The Golden Barbarian (25 page)

She hadn’t stopped since dawn.

Galen paused in the entrance of Hakim’s tent and watched moodily as Tess moved swiftly across the clearing with Viane, talking brightly, gesturing almost feverishly. She had been gone when he awakened, and he had only caught glimpses of her for the greater part of the morning. She had been a whirlwind of energy, trailing behind Viane, helping to supervise the erecting and furnishing of the tents, and the setting up of the refreshment tables. He had even seen her frowning seriously as she tasted stew from one of the kettles simmering over the wood fires.

Cooking, for Lord’s sake. Tess hated the humdrum
details of even supervising the kitchens at the palace. He knew very well that something was amiss when she lingered over a cooking pot. But what was wrong, dammit?

She had changed, grown evasive and cool. Yet coolness was foreign to her nature, and no one was more blunt than Tess. Last night when she had turned away from him, he had felt angered and betrayed, as if her withdrawal had robbed him of something precious.

Pleasure. She had robbed him of the pleasure of her body. She had made a bargain, and had no right to cheat him. This rawness he felt was not hurt but frustration, because he had become accustomed to her body and no one else could satisfy him. He should have told her that he would not tolerate her spurning him as she had done last night. He should have forced her to give him what—

“Is something wrong?”

He had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t heard Kalim’s approach. “What could be wrong? Every sheikh of the nine tribes has arrived, and they’re even listening to me.”

“You were frowning.” Kalim shrugged. “I came to tell you that we’ve received a message from one of the hill tribes.”

Galen stiffened. “Tamar?”

Kalim shook his head. “Tamar seems to have vanished into the air since he rode out. No, the word was about Sacha Rubinoff. He was sighted a half day’s journey from here.”

“Sacha.” This news was probably not good if Sacha had chosen to leave the court and come back to Sedikhan, but still feelings of warmth surged through him. He had missed the dry humor of his old friend. “Send an escort to meet him. I doubt if Tamar has truly vanished.”

“I’ve already dispatched an escort.” Kalim smiled. “I’m not a fool, Galen.”

“No.” His gaze went back to Tess. He was the fool, watching his wife like a lovesick swain when his mind should be on important matters. “I’ll be with Lomed and Hakim for the rest of the afternoon. Let me know when Sacha arrives.”

“Shall I bring him to you?”

“No.” He glanced back at Tess. “Send him to the
majira.”
Perhaps Tess would confide to Sacha how he had offended her. Lord knew, he couldn’t take much more of this without exploding.

The irony of the thought made him smile sardonically. He had waited patiently for almost twenty years for his dream of a united Sedikhan to come into flower, but one night of rejection from a small red-haired woman had him clenching his teeth and ready to rape her. “Tell him to come to my tent this evening for supper, and we’ll talk.”

“Sacha!”

Tess rushed across Viane’s tent and hurled herself into Sacha’s arms, then hastily backed away, wrinkling her nose. “Sweet heaven, but you stink of sweat and horse.”

“Insults!” He drew back in mock hurt. “I rush
to your side because Kalim told me you’d be devastated if I failed to let you greet me, and you offer me only insults.”

“I could have waited until you had bathed. Never mind, I’ll hold my breath.” She went back into his arms and hugged him affectionately. “What news?”

“Not good.” Sacha’s smile faded. “The Mother Superior wrote your father a letter inquiring if your journey had gone well and if Captain Braxgan had proved trustworthy.”

Tess’s eyes widened. “Not good indeed.”

“It may not be so bad, imp.” Sacha touched her nose with his index finger. “Your father was going to set off the day after I left to find the captain and question him. Perhaps the good captain may have set sail from Diran.”

“Or he may not.” She nibbled at her lower lip. “My father doesn’t know you’re involved?”

“Not yet.”

“He suspected nothing when you left hurriedly?”

“My august father and brother were about to go on a fishing expedition on the Zandar River, and I told your father I was joining them.” He pulled a face. “The excuse was a trifle flimsy considering my feelings for their royal absurdities, but it served.”

“Not for long. Diran has few inns, and you would be easily remembered.” She frowned. “And Galen is even more memorable.”

“Denigration again,” Sacha said mournfully. “Only to you, brat.”

“Sorry.” Her tone was abstracted. “My father’s not stupid. He’ll ask questions in Diran and find out about the marriage and be on his way to Zalandan in—” She stopped, trying to estimate. “How long do we have?”

Sacha ceased trying to comfort and told her the truth. “A week. Perhaps less.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “I was afraid he was on your heels. It may be enough. The
carobel
race is run tomorrow morning, and the final council meeting follows. Galen could have his union of the tribes before my father arrives.”

“Events have progressed amazingly since I left Sedikhan. What was the impetus?”

“Tamar.”

Sacha nodded. “Every tribe we passed had news of his raids.” He turned and moved toward the entrance of the tent. “Well, as you so rudely suggested, I must bathe and change before I sup with Galen. You’ll be there?”

“No.”

He turned to look at her in surprise.

She smiled with an effort. “I still have much to do. I’ll sup with Viane and perhaps join you later.”

He studied her thoughtfully for a minute before he shrugged. “As you like.” He paused. “How is Viane?”

“Well.” She frowned. “But it’s just as well you’ve returned. Kalim has proved much too obliging with the pigeons.”

“I suppose that remark has deep significance,
but I don’t think I’ll take the trouble to fathom it.” He opened the flap of the tent. “Kalim is riding in the
carobel
?”

“Yes.” Tess frowned. “Are you?”

“Probably, it usually proves amusing.”

“Amusing? Just exactly what is this
carobel
race?”

He raised his brows. “You don’t know?”

“I’ve been more concerned with the festival itself. Galen said only it was a race of some sort.”

“A very special race. The course is laid out over six miles of desert and rough hill country.”

“Jumps?”

He nodded. “Five. That’s where most of the
carobels
are shattered.”

“What?”

“A
carobel
is a two-foot pottery jar that’s filled with heavily perfumed water, corked, and strapped on each rider’s back. The pottery is paper thin, and only the best riders have a good enough seat to return to the encampment without breaking their jars and drenching themselves with the perfume.”

“What a challenge.” Tess’s face was suddenly alight with eagerness. “It must be very interesting.”

Sacha’s smile faded. “It’s not for you, Tess.”

“I didn’t say I wished to race. I only said it was interesting.”

Sacha gazed at her skeptically. “The other riders would be outraged if a woman rode in the race.”

She lifted her chin. “But I wager I could best
them. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad for them to know a woman could ride as well as they.”

“You’re the
majira
of El Zalan. It would throw the shiekhs into a turmoil and possibly disrupt the council.”

Her eagerness was submerged in disappointment. “True.” She shrugged. “I was only thinking anyway. I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

Sacha breathed a sigh of relief as he turned to leave. “Second thoughts are always best.”

Tess asked dryly, “How would you know?”

His eyes twinkled as he glanced over his shoulder. “Not from experience. I stumbled across that truth in one of the boring tomes my tutor once made me read.”

Sacha was gone when Tess returned to the tent late that night, but the lantern was still lit. Fully dressed, Galen sat on the divan.

Tess braced herself when he glanced up from a stack of papers on the low table before him. His face was expressionless. “I was wondering if you intended to come back at all tonight.”

“I would not cause you such embarrassment.” Tess moved across the tent toward him. “Sacha told you about my father?”

Galen nodded. “It doesn’t matter. By the time he arrives, I’ll either have a united Sedikhan with which to intimidate him, or—”

“Or?”

“Or we’ll have disintegrated into a pack of ravening wolves.” He smiled grimly. “Either way,
he’ll not find the prospect pleasant for him here in Sedikhan.”

She glanced away from him. “You won’t give me up to him?”

“I promised you that you’d not have to go back to him. How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not like your father?”

“I thought … if Sedikhan is united, isn’t my part over?”

“It’s over when I say it’s over.”

“You think you’ll still have need of me?”

He looked down at the papers before him. “We have a bargain. You promised me a child, and I won’t be cheated.”

She didn’t have to leave him yet. The relief she felt was frightening in its intensity. She turned hurriedly away and moved toward the curtained alcove. “You won’t need a child now.”

“I’ll decide what I need.” A hint of ferocity tinged Galen’s voice. “And what I’ll take.”

Raw anger and frustration vibrated in the tent, and for the first time Tess became conscious of the air of suppressed violence surrounding Galen. “You won’t take anything that—”

A scream tore through the night!

Tess went rigid.

Another scream. A woman’s scream of agony.

“Stay here.” Galen was on his feet, running toward the entrance of the tent.

She was supposed to stay and listen to that poor woman screaming?

Dear God, what if it was Viane?

Galen was already several yards away when Tess reached the entrance of the tent.

Another scream.

Half-dressed men streamed out of the tents, lanterns were being lit.

Tess darted across the clearing toward Viane’s tent.

“Tess, what is it?” Viane, her maid at her elbow, held back the tent flap. “That scream …”

“I don’t know.”

However, Galen seemed to know. He was striding through the tents toward the north end of the encampment.

Tess hurried after him. They were now passing through the area of the El Kabbar, but no one was coming out of these tents.

Another scream … closer.

She rounded the corner and almost ran into Galen, who had stopped and was standing watching something occurring before Hakim’s tent. “What’s happening?”

Galen didn’t look at her. “I told you not to come.”

A slight black-gowned figure was kneeling in the clearing. The woman was still fully veiled, but her back was bare, the flesh striped with livid weals and bleeding cuts. Hakim stood over her a bloodstained whip in his hand. As Tess watched. he lifted the whip to strike again.

“No!” Tess started toward them.

Galen grabbed Tess’s wrist and jerked her to a stop. “Don’t interfere.”

“Don’t you see? She can’t—”

“Galen.” Hakim looked up and scowled. “I suppose my wife’s screams woke you. I apologize for disturbing you, but the girl’s not only clumsy, she has no courage.” He shrugged. “She’s only thirteen. I suppose she has time to learn.”

Galen didn’t look at the kneeling girl. “We all need our rest if we’re to perform well in the
carobel
. Perhaps her punishment could be postponed until after the race?”

Hakim shook his shaggy white head. “She shattered my favorite
carobel
, and has three more lashes to bear. Women must be punished at the time of the offense if it is to be effective. They’re like hounds or horses, too stupid to remember for long.” His gaze moved to Tess. “Pay heed to my words and actions, and you may yet make a true woman of that one.”

Fury soared through Tess, and she took a half-step forward. “If you didn’t beat them, perhaps fear wouldn’t make them so clumsy that—”

“Silence.” Galen’s hand clamped over Tess’s mouth.

She started to struggle, but he lifted her and slung her over his shoulder and started back through the encampment.

“That’s right!” Hakim called after them. “Well done, Galen. Never let them speak without your permission.”

Tess pounded on Galen’s back. “Let me down!”

She heard Hakim’s voice fading away as they neared the El Zalan section of the encampment.
“Don’t worry, there will be no more disturbance, Galen. I will gag her.”

Galen didn’t let Tess down until he had entered their tent. He dumped her on the divan and then strode back across the tent and tied the flaps closed.

Tess jumped to her feet and ran toward the entrance.

“No!” Galen turned to face her. “Try to leave and I’ll tie you up until morning.” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Listen to me, if you interfere, I’ll be forced to punish you as Hakim’s punishing that poor child. He would consider it an insult, and retribution would be the only action he’d understand.”

“With a whip?”

“Better at my hands than Hakim’s. I can’t afford a disruption now.”

“He’s a beast, an animal.” Her voice was shaking with anger. “Dear Lord, over a
pottery
jar!”

“Hakim’s very proud of his horsemanship and performance in the
carobels.”

“You defend him?”

“No, I’m merely explaining that a
carobel
is more than a pottery jar.”

“You could have stopped him.”

“If I’d wanted to destroy my hopes for unity. I need Hakim to influence the desert tribes.”

“You told me once your people didn’t beat their women.”

“I was speaking of the El Zalan. Hakim’s tribe has other customs, other laws.”

“And you can do nothing?”

“Not without unity, not until we have common laws.”

“So women will be beaten and stepped on like animals until then?”

“Do you think I enjoyed seeing that girl hurt?” Galen asked fiercely. “Do you know how many times I’ve seen it and been able to do nothing?” He paused, struggling for control. “And I won’t lie to you. Even after union it may take years to change the laws regarding the treatment of women. I can’t change in a day what’s been going on for centuries.”