horses another day, and I alone will wait on the princess. When evening comes I will drug her, and two of your men will carry her to Baghdad to be sold as a slave. I will substitute the princess’s slave girl, Mai Tze, for the princess.”
“But will the slave girl cooperate with you?”
“If she wishes to live a long life, she will,” smiled Shannez. “And, Hassan, tell your men I want the princess sold unharmed. They are not to use her. Virgins bring a better price, and the higher the price, the greater their share. Have them sell her in the open market I will grind her pride to dust!
“The shah will wonder why the princess has no slave girl of her own. It was part of the agreement that she be allowed to keep her. I will tell him that the princess became angry with the girl’s insolence and, not wishing to trouble the shah, sold her.”
At dawn the Chinese departed for their own country, and Princess Plum Jade and Mai Tze were left alone with the Persians. Shannez gently insisted that they spend a quiet day in preparation for the long trip ahead. To facilitate this, the concubine played soft songs on a lute and even brought the princess’s meals with her own hands.
Night fell, and the shah’s mistress suggested that Plum Jade try a cup of warmed goat’s milk. It would help her to sleep, and the shah frequently enjoyed it, she said. The princess thought the goat’s milk revolting, but drank it all and soon fell into a deep sleep. Mai Tze, who had also been allowed to partake of the liquid, slept, too.
Several weeks later, Hadji Bey passed an open slave market in the city of Baghdad. This was the furthest afield he had come in his search, and he was becoming discouraged. He had visited every good slave merchant in the city but had not found what he was looking for. There had been many lovely maidens, but none had the qualities of spirit, beauty, and intelligence which he sought
Now something caught his eye on the raised platform. A girl—naked and dirty—crouched in a corner attempting to cover herself with her long hair. He stopped and stared. Aware of his close scrutiny, she shot him a look of defiance.
Hadji Bey signaled the slave master and pointed. “That girl. How much?”
The slaver forced Plum Jade up. “A rare flower from the ancient land of Cathay, my noble lord.” His hand cupped a firm, pear-shaped breast “A virgin. Fresh and nubile.”
“Stop fondling the girl and tell me the price you have put on her,” said Hadji Bey.
“Fifty dinars—gold. I bought her months ago from a caravan and paid a pretty penny. Fifty gold dinars, my lord.”
“He bought me three days ago from two soldiers who kidnapped me, and he paid them twenty dinars,” spoke the girl.
The slave master shot her a furious look.
“Thirty dinars,” said Hadji Bey, counting the coins out and dropping them into the man’s outstretched hand.
Pocketing his gain, the merchant shoved Plum Jade at Hadji Bey. “Go to your master, girl.”
She turned on him and raked him with her nails. “Do not touch me again, you foul vermin!”
Hadji Bey put an arm around the girl. “Gently, my daughter. Your ordeal is over.” Then, to the merchant, “Give me her clothes. She has been shamed enough and must not walk through the streets naked.”
The slave master reached into a trunk on the platform and drew out some shoddy rags.
“Thief,” screamed Plum Jade. “Where is my silk robe?”
Hadji Bey firmly pushed the man aside and, reacting into the trunk, withdrew the yellow-and-white silk robe. The girl snatched it and put it on.
As he led her away, he said, “Tell me your name, my child.”
“I am Princess Plum Jade of China.”
“I shall call you Zuleika.”
She looked at him.
“Zuleika,” he said quietly, “was a great warrior princess.”
“And so,” said Zuleika, “we returned to Damascus to fetch Firousi, heard about you, and hurried here to Crete.”
Janet stared at her two companions. “Are you sure
“But will the slave girl cooperate with you?”
“If she wishes to live a long life, she will,” smiled Shannez. “And, Hassan, tell your men I want the princess sold unharmed. They are not to use her. Virgins bring a better price, and the higher the price, the greater their share. Have them sell her in the open market I will grind her pride to dust!
“The shah will wonder why the princess has no slave girl of her own. It was part of the agreement that she be allowed to keep her. I will tell him that the princess became angry with the girl’s insolence and, not wishing to trouble the shah, sold her.”
At dawn the Chinese departed for their own country, and Princess Plum Jade and Mai Tze were left alone with the Persians. Shannez gently insisted that they spend a quiet day in preparation for the long trip ahead. To facilitate this, the concubine played soft songs on a lute and even brought the princess’s meals with her own hands.
Night fell, and the shah’s mistress suggested that Plum Jade try a cup of warmed goat’s milk. It would help her to sleep, and the shah frequently enjoyed it, she said. The princess thought the goat’s milk revolting, but drank it all and soon fell into a deep sleep. Mai Tze, who had also been allowed to partake of the liquid, slept, too.
Several weeks later, Hadji Bey passed an open slave market in the city of Baghdad. This was the furthest afield he had come in his search, and he was becoming discouraged. He had visited every good slave merchant in the city but had not found what he was looking for. There had been many lovely maidens, but none had the qualities of spirit, beauty, and intelligence which he sought
Now something caught his eye on the raised platform. A girl—naked and dirty—crouched in a corner attempting to cover herself with her long hair. He stopped and stared. Aware of his close scrutiny, she shot him a look of defiance.
Hadji Bey signaled the slave master and pointed. “That girl. How much?”
The slaver forced Plum Jade up. “A rare flower from the ancient land of Cathay, my noble lord.” His hand cupped a firm, pear-shaped breast “A virgin. Fresh and nubile.”
“Stop fondling the girl and tell me the price you have put on her,” said Hadji Bey.
“Fifty dinars—gold. I bought her months ago from a caravan and paid a pretty penny. Fifty gold dinars, my lord.”
“He bought me three days ago from two soldiers who kidnapped me, and he paid them twenty dinars,” spoke the girl.
The slave master shot her a furious look.
“Thirty dinars,” said Hadji Bey, counting the coins out and dropping them into the man’s outstretched hand.
Pocketing his gain, the merchant shoved Plum Jade at Hadji Bey. “Go to your master, girl.”
She turned on him and raked him with her nails. “Do not touch me again, you foul vermin!”
Hadji Bey put an arm around the girl. “Gently, my daughter. Your ordeal is over.” Then, to the merchant, “Give me her clothes. She has been shamed enough and must not walk through the streets naked.”
The slave master reached into a trunk on the platform and drew out some shoddy rags.
“Thief,” screamed Plum Jade. “Where is my silk robe?”
Hadji Bey firmly pushed the man aside and, reacting into the trunk, withdrew the yellow-and-white silk robe. The girl snatched it and put it on.
As he led her away, he said, “Tell me your name, my child.”
“I am Princess Plum Jade of China.”
“I shall call you Zuleika.”
She looked at him.
“Zuleika,” he said quietly, “was a great warrior princess.”
“And so,” said Zuleika, “we returned to Damascus to fetch Firousi, heard about you, and hurried here to Crete.”
Janet stared at her two companions. “Are you sure
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