Daughter of Egypt

by Constance O'Banyon

  Thalia cast him a skeptical glance.

  “Of late the people have watched the birds more closely to see if they migrate from the island. There are those who say very few hawks are left on Bal Forea. They believe your coming will begin the return of the hawks.”

  “ ’Tis naught but a fabrication invented by those who foster gloom.” She watched the sails ripple. “There is a soothsayer in Alexandria who swears Queen Cleopatra will be the last ruling pharaoh of Egypt. We all know that cannot be true because her majesty is young and healthy and has three children to succeed her. At least one of them will surely live to be pharaoh.”

  “But there are no such children on Bal Forea. Our king is of advanced age, and there is only you to stand in his stead.”

  Thalia confronted Ashtyn, her eyes blazing with anger. “Our every conversation ends in an argument, and I am weary of it. Can you speak on any subject but the plight of Bal Forea? Why don’t you start by telling me who you really are.”

  He smiled, dazzled by her fiery spirit. “I am Count Ashtyn, of the house of Tyran, commanding general of his majesty’s forces.”

  Her eyes widened. She had suspected he was more than he seemed, but she had not thought him to have such high rank. “And I am Lady Thalia of the house of Tausrat,” she said, bowing to him, the glint in her eyes daring him to challenge her identity.

  Ashtyn decided not to contest the matter of her title at the moment. To her surprise, he touched her cheek. “The bruise where Turk struck you is still visible.”

  “And my shoulder aches where you knocked me off that horse and fell on top of me.” She suddenly laughed. “It must have been a contest between the two of you to see which could bruise me the most.”

  She saw Ashtyn flinch at her words.

  “It was unfortunate I had to recapture you in such a way, and I ask your pardon. Know this—I would never strike you,” Ashtyn said, his silver gaze sweeping her face. “The next time Turk and I meet, one of us will die.”

  Thalia knew she had just caught a true glimpse of the Destroyer, the man whose name struck fear into the hearts of his enemies.

  She was startled when she caught the eye of one of the older boatmen, and he immediately went to his knees and bowed his head.

  “Make them stop,” she said, stepping back quickly. “I do not want to be worshiped like some goddess. I am not someone on whom that man can place his hopes.”

  “But you are his only hope,” Ashtyn said, then snapped his fingers at the boatman and sent him away.

  Thalia still wore Ashtyn’s robe over her short tunic, and she had to hold it up to keep from tripping over it. Her hair was tangled, and she could still feel sand and grit on her face. “You know full well I look more like a guttersnipe than a princess of Bal Forea.”

  He placed his hand on the railing of the ship and stared down at her. “It is not the clothing we see—it is the woman inside.”

  Her chin went up. “Not me!”

  “You are everything we could hope for.” He smiled. “That little dimple in your chin, the bright blue eyes, the gold in your hair. We see in you our future queen.”

  He was using that seductive tone again, and it twisted Thalia’s insides. Drawing two quick breaths, she felt a quiver deep inside her. “I have no knowledge of signing treaties or ending wars. Your island needs someone well-versed in political relations between countries.” Her gaze found and locked with Ashtyn’s. “You should know this about me—I was once a thief and pickpocket. Not a commonplace thief—I was good at it.”

  Thalia had intended to shock Ashtyn, but she saw him smile. “There is very little of your past that is unknown to me. I have been informed about your life on the streets of Rome.”

  “Then you should realize I am unworthy. I know what it means to see someone worthy sit on a mighty throne, because I have observed Queen Cleopatra. She is wise and learned. I am not like her.”

  “You will be surrounded by men of great knowledge, and they will advise you. And you will have—”

  Suddenly he wouldn’t meet her eyes, and he seemed nervous. “There is something you are not telling me,” she said suspiciously.

  “Nay.”

  “If you want me to trust you, Count Ashtyn, you must be truthful with me. Else I will not believe anything you say.”

  “What would you have me tell you?”

  “What you are keeping from me.”

  Ashtyn realized Thalia was astute like her grandfather, and not easily misled. “The king will explain everything you need to know.”

  “I say, nay. You answer my questions since your king is not here,” she demanded. “What more should I know?”

  Ashtyn looked away as he spoke, “A husband has been chosen for you.”

  Thalia’s eyes widened, and she grabbed his sleeve. “You have taken me away from my country by force, you dragged me across the desert and put me on this ship, and now you tell me I will be forced to marry someone I do not know?” She shook her head. “I will not!”

  Guilt settled on Ashtyn’s shoulders. “You must take this matter up with the king.”

  “Did your king not learn anything by trying to force his daughter to marry against her will?”

  Ashtyn said nothing.

  But Thalia was unrelenting. “Who is this man that has been chosen for me?” she demanded.

  “That is for the king to say.”

  “Are you telling me you don’t know who he is?”

  “Nay, I know.”

  Thalia took a step backward, feeling sick inside. Count Ashtyn was not going to say anything more. Her chest tightened and she shook her head. “I want to be taken to my cabin.”

  He swept her a bow, and she did not see the relief in his eyes. “As you wish, Highness.”

  Ashtyn escorted Thalia across the deck, and she kept her eyes downcast so she wouldn’t see the men dropping to their knees as she passed. Feeling angry and helpless, she followed Ashtyn down several steps and waited with him as he opened a door. When Thalia stepped inside, the luxury of the cabin took her by surprise. As she turned around slowly, her mouth opened in astonishment. The walls were covered with beaten silver, and the floors were covered by a red silken rug with the image of a black hawk woven into the middle.

  When Thalia noticed the woman who stood silently with her head lowered, waiting to be presented, she looked inquiringly at Ashtyn.

  “Princess Thalia, this is Eleni. She has been chosen to serve you. Should you wish to learn our language, she has knowledge of Greek, which is spoken on Bal Forea.”

  Thalia’s eyes burned with indignation. “Were you so certain you would capture me that you brought this woman to serve me?”

  He stared into her eyes without blinking. “I had no doubt you would be sailing home on this ship.”

  Before Thalia could reply, Ashtyn bowed and left, closing the door behind him.

  Slowly Thalia turned to the woman. “Do you speak Egyptian or Latin? I know very little Greek, certainly not enough to converse with you in that language.”

  The servant appeared to be in her thirties. Her blonde hair was braided and clipped to the top of her head with an onyx clasp. There was a serenity about her, a calmness that showed in the smoothness of her smile. She seemed hesitant to speak, and Thalia thought she must not understand Egyptian.

  “Did you not understand my words?”

  “Aye, gracious Highness,” she replied in stilted Egyptian. “I speak both, which is why I was chosen to serve you on this voyage. If I hesitate, it is merely because of the honor I feel in standing before you. We of Bal Forea were not sure if you were our hope or merely a myth.”

  “I am neither—I am Egyptian.”

  Eleni looked confused.

  Trying to rid herself of her frustration, Thalia paced across the rug, pausing when she came to a shelf filled with sheepskin scrolls. At any other time she would have been tempted to read every one of them, but they were probably written in Greek.

  “Highness, shall
I prepare your bath?” Eleni asked shyly. “The trunks along the wall are filled with clothing and shoes for you.”

  Thalia wanted to say no, but a bath sounded wondrous. She nodded, moving to one of the trunks and lifting the lid. She drew in her breath at what she saw. There were gowns of the most brilliant colors she had ever seen: blues darker than the sky on a cloudless day, reds that rivaled the sunset, and the deep purple worn only by royalty. She ran her hand across the material of a green silk, wanting very much to feel it against her skin.

  Thalia stared at the filthy robe that covered her short tunic. She quickly lifted it over her head and tossed it aside. She certainly could not confront her enemies if she looked like a peasant.

  Chapter Fourteen

  For two days Thalia remained in her cabin, seeing no one but Eleni. She had many questions, and the young woman seemed to be knowledgeable, but stubbornness and pride prevented Thalia from asking anything about Bal Forea.

  Succumbing to boredom, Thalia removed one of the sheepskin scrolls from the shelf and was delighted to discover it was written in Latin, a language she read as well as Egyptian. She spread it before her on a table and began to read.

  She went from one scroll to another, devouring the history of Bal Forea. She frowned when she came to the part where the ancient ancestors of the present-day Bal Foreans had survived a great catastrophe from a massive volcano eruption. The volcano had buried the entire landmass, and it sunk into the sea, killing tens of thousands. According to the scrolls, those few who lived made their way to an uninhabited island where the only survivor of the royal family was the youngest son, who named the island Bal Forea.

  Their homeland that had sunk into the ocean was called “Atlantis”!

  With renewed fervor, Thalia bent her head to another scroll. She recalled reading a translation of the works of the Greek philosopher Plato, where he mentioned a cataclysmic eruption that had devoured all signs of Atlantis. Could the Bal Foreans actually be descended from the people of that doomed land?

  After reading for hours, Thalia’s eyes were stinging, and she realized the light was fading. But she was too excited to stop. The ever-observant Eleni lit a lantern, and Thalia continued to read.

  Eleni brought her a meal of cheese and fruit, and still Thalia read.

  “Will you not rest now?” Eleni asked timidly.

  “Nay. I have too much to learn in so little time. It will be better for me if I know something of your people’s history when I face your king.” Thalia bent her head back to the fascinating chronicles.

  Long into the night the lantern burned low as Thalia rubbed her tired eyes, still too excited to stop reading.

  Standing high upon the deck, Ashtyn watched Eleni cross to him as she had every day to make her report on the progress of the princess.

  “How does your lady fare?” he asked, his gaze sweeping to the stern and the small island to the west.

  “She is well, Lord. She continues to read the scrolls, and she will not be stopped.”

  Ashtyn took a deep breath. It had been the king’s hope that Thalia would want to learn about Bal Forea. Ashtyn had thought it was a futile undertaking since it had taken seven scholars three years to complete the task of translating the work into Latin, and they had not been certain the princess would even be able to read.

  Ashtyn glanced down at the woman. “What do you think of her highness?”

  Eleni’s eyes rounded. She had not expected the great lord to be interested in her opinion. “There is kindness in the princess, but she is sad, missing her family. And she is angry because she does not want to believe she is the princess.”

  Ashtyn met the woman’s gaze, but he did not actually see her. It saddened him that Thalia still suffered. “Return to her and serve her well.”

  The ship was riding the waves, and Thalia stared at the ceiling of her cabin, feeling as if she was being gently rocked to sleep. Her eyes drifted shut, and she lost herself in a dream. But there was something different about this dream: there was a man standing between Thalia and danger. The man had piercing eyes and a mighty sword arm.

  He stepped out of the shadows and stared at her as if he wanted something, but his eyes gave nothing away.

  “I have been waiting,” she stated. Suddenly he came to her and crushed her against his breastplate. “What is happening to me?” she asked.

  His mouth was near hers, but he did not bend to touch her lips. “I will answer you thus,” he said in a deep, mesmerizing voice. “What is happening to you is also happening to me. We were destined to be together.”

  Disappointment assailed Thalia when he held her away from him. She felt a yearning so deep it was like a ripping pain in her heart.

  “You must find your way to me,” he told her softly.

  Thalia felt the dream fading, although she tried to hold on to it. Her eyes flew open, and she found herself sitting up in bed. Her heart was pounding, and it took her a moment to realize where she was. But the sway of the ship brought her back to the present, and she knew well the man who had walked in her dream.

  Ashtyn.

  Her gaze swept the darkened cabin and she could barely see Eleni where she slept near the door. Thalia eased her body back onto the bed, wide awake. In her dream she had wanted Ashtyn as a woman wants a man.

  Thalia reminded herself that dreams were not real. She wanted more than anything to be rid of Ashtyn, the Destroyer.

  As sunlight advanced across the rug, there was a pounding on the door. Eleni opened it a crack and spoke quietly to whoever was on the other side. When they left, she turned woefully to the princess.

  “The master says you will become ill if you continue to remain in the cabin. He wants you dressed and on deck before the noon hour.”

  “Who is he to issue me orders? I am not bound to obey him. Go and tell him I shall do as I please.”

  “But Highness, I dare not,” Eleni said, looking distressed. “Next to the king, he is the most important man in Bal Forea.”

  Thalia glared at the door, then her head snapped around in the maid’s direction. “Do you believe me to be your princess?”

  “Aye, Highness.”

  “Then you should have no trouble obeying my orders over Count Ashtyn’s.”

  Eleni paused before she spoke. “I will obey you over Count Ashtyn.”

  “It is distasteful to have the ship’s crew bowing to me. Nay, I shall not leave this cabin, and you may tell him I said so.”

  “As you wish, Highness. Shall I not bring your food and help you dress before I approach Count Ashtyn?”

  “Aye. I want to be dressed should he decide to storm this cabin.”

  When Eleni told the count what Thalia had said, storm the cabin was precisely what he did. Not bothering to knock, he thrust the door open with such force, it banged against the wall.

  Thalia had been expecting him. Taking her time in rolling a scroll and reaching for another from the shelf, she didn’t look up as he stood seething before her. At last she met his angry gaze. “What is the meaning of this intrusion?” she asked, while Eleni cringed in a corner.

  “You will accompany me on deck and take the air. I have no intention of delivering you to your grandfather in an unhealthy condition.”

  “I shall not!”

  Without ceremony, he swept her into his arms. “I think you will, Highness.”

  She kicked her legs and twisted her body, trying to be free of him, but he held her tightly.

  “Put me down!”

  Ashtyn’s jaw clenched. “Only if you accompany me of your own will.”

  “Nay!”

  Without a word he carried Thalia out of the cabin, not stopping until he reached the steps that led to the deck. “Shall I carry you all the way, or will you walk?”

  She was so angry she wanted to hit him. But when her gaze settled on his piercing eyes, she saw no yielding reflected in the silver-blue depths. After struggling with her own anger, she finally nodded. He had won this battle, but
she was determined she would win the final one. Just when she was about to tell him so, the oddest thing happened.

  He dipped his head, his long unbound hair sweeping against Thalia’s cheek. He said in a deep voice, almost as if the words were being forced from him, “Since meeting you, my dreams have been disturbing.”

  Thalia could not find her voice, as she remembered her own dream.

  Their gazes locked. “You have beguiled me, Highness.”

  His mouth was so near her own that if she moved the merest bit their lips would touch. “Nay,” she whispered, wanting to touch his lips, to tangle her fingers in his dark hair. “I am no caster of spells. And why would I want to draw you to me?”

  With an abruptness that took her by surprise, Ashtyn set her on her feet. “I expect you to spend part of each day in the fresh air.”

  Thalia stood on the first step, her anger returning. “However can I resist such a charming invitation?”

  A sudden smile lurked at the corner of Ashtyn’s mouth. “We are within sight of the isle of Capreae, and I thought you might like to see it.”

  “I can’t think of anything I would like better,” she said with a bite to her tone, “unless it would be to look upon the coastline of Egypt.” In a swirl of green silk, she stepped on deck. She cried out in alarm and stepped back when one of the helmsmen dropped to his knees before her.

  “Get up!” she ordered him. But the man did not understand Egyptian and, of course, he did not move.

  She glanced back at Ashtyn, pointing to the man. “Tell him to rise.”

  Ashtyn laughed as he tapped the man on the shoulder and nodded for him to move away. “I cannot order the whole crew not to worship at the feet of their future queen.”

  “There is no truth to what you say,” she said, gingerly stepping around the still-prostrate figure. With measured steps she moved to the railing, her gaze on the landmass in the distance. “I have heard about Capreae. It is not a very important island, and Egypt does not bother to trade with its people.”

  “Bal Forea, on the other hand, does trade with Capreae. Most probably, Egypt would find our island too insignificant to bother with as well.”