Journey to the Lost Tomb (Rowan and Ella Book 2) (23 page)

           
“Well,
I assume he raped you since I heard you screaming bloody murder in there. Is
that not so?”

           
“He…he
took me my surprise.”

           
“Oh.
My. God.”

           
“It
was
nothing
like what Edward tried to
do to me!”

           
“That
doesn’t make it okay! Sex is supposed to be consensual! Do you not understand
that concept? You’re allowed to say
no
!
Did you get the
chance
to say no?”

           
Julia
shook her head.

           
“Right.
He dropped you onto his blanket and just took you, didn’t he? He didn’t say
hello, are you comfortable, would you like a
drink, do you mind if I nail you now
? He just pulled your legs apart and
went to it. Didn’t he?”

           
Julia
looked up at her with bright eyes and nodded. “Pretty much,” she said, a smile
playing on her lips as she remembered.

           
Ella
looked at her in horror. “Julia, sweetie, he’s
not
your boyfriend. He’s
not
in love with you. Are you so screwed up about men you don’t know when you’ve
been raped, for God’s sake?”

           
“Ella,
I don’t know how to say this and I perfectly understand how you might not be
able to understand considering your situation but something happened to me last
night.”

           
“Yeah,
I know. And it’s punishable by death in most civilized countries.”

           
“I
felt
alive
. And I know that what Ammon
did was wrong…”

           
Ammon?

           
“But
after that first time, he was very gentle with me. And after the second time,
I…” she looked down at her hands and Ella saw her blush. “I
wanted
him to do it.”

           
“I
am not believing what I am hearing. You
know
he probably has never had a bath.”

           
“I
think I love him, Ella.”

           
“The
heat has fried your brain, Julia.”

           
“What
do
you
know about love? A stupid
American who threw over her fiancé for his idiot valet who then got her in a
delicate condition? I would say
you
are the last person to be giving advice.”

           
“You
don’t have to be Dear effing Abby to know rape is a poor start to any relationship,”
Ella said hotly. “Besides, I lied about all that valet stuff. The fact is, I’m
married.”

           
Julia
gave her an expression of disbelief. “The valet isn’t the father?”

           
“No,
my husband is.”

           
“Where
is he, this mysterious nonexistent husband?”

           
“A
long way away.”

           
“Why
aren’t you together?”

           
“I
had to do a favor for a friend and I lost my money and my passage home.”

           
“And
your husband is back home in America waiting for you to show up someday?”

           
Ella
looked at her as if a realization had just hit her. “What?”

           
“This
husband I’m supposed to believe you have: he’s just waiting for you to come
home? You don’t have to lie to me, Ella. I am fully a woman, now. I know what
it is like to want a man body and soul regardless of the consequences.” She
gestured knowingly to Ella’s stomach.

           
“He’s
not make-believe,” Ella said slowly. “But you’re right. Knowing him, there’s
every reason to believe he’s not as far away as I thought.”

 
          
“You
are a mystery to me, Ella,” Julia said, stretching luxuriously. “But I must
bathe and rest now. I got very little sleep last night.”

           
“You
know Ammon probably already has a dozen wives, right?”

           
Julia
looked at her in surprise. “I don’t think so. You don’t know him, Ella. He is
an honorable man.”

           
“So,
does this mean we’re not prisoners any more?” Ella asked. “Because I see the
head hag is still watching us pretty closely.”

           
“I
don’t know. I don’t really understand much of what he says.”

           
“Right.”

           
“I
will try to understand him better tonight.”

           
“You’re
going
back
to him?”

           
Julia
leaned over and patted Ella’s hand. “Poor Ella,” she said. “I’m sure your time
will come soon.” She stood and dusted the sand from her petticoat, then washed
her face in the tepid water of the tent basin. Ella watched her and didn’t know
whether to laugh or cry.

           
The
days of living and traveling with the Bedouins fell into a steady monotony for
Ella and Julia. Ella slept alone each night, guarded by a man or the old woman.
When they weren’t traveling to the next temporarily unspoiled spot of desolate
desert, Ella and Julia spent their days helping the old woman with chores. The
children were particularly fascinated with the white women and, since they were
often put in charge of minding them, Ella and Julia taught them snatches of
nursery school songs.

           
Julia
seemed to mind not at all that her hair was a tangled mess and her clothes were
dirty and ripped.
The silly woman was in
love
. Ella decided that Julia’s childhood must have been brutal for her to
cling so intensely to her captor. Sometimes Ella caught Ammon watching her and
she usually used the moment to protectively touch her stomach to remind him of
her condition. The nights that Julia spent in his tent were often noisy ones,
but her screams and moans—audible all over the camp— clearly had nothing
to do with terror. In the morning, Julia ate what she would otherwise have
deemed not fit for the camp dogs in a lusty, hungry manner as if all of life
were to be tasted and enjoyed now that she had discovered sex.

           
It
became quickly clear that Julia was hoping to become pregnant herself. She
pulled the camp babies onto her lap—filthy little dears coated with
flies—to play endless games of peekaboo. She asked Ella what her first
symptoms were and often stood with her hand smoothing her flat belly as if in
anticipation.

           
It’s true
, Ella thought.
Love makes you lose your damn mind.

           
They
had now been with the Bedouins a week. As Ella watched the babies suckling at
their mothers’ breasts, she felt a paralyzing terror at the thought of having
her baby in these appalling conditions. Ella guessed she was right at four and
a half months along. She had started to show but felt fine, no nausea or
tenderness. Just an overwhelming urge to get back to her own time.
To Rowan. As soon as possible.

           
One
morning after Julia returned to their tent from another night with Ammon, Ella approached
her with her plan to escape.

           
“The
men leave every morning right after breakfast,” Ella said. “They leave the
horses they rode the day before and take a fresh string. They’re gone until
dinner. You didn’t find out, by any chance, where it is they go, did you?”

           
Julia
ran her fingers through her hair to try to tame the tangles and snarls that
would likely have to be cut out in order to be removed. She frowned. “Ammon
doesn’t talk about such things with me,” she said. “I wouldn’t understand him
if he did.”

           
“Today
is as good a day as any,” Ella said. “Will I have to talk you into this or are
you coming with me?”

           
Julia’s
mouth fell open. “You can’t be serious,” she said. “Ammon would be furious!”

           
“Okay,
well, pissing off Ammon is not on my list of reasons
not
to do it,” Ella said.

           
“I
can’t go,” Julia said.

           
Ella
stared at her. She had expected this. Although it seemed inconceivable, Julia
was happy here. Ella had already made up her mind not to argue with her. It
would actually be easier and less noticeable for just one to slip away anyway.
If she were successful, she would bring the rescue party back as soon as she
could.

           
Assuming
Julia wanted to be rescued.

           
“I’m
still going,” Ella said. “Can I count on you to cover for me?”

           
“I
don’t want you to go,” Julia said fretfully. “Ammon will be furious. He’ll
think I could have stopped you.”

           
“Are
you afraid he’ll hurt you?”

           
Julia
thought for a moment and then shook her head. “No,” she said. “I just don’t
like to make him unhappy.”

           
“I
know. That’s really the worst part of all this,” Ella said sarcastically, “how
unhappy it’ll make Ammon.” She grabbed Julia by both shoulders and gave her a
quick hug. “I’ll bring help,” she said.

           
“You’ll
die,” Julia said.

           
It
was so much easier than she had imagined. Ella spent a few minutes playing with
the children as she normally did, then scooped up one of the goatskin bags of
water that hung where the camels and horses were tethered to a line. The women
relaxed when their men were gone and settled into what looked like a good
old-fashioned gossip session around the fire, which was always going.
 

Ella crept over
to the largest horse. While she hated the bigger target he made, she thought he
would be able to survive longer and go further than the others. She spent ten
precious minutes watering him before untying his reins and leading him silently
into the bushes. While her heart pounded and her ears seemed to pick up every
sound on the wind, no one came after her.

When she thought
she was far enough away, she climbed up on a large rock and onto the giant gelding’s
back. There was no saddle. She saw the sun struggling ever skyward and paused
to wrap a filthy
hijab
around her
head. She still wore the blouse of her khaki riding outfit. The buttons were
gone from the day Gita had examined her but she tied the tail of it at her
midriff. Unfortunately, she was barefoot, as she had lost her shoes the day the
Bedouin gang found her and Julia in the desert.

           
Seeing
that the sun was rising in front of her, Ella turned the horse toward the east
where she knew the river must lie.
 

           
She
put the horse into a trot over the irregular, rocky ground. As she rode, she
envisioned the river just over the next rise—although she knew it would
be hours before she could possibly hope to see it. She tried to picture the
look on Rowan’s face when she told him they were expecting a baby. She imagined
the conversation between them. Surely, a baby would eradicate whatever hold
Carol had on him. Surely, a baby would erase the doubts and second-guessing
that had crept into their relationship.
 

           
And
surely a baby would force him to forgive her for disappearing for three weeks
without a word. Had it only been three weeks?
It seemed like a
lifetime.
She was astonished at how quickly she had adapted to this time.

Ella came to a
flat rocky terrain lined by scrub brushes. The sun was directly overhead now
and the heat beat down on her like a mallet. She slowed her horse. As anxious
as she was to get to the river, it wouldn’t do to kill the beast in the
process. He was already drenched with sweat.

           
That’s not good
, she thought.
We’re both of us losing so much fluid and it
can’t be fully noon yet.
She wiped her face with her sleeve and was
appalled to see that her sleeve was damp with perspiration. A line of sweat
dribbled down from her brow from under her scarf. She halted the animal so that
she could retch but she was too afraid to climb down for fear she would never
get back on him.

           
So much for no morning sickness
, she
thought. Drops of vomit clung to her blouse and the sight of it only served to
spur her anxiety.
I need to get back. I
need to get back NOW.

           
It
occurred to her that she was no longer riding in a straight line and with the
sun now directly overhead, her solar compass was gone. She prayed that she was
going in the right direction.