* * *
The fires were out in the encampment of the El Sabir, but the flames had left devastation in their wake.
Tess had begun to smell the smoke from over two miles away. Her eyes smarted as she rode beside Galen through the encampment, but she didn’t know whether the stinging was from smoke or tears. Over half the tents had gone up in flames, and it was heart-wrenching to see entire families searching among the blackened rubble of their possessions, trying to salvage a cooking pot, a bit of bedding, a straw doll.
“Did he have to burn the tents?” she asked huskily.
“No.” Galen’s expression was grim. “But he probably enjoyed it.” He reined up before a scorched, ragged tent. “This is the tent of Dala, the mother of the child who was killed. You don’t have to come in with me.”
“I’ll come.”
Galen dismounted, came around, and helped her down from Pavda. “You may be sorry.”
Tess was sorry. The moment she entered the small tent, she saw the child.
The little boy lying on the pallet couldn’t have been over three years old, and his long lashes curled peacefully on tan cheeks that still held the silky bloom of babyhood. He could have been asleep, but slumber did not have this quality of tragic stillness.
The thin young woman who knelt beside the child was not long out of childhood herself, but the eyes she lifted as they came into the tent were old with pain.
“I sorrow with you, Dala,” Galen said gently. “Is there anything I can do to ease you?”
The woman shook her head. “They broke him, Majiron,” she whispered. “They rode him down as if he were a mongrel dog that got in their way.”
Galen’s hand clasped the woman’s shoulder.
“They saw him.” The woman dazedly shook her head. “They saw him and still did not swerve aside. He was barely three, Majiron.”
“Where is your husband?”
“With the other men at the council tent.” Her eyes were brimming with tears. “He cannot bear to look at him.” Her hand reached out and caressed the little boy’s unruly curls. “And I cannot bear to let him go.”
Tess’s throat ached as she looked at the woman. She wanted to run far away from this place of sorrow and death. Dear heaven, she was full of pain.
“I’ll send him to you,” Galen said.
The woman shook her head. “I must prepare my son for burial. My husband feels my pain as well as his own. He cannot bear the burden of both right now.”
“The village women?”
“They have their own families to care for. It is a bad time.”
“I’ll stay.” Tess didn’t realize she had spoken until the words were out. She took a step forward and fell to her knees beside the woman. “If you will permit me?” Dear God, why had she made the offer? She had no wish to be here.
“I don’t care,” the woman said dully, still looking at the child. “Whatever the majiron wishes.”
“You wish to stay?” Galen asked Tess in a low voice.
“No.” Her voice was trembling. “But I’ve got to stay.”
Galen’s gaze searched her face before he nodded slowly. “I’ll station Said outside the tent. If you have need of anything, send him to the council tent to get me.”
She could not stop looking at the face of the child. Sweet Jesu, he was almost a baby. How would she have felt if this babe had been her own?
Galen hesitated, and she could feel his stare on her face.
“Go on,” she whispered. “You can do no more here.”
She heard him move and then felt a current of air as the tent flap was opened. After the flap fell, she was silent a moment. What did she do now? Dala seemed to be in a stupor of grief, and Tess had never been good with people. Yet she had to do something.
Very well. She wasn’t good with people, but she knew horses. She would apply what she knew of animals to Dala. Dala was beaten and wanted only to lie down and wallow in grief. But if a sick horse was allowed to lie down, that was often the end for him. So, Tess reasoned, she must keep the woman moving.
She reached over and shook Dala’s thin shoulder. “I know it’s not fair, but you must guide me.”
Dala lifted dull eyes. “What?”
“I want to help you with him, but I don’t know how to go about it. What’s the first thing we must do?”
The woman stirred, temporarily brought out of her numbness by the necessity of responding to Tess’s ignorance and need. She rubbed her temple and then said haltingly, “First, we should bathe him.”
Tess nodded briskly. “Then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll go ask Said to fetch water.” She stood up and moved toward the flap of the tent. “Yes, that sounds sensible.”
But what was sensible in a world where innocent babies were murdered?
She didn’t leave Dala’s tent until the sun was setting.
Said immediately rose to his feet as she stepped out of the tent. “You have not eaten. We’ve set up our own camp near the stream at the edge of the El Sabir encampment and found enough game for a stew. May I get you something, Majira?”
“Not now.” She was too weary and heartsick to think of food. “Where is my husband?”
He nodded at a large tent several hundred yards away from Where they stood. “Still at the council tent.”
“Take me to him.”
“It’s not fitting for a woman to disturb—”
She wheeled on him, her hands clenched into fists. “Merde, I have no intention of intruding on the men’s precious council. Though only the sweet Virgin knows why a woman should have no say in these matters when their children are butchered like—” She turned away. It wasn’t Said’s fault that life was unfair to women. Or perhaps it was his fault, and Galen’s fault, and her father’s, and all the men who dictated that women should bear children and then fail to give them a safe world in which to raise them. She strode past Said toward the council tent. “I’ll wait until the meeting is done, but I must speak to the majiron as soon as possible.”
To her surprise Kalim wasn’t inside the council tent but sitting cross-legged on the ground outside, waiting. “Why aren’t you attending the council? I would have thought Galen would need your support.”
Kalim shook his head. “I was born in these hills and raised with these people. He knows I wouldn’t be able to keep a cool head.”
Tess gazed bleakly at the destruction around them. “Can he?”
“It’s not easy for him.” Kalim’s expression became shadowed. “But he’s stronger than the rest of us.”
“That poor baby.” Rage flared again in her eyes. “Canaille. I’m not sure I won’t go after Tamar myself.”
“Such ferocity.” The faintest hint of a smile touched Kalim’s lips. Then it faded, and she could feel him withdrawing from her again. “Why are you here? How may I help you?”
“You can get Dala’s husband out of that meeting and send him back to her.” Tess wearily ran her fingers through her hair. “I’ve done all I can. She needs him.”
“Hanal doesn’t wish to—”
“Dear God in heaven,” Tess exploded. “I don’t care what he wishes! She is going to bury her son tomorrow, and she needs him. Do I have to go in and get him myself?”
He stared at her impassively for a moment before turning and moving toward the closed flap of the tent. “No, that’s not necessary. I will go in and find him and make sure he goes to her.”
“You will?”
“Why do you look so surprised? How could a savage like me withstand the wisdom of a woman of the West?”
She ignored his mocking words. “Why are you doing this?”
Kalim glanced over his shoulder. “Because you’re right,” he said simply. “Hanal has no right to indulge his own grief and rage for vengeance and give no comfort to his loved ones.”
Kalim was clearly very effective when he chose to act. A few moments later she watched a grim Kalim hustle a surly-faced young man from the council tent and half-push,
half-lead him down the street toward Dala’s tent.
“What’s amiss?”
She turned to see Galen.
“Why did Kalim come for Hanal?”
“Because I told him I’d go in and get him if he didn’t,” Tess said. “Dala needed him.”
He frowned. “How is she?”
“A little better, I think. I treated her like a horse, and it seemed to work, but—”
He blinked. “A horse?”
“You know, I kept her walking.”
For an instant the tension and weariness in his expression lightened as a smile tugged at his lips. “Very wise.”
“I don’t know about the wisdom of it. But it was all I could think to do.”
“Instincts are usually correct in situations like this.”
“Are they?” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been in a situation like this.” She added quickly, “But I’m doing very well, you understand. I just realized Hanal could help Dala more than I could now. You didn’t have to leave the council.”
“You’re doing splendidly,” he said gently. “As for the council, I left them to their quarreling.” His voice was heavy with weariness. “I’ll go back later.” He took her elbow and propelled her toward the camp the El Zalan had set up at the far end of the El Sabir encampment. “It’s much worse than I thought here. I’ll order food to be prepared and then send you back to Zalandan with Kalim.”
“Said’s already prepared a meal.” She shook her head. “And I’m not going back. I promised Dala I’d be here to bid farewell to her son.” Her glance traveled around the burned tents of the encampment. “And God knows there’s work enough to be done.”
“Your work?”
“I’m here. Why should I not make myself useful? We’ll have to send back to Zalandan for food and supplies, and I’ll have to visit each family and determine what and how much is needed.” She shrugged. “Besides, I believe it would be beneficial for Dala to keep stirring after the funeral tomorrow, and I cannot count on her husband to keep her too busy. I, believe if I show her I depend on her to help me, she’ll heal faster.”
“You have it all planned.” Galen’s gaze was on her face. “This isn’t your problem. You needn’t involve yourself in it.”
“They need me.”
Galen nodded. “Yes, they need all the help you can give them.”
“Then let us speak no more about it. I’ll stay until you return to Zalandan. Do you think you’ll be able to persuade them not to go after Tamar?”
“If I have the eloquence of Lucifer and the patience of Job.”
“They’ve lost a great deal.”
“And will lose more if they start after Tamar. He’s a raider, skilled in the battle and the chase.”
She offered tentatively, “You could help them.”
“Yes.” He paused. “But I won’t. The bloodletting has to stop.” He released her arm as they reached the camp. “There has to be another way.” His lips tightened. “Damn Tamar!”
She had been a witness to this pain and violence for only a single day, and yet she felt wounded and scarred. How much worse it must have been for Galen, who had grown up in the midst of this slaughter and bloodshed. “What will you do now?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Go back and argue with them, I suppose.” He reached out and traced the dark imprints beneath her eyes. “It’s not been an easy day for you.”
“Easier for me than for the El Sabir.” And she was not sorry she had come. These sad hours had enriched and deepened her in some mysterious fashion. She felt as if she had started down a path that never could be retraced. “Easier for me than for you.”
That truth was also clear to her. The tragic sights with which she had been assaulted had temporarily blinded her to Galen’s agony of spirit, but now she became acutely conscious of it.
“He’s stronger than the rest of us.”
But what price did he pay for disciplined strength?
“Don’t go back tonight,” she urged impulsively. “You’re too weary. Wait until tomorrow.”
“I’m touched by your concern.”
She grimaced. “But you won’t change your mind.”
His expression softened miraculously, but he shook his head. “Tempers are too hot. I have to calm them.” He glanced back at the council tent. “I should be there right now.”
“Nonsense. You can wait at least until you eat. Sit down.” She pushed him down on a log near the campfire and moved toward the large pot simmering over the blaze. “I’ll get you a bowl of stew and a cup of tea.”
“I have no time to—”
“Of course you do.” She frowned sternly at him over her shoulder. “Rest.”
A flicker of amusement that held an element of tenderness crossed his face. “As you command, Majira.”
It was nearly dawn when Tess roused to find Galen slipping under the blanket beside her, drawing her back against him spoon fashion.
“Did all go well?” she asked drowsily.
“No.” He stretched out his long legs and buried his face in her hair. “Go back to sleep.”
“Don’t be absurd.” She yawned and turned on her side to face him. “If you wanted me to sleep, you should have lied to me. They’re going after Tamar?”
“They’ve agreed to wait for three months. If I haven’t brought Tamar before a tribunal in that time, they’ll launch a foray against his encampment.”
“What kind of tribunal?”
He paused. “A tribunal of the United Tribes of Sedikhan.”
Her eyes widened. “In three months? You said it might take years.”
Galen’s lips twisted sardonically. “That’s why they felt it safe to compromise. They’ll appease me and still have their bloodbath.”
“What are you going to do?”
“What can I do?” His face lit with a sudden reckless smile. “I’m going to unite the whole damn country in three months.”
She stared at him in fascination, held captive by the forceful magnetism he was emitting. “You’re not discouraged?”
“How could I be discouraged? The situation is beyond ridiculous; it’s completely impossible.”
And he was responding to a challenge with an excitement and exhilaration she had never seen in him. It was because his waiting had at last ended, she suddenly realized. No matter how slim the chances of success, he was now free to act. “You’re going to tilt at windmills?”
He shook his head. “I’m going to talk them into stopping their whirling.”
He was striking a spark within her. She leaned forward, her face alight. “How?”
“First, I’m going to visit the sheikhs of the nine principal tribes of Sedikhan and try to persuade them to come to a meeting to discuss unity.”
“Will they come?”
“Oh, they’ll come all right. I’ll call a carobel.”
The word was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it. “What’s that?”
“A festival. Food, music, dancing, and the carobel race. Some of the sheikhs may not want to talk unity, but they’ll come anyway if a festival is in the offing. Once I have them together, I’ll have the chance of molding them to my will.”
“Where will this festival take place?”
“In the foothills near Zalandan. It’s as close as I can manage to neutral ground.” His brow creased with absorption. “If I can make some progress with the visits to the individual tribes, I’ll have a chance. There’s a possibility I may be able to use Tamar’s raids to advantage. He’s been growing too strong for the liking of most of the sheikhs, and his raids have caused a good deal of bitterness. With the threat Tamar’s posing and the added prestige of my marriage to a Tamrovian princess, I may be able to manipulate them into the fold.”
“Then why not take the Tamrovian princess with you and display her properly?”
He looked taken aback. “What?”
She raised herself on her elbow. “Isn’t that why
I’m here?” Her face flushed with eagerness. “Take me with you.”
“You wish to go?”
She nodded briskly. “We’ll need to spend a few more days here helping these poor people, but then I’ll be free to go.” She frowned. “Of course, I’ll have to send a message to Viane, asking her to continue Alexander’s training. He mustn’t get out of practice.”
“By all means, we must make arrangements for Alexander.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “You’re very enthusiastic. Why?”
She wasn’t sure. Perhaps she was moved to share his weariness and loneliness, or perhaps she simply wanted to be a part of his great adventure. Either explanation would reveal a vulnerability she wasn’t ready to display, and she quickly lowered her gaze to the pulse beating in the hollow of his throat. “We struck a bargain. It’s only honorable for me to fulfill my part as soon as possible.”
He stiffened. “And you’ll be free to leave Sedikhan sooner.”
Leave? The thought was the farthest thing from her mind. She felt hurt, but rallied to say coolly, “That’s true.”
“Then there’s no question I should let you accompany me.” He drew her close, cradling her cheek in the hollow of his shoulder. “I must take full advantage of your presence while I have it.”
Chapter 9
Tess smiled politely at the old sheikh, but received a haughty glare in return.
After only two minutes in his presence she knew that their visit to Sheikh Sarum Hakim of the El Kabbar tribe was not going to be particularly pleasant. She kept her smile firmly in place while she wondered what the old dragon would do if she stepped forward and tugged on his long white beard.
A flash of amusement lightened her fatigue and discouragement until the sheikh rudely turned his back on her and spoke to Galen. “We sup with the elders in an hour, but I wish to have conversation with you before.” He snapped his fingers, and a veiled woman in dark robes came scurrying forward. “Take the majira to the visitors’ tent.”
“We’ve brought a small tent of our own,” Galen said. “We need not trouble you.”
“You refuse my hospitality?”
Galen shrugged. “That was not my intention. I merely sought to save you the bother.” He smiled, “Naturally, we shall be glad to accept whatever arrangements you’ve decreed for us.” Galen nodded to Said, hovering a few steps behind them. “Make sure the majira has whatever she needs.”
The Golden Barbarian Page 17
