The Lion's Embrace

by Marie Laval

  ‘Pull your scarf over your face, keep your eyes down and let me do the talking,’ he instructed sharply, adjusting his indigo blue headscarf to make sure his face was covered and the turban fell down on his forehead and shaded his blue eyes. ‘They’re looking for someone. I’m not taking any chances.’

  Her heart thumped hard and her throat was so constricted with fear she couldn’t breathe as she joined the line of people queuing to the gate. Hoping the soldiers wouldn’t look at her too closely, she remained a step behind Lucas and fussed with the horse’s saddlebags and bridle to keep her nervous hands busy.

  ‘Qu’est-ce que tu viens faire à In Salah?’ a soldier asked Lucas when it was their turn.

  Lucas shook his head and answered in Arabic, gesturing towards the camel and the horse.

  ‘Qu’est-ce que tu transportes? C’est pour le marché ?’ the man asked again, laying his hand on the bags with the ransom gold Lucas had strapped onto the camel’s back.

  ‘Marché, oui… moi achète femme pour mon frère,’ Lucas answered in a fake broken French and pointing at her.

  ‘Une femme, pour lui? Il est trop petit!’ The soldier peered at her with a leering smile.

  ‘Petit mais vigoureux, et il veut une femme.’

  The soldier burst out laughing and slapped Harriet on the back before waving them in.

  ‘Bonne chance. Allez, entrez!’

  In silence, they followed the flow of people walking up the winding alleyways to the central market square and medina, which was a maze of narrow passageways with a small channel running in the middle for waste water. Lucas knocked on a wooden door. Three knocks, followed by two then three more—a code. Where were they going?

  The door creaked open onto a large, cobblestone courtyard with dirty straw and piles of horse manure. On one side was a stable block. The three remaining sides featured archways and doors hidden behind bead curtains. A man ushered them in and saluted Lucas in rapid Arabic. He helped unbuckle the bags before leading the camel and the horse away to be stabled. Lucas took Harriet’s hand. He pulled a bead curtain aside and they walked into the house. It was so dark inside after the bright sunlight that she blinked a few times before being able to see the men sitting around in small groups.

  Someone called from a corner of the room. A tall man stood and walked up to them. She let out a cry of alarm and gripped Lucas’s arm but he only laughed.

  ‘It’s Hakim.’ He pulled his scarf off and grinned at his friend.

  The two men clasped hands and started talking in Tamasheq.

  They spent the rest of the afternoon in the tavern’s dark, grimy room. They ordered food and tea and discussed the next steps of their journey to Abalessa. Or at least, that’s what they appeared to be doing as they pored over Lucas’ map, because she couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying. Her eyelids became heavy. She yawned, rested her head against Lucas’ shoulder and fell asleep.

  ‘Harriet, wake up, darling. We have to go.’ Lucas stroked her cheek, her shoulder, her arm.

  She opened her eyes and smiled.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  The tavern was almost empty. Hakim had gone. It was dark outside.

  ‘We’re leaving In Salah, Hakim and Musa are waiting in the oasis for us. They have the bags, the horses and the camels already.’

  ‘What about the French soldiers? Won’t they expect me to walk out with a woman tucked under my arm? You told them I was buying a wife, didn’t you?’

  He laughed, pecked a kiss on the tip of her nose.

  ‘We can always say that after sampling a few, you didn’t find a woman you liked enough to take home. Just walk like a man whose senses are satiated after a few hours of…ahem…’ There was a twinkle in his eyes. ‘…indulgence,’ he finished.

  She sighed. ‘Easy for you to say. I wouldn’t know what that feels like, I’m not a man.’

  He put his hands on her shoulders and darted his eyes into hers.

  ‘I will tell you what it’s like. It’s like looking at the sun rising over Mont Illiman in the Hoggar—the mountain they call ‘the roof of the world’. It gives you the feeling you can do anything: touch the clouds, capture a star, or fly like a hawk from the highest peaks.’

  He paused and tapped her cheek with his finger. ‘Anyway, you won’t have to pretend because we’re going on the roofs.’

  He got up. His voice was businesslike again and his face blank.

  ‘There have been developments I need to tell you about. In the meantime, follow me. I hope you’re not afraid of heights.’

  ‘We shall see.’

  He jumped onto the roof of the tavern, held out his hand to pull her up and they ran above the streets, like shadows under the cover of darkness.

  From their vantage point, they saw French soldiers patrolling the streets. The gate was closed and heavily guarded. She glanced at Lucas in alarm but he only smiled.

  ‘Don’t worry. Everything’s being taken care of.’

  A series of explosions outside of the town walls tore the stillness of the night. Immediately the French soldiers shouted orders to open the gates and ran out into the sand dunes, leaving only a couple of men to stand guard.

  ‘Wait here,’ Lucas ordered.

  He let himself down from the roof. Silent as a cat, he walked to the guards and drew his knife out. She closed her eyes, her chest tight with fear, and heard the sickening sounds of bodies hitting the ground with a thud. When she opened her eyes again, both men lay motionless.

  ‘Quick,’ Lucas called. He caught her in his arms when she jumped and held her hand as they sneaked out of the town.

  They crouched in the sand dunes until the French soldiers went back inside and closed the gates, then made their way into the oasis. They found Hakim and Musa hiding among the palm trees, their horses already saddled and the camels loaded with supplies and equipment. Nobody talked as they started on the trail to the south. They walked for most of the night, first on rocky tracks, then on sand that slipped and shifted underfoot, stopping a few times to drink and eat some dates. Only when the stars faded away and the sky became pale to the east, did Lucas decide it was time for a rest. He led them to what looked like a white hut hidden amongst sand dunes and rocks, with a lonely, bushy acacia tree and a well next to it.

  ‘What is this?’ Harriet asked as they walked inside the tiny, one-bedroom house.

  ‘A kouba, the tomb of a holy man,’ he answered, checking the corners of the room for snakes and scorpions. He threw a couple of blankets on the ground. ‘Travellers use them to shelter, women come to pray and dream.’

  ‘Dream? What about?’

  ‘About what the future has in store for them, of course.’ He shrugged. ‘We’ll stop here until dusk and travel at night. You need to sleep, but first, have a drink. I just filled my gourd at the well.’

  She took a long sip of water, but the bitter liquid made her choke.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Lucas took the gourd from her and took a small taste. He spat the water out.

  ‘It’s been poisoned. With Adenia I think.’

  Stepping towards her, he grabbed her shoulders and stared deep into her eyes. ‘How much did you have?’

  ‘Not much, only a sip. I couldn’t swallow it,’ she answered. The bitter taste lingered in her mouth. ‘Who would do that, poison a well?’

  He let go of her and walked out. ‘People who don’t want us to make it. Give me a minute, I’ll warn the others.’

  His face was sombre when he came back. ‘Hakim is checking a couple other wells in the area to see if they too were poisoned.’

  He paused. ‘You asked who would poison a well. Mortemer would. He has done so before in his fight against the rebels. He never cared about harming villagers or nomads. He knows we are heading for Tamanrasset and he is a few days ahead of us.’ He hesitated. ‘Hakim told me there is a reward on my head, dead or alive. Apparently the rumour is I won’t get out of Abalessa alive.’

  She gasped. ‘
So he does know about you being on the rebels’ side.’

  ‘It looks like it. I have been a little arrogant in thinking he would never catch up with me.’ He looked at her and added softly, ‘There is something else, Harriet.

  ‘According to Hakim, Mortemer and his soldiers are travelling with a gang of men, a dozen or so. Their leaders are Englishmen, and both wear a ring unusual enough to have been noticed.’

  ‘A jade ring with the silver wolf?’ she asked her voice weak.

  He nodded, his eyes hardened.

  ‘Archie is with them. Hakim saw him.’

  She gripped his arm.

  ‘Archie! Did they say if he looked hurt or injured? I do hope they are treating him right.’

  He sneered. ‘You needn’t worry about him. He is one of them.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ She shook her head.

  He covered her hand with his and rubbed it gently.

  ‘I’m not sure I do either. I’ve had doubts about him for a while. It looks like he went with the raiders willingly. I wonder if he wasn’t the one who told them about our route, which would explain why they could find us. And’

  ‘Why would he want to steal my father’s ransom when he’s helping to rescue him?’ She broke free and put her hands to her ears. ‘I won’t listen to these lies. You were against Archie from the start.’

  His gaze narrowed in anger. ‘Very well. I see that keeping your illusions about the man is more important than discovering the truth. I’ll leave you alone.’

  He walked to the door and opened it.

  ‘Get some sleep. I will wake you when it’s time to leave.’ He slammed the wooden door behind him so hard that dried mud from the walls fell onto the ground.

  Harriet buried her face in her hands. She didn’t understand what he had just told her. Why would Archie pretend to be helping her father while arranging for his ransom to be stolen, therefore signing her father’s death warrant? Lucas had it all wrong.

  She wrapped her burnous around her and lay down. It wasn’t quite dawn yet and it was still cool in the kouba. She closed her eyes and rocked herself to sleep.

  The lion was watching over her. He was the one she had seen before. His piercing blue eyes followed her everywhere she went, from the arid plains to the rocky canyons, from the fragrant and cool oases to the inferno of sand dunes under a burning sky. Ahar. She said his name. Ahar. It was him. It had always been him. She raised a hand, but he turned away and left her alone.

  The door banging against the wall woke her with a start. Where was she? A man’s silhouette stood out against the darkening sky. Her mouth, her throat were parched. Her stomach ached and pain shot through her chest. She tried to move but her legs felt like lead.

  ‘The sun has set. Come and get something to eat before we leave,’ Lucas said.

  She sat up, shivery and brought a hand to her forehead.

  ‘Have I really slept all day?’

  ‘You have. You don’t look well.’ His voice softened. He walked into the hut and crouched in front of her. ‘You must have drunk more water than you thought.’

  She swallowed hard. His face was blurred and the room moved and spun in front of her. She brought her hand to her mouth. ‘Help me.’

  He scooped her into his arms and carried her outside where she was violently sick. He held her, stroked her back, murmured soothing words until it was over, then he carried her back inside and laid her gently on the blanket. She closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.

  She only had vague memories of the following night and day, of Lucas leaning over her, his eyes serious, of his hand stroking her hair and the taste of the sweet tea he patiently fed her at regular intervals.

  At last the time came when her vision wasn’t blurred any longer, when she didn’t feel like retching as soon as she moved and when her head stopped throbbing. Men were talking outside, an enticing smell of meat roasting on a fire drifted into the hut. She got up and pushed the door open.

  Lucas walked to her, cupped her chin to look into her face.

  ‘At last. I was thinking of sending for the marabout if you didn’t get any better soon.’

  She managed a faint smile, pointed to the fire over which a tin pot of water boiled. ‘Where did you get the water?’

  ‘Musa found a well which hadn’t been poisoned.’ He put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the fire. ‘Come and sit down.’

  He poured some tea out for her, cut some meat and a piece of bread.

  ‘Eat. We will be leaving at dusk.’ He rubbed his forehead, closed his eyes, and let out a sigh. ‘We’ll need to save water from now on. We don’t know when we’ll find another uncontaminated well.’ He paused. ‘If all goes well, we’ll be at Abalessa by the end of the week.’

  She put her hands on her heart. ‘Really? So I could be with my father in just a few days? It’s almost the end of our journey.’

  He stared into the fire in silence for a couple of minutes. ‘Yes, it’s almost the end,’ he repeated, wistfully.

  ‘You don’t sound very happy about it.’

  Then she remembered what he’d said and her smile died on her lips. How could she be so selfish? His life would be in danger the moment they stepped in Abalessa.

  ‘You should leave, Lucas, disappear. That’s your only chance. I am sure Hakim and Musa can take me safely to Abalessa.’

  ‘You really don’t think much of me, do you Harriet?’ he scowled. ‘I said I would take you to your father and I will.’

  ‘But Mortemer and his men will be waiting for you there, you said so yourself.’

  He stood up and kicked some sand into the fire.

  ‘It was only a matter of time before I confronted him and faced up to what I did five years ago.’

  ‘What happened to your father and all these innocent people wasn’t your fault.’ She jumped to her feet, gripped his arm.

  He looked down at her. ‘If I hadn’t told Mortemer about the cave, they would still be alive today. I might as well have lit those fires and pulled the trigger myself.’ His voice was devoid of emotion, his stare blank.

  ‘Getting yourself killed won’t change the fact that they’re dead,’ she said softly, as a terrible pain wrung her heart, making her breathless. ‘I love you so much. I want to be with you. I thought maybe once my father was free, we could…

  ‘You thought wrong. I never promised you anything,’ he interrupted coldly. ‘Apart from taking you to the south, that is.’ And he walked away.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  ‘We need to take shelter fast.’ Lucas pointed to a thick orange cloud advancing towards them like a wall, obscuring the light.

  ‘Sandstorm. Pull your veil around your face and dismount. Quick!’

  Within a few seconds, the sky turned a dark yellow and the sun was no more than a white ball giving out pale, diffuse light. Gusts of wind hurled clouds of sand that whipped and stung her body despite the layers of clothing. Sand got into her eyes, her nose, down her throat. For one terrifying moment, she even feared it would fill her lungs and she would choke on it. She dismounted and struggled to control her horse as it stomped and neighed in the storm.

  A stronger gust of wind swirled around them and the horse balked so suddenly she let go of the bridle and fell back. Thankfully, Musa managed to take hold of the reins. Bending against the wind, coughing and almost blind, they made their way into a dark, narrow canyon that seemed to be made of black or dark purple stone.

  Even if the canyon offered some protection, the air was thick with sand and the wind so strong she could hardly stand.

  Once the horses and camels were securely tied up to thick acacia branches, Lucas got a couple of blankets out of a bag, threw one to Hakim and Musa and kept the other.

  ‘Come here.’ He gestured for her to sit, her back against the rock face, and pulled the blanket over them like a makeshift tent, securing it in place by tucking it between his back and the rock.

  ‘There’s nothing to do but wai
t,’ he said as they both slipped under the relative protection of the blanket.

  She closed her eyes. Her body was weary but sleep eluded her. They had reached the Hoggar after a gruelling trek through the desert. There was something awe-inspiring about the majestic, rugged black peaks rising over the sand dunes. Like the Tuaregs, she could well believe that this was a land of gods and spirits.

  Lucas had been right to predict that many of the wells on their way would be poisoned. Sometimes, carcasses of gazelles or antelopes, fennec or jackals floating in the water alerted them. Other times, Lucas tasted the water himself before shaking his head, cold anger in his eyes, and they had to walk or ride further. He made sure she didn’t suffer from thirst and often passed his gourd to her without drinking.

  Right now, she was acutely aware of him sitting at her side even though he was taking great care not to touch her. He had been cool, distant, almost indifferent, since their argument in the kouba. Her eyes filled with tears she brushed off impatiently, but she couldn’t repress a sob.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  He turned to her. His hand slipped under her veil, touched her hair, her face. ‘You’re crying…’

  His finger followed the trail of tears on her skin. She shivered under his touch.

  ‘Don’t be afraid. The storm will probably blow over by nightfall.’

  His voice only just covered the tumult of the wind.

  He held out his gourd and unscrewed the top. ‘Here, have some water.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘No, you drink first. I’ve had more water than you or Hakim and Musa put together these past few days. It’s not fair.’

  ‘We’re used to going without, you aren’t,’ he said, curtly. ‘Drink.’

  Her throat was so parched and raw that even the warm, slightly rank water tasted delicious. She gave him the gourd back and put her hand on his forearm.

  ‘Thank you.’

  He shrugged. She was too close. He had managed to keep her at arms’ length these past few days. It had cost him, but it was necessary. He couldn’t afford being distracted, softened by her. There was no point, no future in them—in him.