Shadows in the Moonlight

He laughed, and his laughter was like the purr of a sword sliding from a silken sheath.

‘No, you will not drown, Olivia, daughter of confusion, for the marge is too shallow, and I can catch you before you can reach the deeps. You gave me a merry chase, by the gods, and all my men are far behind us. But there is no horse west of Vilayet that can distance Irem for long.’ He nodded at the tall, slender-legged desert stallion behind him.

‘Let me go!’ begged the girl, tears of despair staining her face. ‘Have I not suffered enough? Is there any humiliation, pain or degradation you have not heaped on me? How long must my torment last?’

‘As long as I find pleasure in your whimperings, your pleas, tears and writhings,’ he answered with a smile that would have seemed gentle to a stranger. ‘You are strangely virile, Olivia. I wonder if I shall ever weary of you, as I have always wearied of women before. You are ever fresh and unsullied, in spite of me. Each new day with you brings a new delight.

‘But come—let us return to Akif, where the people are still feting the conqueror of the miserable kozaki; while he, the conqueror, is engaged in recapturing a wretched fugitive, a foolish, lovely, idiotic runaway!’

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