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“Yes. She tells me the Earl of Clare is not in Naples, and she wants the viper pricked closer to his nest.”

“I cannot think it is wise, highness.”

Kamal heard a reproof in his minister’s voice. “She asks me to lead a raid on another of the earl’s ships.” Hassan was silent, and Kamal, as if in argument with himself, said loudly, “I have promised her vengeance. See that we discover the next Parese ship to sail.”

“It is your judgment,” Hassan said quietly.

Kamal stared down at his hands, not raising his head to Hassan. “We will bring the men aboard here and keep them until the Earl of Clare shows his hand.”

“You mix wisdom with folly,” Hassan said. “The Earl of Clare will know within the week that the Barbary pirates took his ship.”

“Yes, he will know.”

“And he will have to act. It is possible, highness, that he will come here.”

“Perhaps. If he does, I will hold him for my mother’s return.”

Hassan plucked a bit of lint from his red brocade robe. “A woman’s vengeance. It is a terrible thing, and yet so much can provoke it, things that none of us understand.”

“You speak in riddles, Hassan.”

“It is not my intention, highness. Your mother’s letter said that the Earl of Clare had not arrived in Naples. I do not believe that can be true. A man does not allow his possessions to be seized without taking action.”

“Still, he is not there.”

“Another must be, another acting for him. A man as powerful as the earl is not foolish or stupid. He would not walk into a trap.”

“You believe my mother is in danger?”

“No, and neither is the earl, at least for the moment. I wonder if the captain of the ship you will seize will know what happened twenty-five years ago to your mother. Treachery has a way of staying alive.”

“As does the desire for vengeance.”

Hassan turned away, stretching his stiff shoulders, and plucked a red bloom from an oleander.

Kamal smiled, watching him sniff in the sweet scent. “A woman smells sweeter, Hassan. You are not that old.”

“I am too old for a woman’s sweet scent and her wiles. A woman’s mind dances in circles that confound me. A woman’s lust makes me shrivel now.”

“Lust?” Kamal shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder if their lust is not but pretense, meant to make our own minds dance in circles.”

“What else can a woman do? If she does not have the skill to control a man, she has nothing. I have seen a man’s lust rule him, but never a woman’s. A man feels lust; a woman uses it to her own advantage. A man walks a fine line.”

“Be he Muslim or European?”

“Your blood and your European education did not prepare you to treat women as would a Muslim. You find them boring, their minds and conversation childish. You must accept what they are, highness, not what you would like them to be. Your Elena would make you an acceptable wife. And if she displeased you, you would simply divorce her. It is what a Muslim would do.”

Kamal sighed. “It is not easy for me, Hassan. You see, I do not trust Elena.”

“Trust a woman? Only a fool would do so, highness. What has trust to do with a man’s children? A woman gives you sons, and it is their trust that is yours. No, highness, no woman is to be trusted, even a mother.”

The moon dipped suddenly behind a cloud and Kamal could not see Hassan’s eyes. He heard movement behind the walled garden. Soon three of his Turkish soldiers came into view. He turned from Hassan to speak to them.

“Ho, highness,” Droso called down now. “The watch has spotted a Parese ship, the Heliotrope. She’s heavily loaded.”

The Heliotrope was sailing from the West Indies, Kamal knew, carrying sugar, rum, and tobacco. He caught his shirt from Ali and pulled it over his head.

“Is she alone, Droso?” Kamal called up as he fastened his wide leather belt about his waist.


Tags: Catherine Coulter Devil Historical