'Thank you, Little Father," Remo said. "Do not worry. I will think of something," Chiun mocked. "Always will he think of something—he whose most recent thought was that he had soiled his diapers. Pah."
"Don't look now, but someone else knows we're here," Remo said. He nodded toward a slight, handsome man swathed in silken jodhpurs and a turban of brilliant white, who strolled casually toward them through the flower garden near the wall. The man stopped well ahead of them and bowed with a flourish.
"Welcome to the sacred Palace of Vadass, gentlemen," he said in precise, softly accented English.
"Yeah," Remo answered. "That was some welcoming committee you sent after us."
The man smiled. "Those were our outer guards. The watchman in the tower felt you were attempting to enter the palace without permission."
"Who, us?" Remo said, watching the man's hands and feet for any sign of quick movement.
"Of course, they were in error. I have been informed by my master that you are quite welcome to the hospitality of the palace." "Is that so?"
"Indeed, even expected. Please come with me,
Mr. Remo. I will have your belongings brought to
you." He bowed again and walked with careful steps
through the garden. Remo and Chiun followed.
At the end of the garden path, the grounds
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opened into vast manicured lawns dotted with sculptured greenery that sported fragrant blossoms in full bloom. In the distance sprawled the Palace of Vadass, its gilt onion domes gleaming in the sunlight.
The man in jodhpurs led Remo and Chiun to a pristine white walkway past a row of uniformed guards. The heavy brass doors of the palace opened as they neared, as if by magic.
Inside, they walked through a huge antechamber of inlaid black and white marble, ornamented by colossal pillars set with glittering colored stones.
"This way," the guide said, leading them to a smaller room where the walls were draped with silk cloth and the floors strewn with fluffy oversized pillows. Since the room had no windows, the glimmer of candles offered the only light. In the corners, cones of incense glowed with smoky fragrance.
"You will please wait here," the guide said. "Refreshment will be brought to you in all possible haste." He bowed again, then stepped quietly through the half-darkness and was gone.
Chiun lowered himself onto a cushion. In a moment, the dreamy silence of the room was punctuated with the sound of bells, high and tinkling.
"What's that?" Remo said.
"Peace be with you," a woman's voice whispered from the darkness. With the same gentle tinkling sound, the girl moved closer, into the candlelight. Remo saw that the bells were on her toes, beneath gossamer harem pants that revealed the inviting outline of her legs. Above, she wore a brief bandeau of bright silk, which covered her breasts modestly while allowing full view of her smooth olive skin. Her eyes were big and almond shaped, rimmed in
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black to match the dark cascades of hair that streamed to her waist. On her forehead sparkled a blood-red ruby.
"I have brought you tea," she said, her voice
husky.
Involuntarily, Remo's nostrils flared to give himself more oxygen. Ordinarily for Remo, one woman was pretty much like another, but for some reason this woman, in this place . . . For the first time in months, he felt a stirring in his loins. He wanted her.
Her eyes never left his as she poured the tea daintily and offered a cup to Chiun. "Would you . . . like . . ." she faltered, gesturing toward the ornate teapot she carried and looking toward Remo.
"I would like," Remo said, touching her hand.
They were interrupted by the opening of the door at the far end of the room. The guide in jodhpurs walked silently into view.
"Mr. Chiun," he said. "Will you follow me, please? Your chambers have been prepared."
"Chiun is sufficient," the old Oriental said. "Of course, 'Awesome Magnificence' would be appropriate."
As the last light disappeared with the closing of the door behind Chiun and the other man, Remo took the beautiful serving girl in his arms and kissed
her deeply.
"My body is yours," she whispered, unknotting the scrap of silk binding her breasts. They popped into his hands, round and firm, and her eyes slowly closed as he touched them. "Have me," she said.
Slowly he unwrapped the sash around her waist, allowing her transparent pants to fall to the floor. When she was unclothed, he helped her to undress him until they both stood naked in the flickering
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candlelight, their eyes locked together in desire. He reached out a hand to caress her, and she brushed her lips across his.
"Beautiful stranger," she said, pulling him onto one of the floor cushions with her. "I was sent to pleasure you, and yet it is I who am pleased."
"We can please each other," Remo said, touching the warm inside of her thigh. Her flesh trembled under his fingertips. With her hands on his back, she pressed him close to her and guided him inside with the movement of her hips.
"Hey, I haven't even gotten to step one," he said.
"Step one?"
"Of the 52 steps—oh, never mind."
And for a suspended moment in time, Remo let himself forget the magical techniques of lovemaking from Sinanju and permitted the beautiful girl in the candlelight to accept him with her body, taking him into her, gasping with his thrusts as he rocked and petted her and brought her-moaning to ecstasy and he lost himself in her wetness, her sweet warmth.
She held him tightly. "No man has ever loved me so," she said. Her breath came in ragged gulps. From the corners of her eyes, two glistening tears trickled across her temples.
"What's the matter?" Remo asked gentry, pressing his lips to her eyes.
"Go," she rasped, choking on her tears. "Go now."
Remo smiled, bewildered. "Wait a minute. Haven't you ever heard of afterglow? This is where we're supposed to cuddle up and make plans for the future."
"Go quickly, before it is too late," she said, rising to her feet and slipping on her clothes.
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"Why?"
"I—" She pushed him away from her. "I have done a terrible thing," she said.
"Tell me," Remo said. "Whatever it is, tell me."
"My master understands that you are an extraordinary man," she began, trying to compose herself. "Difficult to kill. I was sent to weaken you, so that you may be taken. The guards are outside now. Come with me. I will shield you with my body, for I am the sheik's concubine and may not be killed unless Vadass himself orders it."
"Chiun," Remo said, pulling on his clothes. "What about Chiun?"
"The old man has been poisoned. It was the tea. He drank, but you did not. He is dead by now."
Remo swallowed hard. He clenched his jaw as he thought of the frail old Oriental lying poisoned somewhere in the palace, out of Remo's reach. "Where is he?" he demanded, shaking the girl by the shoulders.
"I do not know," she sobbed. "I cannot be forgiven for this. I cannot forgive myself."
Suddenly the door burst open and the light outside the room silhouetted four archers like ghostly shadows, their bows trembling in a wake of arrows shooting blindly across the room.
The girl gasped. Remo saw the arrow enter her chest beneath her throat. With a noise that sickened Remo, she staggered under the impact of the arrow, then fell, blood streaming from her mouth in black strings, darkened by the candlelight.
Remo's attention wavered for a split second when he saw her. It was long enough for another arrow to pierce his right shoulder.
He recoiled with the pain, but it brought him
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back to alertness. He forced his mind away from the girl and focused on the hail of arrows, which he fended off easily using only his left arm and his legs. He formulated a plan. Following Chain's example with the spear warriors outside the palace, he would wait until the archers ran out of arrows, then charge them. He would kill all but one, and would force that one to lead him to Chiun.