“Zara,” he said, turning her to face him. “This isn’t the way I wanted it, but I will do anything to protect you. I cannot leave you here. The danger is too great.”
“You can’t—”
She never completed her sentence. With a cry of remorse, Jamal brought his fist forward and delivered a fast, solid clip to her jaw. The blow wasn’t hard enough to cause permanent damage; just a sharp tap that would keep her quiet for an hour or two. He caught her in his arms before she hit the ground.
“Forgive me, sweet vixen,” he whispered as he released the flap and peered into the darkness.
Nothing had changed. Less than an hour had passed since he’d entered Zara’s tent, though it seemed an eternity. The black, moonless night was his ally now. The sentry was still dozing against a tree. There were no campfires to give him away as he crept from the tent with Zara in his arms. He returned the way he had come, slipping into the thick cover of trees where Haroun waited.
“Praise Allah, you’re back,” Haroun said with a sigh of relief. “Another minute and I would have come charging in after you.”
“Praise Allah that you didn’t.”
“I assume that’s Lady Zara in your arms. What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s unconscious. I had to use force.”
Haroun frowned. It was unlike Jamal to hurt a woman. “If you have a plan, perhaps it’s time you shared it with me.”
“That’s precisely what I intend, my friend.” He shifted Zara in his arms. “I’m placing Zara in your care. You’re to take her to Paradise and await me there. Mount up and I’ll hand her up to you. You can ride double to the nearest village. I have coin on me, enough to purchase a mount for Zara and see you safely to Paradise.”
The widening of Haroun’s eyes betrayed his shock. “What are you going to do?”
“You don’t want to know.” He placed a kiss on Zara’s lips and handed her up to his trusted lieutenant. “Take care, my friend. You hold my life in your arms.” Then he reached beneath his robes for the sack of gold coins he’d stuck in his pocket and handed it to Haroun.
“You ask a great deal of me, Jamal. Lady Zara isn’t going to be happy about this when she awakens. She’s a warrior woman, as fierce as any man I’ve ever faced.”
“Do what you must to keep her from returning to her father.”
“How will you explain my absence to Captain Hasdai?”
“I’ll think of something. You must be ever vigilant, my friend. Zara is crafty. Guard her with your life. Tell Nafisa and Hammet to keep her confined to the harem. I’ll make things right with Zara when I return.”
“Good luck,” Haroun said with amusement. “I won’t question your sanity, Jamal, though I know you must be mad to betray the sultan. Ishmail isn’t a man to accept failure. He wants Youssef and Zara.”
“I can handle Ishmail, Haroun. Go now. Go quickly. Allah be with you.”
“Allah be with you, my friend,” Haroun returned as he kneed his horse forward.
Jamal watched him ride into the dark night, and then he turned back toward Youssef’s camp. He knew things would never be right between him and Zara if he allowed her father and the Blue Men to be slaughtered by the sultan’s army. He was trying to decide how best to approach Youssef when the sentry suddenly awakened, saw him, and cried out a warning. Jamal made no effort to escape as men poured out of the tents and surrounded him. A few minutes later Youssef pushed his way through to Jamal.
“By Allah’s beard, how did you get here? Are you alone?”
“I must speak with you privately, Youssef,” Jamal said earnestly.
Youssef felt a frisson of fear and glanced at Zara’s tent. Was she still sleeping? “Very well, follow me. It must be urgent for you to walk into my camp without an army at your back. You were an instant away from having your head separated from your body.”
Jamal said nothing as he followed Youssef into his tent. The cadi struck a light to an oil lamp and turned to face Jamal. “Explain yourself.”
“I came to warn you. The sultan’s army is camped nearby. They know you’re here and plan to attack at dawn. Without my warning you’d all be slaughtered in your beds.”
Youssef’s eyes narrowed. “Why should I believe you? You are Ishmail’s man.”
“I am my own man. I do this for Zara’s sake. I plan to make Zara my wife, and I do not want your death to mar our future happiness.”
“Your wife!” Youssef sputtered. “You seem sure of yourself, Sheik. Perhaps we should get Zara in here and ask her how she feels about becoming your wife. My daughter has a mind of her own and cannot be coerced into marriage.”
“Heed me well, Youssef, you have little time left in which to flee the sultan’s soldiers. I urge you to break camp now. You have women and children to protect. Ishmail wants your head. You will be pursued relentlessly, until you are caught. You may be resigned to your fate, but I won’t let that happen to Zara. I’m taking her with me.”
“Zara will never leave of her own free will,” Youssef declared. He recognized the wisdom of Jamal’s words, but knew it would take more than words to convince Zara.
Jamal took a deep breath and said, “Zara is no longer here. She departed with my lieutenant over an hour ago. I will join her at Paradise as soon as I am able.”
Enraged, Youssef reached for his scimitar, but then let his hand fall to his side. “Did Zara leave of her own accord?”
Jamal shook his head. “I wish it were so but it is not. Zara refused to leave so I took matters into my own hands. Zara means everything to me, though she believes otherwise. Until I can convince her of my love, she is in a safe place.”
Youssef’s expression softened. “I could kill you, Jamal, but it wouldn’t bring my daughter back. Regrettably, you speak the truth. I am a hunted man. One day I’ll be caught, and I do not wish for Zara to share my fate. Do you truly love her?”
Jamal smiled. “The woman vexes me to distraction. She adds zest to my life yet drives me crazy with her fierce pride. She is contrary, disobedient, fierce and obstinate. I have never in my life loved a woman until Zara. I will protect her with my life.”
Youssef’s lips twitched. That was quite a speech for a man who could have any woman in the kingdom and beyond. “You appear to know my daughter well. If you recall, I once pleaded with you to marry Zara instead of making her your concubine.”
“At the time I could not see past my lust. But we waste time talking. I must return before I am missed. The penalty for treason is death. Where will you go?”
Youssef rubbed his bearded chin as he considered the possibilities.
“I have a suggestion,” Jamal said. “How well do you know the Western Sahara?”
Youssef smiled. “Well enough not to die of thirst or hunger. We are nomads, Sheik. We go where the winds take us.”
“My advice is to flee into the Sahara. When Captain Hasdai comes with his men, he’ll find tracks leading into the desert. I doubt they’ll follow where death awaits them. Only one familiar with the Sahara would venture into it. After a time you can return to your walled village in the Rif mountains and tend your sheep. If you wish to live in peace, I’d advise you to stop your raids upon the sultan’s caravans.”
“I know your advice is well meant, Sheik, but I am a patriot and must do as my heart directs. The only promise I can make is that we will remain in our walled city for the duration of the winter. Farewell, Jamal, take good care of my daughter. She is well loved by me.”
They clasped arms and Jamal left quickly. He had accomplished what he’d set out to do but he was filled with a bone-deep foreboding. He reached Hasdai’s camp just as the soldiers sleeping upon the ground began stirring. When he tried to slip inside his tent, however, two soldiers emerged from the waning darkness and challenged him with drawn scimitars.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Jamal blustered. “Where is Captain Hasdai?”
“I am here,” Hasdai said, stepping from behind the men. “Where have y
ou been?”
“To relieve myself,” Jamal said, thinking fast.
“You have been gone all night, my lord.”
“Are you questioning my loyalty, Hasdai?”
“The sentry saw you and your lieutenant leave, but thought nothing of it until you failed to return in a reasonable time. I was about to order a patrol out to find you when you returned. Where have you been, and where is Haroun?”
“I was restless. I decided to ride out and look over the enemy camp. Haroun insisted upon accompanying me.”
“Where is Haroun now?”
“I sent him on an important errand. My ship’s captain is expecting me in Tangier to take the Plunderer out on another voyage. I didn’t have time to send word to him when I was so hastily summoned to Meknes. Haroun is to inform Captain Brahim of my delay.” It was a lame excuse but Jamal could think of no other.
“I will give you the benefit of the doubt, my lord, but you will be under close surveillance during the attack. Ready your men. We ride out immediately. If Allah is with us, we will find the Berber rebels still abed.”
Jamal’s men-at-arms rallied around his tent awaiting orders. When Hasdai was out of earshot, Jamal told them that he had sent Haroun to Paradise on an important mission and that they were to slip away and follow without informing Captain Hasdai of their departure. He also told them to inform Haroun that he was to take the Princess Zara to his ship in Tangier and send her without delay to his mother in England. If the men were curious, they made no mention of it, for they were unquestioningly faithful to Jamal. As Jamal and the soldiers rode out to subdue the enemy, Jamal looked back and saw his men-at-arms drifting away from the main group and riding in the opposite direction.
The enemy was gone. The hasty departure of the Blue Men was evidenced by the numerous personal effects left behind. They were traveling light, and their tracks led directly into the desert beyond the forested slopes and grassy plains.
Captain Hasdai spit out an oath and sent a blistering look at Jamal. “The enemy was warned in advance of our attack. Youssef knows we dare not follow him too deeply into the desert, for we are not desert fighters. The Blue Men are familiar with all the water holes and oases, but we know them not.”
He pinned Jamal with his dark, implacable gaze. “You are under arrest for treason, Sheik Jamal.”
“Are you mad?” Jamal sputtered.
“Seize him!” Hasdai ordered. Jamal was instantly surrounded.
Suddenly Hasdai noticed that Jamal’s men-at-arms were missing. “Where are your men?” Comprehension dawned. “You were wise to send them away, for they would share your fate. You betrayed us. You warned Youssef of our impending attack,” Hasdai accused. “You are under arrest. When we return to Meknes, the sultan will decide your fate. It grieves me to do this, my lord, but you’ve given me no choice.”
Resigned for the moment to his fate, Jamal asked, “Are we to return to Meknes immediately?”
Hasdai shook his head. “The sultan would be most displeased if I didn’t follow the fleeing Berbers. You will be returned to camp and remain under guard until my return. If Allah is with us, we can catch Youssef before he goes too deeply into the desert.”
“Your horses are no match for the Berbers’ superior racing camels, born and bred in these harsh desert climes.”
“Enough!” Hasdai ordered. He was well aware of his chances of finding Youssef, but his loyalty to the sultan was unshakable. He issued crisp orders to his second in command, and soon Jamal was securely bound with leather strips, hoisted upon his horse and escorted to the campsite by a half-dozen burly Negro soldiers, who were to remain behind to guard him.
Zara regained her senses slowly, aware of the thick arms holding her securely to the saddle and the fast clip of the horse’s gait over the rocky plain. The hard chest supporting her was not Jamal’s—she knew that intuitively. The hand binding her was large and meaty, with thick fingers and blunt nails. Nothing like Jamal’s strong, aristocratic hands, which could be as gentle or as rough as the situation demanded.
“You are awake, lady. Good,” Haroun said when he felt Zara stir against him.
Zara turned her head to look at Haroun, and pain exploded in her jaw. She felt betrayed. “He hit me! Jamal struck me. Why, Haroun?”
“Jamal wanted to protect you. Since you wouldn’t leave of your own accord, he took matters into his own hands.”
“Where is he? Where are you taking me?”
“Jamal is still with the soldiers. I’m taking you to Paradise, where you will be safe.”
“My father is in danger! Jamal is going to attack my people.” She turned in the saddle, pounding Haroun’s chest with her fists. “We must go back. I have to warn them.”
“I gave my word to see you safely to Paradise. Rest easy, lady, Jamal will see that no harm comes to your father.”
Zara went still. “He told you this?”
“No, he didn’t have to. I have known Jamal most of his life. I know how his mind works. He cares for you, lady, and would not want Youssef’s death to stand between you. He returned to your camp after placing you in my care. My guess is that he went to warn your father.”
“Can you be absolutely certain that is what Jamal did?”
“One can never be certain of anything save death, lady.”
“Then we must go back.”
“It is too late. We are nearing the village of Tinerhir. Jamal instructed me to purchase a horse for you. We can also buy food in the souk for the journey over the High Atlas.”
Zara said nothing but her mind worked furiously. Haroun was but one man and she was a clever woman. She wasn’t going anywhere until she knew the fate of her people. Besides, what Jamal had done to her was unforgivable. He didn’t seem the kind of man to strike a woman, yet he had done precisely that.
By the time they entered Tinerhir through the high, arched gate, Haroun had been lulled into complacency. Zara seemed subdued, and Haroun assumed he had convinced her that going to Paradise was in her best interests.
* * *
Jamal was released from his bonds to eat and relieve himself, and then he was promptly rebound. The six men Hasdai had left behind to guard him were aware of their responsibility and took no chances. If they let Sheik Jamal escape, the sultan would have their heads, but only after long and painful torture.
It seemed like forever, but in truth only seven days passed before a haggard Hasdai and his exhausted men returned to the campsite. They had followed Youssef as far as they dared. When they’d run out of water and food, they were forced to return. They had lost several horses due to dehydration, and half his men were suffering from heat stroke.
Hasdai rarely failed his sultan and was furious with Jamal. “I never thought you a traitor, my lord. Unlike you, I will never allow a woman to lead me around by my balls. Princess Zara must truly be amazing in bed for you to betray our master. Make no mistake, my lord, you will not escape punishment. Moulay Ishmail will know the full measure of your betrayal, and you will suffer for it.”
“I doubt it not, Hasdai,” Jamal said grimly.
Zara found the ideal opportunity to escape Haroun and seized it. Haroun was sleeping. He was rolled up in his blanket on the ground, his head resting on his saddle. He had bound Zara’s wrist to his with a length of leather cord and had fallen into a deep sleep. If she so much as moved he would feel the tug and awaken. The ritual was always the same. Each night Haroun bound Zara to him with the cord. Though Zara appeared docile, he’d learned that most women were devious creatures and he was taking no chances.
Zara had doubled her fist when Haroun fastened the thong around it that night. Once the thong was in place, she relaxed her fist and was gratified to find the thong was now loose enough to manipulate around her slim wrist. While Haroun slept she worked on the knot, until she could slip her hand through.
She arose cautiously and crept to where her horse was tethered. Haroun had purchased a blooded Arabian mare for her in Tinerhir, and Za
ra was well pleased with the beautiful animal. Not bothering with the saddle, Zara led the mare through the darkness, away from the snoring Haroun. When she was several yards away, she leaped upon the mare’s bare back and sped off into the night.
Haroun awakened at dawn, saw that Zara had slipped her bonds and flew into a rage. He recalled his promise to Jamal and knew he had to go after her. He knew where Zara planned to go and had only to follow.
Jamal’s hands were tied, forcing him to control his stallion with his knees, no mean feat when traversing mountainous terrain. But Hasdai was no fool. Jamal was not left unbound for more than a few minutes at a time. They had left the campsite and were traveling on a heavily forested pass through the High Atlas now. It was cold, and patches of snow appeared in the crevices high above them. Escape seemed unlikely, but Jamal remained alert nevertheless. It was a long way to Meknes.
Zara crouched behind a tree on a slope high above the retreating army. She had heard the pounding hooves and seen the trail of dust and thought it prudent to seek concealment. The route was routinely used by caravans, but she thought the riders were moving much too fast for a caravan. Her caution paid off when she saw the sultan’s soldiers retreating over the mountains. Then she saw Jamal and froze. His hands were bound behind him and he was surrounded by soldiers. Jamal was a prisoner! Her mouth opened in silent protest.
Her sharp mind sorted through the facts and quickly found the answer. Haroun hadn’t lied when he’d said Jamal had warned Youssef about the impending attack. Jamal’s absence from camp must have been noted, and now he was in serious trouble. Jamal had committed treason, an act that might very well mean his death.
Zara was so engrossed in the passing army, she failed to hear the almost silent footsteps behind her. She started violently as a hand clamped solidly over her mouth.
“’Tis the sultan’s army. Do not cry out.”
Haroun! How had he caught up with her so quickly? Zara nodded her head in vigorous agreement, and Haroun’s hand fell away. “Do you see what has happened, Haroun? Jamal is Hasdai’s prisoner. What does it mean?”
Sheik Page 21
