Page 5 of The Viking’s Captive

“You could start a trend. Lucky for you, I know just where to gather a harem.”

“I’d wager a camel’s hump you do, you conniving scoundrel.”

“In Baghdad.”

“Aaaahhh! So that’s where this conversation is headed … as always. Home to the desert.”

“Truly, it is past time that we return to the warmer climes, oh, wise one.”

Rashid always threw in “oh, wise one” when he wanted something. His machinations were as transparent as Lady Eadyth’s wispy beekeeping garments.

“It is so cold and damp in this land that I swear I found mold betwixt my toes this morn. And there was frost on my nose, yea, there was, and it is only September. Mayhap you could accept the sultan’s offer of a small palace in Cairo in return for becoming his personal physician. And, of course, there would be a harem.” Rashid smiled widely, as if he’d just said something brilliant.

Adam glanced up from his work to see if Rashid was serious.

He was.

“I do not need a woman. I sure as bloody hell do not need a harem. And how many times do I have to tell you, I am not your master, Rashid?”

“As you say, master.”

“And we are not going back to the Eastlands anytime soon.”

Rashid scowled at being thwarted, but then tried a different approach. “A thousand pardons, master. Perchance you would not be so ill-tempered if your body humors were leveled out. Everyone knows that a man must empty his sacred vessel on occasion lest the biles rise in his body.”

Adam shook his head at Rashid’s persistence. He had a fair idea of what “sacred vessel” Rashid referred to, but, being a physician, he had to ask, “Which biles would those be?”

Rashid brightened, no doubt thinking that he was making some progress. He wasn’t. “The biles that create dark moods.”

“Rashid,” Adam said with a weary sigh, “I am not in a dark mood … especially not a dark mood caused by sexual deprivation.”

“Hah! You are always in a dark mood. The grooves betwixt your eyebrows have become a permanent fixture. You have set aside your fine apparel. The coins you earned on one battlefield or another have been stored away, along with the treasures given for your great medical achievements. And this home given to you by your adoptive father Selik is certainly dark and gloomy,” he said, waving a hand at their surroundings. “There is no gaiety in your life. What you need is gaiety.”

Adam’s lips twitched with suppressed mirth. “And that gaiety would come from … let me guess … a harem?”

“I knew you would agree with me.” Rashid puffed his chest out with self-satisfaction.

“I do not agree with you. Stop being unreasonable.”

Rashid unpuffed his chest. “You could start small, with one or two females. That would be reasonable. You wouldn’t need to have a full harem right away. You’ve heard of that famous Arab proverb regarding harems, haven’t you?”

“The one which says, ‘If there is no nubile female about, a camel will suffice’?”

“For shame!” Rashid exclaimed, but his lips were fighting a grin, too. “Nay, I refer to the one which says, ‘A man’s staff needs constant polishing.’”

Adam shook his head with amusement.

Rashid’s dark-skinned face turned somber. He put a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “In all seriousness, my lord, I worry about you. You have become a recluse here in your own land. You do not mix in society. You make no attempt to refurbish your keep so that others may visit. Most worrisome of all, you continue to refuse to treat the ill and dying who come seeking your healing skills.”

Adam should have been affronted. Rashid went too far, for a servant. But then, he was not really a servant. He was a friend. And Adam had given him good cause to worry.

Adam squeezed Rashid’s hand on his shoulder and motioned for him to move to the other side of the table where work awaited him. “I’m getting better, Rashid. Really, I am. I know I have been morbid overlong, but—”

Rashid made a snorting sound of commentary on just how morbid he had been of late.

“—but I have been thinking of establishing a small hospitium in that old weaving shed near the moat. What think you of that?”

Rashid gave him a look that said, without words, that he would have been much more impressed if he’d said he was thinking of establishing a harem … even in the old weaving shed.