Devil's Daughter (Devil 2)

She didn’t want the drink but it was better to play docile and drowsy. Better to pretend. Lella was giving birth; surely there would be excitement and perhaps carelessness. Perhaps she would be able to slip away. Freedom.

Arabella saw that she was right as the afternoon dragged on. Raj was with Lella, and most of the harem girls talked in small clusters near Lella’s chambers. She dressed in a loose silk robe, pulled on blue leather slippers, brushed the tangles from her hair, and tied it back with a bit of ribbon.

She walked slowly about the gardens, her eyes straying to the high walls and the double gates. There was a tall willow tree whose branches fell over the side of the far wall. Arabella stared at it, not for its beauty, but for its potential as a means of escape. Slowly she began to smile. Did the ridiculous men believe the girls in the harem too weak to climb a tree and escape? There was likely a guard on the other side of the wall, but to Arabella that was just as she wished it. She had no illusions about a woman escaping from Oran, but a man would have a chance.

She realized she had no money. But Raj must have money—that, or jewels—in his chambers.

Arabella heard another scream. Oh, Lella, please be all right. You are my only friend here. She wanted to go to Lella, but she knew Raj expected her to be asleep from the drug he had given her. Slowly she made her way back to her chamber, there to pace and plan and worry about Lella.

It was near to nine o’clock at night. There was but a sliver of moon in the sky as Arabella left her chamber. Everyone was still with Lella, including Lena, who had brought Arabella her supper and then left her, telling her not to worry, that Lella was holding her own and the babe would be birthed soon.

It had been child’s play, Arabella thought, a grim smile on her face, to steal a small bag of gold coins from Raj’s chambers. She fastened the leather pouch at her waist and patted her braided hair, wound tightly about her head.

She slipped through the garden like a silent shadow and made her way to the willow tree. Ah, Lella, she thought as she carefully climbed among the branches, you have given me my chance for freedom. She smiled, thinking about the wadded clothes and pillows she had formed in her shape on the bed. With any luck at all, no one would know she had escaped until morning.

Arabella paused at the top of the wall, staring over the side. There was one man patrolling the perimeter, and he looked anything but alert. She sent another silent plea heavenward, holding herself perfectly still until the guard was at least twenty yards away from her. She studied the rocky ground below, then wriggled down on the wall until her feet were dangling. She let go and landed lightly on the ground. There was no sound from the guard. She quickly selected a rock and drew back against the wall, waiting for the guard to come.

He was a young man, and not overly large, and he was whistling a lighthearted tune. Well, I am sorry, she told him silently, but you are going to have a great headache.

He saw her in the same instant the rock was slamming toward his head. He grunted in astonishment, then crumpled to the rocky ground.

Arabella paused but an instant before pulling off his clothes. He was wearing a flowing burnoose over his uniform, none too clean, but of great value to Arabella, for it would hide her hair and every unmasculine curve of her body. Once in his clothes, she straightened over him and softly cursed. She had nothing with which to bind him. She shrugged because there was no hope for it, and dragged him into the shadow of the wall.

“Sleep a long time,” she said, then turned and began to make her way down the treacherous slope toward Oran and the harbor.

“Highness, your sister-in-law has given birth to a son.”

Kamal was alert immediately, a wide smile on his face. “Excellent, Ali. Is Lella all right?”

“Yes, highness. It is after midnight—do you still wish to see her?”

“Indeed, just for a moment.”

Kamal dressed quickly and made his way to the harem, Ali at his heels. He found Lella looking pale and exhausted, her son bundled in her arms.

“Well, my sister”—he smiled down at her—“you have given Hamil a son, and me a nephew.”

“He is perfect, Kamal, and the image of his father.”

“I would have expected no less of you, Lella.” He sat beside her and pulled back the linen cover from his nephew’s face. “Ah, he does not have all his father’s beauty, praise Allah.”

Lella’s smile suddenly saddened and tears formed in her eyes. She turned her face away, but Kamal gently touched his fingers to her jaw. “I understand, Lella. I loved him too, you know.”

“Yes, I know. Kamal, why did it happen? He was as much at home on a ship as on land. How could he have fallen overboard?”

He held her and her son, his own pain heavy while her tears fell on his neck. “Sometimes,” he said, “I think we are here to play the fool for some force that we do not understand. There is no escape from our own miseries. All is duty, honor to rules that we did not make. All is acceptance.”

“Must you give her up, Kamal?”

His arms tightened about her, then eased. Gently he lowered her onto her pillow and straightened. He looked tired and beaten.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Do not be, Lella.” He gazed about her chamber. “Can you honestly see Arabel

la content in my harem? She would tear it apart stone by stone, and me with it. You are tired, sweet sister. Sleep now. I will see you and my perfect nephew in the morning.”

He kissed her gently on her pale cheek, then rose. “It is nearly mid—” His voice broke off at the loud shouts coming from outside.