by Sarah Monzon
What was Samlil looking for in my expression? Maybe he wished to fill me in on the events if I was still in the dark. “I am aware.”
“Are you?” His voice rose, though he tried to hide it. A little cautious. A little excited.
Alertness prickled my skin, but I cast my voice in a tone of no consequence. “Tell me, do you know who left those marks on my wife?”
“You do not know?”
A gleam entered his eye for a moment but then was gone. Had I imagined it?
“I do not.”
Samlil leaned against the cave’s wall in a languid manner. He lifted his hand and inspected his fingertips. An air of superiority hovered around him. He knew. He knew, and he reveled in the knowledge like a pig wallowing in the mud.
Though they twitched, I refused to allow my fingers to curl into themselves. To reveal that anything about my friend’s behavior set me on edge.
“Tell me, do you know why your wife was beaten?”
I had to swallow down the anger. Keep Falak, that consuming serpent of the underworld, inside. “I do.”
He let his hand drop. “And?”
“She is my wife.”
Nostrils flared, and Samlil pushed off the wall. “You will choose that…that…”
“Careful how you speak of my wife, Samlil.”
His face reddened as his lips compressed. “You will choose her over Allah?”
He held my gaze, challenging. That was not the choice in front of me. Prayers to Allah that was not the choice. But my conviction wavered, and doubt caused me to look away.
Samlil took a step toward me. “You know what the Qur’an requires of you.”
My head snapped up. “I know what you believe the Qur’an requires of me. I am beginning to think we do not interpret the honored book the same way, my friend.”
His body seized, then relaxed. He lifted his hands palm out, as if approaching a skittish stallion. “You love her. I understand.” His voice was placating. “You do not want to live without her. Then be as our father Abraham and take another woman. One you can make sons and heirs with. One that will prove to Allah and our tribe your faithfulness to him. Maybe then he will lift his hand of judgement from our necks and allow our flocks to flourish once more.”
A shuffle sounded from outside the cave, rocks falling and rolling down the mountainside. A camel brayed, then feet thudded to the ground.
“Don’t listen to him, Karim.” Hannah’s covered head popped into view around the mouth of the cave. She looked first at Samlil, then to me. Her shattered expression revealed the answer to the unasked question that had formed the moment she’d revealed her presence. She’d heard. How much, I wasn’t sure. If all, wouldn’t she rejoice over the knowledge that I loved her? Or would that declaration not be believed from another’s lips? Or perhaps overshadowed by the fact Samlil wished I would set her aside, diminish her title as wife, and take another.
That would never happen.
An evil twinkle blinked on Samlil’s face. A star quickly burning, then snuffed out in the night sky.
But the sky didn’t stay in darkness forever. It was chased by the vibrant rays of the morning sun casting light into every shadow. Understanding dawned in my consciousness, and a sickening twist squeezed my gut as I peered at the one who’d been my best friend. The one who’d simultaneously lifted a staff and dagger in hand, landing blows on Hannah’s back while jabbing a blade into my own.
His body swayed toward her, and my twisted gut tightened more. Twice I’d failed to protect Hannah. That would not be the case a third time.
I sharpened my gaze on her face, communicating my love with my eyes while I let my tongue lash like a whip. “Why did you come, wife?” I only prayed she’d listen with her heart and not her ears.
Samlil stilled, his lips tilting in a delighted grin.
Hannah faltered, her expression drowning in pain. She licked her lips, cut a glance to Samlil before raising her chin and looking back at me. “You left before you heard all you needed to.”
“I heard enough. Wait for me at Daher’s.” Please, Hannah. Turn around and get out of here.
“Karim—”
“Obey me at once.” My command echoed in the cavern, each time coming back to me with a slap. Hannah flinched, her eyes widening as if feeling the sting. But she didn’t move. Didn’t turn. Didn’t mount her camel. Didn’t leave.
“Know your place, woman.” Samlil sneered.
If possible, Hannah’s chin lifted even higher. “I do.” Her face turned until her gaze rested in mine. “It is with my husband.”
I looked at her and knew. The way I’d always known with her no matter the circumstances or situation. A silent connection that pulled us together, speaking though no words were spoken. We were adrift in our own private current, one that drove us toward each other and washed us away.
I’m not leaving, her look said. No matter what you say or how loud you bellow, I’m staying wherever you are.
The skin around her eyes softened as her scowl receded. She’d seen what I’d tried to hide. That I didn’t truly want her anywhere but by my side.
She turned back to Samlil, and the chords around my heart stretched toward breaking. Too soon she’d severed our connection, never seeing my silent direction to slip behind me. She was out in the open, exposed. A single leap away from being held in Samlil’s clutches.
“Did you tell Karim about the sheep?” Her question reeked of accusation.
I inched toward her, half wanting Samlil’s attention to remain on her so I could get closer and half wanting to draw him toward me and forget her entirely. I could care less about the sheep. Not when compared to Hannah’s life.
“Did you tell him how you’ve been poisoning them all along?”
Samlil’s arm thrust forward to his belt, and the sound of metal siding against leather filled my ears. I jumped, pulled my dagger from its sheath, and drove it upward horizontally to block his downward blow. Metal clashed, and my arm vibrated from the strike. With a shove, I drove his dagger from mine, pushed him from me.
He circled, and I pivoted to keep him in front of me, Hannah behind. I would be an impenetrable wall between the two. One that would protect my wife at any cost. And yet as part of me shored up my strength, pumped adrenaline through flexed muscles, another part bled out from the mortal wound of betrayal. “You, Samlil?”
His lips curled even more. Any feelings of love or friendship, whether genuine or faked, fell to the ground at his sandaled feet.
“Why?” The most anguished word of any language tore from my lungs.
“Though you were fool enough not to see what was right under your nose, do not lower your intelligence further in my eyes. You know the answer to your question.”
I did, and my heart broke for it. Gone was my childhood friend. A man bent on fighting a jihad now stood before me. The sun glinted off his steel blade, and I had no problem imagining a more powerful weapon in his hand. He’d taken his first steps as a wayward warrior through a more passive route, hoping to undermine and sabotage. A battle plan comprised from the mind more than muscle.
His fingers around the gold hilt of his dagger squeezed, and the weapon rotated. A whetted appetite toward violence could never be quenched. His eyes blazed. Falak was inside him as well, but Samlil had no control. The monster had consumed and now possessed.
He looked at me in a cold, hard stare. “For our friendship, I will spare you. But if you do not step aside, I will be forced to end your life along with hers.”
“No one will be dying this day, Samlil.”
“That is where you are wrong.” His jaw dropped. A mighty war cry charged from his mouth as he rushed toward me, his blade aimed at my belly.
I shifted my weight and leaned back. Gripped his wrist as the dagger sliced through the material of my thawb at my hip and spun him around. I tried to twist his arm up and back, but he pulled free of my grasp. He didn’t wait a second before attacking again. Short jabs this tim
e. Their mark to pierce my vital organs and spill the life flow from my body. Clang. My blade met Samlil’s upward thrust with a downward arc. Clang. Again.
I kept my breathing even, my attention focused. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Sweat beaded on Samlil’s brow. “Yet another area in which we differ.” He sliced his blade at my face. I deflected, our wrists slamming into one another. He sliced again, and I jumped back. If I didn’t disarm him, and soon, one of his attacks would eventually hit their mark.
When the hand with the dagger slowed to his side, I lunged for his wrist. Samlil crouched and jerked his hand back, but my reach was farther than his, and I was able to wrap my fingers around the lower portion of his arm. Using all my strength, I pulled his hand toward the outside of my hip, bringing his body closer to mine. His musky scent, a mixture of adrenaline and fear, filled my nostrils. I wanted nothing more than to push him away, but distance from an enemy wasn’t always the wisest course.
He struggled in my hold, and my arms quivered with the exertion of keeping him pinned to my side. I squeezed my grip as tightly as I could. If I could press tight enough, his fingers would loosen around the dagger hilt and it would drop to the ground.
Hannah’s shouts penetrated my hearing as if from a long distance, but I closed my ear to them. Any waver of focus and I could lose more than this fight.
Samlil wrapped his other arm around my neck and shoved my head down at the same time as he brought up a knee. Pain exploded from my nose, lights danced in my vision, and my hold broke. I stumbled backward as a metallic liquid washed down the back of my throat. Blood dropped over the curve of my top lip. I shook my head to try and regain the sharpness of my sight, the dark and bright spots fading in time to see the sharp edge of Samlil’s blade whooshing down on me. I brought my arm up, the skin on my forearm slicing open from his attack. I sucked in a breath through my teeth. Took another step back.
Samlil came at me again, this time the back of his fist swiping and colliding with mine. My hand opened, and my dagger skittered to the floor with a clang. He kicked it across the cave, an evil grin twisting his mouth.
“I should have done this a long time ago, found a way to cleanse our people of the immoral corruption the Americans brought to our family.” The dagger rose. “You should have found a way, Karim. But you didn’t. Instead you lay with the enemy. Now your immortal judgement will be the same as theirs. Goodbye, my friend.”
His free hand cupped the back of my neck, and with quick foresight I saw the scene play out. In another second, his blade would plunge into my stomach.
Chapter 31
Hannah
I wasn’t sure what happened first, my scream or the thrust of the knife. My ears rang with the sound of my cries and the pumping of my heart. I stared, eyes wide though tears still coursed down my cheeks. Two bodies lay in a heap atop each other, a crescent of light outlining the destruction, the handle of a knife sticking from the back of the top person.
“Karim!” I rushed forward. Had to know. Was he still alive? Did Samlil’s dagger protrude from my husband’s body like the one along the betrayer’s spine?
Who had thrown the knife? Where had it come from? At the moment, I didn’t care. Even if the angel with the flaming sword who’d caused Balaam’s donkey to stop along the road had materialized to release the fatal blow, I didn’t care. None of it mattered. Not when I didn’t know if Karim lived.
I fell to the ground beside the two men, got the heels of my palms under Samlil’s shoulder, and pushed with all my might. But my strength was no match for Samlil’s dead weight. His shoulder lifted a little, but the men still lay chest to chest.
“Dear God, please don’t let him be dead.” How could I get Samlil’s body off Karim? If I grabbed his heels and pulled to slide him off, would that cause more damage if Karim was hurt?
A shadow fell over us, and I looked up. A tall man with a full beard and a red-and-white checked keffiyeh towered above. He looked familiar. Yes I’d seen him before with the flocks.
“Please.” I begged, my voice cracking. “Please help me.”
Without a word, he straddled the bodies and bent at the knees, his elbows hooking under the hollow pits of Samlil’s arms. The man lifted and pulled Samlil off of Karim.
Against the stark whiteness of his thawb, the pool of red widened at Karim’s side. The weave of fabric soaked in the crimson liquid took on a vibrancy that reached into my lungs and snatched the breath from my body. I reached forward and plunged my fingers through the slice in the fabric, pulling my hands apart, a satisfying rip sounding in the hollow space. I pulled again, widening the tear enough to see my husband’s side from the bottom of his ribs to the top of his sarwal that rested at his hips. A cut about six inches long traveled from the curve of his rib to the bend of his waist. Blood oozed out in a continuous flow, and I winced. If only Dad were here.
But he wasn’t. I was. With a prayer, I closed my eyes and covered the wound with my hands, applying pressure to help stem the blood flow.
A groan pressed through Karim’s compacted lips, and his body shifted under my hands.
Praise God! He’s alive!
My hands lifted as they started their glorious journey to his face. His beautiful, wonderful face.
But Karim’s mouth twisted, and his head listed to the side, causing my hands to still, hovering above his chest. I wanted to thread my fingers through his closely trimmed beard. Shower his lips with a thousand kisses. Whisper to him how much I loved him and how thankful I was he was still alive.
I cut a glance back to his side. Blood spurted out like an underground spring emerging from the ground. If I didn’t stop the flow, he’d lose too much. I leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then replaced one of my hands over the wound. The long lengths of material from his thawb would serve as a bandage, his legs still covered modestly by his sarwal underneath.
A knife entered my peripheral vision, and I sucked in a breath, my pulse kicking me in the chest. My eyes flew upward and landed on the shepherd.
“If it is okay?” he asked as he pointed to my unconscious husband.
I nodded and shifted to the side. “Shukraan.”
He knelt beside me and sliced through Karim’s clothing faster than I could have done. Long strips of material were handed to me, and then he helped lift Karim so I could wind the bandages around his middle. Under his back, over his belly, again and again.
Karim shifted again with a groan, and his eyes fluttered open. Ever dark, they seemed midnight with the dilation of his pupils. He blinked to focus and lifted his head off the hard ground, turning his face toward me. The painful twist of his mouth slackened as he took me in. “My treasure,” he breathed.
“You’re going to be okay.” My voice caught, and I wiped at an errant tear that escaped. Truth be told, I wasn’t sure. Doctor’s daughter though I be, I didn’t know all that much about anatomy. Samlil could have nicked an artery or something. There was a lot of blood. But I had to believe that he’d be okay, and even more importantly, Karim had to believe it.
Karim nodded, then let his head fall back to the ground. He looked up, noticed the other man for the first time.
“Mahabat.”
“It’s good to see I wasn’t too late. For you or the sheep.”
My chin jerked in his direction. “You knew about the sheep?”
Mahabat ignored me. Didn’t even look in my direction. “Samlil had an accomplice.” He spoke to Karim alone. “I’ve taken care of him as well.”
Karim tried to sit up, but I pushed his shoulder back to the ground.
His eyes flicked to me in that unreadable way of his. If he were upset with me that I cared more for his health than for him showing strength at this time, then so be it. I wasn’t going to let him bleed out simply because he didn’t want to appear weak to another man.
Karim’s hand lifted. “The same way you took care of Samlil?”
Mahabat bent over Samlil’s still form
and pulled his long knife from the dead man’s back. The nine-inch blade gleamed red. I turned my face away.
“They try to kill my sheep, I kill them.” Mahabat shrugged like it was a small matter to take another man’s life. Two men’s lives.
Karim licked his lips, the only sign of his struggle. But I knew. Felt the queasiness in my own stomach that churned in his own. That struggle of gratefulness for saving Karim’s life and grief over the loss that had been both necessary and unnecessary.
I squeezed Karim’s bicep and looked up at Mahabat again. The man sheathed his long knife, then looked out of the mouth of the cave. Whether he wished to ignore me or not, he no longer had a choice.
“We need to get Karim back to the village.”
I felt Karim’s bicep harden under my touch, knew he thought to sit up, even walk out on his own strength. I put my weight into my hands to hold him down and continued to talk to the shepherd. “He needs to stay as still as possible so the bleeding doesn’t start up again.”
Not even a look in my direction, but Mahabat stepped up above Karim’s head, bent, and hooked his elbows under Karim’s shoulders just as he’d done with Samlil.
“Careful!”
Mahabat’s brows dipped at my outburst, and a second later Karim was on his feet. Mahabat moved to Karim’s side.
Karim’s face thundered a mixture of pain, indignation, and warning. I stepped up and lifted his arm, draped it over my neck. Though it would be better if Mahabat could carry Karim, I wasn’t sure if the sheikh’s pride could bear that burden, or the shepherd Karim’s weight.
Mahabat mimicked my position on Karim’s other side, and the three of us shuffled into the full light, pausing at the rim of the cave’s mouth.
The camel stood where I’d left her, my husband’s truck a few yards below that. If we could get him to the Toyota, we could lay him in the bed. Not the most comfortable, but our best option. But first we had to traverse the path made up of rounded rock and ledges.