by Diana Green
After a few days, Jehan achieved a certain calm equilibrium. She wasn’t happy about the way events had played out, but she could accept them. At least the raid provided a haul rich enough to support the outlaws for months, and Gamal left behind no spouse or children to lament his passing. Basim was likewise unattached, having preferred his freedom.
All in all, things could have been worse.
Jehan determined to safeguard against further misery, especially in regards to Saba. Letting the princess into her heart would exact too great a price. She needed to keep things between them civil but distant. It was simply a matter of will.
As the outlaws finally rode into their hidden valley—on an unusually cool and cloudy morning—Jehan’s best intentions began to crumble. An involuntary giddiness rose in her body. She would soon be seeing Saba, and that knowledge filled her with nervous excitement both vulnerable and embarrassing. A woman almost thirty years old shouldn’t feel so absurdly adolescent!
She tried to get a grip on herself—repeating all the arguments for caution—but those attempts failed. Her heart leapt when she saw Saba join the gathering to welcome the returning band. As Jehan swung down from her horse, the princess rushed over, hesitating only a moment before offering an unexpected and wonderfully ardent hug.
“I’m so glad you’re safe and well!” Saba declared, voice breathless. “I missed you!”
“I missed you too.” Jehan recognized the full truth of the words, as they left her lips. Her arms tightened around the princess, holding her close. She smelled sweet and fresh, like the desert after rain—the soft curves of her body as intoxicating as wine. If only this moment could last forever.
“I have something important to tell you.” Saba took a small step back, boldly meeting Jehan’s gaze. “Is there a time we can speak together?”
“Of course…after I’ve shared out the goods from the raid.” Jehan struggled to gather her wits, distracted by Saba’s shining eyes, her flushed cheeks, and irresistible smile.
There was something different about her, an openness and vivacity she’d previously kept hidden—except when dancing. Gone was the carefully guarded and submissive young princess. She’d come out of her shell, in a way that set Jehan’s senses reeling.
What a glorious woman! Life in the settlement must truly agree with her...and might that mean she’d choose to stay? Could that be what Saba wished to tell her?
Hope, heady and frightening, swept through Jehan. “I’ll come find you,” she managed to say. “When we’re done with business here.”
“I’ll be at Mari’s.” Saba grinned. “I’m so happy you’re back!”
Jehan’s breath caught. “As am I.”
~*~
Asab Kah Akbah slept till late morning and woke in a cold sweat, the bedclothes tangled around his limbs. He’d had yet another dream of his father—the third in a week. The old man proved just as hard and unrelenting in Asab’s nightmares as in life. He’d always been stingy with praise, generous only with the force of his fist. But damn it all, if he wasn’t the strongest man Asab had ever known!
“It’s my time now,” Asab growled, shoving the bedclothes aside. “I’ll show the bastard!”
He rose and stalked toward his private bathing chamber, as servants hurried to tend him. With an impatient grunt he waved them away, wishing to be alone with his thoughts. The scented water had been kept ready and waiting at the perfect temperature—just hot enough to hurt a little when he first entered the tiled pool.
Releasing a long sigh Asab leaned back, letting tension float away with the wafts of rising steam. The nightmares about his father meant nothing—certainly not omens of failure. Let the old tyrant haunt his sleep. It was the waking world that mattered, and there Asab would prevail.
The bath, followed by a sumptuous meal, improved his mood. Asab’s spirits rose even higher after learning Lord Sallizahn had returned from his journey and requested an immediate audience. Surely that meant good news!
The two men met in the palace menagerie, cleared of all staff to ensure privacy. Sallizahn wasted little time on pleasantries, which suited Asab.
“I’m confident a spell can be developed to find Amira Saba,” the sorcerer stated. “While the Conclave library didn’t offer a perfect match, I found several useful resources that should combine to meet our needs.”
“How long will the process take? Zula Kianga has publically announced her pregnancy, and fools are flocking to support her. I need to make my move soon, before she bears the Padishah a grandson.”
“Patience, my friend. This sort of magic is a delicate business and cannot be rushed.”
“Don’t patronize me!” Asab growled. “And the proper way to address a pasha is ‘Sire’. Not ‘my friend’ or any other familiar term. Do you understand?”
Sallizahn’s eyes narrowed, his lips pulling into a hard line. He seemed ready to argue then thought better of it. “Of course…Sire.” A hint of malice edged his words, but Asab let it go. He and the sorcerer didn’t have to like each other. They simply needed to get the job done.
“What is your best estimate, for the time it will take to ready a spell? One day? One week?”
“No longer than a month, I should think.” Sallizahn held up a hand, to forestall Asab’s objections. “In order to work accurately, the tracking spell will require a direct connection with your daughter. This can be forged only when the warding I cast on her is activated. Once I construct the spell, we must wait for a triggering event to occur.”
“You can’t be serious!” Asab bellowed. “We have to sit around twiddling our thumbs, waiting for something that may never happen. There must be another way.” He grabbed Sallizahn’s arm in a vice grip. “You will find another way!”
“Calm yourself.” Sallizahn clearly struggled to contain his anger. “The warding has already activated once, and I’m sure it will again. Amira Saba is surrounded by myriad dangers. That is one reason I will do all in my power to bring her home soon.”
Asab nodded, releasing the sorcerer’s arm. “You say the warding already activated? When was this?”
“Three evenings ago, for only the briefest moment, but it was enough. With my inner sight I caught a glimpse of Amira Saba and a yellow scorpion by her foot.”
“Did your warding protect her?”
“Of course,” Sallizahn snapped. “I’m no charlatan performing with smoke and mirrors. My spells are highly effective.”
“I should hope so, considering I’m giving you my daughter in exchange for—”
“More to the point,” the sorcerer interrupted, “I can use a connection even that brief…mere seconds…to cast a tracking spell that will lead us directly to her. All I need is a little time to gather ingredients and formulate an arcane structure. I promise you will not be disappointed.”
“I suppose,” Asab conceded. “We still have several months before the heir’s child is due. It should be sufficient time, if you work swiftly.”
“Believe me, I will.”
Chapter Twelve
Saba flew through her household tasks, energized by seeing Jehan back safe from the caravan raid. Relief mingled with pure happiness as she ran over their encounter in her mind. Jehan had returned her hug with enthusiasm and seemed genuinely pleased to be reunited.
“You’re getting quite handy at that,” Mari observed from her sleeping mat, as Saba prepared the midday meal. “I don’t know how I’d manage without you…feeling poorly, as I do.”
“It’s a pleasure to be useful.” Thankfully her skill at daily chores was improving. She could truly lighten Mari’s load, now when it mattered most.
“You’ve come so far, so fast. I can’t believe it’s less than three full weeks since you arrived in the valley. It feels as if you’ve always been here.”
“I know.” Saba flipped an oval of pan bread to brown on the opposite side. “Life in the palace seems a million miles away, as if it happened to a different person.”
Only three
nights ago, she’d made her decision to stay in the valley. Who could have guessed how empowering that choice would be? For the first time she charted her own direction in life, subject to no one else’s command. She felt like a phoenix, reborn from the ashes of her old existence.
After they ate, Mari dozed off. Saba sat outside under the almond trees, mending a hand-me-down skirt. She had learned embroidery as a child, and it was a skill easily turned to practical purposes.
Presently Jehan and Makeem arrived, each carrying an armload of goods. Saba rose to her feet, heartbeat speeding and senses sharpening as the bandit leader drew near.
“This is Mari’s share from the raid,” Jehan explained, offering a warm smile. “Where shall we put it?”
“Here in the shade. I’ll move it to the house later, when she’s done napping.”
They carefully placed the goods around the base of an almond tree. There were containers of food and lamp oil with a few other household items mixed in. A particularly beautiful roll of silk caught Saba’s eye, the fabric rich amber in color, embellished with bronze and copper thread.
“I thought you might like that,” Jehan gestured toward the cloth, a gleam in her eyes. “It would suit you very well.”
“Thank you.” Saba blushed, flattered to know Jehan had been thinking of her.
“How is Mari today?” Makeem asked, oblivious to the hidden currents flowing between the two women.
“She’s much the same, weak and tired.”
“Makeem told me about her illness.” Jehan’s brow furrowed with concern. “It sounds serious.”
“Yes. Serious enough, she can’t heal herself. I’ve just started my training, so all I can do is try and help in other ways. Actually, that is one of the things I want to talk with you about…when you’re available.”
“I have time now,” Jehan responded.
“Ah. Good.” A jolt of nerves shot through Saba, as the moment for her declaration approached. Would Jehan accept her decision easily, or would there be conflict? The Falcon had such a strong personality. It could prove difficult standing up to her, and yet that’s exactly what Saba needed to do. Nothing would force her back to the palace.
“I’ll leave you to it,” said Makeem, turning to go. “Give Mari my best, when she wakes.”
“I will.” Saba watched him depart, uncertain how to proceed with the conversation. Should she plunge right into the thick of it or attempt small talk first?
“We could walk to the stream,” Jehan suggested.
“Yes. I’d like that.”
The two women set out at a comfortable pace, their shadows falling long in the gold light of afternoon. White butterflies floated among the plants in Mari’s garden, accompanied by dozens of Bennu’s bees. In the scrub along the trail, families of chukars foraged, the adult birds’ white and black striped heads as distinctive as their raspy rhythmic calls.
While walking, Saba glanced sideways at Jehan, admiring the confident strength with which she carried herself, completely at ease in her own skin. She radiated an undeniable magnetism, drawing Saba like a moth to flame. Only this fire between them wasn’t deadly—a little risky maybe—but definitely worth taking a chance on.
As they neared the stream Jehan began relating details of the caravan raid, leading to her interrogation of the young soldier. She spoke with care, seeming concerned the news might hurt Saba.
“I’m sorry, but your father has given up the search, and he doesn’t appear willing to negotiate terms of any kind. I can’t explain it. I assumed he would want…” Jehan shook her head, letting the words remain unspoken. She clearly didn’t know what to say, under the circumstances.
In contrast Saba felt a burst of relief. It came as no surprise her father had lost interest. She never mattered deeply to him, and now he’d simply moved on. So much the better!
Lighthearted she hurried ahead, hopping down the stream bank and kicking off her sandals to wade in the shallows. Jehan followed but remained on shore, silent and visibly troubled. She gazed across the valley, frowning, caught in her own thoughts.
At last she spoke. “There’s nothing I can say to make things right. I dragged you into this, and I’ll do my best to fix things. But I know I screwed up…badly. I’m so sorry.”
“Fix things? What do you mean?”
“By returning you home to the palace. It may be difficult, but I’ll find a way. You won’t be trapped here because of my mistake. I promise.”
Saba stepped out of the stream close to Jehan. “The valley is my home now. The palace was never anything but a prison. I don’t want to go back.”
Something flared in Jehan’s hawk-like eyes. “Are you sure? This can be a difficult life.”
“I’m absolutely certain. That’s what I wanted to talk with you about. Three nights ago, when Mari fell ill, I made a decision to stay. I love my life here. It’s an amazing feeling, being of real help to someone and knowing I am truly free. You can’t imagine what that means to me.”
Saba hurried on, determined to have her say. “I won’t be a burden. Mari needs me, and eventually I can take over her responsibilities…keeping the valley hidden, and serving as the settlement’s healer. Lessening her load will make a difference to her chances of recovery. It’s an arrangement that benefits everyone.”
Jehan appeared to be struck speechless, her face conveying a confusion of emotions. Saba felt hope and doubt pouring off her in waves. Rarely was the Falcon this openly vulnerable. Did she really care that much?
To be sure, Saba asked, “Are you glad I’m staying?”
“I am…yes! But I have concerns. I can’t guarantee anything, not a comfortable life, not safety. Won’t you miss the security of the palace and having all those fine things—”
“No!” Saba interrupted, unable to contain herself. She stepped closer, gaze locking with Jehan’s, willing her to understand. “Everything I want is right here.”
“Everything?”
In answer, Saba dared to lean forward bringing her mouth softly to Jehan’s. For a moment, both women held perfectly still, before drawing together in a delicious long-anticipated embrace. Jehan’s scent, taste, and the texture of her lips filled Saba’s awareness. She melted into the other woman’s arms, all hesitation gone.
Their kiss deepened with desire, and Saba’s entire body responded. Who knew a person could feel so much, overwhelmed with such sweet burning?
Two of the settlement dogs burst barking from of the scrub, tearing down the stream bank, chasing a desert hare. The noise and motion startled Saba and Jehan out of their bliss. Saba took a long breath, somewhat dazed.
Jehan grinned, fierce joy shining in her face. “Does this mean I can court you now?” Her words were playful, though her voice remained husky with emotion.
“I should hope so! You’ve certainly made a memorable start.”
“Actually, I believe it was you who kissed me first,” Jehan teased. “So perhaps I’m the one being courted.”
“Perhaps.” Saba traced the line of Jehan’s cheek and jaw with her fingertips. “I’ve been drawn to you since we first met but never had the courage to say so.”
“The feeling was entirely mutual. It just didn’t seem right, making advances when you were my hostage. Now I know you’re staying of your own free will, everything is different.”
“Praise the stars for that!” Saba leaned in for another heavenly kiss.
~*~
Next morning Saba woke early, filled with elation. She lay in bed, savoring the memory of yesterday—the wonder of her first kiss then afterwards sharing a perfect evening with Jehan, attending the community celebration together.
Most everyone had been in a fine mood, pleased with the rich returns from the caravan raid. The feasting, music, and dancing continued late, Saba and Jehan staying well past midnight. Afterwards, they walked back to Mari’s house, hand in hand, the sky a field of starry flowers above them.
More impassioned kisses followed, as they bid each oth
er goodnight. Jehan’s caresses stirred something new in Saba, a primal yearning beyond words or thought. She wanted to tear her clothes off and run naked through the night, howling at the moon like a wild thing.
Sleep did not come easily after so much excitement. But eventually she had dozed off and dreamed of flying like an eagle over the desert. Now awake, in the dim light preceding dawn, Saba hugged herself and grinned like a lovesick fool. She’d never imagined life could be this good!
Shivering a little in the morning chill, she rose and dressed, hurrying to light the cook fire and start a pot of tea heating. On her sleeping mat in the corner Mari began coughing, the sound growing more violent and painful, till the old woman gasped for breath.
Saba rushed over, supporting her by the shoulders so she could sit up and clear her windpipe properly. Holding a cloth for Mari to cough into, Saba saw globs of blood streaking the phlegm red. It didn’t take a healer to know this was a bad sign.
Soon the coughing subsided, and Mari lay back down looking pale and exhausted. Saba brought her a cup of tea, but the old woman waved her away.
“Are you sure?” Saba asked. “It might soothe your throat.”
“Not right now. I need to rest.”
Saba stayed nearby keeping a watch on her friend, all appetite for breakfast gone. Why did Mari’s condition worsen? Every day Saba channeled healing energy into the old woman’s frail body, also preparing her nourishing tonics and herbal remedies. Why wasn’t any of it working?
“It’s time we had a talk,” Mari murmured, eyes fluttering open as she turned to look at Saba. “I can feel the end drawing closer.”
“No! There has to be something we can do. I won’t accept—”
“Please listen to me. This is beyond either of us to change.” Mari’s voice held resignation and a sadness that broke Saba’s heart.
