"I am curious, I confess," Bahadur said, and pressed another bit of bread and cheese to his mouth, pale eyes watching him intently.
Simon took the bite, letting his teeth catch a finger, tongue just barely touching it, watching with interest the way those pale eyes flashed. "Curious about what?"
"I feel sorry for the man or woman who has claim on you."
"No one has claim on me," Simon said. "I have a friend, but that's all we are." Why he felt the need to say that, he didn't know. He accepted another bit of mutton, not missing the way fingers lingered every so briefly on his lower lip. "What do you want?"
"Many things," Bahadur said. "None of which I am likely to get. Tell me why you came here?"
If he'd ordered it, commanded it, Simon would have told him no. But there was something about the way he asked, a sort of…desperation…in those pale eyes that he was only just beginning to notice. "I was looking for something," he said.
"What?"
"I believe you said we were bargaining. What do I get for specifics?"
Bahadur let out a soft huff of laughter. "What would you like?"
Simon considered. "No more of that wine. Ever. And my arms are numb."
"No more wine," Bahadur agreed. "But I'm not unbinding your arms."
"Why do you not trust your Sheik then?"
"Why should I trust you?"
Simon leaned forward, stretching as far as he could, their faces not even a hand's width apart. "Because obviously you can trust no one else. Why do you not trust your Sheik? Why are you attempting to find an ally in a prisoner? If you want me to trust you, prove that I can, because I am the one who is in danger here."
"You're not the only western man in this camp," Bahadur said quietly. "Though, I am realizing more and more that you are not western, except perhaps in body." He reached out to touch Simon's dark red hair, then realized what he was doing and dropped his hand. "They've been coming and going from camp, nearly every night," his voice had dropped to a whisper, and Simon heard a world of exhaustion and strain in it. "The Sheik and those closest to him have been trying to keep it from the rest of the Tribe. I only noticed it because…" he smiled briefly.
"I'm sure you can guess."
"You need to find better places to meet your lover."
Bahadur rolled his eyes, then sobered. "I think they are making negotiations with one of the western nations, though all their languages sound the same, I've not been able to tell which…" His shoulders sagged.
Simon narrowed his eyes. "So the west is invading the Desert. It looks as though I've stumbled across one of their entry points. Not what I came for, but it will work - if I can take the news to someone."
"You believe me?" Bahadur said. "Other Tribes are involved in this?"
Hesitating briefly, because if he was being set up then he was about to cause more deaths than merely his own, Simon at last gave a mental shrug and pressed forward. He had few options. "For some time we've believed the western nations to be planning an attack on Tavamara. We've been led to believe they're using the Desert to do it. We're just not certain how, though it would seem that at the very least they are coercing some Tribes and slaughtering others. Worse, they do so disguised as other Tribes."
Bahadur's eyes widened as the ramifications of what Simon said hit him.
"You have to let me go," Simon said, not ashamed to plead. Though only the Lady knew how he'd managed to stumble across the one man in the Tribe who was willing to stand against his Sheik. Was he the only one? "Is anyone else aware of what your Sheik is doing?"
"Yes," Bahadur said. "We've simply no way of doing anything about it. Yet."
"Let me go, please," Simon repeated. "I can carry word to those who must know, those who can do something about it."
"Why should I trust you?"
Simon frowned. "Why should I trust you? For all I know, you could be setting me up to lead you back to those I work for, to learn what it was I really sought. Face it, son of Jackal, we have no reason to trust each other. Nor do we have much choice. Come with me if you want, see for yourself what I will do to help your Tribe."
Bahadur looked at him intently for what felt like forever. He tilted his head, expression turning thoughtful, curious. "What's your real name? You are eastern with a western skin."
"Body does not always match mind and soul," Simon replied. "Will you free me?"
"Yes," Bahadur said. "Tonight, after dark. There are things I must prepare for our journey."
"Promise?" Simon asked softly.
Bahadur nodded. "On the Lady and the Desert, on my honor and my life."
"My name is Shihab."
"Then I will see you later tonight, Shihab." Bahadur stood and left the tent, leaving Shihab alone with his roiling thoughts.
Seven
"What happened here?" Sahayl asked, unable to completely hide his dismay and horror. "It looks like a massacre. Fox should have been much stronger than this." He shook his head.
"Who attacked?"
"At least it looks like it was only a small encampment," Wafai said, though he didn't sound as though he thought that much of a reassurance.
Sahayl turned to look at the man on his left, the tall and slender Sheik of Cobra, his body covered in the scale tattoo worn by the men of Cobra. He stared grimly at the mess before them.
Most of the camp had been reduced to ashes; the smoke was what had alerted surrounding Tribes. The fires had burned out, but there was enough left to tell what had occurred. Not all the bodies had burned completely away, and here and there were bits of the camp that had somehow escaped the flame. Metal was charred, disfigured. The horses had undoubtedly been taken by the raiders. "Who did this?" Sahayl repeated, then shook his head. "Who could do this?"
"Ghost," the Cobra Sheik said, "except that you've no cause to do so. I do not think Falcon had any quarrel with them, but the Sands are ever shifting…" He shrugged. "It looks as though they were preparing a raid themselves…but they made no mention of it to us." He frowned in thought. "What they are doing this far east I could not say. Fox's home is, I believe, farther west of here. He slid a thoughtful glance toward Sahayl. "Are you certain Ghost had no quarrel?"
From any other Tribe the question would have been regarded as an insult and dealt with accordingly. Sheik Zulfiqar, however, knew Hashim well. Cobra was one of the few Tribes that still maintained a full alliance with Ghost, not merely a silent agreement to ignore each other.
"I am certain," Sahayl said. "If he had angered another Tribe, I would know about it." He shoved away thoughts of the recent attack on Cat. Dwelling on what was over and done with would only cause needless frustration. The sands would shift; Cat would not be their enemy forever.
Zulfiqar grunted, clearly unconvinced, but did not press the matter. "So we are left with a mystery."
"Saa, I wonder." Sahayl urged Bloodmoon forward, drawing the slightest bit closer to the still hot remains of the encampment. "I think more and more that someone is in the Desert who does not belong here. And who means it only harm."
"What do you mean?" Zulfiqar demanded. He listened with a deep frown as Wafai explained their suspicions that someone was seeking to cause chaos and war amongst the Tribes.
"Nothing like that has been reported to me," he said finally. "I think I would have noticed false Tribesmen, but then again, if they knew what they were about…" He shrugged. "But it is little wonder I am lost in the Desert on this matter." He held out an arm, turning it back and forth to show off the scale pattern running the entirety of it. "Cobra would be hard to imitate. It makes me wonder, suddenly, if perhaps we will end up like this," he motioned to the burned encampment, "if what you say is true."
Sahayl turned back toward them, face troubled. "We have little evidence to stand upon, sadly. Ghost supports me, but for obvious reasons it is hard to know what is happening to other Tribes." He left unsaid that his father thought his ideas foolish. "If you have heard nothing, then perhaps the problem is not as great as it seems to me."
"I would not discount it," Zulfiqar said thoughtfully. "I will see what I can learn from those Tribes which will speak with me of such matters. If it is true, then our unknown enemy knows what he is about. I hope you are wrong."
"Saa, wrong would be a nice thing to be, in this instance." Sahayl looked once more over the charred remains of the camp. "Who, besides you, did the Fox call ally? I wonder if the rest of the Tribe is aware. A hard strike, this…"
Wafai nodded, expression grim. "To judge, they brought a sizeable raiding force. It would have been composed of many of their best soldiers. Our new enemy, if there is one, knows his game very well indeed…"
Sahayl flicked his gaze to Zulfiqar. "We will keep an ear to the wind for word of who might have done this. We will send word at once if we hear before you of what transpired here."
"Cobra thanks you, Ghost. Sandstorm Amir." Zulfiqar fell silent as they left, waiting until they were well away to speak again. "How is my daughter?"
"Well, honored Sheik and father-in-law. Her spirit and opinions remain strong as ever."
Zulfiqar laughed, the sound loud in the quiet desert. "Be grateful she is not as bad as her mother. Who is beginning to inquire after grandchildren."
Sahayl smiled briefly. "She will have to be patient a little longer. I have no desire to raise children to go to war."
"Then you will have to raise them outside the Desert," Zulfiqar said, tone matter of fact. "Here in the Sands, the best we can do is teach our children how to fight for their lives. I had not thought you so naïve, Sandstorm Amir." His eyes were sharp, piercing, as he regarded Sahayl.
Sahayl shrugged the words off. "Saa, perhaps I will find the solution no one else has."
"If only because no one else has bothered to look, my Sandstorm Amir," Wafai said, coming up alongside Sahayl's right side, watching the Cobra Sheik as intently as Zulfiqar watched Sahayl.
Zulfiqar gave a sharp, short bark of laughter. "Are you hoping to stop the Tribal wars?"
"I am tired of violence," Sahayl said. The words were softly spoken, his face expressionless, but they stopped Zulfiqar short.
The Cobra Sheik finally shrugged and turned away. "To my memory, sandstorms do not exist to save. Do not get my daughter killed with your foolishness. Keep your ears to the wind for words of why the Lady struck so cruel a blow to the Fox."
"Of course," Sahayl replied. "Telese, Cobra Sheik. Body, mind and soul." He gestured, then bowed his head low.
"In all find strength," Zulfiqar said. "Tell my daughter I send my greetings. Selete." He turned his horse in the direction of his own camp and raced off.
Sahayl and Wafai watched him go, and turned in the direction of their own camp when he vanished over a dune. Then shouts and the sound of clashing steel shattered the air, and with a glance at each other, they raced off in the direction Zulfiqar had gone, tugging up the protective cloth to cover the lower half of their faces.
"Falcon!" Sahayl said, drawing his sword and racing down a dune, meeting the man who charged him and parrying the swing, wheeling around to counter, noting from the corner of his eye as Wafai moved to help Zulfiqar. He focused his full attention on the man before him as a swing jarred his arm, cost him a moment's balance. Rearing back, he held his sword at the ready and considered his opponent, whose eyes blazed as blue as the sky. "We meet again, my desert rose. Are you purposely seeking me out?"
A snarl of rage came from the blue-eyed man and he launched once more into a full-fledged attack, and Sahayl could not help but be impressed by his utter ruthlessness. The man attacked with single-minded focus - unlike Sahayl, who was letting himself be distracted.
Which wasn't like him.
"Enough!" Zulfiqar bellowed. "Stand down immediately, Falcon! Ghost!" He surged between them as they broke momentarily apart, and both men were forced to halt. "Falcon! I demand to know why you attacked me without heed. Cobra has no quarrel with you."
The blue-eyed man yanked down his mouth cover. "Survivors stumbled into our camp a few hours ago. They spoke of snakes and fire. Hearing their story, we came to see for ourselves what occurred and what do I find here but a snake." His eyes flicked past Zulfiqar to Sahayl.
"And Ghost. I am not surprised. Not content to slaughter Cat?"
"It is nothing to do with you!" Wafai snapped.
"Yes, because you threw away a chance for peace!" The blue-eyed man snarled back.
Sahayl shook his head. "I didn't mean for things to go that way-"
"Well they did, Ghost Amir. Why have you attacked Fox?"
"We didn't," Zulfiqar answered. "Cobra saw the smoke and came to investigate. When I saw what had happened, I brought in Ghost to assist with solving the mystery. We had nothing to do with this."
"And why should I believe you?" The blue-eyed man spat.
Zulfiqar regarded him coolly. "I am the Cobra Sheik, he is the Sandstorm Amir. We are perfectly within our rights to kill you, Falcon. Who are you to demand answers of us?" He hefted his sword in warning. "You with the eyes of a foreign bastard."
Another Falcon answered, moving protectively to the blue-eyed man's side. "He is the honored nephew of the Falcon Sheik. We were ordered to scout the remains of the Fox camp and determine what happened."
"We seek the same," Sahayl said. "There is no need for all this violence."
"A laughable statement coming from a Ghost!" the blue-eyed man snapped. "What proof have you to offer that you did not slaughter Fox?"
"What proof have you?" Zulfiqar asked. "Cobra claims alliance with Fox and Ghost. We gain nothing by killing Fox. Falcon claims none of us as comrades, so if anyone is under suspicion here, it is you."
"Enough!" Sahayl said. "That's enough."
"Sandstorm Amir…" Wafai said, concern in his voice.
Sahayl ignored him. "Tribes don't attack like this. What is the sense in burning that which could be still put to use? You know I'm right!"
"I know what Fox told me," the blue-eyed man said coldly. "Men with snake tattoos attacked the camp, slaughtered them all and then set everything aflame. Cobra is the only Tribe in the Desert with such markings."