Desert Prince

by Constance O'Banyon

  Heikki bowed his head. “It shall be done at once.”

  “Heikki,” Julian said, clasping his arm. “Thank you for your devoted service.”

  A smile curved the general’s mouth. “I serve the Tausrat family, as have my ancestors for hundreds of years.”

  After Heikki left, Julian walked alone in the garden, his thoughts troubled. He had set in motion a plan that would either bring Sheik Moussami into submission, or cause blood to flow.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Julian leaned against the trunk of a date palm and lowered his head. “I never imagined Bastet would be the one to lead the Romans to my grandmother.” Lifting his head, he glanced at Uriah, who seemed more like his old self. “It is bitter to discover a woman I trusted was responsible for the death of my grandmother.”

  “As I recall you telling me,” Apollodorus injected, “this younger sister warned you not to trust Bastet just before we left Alexandria four years ago.”

  Julian thought back to the incident that had occurred outside the Jannah garden wall. “Aye, she did. But that does not absolve her of blame in Grandmother’s death.”

  “Let us go on the assumption that the young woman is telling the truth. What will you do?” Uriah asked.

  Julian walked a little way down the path and then turned back. “She knows about Caesarion. Think what Octavian would do if he was privy to that information. He would bring the whole of Rome’s might down on Bal Forea.”

  “And yet for five years Rome has not attacked Bal Forea,” Apollodorus reminded him.

  “Even so, I cannot release her since she knows about my cousin. She cannot be allowed to leave.”

  “Her family will make a search for her,” Uriah said, bending his head to evade a buzzing mosquito. “So sad. She is such a pretty woman and so young.”

  “She will be my prisoner until I find out if she is speaking the truth. If we discover she is a spy for the Romans, we will decide what to do with her at that time.”

  Apollodorus studied the toe of his soft boot. “Julian, neither of us can go near the Jannah household asking questions and drawing attention to ourselves.” He nodded at Uriah, who seemed to have fallen asleep. “Nor can he.”

  Julian agreed with a nod. “What if we send our own spy to the Jannah household?”

  Apollodorus was thoughtful for a moment; then he slowly nodded. “It could work. No one gossips like servants.”

  Julian thought about his choices for a moment. “Rafta works in Uriah’s kitchen. If we could find a way to get her into the Jannah house, perhaps she could discover the truth.”

  “It is no longer safe for you to remain here. We should move this young lady out of Alexandria,” Apollodorus said flatly.

  “To the desert?”

  “Do you think that wise?”

  “Since I will be going to my mother’s villa, I will take her with me. I do not believe anyone in the Jannah family knows of its existence.”

  Apollodorus nodded his approval. “Inform Rafta what you want of her while I make ready for you to leave. You should take Uriah with you, while I remain behind to find out what I can. It would be a serious matter if the Romans found out about Ptolemy. Then, too, I want to learn what I can about Tribune Vergilius.”

  “I will leave before first light. Crossing the desert will be too difficult for Uriah, so we shall go by boat—let us hope our old friend Captain Narmeri is in port.” Julian took in a deep breath. “You should look to your safety, Apollodorus. Come to me as soon as you can.”

  The Sicilian smiled to himself, wondering if Julian realized he was issuing orders like a general. He was a natural leader. Ramtat would be proud.

  Sabinah had been placed in a small chamber with no windows and a guard at the door. After a while she was so weary she lay down on the narrow cot, turned to her side, and rested her cheek against her arm. What bothered her most was that Julian did not seem worried about the danger that faced him in Alexandria.

  She had awakened early, and it had been a very tiring day. Her eyes drifted shut, and she knew nothing more.

  It felt as if she had barely fallen asleep when a servant woke her, charging her to dress. The garments she was given to wear were the type worn by Badari women. Wrapping the dalmatic loosely about her body, she felt smothered, and it did not help when the same dour-faced servant who had let her through the gate instructed her to cover her face with a veil. After the woman was satisfied that Sabinah was properly garbed, she led her down a corridor and outside.

  Torchlights blazed throughout the courtyard where there were three Badari mounted on huge black horses. Julian was standing near a restless black stallion, his gaze sweeping across her. He nodded with approval at her manner of dress.

  There was a small litter, and she assumed it was for her. But Uriah was gently helped inside, and the curtains lowered.

  “Do you ride?” Julian asked harshly.

  She could have told him she had ridden the horse he had given Bastet, but she merely nodded. “May I ask where you are taking me?”

  “You may ask nothing. All you need to know is you will be taken where you can cause no mischief.”

  “Then may I have a word with you?” She glanced at the Badari tribesmen who were to be their escorts. “I would like to speak to you in private.”

  Julian took her arm and led her a short distance away. She could feel the restlessness stirring within him, and the disapproval.

  “What have you to say that could not wait?”

  He was so tall Sabinah had to look up to see his face. “My stepmother may send out an alarm when I do not return. She will alert the Romans.”

  “I expect it of her.”

  “Allow me to send her a message that will keep her from involving the Romans. If she believes I have run away, she will not ask their help.”

  “Is this one of your tricks?” he asked skeptically.

  “Nay. No trick. You can read what I write to make certain there is no hidden meaning.”

  Julian looked doubtful. But he took her arm and led her to the library Uriah used for his work. Manuscripts were stacked on the floor, and they had to thread their way through them to reach the desk that was piled high with scrolls. When Sabinah was seated on a padded stool, Julian shoved a roll of papyrus toward her.

  “Make it convincing, and make it quick. I want to be out of Alexandria before sunup.”

  Her hand shook as she began to write.

  Stepmother, I am leaving Alexandria, and I think you know why. Do not attempt to find me. Place no blame on Isadad. She is a true and faithful servant and knows nothing of my plans.

  Sabinah felt Julian at her shoulder. She handed him the scroll, and he quickly read it to himself. “Is your stepmother likely to believe this?”

  “She knows I do not like the Romans she invites to our house. Perhaps she will believe I have run away.”

  He took her arm, pulling her upward to face him. “I have learned that a beautiful woman can lie.”

  She blinked. Did he think her beautiful? “The person I am being untruthful to is my stepmother. Would you rather I told her you are kidnapping me?”

  Sabinah watched as he frowned in puzzlement.

  “Why did you seek me here yesterday?”

  “I knew of your link to Uriah, and I hoped he would be able to get word to you of danger. I did not expect you to be here.”

  The sun reflected the smoldering anger in his eyes, and Sabinah lifted her head high with no outward sign of sadness because he was suspicious of her.

  Julian led her out of the room. When they reached the courtyard, he lifted her onto a horse and motioned a servant forward. Sabinah did not hear what he said to the man, but he handed him the scroll Sabinah had written to her stepmother.

  Horse hooves clattered over stone, and the gate was thrown open. They rode single file through the narrow twisted streets, past an empty marketplace, toward the sea.

  When they reached the shore, there were but a few dockworkers
performing the task of loading cargo on ships. Julian lifted Sabinah from her horse, steering her toward a waiting boat, smaller than the Roman ships that rode at anchor.

  “Captain Narmeri, old friend,” Julian said, striding up the gangplank. “Thank you for waiting for us.”

  “The son of your gracious mother is always welcome on my humble boat,” the man said with feeling.

  It was still hours until sunup, but Sabinah could make out the captain’s wide girth and his fierce features. A jagged scar cut deeply into the left side of his swarthy face, making her to want to shrink away from him when he offered her his hand to help her up the gangplank.

  Uriah was brought onboard, appearing to take the strange occurrence with a shrug. The captain must have known him because he chatted with Uriah and saw that he was comfortably settled in his own quarters below deck. Sabinah knew the old man was ill and wondered how he would fare on the voyage.

  Next the horses were led up the gangplank and secured in a roped-off area. The tribesmen made themselves comfortable near the horses, while Julian spoke with the captain. Julian looked in Sabinah’s direction, nodding, so she knew he was discussing her.

  She felt the salt breeze against her face and closed her eyes, remembering the time her father had taken the family on a cruise down the Nile. It had been a wonderful adventure, but those days were gone.

  Dead, like her father.

  She was so deep in thought she had not heard Julian’s soft tread, and when he spoke, she jumped.

  “You are to limit your movements to the bulkhead. The Blue Scarab is not constructed to carry passengers; however, Captain Narmeri has hung a mosquito net for your comfort and a curtain you can pull down whenever you want privacy. It should not be too uncomfortable.”

  “I am not a spoiled Roman lady, Julian. I will do very well.”

  He looked at her curiously.

  The sun made its appearance as they sailed past the causeway that led to Pharos Island, site of the Great Lighthouse. “My mother first met my father when this very boat stopped at that island to take him onboard.” Julian did not know why he felt compelled to tell her something so personal. He could not be certain how deeply she was involved with Rome.

  Sabinah reached for something to say. “Your mother was a tamer of wild beasts. There is a legend that she once saved Queen Cleopatra’s life when she put herself between the queen and a cheetah that was about to attack.”

  “That is no legend—’tis fact.”

  “Your father was general of Queen Cleopatra’s armies.”

  “That is a well-known fact,” he said dully. “Come with me, and I shall see you settled. You will have to make do without a servant to attend you, but have no fear for your safety. You will be well guarded.”

  She gave him a sideways glance. “Am I guarded for my protection, or to keep me from jumping over the side of the boat to escape?”

  Julian guided her to the bulkhead, glancing down at her. “Do not even contemplate escaping. Know that the water here is treacherous, and when we reach the Nile, a crocodile would have you for its meal before you could ever reach shore.”

  “How long will we be on this boat?”

  Julian had never noticed the way the sunlight could play across a woman’s hair and make it shimmer, or how soft a woman’s skin looked beneath torchlight. He had never before gazed into a woman’s eyes and felt that he was being pulled inside. “All depends on the wind. It will be several days at least.” He frowned as a new thought hit him. “Are you likely to get seasick?”

  “I have been on a voyage before and was not sick at that time.”

  Julian raised the mosquito net that had been hung in a wide circle, and she could see a stuffed mat and plump pillows.

  “Perhaps you should lower the curtains and rest for a bit. You were yanked from your bed early.”

  “I am a bit weary,” she admitted.

  If he had thought to frighten her by whisking her out of Alexandria, he had been mistaken. Sabinah had strength and tenacity. “I will have water and food brought to you.”

  Sabinah ducked inside and untied the heavy cord that held the linen curtain in place, slowly lowering it so she could have privacy. Sitting down, she bowed her head in total misery. By now her stepmother had surely received her message. What must she be thinking? Trisella, at least, would be happy to be rid of her.

  She could not imagine Julian doing her harm. But she reminded herself that he held her accountable for Lady Larania’s death.

  She closed her eyes and breathed heavily. She did not know what tomorrow would bring, but to be near Julian was all she had ever wanted. When she had been younger, she had spent a good deal of time thinking about him. But that had been the boy—this was the man.

  Not once had he called her Sunshine.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was dark, and drizzling, and Sabinah spent most of the day beneath her shelter. A raw wind struck at dusk, just as the Blue Scarab left the Mediterranean behind and made its way to the Nile River. The boat had not progressed far when night fell and the captain gave orders to tie up onshore because of the hazardous shallows that made it impossible to navigate in the darkness.

  Sometime during the night the rain stopped, leaving it hot and humid. The boat rocked as the wind whipped up heavy waves. Sabinah yearned for daylight, when the boat would move to the middle of the river where it would be cooler.

  Just before dawn the wind died down and she slept.

  As the days passed, Sabinah was alone but for the tall silent Badari warrior who stood guard nearby. Not once had she seen him glance in her direction, but she knew he was aware of her every move.

  She stared at the blue sky that seemed to have been washed by the rain. Puffy clouds gathered in the distance, and she watched as the Blue Scarab sailed past a small village. Dark-skinned children ran along the shore, waving and laughing. In the distance she saw a dusty road that curved through the village and over a hill. There were green fields past the papyrus reeds that grew along the bank. Off to her left Sabinah watched a whirlwind spinning until it played out, settling back into dust.

  She felt Julian beside her and sensed his coldness toward her. “I have been wondering what those children are thinking as they go about their lives,” she said, nodding toward the village that was quickly disappearing around a bend in the river.

  Julian seemed to be studying the children, too, but said nothing.

  “My father once explained to me,” Sabinah continued, “no matter into which class people are born, their lives are familiar to them, and they are happy.”

  “What would your father have said about those who have ambitions to rise above the class they were born into?” he asked, lowering his gaze to hers.

  Sabinah wondered what he meant. “I would not know about that. I have never aspired to reach higher than my birthright.” That was not entirely true, she thought sadly. She had often thought how wondrous it would be if she could become Julian’s wife.

  “What about the Romans who frequent your home?” he asked harshly. “I am told some of them are of the nobility.”

  “I certainly do not aspire to be the wife of a Roman.” She drew in an irritated breath. “I would consider that a step down.”

  “Tell me about Bastet,” he said abruptly.

  She blinked her eyes, staring at a hippopotamus that was swimming in the distance. “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell me why she gave my grandmother up to the Romans.”

  Sabinah ached with shame. “She did it for the reward.”

  Sabinah felt him recoil.

  “And you did not know what she had done that night you warned me away from your home?”

  She pulled her headdress into place and shook her head. “I have already told you I did not know at that time. You can believe me or not.”

  “I have been pondering on a few things. You could easily have told the Romans where I would be that night I waited for Bastet, yet you did not. Why i
s that? Did you not care to collect the reward?”

  Sabinah hung her head so he could not see the misery that must surely show in her eyes. “I would never do such a thing to you or your family, or anyone else for that matter. I am not like Bastet.”

  Julian cupped her face and raised it to him. “You never were.”

  The old familiar pain stabbed at her. Her mind ebbed to and fro like the water that swirled around the Blue Scarab: she ached for his touch, yet she knew he despised her. “We cannot all be beautiful,” she said with a flare of anger.

  Julian studied her intently, his gaze on a red curl that had escaped her headdress. “You have always looked younger than your years.”

  “A flaw, but at least that one I can overcome as I advance in age,” she said in irritation.

  Julian was silent for a moment. “My mother would say a woman’s true beauty shines from inside: her thoughts, her manner, her goodness. Are these not more important traits than being fair of face?”

  “Some would say so. I know some with outward beauty who are twisted on the inside.”

  Julian’s thumb moved against her cheek and touched the edge of her generous mouth. “Which are you, I wonder?”

  “I,” she said earnestly, “am plain of face, but I would like to think I have never done harm to another. And I try never to speak an untruth, unless it is necessary—like when I sent the message to my stepmother.”

  “But you are untruthful about something else.”

  She frowned. “I do not know of what you speak.”

  “I think you do. You are not plain, as you are well aware.”

  Sabinah did not like where the conversation was going, so she changed its direction. “I have not seen Uriah on deck. How does he fare?”

  There was a long pause before Julian spoke. “He is fragile. Ill. I do not know how he will tolerate the long voyage, yet I could not leave him behind.”