Silver Angel by Johanna Lindsey Page A

cypress trees, lavish pavilions stood in readiness for any state occasion, and slaves bent over flower beds, toiling beneath the hot sun.
    The second court housed the offices of the palace officials and the council chambers where the Divan met several days each week. There foreign diplomats were entertained, the Dey’s sons were circumcised or his daughters married, and all ceremonies were performed. And from this courtyard was the iron-studded gate that led to the harem.
    Beyond the second court was another gate leading into a third courtyard, the one Derek was most familiar with. It was a more intimate garden with chestnut and medlar trees, and cypresses hung with ivy. The treasury was located there, as well as the throne room and the palace school. And through yet another gate were the richly tiled corridors leading to the Dey’s apartments, which abutted the harem.
    Omar took Derek instead through the heart of the palace, through a maze of corridors and chambers that skirted the domed kitchens, the baths, the harem, the courts, and finally led to the very corridor that the concubines used to reach the Dey’s apartments.
    At last they stopped before a large cedarwood door, flanked on each side by two stiff-backed Nubians. It was only because Derek was accompanied by the Grand Vizier himself that he hadn’t been detained at least twenty times by now by the army of guards they had passed at different points along the way, especially when he had remained hooded and with lowered head, a thoroughly suspicious-looking character.
    “I hope you have some password or the like to alert these fellows if all isn’t right,” Derek remarked thoughtfully before Omar could announce them.
    “You were searched for weapons before you entered the palace, weren’t you?”
    “Yes, but what if someone had found a way to get to one of your wives or children, and so coerced you into bringing them in here?”
    Omar chuckled. “There is indeed a signal that would have had you or anyone else beheaded in an instant, but I am glad that you are taking such an interest in our security measures. You must feel free to mention anything that concerns you.”
    A questioning brow rose. “Your family is protected? Killing the one who tells you your family is taken will not save your family.”
    Omar nodded. “My sons, my grandsons, my great-grandsons, all are as safe as it is possible to make them. My wives?” He shrugged fatalistically, though there was now a twinkle in his gray eyes. “It would be no great loss were anything to happen to them .”
    Derek suppressed a grin and nodded toward the door. “I suppose you have to announce me?”
    “It would be wise, unless you want his personal guards pouncing on you the moment you walk through the door.”
    “I think I can do without that,” Derek replied dryly.
    “Yes, it doesn’t pay to surprise the Dey, but nonetheless he will be surprised. With so many messengers killed, he had given up hope that one might reach you, Kasim.” At the sound of his name, Derek looked pointedly at the guards, but Omar shook his head.“Those who guard Jamil’s door are mutes, as are his personal guards.”
    Omar finally knocked on the door, then waited a full ten seconds before opening it and stepping inside, with Derek following close on his heels. It was a typical Eastern room, large and uncluttered. Finely sculpted onyx columns supported a ceiling that was painted with floral motifs. Stucco panels of floral and geometric designs alternated with bands of calligraphy on the walls. Carved grilles covered the windows but still allowed in ample light to flood the marble floor, in the center of which was set a magnificent mosaic of a hunting scene. What little furniture there was, a few low tables and a single tall cabinet against one wall, was inlaid with mother-of-pearl. There were no chairs or sofas to sit on, nor even a divan in this room, just a low dais strewn with pillows where the Dey was sprawled in