Sara nodded. That was good to know. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Danladi inspected a few scratches on his arms. “No.” His gaze roamed from Sara to Zeynel, who fed brush to the smoking fire. “You are strangers. How do you know my name?”
“We met your father.”
“He is...looking for me?”
“Yes.”
“I...thank you.” Danladi stumbled. The pounding of horse hooves sounded in the distance.
“You’re welcome, Danladi.”
Even before the horse stopped, Tobar jumped from its back and ran toward Danladi. He paused only briefly when his gaze settled on the dead cat. He knelt before his son. “By the gods I don’t know whether to hug you or punish you.” He ran a hand gently over the boy’s head then placed his forehead on the boy’s. His companions stood a distance away, leading the horses to the water.
“You tended him?” Tobar asked as he stood and straightened his shoulders.
“Yes,” Sara replied. The transformation from loving father to stern leader was remarkable.
“You killed the cat?” His gaze traveled from Zeynel to Sara.
“Yes,” Sara replied again.
Tobar bowed his head. “I owe you my son’s life. It is a debt that will not go unpaid. Do you still wish to travel to the eastern mountains?”
“Yes. We do.”
The Akier nodded. “It isn’t wise to traverse the Faisach alone. It’s a wild, unfriendly place.” Tobar swept his arm from side to side then turned his gaze on her. “It’s our custom to offer shelter for the night.” Tobar motioned with his arm. One of the men led the extra horse.
“Danladi can ride with me. You may take his mare.” As he spoke, he scooped the boy up in his arms.
He really hadn’t given them much choice, had he? Accept or... She stared at Zeynel. Her mentor merely smiled and raised a single eyebrow. She would like to check Danladi’s wounds for infection in the morning anyway.
One of the men led a very large horse toward Sara. A multicolored dyed blanket with a symbol, concentric circles split into fourths, covered the animal’s back. Sara fingered the material: horsehair. No saddle. Her grandfather had insisted they ride their larger goats from time to time. This couldn’t be much different. Could it?
“You are slight, she can carry you both.” No emotion touched the Akier’s voice.
A gentle hum filled the air and, before the men’s widening eyes, the mare knelt beside Zeynel. He caressed her flank then swung onto the horse’s back. Zeynel glanced at Sara, pointing to her gear. She shrugged on her pack before settling behind Zeynel. The mare shifted her legs and then stood still.
“Tashi likes you. This is a good omen.” Tobar’s grin lit his face. “Come, it is not often we have visitors.”
* * *
Warm air teased tendrils of her hair out of its braid and dried the sweat on her skin. She leaned into Zeynel. Why am I so tired? She could lie down and sleep the day and next night away.
Horses traveled a lot faster than goats. She resisted the urge to cling to the rough material of his coat. Wiry hair peeked from under Zeynel’s green hat, forming a ruffled edge of gray. He turned his head toward her. “Just squeeze with your knees.”
Sara shook her head. What did he think she was doing? She glanced toward the robed men. She wouldn’t lose face by falling from this horse. She squeezed tighter.
“Ilydearta has no power of its own. It uses yours.” Zeynel’s voice could just be heard over the pounding of horse hooves.”
“My power?”
He waved a hand. “Your energy.”
That would explain why I’m so tired. “That might have been good to know.”
“Would it have changed your actions?”
Sara let out a deep breath. He was right.
“You chose the boy’s safety over yours. This is good.”
He didn’t say he was proud, but she could hear it in his words. A smile crept over her face.
After a while, she relaxed into horse’s gentle rhythm and began to enjoy the breeze and scenery. The horses’ hooves beat against the hard-packed earth. This is how one should travel through the desert. Tobar sat tall on his steed, his robes rippling from the rhythm of the horse, dark blue against a milky ivory. Danladi tucked against his frame. As she watched, Tobar leaned toward one of his men and then laughed. White teeth flashed against dark smooth skin.
He returned her regard, his eyes still sparkling with merriment. One eyebrow arched in a silent question. Warmth traveled up her neck to her cheeks. Attractive and arrogant. Sara leaned close to Zeynel, breathing in a mixture of burned wood and thyme and the calm those scents afforded.
Tobar urged his mount closer to Sara and Zeynel. “My companion said Tei is mysterious. We journeyed into the Faisach to find a lone boy and instead, the god of light has given us honored visitors. An unusual harvest.”
“It is unasked-for gifts that have the most meaning,” Sara replied.
A smile softened Tobar’s lips. “A woman of wisdom.” He inclined his head. “But then my father always said that I had skill at finding treasure in the Faisach.”
Their gazes locked. Butterflies grew then danced in her belly. She broke the connection to stare at the hazy horizon, anything except his eyes. She wasn’t used to dealing with men and this one made her decidedly uncomfortable. She leaned closer to Zeynel. “You know these people?”
He tilted his head. “I’ve heard of them.”
By now she recognized the tone; that was all she was getting out of him.
* * *
An uneven landscape, like a wrinkled cloth, melted in a horizon of blinding glare. Black squat shapes formed in the distance, distorted through a mist of simmering heat but too regularly spaced to be a natural formation. The horses picked up speed of their own accord.
“What are those?” she asked Zeynel.
Despite the pounding hooves, Tobar must have heard her question. “That, my honored guest, is home.”
Chapter Thirteen
In a shallow depression and backed by a craggy outcropping of red rock that stretched into the blue sky, tents blended into a seamless watercolor of sepia, fawn and ocher, as though they belonged to the land. Darker figures moved along the outside perimeter of the circled tents. The sky opened above in an uninterrupted expanse of blue.
The horses slowed to a walk as they approached then zigzagged their way through rings of outer tents toward a clearing in the center. Sara glanced back the way they’d come to admire the shrewd arrangement of the camp. No large group of invaders could rush through without being hindered by the rows of tents and, she guessed, many defenders. Only the outer tents were vulnerable and she’d bet they were stores or something similar. Women paused to look at them with dark-rimmed eyes, the shadows of tentative smiles blurred under wispy veils. Children, their faces alight, followed at a distance, whispering to one another in excited voices.
When they reached a waist-high stone structure in the center clearing, flanked by two larger tents, Tobar dismounted with a flourish, his robes settling around sandaled feet. “Welcome to my winter camp.” He clapped his hands and turned toward Zeynel. Sara slid off Tashi, thankful she landed on her feet. She had a feeling her muscles would be sore in the morning. Zeynel leaned down and spoke quietly to the mare then followed suit. Young men came forward to lead the horses toward answering neighs somewhere near. “I will provide a place for you to rest after the long ride.” His glance flickered to Sara then back to Zeynel. “Do you want your own tent?”
Zeynel shook with a rueful laugh. “You honor me, Akier of the Heleini. She’s not my woman, but my master.”
Sara’s gaze flew to Zeynel. Master? What in the name of the Mother was he talking about?
Tobar beamed at Zeynel before gestur
ing toward his men. “Then they will escort you to the men’s quarters. Chavi,” Tobar called, his voice gentle. A veiled woman stepped forward and bowed before him.
“Mama!” Danladi called. Tears formed in the young boy’s eyes.
The woman reached out and touched the boy’s face gently. She was clothed in fawn-colored trousers tied at the ankle and just below the knee. A deep blue embroidered tunic fell to her hips, its sleeves tied at elbows and wrists.
“I will take him to his d’jalla,” Tobar said. “This is Sara. She is a healer and is to be our guest. This is her companion, Zeynel.” Tobar turned toward Sara. “Chavi will take care of your needs.”
Chavi bowed again, this time in her direction. “If you will follow me.” Her voice reminded Sara of early-morning dew, transient, yet beautiful. Zeynel walked away with the men after a fleeting smile in her direction.
Sara followed Chavi into a nearby tent. A dozen lined eyes turned in her direction as she entered the dim enclosure. Women sat on brightly colored cushions, sewing or weaving baskets and blankets. Light infused the pale tent and the cloth seemed to glow. Low tables stood around the perimeter of the room, holding various baskets and clay bowls.
All hands froze. They were all dressed in loose trousers and tunics similar to what Chavi wore, although the hues were more subdued. Sara supposed the light material was practical in the desert heat.
“Tobar has a guest.” Chavi’s voice held authority. “Her name is Sara.”
Dark heads nodded greeting, hands already intent on their labor.
“If you’d rather be with your son—” Sara began.
Chavi shook her head. “He is with his father now. I will see him soon.”
Sara followed her to a grouping of large colorful pillows across the tent from the other women.
“Do you have need to refresh yourself?” she asked, unwrapping the section of veil that hid her face from view. Her dusky skin was luminous under the filtered light. She was beautiful.
Sara examined her dusty clothes and hands. “Is there water?”
Chavi blinked in confusion and Sara realized her mistake. Water was scarce in the desert; she doubted they used it to wash.
“Something to remove the dust,” Sara amended.
Chavi nodded, her veil swaying gently around her face, and clapped her hands.
A woman brought a platter of fruit and cheeses, bowing and laying it on a low table. Chavi gestured to the food then glanced toward the back of the tent. “Please sit. Rest.” A note of tension entered the woman’s voice.
“Danladi will be fine,” Sara said.
Chavi reached for the blue beads she wore around her neck, twisting them in her fingers. “I know. I am sorry. He is our only son and the eldest of Tobar’s children. He ran off after breaking his fast. We thought... He knows better. He’s a good boy, but so curious.”
“Aren’t most boys?” Sara asked.
“Not like Danladi.” A small smile touched Chavi’s face. “He is his father’s son.”
Sara nodded.
“You found him?”
“Yes. I was...” How much should she tell this woman?
“He was wounded?”
“Yes, I tended him until Tobar came.”
“I can never thank you enough.”
One of the women brought Sara a small jar of oil. “This is to remove the dust from your hands and face. My name is Patia.” She turned to Chavi. “I will tend the healer. Tobar asks for you.”
Chavi hooked her veil, bowed to Sara and left the tent.
Patia wore a necklace similar to Chavi’s. Her pale brown, rimmed eyes grew dark. “She has mourned the boy all day, terrified he’d been taken. The Akier sent search parties out all over the Faisach. He has returned with you and his son. May you be a sign of Tei’s favor.” As she spoke, Patia applied the warm oil to Sara’s hands and face and then wiped the skin with a cloth.
Once Sara got used to it, Patia’s gentle ministrations relaxed her. Who would have thought oil would be refreshing? But she couldn’t deny she felt cleaner. Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since breaking their fast that morning.
Sara sat cross-legged on a cushion, eyeing the food. They’d lived for weeks on dried meat and whatever foraging Zeynel managed during the day. She lifted a piece of pale pink fruit and sniffed. Her mouth watered. She placed the fruit on her tongue then let it melt in her mouth. She’d never tasted anything so sweet. The cheese, encrusted in herbs and a spice she couldn’t identify, held the distinct tang that only comes from goat milk and was delicious.
Chavi returned, her many bracelets tinkling, as Sara chewed the last piece of fruit. “Have you finished?”
“I have. Thank you.”
“Danladi wishes to see you.” Taking Sara’s hand in hers, Chavi pushed back a heavy sand-colored cloth that separated one part of the tent from the rest. She waited for Sara to step in before letting it fall back in place. “Danladi is on his d’jalla...his bed.”
Danladi sat on blanket-covered wooden pallet, his wounded leg stretched out before him. He turned toward her as she approached.
“My father tells me I owe you a great debt. I am honor bound to serve you in some way in my lifetime,” Danladi said.
Sara suppressed a smile. She’d never heard a child speak with such solemnity, but then she hadn’t spoken with many children, and never an Akier’s son.
“It’s I who am honored to have the future Akier hold me in such esteem.”
Confusion darkened Danladi’s eyes. “Father said she was a stranger to our ways. She speaks like a Heleini.”
Chavi turned to Sara, curiosity in her eyes. “She’s from a land far away.”
“I’ve traveled a great distance to come here.”
“I only saw you and the man. Where are your tribe people?” Danladi asked. His dark eyes studied her.
Yes, he is his father’s son.
“I travel with only my friend.”
“Only one friend? You have no tribe?” Danladi’s eyes filled with horror. “Who keeps your tent?”
“He does.”
“How—”
“That’s enough, Danladi.” Chavi’s voice once again held authority. “The healer is our guest.”
Danladi bowed to Sara. “My apologies.”
“Your apology is accepted, Danladi.” Sara inclined her head. “But the questions don’t bother me.”
Chavi toyed with the edge of Danladi’s blanket, her face pensive. “I have to confess I share my son’s curiosity,” she began. “Your ways seem strange to us. You really do travel with only one other for company?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re not lonely?”
Was she lonely? She really hadn’t given herself time for that or any other emotion. “No. I’m not lonely.”
“Where are your other people? Your family? Have you always wandered?”
A pang of loss shot through Sara. “No. I had a home.” Images of the cottage by the sea filled her mind. The goats frolicking in their pen, the garden, her favorite waterfall and finally her grandfather in the kitchen, preparing a concoction of some kind. Tears pricked her eyes. “My grandfather raised me far from here, on a little island.”
“An island?” Danladi asked, then looked at his mother with wide eyes.
Chavi smiled at her son. “Land surrounded by water.”
Danladi’s eyes grew larger.
“Not fresh water. Salt. Like at the salt pans,” Chavi explained.
“Oh.” His shoulders slumped.
“Just your grandfather?” Chavi asked.
“Yes, my mother and father died when I was small. The island was the only home I knew until we decided to journey to the mainland.” Until I insisted. Her ever-present guil
t rose to the surface. “There was a storm during the crossing and my grandfather died.”
“I am sorry, Sara. That is much sorrow for one so young.” Chavi’s voice was soft.
It was on the tip of her tongue to reply that she wasn’t so young, but she realized how immature that would sound. Besides, she’d grown since her days on the island. She was young, but not as naive as she once had been. “Thank you.”
“What did you do on the island?” Danladi asked.
“Oh, lots of things. There were goats to play with, a garden to tend and many, many places to explore.”
“I’m not allowed to explore very often.”
Sara glanced at Chavi. “There were also many chores. My grandfather and I woke before the sun to practice Shi’ia and study every day.”
At Chavi’s grateful smile, Sara knew she’d read the mother right. Danladi had duties too.
“What’s Shi’ia?” Danladi asked. “How did you kill the cat?”
“That’s enough questions for today, young man. It’s time to rest.” Chavi pulled the blanket up as she gently pressed Danladi down on his d’jalla.
“Mother, one more, please?”
“All right.”
“May I go to the Fire?”
“You disobeyed us, Danladi. You traveled into the Faisach without permission and with no escort. Your father will not allow it.”
Danladi hung his head.
“It is still several nights before the Fire takes place. Be on your best behavior until then and perhaps your father will change his mind. Now you must rest.”
Disappointment creased the boy’s dark features, but he didn’t protest.
Sara followed Chavi out of the small room. A few of the women offered tentative smiles before returning to their tasks.
“This is yours and Tobar’s tent?” she asked. She hadn’t seen Tobar since they’d arrived with Danladi.
Smiling, Chavi offered a platter of fruit to Sara. “This is my tent. I share it with Danladi and any other children the gods will bless me with. Tobar, as Akier, has his own.”
“Do all men have their own tents?”
Journey of Awakening Page 15
