by Jackie Ivie
She scratched at the scabbing on her shoulder as she looked about her. She considered what she knew of Kareem’s reputation, as told by Harvey. Kareem Turiz was known as a murderous sort, not the kind of man one tangled with. That was good for her, since he was her protector. She repeated the assurance to herself as they rode through the streets, peopled with all nationalities.
“Kareem!” A woman called the name loudly from the crowd. “You’ve returned for me!” It was a Niger woman, flashing so much of her skin that Averill’s blushed.
“Ah, Conique! You’re more beautiful than ever.”
Tenny dismounted from his horse and pulled the woman into an embrace. Averill lifted her gaze above them as the embrace lengthened. With as little as the Niger woman wore, Averill looked overdressed, even without the outer cloak.
“I’ve missed you, Kareem. And you were gone forever. Don’t you even feel for me?” The woman whispered the words loudly. “Perhaps you’ll come to me later?”
Kareem gestured to Averill, who did her best to look with disdain at the still-embracing couple. “Alas…I’m taken, sweet Conique.”
“Bah! A pale-skinned child! She has nothing to keep you interested, but I do.”
She pulled back and danced a few steps, sinuously clinging to his legs. Averill’s eyes widened even further at the display. The woman seemed emboldened by the cheers about them.
“Can she dance to please a man such as you?” the dark-skinned woman asked.
Tenny grinned, apparently enjoying the situation. Averill noticed the rest of their band grouping about them, horses restlessly pawing the ground as they were denied their well-deserved water.
“Well, woman! You heard Conique!” Kareem yelled out. “Can you dance to please me?”
Laughter followed his statement, coming from more men than before. The crowd was enlarging, coming from all sorts of side streets to surround them.
“The horses await their rest, Kareem, and I my sup.” She spoke in Italian and watched his grin broaden.
“Ah! She accepts your challenge, Conique. We’ll make a display of it! How does that sound?”
Averill’s gasp was drowned out by the noise Kareem’s words caused. She watched as he turned to the Niger woman and walked down the street with his arm looped about her waist. Averill was left to follow, her horse snorting in disapproval. Averill wanted to snort, too.
Stupid man. She’d never danced. He had to know of it. It was forbidden to learn such things at the mission.
They entered another street. It was wider, but so filled with tents, there wasn’t much space to move. The street opened into a large square, surrounded on three sides by two-story sandstone buildings. And everywhere were fires, strewn throughout the alleyways, flickering on the walls before sending light toward the inhabitants. There were even more people in the square. Worse, most of those milling about had the same looks and manners as Kareem and his band.
“Ah, my good friend, Salazar!”
Kareem put his head back to yell it. She hadn’t known he had such a loud voice. It projected through the area, stopping most of the noise.
“It’s been some time! I’m surprised that Conique would keep company with a worthless renegade like you!”
The last of his words silenced every bit of noise about them. Even the music died. And then a form moved from under an awning, becoming a man covered in animal skins. He wears furs in such heat? Ugh.
“Conique, where did you find such an excuse for a man? In a sultan’s harem?”
The man’s voice was high and he spoke in a singsong fashion, probably indicating Asian heritage. Averill wondered how Tenny – Kareem– would respond to such an insult. She had to remember his name! She held her breath as he approached Salazar. The two men were close in size. They stood, staring each other up and down for several tense moments. Then, to her complete surprise, they embraced.
The camp exploded with shouts and laughter, while musicians playing the sitar started their haunting refrain again.
“Is there room to camp beside you?” Kareem yelled.
“I’ll make room. You! Move your tents farther if you wish to still own them on the morrow!”
The fur-covered man gestured to some young men, and Averill watched them scurry to obey, although they glanced sullenly at Kareem’s group as they did. And then Kareem brought Salazar over to her. Averill’s nose was assaulted by the smell of his skins. She tried not to pinch it. She noticed the horse wasn’t as polite. He tossed his head and turned his body sideways.
“Where did you find such a beauty?” Salazar whistled.
Averill ducked her chin.
“Stabled with Sheik Al-Hassen. I paid a fair price, too.”
“You paid? Surely, you jest.” He slapped Kareem’s back.
“Did I say in coin? The man saddled me with a dancing girl.” Tenny pointed to Averill.
She glared at them with as much disdain as she could command. She was surprised at how easy it was. The man named Salazar was looking her over insolently. The silence grew despite all the celebrating around them.
“Not much to look at,” Salazar said finally. “Can she dance?”
“She has challenged Conique.”
Averill snorted. She couldn’t help it.
“She has? I think I shall enjoy that. Come.” He reached for her.
Averill shrank back, aghast at the filth ingrained into his palms.
“She belongs to me, Salazar.” Kareem’s voice had lowered. Gotten quieter. It stopped Salazar. He lowered his arms and turned back.
“Are you willing to wager on it, my friend?”
“I’m always one for a wager, Salazar. You know me that well.”
The same stone-weight she’d thought long gone moved, lodging in her throat, making it difficult to breathe, let alone swallow.
“You’d wager with the girl, then?”
“I thought she wasn’t much to look at, my friend.”
“First impressions are sometimes false.” The man shrugged. The movement of the skins was the only reason she could tell. “She looks so fresh and untouched. I ask myself how that is possible, and then I realize she hasn’t yet had a man. I look forward to remedying that.”
“Take care with your words, Salazar. I might take offense again,” Kareem replied.
Salazar rubbed at his chin for a moment, glanced at Averill again and spoke.
“Well. You need to take better care of your possessions, my friend.” Salazar turned and walked away.
“Averill. Please. Stop shaking. You’re safe.”
Tenny whispered the words as he reached for her. She slid into his arms and clung to his neck with shaking arms.
“You needn’t worry. I’ll protect you. I promise. Always.”
He reached a hand to lift her veil to her forehead, and then, in front of everyone, he lowered his head and kissed her. Surprise, denial, and wonder battled within her. For a moment she didn’t dare move. His lips were the same, but it felt even more incredible. Because of where they were and what he’d just said. Always.
“Take care,” he muttered as he lifted his head. “You forget my mouth scar.”
Averill giggled.
“Laugh at me, will you?”
“I can walk, Ten…uh, Kareem,” she said.
“I just kissed you for a reason, Averill. I’m carrying you for the same one. I’m making certain every man here knows you’re mine. I wouldn’t like another challenge to it.” He spoke in Italian at her ear.
“Then why have you chosen to have me compete with that Conique woman?” she asked in what she hoped was an even tone.
“Careful, your censure is showing. No kept woman would refer that way to another of her kind.”
“Avoiding the answer won’t make the question go away. Why do you wish me dancing…before everyone?”
“It isn’t for the reason you think.”
Her eyebrows rose and then she frowned. “You put words in my mouth and now thoughts in my mind?
”
He sighed, and she rose and fell with it. “If there’s a spectacle to watch, and wine flows freely enough, appearances are more easily deceiving. It’s not the first time I’ve used such a ploy, I assure you.”
“It won’t go well with you that I can’t dance, will it?”
Her heart was thudding painfully against the pearl top. She was surprised he didn’t feel it. It wasn’t the first time he’d used such a ploy? Did he usually consort with dancing girls, then?
“You can’t? I wish you’d said something earlier.”
“How would I have known to do that?”
“I’m jesting, Averill. It won’t be much of a contest. Everyone already knows that. Why do you think I wouldn’t take Salazar’s bet? No one dances as well as Conique. You only have to sway a bit to the music. You can do that, can’t you?”
That’s the stupidest thing he’s asked yet.
He carried her into his tent before setting her on her feet. Averill saw a lamp had been lit and placed on a trunk near the entry. She wondered what purpose that served.
“But—?”
“Hush.”
He stopped her words with another kiss. A shocking one. He pulled her right against him, molding her body to his, and took her lips. And everything on her awakened. There wasn’t anything she could do to prevent it.
He broke the kiss. It was a moment before she opened her eyes to see why. Before then, she already knew the reason. He was unwinding her cloak. He put a finger to his mouth for silence, before tossing her covering to the ground. The orange one followed. He didn’t need to request her silence. She didn’t know what to say. Do. Or even what to think.
Tenny moved his finger from his lips to trace her exposed midriff. She gasped in surprise. And that was before he moved beneath her pearl top. Shock widened her eyes as he reached a breast, his touch sending waves of shivers. Averill kept her eyes on his, refusing even to blink. She couldn’t tell what expression he wore, since the light was at his back, but it didn’t look like pleasure.
It looked closer to panic.
Her flesh awoke, pushing into his palm as he cupped her, and she couldn’t stop the moan. Tenny captured the sound in another kiss. His free hand went to her buttocks, lifting her, holding her. She was beyond thought. Her body sent liquid warmth everywhere. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pushed the ghotra from his head, and ran her fingers through his hair.
“Enough! Christ!”
Averill felt the ground jolt her feet as he set her down roughly.
“Damn it, Averill, enough! I can’t stand more. I can’t!” He was panting, and his chest was heaving with each breath.
“But—?”
“We’ve given enough of a display for one night! All right? Now, none will doubt that Kareem claims you!”
He stalked out of the tent door flap, slapping it shut behind him with a sense of fury. So…that was it. She’d been gullible. Again. It even explained the lamplight. It had been placed there to make their movements easily visible. He’d put on a show. As part of their act. When would she learn? Averill sucked in air and pushed the hurt down. It was easier than she suspected. She just had to remind herself that Tenny was a brute. And a fool. And he was in for a surprise. They all were. Averill was musical. It was one of her talents. And so, tonight she had three choices.
Hide in the tent and pretend an illness.
Sway in place like a fool.
Dance.
Her eyes narrowed in thought. She was actually looking forward to this.
~ ~ ~
Averill sat at the tent’s opening as Conique neared the bonfire. They’d created a blaze that lit the entire street. The crowd was standing for a better view as well as lack of room. Spectators also lined the roofs above the street. She rubbed her hands together to warm them. Being nervous wasn’t going to help.
Drums started, and so did a strange windpipe. Averill gasped as Conique tossed off her cloak, revealing the wide weave of her golden skirt, a large golden necklace, and absolutely nothing else. Thunderous cheers rose from the crowd, and the woman hadn’t even started dancing.
Averill shut the flap and scooted to the rear of Kareem’s tent, trying to ignore the throbbing sounds outside. She smoothed down the silvery scarves about her legs, amazed still at her attire. And she had Harvey to thank.
The man really was a wonder, although she hated admitting it. When she asked him for a costume to dance in, he delivered a small top of black silk embroidered with silvered threads. Small tassels made from the same thread hung from her bodice to swirl about her belly. She had a hammered silver belt worn low on her hips. She wasn’t sure if it was supposed to fit that low, but she was too slender for it to stay on her waist. The outfit included an abundance of shimmery scarves that draped from her belt, making a skirt that slit open to reveal her legs whenever she moved. There was a snake-shaped, silver ankle bracelet to climb from ankle to knee up one leg, as well.
And somewhere Harvey had found a headband fashioned with long, black hair streaming from it. The feel of the hair around her shoulders and back felt strange. That was odd. She’d worn her hair that long for many years before Father Timmons had died, and Father Sanders took his place.
The drums rose to a loud crescendo, there was a moment of silence, and then wild cheers and applause broke out. Perhaps Averill had been optimistic about dancing against this Conique. Such primitive dances were a gift to some women at birth.
“It’s your turn, Averill,” Harvey whispered. “I instructed the drummers on your tempo. Good luck.”
She stood and nodded her thanks. She knew why he’d helped her. She didn’t care. She’d used it. He wanted her to be a success so perhaps she’d choose this future, and leave his beloved captain be. Her lips twisted as she slid from the tent. Almost instantly, the crowd became silent again. Many eyes looked her way, but only the eyes of one man mattered. She searched for him.
Kareem sat beside the fur-covered Salazar, and that Conique was perched atop his lap! In that revealing outfit! Averill felt gooseflesh form all the way to her toes. They carried anger. Spite. Jealousy. She refused to pinpoint the direct cause, she was only grateful. It cleared her head. Straightened her back. Set her lips. Her head held high, she took a place before the fire.
Drums began, softer and more melodic than before. Averill spun, her head falling back as she looked up at a multitude of stars in an incredibly black sky, then she closed her eyes and let the beat fill her. She’d never seen a full street dance, so she invented her own steps, sometimes sinking to the ground before twirling back up. At each full circle around the bonfire, she pulled another scarf from her skirt and tossed it to the crowd.
A high-pitched note joined the drums. Averill slit her eyes to follow it. It took her from the darkness of the street to her secret kingdom, where her knight, Andrew Tennison, held out his arms to her.
She was down to her last scarf. And then hard arms encircled her, stopping the music and her motion as she reached for the final offering. Averill’s eyes opened.
It was Tenny.
“I love you.”
He whispered the words just before his mouth slammed down on hers. The crowd roared, almost obliterating Conique’s loud screech of anger. Averill clung to him, blending her near-nakedness against his burnoose.
He loves me!
He lifted his head. “Harvey? My horse. Now.”
She heard the command without understanding. Tenny placed her in the space before the saddle, mounted behind her, and then lifted her onto his lap. The robes of his burnoose went around her.
“I can’t stand it any longer, Averill. I love you. I need you. I want you. And I have nothing left to fight any of that.”
And then the horse beneath them moved, adding pressure to his kiss.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Halt, Sabin.” The horse obeyed Tenny’s verbal command. Averill lifted her head from his shoulder.
“Where...are we?” she asked.
“A friend’s.” He knocked with his foot against a wood door.
“Kareem!” A woman’s voice called out the name. “I’ve been awaiting your visit. Your man stopped by earlier to borrow the most interesting assortment of...never mind. I see that you found them.”
It was an older woman. Averill looked at the painted face before hiding her own against Tenny’s shoulder again.
“Is the bath readied?” Kareem asked.
“Prepared for whatever time you decided to come. I didn’t know you’d have company. You should have warned me.”
“Neither did I.”
He pushed past her and went through several hangings that Averill assumed served as walls. All about them, sounds of laughter and enjoyment sounded, while the sitar played, and her nose wrinkled at the smell of something sweet, like opium.
She refused to look up. He’d arranged to come to this place at night...without her? Furthermore, he’d arranged a bath? That must’ve been why he made sure every man knew she had his protection earlier. He’d intended to leave her back there alone.
She stiffened.
“Oh Averill, where did you learn to dance?”
He whispered it against her ear when he stopped. Then he compounded the effect by licking the spot below her earlobe, making her squeal.
“Well?”
Averill hunched her shoulder up to stay the shivers. Tenny wasn’t having any of it. He maneuvered his chin into the space below her jaw, kissing his way along the barely knit flesh there.
“Tenny! I mean Kar…eem! You must...stop. You must –.” She was gasping through the words, making little sense.
“Oh, Averill, didn’t you listen to a thing I said? I am not stopping. I am not letting you go. I can’t. I’m beyond that point. I love you. I have never said that before to another woman. And I never will. Cease struggling.”