by Diana Kirk
Nafari slanted Akiki a glance but continued bundling the clothing into a large package and handed it to him. "Here are the Lady's things. You can take them to the porter."
"I'm no lowly servant to carry these trifles." He dropped the bundle. "You shame me with this."
"Stop." Nafari held out both hands and pointed toward the door. "If you cannot help, then leave us at once and send back the porter. I will inform your Master of your behavior."
His eyes blazed. "You do not frighten me with threats. I know you are as his mother." He stormed around the room, his fists against his squat body. "Yet, in rank, you are the same as me."
"What is this noise?" Tarik's deep voice penetrated the room. Alex glanced up. Her heart thudded against her chest at the sight of him. Tarik was dressed in a white pleated kilt, but the white cape around his shoulders was covered with gold and blue hieroglyphs. His gilded head cloth lit up his dark eyes and he looked like a living god, himself. "Akiki what arguments are you starting today?"
"Master, I--" His gaze met the floor.
"Ah, Tarik, my adopted son." Nafari said with an air of authority. "Come see. We have prepared Alec for the trip."
"It's pronounced Alex."
All three turned to her and replied in unison, "What?"
"My name. I'm sorry to be...to be...well...so adamant." She lifted her chin. "But it's my name."
Tarik gazed at her and nodded his head. "You are right. From now on we must all remember to call you Alex."
He raised his arm. "We must sail as far down the Nile as possible before evening comes. The wind dies with the sun and is reborn the next day along with Ra." He smiled at Nafari and Akiki. "You will not disagree while I am gone?"
Nafari smiled back. "We will always disagree, but I promise we will not fight."
"Akiki?" Tarik raised a brow.
"I agree, but only if she stays out of my sight."
If Akiki was so awful, Alex wondered, why did Tarik even keep him around? But she already knew the answer. Nafari told her Akiki assisted him with surgery and, over the years, had become quite skilled.
"Come." He brushed her arm and she shivered from the heat of his touch. Why did he have this effect on her? Was she coming down with something? No. This was different. She vaguely remembered feeling this way a few times before, and it hadn't been from the flu. "It is time."
The small procession followed Tarik down the long corridor and across the courtyard. The scent and sight of flowers so exotic and unrecognizable, she suspected they were extinct, surrounded her and she marveled how the Egyptians could turn a desert into a Garden of Eden. At the gate, he stopped and motioned to Seta who limped behind them. "Go ahead with the porters to the boat. We will follow on foot."
"On foot?" Alex was amazed. Most of the nobles used bearers, even for short distances. It was a matter of station, Nafari had told her.
Tarik gazed down at her. "It is my personal belief that walking and physical activity strengthens the body and the soul."
"I don't believe it! You...you..." Even four thousand years ago they understood the value of exercise! These were truly a magical people. Whatever had happened to destroy such a civilization? But that stuff didn't matter, anymore. She was here. Now.
"What is it you do not believe?" He gazed at her, an odd expression on his handsome face.
"Oh, nothing. I was surprised that's all." Best to change the subject and avoid an argument. "I'm glad you allowed Seta to ride. Her ankle's got to be killing her."
An odd expression crossed his face and he touched her arm. As if electric sparks radiated from his fingers, she pulled away and hurried ahead.
"I am not the evil Lord as you would believe," he called after her.
"Good morning, Lord Tarik," a kilted man said bowing his head as they passed.
"Ah, Friend of Pharaoh," another hailed.
Nodding in reply Tarik bent toward Alex. "This is my humble village."
In the early morning light, Abydos looked like something right out of the Arabian Nights. Well-kept mud-brick row houses were painted in various hues of bright blue, yellow, and red. Large hieroglyphs adorned the sides and roofs.
On one end of the bustling street a scantily clad woman hauled a large vessel of water into her home. A scrawny youth prodded a donkey that balked at pulling their vessel-filled cart.
Nearest to Alex a fat cow buried its head into the straw-filled manger built against a house, while another, it's udders swollen with milk, poked its spotted head into a doorway and bellowed.
Everywhere she looked there was activity. Women spun linen into thread and milked lowing cows, while unattended children chased each other in and out of doorways. But the morning's coolness was misleading. Within hours, the stifling midday heat would force everyone inside.
"It's just like I remembered."
He frowned and slanted her a glance. "Then how is it that I do not know you?"
"You know me."
He smiled benignly as if dealing with a stubborn child. "I mean from before. The time you say you remembered. How is that?"
"I don't know. Maybe we just missed bumping into each other."
"No. That is not so. I know all of Abydos's inhabitants and visitors. I am their physician."
"Oh." She didn't want to upset him. To bring up the sore subject of the tomb, again. It was better to just let it go. "Then I guess I was mistaken."
She hadn't wanted to spoil the mood. How serene and civilized it all seemed. Nodding her head, Alex returned each friendly greeting. How different this encounter was from the day she'd arrived, shocked, bewildered, and frightened. Desperately searching for a way back to reality, and passing out from the heat.
Only this place in time was her reality. Slowly, over the past two weeks she'd come to accept what she couldn't understand. Things were different now and a strange sense of comfort swept over her.
She'd never imagined she'd be complacent about her situation. But everywhere she looked reality called for acceptance. She had to fight the urge to give in. She had to remember who she was, where she'd come from, and where she planned to go. But the future seemed so long ago. In her past. Another lifetime. For the moment, however brief, she had to make the best of things and survive.
Tarik led her over a small rise and down to a long ramp toward the end of the dock. A long, flat papyrus boat, about the size of a modest yacht, waited to receive them.
"Wow! This is your boat? When you said boat...I thought...." She ran down the dock and stopped just short of the plank. "Jeez, it's huge?"
"Nay, it is not so large." He took her hand and helped her across the plank. The floor was painted a bright blue, while the sides and mast had been splashed with yellow like the sun. "Come, your things are in the sleeping quarters. I will show you."
The "quarters" turned out to be an enormous papyrus tent filled with several beds and a large, low to the floor, table. She gazed around. "Is this the only room?" Apprehension gnawed at her stomach. "Where are you sleeping?"
"These are my quarters." He smiled broadly and crossed his arms over his well-muscled chest.
"But--"
"And these are also yours." He continued to smile with a haughty self-satisfied expression.
He wasn't getting away with this. "But--" She shook her head. "No."
"You said you might try to escape. Did you not?"
Alex sat on the bed. "I--I was only kidding."
"Kidding?" He quirked a brow.
"It was a joke." Alex gazed up and swiped her hand across her forehead. "You do understand what a joke is, don't you? She gazed out over the deep blue water. "Where would I go? In the Nile?"
Tarik sat on the bed directly across from her. "If it is your pleasure." He lounged against the pillows with a man's negligent grace. "But I assure you, the crocodiles will not allow it."
"Crocodiles? Here?" She strode to the doorway and glared into the dark silky water. Even though the Nile was shallow, she could barely swim. If she did jump,
she'd never make it to shore.
A cold thought quivered through her. Staying in the tent was about as safe as the alternative.
"I--I need my privacy." She glanced around the close quarters, folded her arms, and perched on the edge of a bed.
"You have no need for worry." He leaned forward, his eyes held the darkness of smoldering embers. How easy it would be to forget her world and be captured by the sensations swirling around her. How easy and yet, how stupid, how impossible, how dangerous. She squared her shoulders. "I'll sleep on deck with Seta."
"Impossible." The fire in his eyes cooled. "I will not be disgraced in front of my servants. You are forbidden."
"I'm what?" Anger flared and knotted her stomach. "You forbid me? You can't...I won't..." She lifted her chin and met his gaze straight on.
His jaw clenched and unclenched. Tarik leaned forward. His eyes flashed fire, but a chill hung on the edge of his words. "Your temperament is as a camel's. Even though your appearance pleases me, why would I waste myself on such as you? When I take a woman to my bed it is because it pleases her to do so."
Alex fisted her hands on her hips. "Don't you dare come near me. I'll scream."
Tarik's laughter mocked her. "If it pleases you. Naught but the oarsmen and crocodiles will give notice. I am their Lord, and Physician to Pharaoh." He rose from the bed and swaggered onto the deck. "It might prove amusing to them that you should refuse me, for I have no need to force what is sought by all the ladies of Egypt."
Pompous, egotistical jackass. Alex watched him stroll across the deck with an air of authority. Folding herself onto the bed, the river's sway lulled her anger into a mixture of relief and regret. Once again forgetting what century she was in, she'd jumped to conclusions. She'd wrongly assumed he'd planned to seduce her, or worse. In fact, if he'd wanted to take her he'd had plenty of opportunities. She'd insulted him. Good!
ONE STRETCH of the Nile looked like another and Alex had seen every inch of it go by during the long afternoon. She and Tarik had spent the better part of the day avoiding each other. If that was really possible on a boat sailing lazily against the current. Seta had helped pass the time by showing her the art of beading, and idle chatter. Evening had come and gone, the wind had died, and the papyrus craft was now floating in the doldrums.
The moon's glow wavered on the glistening water. Seta curled up on a reed mat and fell instantly asleep, while Alex paced back and forth determined to stay out of the tent.
She yawned and stretched her stiff muscles. She couldn't put it off any longer. She was tired. No doubt, Tarik was asleep. She tiptoed into the tent and sat on her bed.
Although she really couldn't tell for sure, since he faced the wall, in the small confines of their quarters, she was conscious of his every breath, and the steady, even movement of his ribs telegraphed sleep.
The great Lord Tarik hadn't said much to her since their earlier encounter. He'd busied himself ordering his boatmen around and left her to her mood. He hadn't even acted like he was particularly interested in her. He muttered at her now and then--and what had he meant by saying she had the personality of a camel?
She rolled over and punched the bedding. "Dammit."
He was an egomaniac. She'd met men like him in medical school. In fact, most of her colleagues were just like him. They'd talked down to her, tried to coerce her into all sorts of compromising predicaments, just to show their superiority. And yet, she'd held her own, never allowing anger to take control. Since her arrival, here, she'd been afraid, upset, and most of all, hysterical. Now, when she faced an ancient male, one who logically acted the way he did because of his environment, she came unglued. In most respects, he'd treated her kindly. Never threatening or forcing himself. That's what bothered her--to be ignored was the worst insult--never in her life had she been ignored. Never in her life had she even cared if a man wanted her or not and she'd had plenty of offers. She'd show him. She was a physician. She'd demonstrate her self-confidence, her pride, those same qualities that had earned her colleagues' respect. She needed to make him aware that she wasn't like the other women of his time.
At this stage in her life, why did the attention of this difficult, bullheaded, opinionated man mean anything? An unsettling thought swept over her. Even at his most exasperating, he radiated a raw sensuality that rattled her to her core.
TARIK LISTENED for the deep, even breathing that was a sure sign of sleep. How long had he lain in this position, one guaranteed to show her his feelings? Too long indeed. Coiled against the side of the tent, his leg muscles ached to move, to extend, to stretch. How silly this action was. What did he care if the woman wanted him or not? He'd lain with many women and she was no different.
But this woman was different. Her argumentative and stubborn manner proved she was intelligent and knowledgeable in ways he did not understand. And the nearness of her nearly drove him mad.
Never had a woman of his household rebuffed his advances. In fact, most of them came to him willingly, even when he'd no inclination. With this Alex woman, the inclination was always there. That is what he'd fought against ever since she'd crashed into him in the sand that day at the tomb.
A deep sigh left Alex and she stirred. She must be asleep, for she would never allow him to hear her sigh. He rolled over and stretched. Relief swept him as feeling slowly seeped back into his taut muscles. He turned his head to gaze upon her. In the filtered moonlight, her relaxed features enhanced her alabaster skin--its whiteness glowed in the darkness reminding him of his courtyard statues. She was magnificent.
He stood and padded softly to her side. Bending down, he caught her scent of honey and queres, a most rare unguent. Ever the crafty matchmaker, there was no doubt Nafari had given it to her. And Alex, unknowingly innocent to its effect on him, had worn it.
He leaned closer, almost touching her full ripe lips, a torment to his reasoning not to gather her in his arms and taste the delights of her.
But reasoning with her was impossible. This stubborn woman insisted she was a physician from another land, another time. Was she merely crazy, or was there truth to what she said?
"Impossible." The unbidden whisper escaped his lips and he stood waiting for her to wake.
She stirred slightly, threw an arm over her head, and mumbled something imperceptible.
He strolled onto the deck and surveyed his Egypt. Rhythmic sounds of sleep mingled with the exotic sounds of night. All were at peace in the stillness of the Nile. Yet, deep inside his heart, his ka struggled to understand his thoughts of this woman. How would he bear her living in Pharaoh's harem?
TARIK STARTLED awake. He heard his men praising Ra for the wind, reborn with the day. Rubbing his sleep worn eyes, he tossed a glance at Alex. Her back was to him and from her regular breathing, still asleep. A pang of envy darkened his mood. Why had his words not upset her as hers had him?
"Master, the sun is high and by the grace of the wind god we have traveled many miles. Do you wish to dine?"
Tarik left the shade of his tent and strode on deck. Seta busied herself arranging grapes, figs, bread, and poured beer into a tall goblet. Wind-filled sails offered the oarsmen time enough to enjoy the ride and they lounged about the deck eating from great bowls of fruit and bread.
"Yes, Sinuba, I am ready."
Ready to turn the boat around and go back to Abydos! He'd been a fool to think a trip with Alex would allow him to determine if she was a spy. So far all he'd gotten from this trip was stiff muscles and a sleepless night, which had soured his disposition and left him with the urge to spit and hiss at all who approached. It was now he who bore the personality of the camel.
Seta brought him the platter of fruit and goat cheese. A meal for a god, yet he took no pleasure from it. The cool breeze across his face only accentuated his fatigue and he set the food aside.
Intending to return to the tent, he stood just as Alex stepped directly in front of him.
"Good morning, Tarik," she said in a friendly manne
r. Gone was the argumentative tone of her voice.
He bowed his head. "I trust you slept well, even though my presence unnerved you."
She tossed her head back and smiled seductively. "I slept wonderfully, thanks to the Nile--" But the redness of her eyes belied her words. "--and I didn't seem to notice your presence one bit. I--I guess I was pretty silly last night. And how did you sleep? well?"
"As always in the arms of Egypt's mother," he lied. She'd not be given the pleasure of knowing his night was spent thinking of her.
She took the plate of food from Seta and ate with the gusto of a litter bearer. "Thanks Seta. Mmm, fresh fruit, my favorite. And how was your night?"
"As yours, Mistress. The goddess of night protected my ka and only once did the footsteps of a man disturb me. But I was too tired to raise my head and see."
Alex cast Tarik a bemused look. "Who'd be pacing in the middle of the night?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "My men are sometimes restless." He stood and held out his hand. "I will show you my maps and how far we have come."
She set her plate aside and slipped her smaller hand in his. The coolness of her touch startled him. So small, so soft, she had not labored in the fields. Good. Of noble birth. Very good.
He led her to a smaller tent behind their sleeping quarters. Inside stood a tall alabaster table filled with papyrus scrolls. "Although we have no need for maps on our present journey to Thebes, we keep complete records of the upper and lower kingdoms at our ready."
"Ready for what?"
"It is of no concern for you." If she was a spy, knowledge that his boat could save Pharaoh would be priceless. It was better to keep such things to himself.
She folded her arms in that obstinate way she had. "So, how far have we gone?"
He spread the map out on the table and secured it with four large blocks of polished lapis. "See?" He pointed to Abydos. "This is from where we started." He placed a miniature papyrus boat on the painted Nile. "And this is where we are now. One day and one night's travel."