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dangerous the Kurds are.”
    â€œAnd that is why people hire them for the trip to Mosul. The river is by far the easiest way to travel, but it winds through territories the Kurds consider theirs. If we travel on rafts captained by Kurds, the other Kurds are more likely to leave us in peace.” He took her hand and tucked it under his arm. “Do not distress yourself. We will keep you safe.”
    â€œI’m not frightened, just confused. You seem to keep telling me contradictory things.”
    â€œYes, I fear that is the way of it here. Someone who is a friend today may be an enemy tomorrow. It is necessary to always take care.”
    Why was it, she wondered, that men always seemed to feel it incumbent on themselves to warn women of the dangers of the world? Did they think it made them look braver? Or did they think women were too foolish to recognize danger when they saw it? After all, when she encountered a scowling man brandishing a spear and carrying assorted weapons, she was hardly likely to think him meek and mild.
    So it was that she boarded the raft with a mixture of irritation and nervousness. However, they were not long under way when she found herself entranced by this mode of travel. It was remarkably comfortable to sit on the heaps of cushions while gliding smoothly over the water. Each raft had two oarsmen, who did not so much propel the boat as guide it along the current while a captain directed them. It was a simple arrangement, but worked well. Obvious, she told herself. If it didn’t work well, it would not have continued for thousands of years.
    She was not the only one who found it enjoyable. Julia managed to unbend a bit from her perfectly upright posture, and Mama leaned back and sighed happily. They looked like a pair of Oriental princesses, reclining there. They had removed their cloaks, and their tunics and other garments draped gracefully over them. Emily looked down at herself. The fringe on her sash had gotten caught in the knot and there was a mysterious stain on her tunic. She couldn’t imagine what she had spilled on herself.
    â€œSuch bliss,” said Mama. “It is such bliss to not be on a horse, to sit on something soft.”
    Papa smiled at her. “No one would have known you were not enjoying every minute of it.”
    â€œWell, there was no point in complaining when there was nothing to be done about it, was there?” She reached up a hand to Papa and when he took it, pulled him down to sit beside her.
    Lucien snatched up one of the cushions and tossed it on the ground so he could lounge at Emily’s feet, looking completely at home. It occurred to her that he was rather like a cat in that way. He could manage to make himself at home in all circumstances. That was doubtless useful for an adventurer.
    â€œThey like each other, your maman and papa,” he observed.
    â€œOf course,” she said. It seemed an odd comment.
    â€œAh, do not say ‘of course’ so easily. It is not so ordinary, you know.”
    â€œWell, it’s hardly unusual.”
    He looked at her quizzically. “You think not? Consider the married people you know. Do they have this liking between them?”
    She laughed. “Well, my sister Elinor and her husband—Julia’s brother—certainly do. And my brother Pip and his wife.”
    â€œThey learned, perhaps, from your parents. Me, I have known far more like Sir Henry and Lady Bulwer.”
    She made a face and he laughed.
    â€œWhat of your own parents?” It was an intrusive question, but she couldn’t help being curious.
    He gave that Gallic shrug again. “When I was small, yes, perhaps, but I do not know truly. I do not remember them together. If I was with one of them, the other was not there. After a while we went to live with my grandfather, but my father and grandfather were always fighting. My grandmother was there too, but she was of no importance to my grandfather. She