Karim appeared a few moments later to escort them to a great room, the floors covered in lush Persian carpets, rich curtains, decorated with potted plants and beautifully detailed porcelain urns. In the center of the room was a large round intricately carved dark wood table, with a dark green leather top, It was set low to the ground, surrounded by sumptuous pillows and cushioned arm rests.
A richly dressed man wearing embroidered royal blue robes and a saffron colored turban on his head stepped from a side room.
"Marhaban_welcome, " he said holding his palm to his breast as he bowed slightly." A Salaam Alaikum_peace be upon you."
Solo spoke little Arabic, usually relying on his partner to act as translator, but he was aware of the proper response to such a reverent greeting. Tough he was for once not at a linguistic disadvantage without Illya as Morocco was a dual language country speaking both Arabic and French.
"Wa' alaikum salam, Säid Mustapha al-Hamza_and peace be upon you.
"Ah well met Napoleon, but I am at a disadvantage as my servant neglected to ask your last name."
"Solo, Napoleon Solo and this of course is my dear wife Narcissus. I'd like to thank you for the offer of hospitality. I hope that it's not an imposition."
"I am being what you are sure am familiar with, a good Samaritan. It is expected of a pious man to do such things, and one strived to be as such. Please I am being rude, be seated. I am sure you hunger and thirst? The sandstorm looks as though it will last for some time and we are well protected within and you are most welcome to take your refuge in my home. In the mean time, perhaps you can indulge me in some conversation?"
Napoleon and Narcissus made themselves comfortable sitting on their cushions and leaning upon the arm rests as a lovely blond servant girl brought them glasses of water with slices of lemon, then reappeared with trays of delectable foods, hot and cold salads to begin the meal followed by tagine, a slow-cooked stew with lamb, chicken and a medley of olive, apples pears, dates and nuts, but not with a complexity of spices.
Napoleon tasted hints of cinnamon, ginger, cumin and a bit of paprika, nodding his approval at the delicious flavor. The stew was followed by couscous, with spiced beef and vegetables, all served with bread as that was used in place of utensils to scoop up the food.
He carried on a conversation with their host, discussing air travel, answering the man's curious questions about the States and Europe, but none of the queries seemed out of place and for once Solo did not feel threatened. Regardless of his comfort level; he kept his guard up as a matter of habit.
Solo had cautioned Narcissus about keeping her mouth shut as in this sort of household a woman was seen and not heard. If she spoke out of turn, then she could end up insulting the host, and that was not a good thing to do, especially in the middle of a sandstorm.
He watched her as she struggled to do maneuver the bread, trying not to laugh at her and cautioned her with his eyes when she began to mumble about the lack of forks, spoons and knives.
The end of the meal was signalled with the desert, kaab el gzhal_gazelle's horn, a pastry stuffed with almond paste and covered with sugar.
The servant appeared, averting her eyes shyly as Solo smiled at her, bringing finger bowls and towels to wash and dry their hands and then time she carried in silver teapot with a long curved spout; the girl proceeded to pour them all glasses of mint tea in several steps, holding the teapot up high allowing bubbles and froth to form in the tea as that was how it was preferred in Morocco, accompanying the tea were hard sugar cones.
"So Monsieur Solo, what brings you to this part of Marrakesh, it is not exactly a tourist destination in this particular Kasbah," asked their host. One would think that the Kasbah of Ait Ben Haddou would be of more interest to a foreigner such as yourself."
"I'm not exactly here for pleasure, I'm actually in search of my, ugh...cousin who's recently gone missing. He's the scientific type so I'm concerned he might have gotten himself mixed up with an odd flock of people."
He pulled a photograph of Illya from his sleeve passing it to al-Hamza. The Säid studied it but gave no reaction that he had indeed seen the man on the auction block at Jemaa El-Fna. He thought it best not to tell the man his poor cousin was now a slave, and in this part of the world that meant he was as good as lost, forever.
"Ah Monsieur Solo that is indeed a difficult task, as once a man has disappeared, whether it is of his own volition or not, it will be difficult to locate him. Morocco has a habit of devouring such people..."
Al-Hamza handed the photograph to his blond servant to return to his guest; she glanced at it and from her reaction Napoleon knew that she'd seen Illya before, but now was not the time or place to question her.
"Narcissus...darling, you look pale. How is your headache, has it returned, my dearest?" Napoleon suddenly asked her.
"Headache...I don't..."
He cleared his throat then flashed her a look that told her not to answer otherwise.
"Oh yes, yes it's back again." she said slightly confused but following his prompt.
"Sir, if you would forgive us, but my wife is not feeling well."
"But of course, is there anything I can see to for her comfort?"
"No, she just needs to lay down for a bit. Se'hha, merci bien_ thank you, thank you very much again for the wonderful meal and your hospitality." Napoleon smiled.
"It has been my honor to assist you, please though I must insist that you and your wife spend the night, it is late and the storm has not ended; better you stay here until is subsides." He clapped his hands and Karim appeared, escorting them back to their room.
"Karim, what is the name of the blond girl who served our meal" Napoleon asked him discreetly.
"Oh that is Alumdulillah...what you say in English Marie. My master said that if you were interested, she would be sent to you."
Napoleon was taken back at that for a second, forgetting for the briefest moment that these people, though seemingly well treated were still slaves.
"Karim, how long have you been a slave?"
"Oh my master bought me when I was but a small child, having taken pity on my. I have long since repaid my purchase price and could have left, but the Säid is good to me...he gives me food, fine clothing and a beautiful home to live him, so I have remained as his loyal servant."
Napoleon nodded at that, then knowing he needed to to speak the girl, s he consented to her being sent to him. Karim acknowledged his request with out judgement, offering only a silent bow then left, closing the doors behind him.
"Alright Narcissus, take off your clothes and into bed with you." he said quickly.
"That's not a very romantic thing to say! And what if I say no?" she answered teasingly, obviously ready for more sex.
"Then I'll dart you, strip you myself and throw you in the bed."
"Mmmm, sounds kinky, when you put it that way." she laughed at him as she pulled off her dress, climbing into the bed, permitting herself to luxuriate it the soft Egyptian cotton sheets, stretching out with her arms letting them fall to reveal her breasts again to him.
Solo grabbed hold of one of her wrisst, handcuffing it to the bed frame, then covered her with the sheet.
"Eww I like it, now that's definitely kinky." she smiled.
"Sorry, I'm not into bondage. Now pretend you're asleep while I talk to the girl."
"Oh talk?" she pouted, "And I was hoping I could watch, maybe we could have a ménage à trois?"
By that point Napoleon had it with her, thinking that for a woman he at first had difficulty seducing; now she seemed to have nothing but sex on her mind. Had she not been Thrush and this been under the circumstances he could have enjoyed the possibilities, but not now."
He clicked his tongue, whispering the phrase he had already uttered once during this mission. "Not tonight Josephine," then he promptly shot her with a sleep dart, at least ensuring some peace for the night.
There was a soft rap at the door, and after calling entrez in French, Alumdulillah slipped quietly inside; she was dressed in a thinly veiled dress, barely covering her. She bowed her head, but glanced at Narcissus asleep in the big bed, then began to slowly disrobe.
"Non, arrêtez_no stop." Solo said, knowing that he would never take advantage of a woman this way.
"But I do not please you Monsieur? The master said that I was to give you what ever you wanted. If he finds out that I displeased you, then he will be very angry with me." She said beginning to weep.
He took her gently by the shoulders, stroking her hair, offering her comfort. "Look it will be our little secret n'est-ce pas?" He lifted her chin with his hand, looking into her eyes with a sigh.
"Maire, may I call you that, it's so much easier that Alumdulillah?"
"Ouis Monsieur."
"How did you come to be a slave, you're not...?"
"I was orphaned and raised by a Moroccan couple, they died and my father's brother could not marry me off; he sold me into slavery as he could not afford my up keep."
"No one would marry a girl like you?"
"I am ahlul kitah_Christian, Monsieur. But it is alright as the Master has promised to care for me and says he will free me if I desire to leave in two years time. He is a very good, caring man and so handsome as well..." she smiled innocently.
Napoleon shook his head, thinking this girl had her head in the clouds for that man that had just sent her off to be a sexual play thing for a guest.
"But Marie he's told you to pleasure me, is that a very caring thing for him to do?"
"Ah but it is different, as you and I are both are not in the same class as my master's people. To him it is not a sin asking such a thing of me as I am not of the faith."
Napoleon shook his head, not quite understanding the logic of it all.
"Marie, I have a very important question to ask you, the photograph of the blond man that I showed your master. You seemed to recognize him, is that so?"
"Ouis Monsieur. He was on the auction block as I was in the slave market at Jemaa El-Fna. He was sold to a very wealthy man, and was quite lucky to be sold, as he was considered to be too scrawny to be a good slave."
"The auctioneer was about to slit his throat when he spoke up, using many languages to coax someone into buying him. Sheik Ali el- Mahdi Karmaj bought him at great cost. Your friend seemed a very clever man."
"You don't know the half of it," he mumbled to himself, then returned his attention to the girl. "Do you know where this Sheik lives Marie?"
"Why yes Monsieur he lives in a great house, with magnificent gardens in the Ouriko Valley. It is in the foothills of the Atlas Mountains."
"Merci, mademoiselle. That is the best news I've heard in a while. Now why don't you to make yourself comfortable on the sofa and go to sleep? You're safe here, understand? And you can tell your master in the morning that you pleased me very well, and you won't be lying because you have." He gently tapped the end of her nose with his fingertip.
Napoleon lay down in bed beside Narcissus, keeping up the charade that they were husband and wife. Better not to let the girl become suspicious.
Then he sighed deeply; at least he knew that Illya was alive and now had a clue as to where he was. Though the idea of his friend having been sold into slavery weighed heavily upon him.
Illya had pulled a bold move that saved his own life, and now Solo only hoped that his friend would be alright and not do anything else bold enough to get himself killed before he could find him.