Rashid stared at him, shocked at his words and with tears welling in his eyes. With a scowl on his face, Akiri rose and exited the tent. The stifled sobs coming from inside followed him as he walked away. He tried to tell himself that the boy had needed to hear the truth, but a part of him already regretted being so harsh. This was not some Acharian child trying to become a Dul’Buhar. In spite of this, he could not bring himself to return to the tent.
There were no Suldan roaming about, and lights to the south suggested that the ceremony Dar Gazal had spoken of was taking place a good distance away. He came across a smoldering fire a few tents along and dropped down onto the sand beside it. If the Suldan took exception to his presence outside…. then let them.
He gazed into the fading embers for a time, attempting to clear his mind. The dawn would herald the end to this whole affair. And it was about time. He needed to move on. Though to where, he still did not know.
“Outlander.” Dar Gazal came strolling up, a congenial look on his face.
“Is the ceremony over?” asked Akiri.
The Suldan took a seat beside him. “It is. The bodies have been returned to the sand, and their spirits are now with their ancestors. No more needs to be said.”
Akiri nodded approvingly, then leaned back on his elbows and took a long cleansing breath. The dry desert air felt good…in a way, pure. At times, he could well understand the Suldans’ love for their home. It was a land without forgiveness; yet also a land without judgment. Yes. The purity of the desert would most surely be worth defending.
“Shelia wants you to join her in her tent,” remarked Dar Gazal.
“What does she want?”
“For one, to tend your wounds. She is a skilled healer. From the look of things, your own efforts have not been too successful.”
Akiri shrugged. “Successful enough. If that is all she wants, you can tell her that I need no further healing.”
“I’m sure she has other reasons, though she is unlikely to tell me what they are. And you should know that her wisdom is renowned throughout the sands, and many Suldan seek her council. I would not let the opportunity pass if I were you.”
One of the lessons Akiri had learned early in his training was to make allies where you can. This could be such an opportunity. “Very well,” he said.
Dar Gazal led him to the outskirts of the camp. Along the way, they encountered a significant number of Suldan returning from the ceremony, and several bowed to Akiri as they passed. There was no hint of anger or resentment in their eyes, only calm acceptance and respect.
Shelia’s tent was much larger than the others, and adorned with symbols painted in red across the base. After gesturing for him to enter, Dar Gazal turned to leave. Akiri peeled open the flap and was immediately hit by the scent of honey and lavender. The interior was lit by several small lamps placed around the center post, while the floor had been covered with a variety of colorful rugs and pillows.
Shelia had changed into a pair of loose-fitting crimson pants and a shirt cut off at the midriff. Her hair was tied into a ponytail that fell to the center of her back. Though slender of frame, her muscles were toned and looked as if she were quite agile. Her skin glistened as she applied a clear liquid to her arms and neck.
“This keeps the sun from making your skin flake,” she told Akiri. “Would you like some?”
He shook his head and continued his appraisal of her. She was beautiful; there was no doubt about that. And her apparent strength reminded him of Rena – the bodyguard he had encountered some time ago, before he had been forced to flee his homeland. Her movements were fluid yet purposeful, a quality usually found in the most highly trained of soldiers. He found his passions stirring as he watched her finish applying the oil.
Shelia pointed to a pillow close to where she was standing. “Remove your shirt so I may see to your wounds.”
Akiri could hear in her voice that she expected to be obeyed. Not wanting to argue, he took his seat while she rummaged through a small chest. After retrieving a silk pouch, she knelt beside him and removed his dressings.
“I can see you have had to tend your own wounds before,” she remarked.
“Many times.”
“You have seen much battle?” She began applying a thick salve.
“Yes.” He could feel her breath on his neck and smell the scent of her flesh. His pulse quickened.
“Dar Gazal tells me you intend to leave once this is over. Might I ask why?”
“Once the Vizier is dead, there will be nothing to hold me here. Lord Rashid will no longer be in peril, and my promise to him will be fulfilled.”
“So you stay for the boy’s sake. Interesting, though not entirely unexpected. Men like you often have an affinity for children.”
“Men like me?”
“Men who see the world through the eyes of war. They often relate to the uncomplicated days of childhood, when things were simply right or wrong – when people were either friend or foe. But you…there is something very different about you.”
Akiri groaned inwardly. More talk of the gods was not a conversation he wanted to have. “I am an outlander,” he responded. “I’m sure I must seem quite different.”
Shelia laughed. “Anyone who lives outside of my beloved desert is an outlander to me. But no. It is more than that. Something is pulling at you, beckoning you to come. Threads within threads are tied to your destiny. Greatness, that’s what I see. There is greatness within you. And yet you desire simplicity. Where most men seek power, you seek purpose.”
“You see much for someone who has only just met me. But unless you can see a way for me to find what I seek, it means nothing.”
“And what if I did know a way?”
He looked at her incredulously. “That would make you far wiser than I would have guessed.”
She began stitching his wound. Akiri was impressed by her skill – painless, and with twice the speed and dexterity that he had seen from anyone before.
“You wish to leave Yagash and continue east, yes?”
Akiri nodded.
“What do you hope to find there? Peace? I think not. Wealth? For a man with your talents, wealth is a petty pursuit. No. Men from the west often come here in search of fortune and adventure. But you came looking for something more.”
Akiri’s curiosity was piqued. It was easy to see why people would seek this woman’s counsel. “What do you think I came here to find?” he asked.
She wrapped a bandage over the wound. “A life. One that you can create for yourself. One that is unfettered and unchallenged by the will of the gods.”
“And do you think I will find it?”
There was a long pause. “Yes. But when you do, I think you will turn your back on it.”
Shelia crawled over to where she had placed the oil. Akiri admired her sleek form and nimble movements. She was seductive without effort, though he couldn’t be certain if this was by design or natural. When she returned, she slid behind him and began applying the oil to his back and shoulders.
“Why would I reject the very thing I want most?” he asked. Her touch was firm and her fingers strong, yet they lost nothing of their feminine allure.
“Because all men of greatness are doomed to their fate. There is nowhere to hide…save one place. And even there, it is only a temporary reprieve.”
“Where is this place?” Only with great effort did he not turn to face her.
“Here, of course. The Great Game ignores the desert. You could stay among us, if you so wished.”
Shelia’s hands sought out each of his muscles with masterful ability. Akiri moaned involuntarily. If she were trying to seduce him, it was working. A night of pleasure would not be unwelcome. But this offer meant that it went far beyond mere pleasure.
“Why would you want me to stay?”
“You are strong, outlander. Stronger than any man I have known. And if the Great Game is to come here at last, we will need all the strength we can muster. T
he Vizier is only the beginning; that much is certain. More like him will come…and worse. But until they do, you could stay here and live the life of a free man.”
The offer was more tempting than he would have thought, but he knew it was not one he could accept. “I do not know where my place in this world is yet,” he said. “But one thing I am sure of: I will know when I find it.”
“I see.” She lifted her hands and stood.
He felt the absence of her touch keenly. “I mean no insult to you or your people.”
She took a seat on a pillow in front of him and proceeded to apply the oil to his chest. “I take no offense. I knew the chance of you accepting my offer was remote.” Her eyes drifted over his body. “I see your rai is as strong as the rest of you.”
“My rai?”
“In the west, I believe you call it a merkesh. Your center of power. I suspected as much, while watching you fight. And it makes my next request even more important.”
Her touch was sending waves of desire coursing through him. “What do you want?”
“For you to leave a part of yourself with us.”
Akiri stiffened. “What do you mean?”
Shelia’s laugh was musical. “Nothing you would ever miss. And nothing you have not likely given before. We are a pragmatic people. And we live in a land where our survival depends on strength. The weak among us rarely make it to adulthood. And you, outlander, have all the qualities we prize…as would your offspring.”
“You want me to give you a child?”
“Is that such an odd request?” Her hands climbed his chest and then ran slowly to his stomach. “We do not ask that you raise it. We Suldan would share that responsibility.”
Akiri did not know how to respond. He could certainly see the logic of what she was suggesting. And the possibility that he had fathered other children was strong.
“If I am not to your liking, there are many worthy women among us who have yet to claim a husband,” Shelia told him.
“No. You would be more than suitable. I was just taken off guard.”
He wanted her. There was not the slightest doubt about that. And the idea of breeding for this reason was not entirely unheard of. In fact, the Dul’Buhar were often coupled with the finest women for that very purpose. But something was holding him at bay. It wasn’t until Shelia leaned in and whispered into his ear that he realized what it was.
“Perhaps you need time to think on it.”
Her voice. It was the same tone he had heard from people who ridiculed his Acharian heritage – particularly women, who often scorned their misogynistic attitudes. And at this moment and in his mind, he was in the role reserved for women. Though he personally did not make distinctions when it concerned matters of skill or worth, there was still no denying that he was uncomfortable playing the part.
“I need no time,” he told her, after silently scolding himself for stupidity.
He reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist. But rather than yield, she placed her palms to his chest.
“Return to me when you have completed your task. I would have you with me for more than the span of a few hours. Once my passion is unleashed, I will not want you to leave until it is satisfied.”
Akiri wanted to object, but he could not. Even now, his iron will was barely capable of containing his desire; it was burning to the point of frenzy. She was right. The few hours remaining until dawn could not possibly be enough to quench this fire once it was set free to blaze.
He released his hold and rose to his feet. “Then I should leave now, before I forget what lies ahead.”
“May Mishna protect you,” she said as he reached the exit. “And may she send you back to me with haste.”
Akiri looked over his shoulder. “If I return, it will not be Mishna’s doing. It will be my desire for you.”
Pushing open the flap, he stepped outside. The touch of her hands on his skin and the scent of her perfume lingered, making each and every step back to his tent a challenge. Upon his arrival, he saw that Rashid had fallen asleep. Mahir was sitting near a lantern reading from a small leather book.
“Where is your shirt?” Mahir asked. “And what is that all over you?”
Only then did Akiri realize he had not put his shirt back on. “I left it at the healer’s tent,” he said.
This prompted a disapproving frown. “And healing required covering your body in oil?”
“How long has the boy been asleep?” he asked, ignoring the dig.
“Only a few minutes,” Mahir replied. “He was deeply hurt by your words, outlander. I hope you intend to apologize.”
“The boy needs to face reality. Allowing him to think me something I am not does nothing but harm.”
“But to tell him there are no heroes…he’s just a boy.”
Akiri shook his head. “No, he is not. The moment you decided he was to be the Rahaji, he left his childhood behind. As we speak, armies gather. Soldiers are saying farewell to their families, some never to return. Do you think they do this to serve a child?”
For a moment, Mahir was unable to meet Akiri’s stony gaze. “I am sworn to protect him,” he said. “His father trusted me to keep him safe.” After taking a deep breath, he forced himself to once again make eye contact. “Lord Rashid trusts you. As long as you are near, the horrors that have befallen him are forgotten.”
“Horrors are never forgotten,” Akiri told him. “And when I am gone, he will look to you for strength and comfort. It will be your task to make him understand his duty. In time, he will learn that it is not steel he needs, but loyalty and devotion. With you, he has both. You are the protector I can never be. The sooner he realizes that, the better it will be for hm.”
“I know you care for him, outlander. Do not try to deny it.”
Shelia’s words echoed in his mind: Men who view the world through the eyes of war. They often relate to the uncomplicated days of childhood when things were simply right or wrong – when people were either friend or foe.”
“I care enough to leave him when this is over.” he said brusquely, crossing to his pack and retrieving a shirt. “Now leave me be. I need to rest.”
Mahir’s eyes remained fixed on him until he turned down the lantern.
While lying on his blanket, he concentrated on his breathing. The thought of Shelia’s touch was difficult to ignore. But he could not let anything distract him. This was far from the first night he had spent focusing on a dangerous mission that lay ahead. When he had been a Dul’Buhar, almost every mission had been fraught with danger. The difference was, back then he’d had few distractions in his life. The survival of his men and the completion of his assignment were all he ever needed to consider.
The voice of Borlon cut through the clutter in his mind. Get your head on straight, boy. Or you’ll be sure to lose it.
At that moment, everything else was shoved aside. There was nothing but the task ahead, and soon the salve of a peaceful mind ushered him to dreamless sleep.
Chapter Seventeen
Akiri closed his eyes, shutting out the rush of the wind in his ears so that he could center his thoughts on Kyra. She was circling high above a flat expanse of ground that would very soon be drenched in blood. The army of the Rahaji was on the march and would arrive just after sunrise. Dabo’s army, meanwhile, was concentrated near a rocky patch of ground…waiting for death at the hands of a vastly superior force.
Three days. That’s how long Akiri reckoned they could hold at most. Dabo was clever, and to his credit he had listened carefully to Akiri’s advice regarding strategy. He was confident he would have time to complete his mission. Still, it would be a narrow window through which Akiri had to climb. He had seen small numbers overcome great odds several times before, but the terrain here was very different. There was nowhere that Dabo could lure the enemy where his army might hold an advantage, and no forests or mountains from which to strike and run. The flat open space made this a battle of attrition. Through well
calculated maneuvers, they would be able to stave off defeat for a time. But in the end, defeat was inevitable.
Akiri returned his attention to the moment. Though the path he and the hundred and fifty Suldan were taking was winding and uneven, their mounts easily navigated the ground. After having ridden on camels for so long, he had at first found it odd to be mounting a horse again. He had missed the raw power of a healthy steed beneath him, but he couldn’t help but appreciate the relentless strength of the desert animal.
Ahead they saw a line of torches and slowed to a trot. Piercing the darkness, Akiri saw that these were indeed the men they were to meet. Dar Gazal rode up beside him, a broad smile on his face.
“I never had the chance to ask what Shelia wanted to talk to you about.”
“That is not your affair.”
“A strong woman. She would make a fine wife…for whomever she chooses.”
“The women choose who is to be coupled?”
“Usually. Such matters are far too complex for a man’s mind. We allow our passion to bend our reason. If we had our way, we’d mate with whoever was willing.” His smile brightened. “If Shelia has chosen you, I am envious. A woman of substance and power is a fine combination. And she has both. You would be a fool to reject her.”
Akiri cast him a stern glance. “I think you should worry about the task ahead, rather than whom Shelia chooses for a mate.”
Dar Gazal laughed. “Forgive me. But as you know, I often talk too much.”
Akiri reined in his mount and slid from the saddle. The men who were awaiting them were to take the horses and keep them hidden from anyone who might alert the city. Once gathered, he and the Suldan hurried along the path for another mile before turning north. From there, they could see the city walls silhouetted by the glow radiating from the lights within. They had estimated that only three hundred palace guards and soldiers remained inside, though these still outnumbered their own force. Surprise should make overcoming the defenders relatively straightforward, especially as all the Suldan were now dressed as city dwellers rather than in their traditional attire. If all went to plan, they would have the city under control in a matter of hours.
Akiri: Sands Of Darkness Page 20
