Chapter 12
‘So, woman,’ the Chief of the Night said, ‘tell us: where were you all that time?’
Sinan looked round the crowded majlis. When he had first entered the room with Abu Abdallah, it had fallen silent – suddenly, deadly silent, as several dozen pairs of eyes turned to glare at him, the black intruder. Now it was silent once more. But this time the gaze of the room was on the slave-woman, and the silence was that of a held breath.
The woman’s outer robe was dusty and dishevelled, but she was decently veiled. And her head, covered by an elegant striped mandil, was high. She might have been a slave, but she held herself like a sultan’s consort. Sinan glanced at Abu Abdallah, sitting beside him. His master was staring at the woman, his mouth slightly open.
The lips moved beneath the
