'There is good news,' said the prince, watching the dark wine splash into the golden cups. 'The storm abated somewhat at midday, so I was able to send Halhuli and some of my men to take word of my offer to the settlements. It will not be long, I think, before we hear word of his whereabouts.'

'Oh, that is good news. Thank you, my lord. I owe you a debt of gratitude.'

'It is my pleasure to serve you, my sweet Ketmia,' said Hasan, passing her a cup. 'Let us drink to a splendid and glorious future together.'

Cait accepted the cup without hesitation and thus began a night of such intimacy and tenderness that when she finally rose to return to her quarters, she felt as if she were leaving part of herself behind.

Now, in the thin morning light, as she lay in bed still floating on the ebullient tide of emotion, she experienced the first faint twinges of regret. Outside, the storm rampaged with renewed vigour. She could hear the gale-driven sleet and snow rattling against the windows, and the wind booming and bellowing as it hurled itself against the walls in waves like a raging ocean swell.

She pushed any thoughts of reproach or misgiving firmly aside and got out of bed. Her serving maids had risen and were waiting to dress her, and adorn her hair. When they were finished, she went out to find Rognvald to tell him that he need not worry about resuming the search.

She found him, along with Svein, Dag, Yngvar and the two Spanish knights hurrying across the snowy courtyard to the stables. They were dressed in heavy skins, wool, and leather, and carried bags of provisions on their backs. At her call, the tall knight sent the others on, and returned to hear what she had to say.

'The horses are saddled. We have provisions enough for three days on the trail. With God's help we will return before then.'

'But the storm still rages.'

'And it may continue for several more days before it is finished. We have already lost three days, we dare not waste any more.'

'There is no need,' she said lightly. 'The prince has already sent word to the settlements. We have only to wait and Ali Waqqar will soon bring Alethea to us.'

'I beg your pardon, my lady, but I do not think it wise to abandon the search.'

'Now you are just being stubborn,' she told him.

'And you are being gulled by a man used to having every whim satisfied,' he replied, straining to keep his tone even. 'Mark me, a dalliance with a man like Hasan can only end in misery.'

'How dare you come high-handed with me!' she charged, instantly furious with him. 'And I will thank you not to speak of our benefactor in that coarse and insinuating way.'

'Benefactor?' Rognvald dismissed the notion with a scornful laugh. 'That man only thinks to benefit himself. I should have thought a woman of your discernment would recognize a poisonous snake when she saw one.'

'Take that back!' she snapped. 'Hasan has treated me with more respect and esteem than any man I have ever met. He is a prince in both word and deed, and a nobleman worthy of the name.'

'Is he?' the knight challenged. 'Is he indeed? Then consider this: do you not think it strange how this noble man seems to know such a great deal about the price of slaves in Tunis?'

'What of that?' Cait countered waspishly. 'Even /know the ransom price of a pig-headed knight rescued from a Damascus prison.'

Rognvald glared at her, his mouth a firm, hard line, his blue eyes bright with cold fire.

'Nothing else to say, my lord?'

'Sneering does not become a lady.'

'Nor does petty spite and envy appear more seemly in a man,' she retorted. 'If you could keep your contemptible observations to yourself, I would count it a blessing.'

Still glaring, he made a curt bow. 'As you will. Pray give my regards to your prince; my men and I will resume the search for Abu and your sister.'

'Then go – for all the good it will do!'

He stepped quickly to the door and paused. 'I made a vow before God,' he said in solemn earnest, then hurried out into the storm.

Furious still, and determined not to allow him the satisfaction of the last word, she dashed to the open door and shouted after the swiftly retreating figure. 'Hasan is twice the man you are!'

Her words were lost in the rattling howl of the wind. Rognvald walked on, and the sleety snow soon took him from view. She turned to the door and, pushing with all her might, slammed it shut with a booming thump; the sound brought the two porters on the run. They admonished her in rapid Arabic, but she paid no heed and stalked off, leaving them to wipe up the puddle of melted sleet on the floor.

Seething inside, she stormed along the deserted corridors of the al-qazr, smacking her fist against the wall now and then, and cursing Rognvald's insufferable insolence. She swore on her soul that she had never known a more vexatious and annoying man.

She did not know which was the more irksome-the Norwegian lord himself, or the fact that, impudent as he undoubtedly was, he was also right: a dalliance with the prince could bring serious, not to say disastrous, consequences.

Not yet ready to admit as much, Cait dismissed the thought from her mind and made her way back to the women's quarters without pausing to summon Jubayar to escort her. Presently, she reached the covered courtyard and paused at the fountain to look at the water lilies and chide herself for being so angry with Rognvald.

She was gazing at her own glum reflection in the water when she heard the soft brush of a light step on the gallery above, and glanced up to see Hasan's sister Danji watching her intently. Forcing a smile, she raised her hand in greeting, and drew breath to speak. Before she could utter a word, however, the young woman silenced her with a frantic gesture, and motioned for her to come up on to the upper gallery.

Glancing around quickly to make certain they were unobserved, Cait hurried up the stairs only to find that Danji had moved on. She was standing a few paces away, and as Cait made to join her she disappeared through a door leading to one of the inner chambers. Uncertain what to do, Cait hesitated, and a moment later Danji's hand appeared, beckoning her on.

Cait hastened to the door, which was open, and stepped inside; the room was cold and dark, the only light coming from a small window covered by a heavy grill. With a look of intrigue that sent a quiver of complicity racing through Cait, the young woman pulled her into the room and closed the door behind her. She then moved to the window and motioned for Cait to follow.

'I must speak to you,' Danji said. 'But we must never be seen together.' Her voice trembled, but whether with fright or cold, Cait could not tell. 'Promise me you will tell no one.'

'You can speak Latin,' said Cait.

'You must promise,' Danji insisted. 'Now. This instant-or I will tell you nothing.'

'I do promise. I will tell no one what passes between us,' she agreed firmly.

'Very well. Do not think me unkind, but you must leave here at once. It is not safe.' She gripped Cait's arm for emphasis. 'You must believe me.'

'Why? What is wrong, Danji?'

Glancing around as if she feared they would be overheard, Danji shook her head. 'I can say no more.'

'Why must I leave?'

'You are in danger.' She edged closer to the door.

Cait held her. 'Tell me why? Where is the danger?'

'Please, I can say no more. He would kill me if he found out I spoke to you.' Danji moved quickly to the door.

Cait followed. 'Who?' she asked, but received no reply. Clearly she would get no more from the frightened woman this way, and decided to try another approach. 'No harm will come to you,' she said, trying to reassure her. 'I thought Hasan said you could not speak Latin.'

'Hasan says many things,' the young woman replied. 'He said also that I was his sister.'