by Sandi Rog
Chuckling a low soft rumble through his teeth, he took her by the arm and escorted her through town.
He held her firmly in his grasp and her cheeks flooded with heat as they came into a crowd of people, some she recognized from when she was juggling. She still wore Pappous’s tunic, and now that she was a “woman,” she wished she could pull the skirt down to hide her calves. Some shook their heads at her when they recognized her for what she was—a fraud. Ironic. She accused this man dragging her around of being fraud, yet, he was the one exposing her as one. Desperate to break free, not just from his grasp, but from the disapproving looks, she twisted her arm, but the man’s grip was too strong. Where was Titus when she needed him?
At that moment, Titus appeared, standing before the man, with the tip of his sword at Alexander’s throat. “Release her,” he said, his voice calm, but firm.
Alexander pulled Elianna behind him, away from the blade, almost as if he were protecting her. Strange. But then his men grabbed her arms, and as he handed her off to them, they removed his outer tunic.
“We are brothers,” Alexander said. “I don’t want to fight you.”
“Brothers or not, I have sworn to protect her, and I will with my life. She’s not going with you.” Titus swung his blade back.
Fast as lightning, Alexander drew his sword.
“No! Titus!” Elianna shouted. The men pulled her away from Titus and Alexander, shoving her toward the horses. One kept a grip on her arm as they watched the fight.
Titus swung with surprising speed and power, but to Elianna’s horror, Alexander dodged, blocked, and parried his thrusts.
Both men fought like warriors. Elianna didn’t think anyone could beat Titus, but as she watched Alexander fighting with the same speed and strategies, she feared Titus might actually lose this time.
The man who held her released her arm and moved toward the fighters, shaking his fist in the air, shouting for Alexander.
Alexander and Titus fought, clashing swords thrust by thrust, parry by parry. The power and fury in the fight was fearsome. She’d never seen anything like it. Surely, Titus had met his match.
They were going to kill each other, and losing Titus would devastate her. Despite the fact that his loss was expected, she was still in agony over Pappous’s death. To lose Titus now, when she needed him most, would be too much. She had to get help. But how? Elianna bumped into one of the horses, a beautiful black stallion that nuzzled her shoulder. Petronius. He would help. Seeing that the men were focused on the fight and not on her, she dropped her bag and grabbed the animal’s mane, reached over his neck and jumped with all her might. Pulling herself up, she lifted one leg over and managed to straddle the animal, not caring how much of her legs now showed. Recalling how Roman soldiers would get their horses to move, she kicked her heels into the animal’s flanks and he jolted out of the stable.
“Go!” she shouted, kicking again to get him to run faster. They burst through the crowd and she nearly lost her grip from all the bouncing, but she leaned forward and grabbed hold of the stallion’s mane. Apparently, that signaled for him to go faster, and he galloped through the streets, knocking townspeople out of their way and leaping over others. Elianna screamed, for there was no way to control the movements of the animal. How did one turn a horse? How did one slow it down? She knew to tug on the reins would help, and if she could sit up, she’d tug on his mane, but she didn’t dare let go, otherwise, she might fall. Unable to do anything, she squeezed with her knees, holding herself on the wild beast, and closed her eyes as they tore through the town and out one of the gates.
Ω
Alexander wiped his brow with the back of his hand as he stood over Titus. David must have trained him as well. He chuckled at the thought as he sheathed his sword. He’d lost his keffiyeh. The headscarf lay wadded up on the ground somewhere. “Take care of him,” he said as he turned toward his men. He went into the open-air stables. Nothing but horses, and no Elianna. He turned to Mohar. “Where is she?”
“Umm….” Mohar’s face went so pale it matched his beige tunic. With a trembling finger, he pointed away from them, at the people and toward the marketplace where they’d first spotted Elianna.
One of Alexander’s servants ran up to Mohar. “She’s gone.” Out of breath, he bent, hands on his knees. “Nefer took off like a bat out of a cave. How she got on the stallion, I don’t know, but Lord Alexander is going to have us for lunch, spit us out, and stomp on what’s left of us. He’s lost his woman and his horse!” With that he straightened, but Mohar motioned with his eyes to Alexander. When the man saw Alexander, his jaw went slack.
“Which way?” Alexander mounted Haru’s steed, the fastest after Nefer. The brown stallion bobbed his head, ready to run.
“The north gate!” The servant pointed in that direction, and Alexander charged past him.
As soon as he was out of the village, he spotted a line of dust floating on the air in the distance, definitely that of a running horse. He galloped toward it. What if she fell off? She could break a limb, or worse, her neck. He didn’t want to think of the consequences as he charged after her. Where did she think she was going anyway? He would have expected her to head back to Cappadocia.
As he caught Nefer in his sights, he waited until he was close enough to whistle. He didn’t want Nefer to turn too abruptly. If he did that, she could fall off and break her pretty little neck. He clenched his teeth, kicking Haru’s steed to move faster.
He’d taught Nefer to come to him by using a rope and letting Haru lead the horse out away from him. Alexander would whistle, and Haru would guide Nefer back to him. Then he’d send them out farther and farther. After that, they’d let go of the rope, to see if Nefer would come back on his own, and he did. Certain whistles instructed him to buck and throw a person off in case someone tried to steal him—like now. But he couldn’t use that whistle on Elianna. He had another whistle which taught Nefer to turn in a wide arc, but it’d been a while since they’d practiced that one. Traveling from city to city, searching for Elianna, made it difficult to find any wide open spaces to train and keep Nefer’s memory sharp.
He was close enough now, and he lifted his fingers to his mouth. Let it work. Lord, please keep her on that horse. His whistle cut across the clearing like an arrow, and Nefer began turning, making the wide arc as he’d been taught. “Hold on, Elianna. Hold on, girl.” They made the arc, and now Nefer galloped toward him, but they weren’t out of danger yet. She could still fall.
Ω
Elianna still wasn’t able to sit up for fear she’d fall back, the horse was galloping so fast. Her legs ached from holding on so tight, and her hands gripped the mane so fiercely, she felt certain she’d have blisters.
A whistle shot over her from a distance and the horse began to turn. She felt herself sliding to the right, but she tightened her legs and lifted her bum. She found, if she moved her arms back and forth to the rhythm of the horse’s neck and kept her rear up, she was able to stay on and the ride was less jarring. But she was so concentrated on staying on the horse that steering or stopping the animal became impossible. As the horse finished making a wide arc, he headed back toward the village, and that’s when she spotted the horse’s owner.
Oh, Lord. No!
If he was there, that meant he won the fight and Titus was dead. And because she tried to get help, he would think she was trying to steal his horse. If he caught her, what would he do to her? She’d heard rumors in the past that sheiks could be severe to women, expecting extreme submission and obedience. If only she could make the animal stop. If only she could jump off. But when she looked at how fast the ground moved beneath them, she didn’t dare. She’d never experienced such high speeds, never moved so fast in her life, despite being a swift runner.
Lord, get me off this horse!
The animal neared his master and slowed. Elianna waited for the right moment to spring. Just as the horse came to a trot, she swung her leg over the side and slid to
the ground. Landing on her knees, she winced from the dirt and rocks cutting into them. Despite the pain, she pushed to her feet and ran toward the hills. Surely, Cappadocia was hidden just behind the jagged hills and cliffs. Horse’s hooves sounded behind her, crunching over rocks and dirt, but she continued to run with all her might. She had to get away. Lord, help!
She had always been fast on her feet, but there was no way she could outrun a horse.
The man called Alexander caught her around the waist, swung her up and she found herself aboard his horse. “What were you thinking?” he said, his voice harsh against her ear. “You could have killed yourself.”
“Let me go!” she shouted, clawing his arms and hands.
He slid off the horse, taking her down with him. She ran, but he grabbed her arm and swung her around. She pushed and struggled against him, and he flattened her back against his torso. He braced her around the waist, holding her against him as he unbound the belt holding up her tunic. She screamed. What was he going to do? The skirt to Pappous’s tunic fell, covering her legs as they should, and gripping both her wrists severely in one hand, he tied them with the cord of her belt. He wrapped them together so tight, the tips of her fingers tingled.
“This ought to keep you out of trouble,” he said, speaking between clenched teeth. “It’s one thing to run from your husband, but an entirely different matter when you steal a man’s horse. Especially that of a sheik.”
“If that’s the case, it shouldn’t have been so easy for me to steal him.”
Now that her hands were bound, he swung her around to face him.
She swallowed from the shards of fury in his eyes. Would he kill her? Flog her? “I wasn’t trying to steal your horse,” she whispered.
“Could have fooled me,” he said.
“I was going to get help! I didn’t want you to kill Titus!”
“Titus held his own.” Alexander raked a hand through his loose hair, still holding her by one of her arms. The sun caught on his ebony strands, and she couldn’t help but notice the scratches on his hands and forearms. Would he strike her?
“Your horse wouldn’t stop,” she said, hoping to convince him she meant no harm. “I couldn’t make him stop.” She trembled as she recalled the fight between him and Titus. “You two were going to kill each other. I had to get help.”
“Does that mean you were afraid I might die?” He smirked. “Are you convinced yet that I’m Alexander? The one who pulled you out of the Tiber?”
“Where’s Titus?” she asked, fearing the worst.
To her horror, the man lifted her and tossed her over his shoulder. With her bound fists, she pounded on his back. “Put me down!”
“I will in a bit.” He clucked his tongue and the horse followed. “The last thing I wanted to do was tie you up, but it looks like I’m going to have to resort to extreme measures. Until you realize who I am, that is. I’m sure once you figure it out, I won’t have to force you to marry me.”
The blood rushed to her face and she kicked her legs, but he slammed them under one of his powerful arms and held her fast. “I told you. If you tried to fight me, I’d win.”
“Where’s Titus?” she shouted into his backside.
“He’s with my men.” Alexander whistled. “He did well to protect you, and I’ll be sure to thank him, but that’s no longer his task.”
Surely that meant Titus was alive. “Where is he?” She pounded his back but found it difficult with her hands bound. She kept pushing against him just so she could breathe.
“Really, I’m amazed you were able to stay on Nefer.” He began chuckling. “Shows you’re a natural. You’re lucky he didn’t buck you off. That’s normally his response to riders who aren’t his master.”
“I don’t ever want to see that horse again,” she said, recalling the terrifying ride.
Alexander laughed, his voice echoing off the boulders behind them.
Defeated, Elianna quit struggling. “I can’t breathe in this position. Please, put me down. I won’t fight you anymore.”
“Good boy.” Alexander tugged something out of his tunic. She saw from her upside down position the dark legs of a horse, the wild black stallion. She shivered. “Good,” he said as he gave the horse a date.
Elianna pushed against Alexander’s back to take in another breath.
“Nefer, this is Elianna,” Alexander said, and he gave Elianna’s rump a solid whack.
She gasped. “How dare you!”
“Elianna, this is Nefer.” He swung her up, sending the world spinning through her head as she landed on the black horse. “Nefer means beautiful in Egyptian. Beautiful, meet Beautiful.” He stood there, grinning at Elianna, gesturing to them both.
“I don’t want to be up here,” she said, ready to squirm off the beast, but all too quickly, Alexander mounted behind her and held her on.
Gripping the horse’s mane, she nearly cried, “I don’t want to ride.”
“Little Flame.” Alexander nuzzled her neck, his beard tickling her skin. “Don’t be afraid this time. I won’t let you fall.”
He kicked the stallion, whistling to the other horse as it followed, and they headed back for the city.
But instead of entering by the gates, they skirted around the wall until they came to what could have been considered another village, a village of Bedouin tents. Numerous horses grazed in the distance, not far from the hills and in the grassy plains. They made their way to the two largest tents, ornate with colorful designs and small flags at the corners.
He dismounted with her and untied her hands. Blood flowed back into her fingers and she sighed with relief. As he escorted her beneath an awning to one of the larger tents, two women met them, one smiling brightly and holding a curtain open for them to enter.
He escorted her into the center of the large chamber, released her, and then walked back out the door, barking orders for men to take care of the horses.
Elianna gasped at the wealth surrounding her. Draperies and ornate curtains hung in rich swag materials with gold tassels. The square ceiling closed around her, above her and met in a high point in its center. The floor spread out before her with plush, colorful carpets, sporting tables and statues. In the far corner of the room was a partition carved with intricate floral designs. Perhaps a place to change. But what sent her head spinning was the bed full of giant pillows, thick satin blankets and colorful tassels adorning the center of the room. It would be like sleeping on clouds, and if she weren’t so frightened, terrified really, she might enjoy falling, arms spread, onto its lushness. Instead, she prayed the man who just left her would stay far, far away.
The man pretending to be Alexander filled the doorway. Suddenly the room didn’t feel quite so large. He stepped back inside, and she searched for something to defend herself, or throw at him. All she could find were the giant pillows, so she picked one up and hid behind it—as if it could protect her. “Where are my things?” she asked, more like demanded.
He motioned to a chair with his chin, and she saw her bag sitting on it. Good. Everything had better be in it.
Alexander took another step toward her.
“Don’t!” she shouted, ready to throw the pillow at him and backing into one of the tables. She moved alongside it so it wouldn’t hinder her from running. “Don’t come any closer.”
Her worst fears had come true. She was in a harem. She’d heard enough that she knew all about their sensual dangers.
“I will not be a part of your harem,” she whispered, ashamed to even say the word.
Alexander’s brows rose and his eyes widened as if surprised. “You think … this—” He motioned to the space around him. “You think this is a harem?” He laughed out loud, so hard it made the hairs on her neck and arms stand at attention. “I don’t have a harem. You are my wife. I’ve been searching for you for four years, and over those long, arduous years, I’ve collected these things so you would be comfortable when I found you. I have very few female servants,
and have only kept the few I have for you, my darling wife.”
“I am not your wife!”
“Honestly, Elianna.” He ran his hand down his face and released a morose chuckle. “I feel like we’ve been married for years and all without the enticing benefits that come with marriage.”
“How dare you!” Elianna grabbed the nearest bauble and threw it at him, but he caught it in his fist. He kept his hand in the air and glared at her.
Hugging the giant pillow, she swallowed and stepped back several paces.
“I feel like I’ve been dragged to Hades and back since we met on the docks.” His jaw ticked. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve searched for you? How long I’ve wondered if you were even alive?” He gritted his teeth as he marched toward her. She gasped and scurried from him, but he stopped at the table and held up the item she’d just thrown, a dove and not an idol as she suspected. “This I got in Athens … for you.” He picked up another ornament, a mother holding a child on her hip. “And this I found in Corinth.” He motioned around him. “The drapes came from Ephesus, and the rugs are from Alexandria.”
Those were all the places she’d been. How many years back was Corinth? Pappous said that Paulus had been following them for two years. Was Corinth two years ago, or three? He was so passionate, so convincing. Dare she believe? Dare she trust?
“I have been collecting all these items, thinking you might like them, because I wanted you to be comfortable when I finally did find you. And then you take off on my stallion, nearly getting yourself killed!” He sliced his hand through the air, his eyes flashing. “Do you have any idea how easily he could have bucked you off? You could have ended up under his hooves. He could have taken your life!” He snapped his fingers. “Like that!”
She stepped back from him. “Release me at once.” She said the words, but they had lost their conviction.
“And where will you go? Where will you run?”
Aunt Sarah in Germania, she thought, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “Where’s Titus? I want Titus.”