Such tales helped pass the long hours in the harem just as the setting out of the cards or the staring into a crystal ball brought a little ray of hope that Fate would be kind and the Sultan’s eye would turn from Mihri to one of his other women.

But Yamina found herself watching the Black Eunuch, listening to the whispers of the slaves and wondering if someone was plotting against her, against Mihri, against the Sultan himself!

Fear was always there like the hiss of a snake in the grass, sometimes so faint as to make her think that she had imagined it, at other times so real and poisonous that it was impossible not to tremble.

‘What shall I do?’ Yamina asked herself over and over again.

At night she would try to pray, but somehow the God who had been with her all her life seemed lost beside the importance of Allah to whom every good Moslem prayed twice a day.

Life went on, the unhurried, organised, traditional life of the harem, where everyone had their allotted place, the Reader of the Koran, the Head Nurse, the Keeper of the Baths, and even the copper boilers for the hammen, the gardeners, the carpenters, the plasterers and the Tressed Halberdiers or corps of manual workers, woodcutters and bodyguards who came into the harem but under the strictest rules.

The name of Tressed Halberdiers was derived from two long locks of artificial hair that fell on each side of their faces.

These were originally worn to prevent them casting any sidelong glances on those whom they should not see.

But there was in fact never anyone about when they appeared for the warning cry of, “Helvet! Helvet!” ensured that the Black Eunuchs took care that their charges were invisible and under lock and key.

On Mihri’s insistence Yamina managed to avoid going for her lessons in love.

First there was the excuse that she was ill, the next day it was possible to say that Mihri required her, although as the Circassian pointed out this was an excuse they could only use once.

On the third day, just as Yamina was wondering what she could say to the Haremlik, she was called to Mihri’s room.

She saw at once that the Ikbal was looking excited and at the same time extremely beautiful.

Her clothes were more splendid than usual and she had diamonds round her neck and on her wrists that Yamina had not seen before.

“What is it?” she asked as soon as the door closed and they were alone.

Mihri put her fingers to her lips.

Then taking Yamina by the hand she drew her across the room to the window. Here it was impossible for an eavesdropper to listen inside a hollow wall as could happen in other rooms of the Palace.

Putting her arms round Yamina, she embraced her, whispering as she did so,