“You don’t have to act like a guard dog, either,” she tossed over her shoulder, seeming to feel the weight of her brother’s eyes or knowing him well enough to instinctively guess what he was doing.
“Argh!” Bagrat spat in frustration, but he obliged by walking back to his spot and watching from a distance, though still obviously anxious for Bashea’s safety. When he wasn’t watching her, Bagrat occasionally shot Tahj dark looks.
Tahj turned his head to watch Bashea, too, as she walked shakily out of the ring of the firelight, wishing he’d said no when she asked if he wanted more water. After a time, he could take it no longer.
“Excuse me,” he said to Radeem as he got up to leave, but the captain was in a loud discussion with Gaspard and another man Tahj did not recognize, and didn’t even seem to hear him.
Tahj backed out of the firelight immediately, thinking it best if Bagrat didn’t see him approaching Bashea. He skirted the others in a wide circle, moving as stealthily as possible.
“Bashea,” he whispered loudly when he got near her.
Bashea jumped and squealed, turning in his direction and raising the gourd over her head as if to hurl it at him or send it crashing down onto his head.
“Bashea, it’s me. Tahj,” he said hastily. He stepped out of the dark, and she lowered her hands. He could see she was shaking.
“Oh, Tahj! You scared me.” She folded her arms around herself, one hand still clutching the gourd by the neck. They both turned to see if anyone had noticed and could easily make out the hulking form of Bagrat making long strides in their direction.
“I’m sorry, Bashea. I-I didn’t mean to…” He touched her arms in an effort to still her trembling.
“No, Tahj, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For what is about to happen,” she explained as Bagrat came within hearing distance.
“Get your filthy hands off her!”
Tahj unconsciously took a step back. “What? I-I—”
“Bagrat, don’t be a fool. He wasn’t hurting me.”
But Bagrat wasn’t listening to her. He was within inches of Tahj now, but was still screaming, his fists clenched. “You think because you are a prince you can just have whatever you want?”
“No!” Tahj cried, shocked.
“Bagrat!” Bashea took hold of one his massive arms. “He had nothing to do with—”
The huge man turned on her. “You think he had nothing to do with it? He’s the prince, isn’t he?”
“Yes, but—”
“And they were his men?”
“No. I mean, yes, they were. But he is not to blame.”
Heedless of his sister’s words, Bagrat took hold of the sides of Tahj’s vest and lifted him off of his feet. “No one touches my sister, do you understand? I’m going to enjoy this. I’ve been waiting for a chance to be able to—”
“Bagrat!” Bashea was almost being lifted now, too, as she clutched at the bulging muscles of her brother’s arm. “He did not hurt me. He helped me.” She stopped, looking at Tahj as if she’d forgotten Bagrat was even there. “I was wrong. That’s what I wanted to tell you this morning. I was wrong to say those things to you when you came to my tent.”
“You went to her tent?” Bagrat growled, and Tahj didn’t even see the punch coming. The next thing he knew, he was laying on the ground wondering if his jaw was still connected to his face.
“Bagrat!” Bashea said in a sort of shocked whisper. “He is a prince, for Arishtat’s sake!” She glanced back toward the fire and saw a few curious heads had begun to turn their way. She took Bagrat by the shoulders and began to steer him back toward the feast. “You are going to go back now, and you will mind your own business. If I need your help, I’ll ask for it.”
He paused, and his big face crumpled like paper thrown on a fire. “But you did need my help, Bashea, and I wasn’t there for you.” He laid his forehead on the top of her head, holding her arms. “I wasn’t there.”
To Tahj’s astonishment, the behemoth sounded as if he was going to cry. Bagrat felt responsible; Tahj could understand that. Feeling responsible for what happened to Bashea was what was making him edgy when she had come to apologize to him. All he could think of was, how could she be apologizing after all she had been through? He couldn’t stand to hear her say it so he’d snapped at her, driving her away.
“It’s okay,” Bashea stuttered. “You couldn’t have…it happened too quickly… It’s not your fault,” she said, her voice a mere whisper.
Jahmeel ambled toward them and Bagrat straightened, sniffing and rubbing Bashea’s arms. Bashea dropped her head and drew a deep breath.
“Something amiss?” Jahmeel looked meaningfully at Tahj, who had just gotten to his feet.
“Everything is fine, Jahmeel,” Bashea answered. “Bagrat was just heading back to the group.” She gave her big brother a stern look and he turned from her.
“Come on, Jahmeel.”
Jahmeel walked with him, but turned halfway back. “You coming, Bashea?”
“In a minute.”
“Did you get in a fight with him?” Jahmeel whispered loudly to Bagrat as they stalked off. “Can I hit him, too?”
“No. Come.”
Bashea turned to Tahj. “I’m sorry. You’re not hurt, are you?” Her hand went to the side of Tahj’s face sympathetically.
Tahj’s heart started beating frantically but he forced a smile. “I’m fine. I could have taken him, you know.”
Bashea grinned, not removing her hand. “He would have killed you.”
Tahj chuckled. Bashea dropped her hand, and he caught it in his own for a second. “You know, I think he’s scared of you.”
She glanced toward the firelight, her eyes twinkling. “He should be.” She shifted her eyes to Tahj and she smiled wider. They began to stroll back toward the others, but Tahj still held her hand lightly. It felt comfortable and right, and this time Bashea didn’t pull away. After a few seconds Bashea stopped, turning to face him.
“I said those awful things to you because I was embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed?”
She nodded, looking down. “Embarrassed of crying out in my sleep. I didn’t want you to think I was weak.”
“Weak?” He laughed now. “Weak? You almost knocked me unconscious. I think the blow you gave me hurt more than Bagrat’s punch.”
She batted his arm lightly. “It did not.”
“Ouch,” he joked, rubbing his arm.
“Stop,” she said, laughing.
They continued to stroll leisurely, side-by-side, but they gazed into each other’s eyes for several seconds without saying anything as they walked. It felt so natural. Bashea thought for a moment how wonderful it would be if Tahj were not a prince, if he were just some boy she’d grown up with. Could they have fallen in love? She knew it was becoming dangerous for her to think like this, or even be around him, because she desired it more, and knew she couldn’t really have it. Still, one stolen moment like this, one moment to savor and wish things were different. Surely she deserved that, at least.
When Tahj looked ahead, she studied his profile as it was outlined by the firelight. Such a handsome face, such strong lines. And how good his hand felt as it gripped hers. He was a good man, like her father, like Bagrat, like Radeem. A good man with a good heart. She felt her own heart sigh, filled to capacity with a bittersweet longing for something clearly out of her reach.
As they drew nearer to the circle, Tahj stopped again. “You know, Bashea –” He looked at her, his eyes soft, voice husky. “:DI could never think of you as weak.” He ran the back of his hand down her cheek. “You are one of the strongest women I’ve ever known.”
Bashea stared into his eyes and felt her heart flutter helplessly.
Ahead of them, Jahmeel loudly cleared his throat. “You coming?” he asked pointedly, looking over his left shoulder as Bagrat looked over his right, glaring at them. Bashea and Tahj furtively broke apart.
; As soon as Kamran caught sight of Bashea, he called her over. Later, Bagrat and Jahmeel kept her so busy Bashea suspected they were purposefully trying to keep her away from Tahj. When the festivities finally broke up in the wee hours of the morning, Bashea searched for Tahj, but he was nowhere to be found. Discouraged, she headed to bed. Just as she was raising the flap of her tent, she heard familiar voices.
“Good night, my friend,” Tahj was saying to Radeem.
Radeem’s big, bass voice responded, “Good night.”
Bashea turned to find him, and just beyond Radeem, caught sight of Tahj. He stood like a mirror image to her, one hand holding the canvas of his tent back, pausing on his threshold. As the fire hadn’t been completely extinguished yet, Bashea could see the slow grin that split his face, and her own lips curved up in response. They stood for a second, frozen, until a bucket of water brought the light to a hissing end and they moved into their tents.
Radeem turned to go into his own tent, but his vision was blocked by Bagrat’s chest. He knew Bashea’s older brother had been watching Tahj with a hawk’s eye. Radeem raised his head to find the big man smiling down at him, though the smile looked odd. Jahmeel was lurking over his shoulder. Bagrat nodded in the direction of Tahj’s tent.
“What is going on between him and Bashea?”
Radeem chuckled. “You noticed, too?”
Bagrat seemed alarmed to have his suspicions confirmed. He leaned into Jahmeel and whispered, “She will not end up with a prince from Avistad while still wearing the cuts and bruises rendered by his men. And a prince, such as he, with a sheepherder’s daughter? The idea is absurd.”
Jahmeel nodded his agreement. Bagrat shook his head. “No,” he muttered a little louder. “Not with a prince of Avistad.”
Radeem raised an eyebrow, both amused and offended. He thought back to earlier in the evening, to an image of Bashea bending to fill Tahj’s cup, Tahj leaning forward. The body language was all there. “I’ll bet you forty Abbas.”
Bagrat snorted. “My coin purse is not that heavy, friend.”
Neither is mine, Radeem thought. “Twenty, then.”
Bagrat tugged on his beard, studying Radeem. His head inclined to Jahmeel’s again. “This is not to be. I will make sure of it, and take the stuffed one’s money.”
Jahmeel chuckled.
Bagrat addressed Radeem. “Deal.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next morning, Kamran summoned Bashea to the tent he was sharing with Jahmeel and Bagrat. As the sun was launching itself from the top of Mt. Sabalan up into the sky, she nervously scurried to her father’s tent, unsure of what to expect. When Bashea approached, she heard voices inside. Entering, she was surprised to see Tahj sitting next to her father on a rug in the middle of the tent. The tent was as colorful inside as it was bland on the outside. Thick, colorful rugs swathed the floor, and vibrant blankets and cushions sat on mattresses and couches. A quick glance around the tent told Bashea her brothers were gone, much to her relief.
“Prince Tahj,” she murmured with a smile, unable to move her eyes from his face for a moment.
“Good morning.” He smiled radiantly back, his white teeth gleaming in his tan face, a teacup and saucer held in his hands.
“Bashea, come, join us,” Kamran stated with a vague wave of his hand. “Prince Tahj has just asked to stay on here for a while.”
“He did?” Bashea exclaimed in surprise, turning back to Tahj.
He set his cup down hurriedly. “Only with the agreement I would earn my keep.”
Bashea’s eyes went wide, and she protested. “But Father, he is a prince—”
“It was not I who insisted on this,” he responded. “It was Prince Tahj himself.”
Bashea returned her eyes to Tahj, not hiding the question in them.
Tahj leaned forward to talk to her eagerly. “There is nothing back in Avistad for me now. I need some time to…put it all behind me…to grow…to decide what it is I want in life. Your father was gracious enough to offer me that time here.” Tahj paused for a second, seeming to consider how to word his answer. “But I cannot stay and take advantage of his hospitality without offering something in return. So—” He slapped his hands on his thighs decisively and began to rise. “—I have some sheepherding to learn.”
“But…” Bashea looked from him to her father. Things were moving too fast for her. She scrambled to her feet. “You’re not going with Bagrat and Jahmeel?”
Tahj nodded.
“Of course he is,” Kamran answered, looking confused as to why she would ask.
“I’ll be fine,” Tahj insisted.
“But…” She could see the faint bruising along his jaw line.
Tahj took her hand, angling his body so Kamran could not see him touch her. “I’ll be fine.”
Bashea noticed that Kamran watched the exchange with interest. She couldn’t worry about that now. She turned to follow Tahj out, meaning to talk some sense into him, but Kamran called her back.
“Wait, Bashea. There was something more I wanted to speak with you about.”
Bashea looked torn, but, as a dutiful daughter, she had no real choice. She came back to sit by her father, hoping to finish up with whatever business he had quickly, so she could catch up with Tahj.
“I wanted to speak with you…” He seemed uncomfortable with whatever subject he was about to broach, getting up to stride around the room. With a huff, he launched into his discussion. “Ladarius spoke with me last night. He wishes to court you.”
Bashea was half distracted, thinking about Tahj and the very real possibility her brothers would soon be using him as sparring partner, but her father’s statement got her attention.
“What?”
“Ladarius is a good man,” Kamran began, as if anticipating an argument. “And you are far too independent, Bashea. It is what I love about you, but it’s time you settled down.”
“But Baba—”
“He is your age, and he’s willing to overlook—” Kamran seemed to catch himself, then made a noise of aggravation. “I wish your mother were here. She would be much better at this,” he muttered. “He does not hold…what happened to you…against you.”
A light dawned in Bashea mind. “You mean he’s willing to take me although I am not a virgin,” she interpreted for him through gritted teeth.
Kamran’s eyebrows arched, seeming surprised by her boldness. He sputtered, “Not many men—”
“So I should just run to him, Baba, because he is willing to accept a soiled—”
“Now, Bashea, calm down.”
She stood, agitated. It was too much. To hear this from her father!
“I will not—”
“Bashea!” Kamran’s voice flayed Bashea like a whip. Her father hadn’t raised his voice to her in years. “This may be news to you, but you are a woman. And it is your place to be subservient to a man and obedient to your father.”
“But I—”
“Not another word!” he roared. But then, no doubt seeing how stricken she was, he took a deep breath, softening somewhat. “Bashea, I know this is not ideal, but it is what is best for you. Trust me. I need for you to be settled. Having lost your mother, I know time is fleeting. And even if you refuse to see it, I am not a young man any more.”
Bashea found she couldn’t speak through the chokehold of her emotions.
Kamran took her arms. She dropped her head and refused to look at him, but he put a fist under her chin to tilt her head up. It was then he saw the tears running down her face. “But you are crying!” Bashea rarely cried. Even when her mother died, she remained stalwart to provide strength to her siblings. And judging from the look on Kamran’s face, it was tearing at his heart. “It will work out in the end, Azizam.”
“No, Father,” she said, her voice choked, shaking her head. “I have to go.” She turned and fled, leaving Kamran standing there alone.
* * *
At noon, Bashea joined a group of women when they took
water to the upper meadow where her brothers and Tahj were tending the sheep. Sunlight tripped down the hillside, which was scattered with boulders, looking like feed-corn strewn by the giants. A stream bubbled merrily along on their right as they picked their way over the sloped ground, the temperature rising with each step as if it were attached to their heels.
Bashea’s heart was heavy as she mulled over the conversation with her father. Was she wrong to want more than a man who was“willing to overlook” what had happened to her in the past? Maybe she was being too hardheaded; maybe her choices had become more limited now. But, try as she might, she just couldn’t see herself making a home with a man she didn’t love. Perhaps her father was right—perhaps she was too independent. But whatever the case, Bashea knew she would have to convince her father, somehow, she’d be better off alone.
The upper meadow was relatively small, but like some magical oasis, the verdant
pasture land was perpetually made green by the waters trickling off the sides of the surrounding hills and flowing into its bowl-like harbor. Bashea breathed in the fragrant, fresh smell of grass and rich dirt, made sweeter by the fact it was so rarely she was able to enjoy it, since her lungs were usually full of dust and the grit of sand. It was almost as if she could breathe more freely here. Not only that, but it was also one of their better feeding grounds, one they tried to use sparingly to keep it lush, only going there when they were forced to retreat to the higher grounds by some outside threat. Far below, the sheep flecked the green plain like peaceful clouds hanging in a still sky. After a brief search, Bashea spotted Tahj off by himself, sitting on a large rock wedged into the crevice of the hillside, poking at the bottom of his sandals with a stick.
As Bashea rose higher and higher, deeper into the tree line, Tahj sat lost in thought as well in the meadow above. Radeem had stayed in bed, feeling ill after having a little too much to drink the night before, leaving Tahj at the mercy of the other herders. It was turning out to be a particularly hot day, the kind of day that left a constant, annoying trickle of sweat running uncomfortably down his body in some area or other. Tahj spit out some dirt, which had swirled into his mouth with the breeze, and gazed out over his surroundings. Strangely, he felt at peace here. The simple life of a sheepherder appealed to him. There was no weighty mantle of responsibility on his shoulders, no one watching for him to make a mistake, except for maybe Bagrat and Jahmeel. He let his eyes drift to where they sat in the shade of a cypress tree several yards below him, laughing loudly. Tahj knew winning them over was the key to Bashea’s hand and was determined to prove himself worthy to the pair, if it killed him. He rubbed his bruised chin as he contemplated his best course of action.
Taken by Storm (ROMANTIC REALMS COLLECTION) Page 11