Joy spread over Mara's face as the full impact of her condition hit her. "Oh, Tajarez, I am carrying your child, a life that was created by you and me, a part of both of us.
"I know," he said as he cupped her face in his hands. "It is a great responsibility, is it not?"
"Hold me, Tajarez, hold me. Tell me that you love me.
"I love you as I did not know it was possible to love. I awake each morning with you beside me, with a feeling of joy in my heart because you belong to me." His lips covered hers in a soft, gentle kiss. Then he held her to his heart. Neither spoke for a long time.
Tajarez reached for her hand and held it in his. "Look at the difference in us, Mara. What color would you say my skin is?"
She turned his hand over. She loved his hands. They were so strong, yet they could be very gentle. "I would call your skin a bronze color, but . . ."
He interrupted her. "And I would call your skin white, Mara. What will our child be like? Will he have golden hair as you do, or will his eyes be dark like mine? If it is a boy, he will one day be the king of the Seven Cities."
"You are bothered that he will look like me, Tajarez?" she asked.
"It is something I have given much thought to since I learned you carry my child. I would be less than honest if I told you it did not bother me. I will not be pleased if my child has the white skin."
"Is this what has been bothering you the last few days?" she asked, hoping he would deny it.
He did not look at her. "Yes, and I do not know how I will react if the child is born with white skin. How can I know?"
Mara felt crushed. It was as though he was rejecting her unborn baby, and by doing so, rejecting her. "It is something you should have considered before you asked me to be your wife, and certainly before you got me with child," she said.
"I have hurt you, Mara, and I did not intend to, but we have sworn that we would always be truthful with one another."
Mara rose to her feet. "I thank you for your truthfulness, Tajarez. I do not thank you for your deception."
"I have not deceived you, Mara. I would never do that."
"You let me think that you bore no grudge against the race I come from, Tajarez. No matter how much you try to delude yourself, I am white, and nothing you can ever do will change that."
He was on his feet. "Mara, I love you. I would not want you any way except the way you are." He reached for her, but she stepped away from him.
"Do not touch me, Tajarez. I should have been warned when we first met. I saw hate and disgust in your eyes then. I should have known you could not bury the past."
"Mara, do not do this."
"Love means accepting, Tajarez, and no matter how much you say it, you have not accepted me, not deep within your heart. I pity my poor baby. He is innocent in all of this."
"Mara, you will listen to me," he said angrily. It had not been his intention to hurt her, but his rejection of the baby stood between them now like a sharp-bladed knife. "We will work this out together, Mara; I will not have this anger come between us."
Tajarez knew that words once said could not be unsaid, and the doubts about his baby were deep inside him eating away at him. In the back of his mind he had always had a vision of his son standing beside him as he did beside his father, and his father's father before him. Tall and dark. His mind rejected a white-skinned son.
"Do not worry, Tajarez, if you do not like the child when it comes, you can always shut it away in the palace where no one will ever have to see it."
She walked away from him. He wanted to go after her and beg her to understand, but he knew there was nothing he could say that would make any difference at this point, because he did not understand himself. Had she been right? Did some small part of him still resent her because she was white? He could not think of a life without Mara. She was a part of him, and yet he could not entirely accept the fact that his son might have white skin, or the golden hair.
That night, for the first time, Mara did not come into his arms when they lay upon their robe. When he reached for her, she drew herself into a tight little ball and moved as far away from him as it was possible to get and still be in the same bed.
"I love you," he whispered, feeling her coldness like a pain in his heart. He did not press her. He did not know how to repair the damage that had been done today.
The next morning, Mara was silent as they rode home. She answered when Tajarez spoke to her, but she did not talk otherwise. When they reached the palace, she greeted his father with genuine affection, but did not tell him the news of the baby.
It was as though she carried a burden within her, and at the moment, it did not give her joy.
That night at dinner, Hamez noticed that Mara seemed unusually quiet, and his son was silent and moody. Some small lovers' quarrel, he thought. "Tell me, my daughter, are you glad to be home?" he asked, hoping to draw her out of her silence.
"It is wonderful to see you, my father, and I was ready to return."
"Ah, so you missed me, did you? Well, I will tell you that this place was like a tomb with you away. I missed the sound of your laughter and the sight of your beautiful face. It is not very exciting spending so much time with old Sagas. All he seems to want to talk about are the drawings on the wall."
Mara placed her hand over his. "My father, I truly love you, and I believe you also love me, but are you never sorry that your son did not marry from his own race? Are you sorry that he married me?"
Hamez noticed her agitation, and he sensed that his answer was important to her. He stared down the table at his son. "I would have my son marry where he loves, and he loves you, Mara."
"Yes, but I have white skin, my father. I am different from you."
"My eyes see not the color of your skin, Mara, rather they see the person within. Why do you ask?"
She rose quickly and kissed his cheek. "You are truly a wonderful man, and I am proud to know you. Now, if you will excuse me, I will go to bed. I am very weary."
Tajarez rose to his feet and watched her as she rushed from the room.
"What have you done to Mara, my son?" Hamez asked as he walked around the table and stood beside Tajarez.
Tajarez walked away from him and stood at the window staring out at the lights of the city below. "I am afraid I have hurt her without meaning to. I do not know if I can ever make it right with her again."
Hamez crossed the room and stood beside him. "What has occurred?"
"I told her of the doubts I have about the baby."
"Mara is with child?" Hamez asked, his face lighting up with joy.
"Yes, she is with child," Tajarez said dully.
"But this is great news. We must tell the people. We must celebrate." Hamez frowned. "You are not happy with the news. I know, you are afraid that a child will take up most of Mara's time and she will be unable to spend all her time with you. It is only natural that you should feel some jealousy, but I can assure you when you hold your son in your arms, you will forget all about jealousy. He will be of your own flesh. I remember the first time I saw you. I somehow felt immortal, as though I, myself, had been reborn. I knew that through you I would live on, and now I will see your child and live on through him as well."
Tajarez could not fail to recognize the happiness and pride in his father's voice. "Will you not feel the least disappointment if the child should be white, my father?"
"No, why should I? There was a time when I would have objected, but I no longer feel that way. He will be a part of Mara as well as yourself." Hamez's eyes narrowed. He gripped Tajarez by the arm and spun him to face him. "Have you said this to Mara?"
Tajarez nodded. "It was no more than the truth. I do not want my son to be white." His voice was rough, his eyes blazed as he tried to defend what he felt to his father as well as to himself.
"You could not possibly love Mara as you claim to, my son, if you resent any part of her showing up in your child. I cannot believe that you would think such a thing, much less sa
y it to her."
Tajarez moved away from his father. "I know I have hurt her, but I was being honest with her. I had to tell her how I felt."
"You are a fool, my son. I have never had cause to be disappointed in you until now. You must go to Mara and try to make it up to her. Do you know so little of women that you could reject a child she is giving you, no, worse, any child she will ever give you?"
"It is not as bad as it seems, my father. I do feel a certain pride and love for my unborn child."
Hamez's face grew stormy. "Mara must be handled with gentleness, Tajarez. You must do nothing to distress her and cause her to lose the baby. This child is very important to me and the people, whether it is to you or not."
"You choose to misunderstand me the same as Mara did. I wish I had kept my feelings to myself."
"In the future, do so," Hamez said angrily. He was no longer the father, but the king.
Tajarez had not often seen his father turn his anger against him, and it angered him also. "What I do with Mara is no concern of yours. She is my wife."
"When anything concerns the future of the Seven Cities, it is my concern. Make no mistake about that. Now, do you go to your wife, or do I?"
Tajarez walked across the room, then turned at the doorway. "You go to her. I am going away for a while. You may tell Mara for me that I do not know when I shall return."
Hamez felt his anger ebb as his son went out the door. He had been hard on him. Tajarez was not used to opposition in any form, a fact that Hamez had always felt great pride in until now. He did not want to see the rift between his son and Mara widen. He would seek out Mara and try to make her understand. He was sure Tajarez would return later tonight.
Mara did not go to her room, but went instead into the garden. Seeing a familiar shadow following her, she waited for Palomas to catch up with her. "I have missed you, my faithful watchdog," she told him.
"I have waited for your return," he said, surprised at himself for letting his feelings for her show. Since she had been away the days had been long. At first he had convinced himself that the monotony of being idle caused his restlessness, but as the days turned into weeks, he knew it was Mara herself that he missed. He loved her. It was not a love that cried out to possess, nor was it a love that wanted to be revealed to anyone. It was a pure, unselfish love. He wanted her happiness, for in her happiness he found his own joy. He was unable to function as a man, and he did not want Mara in that way. He wanted to fulfill his duties and protect her, and in doing so, he would be able to be near her each day.
"Sit down beside me, Palomas, and let us talk. That is something you and I have never done."
He sat down beside her, taking great care not to touch her. "What would you have me talk about, Mara?"
She needed something to take her mind off Tajarez and her troubles for the moment. She had been deeply hurt by his admission. Their time together had been so wonderful until Tajarez revealed to her how he felt about the baby. He could not truly love her as she did him. He did not want her baby, and he was ashamed of her.
Pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind, she looked at Palomas. She no longer found him annoying. He was beautiful to her—one who had risked his life to save hers—and she had a very special feeling for him. "Tell me about your family, Palomas."
"My father is one who raises horses. My mother is dead. I have three sisters and two brothers. I am the youngest."
"Did you help your father with his horses before you become my bodyguard, Palomas?"
"Yes. I grew up thinking I would raise horses as my father and his father before him."
"Have you ever regretted giving up your father's trade merely to look after a woman?"
He studied the tip of his moccasin. "I have never regretted it. My father feels great pride that I, a son of his, should be chosen for such an honor."
"I am learning a great deal about the pride of the Lagonda people, Palomas." She felt very close to tears and tried to hide it from him. The Lagonda women did not cry, another one of her faults that Tajarez had pointed out to her. She could do something about her tears, but she could not change the fact that she was white.
"Tell me, Palomas, will you feel revulsion if my baby has white skin, as I do, or hair the color of mine?"
"You are with child?" Palomas said softly.
"Yes, it would seem so."
"That is wonderful. I am very happy for you and Tajarez. The people will be overjoyed."
"You did not answer my question," she pressed. "What if my baby is white?"
Palomas knew she was upset by something. He had sensed it when she first came home. Now he knew what it was. The prince must have told her he did not want his child to be white. For the first time in his life, Palomas felt anger toward the prince he had sworn to honor and serve. It was his duty to protect Mara, but he could not protect her from her own husband. He fought against the impulse to reach for her hand.
"I will feel the same about the child if it is white, as well as if it is a boy or girl. It will make no difference to me. Nor will it matter to the people, but they would prefer that you have a boy first. It is only natural," he said in a matter-of-fact voice, trying to keep the conversation light.
Mara sighed deeply and rose to her feet. "I will go to bed now. I am weary." She walked down the path, with Palomas walking beside her. Just as they reached the door, Hamez joined her. Palomas stepped back a pace and watched as the king took Mara's hand in his.
"I came to talk with you, my daughter. Tajarez has told me what has upset you. I do not want you to take what he said too seriously. It is only natural that a man who is about to become a father would wonder what his child will look like."
"Did he send you to make peace, my father?"
"No. He does not know that I have come to you." He paused, hating to tell her that his son had left the palace. "He has gone away for a short time so he can have time alone. It is something he has done since he was a child. When he was troubled about something, he would seek solitude to work out his problem."
"You do admit that my baby is a problem for him."
"I admit that if the two of you do not talk this out there could be a problem. Mara, a wife must try and understand her husband and accept his faults when she cannot change them."
Mara looked him proudly in the face. "I accepted your son a long time ago. It is he who is having trouble accepting me."
"Come, my child, I will see you to your room. Tajarez will soon be home begging you for forgiveness. I have not told you of the great joy I felt that you will make me a grandfather. It is something I have long awaited. For a time I feared my line would die out with Tajarez. But he found you, loved you, and took you as his bride. Trust me when I tell you when my son holds his firstborn in his arms he will not see the color of the baby. He will feel only love and pride in the infant."
Mara smiled faintly. "Oh, mighty peacemaker. You are very wise, my father, but in this you cannot speak for Tajarez. Had he been less truthful with me, he would not be the man he is. If I were not truthful with you now, I would be less than I am. I believe that Tajarez will not love my baby. He will be unable to accept it if it is white. I know this to be true, but I do not know what to do about it."
Hamez stopped at her bedroom door. He cupped her face in his hands. "I could not love you more if you were a daughter from my own body. It pains me to see this trouble between you and Tajarez. Sleep well tonight. He will return soon, and together you will find the answer to your problems." He kissed her cheek and bid her a good night.
Tajarez did not return that night nor the next. In fact, a week had gone by, and still he did not return. Mara cried herself to sleep almost every night, but in the daylight hours she managed to present a happy face. Everyone was aware that she was making an effort to present a brave front, but no one called attention to it.
... A LARGE CITY ... IT HAS MANY PEOPLE AND STREETS AND PLAZAS, AND ... IN SOME PARTS OF THE CITY THERE ARE SOME VERY LARGE HOUSES THA
T HAVE TEN STORIES, AND THAT IN THESE THE CHIEFS ASSEMBLE ON CERTAIN DAYS OF THE YEAR. HE SAID THE HOUSES ARE OF STONE AND LIME, IN THE FORM THAT I WAS TOLD BY THOSE BEFORE, AND THAT THE PORCHES AND FRONT OF THE PRINCIPAL HOUSES ARE OF TURQUOISES. HE TOLD ME THAT THE OTHER SEVEN WERE OF THE SAME STYLE OF THIS CITY BUT SOME WERE LARGER.
—Friar Marcos
24
Tajarez had now been away for seven days. Jeffery and Sasha had returned, and Sasha resumed her duties to Mara, although Mara had eased her out of the role of waiting upon her into that of companion. Sasha insisted, however, on directing the three women who now waited upon Mara, and she made sure that they did everything to her satisfaction.
Mara hardly ever saw her brother because he was always training with his men. He had told Mara that he had been a little apprehensive at first to be in command of the fierce Lagonda warriors, knowing they were much more proficient in the ways of hunting and fighting than he was, but the warriors had accepted him as their leader without hesitation and he found that while he learned many things from them, he could also contribute to their knowledge with skills from the white man's world.
Hamez was away from the city at the moment. One of the chiefs of the lesser cities had died, and Hamez was holding a council meeting to decide who would replace him.
Mara spent most of her days with Sagas. She was making very slow progress deciphering the carvings on the wall. She had compared the hieroglyphics to the ones in her father's notes, and it would take her many hours to find similarities. She had unraveled a small portion of the writings, and Sagas showed his joy as she began to read to him:
"I, Ramses, left Egypt under threat of death from my younger brother. With my family and a few faithful followers I sought a safe haven."
Mara beamed at Sagas over her notes. "It is as I thought, Sagas, the ancestors of the Lagonda came to this valley from Egypt."
Sagas was beside himself with joy. "Tell me more, Mara. I would hear how they found this valley."
She laughed at his enthusiasm. "I have to go slowly, Sagas, but before long you will have your complete story."
Savage Desire (Savage Lagonda 1) Page 34
