Chapter 16

The next morning the soldiers were all overjoyed to hear they were to remain by the lake another day. Even Zafirah felt her mood buoyed as she walked among her troops and spoke with them, bolstering their morale. Nasheta discovered that some of the water birds appeared quite unafraid of humans, and would even accept offerings of trail bread from her hand as long as she made no sudden movements. A few of the more enterprising spahi used some snare-line to try catching fish in the lake waters, but they had limited success. Zafirah saw a group of them inspecting the small boat tied to the pier, speculating on whether they might have better luck out in the deeper waters; she immediately forbade them from making an attempt, not wanting to test the potential hazards of the lake further.

As evening approached the scouts raised another alarm to signal the return of the King’s emissary, and again Hazim went to speak with him. He returned carrying a scrolled piece of parchment and wearing a self-satisfied look on his handsome face. Zafirah, Falak and the two pleasure-servants joined him beside their firepit to hear his news.

“King Gerald has agreed not to interfere with your mission,” he reported. “He concedes the point that you have the right to retrieve your mate…however, he has requested he be sent a letter from Dae, in her own hand, stating that it is her wish to return with you to the desert.”

Zafirah gave a mocking bark of laughter. “These outlanders! They will not accept anything is true unless it has first been scratched onto parchment! What of the rest, though? Will he send an agent to guide us through his lands?”

“Not exactly…but he sent this.” Hazim unrolled the scroll and laid it out on the damp ground. Zafirah may not have been able to read, but she recognized a map when she saw one. “This marks our position, here,” Hazim indicated a small red mark on the map, then traced his finger to a larger red circle some distance to the south-east, “and this is the territory held by Dae’s father, Lord Everdeen.”

Zafirah gazed at the lines on the map hungrily, feeling the familiar thrill she typically associated with the moments just before a battle. After weeks of travel, they were finally nearing their goal! “How far?”

Hazim shrugged. “Less than a week I would guess. The line here marks the route he suggests we take; it will ensure we do not pass close to heavily populated regions or cities. The King is anxious we interact as little as possible with his people. He does not want them…unnecessarily agitated.”

“Mmm.” That suited Zafirah fine. The locals seemed to vanish at their approach anyway, and now that she had the map, a clear path had been set before her. “Excellent work, wazir! Falak…send your scouts out to reconnoiter the path, and pass the word that we will be on the move before dawn tomorrow.”

“And what will happen when we reach our destination?” Inaya asked. “Will the King order Dae’s father to release her back to us?”

Hazim’s expression grew a shade grimmer. “No. Gerald has promised not to hinder us so long as we keep the Peace, but neither will he compel a noble lord to relinquish his daughter. But do not be disheartened,” he added, seeing Zafirah scowl. “Without the backing of the King, Dae’s father will not be able to deny us indefinitely. If it came to the use of force…” He let the sentence linger, allowing Zafirah to reach the inevitable conclusion to such a thought on her own.

“I have no wish to bring death and destruction to my Consort’s family,” she said quietly. “Nor would I send my warriors against the devil-weapons they would doubtless wield in such a conflict.”

“It may take time, Scion, but patience will reward us with a peaceful resolution.” Hazim's voice was calm but no less determined than her own.

Zafirah nodded again; though he was a tad arrogant and mercenary, Hazim had served her every bit as well as he once served her father, working undeniably hard to facilitate improved treaties with the neighboring lands. Whatever his faults, he was as loyal to her as any other Jaharri under her rule. Surely his talents in diplomacy would prove more effective than violence to see Dae returned to her, unharmed and hopefully with her parents’ consent.

Zafirah traced the line marked on the map with a fingertip, silently praying her Consort could remain strong a little longer.

*   *          *

After the incident with Lord Blackwood and his son, Dae enjoyed a brief period of respite from her parent’s constant arguments while they gave her some space and allowed tensions to cool. It seemed to Dae that her mother and father had been more than simply shocked by her display with the handsome nobleman; they appeared genuinely terrified at witnessing such a calculated expression of sexuality from their precious, innocent child.

The peace lasted a few days before she received another visit from her parents, and if it was possible she sensed even more tension in their body language than before. She was sitting at her desk, absorbed in putting the finishing touches on a painting of the view from Zafirah’s bedchamber, when they interrupted her. Bracing for a fresh round of hostilities, Dae set her brush aside and gave them her full attention.

“We’ve been talking…” her mother began haltingly, as though struggling to find the words. “And we’ve decided perhaps your suggestion of sending this…’Scion’…a letter might not be such a bad idea.”

Dae sat up straighter in her seat, not willing to let the hope that her parents had seen reason take root. “Really?”

“Yes. We think it might help you adjust back into your life if you had the opportunity to…well, say a proper goodbye to your…friend.”

“Say goodbye?” That fleeting hope looked like it would be uprooted yet again.

“Don’t look like that, darling. We think this might help you. If you could write this woman a letter, explain to her you’re back with your family now and that you’re happy to be home…it might help you both to let go. Perhaps we could write one, too. Tell her how grateful we are that she saved you from your captors…and for keeping you safe until we could bring you back where you belong…” Her mother’s lips pulled into a trembling, tense smile. “What do you think?”

Something was amiss; her mother’s voice had a pleading edge to it, and her words sounded like sugar intended to mask a bitter taste. “Something’s happened,” she said, feeling those tendrils of hope find purchase once more. “It’s her…isn’t it? Zafirah.”

“No, darling, we just thought—”

“She’s coming.” She knew it was true as soon as she said it; fear was etched into her mother’s expression and there could only be one cause. “Why else would you suggest I contact her?”

Simone looked ready to argue but Dae’s father threw his hands up and said, “Yes! Yes, she’s coming!” He also looked nervous and afraid, but it was shrouded by stronger anger. “Are you happy now? Your ‘desert bride—’” He spat the words out like an insult “—is marching an army of her barbarian riders through the kingdom, looting and burning everything in their path! If you have any care for the lives of the innocent people she’s slaughtering, you’ll write the damn letter and tell her to go back to that godforsaken desert and leave decent people in peace!” He took several deep breathes, but his eyes were still fuming.

Dae turned back to her painting and picked up her brush, struggling not to let her hand tremble. “Looting and burning, you say? How terrible.” Outwardly she managed to maintain a calm expression, but inside Dae was almost vibrating with exultant joy. She was coming! Zafirah was coming, and whatever distance lay between them it was surely closing with every minute that ticked by. Her father’s lies meant little in the face of this news.

“Dae, this is serious. We have to do something!”

“But didn’t you tell me the Royal Guard would make short work of her army if they were foolish enough to invade?” Dae remarked mildly. Glancing up from her work, she blinked in innocent curiosity. “Has there been a problem?”

Her father’s mouth pulled into a furious frown, the lines about his eyes growing deeper.

Dae smiled. “Let me guess—King Gerald won’t risk his alliance with the Jaharri for the sake of your wounded pride. Oh, he’d send his troops out if the Scion really were menacing the citizens, but we both know that’s not true. A fortunate thing, too. Whatever you may think of them, the spahi are fierce warriors, not easily intimidated. They might prove more than the Royal Guard could handle.”

“Be reasonable, darling,” her mother begged. “We can’t allow those savages to wander about the countryside unchecked! Would you see them raze the entire estate to the ground when they arrive? You must send her away!”

But Dae turned calmly back to her painting. “I’m sorry, Mother, but I’m not about to write my wife a note saying ‘Thank you for all your help, but I’m fine. It was all a big mistake, I see that now. You should just run along home.’ And in case you’ve a mind to forge one in my name, save yourself the bother. Zafirah can’t read, and she doesn’t trust the lies written by others.” Drawing her brush gently over the parchment in front of her, she added a darker shading around the lines of one of the rooftops in her painting. “If you really want to get her out of the kingdom quickly, your best course would be to send me with an escort to meet up with her as soon as possible.”

“Never!” Her father sounded truly furious now. “Never, Dae, do you hear me? That woman has already done enough damage, and I’ll be damned if I hand you back to her!”

Dae shrugged, unaffected by his words in light of the news. “As you wish. But you’ll remember I tried to tell you this would happen…that she would come for me. I was right. And I also warned you not to offend her when she arrives; Zafirah tends to respond to insults with naked steel.”

“There’s still time to undo this, Dae—”

“If you could let me know when she arrives, that would be wonderful,” she interrupted, glancing at her parents with a sorrowful yet serene expression. “I’m sorry you can’t understand…but this doesn’t have to be a bitter parting.”

“Dae—”

“I’d like to be alone please,” she said softly, turning her full attention back to her work. “I need to concentrate.”

They stood there a long time in silence, and she could feel their eyes watching her—hurt, desperate, fearful—before they turned and left the room, closing the door behind them.

As soon as she heard the snick of the latch, Dae exhaled loudly and dropped the brush. Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes against tears of joy as a wave of solid relief crashed over her.

Zafirah was coming!

Nothing else mattered now. The passage of time became a wonderful thing, for every second that slipped by brought her mate another step closer. She hugged herself, grinning uncontrollably, wanting to laugh and cry and dance with the overwhelming swirl of emotions rushing through her.

She would hate leaving with the scars of angry words still fresh upon her relationship with her parents, but she had tried—oh, how she had tried!—to make them understand. Dae wasn’t about to let the fact that they remained mired in their ignorance stop her from returning with Zafirah. At least they had the comfort of knowing she was alive…and if they weren’t so obstinately set against hearing her words, they’d also have had the comfort of knowing she was happy in her new life.

All that could be done, had been done.

Looking over at the rather large accumulation of books, nick-knacks and keepsakes she had collected over the past few weeks, Dae shook her head with a grin. “Suppose I should get packing,” she said softly to herself. “I’m going to need a big chest to get all this stuff back to El’Kasari.”

*   *          *

Simone pulled the door closed softly and looked up at her husband, confused, worried, uncertain. “Well…what now?”

Richard shook his head and turned away.

As difficult as Dae’s return had been for her, it was no less so for her parents. Richard and Simone had been heartbroken over the vicious ambush that left a dozen of their finest soldiers dead and their daughter dragged off to an unknown but certainly terrible fate. They’d been only months away from celebrating her engagement, securing her future with a man of impeccable credentials and binding their family with one of their principal trading rivals, and the shock of losing their precious daughter had been utterly devastating.

Weeks of desperate but fruitless searching followed, condolences and sympathetic outrage poured in from their friends and fellows, and most nights the only dreams that came to them were filled with terrible imaginings of what their beloved child must be suffering through. Neither had been willing to abandon the hope that they would find her again, but the trail had gone cold so quickly, leaving them stranded in their grief and misery with no salvation in sight.

Never losing hope, they made enquiries in the hope of finding someone who could help them locate their lost daughter. After many false leads and interviews with men whose reputations proved more impressive than their skills, they finally found Jarod. A renowned expect at retrieving those lost to the flesh trade, he had heard of their plight and was sympathetic. Jarod promised to see Dae returned to them…though he warned them gently that if she’d survived, she would likely be changed after whatever traumas she’d experienced at the slaver’s hands.

And miraculously he’d kept his word; Dae was home, unmarked and healthy. But the reunion they had prayed for all this time had not gone as they dreamed it would.

The innocent child they’d sought to shelter from the evils of the world, had doted on and coddled with their deep and binding love, was still lost. In her place stood a stranger, matured in a way they both found frightening, not traumatized but defiant and resolute as she had never been before. Dae’s appearance reflected the changes in her; her hair was lighter and longer than they remembered, her gaze no longer demure or hesitant, but strong and confident, and she moved with a woman’s grace. Even the way she spoke at times—her choice of words and the cadence of her speech—was different, more lyrical. It was a subtle change, yet it spoke to how deeply Dae had been influenced by her time among the Jaharri.

Their attempt to introduce her to the man they’d spent months strategically selecting as a suitor had been a complete disaster…and Richard and Simone witnessed a side of their daughter they never even suspected she possessed. The sight of that confident, sexual creature Dae had somehow grown into left them both shaken and stunned. She rebuffed all their attempts to help her recover and rebuild her life, actually defended the actions of those who’d robbed her of her chastity, and expressed not the slightest shred of remorse or shame over the perversions she’d been forced to engage in.

Worse, she continued to cling to the ridiculous idea that her ‘wife’ would come for her. It had seemed such a childish hope, doubtless inspired by the stories she’d so enjoyed growing up about valiant knights who braved perilous trials to win the hand of the princess. They believed time would cure her of this, and other, illusions…but then, impossibly, her hope had borne terrible fruit.

Like a character from some twisted fairy-tale, her ‘knight’ was coming to take her away.

“I think we need to accept that our own efforts to help her have failed,” Richard said quietly as they walked down the hallway away from Dae’s bedroom. “Dae needs more guidance than we can give her ourselves; perhaps a firmer hand is called for.”

Simone gasped, reading his intention clearly. “No, Richard…you promised me you’d never send her there—”

“I know. But things have changed now.” Richard looked at his wife helplessly, feeling every bit as lost and frustrated as she looked. “With this…desert queen…coming for her, we don’t have time to let her recover on her own. If Gerald would only send us the men to stop her…”

Richard’s eyes narrowed angrily. Word had reached them from the King that Zafirah was approaching, intent on reclaiming her lost Consort, and the message made it clear there would be no help coming from the Royal Guard. King Gerald requested he be sent a letter from Dae confirming her desire to return with the Scion to the desert—something they both knew their daughter would happily provide, though neither had any intention of telling her this—but if they wished to defy the Scion, they would do so alone.

It was an unexpected and crippling blow, and even Richard’s adviser, Edmund, had counseled him to send Dae back to the Jaharri rather than risk challenging them. “Damn coward,” Richard growled. “More concerned with his precious alliance with those savages than the safety and honor of his own citizens! No…Dae must be made to see reason, and quickly.”

“But surely there’s a better way!” Simone argued. “Putting her in with…with those people… She doesn’t belong with them!”

“I didn’t want it to come to this, Simone, truly I didn’t. But what other choice do we have? Whatever toxic lies they told to corrupt her mind, their poison worked itself deep. Dae needs counseling and structure to move past her experiences and realize the truth. Only then will she see that her place is here, with us…where we can guide her, help her find a good man and an honorable relationship. And only then will she tell this ‘Scion’ to leave her in peace.”

“But what if that doesn’t work? What if this woman insists Dae be given back to her?”

“If Dae writes to King Gerald and tells him she has no desire to return to the desert, he’ll have no choice but to send his army to aid us.” Richard nodded to himself, a surge of warmth spreading through him as he entertained a rather violent fantasy; he pictured himself leading the charge against the bitch who’d corrupted his daughter and defiled her virtue, chasing the desert riders back to their barren wastes of sand and stone, tails tucked and fully chastised by his righteous fury. “She’ll retreat and leave us in peace once she realizes how futile a conflict would be.”

Tears were forming again in Simone’s eyes; she’d spent as much time crying since their daughter’s return as she had during her absence. “We can’t do this,” she whispered helplessly. “She’ll never trust us again.”

“This is what Dae needs, Simone,” Richard insisted. “Father Douglas has decades of experience dealing with this type of problem. Sending Dae to the reformatory will expose her to others who have suffered similar deviant thoughts and feelings. She’ll see how they’ve struggled against them, overcome their own immoral impulses and found their way back to the light. Counseling will help her see the dark road those Jaharri savages led her down, how they manipulated her, twisted her mind.” He saw the lost look in his wife’s expression and drew her into his arms, hugging her tightly against his taller body and stroking her hair. “This is for the best, my love,” he whispered. “You’ll see. We only need to hold off this ‘Scion’ until Dae understands her place is with us…then we can be a family again.”

Simone clung to him fiercely, and his heart ached as he felt a shudder wrack her slender body, heard her quiet sob of anguish. Richard hated this—hated the mystery his precious, darling Dae had become, hated the thought of what she might have to endure before she could be restored to something recognizable—but he could see no better path forward. What point was there in giving her more time when the Scion was moving closer every day?

Continued

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