Of course there were no women, except for Juliet, who skulked around in the shadows, unobtrusively observing. Ross guessed that the ladies of the nayeb's harem were all wistfully watching the festivities from behind their latticed windows.
"Now it is time for the dancing," Abdul Samut Khan said with great anticipation. "You will sit with me in front." He had kept Ross close all night. It was an honor, of course, but also an effective way of ensuring that the ferengi did not take advantage of the confusion to try to escape. To underline the point, Yawer Shahid Mahmud was never far away.
As the nayeb guided Ross through the amiable crowd, he murmured, "Even though I leave in the morning, it is not too late for you to change your mind about escape. I implore you, Lord Khilburn, heed my advice, for I cannot guarantee your safety while I am away. Tonight, when all is confusion, would be a perfect time to slip away."
His host was nothing if not persistent. Ross smiled gently. "It is good of you to be concerned for me, but you are the one going into war. Surely I will be in less peril than you."
Abdul Samut Khan scowled. "When I saw the amir today, he said you will no longer be allowed to have visitors. He does not wish you to become involved in treason while he is away."
"I see." Ross almost tripped over a tortoise with a small oil lamp on its back. A number of them were crawling about the quieter parts of the garden, illuminating the flowerbeds. He bent over and carefully shifted the creature to a safer spot. "Will I be confined to my rooms?"
There was a brief pause while the nayeb calculated whether there was any advantage in keeping the prisoner in closer confinement. "The amir wished that, but I spoke on your behalf and persuaded him to allow you to retain the freedom of the compound. Of course you will be guarded at all times."
"Of course."
They reached the roped-off square where the dancing would take place. A tent at one end housed the dancers, and soprano giggles could be heard coming from inside. Musicians were already playing and the night air throbbed with flutes and drums and stringed instruments that Ross could not identify. The music was passionate, with plaintive minor-key melodies weaving through deeper, earthier strains.
Abdul Samut Khan escorted his guest to the side of the dance floor where carpets and cushions had been laid on a dais for the most important guests. The other three sides of the square were filling with onlookers. Ross saw Juliet choose a spot directly opposite him. In her silence and dark veil, she seemed a specter at the feast, a reminder that this gaiety would soon be over.
He hoped that under her tagelmoust she was having a good time. It was a very decent party, if one could forget the fact that tonight might be their last night together. Just over twenty-four hours from now, they would make their hazardous attempt at escape. If anything went wrong, they might not live to see the next dawn.
Ross wrenched his gaze away from Juliet, suddenly impatient to be alone with her. He would watch enough of the dancing to satisfy his host, then excuse himself.
A shout went up from the onlookers as half a dozen dancers whirled onto the floor with snapping fingers and tinkling finger bells. Dancing boys were common, but these performers were women—lithe, voluptuous women, whose bodies moved in ways designed to rivet the attention of any normal man.
Vast expanses of golden skin were revealed by their colorful costumes, but their faces were covered with translucent veils through which soft features were dimly visible. To an Eastern audience, the display was as provocative as thinly veiled breasts would be to a European audience.
The first dance was slow, with each succeeding one a little faster. The swirling skirts and rolling hips of the dancers were an invitation as old as time. The crowd began clapping with the music, the noise adding a harsh urgency to the night.
With the fourth dance, the music changed and the lead dancer dropped to her knees. Pelvis grinding suggestively, she bent her shimmying body backward until her head brushed the floor.
Sight and sound had a primitive power that bypassed the mind and went directly to the blood. His breath quickening, Ross glanced across the floor and his gaze met Juliet's for a moment before two dancers came between them. He wanted to fulfill the pagan promise of the dance, but only Juliet could quench the fire in his veins.
When the lead dancer sprang to her feet again, Abdul Samut Khan beckoned her to come to him. She wove her way through the troupe, then dropped to the ground in front of the nayeb in a posture of deep submission. She was only a yard from Ross, so close he could have touched her sweat-sheened, lushly curved body. "Yes, master?" she said in a husky voice.
The nayeb gestured to Ross. "Here is the man of whom I spoke earlier."