Desert Song (DeWinter's Song 3) (14 page)

Chapter 16

Michael rode at the head of fifty Jebeliya warriors. They passed by scrub-covered sand dunes, sighting an occasional oasis where they would rest from the heat and fill their waterskins. At night they slept beneath the stars. When they reached the hottest part of the desert, they slept during the day and traveled by night.

For four days, they moved steadily toward the coastal mountains until at last the sand dunes changed to craggy cliffs. They traveled fast, but on the homeward journey, it would take longer, because many in the wedding party would be riding camels and not the swift Arabian steeds favored by the Jebeliya.

Michael guided his horse through a deep valley, his eyes riveted on the highest point of the mountain. They rode past an abandoned monastery and into the high mountains, where the nights were cold and the days were as hot as the inside of a furnace.

By the eighth day, they encountered several riders, who welcomed them with high-pitched yells and by joyfully firing their rifles into the air. This was to be their escort to the Sawarka camp.

As they entered the camp, Michael saw groves of cypress and tamarisk trees. It was hard for him to comprehend how a race of people could survive for centuries in this isolated and hostile land. But they had more than survived, they were thriving.

As they moved on through the camp, the exuberance over their arrival mounted, and many people rushed forward to greet them with welcoming smiles. Michael saw pride on the faces of the Sawarka bedouin, a trait that he was to encounter over and over in this land.

When he dismounted, he was led to a huge black tent in the center of the encampment. He came face-to-face with a bejeweled man with a ready smile and a twinkle in his dark eyes. Michael knew this was Princess Yasmin's father.

"Welcome with honor, Akhdar 'em Akraba," Sheik Hakeem greeted him. "We have heard much about your cunning. Enter—enter, and relieve your hunger and satisfy your thirst. You have come far. Rest in my home."

When Michael entered the tent, he found to his surprise that it was larger than it appeared from outside. His feet sank into a rich Turkish rug, and there were low gilded tables and velvet cushions on which to recline.

"Sit, sit," Sheik Hakeem offered. "We will converse while we eat."

When both men were seated, Hakeem clapped his hands, and three veiled women immediately appeared through a curtained-off area, bringing food and drink. While they ate, Hakeem spoke about the glowing tales he'd heard of the green-eyed scorpion.

"I believe I should inform you that the accounts are greatly exaggerated. Every time the tale is repeated, it grows in magnitude. I can assure you I am neither a warrior nor a hero."

Hakeem waved Michael's denial away with a jeweled hand. "Are not all heroes part fantasy in the mind of less brave men? We need our heroes, Akhdar 'em Akraba." His dark eyes settled on Michael. "I know why you have come to our land. There is much talk about a great one being held by Sidi Ahmed. This is your father, is it not?"

"Yes. Do you know if he still lives?"

"It is difficult to smuggle information out of Caldoia, but it is said that the Turk, Sidi, guards his prisoner well."

Michael stared out the tent opening to the desert beyond. "I will find a way into Caldoia—this I swear."

Hakeem stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Perhaps in this I can help you. My bedouin are allowed in Caldoia if they remain only in the marketplace. Of course, they always take Sidi a gift of great value and leave the city before sunset."

Hakeem saw Michael's hopeful look, and continued, musingly. "It would be dangerous for me to smuggle you inside." When he saw Michael's face fall, he smiled and clapped Michael on the back. "You will find that my bedouin like danger. Would the green-eyed scorpion care to venture forth with my bedouin?"

This was what Michael had been waiting to hear—a way into the forbidden city. "I will consider it an honor to ride with your people. But I would not want to put men at risk."

"Risk adds spice to an otherwise dull life. I would rejoice if I could tweak Sidi's nose."

"I could go immediately after I have delivered your daughter to Prince Khaldun."

"Not so hasty, my young friend. First, preparations must be made, that will take time. Also, do you remember I mentioned we must provide Sidi with a valuable gift?" He shrugged. "I have recently married off my eldest daughter, and now my youngest is to be married. Poor father that I am, to pay bride's price for two daughters. I can hardly be expected to present a gift to Sidi as well." Michael smiled. "If you will allow, I shall provide the gift."

Hakeem's eyes sparkled. "And do I not have a gift that will widen Sidi's eyes? You must see this." He reached behind him and brought out a carved wooden box. Flipping it open, he handed it to Michael. "I will sell you this for a mere trifle."

Michael looked at the knife crafted of turquoise and silver and smiled at the cagey old fox. "How much?"

"Whatever you think is generous."

Michael laughed aloud and reached into the pouch about his waist. He counted out ten gold pieces, and Hakeem nodded in approval. "It is sufficient. Your generosity is second only to your bravery, green-eyed hero."

Michael stared at the old thief with growing respect. "And your wit is only surpassed by your cunning."

Hakeem smiled. "I have a feeling the stories about you are not all that exaggerated."

Again, Hakeem clapped his hands, and a lone veiled woman appeared from behind the curtain. She was dressed in white silk that shimmered in the lantern light.

"I was told, green-eyed one, that you are considered like a brother to Prince Khaldun."

"That is so."

"I was also told you were honored by seeing his mother unveiled."

"This also is true."

"Then behold the face of your brother's wife—behold my daughter, Yasmin." He motioned to the woman, and she dropped the veil.

Michael looked into the softest brown eyes he'd ever seen. They were so luminous he could read the innocence in their depths. Her hair was as black as midnight, and ebony braids entwined with golden ropes. Michael saw that Khaldun's fears had been groundless—Yasmin's face had not been tattooed. She was so lovely, Michael could only smile.

"My brother is a most fortunate man."

Yasmin coyly ducked her head. She had never seen an Inglizi, and she hadn't known that a man could have green eyes. "Can you tell me about my husband? It is said that he honors you above all men."

"I can tell you that Prince Khaldun is loyal, a good warrior, and an imposing prince."

"Yasmin!" her father scolded. "Do not bother our guest with your silly chatter." His words were harsh, but his eyes were soft. He hugged his daughter. "When this one goes, she takes her father's heart with her. I would give her only to a prince."

Michael thought she was indeed a bride worthy of a prince.

"Leave us now, daughter. Lord Michael and I have much to discuss."

After she had taken another quick glance at the man with the green eyes, she moved behind the curtains.

Hakeem leaned toward Michael. "How would you like to go with my men on a raid of a bedouin village that supports Sidi? The devils struck at my cousin's camp ten days ago, and they slaughtered innocent women and children."

"I would be honored to accompany you. But when?"

"We shall strike in the morning. There will be no interference in your duty to Prince Khaldun since you shall return before the wedding party departs for Kamar Ginena."

Michael nodded, knowing the old fox was testing him. "I will go with you, but only if your men do not harm women or children."

"I will instruct them not to do so, but they will take what spoils they can."

"That is acceptable."

"Excellent! You must rest now, for we leave in two hours' time."

"You do understand why I must get to Caldoia without delay?"

"I do. But it is ambitious to face the devil in his lair without being prepared. There are many of the bedouin tribes that would gladly give their lives to see him dead. He is of the Ottoman Turks, and would see all desert dwellers enslaved. He has slowly armed the warlike bedouin so they can rise against us."

"I know. It was my father's mission to discover who was inciting war. Is Sidi Ahmed the one who has been shipping guns into Egypt?"

"He is the one. He once offered us guns, but only if we would fight as his army. I refused him, as have many other tribes. Still, he gathers a large army. Those who accepted his guns are massing in numbers. I believe they will first come against those of us who have opposed him. You can see why it's dangerous for you to go into Caldoia. And you can see why we're prepared to help you."

Michael stood. "I'll bide my time until I enter Caldoia. But don't make me wait too long. If my father is there, every day must be hell for him."

"The guards at the gate look for anything and anyone suspicious," Hakeem warned. "They will surely be looking for you, green-eyed one. But enough of this, for you must rest now. I'll have my servant show you to your tent."

Michael hadn't realized how tired he was. He lay back on the soft lambskin and was soon fast asleep.

He was awakened some time later by a smiling Yanni. "The others are ready to go on the raid. They wait only for you, Lord Michael."

* * *

The Sawarka hit the enemy camp just before daybreak. The guards at the outpost had been quickly eliminated, so they were unable to raise an alarm. Hakeem's men rushed the camp, catching the tribe still sleeping.

Michael had thought he'd come only as an observer, but he soon found himself in the heat of the battle. He swung his sword true, and fought like a man possessed. All he could think about was that this tribe was the enemy, they were the tools of Sidi, the man who held his father prisoner. In his mind, every enemy slain was a strike for his father's freedom.

At the end of the battle, bodies littered the camp. Hakeem had kept his word, and none of the women or children had been harmed. They had been allowed to scatter into the desert to hide.

Hakeem had one of the survivors brought before him, because a plan was forming in his mind. The Turks were a superstitious lot, and he would plant a grain of fear in their minds that would grow into a legend. "Ride to your Turkish master and tell him and all his people that the green-eyed scorpion has made him an enemy. Tell the people how Akhdar 'em Akraba's powers allowed us to come into your camp and overcome you without one casualty because his magic protected us."

The man stood before Hakeem, quaking, his eyes darting about the crowd of faces, looking for the green-eyed devil. "Kill me now. I do not wish to look upon the face of the scorpion," he cried.

Michael did not know that Hakeem had used him to strike fear into the enemy. He dismounted and watched what he thought was an interrogation of a prisoner. He was astonished when the man trembled and dropped to his knees as Michael's eyes met his.

"Surely I have looked upon the face of death!" the man cried. "I beg you to kill me quickly."

To Michael's surprise, the man crawled to him and buried his face on the ground. "Mercy, oh, green-eyed one—have mercy."

Michael jerked the man up and glared at him. "As you showed mercy to the women and children you have massacred?"

Hakeem smiled, seeing that the man was now wild with fear. Unknowingly, Michael had furthered his scheme. He ordered his men to place the prisoner on a camel and send him into the desert.

"He will spread the news of your victory today, my friend," Hakeem told Michael.

"It was not my triumph, but I have slain my father's enemies."

"Our prisoner will tell of your magic, and that is what is important. This tribe will think long before attacking me or my friends."

Michael was not certain what the wily Hakeem would do next. He liked the old sheik, but he did not completely trust him.

* * *

Michael remained in the Sawarka camp for two more days, while preparations were made for the bridal journey. In that time, he became acquainted with a way of life that he'd never known existed. The men were continually holding contests, mostly with swords and on horseback. The women seemed to do all the work, while the men trained as warriors.

He doubted that any of Sawarka bedouin could read or write, and yet they had a knowledge about life that was not in any book.

Since coming to the camp, Michael's excitement began to grow. At last he had hope of finding his father. He and Hakeem made plans to enter the city of Caldoia soon after the wedding.

"You should know, Lord Michael, that we cannot just ride in and take your father to freedom. There must be war, and we don't even know the location where your father is being held. We must know this before we attack."

The night before they were to depart for Kamar Ginena, the sheik presented Michael with a gift, a black robe and sword of the Sawarka tribe.

"If you are like a brother to Prince Khaldun, you are like a son to me." He took a huge emerald from his finger and handed it to Michael. "This is to remind you that you are as one with my people." He smiled and clapped Michael on the back. "All who see this ring will know it as mine. Those in Caldoia who see it on your finger will accept you without question as one of my bedouin."