Hasan turned to his silent advisor. 'Did he leave any word?'

Halhuli shook his head. 'No, my lord.'

'I am sorry, Ketmia. Now you are angry and unhappy. What shall I do to cheer you?' He tapped his chin with a finger as if in thought. 'I know! The Winter Garden is ready now, and it is a rare delight. The day is fine; we will break our fast and then I shall take you for a walk in the garden.'

'Later, perhaps,' said Cait. 'I think I would like to go back to my room. Lord Rognvald's thoughtlessness and negligence has spoiled my appetite. I pray you will excuse me.'

She left then, lest the prince find some means of persuading her to stay. On the way to her quarters the realization struck her that her position had suddenly grown extremely precarious. She was all alone now, and there was no one she could trust, or turn to for help.

By the time she reached the women's quarters, however, the first fright at her predicament had passed; in its place had settled a cold determination not to allow the prince to work his devious will. The heat of righteous indignation fired her thoughts. And, by the time she reached the door to her room, she had remembered that there was someone she could trust to help her now: Danji.

Cait waited through the day for Danji to appear. By way of signs and gestures, and the repetition of Danji's name, she had at last brought Mahdi to comprehend something of the urgency and apprehension she felt. The handmaid went off on her secret errand and Cait settled back to wait. Tired from her restless night, she soon closed her eyes and descended into a fitful sleep, full of fragments of images and half-remembered dreams.

She stood again on the high cliffs above the little bay south of Banvard, alone, the sky filled with the cry of the gulls circling high overhead… dark stone buildings and green fields beyond, snug between heathered hills, a thin silvery thread of smoke rising to flatten on the wind from the sea… a tall figure dressed in black standing alone on the clifftop-Sydoni, grey hair combed by the wind, taking her by the hand and saying, 'Caitriona, dear heart, it is good to see you. I was hoping you would come and bid me farewell.'

Sydoni vanished, and Cait was outside the gate of the stronghold in the twilight. Abbot Emlyn was there, they were walking very quickly and he was talking to her, but she could not make out the words. And as they walked along she kept falling further and further behind. Desperate, she cried, 'Wait! Abbot Emlyn, wait for me!'

The kindly old abbot did not stop, but turned his head and called over his shoulder, 'Sanctus Clarus, Cait, remember. Sanctus Clarus -it is your birthright. One day, it will be your name.' And then she was alone once more. The walled stronghold was gone and she was alone with the night and the stars… and Mahdi's gentle touch.

'Ketmia?' Mahdi said, touching her lightly on the arm.

She came awake at once and looked around. The room was dark; the small round windows admitted no light. She had slept longer than she knew, and as she sat up she found her mouth was dry and her face was warm, her forehead slightly damp. 'Danji,' she said. 'Is Danji here?' She made motions with her hands to communicate her question.

The handmaiden understood and shook her head. In an effort to fight down the desperation she felt coiling like a serpent around her heart, Cait threw back the silk covering and rose from her bed. She moved to the door, opened it, and then stopped, realizing she did not know where she was going.

There was, she concluded, only one place to go.

Having decided, she walked quickly through the covered courtyard and out into the anteroom. Jubayar was nowhere to be seen, so she moved swiftly on lest her nerve desert her, composing her thoughts as she went. She would find Prince Hasan and confront him, demand the truth from him, and hold him to account.

By the time she reached the main corridor leading to the reception hall, she knew exactly what she wanted to say to the prince. It was Halhuli, the prince's overseer, she encountered first, however. She greeted him and asked whether he knew where Hasan might be found.

At the question, Cait saw a stiffness come into the servant's face. His eyes shifted away from her. 'I do not know, lady.'

'I must speak to him, Halhuli. It is important and there is no one else I can ask.'

'I must beg to be excused.' He turned to leave.

'No!' said Cait. 'Stop.' The force of her command caught and held him. 'Hear me, Halhuli. There is something wrong here-something very wrong. I will do all I can to see that it is put right, but I need your help.' She moved beside him. 'Please, Halhuli, help me.'

'I do not know what you are talking about. I am sorry.'

'I think you do, Halhuli. You know exactly what I am talking about.' He looked straight ahead, and said nothing. 'I can see that I am right,' Cait continued, softening her tone. 'I think you want to help me, but your loyalty to your master prevents you. I understand.'

'I am katib to the prince,' Halhuli told her. 'Like my father before me, and his father before him, we have served the House of Tashfin. I am my prince's to command,' he paused, and added, 'whether in honour, or dishonour.'

Cait pounced on the morsel he had given her. 'But if the prince is behaving dishonourably, then is it not the katib's duty to save his prince from the infamy and disgrace of his actions?'

Halhuli regarded her with deep, sad eyes, but remained silent.

'I know that if I had lost my way, I would want you to lead me back to the path of virtue.' In her pleading, Cait put her hand on the katib's arm. 'I do not ask you to do this for my sake, but for Hasan's. For, if the prince has strayed, who will rescue him if not his wise and loyal katib?'

Halhuli raised his eyes and regarded Cait for a long time. She could almost see the battle taking place within him. At last, he straightened, having made up his mind. 'Follow me. I will take you to him.'

He led her to a part of the al-qazr she had never seen before. The rooms were smaller, the walls thicker and far less ornate. They climbed a flight of stone steps to an upper floor where Halhuli stopped before a low wooden door. Cait put her hand to the iron ring, pulled up the latch, and would have pushed open the door, but Halhuli prevented her. 'May Allah forgive me,' he said, and pushed open the door himself.

There, in the centre of the room, lay Danji, shoulders bared and hands tied with cords of braided leather-prostrate before an enraged Prince Hasan who was using the other end of the braided cord as a lash to raise angry red welts on the delicate skin of her back.

As the door swung open, the prince glanced around, saw Halhuli and Caitriona standing in the doorway, and halted the beating. Danji lifted her head as the prince moved quickly towards the door. 'Ketmia,' he said, forcing a sickly smile, 'what are you doing here?'

He reached for Cait's arm, but she deftly sidestepped him, moving quickly to the injured woman. Raising her up, she tugged on the braided cord. Hasan made to take hold of her shoulder. 'Ketmia, you must not -'

'Or what?' demanded Cait, whirling on him. 'You will beat me, too?'

Prince Hasan started, the colour bleeding from his distraught features. 'You do not understand.'

'This is beneath you, my lord,' Cait told him, her voice shaking with fury. She bent once more to free Danji's hands. 'Perhaps Moors are permitted to whip their wives, but Christians detest the practice.'

'She is not my -'

'Save your lies,' Cait snapped. 'I know she is your wife.'

Prince Hasan swallowed hard; his hands fluttered towards the kneeling Danji as if he would appeal to her. She looked up at his face and said something in Arabic, which Cait took to be confirmation.