Chapter 9
As expected, it was a late start for both women. By the time they woke the sun was already above the horizon, and the camp busy with people attending to their morning chores. Dae and Zafirah spent a moment taking the nomad equivalent of a bath, washing away the sweat of the previous night’s exertions with a damp cloth wet from a meager pot of water, before they dressed and left the yurt.
The morning fires were banked low, though many were still gathered around the embers, eating breakfast and conversing in small groups. Zafirah left Dae in the company of her mother—pointedly ignoring Rashida’s bemused expression—and went in search of food.
Dae met Rashida’s gaze briefly as the older woman handed her a steaming ceramic cup, blushed, and looked away with a quiet, “Thank you.” She noticed many others watching her…and many approving smiles and whispered words being exchanged among the tribesmen. Taking a seat, Dae tried to adopt a look of sanguine nonchalance as she took a sip from the cup.
She regretted it the moment the hot liquid hit her tongue. “Urgh! What is this?” she asked, wincing at the bitter taste.
“Coffee,” Rashida said. “Forgive me, many not born of the desert find our tastes too strong for their palette. Here…” She handed Dae what looked like a small knobby stick, “try stirring it with this. It will sweeten the flavor.”
Dae took the stick and dubiously poked it into the dark water before taking another sip. Her eyes widened in surprise and she smiled at the now-pleasant, slightly cinnamon taste. “Mmm…that’s much better. I’ve never actually had coffee before.”
“It is a traditional morning drink among most of the tribes, though a luxury in the more remote regions. Our own stores ran dry months ago, but Zafirah had the presence of mind to add a few sacks of ground beans to the tribute she brought. It is known to infuse the body with a bracing surge of energy for the coming day. After the late night you had, I thought a cup might do you some good.”
Heat rose again in Dae’s cheeks, but she took another long sip.
Rashida laughed and patted her on the leg. “Be at ease, child, I am only teasing. Zafirah became immune to such things a long time ago, and an old woman must find her amusement where she can. In truth I am impressed. You handled a somewhat delicate situation in a manner befitting the Consort of my daughter. Look…” She nodded in the direction of a small gathering of young women sitting in the shade of a nearby acacia. They were conversing in low, hushed tones, discreetly observing Dae with a less hostile regard. “They woke poor Aaliyah before dawn and demanded a detailed accounting of her adventure with you and the Scion. Since then, they have talked of nothing else. I believe you will find them friendlier and more accepting of you today. Your strategy worked well, it seems.”
Dae hid her smile by taking another sip of her drink. “Thank you.”
Rashida’s eyes fixed on something over Dae’s shoulder, and she grinned mischievously. “Well enough to earn you a treat, by the look of things.”
“Hm?” Dae looked around and saw Aaliyah approaching, holding what appeared to be a plate of pastries in her hands. She was walking a bit stiffly, but didn’t appear any worse off for her lack of sleep. Dae turned herself toward the girl as she came up to them. “Good morning, sweetness,” she greeted, letting her voice drop to a lower pitch and giving a sultry smile.
“Consort.” Looking into Dae’s eyes, Aaliyah seemed momentarily hypnotized, then she shook herself and managed a slight bow. She shyly offered the plate to Dae. “I…I made these for your breakfast, Consort. I hope you like them.”
“Many thanks,” Dae said, accepting the plate and letting their hands brush together in the exchange. Aaliyah’s return to shyness was absolutely adorable…and sensing the curious eyes of the other women upon them, Dae found herself feeling playful. Setting the plate on her lap she took Aaliyah’s hand in her own and brought it to her lips. “If they are half as sweet as you, I’m sure they are delicious.”
Even her dusky complexion couldn’t hide the blush that bloomed in Aaliyah’s cheeks as Dae pressed a lingering kiss on the outer edge of palm. Her full lips split in a silent gasp, her pupils dilated, and a slight tremble seemed to weaken her legs. When Dae released her hand she stood there a moment longer, then, flicking a nervous glance to Rashida, she gave another little bow and hastened away, heading over to join her friends beneath the tree.
Dae took a bite from one of the pastries; they were indeed very tasty, filled with rice and soft cheese and plump, sweet raisins. Rashida gave her an amusedly scolding look. “I see I am not the only one who likes to tease. You have quite a wicked streak in you, child. That girl looked thoroughly besotted—not a word I would normally use to describe Aaliyah.”
Chewing her treat, Dae gave Rashida a wry grin. “I think she’s just a little overwhelmed by all the fun we had last night.”
“Having heard the sounds emanating from your yurt, I cannot say I blame her.” Watching the other girls surround Aaliyah and begin what was no doubt a fresh interrogation, Rashida’s lips pursed. “If I might, however, offer a word of caution…” She paused, regarding Dae with a look that invited her to decline.
Dae looked at her, suddenly worried, but nodded. “Of course. Did I do something wrong?”
“Not at all, Dae. But…” Rashida said, choosing her words with visible care. “…there are a few things you may be wise to bear in mind when you are…shall we say, adding spice to your lovemaking with Zafirah.”
Dae set the cup on her knee and gave Rashida her full attention. “Such as?”
“Such as…the fact that you are Consort, and now hold a position of authority among the Jaharri. You are new to the role, I realize, and I hope I am not overstepping my bounds. I only wish to point out that as Consort, your actions may have a more significant influence on those around you now than they did when you were but a pleasure-servant.”
Dae shifted uncomfortably on her seat, concerned she had inadvertently crossed a line. “Well…I know that, I suppose. And I’m learning more about what’s expected of me as Zafirah’s mate. Inaya and the others have been teaching me a great deal. After all, a part of the reason Zafirah brought me here was to learn more about the nomad tribes.”
“Indeed, but I am speaking of smaller, more personal, ways your interactions can affect the lives of others. Take Aaliyah as an example.”
“Aaliyah?” Dae looked over to where the nomad girl was conversing quietly with her friends, all of whom appeared extremely giggly and fascinated by whatever she was telling them. “What about her?”
“Well, Aaliyah is one of the finest hunters in the tribe,” Rashida said. “Her skills as an archer are without rival among her peers. Since she came of age, she has let it be known that her fondest wish is to join the ranks of Zafirah’s scouts, serving under Falak. It is a noble aspiration; she would bring great honor to the tribe if she achieves her goal.” Rashida paused here, then added, “When you invited her to join you and Zafirah last night, you hastened her toward that goal.”
“I did?” Now Dae’s eyebrows knit in genuine confusion. “How?”
“Zafirah does not take her pleasure blindly. I know it may seem that way at times,” Rashida chuckled, “but all those she has ever taken to her bed were chosen for a reason…for some quality they possessed that earned them my daughter’s attention. It is entirely probable Aaliyah’s skill alone would have allowed her to fulfill her dream, but after last night, many will be watching her with interest.”
“Because I asked her to join us?” Dae considered this a moment, not really having given much thought to how her invitation might affect Aaliyah’s standing. “Is…is that a bad thing?”
“No, child, not at all. Aaliyah is most deserving of such attention, and I cannot fault you for choosing her. But you should be aware that in taking her to your bed, you also bestowed your favor upon her. That being the case, you might be wise to consider an old Herak saying; ‘A prize of any value should not be won easily, or often.’” Dae looked even more confused, and Rashida explained. “If your affections are the prize, Dae, then Aaliyah has already won them. I might suggest, therefore, you do not diminish the value of your affections by bestowing them on another during this visit.” She drew Dae’s attention back to the other women and added, “Now that they understand your union with Zafirah is not an obstacle to their hopes, but rather an additional incentive, they will doubtless try to catch your fancy. My advice is, do not make their chase an easy one. Instead, take some time to enjoy and build upon what you have already shared with Aaliyah. Spend some more time with her…and if you wish it, I am certain she would not say no to a second invitation.”
Understanding now what Rashida was saying, Dae relaxed and considered the advice. Although the prospect of bedding another of the nomad women was tempting, Dae could see the wisdom in deepening an already intimate bond further…and she’d already made her point. Besides, Aaliyah was a charming and intriguing young woman. Getting to know her better outside of the bedroom could be fun.
* * *
Their time among the Herak passed by quicker than Dae might have liked. In El’Kasari she had worried how well she would handle a lengthy stay in the isolated camp, away from the comforts of the palace and her friends in the harem, but Dae was enjoying their visit more than she’d expected to. The nomads shared their lives with her so completely, so openly, it was almost like she’d been adopted into a large and boisterous family. Dae realized a part of this reception came from the fact that they were visiting the tribe during a period of the year when there was little to do but endure; a time when boredom was always near at hand, and any diversion was welcome. A part of it was simply the fact that Zafirah loved her, and they in turn loved Zafirah. But it was also Dae herself. Having been raised among nobility she was no stranger to winning hearts…and the nomadic tribesmen were readily charmed.
Dae spent her days playing and learning with the children, exploring the surrounding desert plains with Zafirah and the hunters of the tribe, and eagerly taking her first lessons in falconry with Kalid and Balakav. Kalid proved to be an excellent teacher, patient and insightful, and Dae gained proficiency in the skill with remarkable speed. The experience of bonding with and training the birds was fascinating, and the two of them spent many hours together out on the plains around the camp, guiding the falcons with their whistle-calls through swooping and soaring aerial maneuvers.
Dae also grew closer to Rashida, the two women trading life stories and learning more of each other as the days passed. In the process Dae gained a deeper insight into her beloved Zafirah, learning more of her history and upbringing—of the fierce admiration she held for her father, and the determination to honor his memory that had led her to become such a revered figurehead among the Jaharri. Since Rashida had also once held the title of Consort, Dae found her a wonderful source of guidance and reassurance regarding a role she only faintly understood.
“I have seen many seek greater station and power in life, never understanding the true nature of what they sought,” she told Dae on a foraging trip out among the tussock grasses. “My husband was a wiser man than any of them, and he made certain to share his wisdom with our daughter. Zafirah knows that to rule is an act of service, not a birthright or an entitlement. As Consort, you shall share in both the privileges and the duties of her title…but always remember, Dae, that the Scion exists to serve the Jaharri people and to keep the ancient Peace.”
Dae, whose own father had often complained about the petty back-stabbing and underhanded manipulations of his rival lords, found Rashida’s perspective on the concept of rulership to be far more civilized and honorable than that held by most noble-born in her homeland. In the Heartland, the various lords were always seeking to expand their wealth and influence, viewing themselves as superior in all ways to those they ruled over.
Whenever Zafirah was busy with her troops or other tasks, Dae often kept company with Aaliyah, who seemed dreamily enraptured by the attention. The first time Dae enquired after her talents as an archer, Aaliyah was quick to offer a demonstration of her skill, leading her to the area where the hunters trained with bow and javelin. It was quite a display; standing next to her as she fit an arrow to the string of her recurve bow, Dae understood the reason for Aaliyah’s impressive physique and calloused fingers. Witnessing her in her element—those corded forearms flexing as she drew the bowstring back to her ear and sighted at a target, all the power in her lithe body so focused and contained—Dae felt her pulse quicken. She couldn’t help but find the whole demonstration incredibly sexy…her mind lapsing into fantasy at the sight of such sensual strength and concentrated control.
Aaliyah was indeed a skilled archer, her arrows striking the dead center of each target in turn. Each but the last, that is, when Dae, unable to help herself, leaned against her as she steadied her aim and whispered a few words of suggestion into her ear that had nothing whatsoever to do with archery. Aaliyah trembled, her fingers released the bowstring and the arrow sailed clear over the target and into the rocky desert beyond. Aaliyah’s friends who had gathered to watch the display laughed at her distracted shot…but their laughter faded the moment Dae pulled her into an apologetic, lingering kiss.
That night, Aaliyah joined the Scion and her Consort for a second round of passion.
A week into their stay a sandstorm rolled over the camp, lasting a full day and most of the night. The tribesmen seemed to revel grimly in the chaos caused by the storm; they set about securing the campsite, brought their animals under the protective cover of large, hastily erected yurts, or even into their own sleeping quarters, all while making certain none of the rambunctious children got lost in all the excitement. Although the howling winds and lashing sands terrified Dae, Zafirah came up with a clever distraction…and once again, Aaliyah found herself the fortunate beneficiary. She spent the entire duration of the storm in their yurt, and perhaps it was her growing sense of ease around the two of them, or their increasing familiarity with one another’s bodies, or it may have simply been inspiration drawn from the wild, elemental forces that roiled outside, but this third encounter became a marathon of blistering intensity. By the time the winds died and the skies cleared, an exhausted Aaliyah needed Zafirah’s help making her way back to her own yurt for some desperately needed rest.
None of the other young women in the tribe seemed to take offense that Aaliyah was the only one to receive this attention, and Dae came to realize how sound Rashida’s advice had been. Although many initiated attempts to catch her eye, there seemed to be a tacit understanding that Aaliyah would be the only one to receive an invitation to join their pleasure-taking. Their seductive overtures seemed less like hopeful advances than they did promises of erotic delights which might be enjoyed the next time Dae and Zafirah came to visit.
Absorbed in all these many distracting joys, Dae could never have imagined that her time among the Herak was coming to an abbreviated end.
The diversion came late in the day not long before they had planned to start the return trek back to El’Kasari. The tribe kept dozens of lookouts posted at a distance around their camp, always alert to a possible raid from one of their traditional enemies, and Zafirah’s scouts had added themselves to that number. When a pair of these outriders came galloping into the camp, calling urgently for Jestart and the Scion, Dae joined a large number of curious others to see what was going on.
“A small caravan,” she heard the lookout report breathlessly. “Outlanders crossing from the west. They told us they became disoriented in the desert wastes and were set upon by renegade bandits this morning. We intercepted them only when it became clear they were heading toward the camp, but…a few of them are injured. They offer what tribute they have in exchange for water and healing, and direction back to safer territory.”
Jestart quickly ordered a few men to go gather the requested supplies. A buzz of whispers rose among the gathering; this was a welcome break from the monotony of routine.
“And what of the renegades?” Zafirah asked, and Dae could hear a predatory excitement in her voice. “How many were there?”
“Few. They struck fast and then retreated back to the south,” the lookout said.
“Likely weighed down with loot and moving slowly,” Zafirah guessed, her expression alive with hunting glee. She gave one of the spahi a sharp nod. “Saddle the horses and prepare to ride! I will take two dozen swords and a dozen scouts. We will return with you to help the outlanders, then we shall see if the jackals can be run down.”
“As you wish, Scion.”
Zafirah turned back to Dae and gave her a grin. Dae returned it, not surprised her mate intended to give chase. The lust for battle was as much a part of Zafirah’s nature as her lust for sex. She had been training with the Herak warriors all week, running sparring drills and taking measure of their individual talents, and after all the time spent practicing and training she was clearly excited at the prospect of more serious action.
“This should not take long,” Zafirah said, giving her a quick hug. “It is doubtful the raiders will anticipate pursuit, so their tracks should be clear and easy to follow. I expect I will be back by your side for the evening meal.”
“That’s alright, Zafirah,” Dae said, looking up at the taller woman with an indulgent smile. “You go and have fun. To be honest, I think a chase like this is just what Simhana needs. She’s been in a sour mood since we arrived.”
“War horses do not idle well,” Zafirah agreed.
“Perhaps you could take Aaliyah with you,” Dae suggested, pointing to where the young woman stood watching the spahi attend their mounts with a look of intense longing. “I think she’s recovered from our last tryst, and she knows the territory well.”
“A fine suggestion…though it would rob you of her company in my absence,” Zafirah chuckled, nudging her with her hip. She gave a sharp whistle to attract Aaliyah’s attention, and nodded for her to join the assembled riders. Aaliyah’s face lit up with joy and she immediately slid her bow over her shoulder and sprinted over to the horses. Zafirah planted a gentle kiss on Dae’s forehead and cupped her cheek, then turned and went to join her troops and her prancing, impatient mare. Mounting Simhana in a fluid movement, Zafirah grinned back at Dae and waved before leading the others up onto the western ridge.
Dae watched the mounted figures crest the rise overlooking the camp and disappear beyond, heading toward the setting sun. The tribesmen returned to their chores now that the excitement was over, the children taking the opportunity to recruit Dae into one of their lively, vaguely warlike, games.
She was going to miss the camp…Rashida and Aaliyah and the boisterous children. But Dae comforted her melancholy feelings with the knowledge that she would return another time, and there were many other tribes throughout the desert she would meet in the future. The experience had opened her eyes to what life in the desert really was…far from the city, where the people embraced the traditional, more simplistic ways of survival their ancestors had practiced for centuries. Dae also reminded herself that she would be returning to Inaya and the other pleasure-servants, whom she missed a great deal…not to mention the mysterious hafl al’iilkhlas multahab.
After the game ended Dae headed back to her yurt, sweaty and tired, intending to wash up before helping to set up for the evening meal. Entering the yurt, it took her a long moment to realize she wasn’t alone; a figure, clad in the traditional clothing favored by the Herak men, stood in a far corner, back turned to her. Dae cleared her throat.
“May I help you?”
The figure turned, and in the low light it took her a second to make out his features. When she did, the shock froze her in her tracks; the man’s skin was light-toned, and the growth of beard about his chin was ash-blonde. The eyes gazing back at her were deep blue, calm and intelligent. This was no tribesman…and Dae took a step back.
As soon as she retreated, the man held up a hand and said, “Please, my lady, wait. I mean you no harm, I promise.”
“‘My lady?’” Dae studied the man more closely. His voice was low and cultured, and his accent impossibly familiar. “You are from the Heartland. Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“My name is Jarod…Jarod of the Far Spire.” he said. “I was sent by your father to rescue you…to bring you home.”
Dae’s jaw dropped. An avalanche of tangled emotions swept through her, locking any words in her throat as she struggled to sort through them. My father?!
Jarod took a step toward her, making no sudden moves, keeping his hands raised peacefully. “Please, my lady, we haven’t much time. We must be gone from the camp before the Scion returns—”
“No!” The mention of Zafirah shook Dae from her surprise. “No, you don’t understand. I’m not a captive, I’m…” She stopped, struggling to find the words that would explain to this man all that had happened to her, all the changes she had been through. But she knew there were none to be found. At length she said simply, “I’m safe. And I can’t return with you.”
Jarod nodded. “I understand, my lady. I’ve learned of your relationship with the Scion. I know you have joined with her…and that you did so of your own choosing. It’s not my place to judge the decisions you’ve made since you were abducted.” His eyes were sympathetic, and she realized with some surprise that he did indeed understand. “But I swore to your father I would not rest until you’d been safely returned to him…and I cannot break my pledge.”
“But…I can’t leave! Perhaps I could write you a letter…I-I was working on one before we came out here. You could take it back to my father, explain to him that I’m safe and happy!” Gods, why didn’t I work harder on the damned letter before now! she thought. She’d managed to half-fill a piece of parchment with a message for her parents, but the words never seemed sufficient to explain all that had happened to her. With everything else going on, it had been easier to just set the task aside, let it wait until she could get it just right…and now it appeared she’d waited too long.
Jarod was shaking his head. “I’m sorry, my lady…but I am no messenger. You must come with me now.”
Dae sensed the shift in his tone; her muscles tensed. “I can’t!” she insisted, no longer pleading but stern.
“You must.”
“No.” She took another step back, eyeing Jarod warily. “There are a hundred tribesmen just outside,” she said, struggling to keep her voice from trembling. “If I scream, they’ll be here in seconds. I’m sure you’ve heard that the Jaharri are not a forgiving or merciful people.”
“No.” Jarod stopped, his left hand reaching into his belt for something she couldn’t identify. “No, they are not. All the more reason for us to leave quickly.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I wish there were another way, my lady,” Jarod sighed, seeming genuinely regretful. “But I’m afraid I must insist.”
He moved swifter than Dae had thought possible, closing the distance between them in a single lunging stride as he pulled what looked like a rag from his belt. Panic seized Dae as his fingers closed around her arm, grabbing her hard and pulling her toward him. With his other hand he pressed the cloth, wet and foul-smelling, over her face. She drew breath to scream and her lungs filled with an acrid, chemical taste. She tried to fight, tried to claw at him and break his grip, but her muscles slackened against her will. She would have fallen had Jarod not wrapped a supporting arm around her.
As her vision blurred and she sank into a velvety oblivion, Dae heard his voice whispering in her ear. “Forgive me, my lady. There is no other way.”