by A. W. Exley
Hakim leaned against the roughened side. The sandstone blocks soared above his head and reached to the very heavens. Interlocked by some unknown fashion, the sheer face had withstood the attack of the centuries with only small patches crumbling under the weight of their eternal duty. Thieves long ago stole the golden cap that once rested at the apex and spoke of the fortunes controlled by pharaohs of old.
Arms crossed over his chest, Hakim was tall and broad with a closely shaven head and strong, square jaw. The soldier’s dark skin was polished by oil and he gleamed like an obsidian jewel, drawing Allie to him. She halted a pace away, her throat dry but not from the parched surroundings. Nerves sucked the moisture from her mouth.
“Is it true, are you really leaving?” His low and sultry voice washed over her.
Goosebumps raced along her flesh to quickly disappear under the sun’s constant assault. Her heart thumped and her tongue touched the edge of her lip, but had no moisture to offer. “Yes, I am to go to school in England. Are you really joining the Sultan’s personal guard?”
His black gaze roamed over her face. “It is a high honour to protect the Sultan and his women.”
“But, you will be—”
“Gelded?” He chuckled at her concern, he exuded the confidence gained in his twenty years on this earth. “Not for a few more years yet.”
Bridging the distance between them, he drew his fingertip down the side of her face. She closed her eyes to hide the jumble of emotions. The women of the harem laughed and teased. They said Hakim was a fine choice, to be the one―her first. Inside she recoiled, not ready. Too soon, her body whispered. Not right, her brain replied, even as she knew only a few days were left to them.
“You have only to ask, if there is anything you want me to teach you.”
This time when he asked, something inside her clicked. This time, her body relaxed.
Yes, teach me. She sighed and then frowned. Since when did Hakim have a Scottish burr? Her eyes flew open to meet an amused grey gaze. She had fallen asleep, lulled by embrace of the deep sofa.
Jared nodded to the book in her lap, Xenophon’s On Horsemanship. “We take our horse training very serious in the Highlands. Have you read Baucher’s Dialogues sur l’équitation? His teachings are quite controversial. I don’t agree with his harsh methods but he has an interesting insight into poll flexions.”
“I’m not familiar with him.” Allie shook her head, trying to dislodge the daze of her dream, laughing black eyes replaced by serious grey ones. “I leave dressage to the nobles, my riding is more practical; go, stop and jump.”
“Don’t underrate yourself, you have a good seat and soft hands.” He dropped into the opposite wingchair and draped his long legs over the side so he could rest his head on the arm. His elegant fingers wrapped around Art of War.
A few short months ago, Allie thought all she ever wanted resided in Egypt. Then her world was shaken and now, she didn’t know. The occupant of the chair opposite caused her body to thrum in a new and alien way.
Jared lowered his gaze to his book and engrossed himself in the open pages. They avoided being alone together since their almost kiss two weeks earlier. Allie spent the time chastising herself for letting Jared under her skin. Jared disappeared from her training sessions, leaving her to practice with only Duncan and Marshall. She missed his presence and his easy friendship even as her body struggled with an ache for physical contact.
Their exchanges become perfunctory as they handed over Zeb and ensured that at least one of their other friends was present. Allie didn’t know what their embrace meant, but she caught her breath whenever she remembered his touch. She couldn’t get her head around how foolish she was being. It didn’t matter that he talked to her like an equal, he was far above her position, not to mention contracted to Madeline.
They read in silence for half an hour when Zeb arrived, tailed by a reluctant Duncan. Weasel gave a hiss, jumped off the sofa and hid underneath.
Duncan always entered the library as though he expected to burst into flame on stepping over the threshold, or anticipating that the books would rise up and avalanche upon him. Zeb took the remaining wing chair, while Duncan brushed Allie’s feet out of the way so he could sink into the sofa.
Zeb cleared his throat to attract attention. “I have to go to Leithfield this weekend to see the blacksmith, he has completed a commission. I assume you will be accompanying me?” He regarded Jared over the top of his glasses.
“Yes.” Jared closed the book and tossed it on the floor, dropping the pretence of reading. “Although given Duncan is grounded he won’t be coming.” Jared glared at his cousin, who slunk down further in the cushions.
Allie stifled a laugh. The whole school knew Duncan was caught trying to sneak into one of the girl’s rooms. She couldn’t resist the opportunity to increase his discomfort. “Given you’re the tallest boy in school, what on earth made you think you would be mistaken for a girl and let into our wing?”
Duncan threw his hands up in the air. “I thought I was on a promise.”
Allie abandoned her book, curious to hear his version of the full story. She leaned in closer to him, dropping her tone to a more conspiratorial one. “Is it true you were angling to get into Abigail’s room?”
Duncan pulled his brows together, trying to identify who Allie meant. “No, well, yes. But only to see her roommate, Beth.”
Allie gave a snort of laughter. “Well, you seriously misread those signals. You’re not her type.”
Duncan looked hurt. “How do you know? Most girls find me irresistible.” He gave her his best winning smile and ran his hands over his expansive chest. Allie had to admit most of the girls carried a soft spot for Duncan.
“I know because I’ve already had to diplomatically turn her down.” Allie gave Duncan a wink as his jaw dropped open, but she refused to elaborate.
Duncan sat upright, more interested in the conversation. “We are definitely coming back to that story later, in full graphic detail please.”
“Actually you’re not having a good year are you?” Allie continued. “I’m beating you in Weapons training and now I’m beating you to the girls. Have you thought about taking up needlepoint instead?”
Duncan narrowed his eyes, the smile dropped from his face.
“Perhaps you could try it over the weekend with Eloise, you could help her stitch up frogs while I go with these two to Leithfield.” Allie gave him a wink.
“It might not be safe,” Jared said.
Allie held his gaze. “I think I can handle a ride in the countryside, don’t you? And I do believe I am the disposable one.”
She lifted her feet back up on the sofa just to annoy Duncan, who stuck out his bottom lip at her. She pulled her knees up close under her chin so all of her would fit on the small space he left unoccupied. She recognised it would be futile to try and push him off, he was twice her weight.
“You know I am useful with a weapon, and for other reasons.” She turned to catch the frown on Jared’s face. “If you keep scowling, the wind is going to change on you one day and you’ll be stuck like that forever.”
Jared changed his scowl to a raised eyebrow, but he stopped arguing with her. “We’ll leave early tomorrow morning.” He gave Allie a fixed look. “Be prepared.”
Saturday, 20th August.
Just as the first tendrils of daylight snuck across the horizon, the boys waited in the stable courtyard. Jared’s large gelding snorted and pawed at the ground in impatience. Jared sat the horse with an easy grace, a soft but restraining hand on the reins. The horse knew it wouldn’t be long until he could stretch his legs after a night in the stables. Jared’s coat draped over both sides of the horse’s flank, keeping some of the early chill off both of them. His katana nestled against his back.
Zeb had somehow found a saddle and girth long enough to encompass the expanse of Thumper’s rib cage. He looked pleased with himself, being in control of a mechanical, rather than natural, mount. T
here was nothing natural-looking about his dinosaur. He pulled a scarf tight around his neck and his top hat firmly over his ears. His fingers wrapped around a strange control protruding from Thumper’s short neck.
Soiron waited for Allie and snorted when she saw her approaching, dancing away as far as the groom’s grip allowed from the metal beast beside her. The horse lowered her head and Allie moved her hand higher and gave a quick scratch behind a fluffy ear. Their greeting over, she finished putting the soft leather gloves over her slender fingers.
“When you’re ready, Miss,” the stable boy said as he interlaced his fingers and stooped over, making a platform for Allie’s foot. She picked up the hem of her pin-stripe skirt in one hand and placed her foot on the offered palms. She rested her other hand on the top of the saddle for support and gave a nod. As he straightened his back and lifted, Allie gave a jump and he easily put her up on the saddle.
She hooked her right leg around the upright pommel and felt the warmth of the mare under her right calf as she settled her leg against the safe and the horse’s shoulder. The groom placed the left stirrup on her foot and she quickly arranged her skirts and checked that her long jacket sat properly. The groom passed up the reins and Allie felt the weight of them in her hands. The mare pricked her ears in anticipation.
“Ready girl?” Allie whispered. The mare adjusted her weight and sat back on her hocks, poised, but waiting for a signal from her rider.
“If you’re ready?” Jared asked.
In reply, Allie touched the mare with her left heel and at the same time rocked her seat as though starting the forward stroke on a swing. The mare leapt forward in a canter and danced past the gelding and Thumper.
“Come on then,” Allie called back over her shoulder, glad of the opportunity for a run after the summer rain confined them all inside for long days.
“C’mon,” Jared yelled to wake Zeb, as his own horse sprung forward as soon as his rider shifted his weight. There was a clatter and screech as four shod hooves and two metal claws scrabbled over the cobbles and under the courtyard arch. The cobbles gave way to packed earth as they moved beyond the school grounds and took the southern road. The two horses cantered alongside each other as the road opened out, letting Zeb stay in front. Thumper needed the extra space for its awkward gait and they wanted to keep the horses behind, least they think they were pursued.
Their ride soon developed its own rhythm, periods of canter for the horses to stretch out their legs followed by a resting walk. The horses lost their nervousness around the dinosaur, and allowed Zeb to ride between them, although still a little forward.
Allie used the lull to throw a question at Jared. “Why do you prefer a katana?”
He glanced over at her. “Why do you do Tai Chi with a jian?”
Allie considered the question. Although schooled with many weapons, some became extensions of your body, and not pieces of metal. Her mind had an affinity for the small jian, she couldn’t imagine not having the double edged blade in her hand.
“Because it resonates with something deep inside me.”
His eyes widened for a moment, and he worked his jaw back and forth. Twice he opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Then he nodded and just said, “Yes.”
He turned his gaze back to the path and Allie decided to quiz Zeb about Thumper.
“So how do you tell it where you want to go? Does he have a programmed route, like the other week?” Allie leaned back, one hand on Soiron’s rump as they talked.
“No.” Zeb pushed his top hat up his brow. “I use this device.” He indicated the slender brass pole attached to the back of Thumper’s neck. “I move it forward for more momentum, back for less and from side to side for steering.”
Thumper halted, backed up and turned in a circle while Zeb narrated the movements he made with his hands.
“Once I have tested the defensive devices, I will install a way of making them accessible from a main control panel.”
“Not far now,” Jared called as the sun climbed higher in the sky.
Zeb continued to tell Allie about his many projects. He even gave an impromptu history lesson about the school and the surrounding York countryside.
They continued at a relaxed pace, the horses quiet now they had spent all the excess energy, unconcerned by Thumper and its strange rocking gait. The beaten earth road took one more turn and revealed the village through the surrounding oaks, elms, and beech. It looked picture book perfect with old stone buildings covered in rambling ivy, wisteria, and roses. The village managed to depict ramshackled and charming in one glance.
“You certainly stay off the beaten path for parts,” Allie observed.
“Craftsmen in larger towns talk. Father and I spread our components amongst a number of workers in small villages like this. It stops any one person piecing together our project,” Zeb explained.
They passed the first few buildings. On closer inspection, mortar worked loose in the bricks and birds looking for nesting material raided thatching. The buildings deteriorated piece-by-piece, and would eventually fall back into the surrounding earth.
This town looks down on its luck.
Two grubby children with gaunt faces ran at their stirrups until Jared tossed them a coin. They scrabbled in the dirt over the prize.
“This would never happen in Scotland,” he muttered under his breath. “The laird would ensure roofs were mended and the children had at least one meal a day.”
“Perhaps the lord is also down on his luck,” Allie said.
Jared’s fingers curled around his reins. “More likely too busy plotting how to divide up England with his cronies.”
Allie frowned. “What do you mean? King William rules England.”
“But he is not long for this world. The English throne is ripe for the picking.”
“Princess Victoria will take the throne.” Politics had never interested her, but it rankled to hear Victoria dismissed before she ever had a chance to prove herself.
“She is a girl, a minor, and untested. In Scotland birth alone does not guarantee a throne. At best Victoria will be used as a pawn or a puppet, at worst—” his words trailed off as they neared their destination.
The smithy was obvious by the smoke rising from the workshop and the sound of hammer hitting steel from within. A solid hitching rail ran the length of the shop’s front veranda and the horses halted in front of it. Jared leapt to the ground, landing on the balls of his feet like a cat, and then twisted his gelding’s reins around the rail.
“Damn sidesaddles,” Allie muttered. She couldn’t leap as quickly or elegantly to the ground and didn’t want a repeat of the last time Jared lifted her down. She kicked her left foot free of the stirrup and turned, lifting her right leg over the upright pommel as she sat sideways on the saddle. She was too slow. Jared stood next to the mare, his face obscured as he held out his arms for her.
I wish I could figure out what game he played.
She leaned down and he lifted her from the saddle. It had been a long ride and he kept his hands on her waist until he was sure she had her balance.
“I’m glad we are back on speaking terms, the last few weeks have been awkward and I—” His gaze dropped away and then came back to her. “I have missed talking to you.” He pitched his voice low, so Zeb would not overhear. He swallowed and turned his attention to the mare, running a hand down her neck.
Allie made a pretence of shaking out her skirt and tried to ignore how close he was standing. Warmth from the ride radiated off him and drew her in. Her bones missed Egypt and any source of heat called to her. She risked a glance but couldn’t read his expression. Since he had opened the door she decided to take a chance.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she whispered. Then chewed her lower lip, thinking she revealed too much. “I can’t bait any of the other nobles like I can tease you,” she added.
A faint smile played over his lips and Allie thought she saw relief pass behind his eyes
as he swept his gaze back to her. As he moved to tie up Soiron, she noted he slid his sword to hang at his left side, hidden under the folds of his jacket.
Zeb dropped down a small metal ladder and climbed off the side of Thumper. He gave the metal monstrosity a slap on the side. “That was a much better ride than any nag.”
Allie and Jared exchanged rolled eyes as they stepped up onto the porch and into the humid interior of the smithy.
A short man with corded arm muscles, resembling tree trunks and covered in a thin layer of soot, laboured at the anvil next to the fire. On seeing them, he ceased his hammering. Taking up the pinchers, he picked up the shoe and plunged it into a bucket of water. Plumes of steam rose into the already stifling room.
Allie closed her eyes and inhaled. Heated air seared into her lungs. Egypt, she thought, letting warmth soak into her bones for the first time in months.
The smith wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his forearm, smearing a black mark farther over his forehead.
“I finished it just like your drawings,” he said without preamble.
Zeb turned to his friends. “This won’t take long; I just need to check the piece and pay.”
Jared arched a dark brow but refused to budge from the spot where he stood.
The smith rummaged on a reinforced workbench littered in metalwork and piles of horseshoes. He lifted a small round object the size of a Christmas bauble that appeared to be made of spun metal wire.
Warmed by the steam from the fire, Allie realised English clothes weren’t designed for heat. A trickle of sweat worked its way down the inside of her corset.
“Why don’t I go next door and buy lunch. We could sit outside and enjoy the last of summer,” she said. “Or is sitting under a tree too uncouth for your lordship?”
Jared flashed one of his rare easy smiles. “It’s a good idea. We’ve been cooped up inside too long with the summer rain. I’ll wait here with Zeb.” He crossed his arms over his chest and resumed his bodyguard duty.