Desert Song (DeWinter's Song 3) (16 page)

Chapter 18

Michael was in the stables with Sheik Hakeem, making plans to leave for Caldoia within the week. He was to pose as a Syrian merchant, and Hakeem's men would accompany him.

"You must enter the city on a camel," Hakeem said, leading one of the humped animals out of the fenced area where they were kept. "If you are to pass as a merchant, you must look the part."

"I have ridden a camel on occasion, but I find it uncomfortable," Michael said, looking with aversion at the beast. "I have no liking for the animal."

"And he has no liking for you. But have no fear, my friend. By the time you reach Caldoia, your backside and the camel's hump will be well acquainted." His eyes became hard. "I await the day we bring Sidi down."

"If my father is his prisoner, I will find him. I don't know how, but I will."

"Again, I would ask you to be patient, my young friend. We who oppose Sidi are growing stronger with each passing day. We have little time to find and free your father. For the war will soon begin. You must gain your father's release before the battle, or he will surely be killed. Sidi will want no proof left that he held your father captive."

Michael thought of the impossible task that lay before him. "We don't even know exactly where he is being held."

"Does not your religion say that the earth was created in one week? Surely you can deliver your father in twice that time. Let us pray that Allah will be on our side."

Hakeem turned his attention to Prince Khaldun, who was hurrying toward them. "It's time my son-in-law emerged from the bedroom. I thought we would never see him again. My little Yasmin has surely found favor with him, Allah be praised."

Michael frowned, seeing the worried look on Khaldun's face—something was wrong.

Khaldun hurried to him and clutched his robe. "I have grave news for you, Michael."

"Has something happened to my father?"

"No. It is Lady Mallory."

Michael stared at his friend. "What has happened to her?"

"While I had my men watching you, I also had two men watching Lady Mallory. I feared your enemies would become hers. It seems I was right."

"Tell me what's happened," Michael asked urgently. "Where is she?"

"She was captured by my uncle's men."

"But why?"

"These are questions we will ask when we find them. Ali and Fizal followed the men into the desert until they were certain where they were taking her. Fizal stays near them, while Ali came to report to me."

"Where are they taking her?"

"They ride in the direction of Caldoia. I do not have to tell you what will happen to her if she falls into the hands of my uncle. She is very beautiful and will be treated far differently than they treat your father."

"Have they hurt her?" Michael asked grimly.

"Ali says not. But they are as low as the sand flea and would have harmed her except they fear my uncle's wrath. I am sure their orders were to bring her to him unharmed. Ali does say they do not often feed her and that they seldom give her water."

Michael clenched his fists. He could not bear to think of Mallory in the hands of those murderous thieves. "We must go after her at once."

"Yes," Khaldun said. "If we hurry, we can intercept them before they reach the city. I know a way over the mountains that will save two days."

"Let's leave immediately," Michael said.

"We must first choose the men we will take with us, then we will need supplies. They will not escape us," Khaldun assured him. "But one does not go into the desert unprepared."

"I will ride along with you," Hakeem said, smiling. "I will enjoy a good fight. I do not think we will need anyone but the three of us and your man Ali to guide us."

Michael raised his face to the scorching sun that was like a. blazing, white-hot fire in the sky. How long someone with Mallory's delicate skin could endure the blistering heat, he could only imagine.

"Let us make haste," he urged. "We can't be certain they won't harm her."

* * *

Mallory hung her head, allowing her long hair to shade her face. She was so hot and thirsty, so tired. She had ceased caring about where her captors were taking her. If only she could have a drink of water and a shaded place to sleep. She closed her eyes, imagining she was at Stoneridge, riding across cool, green meadows. In her mind, she stopped beside the sparkling pond that divided her father's land from Sir Gerald's, and drank deeply of the water.

But harsh reality brought her back to the present. She called out to her tormenters. "Water, please. I must have water. I am so thirsty."

One of the men came to her and pushed a waterskin at her. When she eagerly reached for it, he pulled it back, laughing at her attempt. "Beg me for the water," he said, grinning.

Mallory tossed her head and looked at him. "I would die of thirst before I begged you for anything."

His eyes became hard, and he clamped her wrist painfully. "You will not be so haughty when Sheik Sidi has you in his grip." The man ran his hand down Mallory's cheek. "My master has a preference for women with pale skin." He took her chin in his grip and turned her face from side to side. "I must admit you are a rare jewel. He will pay us much for you because you are the woman of the Akhdar 'em Akraba."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I am no one's woman. I don't even know the man of whom you speak."

"You talk with a false tongue. Did I not see him go into your house and remain until you healed his wound? You must be his woman."

Mallory knew he was talking about Michael, but she thought it best to pretend ignorance. "Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

"It will do no harm for me to tell you. We are going to Caldoia. Until Sheik Sidi Ahmed returns and decides your fate, you will be placed in one of the cells in the west tower, where the great Inglizi lord is imprisoned. If you think the desert is bad, wait until you are locked in that rat-infested pesthole."

Mallory turned away, her eyes wide with apprehension. She was certain that the man spoke of Michael's father. Her suspicions were soon confirmed.

"I think the green-eyed scorpion will come when he learns we have you. He will come for you, as well as his father."

She blinked her eyes, hoping she had not been too long in the sun to comprehend his meaning. She asked, "You have Lord Michael's father?"

"Have I not said so?" He seemed to take pleasure in boasting of his plans. "We have baited the trap for the green-eyed one you call Lord Michael. You will be the bait that will draw him to us. They say that his magic is very powerful, but my master will conquer him. Sheik Sidi has offered much gold to the man who captures the green-eyed devil."

"I told you I am not his lady. I hardly know him. He will not come for me."

"Do not take me for a fool, and ask no more questions. It is enough that you know that the scorpion will soon be my master's prisoner and suffer the death of a thousand stings."

He released Mallory, and she fell back on the sand, but quickly scrambled to her feet, facing him defiantly. "I'll see you in hell before I help you capture Lord Michael."

"We do not need your help, lady, to lure your lord into our trap."

She turned away from him, feeling sick inside. "He will not be as easily fooled as you think."

"No, but he will be crazed when he learns we have you, and this will make him act rashly, I think."

She closed her eyes and huddled against the rough sheepskin blanket. What the man didn't know was that Michael would not come after her—no one would. She would be lost forever with no one to care. She thought of Michael's father, who had been in the grip of such an unscrupulous man, and feared for him.

* * *

London

Kassidy ripped open the letter from Michael while the rest of the family watched anxiously. In a clear voice, she began to read.

"Dearest Mother,

It is with a light heart that I inform you that Father is alive. He is being held prisoner by a man named Sheik Sidi Ahmed. I have many friends here in Egypt who are willing to help me gain his release. I am well and find much to admire in this land. I ask for your prayers for Father and myself. If God in his infinite mercy sees fit, we shall all soon be reunited. Take care of yourself and do not worry if you do not hear from me for a time.

Your loving son, Michael"

Tears swam in Kassidy's eyes, and Arrian ran to her and took her in her arms. "He's all right, Mother, Father's alive! Soon they will both be home."

"Yes," Kassidy said, her voice trembling with emotion. "Soon they will be home." She moved to the window and pulled aside the draperies, watching the snow drift earthward. "But they will not be home for Christmas."

"Then perhaps for the New Year."

"There is something different about your brother, I can feel it in his words."

"What is different?" Arrian asked puzzled. "And how can you tell that from a letter?"

"I don't know. It's as if he were another person."

Arrian took her mother's hand. "Come, dearest, let us dress warmly and go for a ride. Perhaps we can stop at the church and say a prayer for Father and Michael."

"Yes," Kassidy said in desperation. "Let us do that now." She looked at her daughter, who had been her strength through this ordeal. "I shall also give thanks that I have you, Arrian." She looked at her son-in-law. "And you, Warrick—what would I have done without you?"

* * *

Michael lay prone on a sand dune that gave him a view of the camp where Mallory was being held prisoner. He raised the spyglass to his eyes and scanned the area. "How many did you say there were guarding her?" he asked, glancing at Khaldun.

"Three."

"I see only two. And there is no sign of Mallory."

Khaldun pointed to the small black tent. "I believe she will be within that shelter."

Michael glanced toward the sun that was just going down, and it looked as if the desert sky was on fire. "We should hit them just before morning. There will be only a half-moon tonight, and our black robes will help us blend into the darkness."

Khaldun smiled. "You are thinking more and more like an Arab every day. How will you function when you return to London?"

"I've wondered that myself. I am not the same man I was when I came to Egypt."

"I have noticed this also, my friend. You have a strength and courage that will never leave you. They were always a part of you. You just never had need of them before."

Mallory huddled near the far wall of the tent, watching the two men roll out their blankets upon the sand. She trembled to think what was in their minds when they looked at her with leering smiles.

Each day it grew harder and harder to climb into the saddle. Her wrists were rubbed raw from the ropes that bound her, and her garments were nothing more than filthy rags. Her hair was hopelessly matted, and she doubted any amount of brushing would remove the tangles. She closed her eyes, thinking how luxurious a bath would feel.

If only she could sleep, for in sleep there was forgetful-ness. But the misery of her situation robbed her of rest. At last, she did drift off, but by then it was almost morning.

She was jarred from a deep sleep by a bloodcurdling yell. Had she dreamed it? Surely nothing human could make such a sound. She scrambled to her knees, trying to see into darkness. She heard the men stirring and murmuring among themselves. It was apparent they were as puzzled by the disturbance as she was.

As much as she feared her captors, she feared the unknown more. She huddled in the darkness while Sidi's men grabbed up their rifles and faded into the shadows.

She could hear gunfire, cries of pain, and then silence. Trembling, she waited, too frightened to move. At last a dark figure entered the tent, and she clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out.

"Lady Mallory, are you here?"

She recognized Lord Michael's voice. "Oh, thank God you came. They said you would, but I didn't believe them."

Michael felt her brush against his body, and he led her out of the tent. He quickly cut the ropes from her wrists. It was too dark to see her face, but he knew she must have lived through hell.

"Come," he said, leading her to a horse. He felt her tremble and then stumble, too weak to walk. Lifting her in his arms, he put. her on his horse and climbed on behind her.

Hakeem gripped the arm of the man he'd caught trying to sneak away. The prisoner's eyes rolled in fright. "Who are you?" he asked.

Hakeem smiled as he played on the man's fear. "Better you should ask who found you, even in the desert." He swung the man around to face Michael, who was more concerned with Mallory than Hakeem's captive. "That, you dung heap, is the green-eyed scorpion. Go tell your master that he will soon be coming after him."

"He is a devil!" the man cried. "How could he find us?"

"The desert speaks to him." Hakeem shoved the man to the ground, tossed him a waterskin and ordered him to remove his boots. "You are but one day's walk to the lair of the devil—go and warn him that his time on this earth is over if he does not release the Inglizi."