Sheikh's Castaway Read online

Page 13


  “The King had heard of the City of Gold as being situated on a far distant island, but he did not know where. But on an island not far away there was a shrine, and to that shrine, in a week’s time, would come pilgrims from all over the islands. The King offered to take Salik to the pilgrimage, in order that he might question the pilgrims about the City of Gold.

  “So Salik remained with the King until the time came, and then they set sail for the shrine. But as they voyaged, they passed an island on which stood a giant tree with a thick trunk and broad, low-hanging branches. Salik asked King Ashabi about the tree, but the King said, ‘We dare not approach closer, for there is a great whirlpool which lets go of no boat once it has been trapped.’ And just at that moment they felt the boat tremble beneath them; the whirlpool had captured the boat. As the boat was drawn into the vortex, it came closer and closer to the island and the giant tree. Salik was able to leap up and pull himself up into the branches of the tree. There he hid himself, watching the boat disappear into the whirlpool, and wondering what to do.

  “When night fell, a flock of giant rocs came to roost in the tree, and Salik discovered he could understand their speech. The rocs were discussing their activities of the day and their plans for the morrow. After some time, one of them said to the others, ‘Today I have feasted in the Golden City, and tomorrow I will do the same, for the gardens are so lush there I see no reason to travel further.’

  “Salik was elated to hear this, and when the rocs were fast asleep, he climbed up onto the back of the one who had spoken of the City of Gold, and hid himself in his feathers. In the morning the roc flew to the Golden City and alighted in a beautiful garden.

  “Salik slipped from his back undetected and wandered about the garden until he met two women. He asked them what the place was, and the women told him that it was the City of Gold, ruled by a fairy princess named Perizan for her sister, Queen Marifa, who was absent, and that they were the Queen’s gardeners.

  “They conducted the traveller to the palace and into the presence of the Princess, who asked him for his story. When he had told her everything, Princess Perizan said, ‘Your story interests me very much and I would like to know more. However, I must go with my women on a visit that cannot be delayed. I shall be away two days. You will be comfortable here in the palace—order whatever you wish. But on no account go into the Inner Pavilion.’

  “With that, Perizan and her women departed, leaving Salik to wander through the beautiful palace and its magnificent gardens. He was delighted, for the palace was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen, with pillars glittering with precious stones, and walls of beaten gold. In the gardens grew plants the like of which he had never seen, of enchanting beauty, visited by birds of brilliant hue and thrilling song. Whatever he asked for was brought to him instantly, and the food was flavoured with spices so delicious every meal was an enchantment.

  “But on the afternoon of the second day, as is the way of mortals, he began to wonder why the Princess had forbidden him the Inner Pavilion. And at length the young man’s curiosity overwhelmed him, and he made his way to the central courtyard of the palace, where the Inner Pavilion stood in its own lush garden, its golden dome glowing like a sun. Salik climbed the staircase and found himself on a broad terrace encircling a glittering pagoda that was composed of sweeping arches and the domed roof, all studded with mirrors and laced with gold. In the centre of the pagoda was an eight-sided chamber. And in one of the sides, Salik saw a door.

  “When he opened the door he found himself in a chamber even more beautifully and richly decorated than all that had preceded it. The walls glowed from the sparkle of a million diamonds, and were hung with pictures painted with rubies, emeralds, sapphires, turquoises, amethysts, and a strange jewel, black as ebony, that glittered like a serpent’s eye.

  “Eight arched windows carved into the domed roof let in a mysterious light that fell upon a divan resting upon a raised dais in the centre of the chamber. The divan was covered with magnificent cloth of gold embroidered all over with diamonds and pearls.

  “It covered the form of a beautiful woman, who lay absolutely still. Her black hair cascaded down behind her to the floor like a curtain, threaded with gold, in each curl a perfect pearl. In the centre of her forehead a large diamond on a band of woven gold seemed to capture all the mysterious light from the windows and send it flashing out to every corner of the chamber.

  “Salik shielded his eyes from the bright rays and, as if hypnotized, approached the sleeping woman to look down at her face. With amazed bewilderment, he beheld the form of his beloved, the Princess Zarsana, whom he had seen in the palace so many months before.

  “He called to her, but could not rouse her. Not knowing whether she was sleeping, dead, or merely an image, Salik wandered disconsolately out of the chamber to sit on the terrace overlooking the garden and consider, trying to make sense of what he had seen.

  “He looked down into the garden and discovered a lake he had not noticed before. Beside the lake was a magnificently caparisoned horse, whose coat was black as the night sky, bearing a richly jewelled saddle of red gold, but without a bridle. Blinking in wonderment, Salik descended into the garden and approached the horse. But when he tried to mount it, the horse kicked him, so hard that he was sent into the centre of the lake. Salik sank under the surface, and when he rose again, he discovered that he was in the lake of a garden in his own city.

  “Troubled and astonished, Salik emerged from the lake and left the garden. And as he walked the familiar streets, wondering what had happened to him and whether it had all been a dream, he heard the town crier beating the drum and announcing, ‘Whoever has seen the City of Gold will marry the Princess and become the Crown Prince.’

  “Immediately he went to the palace and said to the guards, ‘I have seen the Golden City. Take me to the King.’

  “The guards led Salik to the throne room, but when he was admitted to the King’s presence, the Cup Companions and courtiers and viziers at once began to cry, ‘This is the very villain who came before, and whom the Princess had thrown into the streets for his insolent lies!’ And the King, too, remembered him, and threatened him with severe punishment if Salik persisted in his falseness.

  “But, though frightened, Salik stood firm. ‘Take me to the Princess,’ he insisted, ‘and if she rejects me again, I accept death as my fit punishment.’

  “The King consulted with his viziers, but their advice was confused and contradictory, and for every one who advised one thing, another advised the opposite. And at last the King sent a message to the Princess Zarsana, who came to the throne room accompanied by her women.

  “‘Father, do you listen to more lies from such a rogue?’ she asked the King.

  “But Salik stepped forward and cried, ‘Tell me how it is that I saw your lifeless form in the Inner Pavilion of the palace of the Golden City, and yet see you here alive!’

  “Then the Princess smiled and, turning to the King again, said, ‘He speaks the truth, and he will be my husband. But he will not become Crown Prince here in your kingdom, for he must return with me and live forever in the City of Gold.

  “‘Know that my true name is Marifa. I am Queen in my own land, and in my absence my sister rules in my stead. I was cursed to be born among mortals and live as one of you until a mortal man should, for love of me, visit the Golden City and see my true form there. Now he will become one of us and rule my kingdom with me. And he will henceforth be called Asheq, for his love is true.’

  “And hard upon her words, the wonderful black horse flew in through one of the tall windows of the palace and came to rest in front of the Princess. Salik mounted the horse, with the Princess in front of him. And to the wonderment of all in the throne room, the horse mounted into the air and flew out of the window, all the way to the City of Gold.

  “Queen Marifa and King Asheq arrived in the City of Gold amid great rejoicing, and they ruled there for many years, and Allah sent them peace and
happiness.”

  Fourteen

  His voice faded into silence, and they lay without speaking for a long moment. Then Noor said, “Thank you, that was lovely,” in a drowsy, sensually charged voice, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world that Bari should lift his head and bend over her.

  Her hand was pressed against his naked chest, half in fear, as deep, urgent need flowed through her. She licked her lips and her eyes tried to pierce the darkness to see his expression. But the last glow of the fire was almost gone, and the first light of the moon had yet to make its appearance.

  “Noor,” he murmured, in a voice that melted her, and when he felt the long, responsive sigh, his mouth came down and brushed her eyelid and her cheek in a tender quest for her mouth. Noor sighed as his lips teased and nibbled and at last took possession of hers, and of their own accord her arms slipped up to encircle his neck.

  His hand pressed hard along the length of her back, and then he moved his fingers to the neckline of the jacket she wore, and slowly, expertly, began to unbutton it.

  It was dark, they were guided by touch and scent alone, but still she saw a golden glow as his hand found her breast, and then his mouth lifted and laid a tracery of kisses down her throat, and she responded with hot melting as his tongue tasted her skin.

  She kissed his neck, stroked his firmly muscled chest, cupped his head, feeling the silken curls cling around her fingers. Then her hand clenched as his touch shivered along her stomach and abdomen and he found his way unerringly to the nest of clustered nerves at her centre.

  Pleasure poured through her, as if liquid gold shot from his fingers, and Noor told him her delight with low, panting cries of gratitude and release. She reached for him then, her hand enclosing his aroused flesh, and gasped a little breath of hungry recognition.

  His skin was silken marble, warm and pulsing, and the cry that came from his throat was the sign of her female power, and melted her into fainting pleasure again. They stroked and pressed and kissed until the pleasure was like a madness. And then at last, with a rough groan, his hips slipped between her hungrily welcoming thighs, and his flesh into that place that had already become home to him.

  He rose up above her, and behind his head the moon also climbed, gilding their lair with white-gold fingers, brushing his velvet curls, her forehead, her ear, as he moved in her. And for both of them the light seemed to enter their bodies, liquid pleasure that built with each stroke of him inside her, till they were blinded by the brightness, burned by its heat.

  Then unbelievable pleasure forced its way through every vein, into every cell, and fountained up in her throat in a wild cry as free as the wildest animal’s call. Over and over, down and down and down, pounding, grinding, the mortar and pestle of their bodies breaking the fresh herb of passion to produce the pure essence, the pungent rich oil of deep, immeasurable ecstasy.

  The perfume of it burst through their being then, for they were in the world of separation no longer. “I love you,” they heard on the air, half fainting, not knowing whether it was her throat or his, or Love itself, that formed the words. And there was no duality, no past and future, no I and Thou; there was only the One.

  Bari stood at the water’s edge, watching the first rays of the sun divide the black of the sea from the black of the heavens.

  He was caught in his own trap. He had wanted to make her love him, and instead… He laughed in soundless mockery at his blind hubris. A woman like her, vital, beautiful, with a quick intelligence and a heart now revealed as good and true—how had he left his own heart out of his calculations? What arrogance had blinded him to his vulnerability?

  He loved her. Fire seemed to burn where his heart had once been, a fierce black fire that consumed him. What other woman would have responded to the test in such a way? She had been reluctant at first, but in the end her true worth had shone forth. Underneath that self-absorbed exterior that he had so arrogantly despised was a woman of enormous heart, of powerful courage, with wit and humour in the teeth of adversity…and with all that, she had imagination, vision, ingenuity.

  Now he had seen her true self, the human soul that had been disguised by the trappings of a too-easy life, by the tarnish of self-absorption. The circumstance he had helped to create had rubbed the tarnish away, and the precious metal glowed with its true colour.

  She was pure gold, and he felt now that the touchstone of his heart had always unconsciously known it. Like Salik in the story he had told her, he had seen the image, and had determined to find his true beloved and make her his own.

  How could he have imagined himself immune to her?

  He shook his head. He had told himself that Noor needed to have the veneer stripped away, but had ignored the fact of his own blindness. He too had needed a stripping away—he had needed to remove the cold reason by which he had judged her, and see her as his heart saw her. He had had to learn that he, too, had a heart. And that his heart was a better judge of truth than his intellect.

  She belonged to him. That was a central truth, flowing like golden lava from an eruption in his heart. He looked back on his grandfather’s command now as an impertinence. How had the old man dared to order Bari to love his own heart’s breath, his own life, his eyes? He felt now that even his grandfather’s wanting him to marry her was theft.

  What a fool he had been, risking everything in the madness of this enterprise! Could she love him now, when he had imposed such unnecessary suffering on her? When he had ranted at her, blamed her, and told her the great lie—that he did not love her? Would she ever understand that he had not known his own heart till now, but still had been driven by its dictates?

  Had she whispered her love last night, or had he dreamed it? He had cried his heart’s truth, and heard her cry in the same moment, and joy had flooded him till he nearly wept.

  But now he doubted. Had he only heard what he wished to hear, that simultaneous echo of his feelings?

  He had to get them off the island. He had delayed too long already. He had proved her over and over again, her strength, her soul, her courage—but had he made her love him, or hate him?

  He shook his head in weary resignation at his own stupidity. What woman would love a man who had reduced her to such circumstances? How had he imagined the great magic would occur here, where he offered her nothing but hunger and uncertainty and backbreaking work?

  Perhaps it had been his heart ruling him, even then. Faced with her determination not to marry him, offered the chance to keep her to himself, away from the world—had it been that?

  Such blind foolishness was over now. If only it were not too late.

  He lifted the object in his hand and turned a switch to test the function. A soft red glow told him that the machine was alive. He paused there for a moment, trying to foresee the consequences of this tiny movement of his thumb, but the future was blank. He could not see it.

  Still, it had to be done. Bari broke the wire and pressed the switch. There was no going back now. A helicopter would be scrambled within the hour. Depending on their position, rescue would probably arrive by midday.

  That would give him time, he hoped. Time to state his case, to learn if what he had heard in the night had been her own voice.

  “Wow, you’re really walking!”

  The sleepy voice came from behind him. He restrained the impulse to hide what he held, his heart sinking. “Walking?”

  “You’ve come a long way down the beach, you know. How does your leg feel?”

  “Oh—fine. Much better. Noor…”

  Sleepy, sensually drugged, Noor stood blinking in the glow of sunrise, trying to wake up. Bari had something bright yellow in his hand. It had an aerial and its red eye was flashing with life. Weird. Could a working mobile phone have washed in on the tide?

  “What’s that?”

  “Ah—”

  “Let me see?”

  She reached for the object, and with a kind of helpless resignation he let her take it from his hand.


  She read the letters stamped in the yellow plastic without comprehending for a moment, and then gasped. At once she was wide awake, adrenaline rushing through her.

  “My God, it’s an EPIRB! Where did it come from?”

  The jolt of excitement made her heart thump. Bari was still silent, and she looked up at him with a broad smile. “Is it transmitting? Do you think it came from the same ship that lost all that cargo? My God, what luck!”

  EPIRB meant Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon, she knew. Wherever it had come from, if it was indeed working, rescue wasn’t far off!

  Noor whooped with excitement, relief and sheer happiness. “They’ll track it! They’ll come, won’t they? How soon, do you think? I wonder what ship it’s from! Isn’t this amazing? Did it just arrive on the tide?”

  Her relief was tinged with just the lightest brush of disappointment. She had been happy here in a way she had never experienced in the outside world—the happiness of self-sufficiency and self-worth. And she had a sudden premonition that such happiness might not survive a return to the world. That what she had learned and decided here might not be sustainable in the whirl and pressure of that other life.

  Bari was gazing out over the water, curiously still.

  “Noor,” he said softly. “Noor, I—”

  “That’s funny,” she noticed absently. “The tide’s only just starting to come in. When did this thing land?”

  She peered at the yellow case in the early light. There was quite often an identifying label on an EPIRB, she knew from her yachting friends.

  Al Khalid. Aircraft call sign ISQ26. Aircraft registration…

  “What on earth—!”

  Noor’s eyes widened, narrowed, and then squeezed tightly shut, her face twisting into denial as she understood.

  “Is this—yours?” She opened her eyes again and gazed at him in disbelief.