“I mean, hum-hmm…Sorry, Your Majesty.” Sam’s eyes gleamed with merriment. His own narrowed at the appellative. Samuel cleared his throat, his look not nearly as contrite as his words. “It’s not easy to negotiate with these people. Why, they have to toast every little point in an agreement.”
Alec’s throat had never felt so dry.
“And what little “points” have you been agreeing to?” Alec deliberately questioned with a heavy accent on the word. “While your “King” has been relaxing here in these luxurious accommodations,” he could feel his temper rising as he indicated the small space with his hand for emphasis.
“It’s all rather hard to explain.”
“Humor me,” Alec replied without much of any. “Do you have any idea how long this day has been?”
“Truly, I’m sorry. I thought it would be a short meal, but the courses just kept coming. Sheik Allehbaba Kazirrah really knows how to pack it in.”
Alec groaned at the news. “Samuel!” he intervened, “I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning!”
“Oh well, as to that,” contrite, Samuel came forward. “You must be starved.” He then proceeded to pull a flat bundle of food from his sleeve.
Alec thought it was the understatement of the year.
“I’m not sure this will help, it might be slightly smashed.” Samuel smiled apologetically as he handed over the pilfered scrap of cloth, flopped the lid of the trunk closed and settled himself onto it.
Alec unwrapped the dry bit of crusty flat bread and eyed it dubiously. Was he really that hungry? He looked up into Samuel’s hopeful face and took a bite.
Crunch! Dry might have been putting it mildly, he thought.
Samuel looked pleased none-the-less and quickly started running down the events as Alec chewed. “You won’t believe it, but…”
It was always the “buts” Alec realized as he listened.
“I have procured us three camels, two tents, cooking utensils, you name it. We have all the food-stuffs we need to complete our journey.” Sam took a breath and then continued, “And a guide, a guide that not only knows the way, but can also speak several languages, even reads the ancient writing of the Babylonians.” He tapped on the trunk with his finger as if to indicate the vast knowledge of the guide.
There’s that “but” again, Alec noted as he listened.
“Not only all that... but, she can cook too, well that may be an overstatement, but it doesn’t matter, all that matters, is that all of our property has been restored to us, even the rifles.”
Another but… she? Did he say, she? Alec questioned his hearing.
The thing with Samuel’s explanations, Alec had learned through the years, was what he didn’t say or, more appropriately, what he avoided saying. That and what he said quickly and the last part had definitely come out in a rush.
“Except the horses,” Samuel was saying when Alec returned his attention back to him. “Horses, as you know don’t do well without water. They have a tendency to expire.”
“You purchased all of that from the sale of our horses?” The skepticism in Alec’s voice could be heard even with his mouth full.
“Well, no…We—”
“What exactly is in the trunk?” Alec interrupted.
“The trunk… Well, yes the books,” Samuel paused considering, “Its representative of a payment of sorts.”
“Payment?” Alec asked through the dry breadcrumbs in his mouth, his mind still on the rushed part of Samuel’s explanation. The guide, there was something to that he realized. “What else did you sell?” Alec wondered briefly if his friend had sold him into slavery. No, that couldn’t be it. He was the King in this little farce, even if Samuel’s face held a sheepish, if not guilty expression.
“What did we buy?” Alec hedged, feeling that he was getting closer, especially by the look on Samuel’s face. “You bought the girl!” Alec exclaimed and knew he was onto something. “You bought a slave?” A dusting of crumbs flew out of Alec’s mouth.
“Well no, not exactly…” Samuel brushed the crumbs from his shirt. “It’s more a bond.”
“Indentured servant?” Alec asked incredulous, he was starting to feel extremely anxious about his behavior.
“It’s more a bond of… matrimony, a dowry if you will.” Samuel waxed philosophical, gesturing with his hands.
“You’re going to marry the girl?” Alec knew he was wrong even before he asked it.
“No, you are!” Samuel returned.
“Cough—Aahh,” Alec literally inhaled the breadcrumbs after that revelation and started choking.
Samuel, being the helpful friend that he was, jumped up and started pounding him on the back. “It will be all right, perfect…Really.” Samuel alleged while he continued the beating. “All we need to do is get her back to England. That’s it,” he added the last part as if it were the easiest thing in the world or that it made the slightest bit if sense.
Tears welled up in Alec’s eyes as he choked. The burning sensation was almost as intense as his outrage.
“It’s not like I didn’t try to change it.” Samuel looked suitably horrified as Alec glared at him. “They’ll kill us if we don’t take her and, and…” he stuttered, “They wouldn’t allow her to go with us unless she was wed. Hell, its death to propose anything else. An unwed woman traveling alone with two strange men is unmentionable here, not to mention back in England. Well, it’s not death, but...”
“Enough!” Alec coughed. The beating Samuel was giving him was bad enough, without having to listen to his rambling. Alec swung an arm around to stop the poundings and stood, the chair catching him in the knees as he teetered. The fact his foot had become trapped within the wrinkled folds of the carpet was just as ill-fated. Unable to regain his balance, he landed hard against the post, there was a slight creak before it gave, and then the whole tent came down on top of their heads.
With a loud “Whoosh” the tent was leveled, sending both men sprawling. Samuel was the first to recover… It must be the drink, Alec surmised. With his body shrouded in canvas and his arms flaying, Samuel managed to navigate to the entrance. Like a moth struggling from its cocoon, he emerged with his hair slightly askew, but none the worse for wear.
Through the tunnel of fabric Samuel had left behind, Alec watched as he staggered slightly holding his arms out for balance while blearily squinting at the audience assembled before him. The part of the group that he could still see seemed only slightly surprised by the mishap, almost expectant. None dared move.
Alec struggled under the canvas as he cleared the post from his path. Unfortunately, once he was able to take a step, he collided with the damn chair again and tripped. Cursing, he managed to stand, and with a great tearing noise rent the fabric, throwing off the remaining pieces of canvas as he did.
Breathing heavily from the exertion, Alec stood before the stunned tribe holding the knife that he normally kept hidden in his boot. A murmur of alarm erupted from the crowd as they stood there eyeing him cautiously.
Samuel, quick to appease the mounting tension, raised his hands and shouted. “Yes, yes, we have a deal. He’ll do it.” Then remembering himself, he repeated it in Arabic.
A heavyset man in the crowd swathed in brilliant robes stepped forward, a relieved smile on his face. Though Alec’s understanding of their language was paltry at best, he understood the large man as he said something to the crowd about being saved from the plague by Allah and the English King.
That would be a reference to him, Alec realized. Either that or he was the plague. He continued to puzzle it thru as the man spoke.
When the sultan finished addressing his people, an incredible sound arose, bursting forth like a cacophony, a full orchestra, or a million crickets. The women of the group started a high-pitched “La, la, la, la,” to which the men accompanied with a lower “Ya, ya, ya, ya,” interspersed with “whoop, whoop.”
Alec watched, slightly alarmed by this odd catharsis.
“It
’s how they celebrate, they’re pleased.” Samuel added for his benefit. “Either that, or it’s how they mourn their dead.” He made this last comment more to himself than Alec.
“What?” Alec’s ears perked up with that aside.
“I said, they’re pleased, look, they’re celebrating.”
“Uh, huh,”
“What?” Samuel innocently replied.
“Nothing,” Alec shook his head. Unbelievable!
Rifles fired off from the crowd, with a start both he and Samuel ducked while looking for the source. Several men of the tribe had been jubilantly firing their rifles into the air.
“See, they’re not aiming at us.” Samuel grinned back at him as he pointed skywards.
Chapter 5
No sooner had the group of villagers stopped cheering than three camels appeared, completely packed and ready to go. Their rifles were mounted and the trunk, which had been delivered to the tent, was retrieved and loaded onto the back of the largest beast.
Alec watched, somewhat surprised at all the commotion. It was almost as if they were afraid he’d change his mind and they couldn’t act quickly enough to get them to leave. Not only was that strange, but the whisperings he’d overheard definitely put him on edge.
Infuriated, Alec glared over at Samuel, “What happened with paying tribute?”
“With what, our good looks? Well,” he amended, “your good looks.”
Alec narrowed his eyes. “You actually find this amusing, don’t you?”
“Com’on, you know the captain took nearly half of what I had and the guide took the rest along with the water he stole. What was I to do offer them, a note?”
“Yes, damn it!”
“Do you really think any of these people would be familiar with an English bank note?” Samuel’s gaze raked the crowd. “Look around, they’re practically living in the stone age. I don’t believe these people are aware of anything other than sheep, sand and swords.”
The only thing Alec could see was the elderly man who’d come for, “the man of tongues” earlier, beckoning him. “What now?” he groaned, looking briefly over at Samuel, man of tongues indeed, he’d like to cut the damn thing out!
“I believe he wants you to stand over there for the ceremony.”
Alec seriously doubted a walk to the guillotine could be worse. He had to fight a strong impulse to run the other way as he crossed the short distance and stood before the old man. Samuel followed closely behind and stood at his shoulder.
The elder of the tribe opened his arms to the heavens and spoke several phrases that Samuel translated.
“He’s asking Allah to bless your union.”
Alec barely heard him through the rushing of blood in his ears as he too offered a silent prayer up to the heavens, but apparently God wasn’t listening, for everyone remained as they were and the earth did not open up and swallow anyone.
A disturbance at the other end of the crowd, however, did catch his attention. A wide path was cleared for a figure covered from head to toe in black. The men especially shrunk back, giving the ominous apparition wide berth.
Was this some kind of ceremonial dress? Alec wondered as she approached. The other women had brightly covered skirts and scarves. The whispering again came to mind. Perhaps she had some kind of ailment… leprosy?
“Ah… Here comes the bride.” Samuel spoke cheerfully at his side.
Alec fixed him with a cold stare and mouthed. “I’m going to kill you!”
“You’re the one who wanted to be king, remember?”
“What the hell does that have to do with this?”
“Well, they certainly weren’t going to marry her to your servant.” Samuel innocently pointed to himself.
Alec rolled his eyes with a groan. He knew when he’d said it, that it would come back to haunt him, but not quite like this. “I’m still going to kill you,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. He received a glare from the elder who put his hand up for silence as the woman came to stand before him.
Alec could actually feel her next to him. His skin crawled with the awareness as his hands went unconsciously to his side to palm the pistols that were no longer there. With booted feet rooted into the ground, he looked more like he was prepared for a gun battle. He’d certainly prefer one to this.
Far removed from any wedding ceremony he’d ever imagined, this one matched his mood. The atmosphere was somber, reminding him more of a funeral than anything, especially with the bride completely swathed in layers of black.
The elder produced a scarf, which he looped over each of their wrists. Alec was just grateful he didn’t actually have to touch her and risk contamination. A few words were spoken and the scarf was removed. It was fairly painless considering he’d just been shackled.
The crowd remained strangely silent, almost afraid, as if they were waiting for the heavens to roll back and for God to smite them. And now that he considered it… why not? It’s not every day you marry off the Plague of Egypt. No wonder they were waiting for lightening to strike.
It was no longer difficult for him to sort out the words that Samuel elected not to translate. Alec threw another disgusted look at the man. Marrying him off to no less than the Plague of Egypt had to top just about everything else he’d ever done to him. Despite the provocation, this little stunt went beyond the pale.
“There you are,” Samuel pronounced as a woman bearing a plate laden with an assortment of meats and fruits came towards them. “Your wedding feast has arrived.”
“You mean last supper?” Alec’s voice was flat as he waved it away. “You actually think I could eat after this?”
Samuel shrugged his shoulders as he grabbed a handful of dates before she turned away. They both watched as the bride went to stand before an old woman. They spoke quietly then embraced.
“Look at the bright side,” Samuel popped a few dates into his mouth. “If that old crone is her mother, she might be as old as the hills herself.”
“And exactly how is that the bright side?”
“Well, you won’t have to run very hard to get away from her.” Samuel mumbled around a mouth full.
Alec fixed him with an icy stare.
“I’ll just go see what’s taking so long.”
Left alone, the prickling sensation of being watched intensified as Alec scanned the crowd, it didn’t take long to find the source. The leader of the blackbirds was standing back from the crowd and, though he did nothing, his rage was palpable, his face a mask of barely concealed malevolence.
It was curios that the man would be acting this way over a plague. The untimely arrival of an English King had definitely not been to the man’s liking. Alec found himself wondering if he’d disrupted a love match and would have to surrender his bride… he could only hope so.
The only problem with that solution was that with the way his luck had run lately they’d have to kill him in order to free her from their nuptials. “Bloody Hell!” Alec swore, expecting any moment a challenge to ensue. Great, just great! His jaw tightened with impatience as he waited.
“Time to go,” Samuel called.
“Finally,” Alec practically sighed with relief as he turned away. He climbed on top of the kneeling camel as Samuel tossed him a sack containing his weapons.
“Like taking a pebble from a beach…”
“If you never said that again, it would be a good thing,” Alec warned through clenched teeth as he placed his guns in his belt, and then searched the sack for more. “Where’s the ammunition?”
“Ah, I believe it has been loaded onto the camel with your bride. Something to do with keeping the peace, I believe.”
Alec snorted in response.
As they left, the tribe started jubilantly cheering once again. The trilling of the women blended with the whooping and hollering of the men. Alec made it a point to keep an eye on the leader of the blackbirds, especially when shots were fired into the air. The man fixed him with a black stare then turned and stalk
ed away.
It was a warning… or worse. The look had definitely held a promise of dire consequence. The only thing Alec knew for sure was that he’d had enough of these people.
Alec prodded his camel forward, glancing at the tent he’d been forced to stay in all morning. He could almost laugh at the irony. He’d been left to swelter in the heat, while Samuel had been received with the aplomb of a visiting dignitary. Not that he could have known at the time, baking as he’d been in the canvas oven with not one, but five guards, to ensure he stayed there.
He did at least feel some vindication that the damn thing had been leveled. The fact that it looked as though a herd of elephants had run over it was hardly compensation for the indignity of having been held captive within it or the debacle of what had transpired afterward. All of which he blamed one person for… Samuel.
Alec watched as the idiot waved goodbye to the cheers of the tribe who’d followed them out of the camp. Escorted them was more like it.
~*~
Alec wiped his sleeve across his brow and adjusted the brim of his hat. It was not only as hot as Hades, but he was also fairly certain the large expanse of desert they rode toward looked like hell as well. Which was why he was amazed to find that he was viewing the bleak vista as a reprieve from his ordeal rather than a dire circumstance. In fact, he welcomed it with open arms.
He and his two companions rode single file with several yards distance between them. Riding in the middle of the exodus, Alec certainly had no interest in closing the gap between either of the two. He actually hoped to avoid both of them for as long as possible.
He stole a quick glance back at the apparition who now followed behind him. How could his life have taken such a drastic turn? Alec wondered as he watched the woman perched atop a camel. The fact that he couldn’t seem to shake the tingling awareness of her also set him on edge.
“Bloody hell,” he groaned, turning back around. He couldn’t for the life of him think of a worse fate. How could Samuel sell him out like this? Hell, he reminded himself, he should count himself lucky he hadn’t been sold into slavery.
Treasure of Egypt Page 6