Longing's Levant

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Kaibyn’s ghost rippled for a moment then subsided though the wavering image increased in size. “What is this coalition of which you speak? What is the purpose of such a thing?”

  Relieved the demon had accepted begrudgingly the existence of the third member of the coalition, Jabali breathed a sigh of relief. Once again, he armed the sweat from his brow. “To rid our world of a dangerous alliance that has come about within the last three days,” he replied. “An alliance…left unchecked…that could well destroy the world as we know it.”

  “Between whom?”

  Jabali wished he could sit down for his aged bones were plaguing him. He was overly hot and his heart was racing, his head pounding. Being well into the eighth year past his 100th birthday, he was beginning to feel the arms of the Gatherer closing around him. It would not be many more months before he was laid to rest in a necropolis similar to the one in which he stood.

  “You can rest when you have given me a reason for not pulling the head from your puny body,” Kaibyn sneered. “Tell me who this alliance is!”

  “The King of Kebul, he who ordered you put to death, and Lilit, Queen of the Daughters of the Night,” Jabali answered.

  For a moment, the faraway sound of bats winging about the interior of the necropolis was all Jabali heard. Though the tomb in which he stood was as bright as day with the image of Kaibyn Zafeyr hulking in front of the Mage, there was a gathering darkness beyond that was harsher than a moonless night.

  Kaibyn sidled closer to the Mage. “How do you come to know of an alliance between those vile offspring of their mother’s diseased wombs?”

  “It was the Dabiyan who discovered the connection, milord, and he was on his way to tell Lord Evann-Sin when he was ruthlessly murdered.”

  “The Dabiyan was a servant of the Akkadian jackal?”

  “An operative, I believe the word to be,” Jabali corrected. “He was Lord Evann-Sin’s eyes and ears in the desert.”

  Something wicked moved over the demon’s face. “And was his friend,” he said with a jeer.

  Jabali reminded himself to be more careful of his thoughts for the demon had plucked the connection between Evann-Sin and Rabin from his overly tired mind. He nodded. “Aye, Your Grace, they were friends,” he said, daring not lie to the demon. “They still are.”

  Kaibyn grimaced but made no comment. Instead, he turned toward the stairs and with a great rush of wind fled the confines of the hot burial chamber.

  Jabali closed his eyes for a moment, grateful that the demon had fled the heat. He gathered his satchel and candle and wearily climbed the steps to the outside, grateful for the residual light of the demon’s passing that lit the stairs. Once in the brutal glare of the desert sun, the Mage walked as fast as he could to his assistant.

  “Did you see him exit the necropolis?” Jabali asked.

  Tashobi shook his head. “I saw nothing, Master.” He hastened to supply the older man with the dwindling water skin. “I felt his passing, though. It knocked me down.”

  Jabali swigged the tepid water, easing the parching of his throat. He poured some of the precious fluid into his palm then swiped it over his face.

  “Will he return?” Tashobi inquired.

  “When he has accomplished two things—secondly, he will punish the woman who left him in this place,” Jabali replied. “I doubt that will take long, for he is intrigued by news of the alliance.”

  “Did he say as much, Master?”

  Jabali shook his head. “He did not need to. I saw the fury in his eyes the moment I mentioned who the villains in this are.”

  “And his first task, Master?”

  “He will seek out Evann-Sin.”

  Chapter Six

  “I’ve not heard of this Zafeyr,” Evann-Sin mumbled. He glanced at Rabin. “What about you?”

  “What I know is this—there are two men by that name in the Inner Kingdom. Both are deadly and both are demons in their own right. One is confined to the island at Akasha, unable to flee for he cannot travel over running water. The other runs free. It is rumored there is a demon in Kebul and I believe that is Kaibyn Zafeyr,” Rabin replied.

  “Until today, I would not have thought such beings existed, but I’m talking to a dead man so what do I know?” Evann-Sin sighed.

  “I’ve always believed in demons,” Rabin said. He grinned. “Have you seen the women of Kebul?”

  “Not the prettiest of females,” Evann-Sin remarked.

  “Aye, but I would venture to say the hairiest, by far,” Tamara giggled.

  “Thus the need for the black robes that cover them head to toe,” Rabin put in. “And a demon to warm their beds on cold desert nights when their menfolk can’t bring themselves to touch those hairy bodies.”

  “Why would we need a demon, though?” Evann-Sin asked. “I…”

  “When you need to deal with women, you bring in an expert.”

  The disembodied voice was smug, filled with amusement. Evann-Sin, Rabin and Tamara looked up as a body materialized there in the tent with them. To the men, the entity that took form was nothing out of the ordinary, but to Tamara he was the handsomest man she had ever seen. Her lips parted and she stared at him as though she were starving.

  “You are Zafeyr,” Evann-Sin snapped, very aware of his woman’s reaction to the newcomer.

  Kaibyn ignored the question, turning his full attention to Tamara. His eyes widened. “The Mage did not tell me I would have a beautiful lady with whom to work.”

  Tamara blushed, lowering her eyes to the compliment. When she glanced at Evann-Sin, she saw a muscle working in his cheek, his gaze unfriendly as he regarded the demon.

  “The only thing you will be doing with my woman is showing your respect,” Evann-Sin grated.

  Still ignoring the men, Kaibyn walked to Tamara and took her hand, and brought it to his lips. With his eyes locked on hers, he placed a gentle kiss in her palm. “Milady,” he whispered, “I have all the respect in the world for one as lovely as you.”

  The fierce growl that erupted from the Akkadian’s throat made Rabin step back quickly. He’d heard that sound of fury before, and it did not bode well for whoever caused it. He winced as the demon was shoved across the tent to land in a heap on the pallet Evann-Sin and Tamara had shared.

  “Don’t you ever touch my woman again, demon!” Evann-Sin roared, going to stand over Kaibyn. He stood there—rigid as stone—with his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Eyes flashing dangerously, teeth clenched, he looked every inch the lethal warrior he had been trained to be.

  Tamara rushed to her lover’s side and took his sword arm, clutching it to her as fiercely as any woman had ever tried to stay her man’s anger. “He meant nothing, warrior,” she was quick to say. “He knows I belong to you!”

  Kaibyn lay on the pallet, glaring up at the Akkadian. His own hands were balled into fists, his eyes narrowed into slits. With his lips skinned back from his teeth, he no longer looked as handsome as Tamara first thought, and she realized what was said and done now would either make it possible for these two men to work together or would forever have them at each other’s throat.

  “Riel,” she said softly, drawing her lover’s surprised eyes to hers. “I am yours and will be ‘til the day I draw my last breath on this earth. If there is an afterlife, I will continue to love you ‘til time is no more.” She squeezed his arm. “Do you doubt that?”

  The Akkadian shook his head. “Nay, but…”

  “Then know that nothing and—” she turned her gaze to the demon, “—no man will ever come between us. I am yours for as long as you want me.”

  For a long, charged moment, the warrior and the demon glared at one another then slowly their body postures relaxed. Tamara’s words had diffused the rage coursing through the men and put the matter into a perspective both could tolerate.

  “Now behave like the gentlemen I know you are, and let’s get on with what needs to be done,” Tamara advised. She released Evann-Sin’s arm a
nd stepped back, casting a rolling eyes look at Rabin that made that warrior smile.

  Despite his dislike and distrust for the demon, Evann-Sin extended his hand. “As long as you know how things stand.”

  After a momentary pause, Kaibyn reached out and grabbed the Akkadian’s hand and levered himself to his feet. As he stood there, his wrist in Evann-Sin’s grip, his own fingers wrapped around the warrior’s strong wrist, their gazes fused, he made a silent vow to take the Akkadian’s woman away from him.

  When the two men let go of each other’s wrists without further male posturing, Tamara breathed a sigh of relief. “So where do we start?” she asked.

  “First, we get out of this tent,” Rabin said. “I may not be sweating but I do not care for such close quarters.”

  “For a darkling,” Kaibyn remarked, “you have no vile stench.”

  Rabin blinked.

  Tamara groaned, thinking now there would be a problem between these two men, but Evann-Sin threw back his head and laughed.

  “And that is a definite improvement,” the warrior chuckled.

  Rabin lifted his arms and sniffed his armpits. “Are you sure the scent is gone, Riel?” he asked, his forehead creased.

  “Aye, I’m sure. I hadn’t noticed until Zafeyr commented on it, but your sour smell is no longer there.” Evann-Sin looked down at Tamara. “The man has always reeked so badly his wife could not share a bed with him.”

  “What of me?” Kaibyn inquired. “Do you suppose my natural body odor has fled?” He frowned. “That would not be a good thing because I have been told the ladies find it alluring.”

  Evann-Sin walked over to Kaibyn. He frowned. “You have a musky odor.” He turned to Tamara. “Come smell him, lady, and see what you think.”

  Tamara shook her head. “No, I can smell him from here and it is an unpleasant scent.”

  “What?” Kaibyn gasped. He did as Rabin had then slowly lowered his arm. “I stink!”

  “Could it be that whatever you were in life, you are the opposite in un-life?” Evan-Sinn asked.

  Horror shifted over Kaibyn’s face and he backed away, one hand up as though to forestall any further bad news. “Nay, for I had ladies flocking around me constantly.” He shook his head. “I liked it that way. To know that I no longer will be able to have their affections is a fate far worse than this un-death!”

  “Perhaps the gods have something loftier in mind for you, milord,” Tamara said softly. “Something infinitely more important.”

  “Like finding the women who harmed us,” Evan-Sinn suggested.

  Kaibyn narrowed his eyes. “Aye, now that I will gladly make my un-life’s work!”

  “I believe you have no worry about enticing women, milord,” Tamara said. “I find you most alluring, if a bit unripe.” She put a hand to her nose but her eyes were twinkling.

  A pained look spread over Kaibyn’s face. “But what can I do about that, wench?” he asked, trying once more to sniff at any offending odor under his armpits. He could detect no difference.

  Evann-Sin put his arm around his woman. “You find him handsome, Tamara,” he stated. “Not alluring.”

  Tamara rested her head on her lover’s shoulder. “That was what I meant,” she mumbled.

  Still annoyed that he possessed a smell a beautiful woman found offensive, Kaibyn shook his head. “What can I do?” he repeated.

  “Myrrh?” Rabin suggested.

  “Cinnamon,” Tamara said with a knowing look. “Cinnamon will cover the muskiness.”

  The demon winced at her description of his smell. “Have you this spice?” he asked.

  “Nay, but it is easily procured,” she replied.

  “I hope it works better for him than it ever did for Rabin,” Evann-Sin muttered.

  Tamara shushed her lover for she feared another confrontation between the two warriors. She took a seat at the fire and held her hands to the heat. She smiled as Rabin came to sit down beside her.

  “Were they Hell Hags who murdered you?” Evann-Sin asked, as he seated himself on the other side of Tamara.

  “Nay,” Kaibyn replied. “They were Kebullian, but I have heard of such bitches.”

  Lifting her chin, Tamara speared him with a haughty look. “Not all the Daughters of the Night are bitches, milord.”

  “True,” Evann-Sin agreed. “One is a veritable goddess.” He took his lady’s hand and kissed it.

  “That she is,” Kaibyn said seductively, pretending not to see Evann-Sin’s glower.

  “The ones who killed you were not part of the alliance, then?” Rabin asked quickly.

  “The King of Nebul ordered my execution but it was Dakhla who tried to deny me my return to the world of the living. I do not believe the other women knew what she had planned for me,” Kaibyn said through clenched teeth. “Jealous bitch that she is, I can see now my taking pity on her friends made her wish revenge.”

  “By taking pity, I presume you mean seducing them,” Evann-Sin scoffed.

  Kaibyn nodded slowly. “Aye and I have no quarrel with them. My Lady Auklet took the High Priest’s life, and for that I will reward her. It is Dakhla, King Oded and Meketre, the Captain of the Guard, who will soon know my vengeance. As for why she betrayed me? Dakhla has dreams of being Queen of Kebul. It was she who informed the king, not the Queen Lilabet. That one would never have betrayed me.”

  “Did the Magi tell you why this alliance was formed?” Evann-Sin asked.

  “All I was told was that the alliance could destroy the world as we know it,” Kaibyn answered.

  “King Oded wants to live forever,” Rabin pronounced, and the others turned to him.

  “Oded is as crazy as a loon!” Kaibyn snorted.

  “Aye, but our queen could make him One with the Blood,” Tamara reminded them softly.

  “What exactly does that mean?” Evann-Sin asked her.

  “A vampire,” Kaibyn replied. “Aren’t all Hell Hags?”

  Tamara wrapped her arms around and leaned closer to the warmth of the fire. “I am only partly of the Blood, for I chose not to become an eleventh degree adept.”

  “That bitch, Sylviana, said she was ninth degree. What are you?” Evann-Sin asked.

  “Tenth now that I have taken Sylviana’s evil life for what she did to you,” Tamara told her lover. “I can go no higher unless I agree to become One with the Blood.”

  “A drinker of blood,” Kaibyn put in.

  Tamara agreed. “Such was not my desire. I have had my blood taken by our queen—as we all must—but I have never drank of hers.” She shuddered. “The thought of living forever never appealed to me.”

  Evann-Sin put his arms around her and pulled her close to him. “The thought of that wicked thing sticking her fangs into you makes me ill.”

  “So Oded wants to live forever,” Kaibyn stated, annoyed with the sight of the lovely Tamara in the warrior’s embrace. “What is it Lilit wants?”

  “His protection?” Rabin questioned.

  “She doesn’t need it,” Tamara said. “She is more powerful than any human king will ever be or hope to be as One with the Blood, for she was supernaturally born.”

  “There has to be a reason she is willing to share her authority with a retarded prick like Oded,” Kaibyn spat.

  “But will she be sharing her authority?” Evann-Sin asked.

  “What do you mean, Riel?” Rabin asked.

  “Who will be Oded’s queen?” Evann-Sin countered.

  “That bitch Dahkla if she has her way, but you can take her out of the equation,” Kaibyn sneered. “That I will never allow! And I will protect my Lilabet. Oded will not put her aside to wed Lilabet’s daughter Meritaten either, though he’s been conniving toward that end!”

  “My king will need to know this is in the making,” Evann-Sin said. “Our Tribunal believes Oded has too much power as it is.”

  Kaibyn lifted his head. “You and the darkling have been watching him, eh?”

  “The darkling has,” Rabin snapped
. He threw the demon an angry look. “Riel is the warrior to whom I report what I find.”

  “What is a Rysalian doing as Lord High Commander of the Akkadian Forces anyway?” Kaibyn asked. “Don’t Akkadians hate Rysalians even worse than they hate Kebullians?”

  Evann-Sin’s arms tensed around Tamara. “I am half-Rysalian and half-Akkadian. My mother is from Nonika and that is my home.”

  Kaibyn blinked. “Your father is Akkadian?” When Evann-Sin did not answer, the demon slowly smiled. “The King of Akkadia is your sire?”

  Feeling her lover’s body go rigid, Tamara turned so she could look into his face. “You are a prince?” she whispered. He looked down at her but remained silent.

  “King Numair, the Panther, is your sire!” Kaibyn exclaimed, and slapped his knee with the flat of his hand. “Aye, but that is rich!”

  “Is it true?” Tamara asked but still her lover did not speak.

  “His parentage is not something he likes to talk about,” Rabin injected. “Leave him be, lady.”

  “Aye, but why doesn’t he want to talk about it?” Kaibyn chuckled.

  Evann-Sin let go of Tamara and bounded to his feet. He cast the demon a warning look then stalked out of the tent. Tamara would have followed him, but Rabin pleaded with her not to do so.

  “He’s a powerful man,” Tamara said, looking from Rabin to the demon. “He is a man much respected in all lands. Why would Riel not be proud of his sire?”

  Kaibyn settled back on the cot and folded his arms. “Aye, darkling. Why would he not be proud to admit he is the son of the almighty Numair?”

  A muscle ground in Rabin’s dark cheek. “Riel Evann-Sin is as mighty a warrior as King Numair is a powerful man. He has no reason to ride the coattails of the Panther.”

  “That may be true, but something tells me the son denies the father,” Kaibyn cooed.

  “That isn’t it!” Rabin snapped. “It is the father who denies the son!” Realizing he had been tricked into making that statement, the Dabiyan warrior doubled his fists and would have flung himself upon the demon if Kaibyn had not fled the tent in a rush of cold wind.