She looked up again, scarlet with embarrassment. “Screeching owls, can you imagine? And just because my lady would not marry him. Who would? The nasty creature that he was even then, and she the daughter of  the King of Iskandar … why should she marry that lout?”

“Then what’s to be embarrassed about? It wasn’t your fault – the Vizier did it!”

“But screeching owls! We actually screeched! And some people tell us, whenever we argue with them, that we still screech!”

“Well, I am sure these people deserve some screeching every so often,” said Donna sympathetically. “Most people do. And who is your lady?”

“She is my darling cousin, Fatima, now the wife of the Sultan Haroun-al-Rashid. She and I were brought...

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