Daughter of Egypt

by Constance O'Banyon

  Thalia crossed her arms over her breasts. “Do not expect pity from me. If you are asking for my forgiveness, I cannot give it.”

  He remained standing and drew in a weary breath. “We have a long journey ahead of us, and I do not want you to spend it in fear. I was told by he who sent me to explain some things to you.”

  “You are the one who filled my childhood with terror,” she lashed out at him. “What do you want with me?”

  He rubbed his thumb across his chin in thoughtfulness before he nodded. “I have spent the better part of seventeen years searching for you. At last I have accomplished my task. You have been a worthy adversary.”

  “I ask you again—why?”

  “Please, Lady, sit. It is not proper for me to sit until you do, and I don’t know how much longer I can stand.”

  Raising her chin to an obstinate angle, Thalia examined the face that had haunted her nightmares. Then she met his onyx gaze. “And why is that? I am not Queen Cleopatra that you must stand in my presence.”

  “Your blood is as royal as the queen of Egypt’s, perhaps even more so. I am but a soldier on a mission, which is to take you back to those who await your homecoming.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Either you toy with me, or you have made a grievous mistake. I’m certainly not who you think I am. I am a daughter of the house of Tausrat. If that does not strike fear in your heart, then you have not heard of my brother, Lord Ramtat, or the power he wields.”

  “I must disagree with you, most esteemed lady. You are not who you think you are.”

  She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “And who do you think I am?”

  “You are the throne princess of the island kingdom of Bal Forea, as was your mother before you.”

  “Are you crazed? I am not that person!”

  “But you are.” He bowed deeply. “And I honor you as such.”

  Dismayed, Thalia shook her head. “I have never heard of such a place.”

  “Nonetheless, it exists.”

  She gave him a disbelieving glare. “You are either crazed, or you have been so long in the sun it has addled your brain.”

  “Nay, Royal One. I am as sane as you. If you doubt me, ask yourself what I would have to gain by speaking falsely.”

  “Your brain is addled if you think I will believe such a falsehood. You kidnap me, hold me prisoner, and then ask me to trust you. I do not even know your name or anything about you.”

  “Many refer to me as Turk.”

  She met his dark gaze and saw distress—either he was a good actor, or he was trying to trick her. “How can I call you by such a name? Surely you have a true name.”

  “If I had any other name, it has long been forgotten.”

  She was intrigued. “And why is that?”

  “As a young man, I was captured from my homeland and taken to Rome, where I was trained to be a gladiator. When I was too old to fight, I became the personal guard of a woman of royal blood. I served her loyally until her death. I serve another now, just as loyally.”

  Thalia eased down on the cot and felt the soft fur against her skin. She watched him nod and sink gratefully onto the stool.

  “Whatever you were paid to capture me, my family will pay more to get me back. Take me home.”

  “My mission is a noble one, so do not think to tempt me with wealth. Shall I tell you about your family, and why they want you back?”

  Thalia nodded reluctantly.

  He folded his huge hands in his lap and looked directly at her. “I served your mother, Princess Jiesa. Her father, the king of Bal Forea, was forcing her to marry a man she despised. Your mother loved the commander of the royal guard and fled with him to Greece, where they were married. A wide search was made for the princess, but she could not be found—her lover hid her well.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Thalia said, but with less conviction than before. “You weave a story, and not even a good one.”

  “Nay, I speak only the truth.”

  “I would hear more of this fable.”

  Turk dropped his huge head for a moment and then glanced back at her. “Not long after your mother fled Bal Forea, the island slipped into civil war. Many people rose up against your grandfather and labeled him a tyrant. Even today the island is torn in half by two warring factions—two men claim the throne, and neither will yield to the other. As the true throne princess, it is hoped that your presence on the island will end this war and reunite the people.” Turk met her gaze, and Thalia lowered her eyes. “Every man, woman and child is sick of bloodshed,” he continued. “Brothers fight against brothers, and no one has the heart for war, but it continues to feed on itself. Only you can bring it to an end, Princess.”

  Thalia stood, her fists clenched. “Do not call me that! You fabricated this tale. I do not believe one word of it. This island does not exist, or I would have heard of it.”

  He rose like someone had pulled a string and jerked him upward. “But it does exist, Highness.”

  “I told you to stop calling me that!” She walked over to him and poked her finger in his chest. “Enough lies. Tell me the truth!”

  He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I knew where to begin my search for you because I had helped your mother escape. She despised your grandfather so much that when the war began she sent me back to help the rebels.”

  “And where did my mother hide?”

  “At a small villa outside Athens. Your father died before you were born.”

  She held up her hand. “Stop! If you are truthful, you tell me my father died with no more emotion than if you were discussing the weather.”

  Turk looked startled, as if he could not guess why she was upset. “Forgive me. I know of no other way to say the truth. I have lived with this so long, I forget what it means to you.”

  “I am not saying I believe you—but if I did, how did the man you say is my father die?”

  “From wounds he’d received in the escape from Bal Forea. He left your mother enough money to survive on if she lived meagerly. She had me sell her jewels, which were worth a great price.”

  “Does this woman you say is my mother still live?”

  He shook his head sorrowfully, or so it seemed to Thalia. “I am sorry to tell you Princess Jiesa died in a fire.”

  Thalia placed her hands over her ears. “Say nothing more of this travesty. I want to go home to the only mother I have ever known.”

  “That will not be possible.”

  A prickle of guilt assailed Thalia. How could she be expected to grieve for a father and mother who may or may not have existed? Still, she could not help but be curious. “Tell me more of this fabrication,” she said, as she took her seat once again.

  Turk eased his bulk back onto the stool. “When your mother sent me back to Bal Forea, she sent a message to her brother, who she trusted. Unfortunately, her brother had died. His wife, Lady Vistah, sent me back to Athens. Little did I know that your grandfather’s spies followed me. A struggle ensued with the king’s agents. A lantern was overturned and started a fire. Your mother fought to save you, but the ceiling caved in, trapping her beneath it. The house went up in flames, and your mother perished, but not before she ordered your nurse to flee to safety with you.”

  “And why did you not follow the nurse?”

  “Unfortunately, I was injured, and it was many months before I could search for you. By then the nurse had hidden you well, leaving no trace.” He reached up and absentmindedly rubbed his finger across the scar on his face.

  “That is how you lost your eye?”

  He nodded.

  Thalia buried her fists into the tiger-skin as a vague memory of flickering flames tugged at her mind. This could explain her nightmares about a burning house. For the first time, she had to admit there might be some semblance of truth in Turk’s words.

  “Tell me more.”

  “Your uncle’s wife, Lady Vistah, took up the search for you and enlisted my help. When next I ha
ppened upon your trail, I was led to a small house outside of Rome. I was told by a neighbor that the old woman who lived there had died, and they did not know what had happened to the small child. You would have been very young at the time.”

  The face of a woman flashed through Thalia’s mind but soon faded. “I remember the nurse. I awoke one morning to find her ill.” Suddenly, memories flowed through Thalia’s mind like a dam bursting. “She told me I had to make my way to Rome and petition someone—I do not recall who. I was too young to remember the details.”

  Turk watched her closely as he spoke, “Since you are of royal blood, she most likely sent you to Pompey or Julius Caesar.”

  “I only remember it took me days of walking to reach Rome. I was frightened and lost with no one to befriend me. I was hungry and ill when I finally reached the city.” Bits and pieces of her memory kept falling into place. She could actually remember the old nurse’s careworn face. Her name was Rainia! How could she have forgotten such a kind and gentle woman?

  Thalia looked into Turk’s eye—he was telling the truth, at least about her time in Rome. She still did not believe she was of royal blood. “How old am I now? I never knew.”

  His hard gaze softened. “At the time you walked to Rome you were only in your sixth summer. You are now in your eighteenth season. On the Ides of Junius, you will turn eighteen.”

  She looked doubtful. “I had thought I was two years older.”

  He actually chuckled. “Many a female would like to take two years off her age.”

  Thalia suddenly froze, and her fear returned. “There may be some truth to what you say, but I am no princess.”

  “If I had any doubts about who you are, I have only to remember your beautiful mother. You have the same look and coloring, and the deep dimple in your chin that is so common in the royal family of Bel Forea.”

  “What if I told you I am not interested in going with you? I don’t care about your island or your war. I only want to go home to my family.”

  “You have no choice, and neither do I.”

  “What will happen to me?”

  “I will be taking you onboard a ship when it is safe to return to Alexandria.”

  “To the man my mother detested?”

  “Nay, nay. I would never take you to King Melik, nor would your mother want me to. You have a cousin, Lord Sevilin. He is a handsome young man who cares what happens to you. He is but five years your senior.”

  “How do you claim we are related?”

  “His mother, Lady Vistah, married Prince Kalavera, your mother’s brother.”

  She studied Turk’s face, trying to understand. “If that is so, you do not need me. This Sevilin must be the true ruler of your island.”

  “Indeed he should be. But it is complicated. Your uncle, Prince Kalavera, was Lord Sevilin’s stepfather. Unfortunately, your uncle died without issue. Lord Sevilin holds out hope that he can one day ascend the throne and unite the people.”

  Thalia was trying to untangle the web of information that whirled through her mind. “It seems to me that if your Lord Sevilin is who you say he is, he has no legitimate claim to the throne.”

  “It grieves me to tell you that your grandfather is not loved by the people. You must understand that if you fell under King Melik’s influence, he would use you for his own gain.”

  Thalia was clever enough to see what Turk had left unsaid. “And the lord you represent would use me for his gain.”

  “You misunderstand. Lord Sevilin’s only hope is to reunite the country—with your help, that could be accomplished.”

  “You are asking me to choose between two men I have never known, both of whom want to rule an island I have never heard of.”

  “In truth, Princess, you have no choice. Others will make that decision for you. When you meet Lord Sevilin, you will know that his cause is just.”

  “I have a family I love here in Egypt. By now they will be frantic with worry. They must be told that I’m safe.”

  Turk stood and towered over her. “That is not possible.”

  “I order you to take me home.”

  “I cannot do that.”

  “If what you say is true, and if I am this throne princess, should you not obey me?”

  His sudden smile curled his lips. “I will obey you in most everything, but not when it goes against your obligation to Bal Forea.”

  “Then the title is meaningless.”

  He looked perturbed, but his one good eye slowly widened. “I almost forgot—I have a gift I was told to present to you.” He reached inside his robe, withdrew an ivory box and handed it to her. “Lord Sevilin wanted you to have this as a token of his goodwill.”

  Thalia merely stared at the ivory box, making no attempt to take it from him. “I do not want his trinkets.”

  Turk opened the box himself and withdrew a shimmering gold chain with an amethyst shaped like a huge teardrop. It was stunning, but she had no desire to own it.

  “Return it to your lord and tell him I refuse his gift as well as the offer of his … hospitality. I have jewels of my own at home. Some of them were a gift from Queen Cleopatra, and quite valuable.”

  Turk dropped the necklace back into the box and slammed the lid shut. “You have no desire to come with me even after I have told you that your presence could end a civil war?”

  “Why should I believe you? I am not an innocent to be lured by treasures. I have only your word that I am of royal blood.”

  His jaw hardened, and the jagged scar became more pronounced. “You should want to accompany me, if for no other reason than to exact revenge upon the man who is responsible for your mother’s death.”

  “Again, I have only your word for that. If you speak truth, accompany me to my home and tell this to my family. Then we shall put your case before Queen Cleopatra and allow her to decide what I should do.”

  “My orders are to bring you directly to the island.”

  “As a child I was frightened of you, and I still am. If you want to gain my trust, do not take me away from my home. Let us seek my queen’s advice.”

  “As much as I would like to gain your trust, I will certainly not be seeking an audience with the Egyptian queen. It saddens me that you rail against your duty. When we reach Bal Forea you will know I speak the truth.” He moved to the tent opening and shoved it aside. “I suggest you get some sleep.”

  “By now all Egypt will be looking for me,” Thalia warned.

  “That is true, but they will not find you. You might like to know that an agent of the king has arrived in Egypt and is also searching for you.”

  Thalia looked bemused. “It would seem I am more important than I could ever have imagined.”

  “You are fortunate it was I who found you. The Destroyer would not have been as patient with you as I have been.”

  Thalia stared at him. “I know of whom you speak. He approached me in my garden. He said I was in danger—” Her eyes widened with understanding. “The danger he was warning me of was you!”

  Turk’s face actually whitened. “The Destroyer has a reputation of always getting what he goes after. How did you escape him?”

  “I learned to survive, thanks to you. If I had taken that man’s advice, you would not have caught me.”

  “Know this. The Destroyer will not care about anything but taking you to your grandfather. Be warned, you do not want to fall into his hands.”

  Chapter Nine

  The hour was late, and Jamal hesitated in front of Lady Larania’s chamber, wishing he had better news to give her. Gathering his courage, he rapped softly on her door and called, “Mistress, may I speak with you?”

  Badaza opened the door and gazed worriedly at the guard. “The mistress will see you,” she said, nodding toward the small sitting room. “Wait for her in there, and she will come directly.” The servant saw the grim expression on the guard’s face. “You must not upset our lady.”

  “I would not if I could do otherwise—there is
no help for it.” Jamal had hardly entered the small chamber when his mistress came rushing in, clutching her green dressing gown, her hair uncombed, her eyes red from weeping. Her worried gaze settled on his face. “Tell me quickly—have you found my daughter?”

  Jamal avoided her eyes. Lady Larania was held in great esteem by the Badari Bedouin: As a princess of the blood, her father had been the sheik, and now her son held that honored position. She was beloved by all, and her pain was their pain. “One of my men found the horses and chariot. A family living just outside the city recognized who they belonged to. The father approached one of my men and led him to the chariot.” Jamal handed her the ebony box, his eyes sad.

  “What is this?”

  “It is the ring Lady Thalia picked up from the goldsmith today.”

  Lady Larania felt heavy despair. “Then the motive could not have been robbery, or the man would have taken the ring. If that is so, we will not be receiving a ransom demand either.”

  Jamal was loath to dash Lady Larania’s hopes, but he had no choice. “I believe we can rule out both of those reasons,” he said cautiously.

  Her face paled, and she clutched the back of a chair. “Then what can be the motive? My daughter—what can that horrid man want with her?” She could think of many reasons a man would want Thalia, and her fear escalated.

  “Mistress,” Jamal said with concern, “will you not be seated? Allow me to call your maid to fetch you a cup of wine.”

  She waved him away. “Think not of me. It is my daughter that must be foremost in all our minds.”

  “We questioned the family who found the chariot, but none of them were at home when it was abandoned.”

  Lady Larania bowed her head, her loose hair falling across her face. “Was there … did you see any blood on the chariot?”

  The fierce warrior’s voice was gentle. “No, Mistress. Nothing like that.”

  She paced the room, dragging her hair out of her face and sweeping it behind her ears, then drawing her shawl across her shoulders. “Thalia will be frightened.”

  Her voice shook with emotion and took on a pleading tone when she cried, “Bring her home to me!”