'Mahdi – is it you?'

The frightened maidservant slipped into bed beside her. Cait put her arm around the young woman's shivering shoulders and gathered her in. As she would have comforted Alethea, she consoled Mahdi, stroking her hair and telling her there was nothing to fear. Pila'i slept on, serenely unaware of the wind and lashing rain. So, Cait and Mahdi held vigil together, huddled in bed until it was light enough to get up.

The storm gave no sign of abating with the dawn. But as soon as it was light enough to find her way around, Cait rose and allowed her maids to dress her. Then, escorted from the women's quarters by Jubayar, she hurried to find Prince Hasan so the search for Alethea could begin anew.

Searching for the prince, she found Lord Rognvald instead. He was standing in the vestibule entrance with two fidgety porters, the door wide open, staring out into a bleak, wind-torn void of fog and sleet and swirling snow. He turned as she came to stand beside him, and greeted her with stiff, almost frozen formality, then observed, 'You are early risen, my lady-for one so late to bed.'

Cait returned his chilly greeting, and said, 'I could not sleep for the storm.' She looked out through the open door at the roiling grey mass and felt the cold bite of the wind on her skin. A memory stirred-of a dream, or the lingering impression of a dream: something about being lost in a raging gale. It passed through her with a shiver and then was gone. 'It must break soon, I should think,' she said hopefully.

'Pray that it does,' Rognvald told her, 'for until it spends itself somewhat, we cannot resume the search.'

Growing impatient at last, the porters intervened to close the doors and shut out the icy gale. Cait and Rognvald made their way to the reception hall where a fire had been lit and was now blazing with bright fury on the hearth. Two servants were adding firewood to the already towering stack under Prince Hasan's commanding gaze. At his visitors' approach, the prince beckoned them to come and warm themselves.

'It is the one regrettable verity of life atop a mountain,' he said. 'If the weather is bad in the valleys it is always worse here-especially in winter.'

'It is often like this?' wondered Cait, extending her hands towards the fire.

'Worse, Ketmia. Winter arrives with a fury, and leaves only with the greatest reluctance. We call it al-Zoba'a: the Ferocious One. But the palace walls are stout, my forests keep us well supplied with firewood, and the harvest of the valleys is always bountiful, so we do not often have cause to trouble Heaven with our complaints.'

'Lord Rognvald thinks the storm will prevent us from resuming the search,' Cait said, hoping for a better word.

'Then he is most prudent,' agreed Hasan cheerfully. 'It is unwise to tempt fate on a day like this.' At Cait's distraught expression, he said, 'Yet all is not lost, Ketmia.' He took her hand in both of his and pressed it comfortingly. 'For if the storm prevents us from searching, it also prevents Ali Waqqar from escaping to the south.'

'Do you think that is where they are going?'

'To be sure,' replied Hasan. 'Winter is mild in the south, and he will be able to sell to the slave traders.' Cait had never considered this possibility before, and it brought her up short; the prince immediately offered consolation. 'Have no fear, Ketmia, that will not happen. I will not allow it.'

Spreading his arms wide, he took both Cait and Rognvald in his stride and said, 'But come, my friends, this is a disagreeable business to discuss on an empty stomach. Let us break fast together, and I will tell you how I plan to catch this rogue who has abducted the fair Alethea. For I pondered this matter long last night and this morning Allah, Author of Eternal Justice, has blessed me with a scheme of such simplicity and cunning it could only come by way of divine inspiration.'

He led them through a door to a chamber behind the hearth. Dim light shone through tiny diamond-shaped windows of coloured glass, casting the room in shades of deep blue. One wall opened on to the hearth, so that both the reception hall and the smaller chamber could share the warmth of the fire. A number of cushions had been placed around a low table near the hearth, and the table laid for a simple meal.

'Please, sit, take your ease, my friends,' said the prince, dropping languidly on to a cushion. Serving maids appeared and began pouring cups of almond milk; they unwrapped stacks of flatbread spiced with anise still warm from the oven. There was dried fruit and nuts in little baskets, and a warm drink made with dried apples infused in hot water and sweetened with honey-which they served in small cups made of glass.

Cait took a bite of her bread, and set it aside. 'If you please, Prince Hasan, tell me your plan,' she said, unable to suppress her excitement any longer. 'I must hear it at once.'

'Then you shall, my dove, for it is swiftly told.' Tearing a bit of bread from the flat loaf, he dipped it into the sweetened almond milk and chewed thoughtfully for a moment, before saying, 'You see, it came to me that no one chases mice-it is an impossible business. What do we do instead?' He paused to allow his listeners to appreciate his subtlety. 'We set a trap.'

'Yes,' agreed Cait, waiting for the prince to expound his philosophy.

'You are saying,' mused an unimpressed Rognvald, 'that we set a trap for this bandit, Ali Waqqar. We would still have to find him first-would we not?'

Prince Hasan smiled as if at an unenlightened child. 'But we do not go out searching for mice. In fact, they find us, do they not? All we have to do is dangle the bait in the right place and, praise Allah, the rogue of a bandit will come to us. It will, I believe, save a great deal of time and effort.'

'If Ali Waqqar is as cunning as you suggest, he may not care to risk the trap.'

'Ah,' said the prince, raising a finger in triumph, 'if the bait is irresistible enough, even the most wily mouse will risk the trap.' He smiled expansively. 'I will simply make the bait so enticing that Ali Waqqar will have no choice. Then, when we have him where we want him, he will have no choice but to surrender Alethea.'

'That will work,' Cait said hopefully. 'Do you not think so, Rognvald?'

'Oh, indeed, my lady,' he answered stiffly. 'Ask any ratcatcher.' He sipped the warming apple drink, and regarded the splendidly pleased prince for a moment before saying, 'Tell us more about this trap of yours.'

'As you know, it is my belief that the bandits will try to sell Alethea in the slave markets of Al-Andalus-most likely in Balansiyya, or Mayurika. Forgive me, Ketmia, but a young woman of your race would bring a very great price in Tunis, Monastir, or Rabat. Naturally, the price would be even greater for a virgin. Prices in excess of thirty thousand dirhams are not unusual; and if the woman is truly beautiful, the price could easily climb to as much as fifty or sixty thousand dirhams.'

'I had no idea,' said Cait, a little awed by the exorbitant amount.

'Oh, yes,' Hasan assured her. 'And that is your sister's greatest protection. For the bandits are well aware of the value of a fair-faced virgin. Thus, we can be certain that your sister has not been harmed in any way. As the poet says, "If evil is an oyster, hope is the pearl." You see? Even a brute like Ali Waqqar will want to make the best price, so he will take good care of her, believe me.'

'I pray you are right, Prince Hasan,' said Rognvald. 'Even so, I cannot see how this helps us to find Alethea.'

'Ah! Impatience often begets impetuosity, my lord. I am coming to it in good time. As you yourselves have seen, for brigands like Ali Waqqar these mountains provide countless hiding places; a man might search for a hundred years and never find his quarry. But settlements are few, and all of them are within easy reach of this fortress.