All the Sweet Tomorrows

by Bertrice Small

  “No, you will have to go to Fez yourself, but my nephew, Hamal, will aid you. Hamal wants your husband out of the princess’s life before this obsession she has drives her mad. But we have a complication. As I have said, my daughter, Lord Burke has persisted in defying Princess Turkhan. He simply will not yield, which only intrigues her further. Now, however, Hamal tells me he has begun to grow despondent. Because of my deep fondness for you, Skye, I have sent for you, for if Lord Burke is to escape Princess Turkhan he needs his hope renewed. There is only one way that that can be achieved, I believe.”

  All of Skye’s old instincts had begun to resurface as she listened to Osman speak. She was no longer Skye O’Malley, but rather she was Skye Muna el Khalid, one of the most famous women in Algiers. “If Hamal loves his princess so, Osman, why does he not simply rid himself of Niall? There is poison, a sharp knife in a dark garden, a pillow held over the face. There are any number of ways to rid oneself of a rival in the harem. Why has he not used one of them?” She was frankly suspicious.

  “Hamal is a gentle boy,” Osman replied, “and he knows that Niall’s death could destroy the princess, especially if it were proved he had a part in it. Turkhan would then lose both the men for whom she truly cares. Besides, my nephew honestly loves his princess. If, however, Niall were to escape, the princess would be enraged and her love would turn to hate for Niall. A woman scorned is a terrible thing, my daughter.”

  Skye nodded. She certainly knew the truth of that statement. “Can you arrange for me to get to Fez?” she said. “I will, of course, take my own people with me. I do not need many, but if a rescue plan is to succeed I must have my own people about me.”

  “There is only one way you can get to Fez, my daughter,” Osman said. “Fez is a holy city, and foreigners, women in particular, are allowed nowhere near the city. Only you alone can travel there.”

  Skye looked puzzled. “You say foreigners, especially women, are not allowed into Fez. How then in Heaven’s name can I enter it?”

  “You can only enter Fez if you are a member of a household whose master is a native of the city. You will enter Fez with my other nephew, Kedar.”

  “He will do this for you? How generous a man he must be!”

  “You misunderstand me, Skye, my daughter. Kedar is a religious man. He will not break the taboo of Fez, his native city, even for a family tie.”

  “Then how?” she demanded.

  “You must be very brave, Skye, my daughter. What I am about to propose to you will not be to your liking; but it is the only way, I swear to you.” Osman’s wise face was troubled, and Skye felt an awful foreboding.

  “How?” she repeated.

  Osman sighed. “In two days’ time my nephew Kedar arrives here in Algiers. He comes once a year to visit me, and to seek my advice on organizing his life for the following year. I must tell you, Skye, that he is a very sensual man; a connoisseur of beautiful women; a devotee of all that is voluptuous and erotic. When he arrives I would present him with a beautiful slave girl who I shall tell him is called Muna, which as you know means desire in our tongue.”

  Robbie, who had been quietly listening, now burst out, “How in the name of the seven djinns is that supposed to help Skye get into Fez?” He looked first at Osman and then to Skye.

  Skye was very pale, and for a moment Robbie wasn’t sure she was even breathing. Finally she said, “Do you know what it is you are asking me to do? Surely, Osman, there is a better way! You cannot ask this of me!”

  “I have told you the facts of the situation, my daughter. If there is another way then enlighten me, I beg you. I am appalled at what I must ask of you, but it is the only way. The knowledge that you are near can rally Lord Burke’s flagging spirits and give him new courage. It is almost too late now.”

  “What is it you two are talking about?” Robbie asked. “I can’t understand a word of it!”

  “Fez is a holy city closed to foreigners, Robbie. Osman says the only way I can get into it to rescue Niall is to pretend I am a slave girl. He would present me to his nephew as such.”

  “What?!”

  Skye almost laughed at the honest outrage on Robbie’s very weathered English face. “I must pretend to be a slave,” she repeated.

  “I heard you the first time!” Robbie roared. “It’s out of the question! Do you know what you’ll have to do if you’re this Kedar’s slave woman? Ye’re not the type of woman a man buys to scrub his floors or cook his food! Are ye daft, Skye lass? Besides, so far all we have is someone’s word that this man is Niall Burke. What if he isn’t? What if this is someone who knows that Niall is dead, and is using his name?”

  “To what end, Robbie? Why would someone use Niall’s name?”

  “To gain the opportunity of ransom, lass!”

  “It is rare a captive can be ransomed, Captain Small,” Osman said quietly.

  “Perhaps he didn’t know that,” Robbie said, grasping for any reasonable explanation.

  “I considered the possibility that you might need proof of some sort,” Osman said, “and so I asked Hamal to obtain it for me. The man who calls himself Niall Burke stands several inches over six feet in height. He has dark hair and silver eyes. He is lean and hard of body, according to Hamal, obviously a man who has kept himself in shape; and he bears the scars of a severe wound in the region of his belly.”

  “It is Niall!” Skye cried, and her face was suffused with pure joy. “He is alive, Robbie! He is alive!”

  “All right,” Robbie muttered, defeated. “I would have said it could be anyone until Osman mentioned the wound. It’s Niall, all right, but he’ll not be overly happy to find out that you’ve put yourself into the harem of some lusty Arab in order to reach Fez. And what happens when you do reach Fez? How in hell are you going to rescue a man penned in a harem when you’re penned in a harem, too? Answer me that, Skye lass!”

  Skye looked to Osman. “Does your plan go beyond getting me to Fez, my old friend?”

  “The key is Hamal,” Osman said. “Although he is the property of Princess Turkhan, she is so fond of him that he is allowed his freedom as if he were not a slave. As her favorite, he is not without influence. He comes and he goes as he pleases. He has the run of her home—and the run of his brother’s home. This will allow him to help you, my daughter.”

  “What is the quickest escape route, Osman?” Skye asked.

  “The river that runs through Fez empties into the Atlantic Ocean, my daughter, but it is not a navigable river. You will have to return the way you came, back here to Algiers. Hamal believes he knows a way, but it all depends on you making yourself indispensable to Kedar.”

  “How do you and Hamal communicate, Osman?” Skye was curious, for she knew it was close to six hundred miles between Fez and Algiers.

  “The pigeons, my daughter,” was the smiling reply. “The birds are our messengers, and we use a code that I taught Hamal when he was a little boy. It amused him then, and it now amuses us that we may communicate without anyone knowing what we speak of, Skye. I was in Fez several months ago to teach briefly at the university. Hamal and I discussed much of this then, but I could not seek you until I had returned to Algiers. Had Jamil not departed for Istanbul, I should have come to you myself in Beaumont de Jaspre.”

  “Did you arrange for Jamil’s departure?” Skye looked closely at her old friend.

  Osman chuckled, and his dark eyes twinkled with glee. “It is strange,” he said, admitting nothing, “that word of a cure for Jamil’s impotence should come at this time.”

  Skye grew serious once more.

  “Did you ever see Niall, Osman?” she asked.

  “No,” he answered, sorry to disappoint her. “The princess does not know me, and it would not have been possible under the circumstances for me to enter her house. Hamal visited me at his brother’s home, or at my quarters at the university.”

  “You’re determined to do this?” Robbie said, and Skye could hear the worried concern in his voice. “
’Tis total madness, y’know.”

  “Niall is alive,” Skye answered him. “My husband, the father of my babies, is alive! Oh, Robbie, you of all people know what we have both been through over the years. I love him! I have always loved him and he has always loved me! When I learned that Darragh had killed him I was sick with anger and outrage that after all we had endured he should be taken from me again. I must free him from this bondage he is enmeshed in, just as he would free me. I will not be beaten, Robbie! Not in this!”

  Robert Small bowed his head in a private agony. He had no argument to offer, and as difficult as the situation was he knew that she was right. If they attempted to go through official channels it could take forever. More than likely the spoiled and determined Princess Turkhan would hide Niall, and they would be forced to accept defeat in the end. The Moroccan sultan was not about to offend the wealthy and powerful daughter of his overlord, the Ottoman sultan in Istanbul. They would not jeopardize themselves over an infidel nobleman. “I’ll support you in any way that I can, Skye lass,” Robbie said quietly, and he hugged her where she sat, tears running down his face.

  Skye’s own beautiful blue eyes were wet with tears as she said huskily, “Thank you, Robbie! Thank you!”

  “It is decided, then?” Osman asked.

  “Yes,” came the reply. “When your nephew arrives you will present him with a new slave girl named Muna. I wonder though, Osman. Am I not too old for this? I am not the girl I was ten years ago.”

  “You look it,” Osman said. “Does she not yet look a girl, Captain Small? Your face is youthful, and I suspect that, despite all your children, your body remains youthful also.”

  Skye chuckled. “I have had four children since we last met, my old friend Osman. Although I am in better condition than many women my age, I am still not a girl of nineteen.”

  “Fear not, my daughter. We will tell Kedar that you have had children. It will only serve to increase your value in his eyes. A Fasi is very much a family man.”

  “What in the name of all that is holy is a Fasi?” Robbie demanded.

  “A Fasi is a native-born citizen of Fez, my friend. I am a Fasi although I have lived here in Algiers for more years than I ever lived in Fez.”

  “How old do you intend to tell your nephew I am?” Skye asked.

  “How old are you now, my daughter?”

  “I am twenty-nine,” she answered.

  “Ye’re thirty,” Robbie contradicted her bluntly.

  “Robbie!” Her face wore an outraged look. “A woman is always permitted to lie about her age.”

  “Not when she’s dealing with Osman, and taking her life in her hands,” he snapped. “If I know my old friend he’ll be wanting to plot your own chart now that you remember your past life.”

  Osman’s face broadened in a smile. “You are correct, Captain. When Skye was with us those ten years ago, and without her memory, I could only plot her chart to a certain degree, and by using my other powers. It was never totally accurate. Now I can do a complete horoscope, and I shall if she will but give me her birthdate.”

  “I was born December 5th, 1540,” Skye said, “and I shall not be thirty officially until December, Robbie!” She smiled smugly at him.

  Osman frowned. “I believed you born under the sign of the Ram,” he said, and then his face relaxed. “Of course! Now I see it! You were conceived beneath the sign of the Ram! You are born under the sign of the Archer. Both are fire signs, my daughter. You are powerfully protected. Do you know the hour of your birth?”

  “I was born at nine minutes after nine o’clock in the evening,” Skye answered.

  “I will work on your chart tonight,” Osman said. “I must have all the knowledge I need before I send you forth to Fez.” He turned to Robbie. “I will ask you to say your good-byes now, Captain. If Skye is to prepare for her role she will need time, and there is little time before Kedar arrives.”

  “How will I know when to expect Skye and Niall?” Robbie asked.

  “Hamal will get a message to you. Remember that it will be almost two months before Skye reaches Fez. Then she will need time to make contact with Hamal, which will not be easy. It will be between three and four months, possibly more, before they can act, and return to Algiers. You will need to cultivate great patience, my friend.”

  “Go back to Beaumont de Jaspre,” Skye said. “Tell Nicolas that I will not be returning. Then see that the children are sent home immediately. There is no need to torture my poor Nicolas any further, and if all evidence of my residence in Villerose is wiped away, then perhaps he will seriously consider choosing a new bride. The children will go overland to the channel coast, for I have promised them a visit to Paris. Bran is to take them from France to England. I had intended that my Burke children be sent directly to Ireland, but I think that it is better that Bran meet with you when he has gotten them all safely to England. In case anything should happen to one of you, better I have the both of you as guardians. The Burke infants can stay with your sister at Wren Court, Robbie. They will be no trouble, as they have their own staff, and I will wager that Dame Cecily adores having them.”

  “Let me stay at least until you leave for Fez,” Robbie begged.

  “No,” she answered. “If I am to convince Kedar that I am nothing more than a captive slave girl I must be totally cut off from my real life. It is going to be hard enough to be subservient, Robbie!” Her blue-green eyes were laughing at him now, and he guffawed loudly.

  “Aye,” he said, “I suppose it is best I leave you alone to prepare for your role. It wouldn’t do to have you telling this great merchant of Fez how to run his business. I don’t think that that is quite what he’s going to expect of you.” Then he grew serious. “You’ll take care of yourself, lass? You’ll not take chances?”

  “I am taking a chance when I travel to Fez as Kedar’s slave,” she said softly. “There is no escaping the danger, Robbie, but I am mindful of it. I am not afraid.” She leaned over and kissed him.

  No, she wasn’t afraid, he could see it. Her belief that she could find Niall and escape back to safety shone like a silvery aura about her. Robert Small prayed silently that that faith be justified. She had so very much to lose.

  He rose slowly to his feet and drew her up. “All right, then,” he said, “I’ll be on my way. Walk me to the door, and we’ll say our farewells there.” He turned. “Osman, my friend, will you come also?”

  “No, Captain. I will bid you farewell here. We will meet again, I know; and believe me that all will go well, my friend. May Allah watch over you.”

  Robbie nodded. “I’ve never known you to be wrong, Osman,” he said. “I know that I can trust you.”

  Together Skye and Robbie walked to the main entry of Osman’s house. There was really nothing left for them to discuss, so she simply hugged him, and said, “Take care, my dearest friend.”

  “It is you who should take care,” he muttered, and then he held her close against him in a fatherly embrace. “I wish to Heaven you wouldn’t do this thing,” he said, “but I know that you must. God’s bones, lass, come home safely!” Then he quickly released her, and was gone out the door. She was certain she had seen tears in his kindly eyes.

  With a sigh Skye turned from the door and walked back to Osman’s study, where the astrologer awaited her. Wordlessly he handed her a tiny porcelain cup of newly made coffee. Slowly she sipped the burning, bitter liquid until at last she felt calm again. Sensing her recovery, Osman spoke.

  “There is no one among my slaves who knows who you are. We will therefore begin the charade now. You are Muna, a slave girl whom I have bought to give my nephew, the lord Kedar of Fez. You are a captive, but for beautiful captives like yourself there is no ransom. You were widowed a year ago, and were being sent by your family to marry a wealthy Florentine merchant. You have two babies, but your husband-to-be did not want you to bring your children to this new marriage.

  “Just as it entered the Mediterranean, your ship wa
s captured by pirates who brought you to Algiers, where you were placed in a private bagnos. I bought you. You arrived today at the same time my old friend, Captain Small, arrived. I have returned your trunk, by the way, to your ship. I will see that you are clothed properly to entice my nephew.” He thought a moment. “Have I forgotten anything, Muna?”

  “No, my lord Osman,” she answered meekly.

  He smiled. “Very good, my daughter! Now, for the next two days you must immerse yourself in the character of Muna. Does my history of your past satisfy you?”

  “It is fine, my lord, but I would ask one question. You have still not told me how old I am to be.”

  “Aiii!” Osman clapped his plump hand to his smooth forehead. Then he nodded at her with a small smile. “You can easily pass for twenty, my daughter. Your skin is so marvelously translucent it makes you seem much younger than your years. One other thing. You must have a potion that will prevent your conceiving a child by my nephew. Such a thing is unthinkable!”

  “I have my own potion, Osman, but you have sent it back to the ship along with my trunk,” she laughed.

  “It works?”

  “I have never conceived a child while I took it,” she answered him.

  “I will have it fetched immediately, then,” he said. “There is no use switching potions if yours works. Return to your quarters now, my daughter, and I will send the seamstress to you. She will outfit you completely within the next two days. When Kedar arrives you will be ready for him.”

  Skye rose from the silken cushions, bowed low to Osman, and left him. The next two days proved busy ones as the seamstress and her assistants sewed a lavish wardrobe for the beautiful slave girl Muna. In Osman’s household only his wife, Alima, knew the truth about Muna. The two women spent most of their waking hours together in the garden, surrounded by Alima and Osman’s children. Altogether there were seven of them: five mischievous little boys ranging in age from nine to two; and two little girls, one seven, and one an infant who had been born around the same time as Skye’s son, Padraic. Alima refreshed Skye’s memory on Eastern customs; any other gaps of knowledge would be put down to her status as a slave.