Napoleon opened his eyes immediately upon hearing Marie's movement as she rose from the sofa preparing to leave. He lifted his head, winking at her, taking a moment to admire her shapely body; watching her blush as she smiled at him.
"Mmmm" he moaned quietly once she was gone." Man, he loved blonds...but then again he loved brunettes, redheads. "Nah" he said out loud. He just adored women.
The smell of them, their touch, their smiles, eyes, just the whole package. They helped to assuage the loneliness in his life, as they filled the void a night at a time that had been left by his Clara.
No woman cold ever take the place of his lost love, and each woman that he was intimate with served as only a temporary reminder that he was human. It wasn't love, and knew that it was shallow on his part to go from one woman's bed to another, but he needed at least that.
He would often joke with Illya about having it...the it that women wanted, but that it was driven by a neediness in him, just to feel alive sometimes; if just through that brief moment of mutual pleasure.
Napoleon craved a family, and a home but knew that just wasn't in the cards for him, even if he lived long enough to retire from section II in theory to replace Alexander Waverly someday; he knew the job would not permit him such luxuries.
No, his little dalliances with the ladies would have to suffice. Women enjoyed his affections and much as he enjoyed theirs and there was nothing wrong with that, it was real, if not brief to hold on to.
Illya once remarked that they had each other...if he didn't find the Russian; there wouldn't even be that. He couldn't fail, no he couldn't lose Illya...Clara, the love of his life and the Illya who had become his best friend. He withstood losing one, but could he take losing both?He had made a promise not to ever be close to someone again after losing his best friend Scotty Bob during the war in Korea, but he broke that promise, letting the Russian into his heart as his best friend.*
He looked at the beautiful blond Narcissus laying in the bed beside him, and found himself now suddenly repulsed by her. That begin the case; he knew that his infatuation with her was over as he had made his conquest. She was only the enemy now, unlike her co-worker Angelique, she was another long and on-going story.
"Come on Sleeping Beauty, time to wake up." He said sarcastically, poking a finger into her ribs. Unlike U.N.C.L.E. agents who were trained to react defensively at a mere touch; Narcissus barely stirred.
"WAKE UP."
He swore he heard a growl from the woman as her free hand came flying at him, but he caught her by the wrist before she could deliver the slap to his face.
"You shot me, you cad!"
"I gave you fair warning. And I am not a cad." He smiled at her as her walked to the other side of the bed, unlocking the handcuffs. "Now get up and get dressed, it's time to leave."
"I'm not going anywhere with you. I want you to release me, I've done nothing wrong.
"NOTHING WRONG?" He suddenly raised his voice at her. "You get my partner sold into slavery and you say you've done nothing wrong? I swear to you that if any harm has come to him you will pay and pay dearly Narcissus. As a rule, I don't hurt women, but with you I will make an exception."
"Oh so your little lamb was sold enh?" She laughed out loud at him.
"Good I'm glad! All you ridiculous U.N.C.L.E. agents deserve that...a fate worse than death. Shame I didn't get to see it happen to the great Illya Kuryakin...such a delicious thought that he's now a lowly slave! You know you're never going to see him again!" She tried taunting him but he wasn't being lured into her game.
"If you don't cooperate then I'll drag you out to the desert, leave you where I found you and you can fry. Just think what that sand and sun will do to that lovely skin of yours, much less your hair?"
"I am right about you being a cad," she mumbled as she grabbed her dress, pulling it over her head. "Can I at least have a moment in the bathroom?"
"Of course you can, but leave the door open and don't try anything." Even after her taunting he was still the gentleman.
"You're a disgusting pig."
"I've been told that too." He answered her nonchalantly while changing back into his own clothing.
There was a light rap at the door before Karim entered carrying a tray of fruit, yogurts and mint tea.
"I bring my master's apologies, but he will not be here to greet you this morning as he has business matters to attend to. He said that you are most welcome to stay longer if you wish and to offer you any assistance if you are in need of it."
Narcissus reappeared, looking a little more refreshed with her hair knotted up on top of her head in a bun.
"Ugh, food? Can we at least eat before you tear off in search of your lost lamb?" She eyed the tea, now moaning. "Don't you people drink anything else beside that mint tea, no coffee?"
"I can have it prepared for you if you like." Karim said.
"No, the tea will do just fine, thank you." Napoleon intervened. "Karim we will need a little help getting back to my jeep and I'm sure it'll need cleaning up from the storm. I left it by the eastern gate. Could you help guide us back there?"
"It would by my pleasure Effendi." Being ever polite, he smiled with a bow then disappeared again out the door.
After Napoleon indulged Narcissus allowing her to eat, he realized that she was trying to toy with him as he watched her slide a slice of melon seductively between her lips.
"I can't believe I'm going to say this but, give it a rest."
'Huh!" She turned her head away from him, feigning her annoyance.
"Enough, let's go!" He grabbed her by the arm, pulling her up to her feet.
"Hey, take it easy! " she howled at him as she dug her heels into the carpet.
He didn't miss a beat, grabbing Narcissus flinging her up and over his shoulder, holding her behind the knees as he carried her out the door as she kicked and squealed.
"Put me down...you, you beast!" She shrieked as she pounded her fists against his back.
Karim followed a few steps behind, covering his mouth with his hand as he hid his smile.
Once outside in the street Napoleon put Narcissus down, keeping a tight hold of her while he handcuffed her to his wrist, then tossed the hijab at her, hitting her in the face with it. She wrapped it around her head in a huff, turning her eyes from him, but to his relief saying nothing.
As long as they had been wandering the streets on the previous day, Karim managed to take them to the gate where the car was parked in a quarter of that time. The boy swept the sand from the interior, insisting that he complete the task alone.
"Thank you Karim for all your help and thank your master again for his generosity." With that Napoleon saluted the boy, then took off in the jeep with Narcissus now handcuffed to her seat beside him.
He followed the directions to the Ourika Valley that Marie had given him. By his reckoning it would at least a day maybe longer, given the conditions of the roads from the previous days' sandstorm.
.
Illya was brought by Naser along with several other slaves to the banquet hall. They too attired in more formal clothing, covering their usually nude torsos.
They were directed to the house Steward who gave his instructions as how to serve the guests, cautioning the slaves to avert their eyes, and to say nothing.
Illya was specifically cautioned not to speak up if harsh words were directed to him by anyone or all the slaves would suffer for his insolence...apparently word had spread about his bold temperament.
They were handed trays of food, carrying them carefully to the low table; seated it at it, nearly twenty men including the Sheik.
As Illya passed the far side of the table he glanced at the faces of the guests, even though he had been told not to do so. A number of them were not Arabic and he surmised that he would soon be called upon to translate.
Suddenly a foot shot out in front of him, Ahmed trying to trip him into falling with the food tray. This would cause embarrassment to the Master and would bring punishment.
But the wily Russian caught the movement and dodged it without so much as missing a step. That did not make Ahmed happy.
"Ilyãs." The Master called to him, clapping his hands. The Sheik sat in his cushions, a gold turban on his head and clothed in a royal blue robe, layered regally over the golden ones Illya had seen him dressed in earlier. "This man is from the Island of Rhodes, do you speak his language?" The Sheik pointed to the rather European-looking man seated at his right.
"Yes, Master. They use Greek, Italian, Turkish, and German there...I speak all four of those languages."
The Mahdi smiled. " Good, tell him I welcome him to my home, as he is a new suitor for my daughter's hand"
"Yes Master," Illya bowed, " but first I must determine which language he speaks. He said that, suspecting the man was not a native to the island as he bore no physical characteristics to the people there who were mainly Greek.
"Mitáe elliniká_do you speak Greek?" He asked the man, then receiving no response, he continued with the other languages. "Parli Italiano signor? Efendim, Türkiçe konusabiliyour musunuz? Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" The last one, German, caught the man's attention.
"Ja, ish spreche Deutsch."
Illya felt uneasy when he heard the man's voice, as it made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He suddenly had a strange feeling, one that Napoleon would call a gut instinct.
"Mein Meister heißt sie herzlich wilkommenin seine heimat_my master bids you welcome to his home."
"Dankt ihr Master_give thanks to your master. I am looking forward to meeting his daughter and tell him that I will be his future son-in-law"
Illya nodded to the man, repeating the words in Arabic to the Sheik.
The Mahdi smiled but oddly. "We will see," he said, "but do not translate that Ilyãs, " he added. That left the Russian wondering what the Master was up to.
Once the banquet had concluded the Sheik rose with a flourished sweep of his robes from the table to a large ornately carved chair that had been placed atop a nearby platform. Then he clapped his hands.
Several women then appeared from behind a screen, one dark-haired beauty dressed richly in fine rose colored silks embroidered with silver and gold threads stepped forward, the lower portion of her face hidden beneath a thin veil.
Her eyes caught the Russian's attention. They were dark, a deep brown and almond-shaped and he felt his heart skip a beat. They reminded him of Katiya Revchnkov, his first lover's eyes ** as well as those of Anucis Sakr.*** Illya sighed, as he had a thing for eyes like that.
"Snimite eto mal'chik_take it down boy," he told himself. "Oh but those eyes?" He let himself fantasize for a moment then stopped, knowing he was being foolish. But then he noticed something else dazzling about her; she wore a silver necklace with three very large and familiar diamonds set in it and that brought another smile to his face.
"Ilyãs." The Master gestured to him, snapping he fingers for his slave to come to him.
"Yes Master?"
"You will translate for me, some of the suitors are from South Africa, Italy Spain and Germany."
"Welcome honored guests. Behold the prize, my beloved daughter A'lia a most rare and precious gem, a pearl beyond price and around her neck is her dowry, three flawless diamonds. The man who satisfies my condition with have her, the stones and much more."
It took Illya a few minutes to translate, then when he was done, the Master prepared to continue.
"What more riddles?" A past suitor interurrupted him, calling out in Arabic.
"Riddles?" Is that what you wish? I can give you a riddle." He laughed.
"Once there lived a rich man, and as he was getting old, he thought of passing his fortune to one of his two sons. So he held a camel race in which the one who's camel finished last, the one who was the slowest would win it's rider the father's fortunes."
"The two sons were confused. They roamed here, there with their camels but not reaching the finish line. Then they sought help from a wise man. He whispered something into each of their ears and as soon as the two finished listening; they jumped onto the camels and dashed towards the finish line. Now what did the wise man whisper to them?"
Illya smiled as he knew the answer instantly; then he began the arduous task of translating the riddle to the foreigners. Once he had finished, the guests rolled their eyes, thinking, puzzling as they stroked their chins and beards.
Kuryakin stole a quick glance at A'lia, who at that instant was staring at him and their eyes locked. He looked away, becoming concerned the girl would complain that he had not averted his eyes from her. Then for some reason he felt compelled to look again, this time he could see her smiling at him through her diaphanous veil, that made him blush in response.
"Well, has not one of you the answer?" The Sheik demanded.
Minutes passed but no one offered to solve the riddle. Then as commanded, Illya polled each man for his response, but each one was incorrect as he told the Master their answers.
Then one of the suitors complained there was no true answer to such a question and it was a trick since so many intelligent men could not answer it.
The Sheik looked at Illya. "Is that so? Then perhaps I will put the riddle to a lowly servant to see if he can answer." The Master directed Illya to respond; suspecting from his clever slave's smile, that he knew the correct answer.
"Yes Master. The wise man told them to switch the camels, therefore if one beat the other, he could prove that his own camel was the slowest."
The Sheik laughed out loud. "See even a mere slave could answer it!"
"Not fair!" They called out. "He probably knew the answer before hand!"
"Fair, you want fair?" I can give you that." The Mahdi said clapping his hands."But there will be a price to pay for fair."
Five servants appeared, each carrying a small casket, made of gold, silver, lead, stone and wood that the placed on a small table beside their master.
The man who chooses the correct casket, containing a quote from the Quran, will have my daughter's hand in marriage and all that I have promised, as well as my daughter's pledge of obedience to her husband."
"Just as men sought the hand of Portia, in The Merchant of Venice by choosing the correct casket, so shall you do so, as the casket containing the sacred text will bring you my daughter's hand in marriage, and all that I have promised."
"The man who chooses the right box will be my new son-in-law, but choose wisely for it will not be as in Shakespeare's play where in the failed suitors were sworn to never seek another bride. If you choose incorrectly today then your hand will be forfeit. That is my price."
Illya paused, somewhat shocked at the Sheik's proposal, then as he translated a murmur came from the men.
"How can you you ask such a thing of us?" One of them called out.
"Ah then only the most serious of suitors will then dare take my challenge. Who will be first?"
Illya called out the challenge in all the languages.
It seemed their ardor was somewhat cooled at the thought of losing a hand. Then finally the South African stepped forward. "I will try." Though the look of fear was evident in his eyes.
"Keizen_choose." Illya repeated in Dutch as the Master said it.
The man reached then hesitated, then reached again. He stopped a second time then finally chose the silver casket. He picked it up, opening it slowly, the look on his face gave everyone the answer.
"Take him away!" The Sheik commanded, as the man screamed begging for mercy.
No one dared step forward, not even the German that Illya had been suspicious of. The Master instructed his slave to end the suit, and that was when Illya acted, trusting his instincts. If he was wrong, then he would lose his hand, if not his life.
He stepped to the caskets, picking up the wooden one, calling out to the Sheik. "I choose this one!"
Ahmed lunged forward grabbing Illya, pounding him with his fists. "Infildel dog, you dare presume such an honor is yours!" His hand reached for his whip.
"No!" The other suitors cried out! "He has made the choice, and you said any man could choose! You must keep your own word! You are honor bound!"
The irony of the situation was not lost on them, as the thought that a slave could potentially marry the beautiful A'lia was a payback for the cruel caveat that the Sheik had placed upon the suitors.
"Stop!" Sheik Ali el-Mahdi Karmaj bellowed. He was angry at his new slave, but even angrier that he was being forced by his own word to let Ilyãs participate.
"Fine then, open it!" But if it is empty, then you die slave!"
Illya took a deep breath then slowly opened the wooden case, smiling as he sighed. He reached in withdrawing a bit of paper, reading aloud what was written on it.
"Men are in charge because Allah made men superior to women, therefore righteous women are devoutly obedient to men."
The suitors erupted in loud cheers and whoops as the Sheiks face reddened with anger. He reached out, snatching his daughter's delicate hand, placing it in Illya's palm with a look of disgust.
.
* ref "Brothers Old and New" ** ref "First Kill"
*** ref " The See the Pyramids Along the Nile Affair"