No Brighter Dream: The Pascal Trilogy - Book 3 (8 page)

Ali swallowed hard. “Then do you understand why I had to cut my hair and take boy’s clothing to wear? I would have been in even graver danger if I had tried to come all this distance as an unprotected female. Do you see? Please, oh, please try?”

“Yes, of course I do,” he said.

“Really? But Handray does not, not at all.” She looked at him imploringly, forcing herself to ask the question foremost on her mind. “Oh, Jojan, what is to become of me? He would not talk to me at all, he was so angry.”

“Yes. But what else would you expect, Ali? You put him in a terrible position.”

“I—I know. But I never thought Hadgi would suddenly appear like that. He has never come this far north before.”

“That is neither here nor there. Ah, Ali. Can you not see? There are many things you must consider. All these months Andre thought nothing of your sleeping in his tent, of letting you attend to his personal needs…” He trailed off.

Ali was amazed to see Joseph-Jean’s color heighten. “Do your people not let females do these things?” she asked.

“Our people let females do these things for other females. Men have manservants.”

“Bah,” Ali said. “How silly. In my village we do whatever is necessary for our family. The men come home tired from the fields, and the women have their baths ready and the oils, and—”

“But Andre is not a member of your family, Ali,” Joseph-Jean pointed out. “He is your master.”

“Even more reason that I should serve him,” Ali said stubbornly. “If he is angry that I have seen him unclothed, I shall just tell him—”

“No!”
Joseph-Jean said with alarm. “I think you would be wise to stay well away from that subject.”

A tiny smile crept onto Ali’s face. “He would be embarrassed?”

“He would be extremely annoyed, and you have enough trouble as it is.”

Ali nodded thoughtfully. “Yes. You are right. It is bad enough that Handray doesn’t like females to begin with.”

Joseph-Jean rubbed the side of his mouth. “Ali,” he said carefully. “There is something you need to understand. It isn’t that Andre doesn’t like females. It is just that he prefers the company of men.”

“Ohhhh,” Ali said, her eyes growing wide. “It is like that with him? No wonder he does not like me to speak of his taking a wife.”

Joseph-Jean was silent for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the ground. Then he rubbed his temples hard and looked up at her. “No … no, Ali, I didn’t mean it like that. The reason that Andre doesn’t like for you to speak of his taking a wife is because once he nearly married, but his fiancée died shortly before they could be wed. Her death hurt him very deeply.”

Ali clapped her hands together with glee. “I knew it! It is just what I told Umar!”

“It’s just what you told—oh, God help us all,” Joseph-Jean said, covering his eyes with his hand.

“You must not blaspheme,” Ali said automatically. “Yes, I thought it must be something like that.”

“But why did you feel the need to tell Umar anything at all?”

“Because the villagers were curious about why a strong handsome lord did not have many wives, let alone one. I had to think of something to preserve Handray’s status, so I said he mourned a beloved wife.”

“Well, do me a huge favor. Please do
not
bring it up to Andre.”

“I promise. But surely she was not a dead fish?”

“I beg your pardon?” Joseph-Jean rubbed his temples again. “What on earth do you mean by that?”

“Handray says all Englishwomen are like dead fish,” Ali explained.

“Ah,” Joseph-Jean said. “You mean a cold fish. It’s an expression that means someone is stiff, unemotional, lacking in passion. No, she wasn’t like that at all.”

“Oh,” Ali said. “Then she was Turkish?” she asked hopefully.

“Genevieve was French, a girl from our village, very sweet, very pretty, with hair the color of com silk, and eyes the color of the sky,” he said softly. “She was like a moonbeam, fragile, the sort of person you wanted to protect, as if the world were too harsh a place for her.”

“She sounds like a fairy-child in one of Handray’s stories,” Ali said wistfully, wondering what it would be like to be all golden and fragile, to be loved by Andre.

“A fairy-child? Yes, I suppose she was a little like that. She and Andre loved each other from the time they were very young
— why
am I telling you this?”

“I do not know,” Ali said, sighing happily, “but I am glad someone is finally telling me what has made Handray so unhappy. Do not worry, Jojan. I will not speak of it. I have given you my word.”

“Thank you,” he said with real relief. “Because Andre would not thank either of us, believe me.”

Ali bit her bottom lip contemplatively. “I think,” she said after a moment, “that he is happier than he was. What do you think?”

Joseph-Jean reached across the table and took her hand, squeezing it. “I believe you’re right. And if it helps, I think you’ve had something to do with that.”

She beamed. “I think so too,” she said. “I have worked very hard to make it so. When I first met him, Handray had forgotten about living life. Now he remembers a little more, although he is very stubborn about it.”

“Yes. Yes, he’s a stubborn, determined man, it’s true. When he makes up his mind about something it’s nearly impossible to change it.”

“That is what I fear,” Ali said, her face clouding over again. “But I shall have to be brave. Thank you for understanding—I have always thought you a very kind man. And I know that you love Handray too.”

“Yes,” Joseph-Jean said quietly, “I do. He is like a brother to me.”

Ali nodded. “It is good. Come, Jojan. We should see to the horses and the supplies. It does not do to let either sit out in the sun.”

Ali huddled against the rock face in a miserable ball, her arms crossed against her chest. Handray hadn’t returned for dinner, which meant he was so angry he couldn’t even eat. It was hard to be brave in the face of such a silent, distant rage. At least Hadgi had beaten her and then it was over with until the next time. This in its own way was far more terrifying.

The moon waxed nearly full and the air hung very still with little breeze. Light from the lantern shimmered from inside his tent. She supposed he was in there reading. She’d probably never be allowed inside again. Ali put her face in her hands, despair overcoming her.

“Oh, Handray,” she sobbed, her entire body shaking with grief. “I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. And now you will hate me forever and ever.”

“Perhaps not forever and ever.”

Ali’s head snapped up in alarm. He stood looking down at her, and his face wasn’t the thundercloud it had been before.

“Handray! Oh, Handray … I thought you would cut me up into hundreds of pieces and feed me to the lions,” she cried. “And I would deserve it, I know that I would.”

“As I said to you earlier, I hate to waste money.”

“But why—why did you bother to buy me even after you knew the truth?”

“Why do you think, Ali?” Andre dropped down next to her and wiped her streaming face with his handkerchief. “Here. Blow your nose.”

She did, resoundingly. “I thought that maybe it was because you once saved my life and did not want to waste that, either.”

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice gentle. “I paid your uncle the money because it was the only way to be rid of him. He would have been within his rights to take you away, and he would have either beaten you to death, or been paid handsomely for someone else eventually to do it. Do you think I would let that happen to you?”

“But I am only a girl,” she said, staring down at the ground.

“Yes, I know,” he replied with the glimmer of a smile. “But I can’t suddenly stop liking you because you turned into a female, can I? I confess I’m extremely annoyed about it, and it’s very inconvenient, but there we are.”

“Then why were you so angry with me?”

“Because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. It came as quite a shock to hear it in the middle of the market, in front of a crowd of people, from a relative you weren’t supposed to have.” He regarded her intently. “Can you understand that?”

“Yes,” she said, sniffling. “It hurt your pride.”

Andre thought about that. “Yes, I suppose it did. It also scared the devil out of me. I had no idea what might happen, or what other surprises might be in store. I would have much preferred to be prepared.”

“But if I had told you in the beginning, you would have sent me away. And then what would have become of me?”

Andre sighed and ran a finger over the dry earth. “I honestly don’t know what I would have done. I don’t even know what to do now, Ali.”

Her heart lurched. “Oh—but I belong to you,” she said quickly. “You cannot send me away! You paid much money for me.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You are not thinking about selling me to someone else, are you?”

“No, of course not, although I ought to, just to teach you a lesson. But right now, you and I need to have a talk.” He settled himself on the ground in front of her and rested his arms on his knees. “Ali. What your uncle said. Was it the truth?”

“About the bride-price? No. I told you how it was. Hadgi was going to sell me.” She hunched a shoulder miserably. “He did not want to keep me any longer.”

“Yes, I know. Jo-Jean has already told me the full story. But I meant about the other things, about how you came to the village. Today Hadgi called you an infidel, an odd thing to say since you’re always spouting off about Allah.”

“I do not know why I am an infidel. Maybe Hadgi just made that up. He hates infidels and he hates me and the two go together in his mind.”

“Maybe,” Andre said, not looking very convinced. “But he also said you weren’t Turkish. And yet you look Turkish enough to me with your dark hair and eyes.”

“Do you suppose I am one of those awful Syrians?” she asked. “Oh, I do hope not. I would never stab anyone in the back, I swear it, Handray.”

Andre frowned. “Do you mean to tell me that you really don’t know where you come from originally?”

Ali shook her head. “I have no idea. I only know I am from the outside.”

He took one of her slim hands and looked down at it. “I don’t know why I never noticed before. You have such small bones. How old are you, Ali? Eleven? Twelve?”

“Older, though I do not know by how much.”

“Well then, how long were you in the village?” he asked, turning her hand over and running his thumb over her palm as if he might find an answer there.

“I was in the village for ten years, and when I arrived I was not a baby, although I had not yet lost my first tooth. But you cannot count from that, either, since I did not do anything else as early as the other girls either.” Ali blushed beet-red when she realized what she’d said, but Andre was unperturbed.

“Have you started your monthly bleeding yet?” he asked.

“Handray…” Ali said uncertainly. “I do not know if we should speak of such things.”

“Oh, it’s all right for you to strip me naked and pummel me on a regular basis, but not acceptable for me to ask you a perfectly logical question?”

Ali looked at him sideways. “Jojan said I was not to mention seeing you without your clothes on, that you would be annoyed.”

“Did he?” Andre said with a grin. “He must think I have delicate sensibilities. I’m afraid that it doesn’t bother me in the least. Nor does discussing your monthly courses. So? Have they started?”

“Yes,” Ali replied, looking him straight in the eye, determined not to behave like a silly female. “Last year.”

“Hmm,” he said. “Well, you certainly haven’t developed in any other way.”

“I have too!” Ali said indignantly, forgetting for a moment that she hated being female. “You just never noticed.”

“Begging your most humble pardon, but there hasn’t been anything to notice,” Andre said. “I’m not
that
unobservant.”

Ali thwacked his arm. “I am just skinny,” she said. “You wait and see, one day I will impress you with my magnificent breasts.”

“Oh, really?” Andre said with a laugh. “Well, we shall see about that. In the meantime, I don’t think you can be above thirteen or so.” He idly picked up a small rock from the ground and toyed with it. “Which brings me back to the original question. What do you remember, if anything, about your arrival in your village? Could you understand the language?”

“I think so…” she said, straining to remember. “It was so long ago.”

Andre rubbed his eyebrow. “Unfortunately, none of this is much to go on. I don’t suppose … no, never mind. This is probably too difficult for you.”

“What, Handray?” she asked anxiously. “I will try to remember, I will.”

He nodded. “All right. Do you happen to remember your father’s name?”

“Oh, yes,” Ali said, brightening. “His name was Pappah.”

Andre dropped the stone.
“Papa?”
he repeated. “Are you sure?” He looked hard at her. “That isn’t a name that maybe you heard somewhere else, from Jo-Jean, perhaps?”

She shook her head. “No. It is the only thing I really do remember. I—I remember crying out for him, over and over again. But he could not come.” The shadow of those half-remembered but terrifying days alone in the little cave hovered dark in her mind. She shivered and looked away.

“Ali,” Andre said softly, cupping her small chin in his large hand. He turned her face toward his. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. It must have been a very dreadful time for you. But let me help you? Let me do what I can to make it better.”

Ali met his eyes, those lovely gray eyes that reflected genuine concern. She touched his hand, curling her fingers into it. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for caring.”

“Of course I care,” he said, lightly brushing her hair off her forehead with his fingers. “Now let’s get back to business. You say you called your father ‘Papa.’ Do you remember anything else about him, anything at all?”

Ali strained. She had imagined all sorts of things, but the real image of her father was lost in the mists of time. “No,” she said sadly. “I wish I did. I only know he loved me.”

“I’m sure he did, very much. It’s a pity he didn’t leave you anything to remember him by, but I suppose the Turkomen took it all.”