“All of a sudden, the heart began to speak to her, ‘I love this donkey. I love this donkey’s behind. I must love the donkey!’” The children began to laugh and howl at the joke. Ziza ran around the fire chasing an imaginary donkey, blowing kisses at it. The children rocked with laughter. I clapped my hands at her performance.
“The jinn, seeing that his trick had not worked, decided to move on to another camp to watch for another pretty woman who needed a heart. Here is the lesson, dear ones. If you happen to meet a jinn who offers you a heart, refuse it. It is merely a trick, and you may end up loving a donkey!”
The kids clapped at the story, and even my father had a good chuckle. The listeners showed their appreciation by tossing coral-colored desert flowers at my feet. I took Ziza’s hand and we hugged, plainly pleased with ourselves. We collected our flowers and returned to sit near the bridal couple in a reserved place of honor. Pah made a space for me beside her at the feast, but I could see she had not enjoyed my story. She gripped my wrist and whispered fiercely, “You call Yuni a donkey, sister? Why would you tell such a story at my wedding feast?”
“Such was not my intention, dearest. But he looks much like a donkey, doesn’t he?” Suddenly Pah rose and stared down at me fiercely. I thought she would slap me, as she had before, but she raised her hands and invited all the young women present to join her in a dance. I did not join her, and she did not invite me. I was not trying to find a husband, as many of the girls here were. My father looked at me questioningly, but I shook my head. His words from an earlier conversation echoed in my mind: “Please, Nefret. Marry so your sister cannot send you away. If you were betrothed to someone, she would have no power over you.” I had given him a weak smile but refused.
Alexio plunked down in Pah’s empty spot. “Nefret, you should watch yourself. Don’t provoke her,” he whispered, pretending to offer me a cup of wine.
“I am not provoking her. I told a story.” I handed the cup back to him and clapped for the dancers. Alexio and I had grown apart in recent months, but in the past few days, things had changed. Looks passed between us that I could not readily explain. At times, he looked at me like a hungry man who had returned to the oasis after spending a month lost in the desert. Sometimes I thought he would ask me something, but I did not make that easy.
Somewhere in this crowd was Farafra, his intended. She made no friendly overtures to me, nor I to her. She stared at Alexio constantly but danced with the others, hoping he would notice her. Alexio was tall, with strong arms and legs, a requirement for a young man who wished to be a trader. He could carry sacks of heavy wheat and boxes of goods with little effort. He had smooth, light brown skin and dark eyes with a thick fringe of lashes. He had an easy, friendly manner and a pleasant, deep voice. The dance continued, and we smiled and clapped along.
My beautiful sister appeared to be the happiest woman alive; only I knew her unhappiness. I loved Pah and hoped she would soon forgive me. I had not intended to hurt her. Perhaps it had been a foolish story choice for a wedding, but as far as I could see, she was the only person who had been offended by the telling.
When the dance ended, one of the Council would come and declare good things over the marriage of Pah and Yuni and all would forget about me. It was good to be forgotten.
As if a veil had been lifted from my eyes, I became aware that someone watched me. I searched for Alexio, who had walked away to talk to nearby friends, but it was not him. Now that the dance had ended, he talked and laughed with Farafra. She was pretty, graceful and charmingly breathless after her dance; I felt a momentary stab of jealousy but pushed it away. Why shouldn’t Alexio be happy? The girl was his intended, and she certainly appeared smitten with him. He caught me staring and smiled. Embarrassed, I looked away and continued to scan the crowd. The feeling that I was being watched did not fade.
I began to feel more uncomfortable even as I hunkered down into a cushion, tossed my long copper curls behind my back and slapped a smile on my face. Sitting cross-legged, I looked into the darkness beyond the crowd and thought I saw a figure move at the edge of the camp behind my father’s massive tent. The height and size of the figure surprised me. And whoever he was, he had unusual eyes; it was like looking into the shiny eyes of a panther. Instinctively, I crossed my fingers to guard against evil magic. Before I could speak or call someone, the eyes faded and the figure disappeared. My heart pounded in my chest like a trapped bird. Everything around me—the smell of burning wood from the fire, the noise of the instruments, the chattering of the people—faded into nothingness. I shot to my feet on wobbly knees. I took a few steps toward the spot where the shiny-eyed being had stood, but I did not step into the darkness. I glanced behind me at my tribe, who continued in their revelry apparently unaware of the visitor. My mouth opened; I thought I should yell to someone, to warn them, but what would I say?
Then another face caught my attention. It was Farrah—perhaps she had seen him too. But she made no gesture and only watched me curiously. Maybe she had not seen anything after all.
I felt the urge to disappear, so I scurried away to my tent. It was time for this night to end. But that was not to be; Pah followed me. I stood on the path and laughed at her. “You are leaving your own wedding party? What will your husband say, Pah?”
“At least I will have a wedding—what will you have, Nefret? You won’t have Alexio!” A beautiful smile spread across her face. It doubly stung that a face so like my own should mock me.
“None of us knows what the future holds, Pah. Are you the Old One now? Can you see the future?”
She laughed aloud. “You believe that? She can’t see anything. Nothing at all. I don’t need the Old One’s sight to know you won’t have Alexio as a husband. I am the mekhma now! You will marry whom I tell you to marry.”
“I shall not marry anyone! What do you want, Pah? You have it all now.”
“I want an apology! You had no right to tell such a story at my wedding. Apologize now!”
It was my turn to laugh. “What?”
“You will apologize, Nefret. Apologize to your mekhma while you still can.” Her voice dropped to a deadly whisper. She inched closer, and the scent of expensive oils wafted around her.
I stared into the face of my first friend and now my greatest enemy. It was as if time stopped for a moment. She stood poised and ready to hear my apology, a proud, victorious look on her face.
“I would rather die.” I tilted my chin and matched her stubborn expression.
Her lips set in straight lines, and anger flashed in her dark green eyes. “That can be arranged.” She turned on her heel and slung her cloak over her shoulder before marching back to her wedding feast. My hands and body shook as I watched her walk away. There were no tears in my eyes, only emptiness in my heart. I would have to leave. I feared what Pah might do to the people I loved. I quickly returned to my small tent. I needed to pack for my journey.
Paimu! For a second, I imagined the worst. Did Pah have something to do with the girl’s disappearance? Could she be that cruel?
I saw a figure waiting for me outside my tent. I froze, thinking it might be the frightening visitor I spotted earlier. But as I drew closer I recognized the tall figure as my father’s. “Nefret!” he whispered.
“Come in, Father.” We walked inside together, and I decided then and there to tell him nothing. He could not suspect my intentions, for I knew he would try to stop me. If the Meshwesh were to follow the Old Ways, then I would be turned away properly and with the tribe’s blessing. That I could not bear. I would rather leave in the night without any type of sendoff. If only I could find Paimu! How could I leave without saying goodbye to her?
“Nefret, I urge you to reconsider your decision. If you marry someone honorable from Omel’s tribe, Omel will surely welcome you and you will live with them for the rest of your life or until we return to Zerzura. Please consider this. Much is changing, and I can no longer protect you from your sister.”
�
��I know that you care for me, Father, but I have no desire to marry anyone.”
“If you spoke kindly to your sister, I am sure she would make the arrangements if you have your heart set on some young man.” I did not answer him. “Please…” For the first time in my life, I saw my father cry. I touched his hand, and he pulled me to his chest and held me close. His hand clutched the back of my head gently as he wept. “I can’t bear to lose you. You are so like your mother, did you know? You have her kind heart, and she loved children as you do. What would Kadeema say if I let you wander away into the Red Sands? She saw all this and could not bear it. Now I must bear it alone.”
Shocked at his emotional outburst, I did not know what to say; I let his tears soak over me until soon I shed my own. “Father, I think it is too late. Pah is determined to see me gone, and I will not disappoint her.”
Breaking our embrace, Father wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. He paced the small tent. “My brother, damn him! Insisting on the Old Ways! I would challenge him if I thought it would change anything.”
“What is done is done. I am not afraid,” I lied with false confidence.
His hands on his hips, he paused his pacing and looked at me. “You should be. These are strange times. You have seen it with your own eyes, and it is even more dangerous for a woman traveling the desert by herself.”
“What do you mean?”
“In the best of times, the desert is no place for a single traveler, but that is especially true now with these attacks.”
“Can’t you call all the tribes here? What if we all stood together against these tall men or whoever is behind this?”
“This oasis is not large enough to support all the Meshwesh. I wish there was another way.” He squeezed my shoulders and stared me in the eye. “When you leave, go to Petra. It is five days from here, far to the north. Go there and present yourself to the Nabataean king. Take this sigil with you and tell him who you are—he will honor me.” I accepted the small painted banner.
“You want me to go to Petra? Isn’t that the home of the jinn?”
“Superstition. Myth. There are no jinn, Nefret. If there ever were, they are long dead now. You should fear the living rather than spirits.”
“Very well, Father. I will go to Petra.”
“When I can, I will send someone to you with supplies. Pack what you can carry, but don’t overburden yourself. Remember what you know. You have been taught well. You can make it, Nefret and I promise that I will not leave you alone.”
I hugged him. He said, “In the meantime, do not push your sister. Pah holds all the power now, and she has very little love for you, although I cannot understand why.”
With a final squeeze of my shoulder, he left me alone. Despite the distant music and the laughter that echoed through the camp, I decided to lie down for a nap. My plan was to rest now and rise early, earlier than even the goatherds. I would leave in the morning and head north to Petra, just as father instructed me. Although fear gripped my heart, I felt some comfort knowing the depth of his love.
I lay down on my pallet and gazed up at the dried flowers that hung from the center pole, Alexio’s gift to me. I would miss him. I would miss dear Paimu. I hoped that when she came out of hiding, she would forgive me for leaving. The more I thought about it, the more I suspected that Ziza had hidden her at Paimu’s request. As my eyelids drooped, I thought about what I would leave her.
She needed new shoes, but I had none that would fit her. Instead, I would leave her my silver bracelets and a few of my gold coins. To my father, I would send my necklace, the treasure that I had found in the desert.
To Alexio, well, I wasn’t sure what to leave him.
I had already given him my heart.
Chapter Eleven
Death—Farrah
My bones hurt, my body and mind felt tired, but I could not refuse the dead girl who stood by my bed.
Her face was gray, her lips were bloodless and her eyes were like bottomless pits of darkness. The girl demanded revenge.
When I first awoke, I thought my spirit-visitor might be Ze, but the dead girl was too small and too young to be my sister. Ze had died as a young woman, not as a child. I lit a candle, and the ghost stepped back, fleeing from the light. She was not ready to leave the shadows until this matter had been settled.
“Paimu!” Realization crept across my face. Without acknowledging what I had said, the dead girl stepped to my tent door and vanished. I followed after her into the darkness. Mina slept at the foot of my bed, but I did not rouse her.
I strained to see into the gloom; an unusual fog had rolled into the camp, making it difficult to see even my own feet. “Where are you, girl?” I whispered into the darkness. Even before the words settled into the air around me, the dead girl reappeared, the fog clearing a bit to reveal her shocking face. “Where are we going? Are you taking me to my death, child?” My heart trembled at the thought.
She raised her finger to her lips. I kept quiet as she led me—a growing feeling of dread cascaded over me. Still I journeyed on behind her. I followed her down the sandy path to the center of the camp. We stood before Pah’s tent door. The girl stepped through the canvas, and I followed her by slipping through the tent opening. How ironic that the mekhma’s guards were asleep at their post! Surely that was this spirit’s doing. Inside were Pah and her stupid husband Yuni, the pair sleeping soundly on a pile of luxurious furs.
I stood over the mekhma and watched as the girl pointed. Ah! Pah had murdered the child, and now Paimu had come for her revenge.
I nudged the sleeping queen with my toe and she awoke with a start, her dark copper hair tangled around her face. “What is it? What are you doing here? Who let you in?”
“They sleep, mekhma…and you have blood on your hands.”
Still sleepy, Pah rubbed her face. “What? What are you talking about, Old One? Can’t this wait?”
Anger welled up inside me. Was it mine? Was it Paimu’s? I did not know. “Standing next to you is the child. The child you murdered and left in the sand. How did you kill her, mekhma? With a dagger? Ah yes, I see her wound.” My hand flew to my stomach, matching the child’s movements.
Pah flew to her feet and said in a whisper, “Lies! You must have a fever, Old One. Now go back to your tent. Do as I command!” She feigned outrage, but I could see the truth in her eyes. She had done this thing! I laughed at her.
The thin red-haired girl ordered me back to my tent again, and still I laughed but not at her. I laughed because it was I who had created all this misery. I had selected Pah over Nefret. I had chosen poorly.
“Stop that! Leave now, Farrah! Before I have you removed! Guards!”
Had I not held her first when she entered this world, even before her parents? I had spoken the words of life over her—I had predicted her rise as mekhma, and this was how she spoke to me.
“You do not command me, young one! As easily as I raised you, I can bring you down. And…” I said with a dark laugh, “you cannot deny justice to the dead. Believe me, I know. Murder exacts a price, even from mekhmas.”
“What is going on here?” Yuni, Pah’s big-eared husband, reached for his tunic and rose from his bed.
“Out!” I shouted at him.
“What?” he said, his hands on his hips, unashamed of his nakedness.
“Order him to leave, Pah, or he may hear something he cannot un-hear.”
Furrowing her brow, Pah told her husband, “Go now, Yuni. All is well, my love.” Her eyes never left mine.
He dressed quickly and left us, pausing once at the door. “Should I call someone?”
Pah smiled at him peacefully. “No, call no one. I will come find you.” I gave her credit; she had all the skills of a great actress. She reached for her robe, sliding it over her body; her hands had disappeared into the voluminous fabric. With a dainty smile so like her sister’s she said, “Now explain yourself, Farrah.”
“I wonder how Yuni would f
eel if it were known that his new wife had come to her marriage bed opened by another man. I care little for these things, but for a mekhma who has pledged to follow the Old Ways, and who came to power under them…”
“You would not dare!” Pah stood so close to my face I could feel her breath on me. The heat of her anger astonished me, but I refused to shudder before one so young.
“Wouldn’t I?”
“If you knew, why wait until now to speak of it?”
“As I said, the condition of your maidenhood is of little concern to me. Although it might be interesting to see your father’s expression when he hears who plucked the fruit from the vine. However, I care little about this matter, and that is not why I came here.”
She eased back a step and drew up her gown with her hands as she stepped back again with narrowed eyes. “Why then have you come, Old One?”
“I awoke with a dead girl standing over me—Paimu, Nefret’s treasure. She led me to you.”
Her eyes widened again and her lips set in a grim line. She said nothing, so I continued.
“You murdered her, Pah—although your motives for doing so are unclear to me. And fortunately for you, the dead do not speak. Whatever your intentions, you must confess your crime and tell us where you hid her body or else you walk under a curse. You had no authority to do such a thing.”
“Lies!” Pah hissed, but I heard the truth in her voice. And the dead girl’s pale face testified against her. Although the mekhma could not see her, I could. Awareness crept over me—I could see again!
“This was a shameful act, a poor way to begin your rule, Pah hap Semkah. Perhaps your tribe will forgive you, but you cannot hide from this deed. The dead have come seeking vengeance.”
“She wasn’t even Meshwesh!”
“Paimu was a treasure of the tribe,” I said firmly. Terror flashed in her eyes, but she quickly recovered.
The Tale of Nefret Page 11