Chapter 46: Paradise

As soon as Murad Rais went in to the Dey and the door shut, Tangle crowed like a rooster and slung his arm around Thorton's shoulder. "We did it! He's on board! We will drive the Spaniards from our shores and the country will prosper!" He kept his arm companionably around Thorton's shoulder as they exited the chamber and picked up their swords. The other captains followed along amiably, discussing the prospects.

"We will meet tomorrow, at my house, for dinner and discussion," Tangle told them. "Until then, enjoy a little shore leave." Upon reaching the street, they split up to go their separate ways.

Tangle laughed and grabbed Thorton and danced him around. "We will do it!"

Thorton laughed and blushed. "Don't hang on me, Isam, people will think you're drunk!"

Tangle laughed and let go of him. "You're dining with us tonight, at my wife's house! And I shall get to see my children! I must get their presents!" He swerved back to the galley. It wasn't far and he was soon burdened down with his sacks like Saint Nicholas bringing gifts to the poor people of his country.

Thorton followed him but demurred. "I do not want to intrude on your family life."

"Nonsense, Peter. It is no intrusion. Do not argue with me! It is insubordinate. I will command you as your superior officer if you make me." His voice was cheerfully indomitable.

Thorton couldn't argue. For a moment he hung back. He had to admit, with Tangle's broad shoulders and long legs, the uniform looked uncommonly good on him. He felt a surge of lust and fought it down. There would be no more of that for them. Not now that Tangle was home. Still, it was no crime in this country . . . maybe he could find someone to warm his bed . . . That made him a little giddy. He looked with interest at the men they passed, but he could not tell if any of them were looking at him, or if they were just looking at the strange gaudy uniform. Yet Tangle had had male lovers. Maybe he could help.

He caught up to the corsair, screwed his courage to the sticking point, and asked, "Isam, I wonder if you might do me a favor. Since you know this city, I thought maybe you might know a gentleman of, ah, how shall I put this? An agreeable proclivity. That might like to meet me. And I him." He blushed terribly to ask it.

Tangle was carrying two sacks full of toys and gifts. He'd been accumulating things for his children in every port. He hesitated for a moment. Then he said quietly, "I love you, Peter, but you've been cool to me ever since Jamila came on board. It pains me to think that you want company, but won't accept mine."

"I don't love you. I like you, admire you, enjoy you, even lust for you," he colored brightly as he admitted it, "But not love you. In that way. I love you as a friend, Isam. You have been more than fair and kind to me, and I have learned a lot from you. As strange as it sounds, even when you are angry with me, I still think I can speak my mind to you."

Tangle put down his sacks of goodies. "I love you as a friend, too, Peter. But I love you as something more as well. I know that my love is engendered at least in part by the situation, but that does not change the fact that I feel it and you deserve it. I admire you highly. Even when you're stubborn and drive me to distraction. But there is something else about you. Something that completes me."

They stood in the busy street with bullock carts, riders, and peddlers going around them. Nearby a demi-galley was raising a cargo net full of supplies to her deck. Her sailors worked briskly without shirts in the summer sun. The naval part of Thorton's mind kept track of all that was going on around him even as he stared into Tangle's eyes. "Yes?"

Tangle rubbed his hands on his sides. "You're male. It was not easy for me to marry. I had to learn it. My natural inclination is for my own sex. Yours is too, so I think you know what I mean when I say that I desire your masculinity."

Thorton's heart beat faster. "Yes, I think I do. But still, you are married!"

Tangle picked up the sack of presents with a sigh. "So I am. With children too. I must go home to them. On land, I am a father and husband. But Peter, we will go to sea again."

Thorton's pulse was pounding. "Yes, we will."

"And things will be different then."

"Perhaps they will." Thorton knew himself, he did not think he could withstand the corsair's advances if he pressed his suit on board ship far out of sight of land and wife. "But I would rather have some one of my own. Some one I didn't have to share."

Tangle watched him from beneath heavy hooded eyelids. He sighed heavily. "I am unlucky. Every man I fall in love with leaves me for somebody else."

"I am sorry, Isam. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Tangle rubbed a hand over his face. Finally he said, "I will introduce you to Shakil. He is Jamila's other brother and I think you might like him very much. He is my accountant and a more honest man you'll never meet. If you left a thousand ducats and your virgin sister with him for ten years, when you got back, both would still be intact."

"He sounds the opposite of Kasim."

Tangle laughed. "In all ways. He is quiet and shy, pious, studious, modest, and hardworking. He is like you and I, interested in his own sex. Although it seems imprudent to use the word 'sex' when speaking of him. He is a chaste man. I cannot promise that he will like you. I like most men that I meet, but he is more reserved."

The description interested Thorton. "I look forward to meeting him. Will he be at dinner?"

"Yes, I'm sure he will. He lives there. He and Jamila and Kasim inherited the house from their mother. I bought Kasim's share a long time ago when he needed money."

They walked the rest of the way to the house. It was on a back bay too shallow to get a galley up, but they could have taken a boat. Could have, except that Tangle was veering through the shops buying things again. He got caught for a very long time in a bookshop and came away with half a dozen books. Some were poetry and some were nautical treatises. Some were picture books for the children. Thorton bought himself a Qu'ran in Arabic. In spite of the shopping, they eventually arrived at the house.

It was a Greek style house, low, with one story, white walls, and a porch across the front. Smooth Tuscan columns supported the architrave. Double doors let into hallway with a parlor to the left and office to the right. In the office was a thin man dressed in white about Thorton's age. He was working at a drop front secretary desk of French origin, made of birth and decorated with scallop shell carving. He had a simple white cotton cap on his head. He looked up and broke into a broad smile when he saw Tangle. The corsair set his bags down and embraced the man, kissing him on each cheek, then clasping him in a bear hug. At last Tangle made the introductions.

"This is my brother-in-law Shakil bin Nakih and a more honest man you will not find. Shakil, this is Peter Rais Thorton, the man who saved me from the galley." He spoke Spanish for Thorton's benefit.

Shakil was about an inch shorter than Thorton and a good deal thinner. He had a sober demeanor. Still he smiled warmly at Tangle, and said in good Spanish, "Peace be upon you, Peter Rais. Thank you for bringing Isam Rais home to us." He bowed deeply.

Tangle would have none of it. He grinned wildly. He seized his brother-in-law and danced him around. "I'm home! La la la la! And look at this, I've brought presents for everyone!"'

Shakil blushed at the corsair's effusiveness but let the man drag him around the room before finally breaking free. "The children will be glad to see you."

"Yes, yes, I know! Here, let me give the children their things. I will give you your present after I see them."

"Go on, Isam." Shakil gave the man a little push to send him through the open door to the courtyard.

Tangle flew out of the room and into the inner courtyard. A happy, girlish shriek sounded as soon as he was seen. "Tahirah!" he cried with great delight. His voice came clearly through the open double doors.

They could see him grab the girl who was dressed in pale pink and whirl her around and around while she shrieked at the top of her lungs. A little boy ran up but hung back uncertainly. Tangle put the girl down then grabbed the boy to his bosom and lifted him off his feet. The boy was dressed in thin blue and white stripes. Tangle stayed on his knees hugging him mightily. The girl came back and must be hugged too. He wrapped them in his arms and kissed them.

A line of three—these must be the triplets, came on next, urged by their mother. One of the three was bigger than the other two and held back sulkily. Tangle let go of the oldest two, who were no more than eight and six, and held out his arms. "Zaafir! Nakih! Naomi!" The two little ones, who looked exactly alike except one was a boy and one was girl, ran to him. Zaafir sulked a little longer, but at last got jealous of his siblings and flung himself into his father's arms. Tangle kissed them all and hugged them tight.

The last child was a toddler. He held onto his mother's hand and put his thumb in his mouth. He was still in nappies under his blue tunic. He did not know this stranger. Jamila knelt down and encouraged him with soft words. "He is your Papa. I know you don't remember him, but he loves you very much."

Tangle let the triplets loose and held out his arms and called softly, "Alexander." The boy hugged his mother and would not come. Tahirah climbed on her father's back and announced, "My Papa!"

Jamila shushed her. "He's Hamet and Alexander and Zaafir and Naomi and Nakih's papa too!"

Little Hamet went over to his smallest brother and patted his head. "Papa's nice!" He lead Alexander over, but the baby was still shy. Tangle knew how to cure that. He opened his bag and pulled out a toy horse and offered it to the child. Curiosity overcame shyness and the baby came forward to receive it. Nothing would do but for Tahirah to have a present too. She clamored and tugged at her father. "What did you bring me?" she demanded. So the presents were brought out to the great delight of the children.

Thorton and Shakil stood shoulder to shoulder in the doorway watching. Thorton felt that he was intruding on a very private moment, a moment that did not include him. He looked everywhere but at the family. The courtyard he noticed was paved in tile and mosaic. Black ships were sailing through the white tiles and the center was a compass rose. A fountain occupied the exact center, and in addition to the compass points, there was an elaborate ornament to show the direction of Mecca.

Shakil noticed him looking around and asked in a soft voice, "Would you like some tea or coffee? You must be tired from your journey. Let me make you comfortable."

"Yes, please. A cup of tea would be delightful."

They went into the parlor. It was furnished in the Muslim way with backless divans, rugs three deep, carved tables, and fretwork filling the windows. The breeze that wafted in was scented with sandalwood. Shakil disappeared for a few minutes, then returned with a teapot on a tray and a stack of cups. He served a cup of crisp black tea to the English guest.

Thorton was not sure how to strike up a conversation. He tried to remember Perry's social lessons from long and asked a question. "Are you married?"

Shakil shook his head. "No. Are you?"

"No, and I don't intend to to marry."

"Marriage is a happy state. Even Isam Rais has learned that."

"For some men, it is. But I'm not that kind of man."

Shakil looked at him more thoughtfully. "I'm not either." He glanced out into the courtyard. "I love my nieces and nephews, but I would not make a good father. I am too bookish."

"He seems very fond of them."

It was a stilted, awkward conversation, but Shakil was warming to the topic. He smiled as he added sugar to the tea. "He is a wonderful father. It is quite a change in him. I remember the wild corsair that Jamila set her heart on. I could never be such a man. Or survive being married to such a man. I don't know how Jamila does it."

Thorton smiled and took his teacup. "He's an overwhelming personality. I like him, but sometimes I feel invisible next to him."

Shakil nodded vigorously. "I know exactly what you mean! I am a quiet person. Everyone says I'm shy, but I'm not. I just don't have much to say, unless you're a scholar. Do you like books?"

"I do. And I am learning to read Arabic. Salaam."

"Salaam. I am glad to hear it. Arabic is a wonderful language. Are you reading the Qu'ran?"

"I am trying to, but I know very little. I find it hard to pronounce."

Shakil smiled warmly. "I would be delighted to help you study."

Thorton's heart did a slow roll. He smiled back goofily. "I'd like that."

Shakil blushed and added sugar to his own cup of tea. "Maybe you could come tomorrow afternoon, then stay for dinner."

Thorton's heart soared. This man was much more too his liking, even if he wasn't nearly as tall or virile as Tangle. He found him easy to be around. He was gentle and pleasant, not overbearing and overwhelming like the corsair. "I have a lot to learn. Isam Rais teaches me, but he distracts me too. I want to be the master of my own kismet."

"Yes, I understand that. I felt much the same when I first met him. Now I am used to it, but still, he has been gone such a long time, I had gotten used to the quiet." Another girlish shriek sounded from the courtyard, followed by a bubbling stream of laughter. "Although it is impossible for a house with children to ever be truly quiet," he said humorously.

Thorton paused, then said, "I hesitate to bring up business, but there is the matter of the Sea Leopard. Lord Zahid said he'd buy it for him, but Kasim Rais won't sell it. Do you know anything about that?"

"Yes. I keep the family's accounts. I know exactly how much Kasim owes each investor. I was already at work on the figures when you arrived. It must be done quietly, or Kasim will be angry and try to block the sale. Murad Rais will be the difficult one, but Lord Zahid might be able to handle that one."

"I want Isam to have his ship back," Thorton said.

"So do I." Then his mouth curled into a smile. "So you're in love with him?"

Thorton blushed crimson. "I didn't say that."

Shakil didn't laugh, but his mouth quirked into a smile. "I was in love with him for two years when Jamila first married him. I survived. You will too."

Thorton was shocked. "You mean, you—"

Shakil said, "Sh. No, I didn't. I was terrified of him. Besides, I would never do anything to hurt my sister."

"I have nothing to get over," Thorton replied with dignity. "I have been very firm with him." Shakil just smiled. Thorton sighed. "All right. Maybe I do." He drank tea. "I must be fickle. It wasn't that long ago I was in love with Perry."

"Who is Perry?"

So Thorton told him the whole long story, starting with that rainy morning in London. It took a long time to tell. He was surprised to find it late in the afternoon before he was done. Shakil had listened to it all. His hazel eyes were sympathetic, and he either laughed or shook his head sadly at the appropriate moments. He put in a good word from time to time, asked a few questions, and stared intently into Thorton's eyes when he was speaking. What a delight to unburden his soul to such a good listener! No judgment, no fear of the law or court martial, no shame, no disapproval from others. By the time he had finished his story, he was in love with Shakil. When he took Shakil's hand in his, Shakil let him. It was very passionate hand-holding on both sides, even if all they did was sit there and gaze into one another's eyes.

Thorton whispered, "I want to call on you. Not just to learn Arabic. To court you." He was blushing brightly. "Will you let me?"

Shakil blushed just as brightly. "I will."

Thorton slipped off the divan and knelt before him on the carpet. "I promise that you are the only one that I will ever look at. I will be true to you."

Shakil leaned forward and brushed a soft kiss across his cheek. "I will hold you to it!"

Thorton lifted Shakil's hands and kissed them one by one, on their backs and then their palms. "I will have to go to sea again, but I will write. Will you give me a memento to remember you by?"

Shakil replied, "There's a silhouette cutter a few blocks from here. We can have our pictures cut."

Thorton beamed. "Perfect! Would you like to see my ship?"

"I would."

So the two of them went out hand in hand. Thorton was deliriously happy. It had been a long strange journey from England, but he had found his place in the world. He had found a religion he could believe in and become a captain fighting for a worthy cause. On top of that, he had met a man on whom he could fix all his affectations without any of the complications of his previous infatuations. If that wasn't Paradise, nothing was.