Read Sandstorm Online

Authors: Megan Derr

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Gay, #General

Sandstorm (38 page)

BOOK: Sandstorm
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"That sounds interesting," Valerie replied, and Ikram realized she meant it. "My…I used to know some politicians, and they only ever groused about their work, but I always thought it must be fascinating to know all the inner workings of a government. That probably sounds naïve," she ducked her head, fingers nervously tracing the rim of her wine dish, "for I realize it’s not always a pleasant thing, the running of a country, but I thought it must be fascinating all the same."

"It is," Ikram said, barely catching himself before he reached out to take her hands in his own, offer comfort, assure her she wasn’t as idiotic as she clearly thought herself. "All the details that go into it, to see how much must be done, how it is done…I like it a great deal. I would never have stayed in the palace if I did not."

Valerie looked up and smiled at him, and this one was the prettiest, sweetest smile he’d ever seen. Was he staring again? Ikram shook himself and smiled back. "So you live here all alone?"

The smile vanished. "I—yes."

Ikram dropped that line of questioning. "So what do you do when not being harassed in the market?"

"I mostly stay close to home," Valerie said, relaxing visibly – though sadly the smile did not return. "It seems the chores are never done." A weak smile.

"Yes, it does rather seem like the more work you do, the more there is to be done." Ikram laughed briefly. "No doubt in my absence, my paperwork continues to multiply. I rather fear what I will find waiting for me upon my return."

Valerie laughed. "Yes, I can only imagine what chores will be waiting for me despite the fact that I took care of them all before going to market. I—" whatever she was going to say, Ikram never knew, as the bells outside chimed the fourth hour and Valerie’s eyes widened in panic.

"Oh! I must go." She dropped the sweet she’d shyly reached out to take and stood up, wrap going up to cover her beautiful hair. "I’m so sorry—I—" She looked at him, obviously distraught, then with another whispered apology turned and fled.

Ikram started to call out, then sat back with a sigh.

This was one of those times he truly missed the Desert. Were he there, he could simply scoop her up and ride back to camp and take her to his tent. His sword and markings would have handled any protests.

Here, he had to be civilized and let the jewel get away.

Tavamara, as much as he loved it, had a lot of nerve calling the children of the Sand the wild savages. At least savages knew when to keep something and did not hesitate to do so.

He ignored the pain that said they knew when to toss out useless things as well.

Would he ever see Valerie again? Doubtful. Whatever had her fleeing was obviously the focal point of her life. It made him jealous, which was ridiculous. Shaking his head at himself, Ikram finished his wine and stood up, tossing a few coins on the table before striding back out into the crowded city.

*~*~*~*

Ikram tried to be in a foul mood about having to attend the market again, for he detested having to go more often than strictly necessary – usually only once a month or two – but when he remembered the reason he was back only a few days later, he could only sigh.

In exasperation, because even as he searched for the stall he wanted he was looking in vain for dark-ruby hair and brilliant green eyes. There was little chance he’d see her again, and after letting her so easily get away he wasn’t certain he deserved to see her again.

A man could hope, however. Lady grant him the gift of seeing her just one more time, he would not be stupid enough to let her get away again.

Rolling his eyes, wondering for the millionth time what was so wrong with him, Ikram at last alighted on the stall he wanted and began to slowly make his way toward it. The trick was to look at everything else first, feign disinterest, act as though he came upon it simply by chance.

At last he reached the stall he wanted and began to pick through what was available. There were several stalls in the market that sold spices, but after quietly asking around he had learned this one had the best quality and selection.

One of the things he missed, even after seven years, was the smell of the Desert. There was an edge to it that the tame Tavamara would never have.

The closest he could get to what he wanted was the incense his Tribe had used for ceremonies and celebrations – no doubt including when they’d stricken his name from the Tribe.

However, even in this market it was hard to find – and the few places he had found it, the incense was of poor quality. This stall was only his latest effort, but the merchant had a good reputation.

Ikram frowned over the table, ignoring the way the merchant began to loom over him – they always knew when money was looking, no matter how innocuously he dressed. After several minutes, he motioned the man forward and pointed to several selections, hiding the fact that he only wanted the most expensive one on the table. Buying several would gain him a bargain, and those he didn’t actually want would amuse the Prince.

Several minutes later, Ikram smiled and bowed his head politely to the merchant who looked less than pleased with how the bargaining had gone. Tucking his purchases carefully inside his robes, he turned away and began to make his way through the crowds and back to the palace.

Halfway through, he got fed up with the crowds and ducked out of it and into the back alleys of the city. It was early evening, the heat beginning to give way to cool, and whereas the market was still quite crowded, here the streets were deserted, people preferring to stay inside.

A scream of fear and outrage shattered the quiet, and Ikram felt a cold chill as he realized the voice was familiar. Surely not? He didn’t waste time thinking about it however, but ran toward the source, finding it in the corner of a small alleyway – no doubt a shortcut between streets.

Three men were harassing a woman with familiar dark-ruby hair.

Ikram barely remembered moving. Nothing was terribly clear to him until two men were unconscious and the ringleader was pinned to a wall. "There are a great many painful things I could do to you, soft little city boy. Tell me why I shouldn’t do them."

The man snarled insults, but was careful not to do more than that, wary of the blade pressed to his throat.

"I knew how to kill men by the time I was fifteen," Ikram said contemptuously. "By seventeen I had killed them." He let the man go. "Make certain I do not see your face again, softy city boy."

The man sneered as he stood up, gingerly touching his throat. "You look fancier than me, palace boy. All talk, I think." He lunged, steel glinting.

Ikram laughed and caught him by the wrist, snapping it neatly before throwing the man to the ground. "Get out of here before I break the other."

"Bastard!"

Laughing again, Ikram knelt and hauled the man up, ignoring his screams of pain. "I’m no bastard – but I am rather savage, if you’re smart enough to catch my meaning." He could see by the way the man’s eyes widened that he did. "Go."

This time the man went, his unconscious companions seemingly forgotten.

Ikram turned to Valerie, who was still huddled in the corner. "Are you all right?" he asked, drawing close – anger rekindling as he saw the state of her robes, torn and completely ruined. "Did they hurt you?"

"No," Valerie said, hand trembling slightly as she lifted it to smooth back her hair. She looked at him, then dropped her eyes. "Thank you." Slowly she knelt to retrieve a basket and the scattered items that had tumbled from it – bread, cheese, several bundles that were no doubt meat, spices, other basic foodstuffs.

Ikram frowned. "Are you certain?" Perhaps he was the one who was now upsetting her. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had been upset by his ‘savage’ ways.

"Quite certain," Valerie said at last, those green, green eyes finally lifting to his. She smiled faintly, and Ikram noticed for the first time that her face was flushed. "Simply rather embarrassed that twice now you’ve had to rescue me. I dislike appearing weak, especially in front of someone with as much strength as you."

"Lady," Ikram said, "I know men back home who would cower in the marketplace and no woman is weak for being unable to best three men twice her size." He smiled. "Though I admit I had hoped that should I encounter you again, it would be under happier circumstances."

Valerie smiled, the last of the anxiety in her eyes fading. "I apologize, my Lord, for running as I did before. I fear my panic got the better of me."

"You said from the start you could not stay long; I got what I deserve for trying to keep you overlong." Ikram shrugged out of his robe and offered it to her. "Until you get home, my Lady."

Clearly she was about to refuse the gesture. Ikram shoved it into her hands before she could, and at last she nodded, pulling the over-large robe on and giving a shy but grateful smile.

"Thank you, my Lord." Her eyes widened. "Oh, my," she breathed.

Ikram blinked and followed her gaze – then recalled that without his robe, only in vest and pants, the tattoos on his arms were bared.

As he’d been twenty-four when he’d left the Cobra Tribe, he’d had plenty of years to work on his tattoo. The snake skin pattern ran the length of his arms, from wrists up to and across his shoulders, the two halves coming together to trail down his back and chest. Had he stayed with the Tribe, eventually it would have covered his entire body.

He almost winced, thinking of the looks he would get both on his way back to the palace and once he was back in the palace. Ah, well. It was far more important Valerie not go through town with her robes in such poor condition. "Can I escort you home?" he asked.

Valerie shook her head. "No, I do not live far from here – and from now on I will not take this shortcut."

"Do you suppose if we arrange our next meeting, we might avoid catastrophe?" Ikram asked, praying to the Lady that this lady would not turn him down.

"I…yes, I think so," Valerie said. "Have you a location in mind, my lord?"

Ikram barely kept himself from cheering – then he realized he hadn’t actually thought as far as location. He scrambled for a suitable location. "The public gardens? We can meet there say about this time, and perhaps go to dinner?"

"That sounds lovely," Valerie said with another of those dazzling sweet smiles, and Ikram thought strangely that she seemed sort of surprised. "Tomorrow evening at the entrance to the public gardens." She bowed. "And thank you for rescuing me, my lord."

"An honor to assist you, my lady. I hope the Lady guards your steps on your way home." He cut himself off before he could thoroughly confuse her with a greeting he had not used in years. Something about her woke all his old habits, and he wasn’t sure why. Bowing low, he turned and left before he wound up doing something stupid.

*~*~*~*

"My lady," Ikram greeted, holding her hands briefly, "You look more beautiful than ever."

Valerie’s pale cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. "My lord."

Ikram realized he was probably always going to be caught staring where she was concerned.

She really was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, especially those green eyes. Her dress was a darker shade than her eyes, making them more stunning than ever, with simple beadwork all along the edges and throat – glass beads, likely, though he burned to put her in jewels. Her hair, sadly, was braided and then twisted up. Pretty, but he wished she’d left it down. "Are you up for a walk before we dine?"

"I would love to," Valerie answered, neatly folding her wrap around her shoulders before accepting his arm.

"Is there a particular flower you enjoy?" Ikram asked.

Valerie smiled wistfully. "I used to love orchids. My mother had a small orchid garden before she passed away. I’m afraid I was unable to maintain it after she passed on and I had to move to the city."

Ikram nodded. "The palace has quite a collection. Perhaps you can come and see them sometime."

"Perhaps," Valerie murmured, and Ikram knew she was just being polite, not believing for a moment that she’d ever go to the palace.

She’d learn differently. If no one else in Tavamara had been smart enough to stake a claim on this jewel, he wasn’t going to be stupid enough to give them a second try. He’d helped her twice, by sheer chance happening to be in the area. The Lady did not need to tell him three times.

"Where I grew up, the vegetation is quite different. If there is any vegetation at all."

"Yes," Valerie said, face filled with curiosity. "I…it was quite clear yesterday that you had an…interesting upbringing. You called yourself a savage…that means you are from the Desert? It is not something I’ve heard much about…"

Ikram slowed their walk further as they reached the rose gardens – the royal family had long been famous, some said infamous, for their love of plants and flowers. The King’s great grandfather has been the one to build the public gardens, to share his love of green things with his people. His descendants had maintained and added to them. He spoke as she admired the rosebushes. "Yes, I was raised in the Desert. I grew up in the Cobra Tribe, which is marked by a body tattoo made to look like snakeskin. Mine was never completed, as I left the Tribe."

"It was most impressive," Valerie replied, cheeks heating as she turned hastily away to bury her nose in a pale yellow rose.

Grinning, unable to help himself, Ikram continued speaking. "I left the Desert about seven years ago, choosing to remain here in Tavamara. My family was not happy, and I miss them, but I find I prefer life here. Far more peaceful."

Valerie laughed. "Far more peaceful when you are not having to rescue silly redheads."

"I am sorry you were being troubled, but I’m not sorry I was your rescuer."

"Nor I," Valerie said softly to a cream-colored rose. She finally looked up at Ikram, smiling.

"You are the first truly friendly face I’ve encountered since coming here."

"If you do not mind my asking, I confess I’m curious as to what a native of Lavarre is doing making her home in Tavamara?"

Valerie looked away, smiling sadly. "I grew tired of being controlled, and the people seeking to control me also wanted to take certain things from me…I could not permit it, and so I fled. I took the first ship on its way out and wound up here."

BOOK: Sandstorm
3.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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