Ianthe waved a hand dismissively. “Does not matter. That is where she would stay. At least at first.”
“How would you know that?” Sidroc asked.
“One of my shop assistants had a cousin who had been kidnapped by a tribe of Arab nomads at one time and ransomed for coin. She told us many stories.”
“And?” Sidroc prodded. Why had Ianthe waited until now to tell them this? Did she not realize that every bit of information was necessary for this mission to succeed?
“Even if the ad-Dawlah cousin plans to marry Drifa, she would first go to the harem where she would be prepared for marriage,” Ianthe explained. “That could take days or even weeks.”
Sidroc did not dare ask how she would be “prepared.” He had enough to worry about without that bound-to-be-alarming enlightenment. And in the back of his mind he had a picture of Drifa wearing the revealing harem garment he’d bought for her. For no logical reason, he did not want anyone else seeing her in that manner.
Drifa’s fourth guardsman, a mostly quiet, mid-aged man named Ulf, said, “As long as the princess is a virgin, she has naught to worry about. They will treat her with respect and gentle care.”
Ivar exchanged an accusing, horrified look with Sidroc.
Through a tight throat, Sidroc asked, “What happens to those women who are not virgins?”
“They do not marry them, that is for sure,” Ulf said. “They are either cast into a harem for life as a concubine, or they are sold on the slave market.”
Finn tilted his head and gazed at him with questioning eyes that asked, loud and clear, You didn’t, did you?
Oh, that was wonderful. Now Sidroc joined those who were weighted down with guilt.
“Once Gismun steals into the tent city and discovers Drifa’s whereabouts, I think I should slip into the harem tent, assuming that is where Drifa is located. With veils and such, and the protection of the Blessed Virgin, to whom I have been praying, I will not be recognized.” This from Ianthe, of course. “We must warn Drifa to be ready to escape on a moment’s notice.”
“I have an idea,” Finn said. “This particular ad-Dawlah is a noted horse breeder. I could locate where his herd of horses is being held and release them. That should create a furor calling all the men to help round them up, distracting attention away from the harem tent.”
“That sounds like a good plan, depending on what information Gismun brings back to us,” Sidroc said.
Everyone began talking at once then as they discussed the various paths this rescue might follow. ’Twas impossible to hear oneself think until Finn clapped his hands for attention.
“Just one question,” Finn said, a forefinger upraised. “Can I bring one of the harem girls back with me?”
They all laughed, assuming he was making a jest.
Sidroc hoped he was jesting.
In any case, a bit of humor was like sauce on a bad piece of meat. They needed to laugh, or else they would weep at the bad situation they were in.
What was it about men and virgins?
The first day, Queen Latifah stuck her grubby fingers up into Drifa’s female parts and announced with glee, “Not a virgin!”
Drifa didn’t know what outraged her more, that two males witnessed her humiliation, albeit eunuchs ordered to hold her down on the bed, or that the prince who proposed to marry her would allow his mother to go at her with such rough handling. The only thing that could be worse was if Bahir had stood there himself as witness.
Even so, Bahir was furious when he entered the harem tent, which was actually a series of interconnecting tents, containing everything from soft pallets for sleeping, to bathing chambers, to salons. A number of the concubines, some as young as thirteen, scurried out of the way of their storming master, no doubt having suffered from his fury in the past.
Stalking right up to her where she sat on the edge of the bed, her gown thankfully tugged back down, he yanked her to her feet by a pincer hold on her upper arms, then backhanded her so hard she fell back down. His ring had cut into her face and she felt the blood gather and leak down to her chin.
“You lying bitch!” he yelled in Greek.
“I never said I was a virgin. Mayhap you should have thought of that afore having me taken.” Sometimes Drifa did not know enough to keep her thoughts to herself.
“You dare to talk back to me?” he spat out and pulled her back up by her hair so that she stood so close to him she felt his spittle on her face. She had to turn her face to accommodate him or lose a hunk of hair. Even then, he slapped her other cheek. She would be black and blue afore morn. “You will pay, whore. You will pay.” He shoved her back down.
“You can always send me back,” she suggested. You better, because I swear I will put a dagger through your slimy heart eventually. A pitcher over the head would not be good enough for the likes of you.
“Never! You were brought here for a purpose and that purpose still exists.”