The slow beat of hooves accompanied the forest rhythms in a hypnotic counterpoint, while the sour smell of rotting vegetation infused the moist breeze with an atmosphere of spring renewal. Squirrels dashed through towering trees, and the occasional conclave of mushrooms huddled amidst the mossy ground, watching dawn ignite the heavens.
“Look.” Kayla pointed to a butterfly as it struggled free of its chrysalis. They halted on both sides of the low-hanging branch while the colorful wings unfolded.
“Do you think it remembers its previous life?” she asked.
Ishan leaned close as it shook off the remnants of its former body. “The only thing for certain is that it’s a miracle of God’s design.”
“The monk used to tell me I would transform into my own butterfly someday,” Kayla said. “On my tenth birthday, I told him I knew he lied, that being a cripple was forever. He never mentioned butterflies after that.”
In a spasm of freedom, the wings blurred into a rainbow, and the resurrected caterpillar left its former two-dimensional earth-bound universe for the three dimensions of earth, air, and sky.
The horses resumed their ambling gait, and she glanced at Ishan from the corner of her eye. If only she could discuss her books with him. What good was knowledge that couldn’t be shared?
Do I dare tell him?
She flipped her reins from side to side. “Have you ever found any books from before Potemia’s founding?”
Ishan jerked his horse to a stop.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
“You know that all books from the past are evil.”
“The Bible is a book from the past,” she said. “So is the Quran.”
“You shouldn’t joke about this.”
“I thought you might have come across such things in your travels.”
His gaze interrogated her with an uncomfortable intensity. “Yes, we occasionally find pre-Potemian books in old ruins.”
Kayla’s heart leapt. “What do they say?”
“Do you think I’d read such a thing?” He spat on the ground as if to clear his mouth of a spoiled piece of meat. “When we find such evil relics, we burn them.”
A stab in her gut. “Oh. Of course.”
Ishan’s eyes narrowed. “Have you found such books?”
“Where would I find anything like that around here?” She spurred her horse into a trot, and he came alongside.
“You know where,” he said, his face shadowed with concern.
“I know it’s against the law.”
Ishan grabbed the reins of her horse and pulled them both to a stop. “Do you promise me you’ll never read such a dangerous thing if you ever have the chance?”
“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” She fidgeted in her saddle. “After all, they’re just words.”
“They’re evil words.”
She lifted her chin as if defending a maligned relative. “How do you know they’re evil if you haven’t read any?”
“Because the Founder read them and told us!”
“Don’t you trust me to separate good from evil? Or do you imagine I’m so weak-willed that I can’t think for myself?”
Ishan placed his hand on hers. “Promise me,” he said.
For a long while she stayed silent. Could she risk losing her only friend?
“Okay, I promise.”
My second lie to him.
His body relaxed. “I’m sorry to be so serious, but you have to understand how dangerous such things are. This world is merely a testing ground for the next life.” Ishan gestured to the forest. “Look at the wonders God has provided for us. Shouldn’t we concentrate on proving our worthiness for entry into Heaven, rather than vainly thinking we can improve on God’s design? Isn’t all this enough?”
“You sound like Minister Coglin,” she said.
“Ouch, that hurts!” His face split into a wide grin. “Enough talk—catch me if you can!”
Ishan kicked his stallion into a gallop, and she thundered after, dodging and swerving through the forest like an avalanche of youthful joy. Kayla laughed at the release from her normal limitations. But she slowly lost ground as his faster horse outpaced her own.
Think! There must be a way. A wide stream appeared ahead, and an idea bloomed in her mind. That’s my chance.
She veered sharply away.
With a triumphant whoop, Ishan splashed into the stream and turned right. His horse churned the water as it galloped toward the entrance of a narrow forest gully. Then Ishan reined up to a stop before a motionless Kayla, sitting triumphant atop her mare.
“How could you have known which direction I’d go?”
“We’ve been friends for a long time, so I suppose it’s only right that I tell you.” Kayla bugged her eyes for effect. “I can read minds.”
“Are you serious?”
Her hands danced in the air, as if conjuring a spell. “The immortal Oracle of Delphi blessed me with the third eye of prophecy in a dream. Ever since that mystical encounter, I can see … the future!”
Ishan grimaced. “Fine, if you don’t want to tell me.”
Kayla laughed, easing her horse next to his. “You know mind-reading is impossible.”
“But how else could you know?”
“Very simple—I guessed.”
Ishan frowned. “But what if you were wrong?”
“Well, I knew you’d either go left or right at the stream,” she said. “Your horse is faster than mine, so I’d never catch you if I followed, no matter which direction you chose. So I balanced the certainty of losing if I didn’t guess, to the the one-out-of-two opportunity of getting ahead of you if I did. Not to mention the amazement I’d inspire in your gullible little mind.”
Ishan smiled. “You’re right, of course. It seems so obvious now that you explain it.”
If only I could show you my book on Game Theory.
“Despite my blinding intellect, I still require your manly strength to liberate me from this horse.”
“I’m so glad a dumb brute like me still has a use!” Ishan vaulted off his stallion, and she slid into his outstretched arms. He carried her across the brook while she draped her hands around his neck, feeling the lithe muscles beneath his skin. Losing her crutch had proved her best luck yet.
When they reached the water’s edge, he playfully tossed her into the air. “I think you could do with a bath!”
She screamed. “You are a barbarian! The village is right to ban you from sight of the church tower.”
He laughed and eased her onto the mossy bank. He glanced her way a few times but remained silent. A knot formed in her stomach. Was there bad news? Was his father sending him away to battle?
“On my last visit,” he said, “you implied no one would ever want to marry you.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
He gazed into her eyes and leaned close. Then his lips pressed against hers, and her mind swirled from the shock. The taste of his lips held a hint of cinnamon, and she breathed in the salty musk of his sweat as one might a feast.
His lips brushed her ear. “Kayla Nighthawk, I love you, and I want you to become my wife.”
Her body tingled. This is what I’ve always dreamed of. Why the hesitation?
“Have you considered what your father—”
“Forget my father!”
She pulled back from him. “What would a crippled bride do to your status in the tribe? I’m a Christian and you’re a Muslim. Where would we live? How would we support ourselves?”
“I tell you I love you, and all you talk about is …” Insecurity shadowed his face. “Or maybe you’re being kind. Letting me know that you don’t feel the same way…”
“I loved you from the moment I first met you!”
He took her hand. “Then become my wife.”
“Yes, I will marry you!” Her shout startled a flock of guinea fowl into an explosion of flight.
She melted into his arms and kissed him
. He responded with equal hunger. Her fingers explored his back, chest, neck, and face, while his lips caressed her earlobes, forehead, and even the left side of her face.
Only Ishan could love my scars.
She kissed the raised designs on his cheeks, the symbols of his manhood.
A jolt surged through her, like the sensation of falling just before sleep. She moaned and raised her hips against his, and he responded. He lifted her shirt and kissed her breasts. A lifetime of sermons couldn’t convince her this was anything but right and beautiful. The smell of crushed grass mixed with the cool fragrance of the stream and bathed them in nature’s embrace.
Her breaths jerked in short gasps, and goose bumps rose beneath his fingers. She reached for his robe—but he pulled back and guided her hand away.
“I won’t let anyone say I married you in shame,” he whispered. “My wife will be pure until her wedding night.”
She hugged him fiercely, disappointed and proud in equal measure.
They lay together, the dappled sun dancing across their half-naked bodies, his black skin overlapping hers like the stripes of a zebra.
I wonder what shade our children will be?
The lullaby of the stream eventually pulled her into half-sleep.
A shadow crossed her face, and her eyes fluttered open. A creature with splayed horns loomed. Was it Melchi, the demon from her dream?
“I hope we’re not interrupting?” a deep voice said.
Two figures next to the horned creature laughed in crude disharmony. She pushed Ishan’s hand off her naked breast and covered herself.
“We’re not alone,” she said.
Ishan’s eyes opened. He vaulted to his feet and ran toward his horse and, more important, his bow.
The two smaller figures pounced on him. Ishan twisted, kicked, and thrashed, but they bent his arms behind his back until he stopped struggling.
“Let him go!” Kayla shouted.
The horned beast stepped into a sunbeam, revealing Elias, Minister Coglin’s son. On his broad back hung a dead antelope. Not a mythical monster after all, but one from this world.
Elias wore furs and hides of the animals he’d tracked and slain. A necklace of lion’s claws hung from his neck. The giant towered above his two companions, Isaac and David. Both still outweighed the slim Ishan, whom they dragged before him.
Elias tossed Kayla’s lost crutch on top of her and released the rope securing the antelope. The dead animal hit the ground with a thump. Though only a year older than her, his immense size marked him a leader, and the pride of his father. “You dare defile yourself with a dirty, godless Muslim!”
“We’re to be married,” Ishan said.
“We heard.” David and Isaac laughed.
Please, God, I need your help.
Elias frowned. “I think my father would decree a punishment of fifty lashes for such immorality with a heathen.”
“My actions harm no one.”
“This is not for you to judge, woman!” Elias reached for his belt, and her blood went cold.
“I will administer the lashes myself.” His tongue slid across his lips, and he yanked the braided leather belt from his waist. She crawled backward, her arms trembling.
“I will take the punishment for her,” Ishan said.
Elias scowled. “I should kill you for defiling our women, even one as ugly as this.” Elias spat on Kayla’s twisted foot. “But she alone falls under Christian law.”
Kayla stared into his icy blue eyes, the only thing that resembled his father. The belt rose, then snapped across her deformed cheek, tearing it to the bone. The force of the blow spun her to the ground facefirst.
“One,” Elias said.
The second lash tore through her shirt, the braids acting like the teeth of a saw, and ripped a deep gash across her back. Despite the agony, she clamped her jaw tight and bore her punishment in silence.
“Two.”
The third lash tore open the backs of her thighs. The blood soaked her skirt and flowed onto the ground. Still, she remained silent.
“Three.”
I won’t survive this.
Ishan writhed in a wild attempt to free himself. “Fight me like a man, you coward!”
The giant’s hand stilled, and he faced Ishan. “You want to fight me?”
Kayla shook her head as bile rose into her throat. “No, Ishan, I’ll be—”
Ishan silenced her with a glance and glared at Elias. “One-on-one, man-to-man. If I win, you leave Kayla alone.”
Elias tossed his belt aside and smiled. “Okay, it’s a deal.” He stepped toward Ishan and motioned to his companions. “Let him go.”
David and Isaac released their captive. The Muslim boy brought his fists up, eyes alert. Elias sauntered forward, eyes mocking. No one in the village would dare face him one-on-one. Kayla’s lips moved in silent prayer as she gripped the cross hanging from her neck.
Ishan dashed forward and ducked under the thick arms, punching into the gut, then dancing back of range.
Elias laughed. “Is that it?” The giant straightened, shoulders back, belly forward, and hands posted on his hips. “Give it another try.” His companions’ jeers rattled through the clearing.
Ishan charged. But instead of punching the rocklike gut, he aimed high, near the limit of his reach. A sickening crunch sounded as fist met nose.
Elias bellowed, his hands covering his face. Blood showered the ground. Ishan cradled his knuckles, and David and Isaac pounced on him.
“No!” the wounded giant commanded. “He’s mine!”
Ishan and Elias faced off again. This time, the minister’s son hunched like a wrestler. Blood oiled his chin, tunic, and the ground in a scarlet sheen. Kayla’s face, back, and legs bled as she watched.
Please help him, God.
Elias charged, but Ishan dodged the clumsy grasp and kicked the giant’s ankles from under him. Driven by his own momentum, Elias collapsed in a sprawling heap.
A glowing heat filled Kayla with pride and hope.
With a grimace, Elias climbed to his feet, favoring his left shoulder. David and Isaac fell silent, stunned. Ishan now moved with new confidence, while caution crept into Elias’s movements.
Ishan went on the attack. He moved with the grace of his lean form, striking with the quick, hit-and-run tactics his people had long utilized in their tribal feuds. He struck at knees, throat, and the already damaged nose. Attack, retreat. Attack, retreat. Hitting the weak points, always dodging the flailing grasp of his slower opponent.
The giant gasped and snorted like an exhausted bull. His blood dripped into the dirt.
Her heart soared.
“Teach him not to mess with our women!” David shouted.
“Beat his skinny ass!” Isaac encouraged.
They’ll never leave him alone if Ishan wins.
The fight drifted toward the stream. Ishan subtly maneuvered Elias between himself and his friends. With just a few more yards to the side, Ishan would have a clear path to their horses—and his bow and arrow. No one could match Ishan’s skill with the bow.
Elias stumbled, creating a perfect opening.
Ishan launched himself toward his horse, but the giant leapt into his path. He twisted to avoid the huge arms, but they wrapped around him like a vise and bore him to the ground in a flailing pile.
Kayla gasped. The stumble had been a ruse.
Ishan struck at the broken nose, but Elias shrugged aside the pain, pounding anything within reach. His massive fists rose and fell like scarlet sledgehammers. After a time, Ishan stopped struggling.
Kayla crawled toward the slaughter. Elias drove his fists into the pulverized mass beneath him as if grinding wheat. David and Isaac cheered him on like howling monkeys in a frenzy. She rose to her knees and latched onto one of the huge arms.
Elias paused and glared at her. Blood from his nose mingled with that from Ishan, transforming him into a crimson demon. His breath rasped from his heaving chest, and
his face contorted in a snarl of rage.
“Please don’t kill him.”
“What will you trade me for his life?”
“I have nothing of value.”
He leered in response, and she drew in her breath at his unspoken demand.
Not that. Not here.
Ishan, his face unrecognizable beneath the mashed flesh, gurgled bloody foam from his throat, eyes swollen nearly shut. The words of the monk echoed in her mind. Everything of value has a price.
Kayla pulled her shirt over her head and let it fall to the ground. “You can have me in payment.” Elias gazed at her naked breasts and smiled. She turned her head to hide the distorted and bloody half of her face, making her offering as tempting as possible.
Elias abandoned Ishan and shoved her to the ground. He tore the skirt from her like an enraged animal. Blood from his face spattered her breasts and stomach. Then he yanked her thighs apart.
Ishan’s face rolled toward her, one eye peeking through a swollen slit.
He’s alive. That’s all that matters.
Kayla closed her eyes and attempted leaving her body far behind, as the monk did when meditating. She escaped to a memory of her white-bearded guardian awakening from one such trance when she was a child.
“Where do you go when you meditate?” she’d asked him.
“I travel the night sky and hop from star to star.”
“Do you speak to angels up there?”
“Oh yes, and they tell me that Kayla of Potemia will be a beautiful goddess someday.”
“You’re making fun of me—”
Excruciating pain yanked her back to the mossy bank, and she screamed.
Pain accompanied her always, but tolerance for physical discomfort proved no match for this. The agony violated her on a level that transcended physical sensation. With each bloody thrust, Elias shredded more of her soul, enslaving and degrading her mind along with her tortured body.
With a final grunt, the giant collapsed atop her, driving the breath from her lungs. After five heartbeats without air, consciousness faltered. Was this how she’d die? Then the mountain that was Elias finally heaved itself off her. Lungs filled with life, and she curled into a ball, gasping, coughing, and vomiting all at once.
But Ishan lived.
When she opened her eyes, Elias stood glaring at his two friends.
Nihala Page 3