'Now then,' he leaned forward, grinning with wily exuberance, 'Ali and his band of thieves must obtain supplies from one settlement or another. I propose to send word throughout the realm that Prince Hasan wants to buy a white slave. We will say that I have grown bored and lonely on my mountaintop and wish to divert myself with a female slave-a luxury for which I am happy to pay sixty thousand silver dirhams.'

Hasan gave a little laugh and lay back. 'Then we simply sit back and wait for Ali Waqqar to come to collect his fee. And when he appears…' he clapped his hands together smartly, 'snap! We have him.'

'It is indeed an ingenious plan,' Cait granted. 'However, there is one thing which I question.'

'Only one?' muttered Rognvald sourly.

Ignoring him, Cait asked, 'How can we be certain Ali Waqqar is still in the region? He might be fleeing south even now. Would it not be wise to send men to search the southern trails? If what you say about the slave markets is true-and I do not doubt it-we might catch him along the way.'

'My thoughts exactly,5 agreed Rognvald. He tore off a bit of bread and popped it into his mouth. 'Assuming that it is Ali Waqqar, and assuming that he would be making for the coast, how do we know he is not hastening there even now?'

'My friends,' said Hasan, 'y°u do not know Ali Waqqar as I know him. He has long been a bane to me and to my people. We have suffered his thieving and plundering far too long. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to crush him like a worm beneath my heel.

'Perhaps, if I had been more vigilant in the past we might never have come to this difficult pass. But I have vowed before Almighty Allah, the Saviour of the Righteous, to bring a swift end to this brigand's predation, and restore your sister to her rightful place.'

Stretching his hand towards Cait, who grasped it with unseemly alacrity-so it seemed to Rognvald-the prince said, 'My beautiful Ketmia, I could not endure the thought of seeing you bereft. To reunite you and your loving sister-that has now become the pure flame of my ambition.'

Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed it. 'By the will of Allah, I shall not rest until I have brought about this reunion.'

Rognvald watched this immodest display through narrowed eyes; but Cait, much taken with the prince already, found her heart beating a little more quickly for his promises. Unable to stomach any more, Rognvald rose and, begging the prince's pardon, took his leave saying that he wished to see to his men. 'I want to be ready to ride out as soon as a break in the storm permits,' he said.

Rising, he acknowledged the prince with a bow, then turned and strode quickly from the room-almost colliding with Jubayar, who was lurking at the door. Cait watched the tall knight depart, before turning to Prince Hasan to apologize. 'I pray you forgive Lord Rognvald, my lord. He seems to have forgotten himself since coming here.'

'Ah, well, as the poet says, "Warriors, like swords, grow dull with neglect." All men of action feel inactivity an onerous burden. No doubt he will feel more at ease when he can return to the saddle.'

'You are too kind, my lord prince.'

'If I am, it is your good influence upon me.' He kissed her hand again. 'You inspire me to greater virtue, and I am happy to be so inspired.'

They spent the rest of the morning together; the prince showed Cait through various chambers, halls, courts, and quarters, each more sumptuous than the last with rare woods carved and inlaid in fantastically intricate patterns, and fine coloured marble. In some, the walls were smooth-plastered, and painted with rich, glowing colours; in others, the walls were decorated with ornate and costly tiles; some had windows fitted with triangles of coloured glass, and others with grills of carved wood or stone.

Some of the rooms were spacious and grand, while others were intimate as bedchambers; whether large or small, however, the rooms were immaculate in cleanliness and conception, revealing the full splendour of the intellect that had created them. Each room was named, and the names were wondrous, too: Zaffira, Caravanserai, Ivory Court, the Ladies' Tower, Red Sirocco, and one called Evening Narjis – where the deep-coloured tiles reminded Cait of a peacock's feathers, and so instantly it became the Peacock Room.

As they went on, Cait could not help but notice that the rooms, although exquisite to the tiniest detail, were uniformly devoid of furniture. After viewing one barren expanse after another, her curiosity grew unbearable. 'Truly, I have never seen such a wealth of magnificence. Yet, I cannot help wondering where all the furnishings have gone?'

Prince Hasan put his head back and laughed, the sound of his voice full and deep. 'Oh, Ketmia, you are a very marvel of practicality. Yes, the rooms are bare until the moment when I decide which shall be occupied and for what purpose. Then, the things I require are brought by my servants and arranged as need dictates.'

Cait thought this practice highly resourceful, and expressed such delight at the ingenuity of it that Prince Hasan said, 'Allow me to demonstrate. Now then, of all the rooms you have seen so far, which do you favour?'

Cait was ready with her reply. 'Oh, it must be the Peacock Room. The colours are exquisite.'

The prince appeared pleased with the choice. 'Splendid! I knew you would choose that one; it is one of my special favorites, too. So! Tonight we will dine in the Peacock Room, you and I, and I will show you how this feat is accomplished.'

Cait spent the rest of the day examining the books in the prince's considerable collection. Obtained in various places throughout the Arab world, each one was bound in fine leather and, although written in the graceful, flowing Arabic script which Cait could not read, she enjoyed looking at the painted pictures which adorned page after page. One book contained scenes of life along the River Nile, the Great Mosq of Cairo, and the Sphinx-and this one she especially enjoyed.

'You like this book,' said Hasan, enjoying her delight. 'I can see it in your eyes.'

'Oh, yes, very much,' she said. 'You see, my father was once a guest of the Caliph of Cairo. He told me about it many times, and in these paintings I can see what he saw.'

'You love your father,' observed the prince. 'I can hear it in your voice when you speak of him.'

'I did, yes. He was a fine man. He is dead now, and I cherish his memory. It is the most precious thing I own.'

'Then you must have this book so you can look at it whenever you like and remember him in a happier time.'

'Oh, but I could not -' Cait protested. 'A book like this-I have never seen the like. It must have cost a fortune. I could never accept such a costly gift. I have nothing to give you in return.'

Prince Hasan closed the leather-bound book and placed it in her hands.

'Darling Ketmia, if you only knew how much you have already given me. Please, accept it as but a small token of my great esteem and,' he gazed intently into her eyes, 'my even greater affection.'

Her heart, filled with tender thoughts of her father, the warmth of the prince's breathtaking generosity, and so many fragile emotions, overflowed in a sudden rush. 'Pray excuse me, lord,' she said, pushing the tears away, 'but it has been so long since anyone has treated me with such kindness and compassion.'

His gaze softened. Reaching a hand to her cheek, he said, 'Oh, my lovely Ketmia, you deserve nothing less. I would that I could give you such gifts always. For although we are but briefly met, I feel as if I have known you all my life.'

Flustered by this admission, Cait stood speechless. Grasping the book, she looked down and rubbed the fallen tears from the leather. In the end, she was saved having to answer the prince's declaration by the sound of a gong ringing in one of the antechambers.