Read The Golden Barbarian Page 18


  The old sheikh smiled unpleasantly. “You pamper her? The El Zalan has grown soft since you built your fine city and no longer roam the countryside. The women of El Kabbar know their place and display proper respect for their husbands. We teach them meekness with a whip.” He flung out his hand toward Tess. “Look at her. She wears no veil.”

  “She comes from Tamrovia, a country that doesn’t require their women to cover their faces.”

  “I’ve heard you do not demand it in Zalandan from your own women. Pah, weakness!”

  “You’re entitled to your own view.” Galen’s expression was bland. “However, you lost five of your women and six of your best horses to Tamar two months ago. Your strength didn’t prevent that from happening.”

  Hakim stared at him without answering.

  “Perhaps other measures are needed to prevent such a thing from happening again,” Galen said softly.

  “Your mouthing unity again?” The sheikh hesitated before turning abruptly away, the carriage of his tall, thin body rod straight. “It will do no harm to talk. Come.”

  Galen fell into step with the old sheikh, and they moved toward the large tent a few yards away.

  “Come, Majira.” Said’s tone was gentle. “It may be hours before—”

  “I know that.” Tess gestured impatiently. “I doubt if I’ll see Galen before morning.” She turned and followed the veiled woman through the encampment, acutely conscious of the heat of the sun’s rays on her own naked face. The women they passed were all gowned in black, their kohl-outlined eyes staring fearfully at Tess and Said above their heavy black veils. She had never felt more alien than she did at that moment. Zalandan was a liberated paradise compared to this tribal encampment. She should be accustomed to it, she thought wearily. The El Kabbar was the seventh encampment they had visited, and her reception had been the same at each. Well, not precisely the same. She was usually met with reserve and curiosity, not this hostility. Yet it didn’t ease the feeling of loneliness to know the women were downtrodden rather than resentful.

  Said’s gaze was fastened sympathetically on her face. “The majiron says we stay only one night here. The attack by Tamar has made the sheikh amenable to argument. They are not so strict with their women in the next tribe we visit.”

  “You mean they permit them to go unveiled and not to bow and kneel before their masters? How generous.” Tess’s gaze went to the woman hurrying ahead of them. “Dear Lord, I feel sorry for them. I want to strike out. Or shake them or—”

  “No!” Said’s expression was alarmed. “You must not do that. It would make the majiron’s task more difficult.”

  “Don’t worry.” She raked her fingers through her tousled hair. “It would do no good. They would just stare at me with those big eyes and …” She shook her head. “My own mother is the same. If my father lived in Sedikhan, I’ve no doubt he would force her to wear a veil.”

  The woman had stopped and was drawing back the flap of a small tent. She held it back for them to enter.

  “Thank you,” Tess said.

  The woman merely nodded, then swiftly lowered her lashes.

  Sweet Mary, the woman was even afraid of her. Tess felt the frustration welling up within her as she strode into the tent. She stopped short just inside, her senses assaulted.

  Heat, dimness, incense.

  She was vaguely able to discern various cluttered objects, a scattering of pillows, but they were all strange, alien. It was a cage.…

  She couldn’t breathe.

  The panic was rising within her, her heart pounding painfully.

  The impression of closeness was overpowering.

  “No!” She turned on her heel and bolted out of the tent, almost colliding with Said. The air outside was hot, too, but not smotheringly oppressive. She gasped frantically.

  “You’re pale.” Said was beside her. “Are you ill?”

  Tess shook her head, trying to stop the shudders racking her. “I can’t stay in the tent. Where did they put Pavda?”

  Said nodded to an enclosure a few yards distant. “Shall I get the majiron?”

  “No, of course not.” She moved away from the tent, trying to ignore the eyes of the women staring at her. “I’ll be all right soon. I just need to get away from here. I’ll go for a ride and—”

  “I’ll get the horses.”

  “No argument, Said? Aren’t you going to say such an action wouldn’t be fitting?”

  He shook his head. “Sometimes it is necessary to break with custom. I know these past days have not been easy for you.”

  She gazed at him in surprise.

  “I know of a small oasis within two miles of here. You can sit and become serene, and I will play my flute.” He paused. “If you will permit?”

  A sudden surge of affection coursed through her as she looked at his concerned expression. Said still didn’t approve of many of her actions, but over the last weeks they had begun to understand and accept each other. “I’ll be happy to have your company, Said.”

  * * *

  The moon had risen when Tess saw a lone rider approaching the oasis. Galen.

  She glanced at Said, who was sitting on a folded blanket under a palm tree a few yards away from the one against which she was leaning. “I suppose you sent someone to tell him where we were going?”

  “It was only courtesy, Majira.” He began playing his flute again.

  She should have thought to do that herself, but she had been desperate to get away from that tent … from all the pitifully staring eyes of the women. Besides, she had been sure Galen’s discussions with the sheikh would last well into the night as they usually did.

  Galen reined up beside Pavda and slid from Selik’s back. Was he angry? She couldn’t tell; his expression was hidden in the shadows of the palm trees.

  She straightened. “Did the talks go well?”

  “Well enough.” He strode over and knelt beside her. “How are you?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me. I just wanted to get away from—” She broke off. “I’m better now. We can go back to the encampment.”

  “Presently.” He sat down beside her and called to Said, “Go back and present my apologies to the sheikh. Tell him the majira is ill, and I won’t be able to meet with him until morning.”

  “No! I told you I wasn’t ill. I’ll be—”

  But Said was ignoring her protest and already striding toward his horse. Tess turned quickly to Galen. “Don’t be foolish. The sheikh already thinks you’re weak to pamper me. This isn’t a wise move.”

  “I don’t give a damn what the sheikh thinks of me. I don’t stand or fall by any man’s opinion.”

  “But the unity of Sedikhan might. I have no intention of having you fail to reach your goal after all I’ve gone through these last two months.” She got to her knees on the blanket. “Now, call Said back and tell him—”

  “Why? I don’t want his company.” Galen stretched out on the blanket and put his arms beneath his head. “I think we’ll stay here awhile. This is the first time I’ve felt free and relaxed since we started this journey.”

  “But the sheikh—”

  “The sheikh will think I’m weak where women are concerned.” He smiled lazily. “But I’ll have no trouble convincing him that I’m not vulnerable in other areas, and it will probably make him feel safer to consider himself superior to me.”

  She shook her head. “This isn’t necessary.”

  “It wasn’t necessary for you to bear loneliness and weariness for my sake,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t necessary for you to stand and let yourself be insulted and then watch me walk away from you without offering defense.”

  She gazed at him, startled. “I knew you couldn’t defend me without weakening your position.”

  “I wasn’t sure you understood.” He reached out and pulled her down in his arms, cradling her head in the hollow of his shoulder. “I can only fight one battle at a time. Once I’ve assured the unity, I can turn my thou
ghts to other problems.”

  She found herself relaxing against him, the weariness and discouragement miraculously easing. She found herself drawing nearer, taking strength from him. She suddenly blurted, “It was the women.”

  He was silent, waiting.

  “They were like slaves, caged and beaten into submission. Then I went into that tent, and it was like another cage.” She laughed shakily. “I think it frightened me.”

  “Frightened?”

  “That it could happen to me. All my life I’ve wanted to be free, but I knew that women couldn’t—one slip of fate and I could be caged like them and …” She trailed off and then said with sudden fierceness, “It isn’t right. Women shouldn’t be treated as chattels. Those poor women creeping around afraid to lift their eyes, and Dala losing her son but not allowed to have any say in deciding the fate of his murderer. It’s not fair, Galen.”

  “No.”

  “I always knew it wasn’t fair, but I accepted it as the way of the world. Dear heaven, even the priests tell us we must be meek and dutiful.” She gazed straight ahead into the darkness. “But I’ve been sitting here thinking, and I’ve decided you’re not entirely to blame. It’s our own fault for letting you do it. We haven’t had the courage to fight, to prove our worth. It has to change, Galen.”

  “I’ll shoulder my own sins, but I refuse to bear the rest of mankind’s.”

  “Actually, you’re better than the rest.”

  A smile tugged at his lips as he inclined his head. “I’m most grateful for such extravagant praise.” His smile faded. “I told you I cannot—”

  “You’re not listening to me. I’m asking nothing of you. It’s because we’ve relied on men to fight our battles that we didn’t deserve to win them.”

  “And you intend to fight this battle yourself?” He gently brushed the hair from her face. “God help us all.”

  “God has already helped the men of the world. It’s time we had our turn.”

  “And when do you intend to launch this offensive?”

  “I haven’t decided.” She grimaced. “It’s a difficult task.”

  “And it may take more time than you’ve allotted yourself.” His hand continued to stroke her temple, but he looked away from her. “Providing it’s the women of Sedikhan you’ve decided to save.”

  His words brought pain. She knew Galen found intense pleasure in her body, but he knew her well enough to realize she would probably be a great deal of trouble to him. She was a stranger in his land, and in these last weeks she had found just how suspiciously a stranger was regarded by his people.

  “They certainly appear to need saving.” She deliberately made her tone noncommittal and changed the subject. “Will Hakim attend the carobel in two weeks?”

  Galen nodded. “And probably vote for union. He’s suffered too much not to grasp any remedy for his troubles.”

  “We only have two more sheikhs to visit.” She paused. “Unless you intend to invite Tamar.”

  “I’m not mad. We’d have war before we reached the council tent.”

  “Won’t he be angry not to be invited and disrupt it anyway?”

  “I won’t let him.”

  “How will you—”

  “I’m tired of talk.” He began to unbutton her riding habit. “Lord knows, I’ll have enough of that when I get back to Hakim.” His head lowered, and his lips brushed her nipple as he whispered, “Hakim offered to give me a kadine to pleasure me tonight.”

  She stiffened. “What did you tell him?”

  “What could I say? I told him you were a goddess of love and that the reason I indulged you so extravagantly was because you sent me to paradise every time I moved between your thighs.”

  She could feel the familiar ache igniting in her womanhood as his teeth pulled gently on her nipple. She swallowed. “You didn’t have to lie to him.”

  He moved over her, drawing down the gown and parting her thighs. He muttered, “I didn’t. It was no lie.…”

  “It’s like a small village,” Tess murmured to Galen as they paused on the rise to look down at the festival site below.

  Over a hundred tents dotted the landscape in the valley, and the encampment was bustling with activity. Women tended huge kettles before their tents; men wandered about, laughing and talking; fine horses, their coats gleaming in the sunlight, moved restlessly in the enclosure at the far end of the encampment.

  “No children,” Tess noticed. “If this is a festival, where are the children?”

  “No one who has not passed their thirteenth natal day is permitted at the carobel.” Galen nudged his horse forward. “The children are left behind to be tended by the elders.”

  “Why?”

  “Both the race and the prizes are for grownups, and are taken very seriously.” Galen pointed at a small clearing at the western end of the encampment. “There’s Viane.”

  “Where?” Then Tess caught sight of Viane’s small figure moving gracefully and serenely through the crowds in the clearing. “Never mind, I see her!” She kicked Pavda into a gallop that sent the mare hurtling down the road ahead of Galen toward the encampment. “Viane!”

  Viane looked around, and a smile lit her face. She stood waiting until Tess reined in Pavda and slipped down from the saddle. “It’s good to see you. You look well.”

  Tess gave her an affectionate hug. “Did you bring Alexander?”

  Viane chuckled. “Why did I know that would be your first question? Of course I brought him. Didn’t you ask me in three separate dispatches to do so? He’s in my tent, and we can release him whenever you wish. I’ve told my maid to feed him his grain when he comes back to the palace.” She held up her hand as Tess started to speak. “And yes, I’ve been keeping him in practice. Kalim has been helping me.”

  Tess frowned. “Kalim?”

  Viane nodded. “Each evening he took him to Yusef’s house and released him,” She paused. “And for the last week he’s traveled about the city letting him go from different points. Alexander is getting quite proficient at finding his way home.”

  “Kalim didn’t mention helping you in any of the dispatches he sent to Galen.”

  “I’m sure he wouldn’t. It’s hardly a matter of state affairs.”

  “True.” It was surprisingly considerate of Kalim to give his time and effort to their project, but Tess wasn’t sure she approved. “If Sacha had been there, I’m sure he would have done the same thing.”

  Viane smothered a smile. “Possibly.”

  “Of course he would,” she said staunchly. “Is Kalim here?”

  “Of course, everyone comes to the carobel. It’s tradition for all men of stature to participate in the games.”

  “Even Galen?”

  Viane nodded. “He says it’s very important to observe the small traditions when you seek to break the big ones. He’s won the last four carobels.” Her smile faded. “I must not stand here talking. There is much to be done before the festival begins day after tomorrow. Food must be prepared.” She gestured toward a large tent. “And special quarters readied for the kadines.”

  “Kadines? Here?”

  “But of course. Did you not know it’s the custom to provide the winner of each event with a night with the woman of his choice? In the beginning there was much bloodshed when a winner chose the wife or daughter of other competitors, so it was decided to bring the most beautiful kadines to the carobels to avoid such a choice.” She shrugged. “Though the women service most of the men in the encampment before the festival is through. It’s not only the feast and games that bring the chiefs and their followers here. It’s tradition for each man to take his pleasure at least once with a kadine while at the festival.”

  “I … see.” She should have not been surprised. She had discovered that kadines were completely accepted even by wives and concubines. “Have they arrived from Zalandan yet?”

  Viane shook her head. “Tomorrow. But I must make sure their tent is comfortable and suitably furnished.
They receive many visitors.”

  “I imagine that’s true enough.”

  “I brought a trunk containing suitable clothing for you and also your jewel box.” Viane said briskly, “Naturally, you’ll want to add to Galen’s consequence by appearing in proper attire.” She cast a disapproving glance at Tess’s habit. “I suggest you change at once. Half the sheikhs have already arrived.”

  “There’s still time.” Tess glanced thoughtfully at the kadine’s tent. “Are they very beautiful?”

  “Of course, I selected them myself,” said Viane, surprised. “Why else would they be considered as prizes?”

  “I don’t know. It seems—”

  “Greetings, Viane.” Galen reined up beside them, his glance taking in the order and cleanliness of the encampment. “You’ve done well,”

  Viane flushed with pleasure, “There’s still much to do—I was explaining to Tess—but all will be ready by tomorrow.” She frowned sternly at Tess. “Change your clothing.”

  “Oh, very well.” Tess made a face. “But I refuse to smother my face in a veil, regardless of Galen’s consequence.”

  “A pity.” Galen’s eyes twinkled. “I’m sure old Hakim would regard such a concession as a major victory for me.”

  “No veil.” Tess’s tone was firm. Her glance fell on the kadine’s tent again, and she added carelessly, “However, I see no reason why I shouldn’t change into a gown.”

  “I’m grateful,” Galen said gravely.

  “After all, I’m quite weary of these habits after wearing nothing else for the past two months. And I’m not unreasonable.”

  Pearls framed the low square neckline of the gold brocade gown, the only ornamentation disturbing the graceful simplicity of the high-waisted garment.

  Not that she had overmuch to fill the bodice, Tess thought ruefully as she gazed into the polished bronze mirror. Still, the gold did seem to make her hair shimmer in contrast.

  Galen shifted his position on the divan, leaning his chin on his palm as he watched. “Quite splendid.”