rakhal said. ‘For here in Alzirz the sex of a child is not a concern. All the people want is healthy offspring and plenty of them.’

  And she was stupid to have hoped he might be selecting a stone for her—even more stupid for thinking she wanted to be a part of this strange land. She stood and headed to her chambers.

  ‘Where are you going?’ He had been enjoying their talk.

  ‘To my room.’

  ‘You offend easily.’

  ‘You so easily offend.’

  He was tired of her moods, tired of her speaking back to him and yet he was not tired of her.

  Rakhal summoned Abdul and asked that the sapphires be delivered to Emir in the morning. Pleased with his gift and the bile it would induce in his rival he headed to his sleeping quarters. But the brief pleasure died as he stretched out on the pillows and asked for the music to be silenced for he remembered the night she had shared his bed.

  But perhaps he should ask the musician to resume, for his body craved a woman. So many times these past nights his hand had reached for the rope that would summon the mistress of his harem to send him a woman, and now, as he lay there, his mind awake and his body too, he thought of Natasha and what she might look like beneath the organza. He had only seen her covered, but he knew she would be hennaed and oiled, and though it was forbidden how he ached to taste and to see …

  He ached …

  His hand reached for the rope to pull it, so that he would not think of Natasha—for even if he wanted her he could not have her. If his child grew in her womb it should rest undisturbed.

  He was hard at the thought of her. He should reach for the rope, not reach for himself, for that was also forbidden. There were twenty women who could attend to his needs tonight, except his mind craved only one.

  ‘Rakhal?’

  He had not heard her footsteps. It was only her voice that told him she had entered his quarters.

  ‘You are not permitted here,’ he barked, and rolled onto his side, but he knew that she had seen the rise of the silk.

  ‘The music isn’t playing, and anyway I can’t sleep.’

  She could not. Natasha knew from the ache low down in her stomach what the morning would bring—knew that it was their last real chance to be alone, that it might be their last chance to talk properly. Impossible as the rules were, Rakhal was not totally unreasonable. Unlike the night she had arrived, when she had felt so terrified and alone, now—despite their differences—there was a peace that only he brought, a smile that only he summoned, and never again would she fear him.

  ‘I’m not tired.’

  ‘Then pull your rope and one of the maids will bring
you a potion—or give you a massage if you choose …’

  ‘I want to talk.’

  ‘Then I will have someone who speaks English come and read to you, or hold a conversation.’

  ‘I meant to you,’ Natasha answered. ‘With you.’ When he said nothing she looked up. ‘The stars are amazing tonight. Can they pull back my roof?’

  ‘Tomorrow I will ask for it to be done.’

  He wanted her gone, wanted to summon a woman from the harem. He did not want a circus parading in the tent tonight and fixing the roof when he wanted—no, needed—her gone. He felt the indent of the cushions and was appalled by her boldness as she sat down on the Prince’s bed, where only the invited were allowed. He snapped on the light to scold her—and then wished that he hadn’t for she looked amazing … her hair coiled over her shoulders and her mouth his for the taking. He must not.

  ‘Go back to bed.’

  ‘I’m not ten years old,’ Natasha said. ‘You can’t just send me. I’m bored.’

  ‘I am never bored.’ He said it as an insult.

  ‘Yes, well, you’ve got the best view. If I could look at the stars I wouldn’t be bored either.’ She lay down beside him but he moved away. ‘I’m not here to seduce you.’

  She grinned. There was nothing more beautiful than to lie on his bed and stare at the stars. And then her smile faded, for deep in her stomach she felt again a telltale cramp and moved her hand there. He watched, and was silent for a moment.

  ‘You should sleep,’ he said finally. ‘Take the custards.’

  But he knew somehow they were trying to hold back a tide that had turned. He could see the swell of her breasts and recalled the flash of tears tonight when another time she might have laughed. He did not want it to be tomorrow—did not want their time in the desert to end.

  ‘I will show you the stars.’

  He did. He called for gentle music and he showed her Orion, even if she could not make it out at first. It was like the best bedtime story, his deep, low voice telling her about the magnificent hunter and the red wound on his shoulder—the red star.