“Very well, sir,” the man answered obediently.
Benjamin entered the house cheerfully whistling a tune. Had he turned around, he would have seen the man spitting contemptuously in his direction before disappearing down the alleyway with astonishing alacrity. A few moments later, the supposed beggar was standing in front of the walls of the governor’s palace. He carefully peered in all directions and knocked on a narrow side door, which was immediately opened a crack.
“To the qaid, quickly!” he ordered the slave. “His Excellency is expecting me!”
“Daddy, Daddy! What did you bring us?” The two little boys came running across the riad’s courtyard and boisterously threw their arms around their father. Benjamin laughed, leaned forward, and picked them up, one in each arm. “Well, check inside my pocket, boys!”
He did not have to tell them twice. They squealed with excitement when they found two small horses carved in wood. “Wow, Daddy! Thank you!”
Benjamin looked around. “Where’s your mother?”
“Dunno,” said Tom.
“You mean ‘I don’t know,’” Benjamin corrected him.
“Mummy is gone!” Johnny shouted.
Benjamin frowned. “What do you mean? Nadira, where is your mistress?”
The servant stepped closer. “Mrs. Hopkins is not at home, sir. She has gone out.”
“Gone out? Where?”
“I do not know, sir.”
Benjamin scrutinized her ebony face.
Like hell you don’t, he thought. But Nadira silently stood her ground.
“Well, I’ll know soon enough.” He put his sons down and gave them each a pat on the bottom. “Run along and play, boys. But don’t throw the horses in the fishpond!”
He went to the stairs that led up to the living quarters. “I intend to take a bath,” he informed Nadira. “See to it that everything is made ready. And tell Firyal to bring me soap and towels.”
When the servant appeared bearing the requested items, clouds of steam were already wafting from the claw-footed porcelain tub in Benjamin’s bedroom. Just like his sundial and horse, the imported tub had caused quite a stir when it was unloaded in the harbor, but that did not bother him. He found the Arab custom of visiting a public bath unnatural—especially for a man. To avoid ever finding himself in that dreadful situation, he had had a cistern that always contained enough water for a bath installed on the roof of the house.
“Sayyid? Sir? Are you there?” Firyal called.
Benjamin stepped out from behind the screen. He was wearing nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist. “What took you so long? Don’t you like me anymore?”
“I do, sir.” She stood in the middle of the room, her head demurely bowed, pressing the towels against her chest. He was happy to see the little smile at the corners of her mouth and to think that she was looking forward to their rendezvous as much as he.
“Put that down and come here,” he commanded.
She obediently placed the towels and soap on a small stool and walked over to him. He looked at her silently. She was just a Negress, a former slave, but damn it, she was a hundred times more enticing than his wife!
With two fingers of one hand, he stroked the delicate, warm skin between her breasts. Next he placed both hands on her breasts. They were full and heavy and it aroused him to see them bob and sway under her cotton dress. He spread his fingers, kneading the soft flesh, pinching the nipples until they became hard and he felt his own pleasurable arousal.
“Did you close the door properly?” he asked her quietly.
“Yes, sir.” Her black eyes sparkled.
“I have brought some gifts.” He nodded to a dresser on which lay a small folded package of cloth and a pair of gold earrings.
“You are very generous, sir.” Firyal pressed herself against his hands. “Do you wish to bathe now or later? I think the water is still too hot. It should cool off a little.”
He grinned. “I need to do the same and you are going to help me do it, aren’t you, Firyal?”
In response, she felt for his towel and loosened the knot. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed her down. “Oh, you little hussy!” he panted hoarsely when he felt her mouth. “How I’ve missed you!”
“Harder! That’s better!” Benjamin sat up in the tub so Firyal could scrub his shoulders. “Ahh, yes, wonderful! You can’t imagine how much my back hurts after three weeks in the saddle and every night spent on those hard cots at the inns.”
“I’m sure it was very stressful, sir.” The servant set down the sponge and began lathering Benjamin’s wet hair.
“Make sure to use plenty of soap!” he ordered. “I feel as if the stench from the tanneries is clinging to me. If the fine ladies and gentlemen who wear boots and gloves made from my leather only knew how tanneries smell! The fires of hell could not be any worse! But no matter—I concluded some excellent deals.” He turned to Firyal. “Do you know what makes a good businessman?”
“No, sir. Please lean your head back now. I am going to wash out the soap.”
Benjamin carefully leaned back and continued. “A good businessman knows how to buy the best merchandise for the lowest price and to sell for the highest price. That is how I convinced my father-in-law of my qualities and I—what was that?” Benjamin sat up with a start. “Do you not hear it? What is that racket?”
“Yes, sir. It sounds like someone trying to kick in the front gate.”
Benjamin listened anxiously. There were crashing sounds coming from downstairs, a door slamming, men’s voices hollering commands. And in the middle of it, he could hear Nadira and his children, squealing and frightened.
“Damn it, what on earth? Are we being robbed?” Benjamin got up hastily, water dripping from his hair and running down his body. “Come on, hand me a towel!”
The servant fearfully reached for the towels. But when she heard heavy steps coming toward them up the stairs, she froze.
“Good God, are you stupid or what?” Benjamin ripped the towel out of her hands.
The bedroom door flew open and crashed against the wall. Firyal screamed. Benjamin dropped the towel and instinctively tried to cover his nakedness with his hands.
Not three yards from him stood a black man with a red tarboosh, white kaftan, and the scimitar of the sultan’s guards. His massive body filled the doorway. He scrutinized Benjamin with a stony expression.
“Benjamin Hopkins?”
“That is who I am. But who might you be and how dare you intrude here? I shall complain to the qaid personally!” Benjamin spat, determined not to be intimidated by the giant.
Instead of answering, the man stepped aside. Two others appeared behind him. Benjamin was speechless when he recognized them. One was Qaid Hash-Hash’s personal secretary, the other Nuri bin Kalil. The secretary was holding a scroll of paper, which he handed to the interpreter. Bin Kalil bowed to Benjamin. “Assalamu alaikum, Mr. Hopkins.”
“Bin Kalil!” Benjamin exclaimed. “What’s the meaning of this? Why do you dare intrude in my private rooms? And armed at that.”
He stepped out of the tub and leaned over to reach for a towel. The guard blocking the door placed his right hand on the handle of his scimitar. Benjamin flinched, but demanded, “Call off your dog, bin Kalil! Or is this your famous Arab hospitality?”
The interpreter gave a signal to the soldier, who took a step back. Benjamin wrapped himself in the towel as best he could.
Nuri bin Kalil unrolled the paper and a beautiful red seal became visible at the lower end. “Mr. Benjamin Hopkins, by order of His Imperial Majesty Sultan Moulay Abd al-Rahman, Imam of the all the Faithful, Ruler of Marrakesh, Fez, and the Sous Plain, you are hereby arrested for treason and fraud. The arrest is being carried out by His Excellency Qaid Hash-Hash. Until a verdict is pronounced, you will be held in the bastion of the Island of Mogador.”
Benjamin burst out laughing. “Treason? Fraud? Are you joking? Now I have really had enough of this spectacle. Get out, all of you! I shall inform the British consul general in Tangier of this outrageous violation, and you may rest assured that they will submit a formal diplomatic grievance!”
The guard grunted something in Arabic and Nuri bin Kalil nodded. Then he looked directly into Benjamin’s eyes.
“Put on some clothes, Mr. Hopkins, and come with us. If you resist, the guards will intervene. Believe me, it is better to follow the sultan’s command.”
Sibylla had bid farewell to André when they reached the alleyway. She was lost in thought as she walked toward her house and noticed the two guards at the gate only when she almost collided with them.
“What are you doing here?” she asked anxiously when they both stepped forward. “Let me by!”
Looking uncertain, the soldiers stepped aside.
“Hamid, who are these men?” she asked.
The gatekeeper shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “The Black Guards wanted to see the master. I had to let them in.”
Sibylla raced inside. The hallway was dark and empty. An indefinable sense of fear and apprehension came over her as she hurried to the courtyard. Nadira was standing in front of the water basin and had one arm protectively wrapped around each of the children. All three were looking up anxiously at the colonnade.