The Golden Barbarian

by Iris Johansen

  “It has a matching fringed shawl and even a foolish gold parasol to carry with it.” She touched her bare throat. “It’s not at all modest. Perhaps I should wear the shawl. Hakim will glare at me again.”

  He lifted his brows. “Do you care?”

  “Well, Viane said I mustn’t damage your consequence.” She looked straight ahead at her reflection and said casually, “She seemed to think you would follow the traditions of the carobel.”

  “Whenever possible.”

  “She said most of the men visit the kadine tent.”

  “True.”

  “Will you?” She still avoided his glance as she rushed on, “Not that it matters. I only wanted to know.”

  “If it doesn’t matter, why are you interested?”

  She scowled at him. “I don’t like … it bothers me.”

  “Why?”

  “How should I know?” she asked in exasperation. “I just don’t like to think of you with—” She broke off. “Are you going to them?”

  “It would break tradition not to visit them.” He stood up and started toward her. “The other men might doubt my virility.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “Hakim would think me crazed.”

  “Stop toying with me. Are you going to visit them?”

  His index finger traced the pearls on the bodice of the gown. “Did you wear this to persuade me not to visit them?”

  “Certainly not.”

  “That’s good. Because it would have been a mistake.”

  She frowned uncertainly, “It would?”

  He nodded. “If you wished to persuade me, you should have worn nothing at all. I much prefer you without clothes.” He smiled. “But it pleases me that you don’t wish me to fornicate with another woman. You do realize that if I make this supreme sacrifice, it’s only fair that you make a special effort to please me? The kadines have been taught many delightfully wicked ways to pleasure a man.” He slipped a finger into the bodice and rubbed it back and forth across her nipple. “Would you like to learn them?”

  She could feel her body flowing helplessly toward him. “Would I find them interesting?”

  “I guarantee it.”

  She moistened her lips with her tongue. “Then I see no reason why I shouldn’t—”

  “Galen, Tamar is here!”

  Kalim burst into the tent.

  “Tamar?” Galen’s hand fell away from Tess, his muscles tensing. “Are you sure?”

  Kalim nodded. “I saw him riding into the encampment myself.”

  “How many?”

  “Alone.”

  A little of the tension ebbed from Galen’s stance. “Good. Then there’s no immediate threat. Bring him here.”

  Kalim nodded and strode out of the tent.

  “Tamar,” Tess whispered. “Dear God, and the festival hasn’t even started.”

  “I expected him to appear sometime. Now is better than later.” Galen turned to face her. “Go to Viane’s tent. I don’t want him to see—”

  “Galen, how could you be so unkind?” Tamar walked into the tent. “Would I have had a carobel and not have invited you?”

  Galen’s face became expressionless. “Your raids have made you less than popular to the majority of my guests. I doubt if you expected to be welcomed.”

  “Not by those swine!” Tamar shrugged as he strolled over and selected a plump fig from a large wooden fruit bowl. “But you’re always glad to see me, aren’t you?” His strong white teeth sank into the fig as his gaze wandered to Tess. “How grand you look. Like the princess you are.” His voice was low and silky. “It was truly wicked of Galen not to tell me of his plans for you. I hear you’ve been traveling the countryside with my old friend. Have you properly impressed these fools with your splendor?”

  “I believe we’ve had a certain amount of success,” Tess said coolly. “And possibly my presence contributed to it.”

  Tamar took another bite of the juicy fruit. “So haughty.” His white teeth flashed in his bearded face. “I believe I like the princess better than the strumpet, Galen. Shall I tell you why?”

  “No, but you can tell me why you’re here.”

  Tamar’s gaze shifted back to Galen. “Why, to give you one more chance to turn your back on this foolishness. Send these sheep back to their own encampments and forget trying to persuade them to a unity nobody wants but you.”

  “One you certainly don’t want.”

  “I admit it wouldn’t suit me. My nature wouldn’t tolerate the chains of union.” His smile widened. “And neither would yours. I’d wager you’d break your own fine laws within six months after a union was formed.”

  “You’re wrong, Tamar.”

  Tamar shook his head. “Oh no, I know you very well, my friend. Your silly ideals will stand only as long as the provocation is not too great.” His smile faded. “And I assure you I’d provide that provocation. Send them away, Galen.”

  Galen squarely met his gaze. “By the time they leave, there will be a united Sedikhan.”

  Tamar muttered a curse. “And it will declare me an outlaw?”

  Galen nodded.

  Tamar glared at him. “This is ceasing to amuse me. You’re going too far. I warn you—” He struggled with his rage. Finally, a tight smile curled on his lips. “Unfortunate choice, Galen.” He turned and moved toward the opening of the tent. He stopped in the entrance to look back at Tess. “You didn’t want to know, but I think I’ll tell you anyway. The reason I like the princess better than the strumpet is that I’ve never rutted with a princess.” He paused. “Yet.”

  The next instant he was gone.

  Tess tried to suppress the shiver that rippled through her. No knife had been drawn, but this meeting had been inexpressibly more menacing than her last with Tamar.

  “I’m sending you back to Zalandan,” Galen said flatly.

  She whirled to face him. “Because of Tamar’s ugliness?” She shook her head. “I won’t go. I have a purpose here. No matter whether they disapprove of me or not, whenever those sheikhs look at me, it reminds them of your connection with Tamrovia.”

  “You leave in the morning. I’ll tell Kalim to escort you.”

  “And when he leaves me in Zalandan, I’ll be ten minutes behind him riding back here. Would you rather have me traveling alone and unescorted than under your protection?”

  His hands clenched into fists. “You don’t know Tamar. I won’t have—” He broke off as he saw her set lips and squared jaw and muttered a low oath. “Lord, you’re obstinate. Don’t you understand? Tamar doesn’t make idle threats, and he threatened you.”

  “And you also.”

  “It’s my battle, not yours.”

  She didn’t answer.

  He threw up his hands and uttered another curse before turning on his heel and striding from the tent.

  He was wrong, she thought. Didn’t he realize that his battles would be hers always? As long as she lived she would be

  As long as she lived.

  Shock made her go rigid as she stared blindly at the tent opening through which he had disappeared. Merde, what was she thinking? She wanted to be bound to no man.

  Yet she was bound to Galen Ben Raschid, not only by vows and the pleasure of the flesh, but by a deeper bond.

  “No!” She wanted no bonds that would hold her to either Galen or Sedikhan. She wanted to be free. It was not love. What she felt was only lust and respect for a man possessing unusual qualities. Their companionship and joint purpose had brought them closer than was common, but it couldn’t be—

  And he did not love her.

  Pain swept through her, catching her off guard. If she didn’t love him, then why did that realization hurt her?

  She glanced down at the brocade gown she had donned to keep him from going to another woman. She should have realized how dangerous a reaction that had been.

  She was only dazzled by the pleasure he gave her. Pauline had been similarly besotted with one of her swains for a
full two weeks before she came to her senses.

  But Tess was not Pauline, and she did not forget easily.

  She would not think about it. She would keep herself so busy that she would not have time to think about Galen or this mysterious link they had forged. She would distance herself from him.

  Yes, that was the thing to do. As she had kept Dala active in her time of trial, so she would treat her own affliction.

  It was after midnight when Tess heard Galen enter the tent and begin disrobing. She breathed shallowly, hoping he would believe she was asleep.

  Soon he slipped onto the divan beside her and lay there without speaking for a few moments.

  “You’re not sleeping.” Galen turned over to look at her in the darkness.

  “No.”

  “I would have returned earlier, but Hakim wished to discuss the laws of justice of—”

  “It didn’t matter.”

  He was silent a moment before he said haltingly, “I didn’t mean to swear at you. I was … concerned.”

  “My feelings aren’t so tender as to be damaged by harsh words.”

  “Aren’t they?” He reached over and gently touched the plane of her cheek. “I believe they are, kilen.”

  She shut her eyes tightly to keep back the tears. Foolishness. This wave of emotion sweeping through her was madness. Just because he touched her with tenderness was no reason to weep like an infant not yet out of swaddling clothes. Yes, the decision to distance herself from him had been even wiser than she had thought. “You’re mistaken. I’m only awake because it’s too hot to sleep.”

  “Odd. I thought the night cool.” His hand reached out and cupped her breast. “Your flesh isn’t warm.” He chuckled as he felt her nipple hardening beneath his palm. “But I do detect a certain heat.”

  “You’ve trained me well, haven’t you? You should be very proud.” She removed his hand and edged away from him. “I doubt that even Daphne learned her duty so quickly.”

  “Duty?”

  “To pleasure you, to bear your child. Isn’t that my duty?” Her voice was uneven, and she quickly steadied it. “Well, I’ve been thinking, and I believe I’ve done enough for the time being to demonstrate my compliance.”

  He stiffened. “And?”

  “I do not wish you to touch me.”

  He muttered an oath. “Dammit, Tess, I told you I regretted—”

  “Your words had nothing to do with my decision. Bed play was amusing, but I’ve grown weary of all this fondling.”

  He gave a disbelieving laugh. “You weren’t weary early this morning when you rode me like a wind demon on a—”

  “I do not wish to speak of it.” And she did not want to think of that joining. The memory was already starting a tingling through her body. “However, I’ll tell you if my feelings change.”

  “Thank you.” The irony in his voice verged on sarcasm. “I’ll be grateful for any small crumb you deign to toss me. I believe we’d best come to an understanding. I have no intention of—” He abruptly fell silent. When he spoke again, his tone was coaxing. “Talk to me, Tess. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Nothing.” She closed her eyes and edged a little farther away from him. “I’m weary. I wish to sleep now.”

  “Now, you wish to sleep?” Exasperation and frustration had banished gentleness. “You throw me into this turmoil and then you decide you’ll just go to sleep?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s not going to be—”

  She sensed he was subduing emotion, gathering control about him again.

  “Very well, sleep.” He turned over and presented his back to her. “I can wait.”

  He had been waiting all his life. Waiting for affection that never came, waiting for the wars to end, waiting for his task to be done. Dear Lord, she wanted to touch him in comfort. She wanted to hold him close and rock him and tell him …

  Her nails bit into her palms to keep herself from reaching out to him. She must not touch him. If she could endure this night, tomorrow would be better.

  She just must not touch him.…

  Chapter 10

  She hadn’t stopped since dawn.

  Galen paused in the entrance of Hakim’s tent and watched moodily as Tess moved swiftly across the clearing with Viane, talking brightly, gesturing almost feverishly. She had been gone when he awakened, and he had only caught glimpses of her for the greater part of the morning. She had been a whirlwind of energy, trailing behind Viane, helping to supervise the erecting and furnishing of the tents, and the setting up of the refreshment tables. He had even seen her frowning seriously as she tasted stew from one of the kettles simmering over the wood fires.

  Cooking, for Lord’s sake. Tess hated the humdrum details of even supervising the kitchens at the palace. He knew very well that something was amiss when she lingered over a cooking pot. But what was wrong, dammit?

  She had changed, grown evasive and cool. Yet coolness was foreign to her nature, and no one was more blunt than Tess. Last night when she had turned away from him, he had felt angered and betrayed, as if her withdrawal had robbed him of something precious.

  Pleasure. She had robbed him of the pleasure of her body. She had made a bargain, and had no right to cheat him. This rawness he felt was not hurt but frustration, because he had become accustomed to her body and no one else could satisfy him. He should have told her that he would not tolerate her spurning him as she had done last night. He should have forced her to give him what—

  “Is something wrong?”

  He had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t heard Kalim’s approach. “What could be wrong? Every sheikh of the nine tribes has arrived, and they’re even listening to me.”

  “You were frowning.” Kalim shrugged. “I came to tell you that we’ve received a message from one of the hill tribes.”

  Galen stiffened. “Tamar?”

  Kalim shook his head. “Tamar seems to have vanished into the air since he rode out. No, the word was about Sacha Rubinoff. He was sighted a half day’s journey from here.”

  “Sacha.” This news was probably not good if Sacha had chosen to leave the court and come back to Sedikhan, but still feelings of warmth surged through him. He had missed the dry humor of his old friend. “Send an escort to meet him. I doubt if Tamar has truly vanished.”

  “I’ve already dispatched an escort.” Kalim smiled. “I’m not a fool, Galen.”

  “No.” His gaze went back to Tess. He was the fool, watching his wife like a lovesick swain when his mind should be on important matters. “I’ll be with Lomed and Hakim for the rest of the afternoon. Let me know when Sacha arrives.”

  “Shall I bring him to you?”

  “No.” He glanced back at Tess. “Send him to the majira.” Perhaps Tess would confide to Sacha how he had offended her. Lord knew, he couldn’t take much more of this without exploding.

  The irony of the thought made him smile sardonically. He had waited patiently for almost twenty years for his dream of a united Sedikhan to come into flower, but one night of rejection from a small red-haired woman had him clenching his teeth and ready to rape her. “Tell him to come to my tent this evening for supper, and we’ll talk.”

  “Sacha!”

  Tess rushed across Viane’s tent and hurled herself into Sacha’s arms, then hastily backed away, wrinkling her nose. “Sweet heaven, but you stink of sweat and horse.”

  “Insults!” He drew back in mock hurt. “I rush to your side because Kalim told me you’d be devastated if I failed to let you greet me, and you offer me only insults.”

  “I could have waited until you had bathed. Never mind, I’ll hold my breath.” She went back into his arms and hugged him affectionately. “What news?”

  “Not good.” Sacha’s smile faded. “The Mother Superior wrote your father a letter inquiring if your journey had gone well and if Captain Braxgan had proved trustworthy.”

  Tess’s eyes widened. “Not good indeed.”

  “It m
ay not be so bad, imp.” Sacha touched her nose with his index finger. “Your father was going to set off the day after I left to find the captain and question him. Perhaps the good captain may have set sail from Diran.”

  “Or he may not.” She nibbled at her lower lip. “My father doesn’t know you’re involved?”

  “Not yet.”

  “He suspected nothing when you left hurriedly?”

  “My august father and brother were about to go on a fishing expedition on the Zandar River, and I told your father I was joining them.” He pulled a face. “The excuse was a trifle flimsy considering my feelings for their royal absurdities, but it served.”

  “Not for long. Diran has few inns, and you would be easily remembered.” She frowned. “And Galen is even more memorable.”

  “Denigration again,” Sacha said mournfully. “Only to you, brat.”

  “Sorry.” Her tone was abstracted. “My father’s not stupid. He’ll ask questions in Diran and find out about the marriage and be on his way to Zalandan in—” She stopped, trying to estimate. “How long do we have?”

  Sacha ceased trying to comfort and told her the truth. “A week. Perhaps less.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. “I was afraid he was on your heels. It may be enough. The carobel race is run tomorrow morning, and the final council meeting follows. Galen could have his union of the tribes before my father arrives.”

  “Events have progressed amazingly since I left Sedikhan. What was the impetus?”

  “Tamar.”

  Sacha nodded. “Every tribe we passed had news of his raids.” He turned and moved toward the entrance of the tent. “Well, as you so rudely suggested, I must bathe and change before I sup with Galen. You’ll be there?”

  “No.”

  He turned to look at her in surprise.

  She smiled with an effort. “I still have much to do. I’ll sup with Viane and perhaps join you later.”

  He studied her thoughtfully for a minute before he shrugged. “As you like.” He paused. “How is Viane?”

  “Well.” She frowned. “But it’s just as well you’ve returned. Kalim has proved much too obliging with the pigeons.”

  “I suppose that remark has deep significance, but I don’t think I’ll take the trouble to fathom it.” He opened the flap of the tent. “Kalim is riding in the carobel?”