The Golden Barbarian

by Iris Johansen

  She dressed hurriedly in her old dark brown riding habit that she had refused to throw away despite Pauline’s pleas, left the chamber, and started downstairs. She had reached the landing when she encountered a young man wearing a burgundy-and-cream striped robe and flowing white trousers tucked into brown suede boots. His face seemed familiar.

  “I was just going to your chamber, Majira.” He bowed politely. “The majiron wishes to depart within the hour. Is it convenient for me to pack your valises now?”

  “There’s not much to pack. I saw no sense in having my cases unpacked for such a short stay.” She frowned thoughtfully. “You’re Said, aren’t you?”

  He bowed again. “Said Abdul, Majira.”

  “I didn’t recognize you at first.” Her eyes twinkled. “You’re wearing clothing.”

  He blinked, appearing slightly taken aback, “May I pack for you, Majira?”

  Good Lord, he was as stiff and sober as the Mother Superior. “By all means,” she said solemnly. “Where is the sheikh?”

  “In the stable. Shall I tell him you wish to see him?”

  “No, you go about your business.” She started down the steps again. “I’ll find him.”

  “Unescorted?” He looked slightly shocked. “There are men in the stable, Majira.”

  She glanced impatiently over her shoulder. “What difference does that make?”

  “It is not fitting. You are the majira. It would be unwise for you to—”

  “I’ll escort her, Said.” Sacha was standing at the bottom of the staircase. “Get to the packing.”

  Said sighed in apparent relief. “As you wish, my lord.”

  Tess shook her head as she watched him move quickly away. “He has no humor.”

  “Said’s a good man,” Sacha said. “But he does have a highly developed sense of protocol. It’s a different world in Sedikhan.”

  “So I’m beginning to discover.” She started down the last few steps. “What’s a majira?”

  He grinned. “That’s you. Wife of the majiron. The Tamrovian equivalent would be ‘Your Majesty.’ ”

  “And Galen is the majiron?”

  He nodded. “It’s one of his titles.” His smile disappeared as his gaze searched her face. “Are you … well?”

  She flushed and avoided his stare. “Probably better than you. You were definitely in your cups last night.” She strode past him toward the door. “I’m going to see Selik.”

  “Not your husband?”

  She glanced mischievously over her shoulder. “My husband appeared sound in wind and limb when I last saw him. Selik was not.”

  “Selik is much better.”

  Tess swung around to see Galen standing in the doorway. He gazed at her without expression, but his lips twitched betrayingly. “And I’m glad you found me … fit.”

  Tess heard a sound behind her from Sacha that sounded suspiciously like a smothered chuckle.

  She flushed as memories surfaced of Galen standing in naked splendor before her, his dark eyes burning, his hair flowing about his shoulders. Her gaze flew to his hair. It was tied neatly in a queue. He was dressed in a black superfine coat and matching trousers, his cravat wound as intricately as the one gracing Sacha’s throat. Somehow that evidence of proper civilized attire restored her composure. “Selik is able to travel?”

  He nodded. “But not bear weight. We’ll put him on a lead for a few days.”

  “That’s wise,” she commented.

  “I’m glad you approve.” He inclined his head in a slight bow. “I’ve purchased a mare from the innkeeper for you to ride to Zalandan. She’s a little long in the tooth, but adequate for the journey. Now, if you please, we’ll break our fast and be on our way. Our escort waits over the border at the Oasis of El Dabal.”

  A journey to Sedikhan. Who would have believed she would ever go to that barbaric land? She found she was suddenly filled with eagerness to be on her way. “Let’s go now. I’m not hungry.”

  “Nevertheless, you will eat,” Galen said. “We won’t be stopping until sundown, and you must keep up your strength.”

  She frowned. “I don’t like orders, my lord.”

  His faint smile faded. “Better mine than your father’s.”

  “True.” She gave him a veiled look from beneath her lashes. “But if you recall, I usually found ways to circumvent his orders.”

  “Those means will not be available to you in Zalandan.” He saw her abrupt stiffening and withdrawal, and his expression softened. “Which doesn’t mean I plan to tyrannize you, only to keep you safe.”

  “My father also took precautions to keep me safe. One of those precautions was to try to kill Apollo, who loved me.” She met his gaze directly. “Would you do something like that?”

  He gazed at her silently for a moment before he said slowly, “If such a thing became necessary.”

  She was startled. It was not the answer she expected. He had saved Apollo. Yet now he looked at her with implacable resolution shining in his eyes. There was no question he meant what he said. She drew a deep, shaky breath. “Then it’s well we come to an understanding.” She made an impatient gesture as he started to speak. “I know I have a certain value to you. I will do nothing to endanger it by damaging myself.”

  “I did not mean—”

  “Of course you did. I’m no fool. I know what my worth is to you.” She strode toward the common room. “I will eat. Such a small thing does not matter, and I know you must keep me well.” She challenged him with a glance. “But you offered me freedom, and I will not let you have it all your own way.”

  “Freedom comes when you leave me.” He smiled. “And I’m very used to my own way in Zalandan.”

  “I’m ravenous.” Sacha moved quickly forward and grasped Tess’s elbow, smoothly inserting himself between her and Galen. “If you’re both through throwing down gauntlets, may we eat now? Come along, Tess. You know how conflict upsets my delicate nature.” He heard a disbelieving snort from Galen and glanced over his shoulder with a hurt expression. “Philistine. You’ve never appreciated the sensitivity of my feelings.” He propelled Tess forward. “Besides, neither of you is giving me enough attention. I’m beginning to become bored.”

  Judging by the number of tents, Tess would have said a small army occupied the palm-shaded oasis of El Dabal. As she, Galen, Sacha, and Said approached, at least seventy riders, dressed in robes of the same striped burgundy and cream colors worn by Said, thundered toward them.

  “Mother of God.” Tess reined in her mare to stare at the cavalcade. “Even His Majesty doesn’t travel with an entourage this large.”

  “King Lionel doesn’t have to cross a country torn apart by warring tribes,” Galen said. “An escort isn’t mere panoply in Sedikhan.”

  “Not when Tamar claims the border country as his,” Sacha added with a grimace.

  “Tamar?” Tess asked.

  “Sheikh Tamar Hassan,” Galen said absently as he took off his tailored coat and draped it over the front of his saddle, then removed his cravat, put it carefully on top of the coat, and unfastened the first three buttons of his shirt.

  “What are you doing?” Tess asked.

  “Getting rid of these foolish trappings. I’m home now.”

  He smiled recklessly, his white teeth flashing in the bronze darkness of his face. Tess was spellbound. He looked wilder, less controlled than she had ever seen him. The hot breeze lifted his dark hair from his forehead, and barely suppressed excitement glittered in his eyes. She knew he spoke truly when he lovingly called the barren golden sand shimmering under hard blue skies “home.” He seemed one with this merciless, exotically beautiful land.

  “Bring her, Sacha. I need to go ahead to meet Kalim.” Galen spurred ahead into a gallop, with Said pounding at his heels.

  Tess sat her horse and watched the uproar of greeting as Galen rode into the troop. At first the men stayed still, merely making shrill, loud noises. Then, suddenly, they surrounded Galen. Even at a distance
Tess could see that the faces of the men surrounding Galen showed affection and a respect bordering on worship.

  “They do care about him,” Tess said thoughtfully.

  Sacha nodded. “Of course. He keeps the El Zalan alive and prospering.”

  “No, it’s more than that.”

  Sacha shot her a thoughtful glance. “Very perceptive, imp. Galen’s a chameleon. He’s taught himself to become whatever he has to be, to adjust to any situation, to give whatever is demanded. He gives the El Zalan what they need, and in turn they give him unquestioning affection and loyalty. I told you he holds great power.”

  For the first time since she started the journey, Tess experienced a flutter of uneasiness. If Galen was the chameleon Sacha described, the man she thought she had begun to know might not exist. She suddenly felt very much alone in this wild land.

  “It’s too late for second thoughts now,” Sacha said.

  She tossed her head. “I wasn’t having second thoughts. Well, only small ones.” She spurred her horse into a gallop. “Come on, let’s go. I’m hungry.”

  The tribesmen fell silent as Tess approached; they made her apprehensive, and she was glad Sacha was at her side. Galen was talking with an extraordinarily handsome young man mounted on a superb bay gelding. They were so absorbed in their conversation that Tess again felt estranged … and terribly alone.

  “What news of Tamar?” Sacha called as they drew within hailing distance of the two men.

  “No sign of him,” Galen said grimly. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not here.”

  The beautiful young man next to Galen flushed and said quickly, “I searched most diligently, Majiron.”

  “That means little. Tamar’s a wily wolf.” Galen turned his head and said something to the man in a low tone.

  Tess was irritated by Galen’s ignoring her and then realized how foolish she was being. Nothing in their bargain demanded Galen must stay by her side every minute, and she must see to her own needs. She boldly rode up to Galen and stopped her mare before him. “I’m tired and wish water and food, my lord.”

  He looked up absently and gestured casually to the man next to him. “May I present my wife, Kalim? This is my lieutenant, Kalim Ranmir, Tess.”

  Surprise and then resentment flickered over Kalim’s classic features. He bowed his head politely. “Majira.”

  “My lord Kalim.” She nodded and then looked again at Galen. “As I said, my lord, I’m hungry.”

  He caught the hint of defiance in her tone, and his eyes narrowed on her. He saw the lines of tension around her mouth and the arrow-straight rigidity of the carriage of her slight body. He smiled. “Then of course I must supply food to appease you. We’ve already discussed my duty in that regard.” He turned to Said. “Show my lady to my tent, Said, and fetch her whatever she requires.”

  “Will you be joining me later?” Tess asked.

  He looked a trifle surprised. “Is that your wish?”

  “As you like.” She shrugged carelessly, she hoped. “I merely want to know if I am to expect you.” Before he could reply, she turned and let her mare pick her way through the troop of tribesmen, her back very straight, her head high.

  “Who is this Kalim?” Tess asked Said as she rode beside him toward a tent in Galen’s striped colors. It was located by a sparkling blue pool that appeared to be directly in the center of the oasis.

  “He’s the majiron’s second in command. Kalim’s a very fierce fighter and much respected.”

  “I thought Sacha was his second in command.”

  “Oh no!” Said shook his head. “That would not be possible. My lord Sacha is an outsider. He is not of the El Zalan.”

  Her lips twisted. “Not too much of an outsider to befriend your majiron and fight for your cause.”

  Said nodded. “I meant no insult. He is a true friend to the El Zalan. Everyone likes my lord Sacha.”

  But they still had clearly not accepted him as one of their own, even after years of service. Her feeling of alienation deepened. “How nice for Sacha.”

  “He appears to find it pleasant.” For an instant the tiniest flicker of smile touched Said’s lips. “Our women have a special fondness for him.” The smile immediately disappeared, as if he had been startled by his own outspokenness. “Forgive me, I meant no disrespect, Majira.”

  “Of course not.” Tess shot him an exasperated glance. “Let’s come to an understanding, since we’re evidently going to spend a great deal of time together. I’m not like the women of the El Zalan, and I have no intention of behaving like them. I’m more accustomed to the talk in a stable than I am to women’s gossip. I will not become offended if you make remarks you deem indiscreet.” She paused. “And, in fact, such conversation may make me feel less …” She searched for a word that would not reveal her vulnerability and finally ended baldly, “Alone.”

  Said’s expression softened as he dismounted in front of the tent and came around to help her down. “You will not be alone. The women of the court will be honored to become friends of Majira. The majiron would not permit anything else.”

  “We shall see.” Holding Said’s hand, Tess threw her leg over the pommel and slipped from the sidesaddle. “However, I believe I shall fight my own battles and not rely on your master.”

  She turned and strode into the tent.

  Said brought water for washing, and after Tess had refreshed herself, he busied himself preparing to serve her meal. He put out a place setting on the intricate beauty of the Persian rug and served her delicately flavored rabbit stew. It was far better than the food at the café the previous night. “Won’t the majiron and my cousin be joining me?”

  Said shook his head. “They eat with the men by the fire.”

  “Indeed?” Now that she had rested a bit, her first qualms at the extraordinary situation in which she had been placed were disappearing. “Perhaps I’ll join them.” She picked up her bowl and started to get to her feet, but Said was frantically shaking his head, his face horror-struck. “No?”

  “The majiron would be most upset with me if I permitted you to leave the tent. It is not—”

  “Fitting,” Tess finished for him. “For a barbaric land your customs are annoyingly stringent.”

  “Barbaric?” The man was obviously insulted. “The El Zalan are not barbaric. Other tribes are barbaric, but we have the majiron’s laws.” He frowned. “You will not go to the campfire?”

  “No.” She was too weary tonight to fight the disapproval she would probably meet if she violated the El Zalan’s customs. Besides, she was beginning to like Said and had no desire to get him into Galen’s bad graces. “But it’s too hot to stay in this tent.”

  He thought for a moment. “I will spread a rug just outside the entrance, and you may catch the night breeze. We will turn out the lantern so that you can see but not be seen by the men.”

  “Is that nec—” She sighed. “Very well. Anything you say. Please do get the rug.”

  The breeze was indeed cool on her face as she lounged outside the tent with Said sitting a protective few yards away on his own rug. She didn’t really care about the coolness. She could have borne the heat of the tent, but she could not bear being totally isolated from the activity going on around the campfire across the pool from the tent. The air was alive with laughter and casual talk and the camaraderie of men accustomed to living with one another. She wasn’t the least bit intimidated any longer, and she yearned to join the men.

  She caught sight of Galen on the far side of the campfire. Her eyes widened in disbelief. He threw back his head and laughed heartily at something Kalim said. She watched Kalim smile and other men sitting in the circle move infinitesimally closer to Galen, as if being drawn by a magnet. She hadn’t had so much as a glimpse of this side of Galen. Did he reveal his warmth and openness only to his people? No, Sacha must have seen him thus, for he had followed Galen and fought under his banner for six years.

  A bittersweet wail, almost human-sounding, m
ade her turn in surprise. Said was playing a reed flute, and the music was inexpressibly lovely, blending with the night, sand, and fire into a harmony that was completely right for the time and place. When he finally took the instrument from his lips, she said, “That was lovely, Said.”

  He looked faintly embarrassed as he said gruffly, “The majiron does not mind. It passes the time even though for a protector of the majiron, it is not—”

  “Fitting,” Tess finished for him. She was growing weary of that word. “Then it should be fitting. Everything beautiful should be fitting. Play some more.”

  “You do not wish to go inside now?”

  “No, I want to stay here for a while.” She added quickly, “You were right, the breeze is cooling.” And she wanted to watch Galen’s expressions as he talked to the men around the campfire. If she studied him while he had his guard down, might she see into the man?

  Said continued to play his flute, and she settled herself more comfortably on the carpet, her gaze fixed in fascination on her husband.

  When Galen left the campfire and strolled around the pool toward the tent, it was nearly ten o’clock. Surprised, he stopped in front of Tess. “I thought you would have gone to sleep by now.”

  She scrambled to her feet. “I was tired, but not sleepy.”

  “Did Said furnish you with everything you needed?”

  “Everything but sociable company.” She added tartly, “Which you and Sacha certainly didn’t deny yourself.”

  Galen held the tent flap back, and she preceded him inside. He took off his burnoose and tossed it on the cushions of a low divan. “I’ve been away for almost two weeks. Kalim had much to tell me.”

  “You didn’t look as if you were conducting state business.”

  He turned to stare at her with raised brows. “That sounded suspiciously shrewish and wifely.”

  She flushed. “No such thing. I was curious … well, and bored.” She frowned. “I would have joined you, but the mere mention of doing such a thing sent Said into a tizzy.”