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Authors: Connie Mason

BOOK: Sheik
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“They were here,” Haroun said, stooping to examine the hard, rocky ground.

“How long ago?” Jamal asked.

“It’s hard to tell. Two days, two weeks, who knows?”

Jamal was secretly pleased that Youssef and his bandits had managed to stay one step ahead of the sultan’s men. Jamal had no idea what he would do if they actually found the Berbers. His greatest fear was that Zara would be killed in battle or become the sultan’s captive. It was up to him to see that Zara was kept safe. Traipsing through mountains and desert gave him plenty of time to think … and plan.

“They’re headed for the High Atlas,” Hasdai said when the trail led them out of the Rif mountains. “Youssef is clever. He might even attempt to lose us amid the dunes and buttes of the Sahara.”

“Perhaps we should turn back and report to the sultan,” Jamal suggested. Anything to lead them away from Zara.

Hasdai looked at Jamal as if he had lost his mind. “The sultan’s orders were to search until Youssef is found. I value my life, even if you do not. Ishmail warned me to be watchful, that you couldn’t be trusted where the Berber princess is concerned. The sultan said you had captured Youssef once and allowed him to escape.”

“I did not
allow
Youssef to escape. ’Tis a long story, Captain, one I won’t bore you with. Shall we continue?”

That conversation was the first inkling Jamal had that he was being closely monitored by Ishmail’s men. Obviously he would have to be very careful in the future. If Jamal was confident of only one thing in this life, it was the certainty that he would never knowingly endanger Zara’s life.

The chase continued.

One week, two weeks, three weeks passed with no sign of the Blue Men. Jamal and the sultan’s army skirted the edge of the desert now, descending the slopes of the High Atlas to the lowlands that extended into the Sahara. They traveled over forested slopes, through steppe grasslands and drought-resistant scrub vegetation. They crossed streams that drained from the Atlas into the Sahara and they rested at date-palm oases where they replenished their supply of precious water.

They camped one night on a thickly forested plain on the edge of the desert. While camp was being set up, Hasdai sent out a night patrol to scout the area. Jamal was with Hasdai when the patrol returned. Their excitement sent Jamal’s heart plummeting to his toes. They had found Youssef’s camp just beyond the crest of the next mountain. The Blue Men had pitched their tents beside a narrow stream in a stand of tall evergreen trees.

Hasdai smiled grimly. “We will attack at dawn, when they least expect it.” He called his second in command, issuing orders to be relayed to the troops. “Are you in agreement, my lord?” he
asked Jamal as his lieutenant hurried away.

Jamal’s heart was lodged in his throat but he managed to say, “In perfect agreement, Captain. If you will excuse me, I should see to my own weapons and men.”

Haroun stood nearby. When Jamal entered his tent, Haroun followed. “What are your orders, my lord?”

“I must warn Zara.”

“That’s treason.”

Jamal’s eyes were the windows into his soul, revealing a man tormented by conflicting emotions. He could follow Ishmail’s orders and watch Zara be destroyed, or he could warn her and commit treason. Either choice was painful, but Jamal let his heart make the decision for him.

“I know Moulay Ishmail well, my friend. He is a master of cruelty. Watching the brutal torture of Youssef and Zara will give him great pleasure. I cannot allow that to happen. I do not expect you to compromise your honor, Haroun, so I release you from your service to me.”

Haroun looked aggrieved. “I am your man, Jamal. I have no great love for our sultan. Tell me what to do.”

“Nothing at the moment. As soon as the men have settled down for the night, I’m going to sneak into Youssef’s camp. I will decide what to do once I get there.”

“I will go with you. You’ll need a man to keep watch.”

“There is no need—”

“It is settled,” Haroun said. “I will return to
your tent after the camp has settled down. Pray Allah for a dark night.”

Jamal paced restlessly as he waited for Haroun to return. Perhaps his nightmares would stop now, he reflected. Since he’d become an unwilling participant in this venture, his sleep had been plagued by terrifying nightmares involving Zara. In his dreams she was the sultan’s prisoner, a victim of his depraved nature. Her screams of pain were so real they ripped him apart.

Jamal stopped pacing when Haroun slipped inside the tent. “It is time, Jamal. Hasdai has retired to his tent and the men have all made their beds on the ground. I passed the word around to our men to remain vigilant.”

Jamal nodded, grateful to have a man like Haroun at his side. Together they stepped out into the darkness. The night was cold but Jamal’s black woolen
djellaba
protected him from the bitter wind blowing from the desert. Allah must have answered his prayers, for there was no moon visible in the cloudy skies.

“We will separate and make our way to the horses,” Jamal whispered. “Try to avoid the sentries.”

Jamal slipped past the sentry without being seen, and when no cry of alarm was given, he assumed Haroun was as successful as he in avoiding detection.

Haroun had reached the horses first. Without a word they saddled their mounts and led them through a tangle of underbrush, around cedar, evergreen and oak trees. A safe distance from camp they mounted and went in search of Youssef’s
hideout. Some time later they halted on a ledge overlooking a grassy slope.

Jamal’s sharp gaze scanned the valley below, noting a break in the trees where a narrow river gouged a course out of the rock.

“There they are, Haroun, below us,” Jamal pointed out. “Do you see the tents amid the trees?”

Haroun studied the slope below and finally saw the outline of several tents.

“I see them.”

“I’m going down.”

Jamal started down the slope. Haroun followed close behind. Youssef’s camp was so well hidden, Jamal was surprised the patrol had found it. But Ishmail’s highly trained Negro soldiers were famous for their tenacity and cunning. Jamal reined in at the edge of the campsite, in a thick grove of fir trees. He dismounted and handed his reins to Haroun.

“I’m going the rest of the way on foot. Keep the horses quiet.”

Jamal crept through the trees until he could see the entire camp spread out along the bank of the river. The campsite was so well concealed that only one sentry had been posted, and he was dozing against a tree.

Jamal studied the alignment of tents, trying to figure out which one belonged to Zara. He noted one tent set apart from the others, and it was that dwelling on which Jamal concentrated. The night was still ink black, and it would be easy to slip into the tent without being seen.

Then Allah rewarded him.

The tent flap opened and Zara stepped outside. She had removed her turban, and her golden hair spilled down her back in glorious disarray. Jamal saw her walk the short distance to the narrow river and kneel down to wash her hands, face and neck. He smiled grimly and crept forward toward her tent. He glanced at the sentry, saw he was still dozing and slipped through the open flap.

Zara finished her ablutions and retraced her steps to her tent. The night was peaceful. Too peaceful, she thought, but could find no reason for her disquiet. Families were sleeping together in their black tents and the single men were sprawled on the ground, wrapped in their blankets, their heads resting on their saddles. Her tent had been pitched a short distance away from the others, to afford her a modicum of privacy, and she approached it now with a strange foreboding. Since she saw nothing to cause her edginess, Zara ducked into her tent, secured the flap … and froze.

She wasn’t alone.

She sensed his presence moments before his hand covered her mouth and he hissed into her ear, “Do not struggle, sweet vixen. I mean you no harm.”

Jamal! Despite his reassurance, she grappled with him, but was soon subdued by his superior strength. Fear raced through her. They had been found! Jamal would take her to Meknes, where she and Youssef would be punished in the most horrible way imaginable.

“I’ll remove my hand if you promise not to
scream. Heed me, Zara, I mean you no harm. I’ve come to help. Shall I remove my hand?”

Zara nodded vigorously, though she didn’t believe his promise not to hurt her. But she would listen to him before calling for help. She wouldn’t accept death easily. She had more to protect now than her own life.

Jamal removed his hand from her mouth. Then he turned her into his arms and brought her against him, resting his forehead against hers. “Praise Allah I found you before Captain Hasdai launches his attack. You have scant time to spare; they’ll be here at dawn. Gather your belongings. I’m taking you away from here now.”

It was too dark in the tent for Jamal to see the obstinate expression on Zara’s face, but he could tell by her tone of voice that she wasn’t going to be convinced easily.

“I’m not leaving.” She tried to pull away from him. “I have to warn Father.”

“I’ll take you by force if I must,” Jamal warned, tightening his grip.

“Call off the attack,” Zara pleaded. “If you can’t do that, then at least let me warn Father and our people. There are women and children in the camp. Have you no heart?”

When her words seemed to make no impression on Jamal, she began to pound on his chest with her fists. In desperation she opened her mouth to scream. Jamal must have sensed her intention, for his mouth slammed down on hers, sucking the breath from her in a deep, drugging kiss that boldly proclaimed his need for her.

A strangled sound escaped her throat as her
pounding fists opened and slid around his neck, pressing closer to the heat of his mouth, losing herself in his kiss. These long, empty weeks without Jamal’s touch had been pure torture. She’d told herself time and again that she hated him, but her heart wouldn’t be convinced. When his tongue nudged her lips apart and plunged inside, she caught fire. Suddenly there was no tomorrow or yesterday. There was only today, this man, this hour, this minute.

There was only desperate need.

Chapter Fifteen

 

Zara felt a wild, uncontrollable longing to be with Jamal again, to have him inside her. She kissed him back, clinging to him, branding him with the hot pressure of her body.

Jamal’s physical reaction was immediate and overwhelming. He wanted to press her down upon her pallet and thrust his rock-hard erection inside her. He wanted to devour her with his kisses; the glorious scent of her intoxicated him. Everything about her was purely female and wholly captivating.

Nothing had changed, Zara thought in a brief lucid moment. Jamal had only to touch her and she came violently alive. The ache between her legs deepened and intensified, her nipples hardened, her breasts became heavy and sensitive to the slightest caress. She moaned and opened her
mouth to the sweet entrance of his tongue.

“Zara, sweet vixen,” Jamal groaned against her mouth as he pulled her down with him to her pallet.

His mouth was fused to hers as he released the sash holding up her baggy trousers and pulled them down around her ankles. With a sweeping motion he hiked her shirt up to her neck. His mouth moved down to lick her nipples as he raised himself slightly and shed his own trousers, too impatient to remove his boots and pull them all the way off.

“I can’t wait,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Nor I. Hurry!” She arched upward, crying out as Jamal flexed his hips and thrust into her soft, wet center. She was hot, so very hot.

He took her quickly, roughly, right there on the pallet, his passion white-hot and explosive. Zara writhed beneath him, rising up to meet his thrusts with blinding ardor, her hands roaming his flesh and her mouth returning his kisses. She met every swift, hard plunge of his hips and thrust of his tongue. She heard her own keening, moaning sounds as her body whirled out of control. He kissed her wildly, violently, as if he couldn’t get enough of her and wanted to absorb every sound of her pleasure into his body.

He plunged and retreated, then plunged again … and again … and again. “Come, sweet vixen! Now! I can wait no longer.”

Zara came in a mindless rush of molten heat, consumed by fierce, aching ripples of pleasure that crested and grew and swept her into a place
of blinding ecstasy. Her scream was muffled by Jamal’s mouth, just as Jamal’s hoarse shout was muffled by hers. His body stiffened as he pumped his wet seed into her.

Long minutes passed before Jamal eased away and struggled to his feet. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. Allah help me, for I have no control where you’re concerned.” With an efficiency of motion he pulled up his trousers and fastened the sash. Then he reached down to help Zara. “Time is running out.”

Still dazed from the violence of their loving, Zara allowed Jamal to help her to her feet and fasten the sash at her waist.

“Come, we must leave quickly.”

Zara finally found her voice. “I meant it when I said I’m not going anywhere with you. I can’t leave my father. He needs me.”

“You won’t do him any good if you’re dead,” Jamal said harshly. He wanted to shock her into compliance. “The sultan has nefarious plans for you and Youssef that will make you wish you were dead.”

“My father—”

“Even if he escapes now, Youssef won’t be able to help you. ’Tis only a matter of time before he’s caught. The sultan would like nothing better than to decorate his wall with Youssef’s head.”

“Are you trying to frighten me?”

“I’m being brutally honest. Put on your
djellaba
; we must leave immediately.” When she made no move to obey, he felt around in the darkness until he found her robe folded at the foot of the pallet and pulled it over her. Then he grasped her hand
and dragged her toward the tent opening.

Zara dug in her heels. “Father must be warned. There’s still time to get our people to safety.”

Jamal deplored the use of violence and had no stomach for it, but Zara gave him no choice. Since she steadfastly refused to leave of her own free will, he was forced to take matters into his own hands. He hoped she would forgive him.

“Zara,” he said, turning her to face him. “This isn’t the way I wanted it, but I will do anything to protect you. I cannot leave you here. The danger is too great.”

“You can’t—”

She never completed her sentence. With a cry of remorse, Jamal brought his fist forward and delivered a fast, solid clip to her jaw. The blow wasn’t hard enough to cause permanent damage; just a sharp tap that would keep her quiet for an hour or two. He caught her in his arms before she hit the ground.

“Forgive me, sweet vixen,” he whispered as he released the flap and peered into the darkness.

Nothing had changed. Less than an hour had passed since he’d entered Zara’s tent, though it seemed an eternity. The black, moonless night was his ally now. The sentry was still dozing against a tree. There were no campfires to give him away as he crept from the tent with Zara in his arms. He returned the way he had come, slipping into the thick cover of trees where Haroun waited.

“Praise Allah, you’re back,” Haroun said with a sigh of relief. “Another minute and I would have come charging in after you.”

“Praise Allah that you didn’t.”

“I assume that’s Lady Zara in your arms. What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s unconscious. I had to use force.”

Haroun frowned. It was unlike Jamal to hurt a woman. “If you have a plan, perhaps it’s time you shared it with me.”

“That’s precisely what I intend, my friend.” He shifted Zara in his arms. “I’m placing Zara in your care. You’re to take her to Paradise and await me there. Mount up and I’ll hand her up to you. You can ride double to the nearest village. I have coin on me, enough to purchase a mount for Zara and see you safely to Paradise.”

The widening of Haroun’s eyes betrayed his shock. “What are you going to do?”

“You don’t want to know.” He placed a kiss on Zara’s lips and handed her up to his trusted lieutenant. “Take care, my friend. You hold my life in your arms.” Then he reached beneath his robes for the sack of gold coins he’d stuck in his pocket and handed it to Haroun.

“You ask a great deal of me, Jamal. Lady Zara isn’t going to be happy about this when she awakens. She’s a warrior woman, as fierce as any man I’ve ever faced.”

“Do what you must to keep her from returning to her father.”

“How will you explain my absence to Captain Hasdai?”

“I’ll think of something. You must be ever vigilant, my friend. Zara is crafty. Guard her with your life. Tell Nafisa and Hammet to keep her
confined to the harem. I’ll make things right with Zara when I return.”

“Good luck,” Haroun said with amusement. “I won’t question your sanity, Jamal, though I know you must be mad to betray the sultan. Ishmail isn’t a man to accept failure. He wants Youssef and Zara.”

“I can handle Ishmail, Haroun. Go now. Go quickly. Allah be with you.”

“Allah be with you, my friend,” Haroun returned as he kneed his horse forward.

Jamal watched him ride into the dark night, and then he turned back toward Youssef’s camp. He knew things would never be right between him and Zara if he allowed her father and the Blue Men to be slaughtered by the sultan’s army. He was trying to decide how best to approach Youssef when the sentry suddenly awakened, saw him, and cried out a warning. Jamal made no effort to escape as men poured out of the tents and surrounded him. A few minutes later Youssef pushed his way through to Jamal.

“By Allah’s beard, how did you get here? Are you alone?”

“I must speak with you privately, Youssef,” Jamal said earnestly.

Youssef felt a frisson of fear and glanced at Zara’s tent. Was she still sleeping? “Very well, follow me. It must be urgent for you to walk into my camp without an army at your back. You were an instant away from having your head separated from your body.”

Jamal said nothing as he followed Youssef into his tent. The
cadi
struck a light to an oil lamp and
turned to face Jamal. “Explain yourself.”

“I came to warn you. The sultan’s army is camped nearby. They know you’re here and plan to attack at dawn. Without my warning you’d all be slaughtered in your beds.”

Youssef’s eyes narrowed. “Why should I believe you? You are Ishmail’s man.”

“I am my own man. I do this for Zara’s sake. I plan to make Zara my wife, and I do not want your death to mar our future happiness.”

“Your wife!” Youssef sputtered. “You seem sure of yourself, Sheik. Perhaps we should get Zara in here and ask her how she feels about becoming your wife. My daughter has a mind of her own and cannot be coerced into marriage.”

“Heed me well, Youssef, you have little time left in which to flee the sultan’s soldiers. I urge you to break camp now. You have women and children to protect. Ishmail wants your head. You will be pursued relentlessly, until you are caught. You may be resigned to your fate, but I won’t let that happen to Zara. I’m taking her with me.”

“Zara will never leave of her own free will,” Youssef declared. He recognized the wisdom of Jamal’s words, but knew it would take more than words to convince Zara.

Jamal took a deep breath and said, “Zara is no longer here. She departed with my lieutenant over an hour ago. I will join her at Paradise as soon as I am able.”

Enraged, Youssef reached for his scimitar, but then let his hand fall to his side. “Did Zara leave of her own accord?”

Jamal shook his head. “I wish it were so but it
is not. Zara refused to leave so I took matters into my own hands. Zara means everything to me, though she believes otherwise. Until I can convince her of my love, she is in a safe place.”

Youssef’s expression softened. “I could kill you, Jamal, but it wouldn’t bring my daughter back. Regrettably, you speak the truth. I am a hunted man. One day I’ll be caught, and I do not wish for Zara to share my fate. Do you truly love her?”

Jamal smiled. “The woman vexes me to distraction. She adds zest to my life yet drives me crazy with her fierce pride. She is contrary, disobedient, fierce and obstinate. I have never in my life loved a woman until Zara. I will protect her with my life.”

Youssef’s lips twitched. That was quite a speech for a man who could have any woman in the kingdom and beyond. “You appear to know my daughter well. If you recall, I once pleaded with you to marry Zara instead of making her your concubine.”

“At the time I could not see past my lust. But we waste time talking. I must return before I am missed. The penalty for treason is death. Where will you go?”

Youssef rubbed his bearded chin as he considered the possibilities.

“I have a suggestion,” Jamal said. “How well do you know the Western Sahara?”

Youssef smiled. “Well enough not to die of thirst or hunger. We are nomads, Sheik. We go where the winds take us.”

“My advice is to flee into the Sahara. When Captain Hasdai comes with his men, he’ll find
tracks leading into the desert. I doubt they’ll follow where death awaits them. Only one familiar with the Sahara would venture into it. After a time you can return to your walled village in the Rif mountains and tend your sheep. If you wish to live in peace, I’d advise you to stop your raids upon the sultan’s caravans.”

“I know your advice is well meant, Sheik, but I am a patriot and must do as my heart directs. The only promise I can make is that we will remain in our walled city for the duration of the winter. Farewell, Jamal, take good care of my daughter. She is well loved by me.”

They clasped arms and Jamal left quickly. He had accomplished what he’d set out to do but he was filled with a bone-deep foreboding. He reached Hasdai’s camp just as the soldiers sleeping upon the ground began stirring. When he tried to slip inside his tent, however, two soldiers emerged from the waning darkness and challenged him with drawn scimitars.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Jamal blustered. “Where is Captain Hasdai?”

“I am here,” Hasdai said, stepping from behind the men. “Where have you been?”

“To relieve myself,” Jamal said, thinking fast.

“You have been gone all night, my lord.”

“Are you questioning my loyalty, Hasdai?”

“The sentry saw you and your lieutenant leave, but thought nothing of it until you failed to return in a reasonable time. I was about to order a patrol out to find you when you returned. Where have you been, and where is Haroun?”

“I was restless. I decided to ride out and look
over the enemy camp. Haroun insisted upon accompanying me.”

“Where is Haroun now?”

“I sent him on an important errand. My ship’s captain is expecting me in Tangier to take the
Plunderer
out on another voyage. I didn’t have time to send word to him when I was so hastily summoned to Meknes. Haroun is to inform Captain Brahim of my delay.” It was a lame excuse but Jamal could think of no other.

“I will give you the benefit of the doubt, my lord, but you will be under close surveillance during the attack. Ready your men. We ride out immediately. If Allah is with us, we will find the Berber rebels still abed.”

Jamal’s men-at-arms rallied around his tent awaiting orders. When Hasdai was out of earshot, Jamal told them that he had sent Haroun to Paradise on an important mission and that they were to slip away and follow without informing Captain Hasdai of their departure. He also told them to inform Haroun that he was to take the Princess Zara to his ship in Tangier and send her without delay to his mother in England. If the men were curious, they made no mention of it, for they were unquestioningly faithful to Jamal. As Jamal and the soldiers rode out to subdue the enemy, Jamal looked back and saw his men-at-arms drifting away from the main group and riding in the opposite direction.

The enemy was gone. The hasty departure of the Blue Men was evidenced by the numerous personal effects left behind. They were traveling
light, and their tracks led directly into the desert beyond the forested slopes and grassy plains.

Captain Hasdai spit out an oath and sent a blistering look at Jamal. “The enemy was warned in advance of our attack. Youssef knows we dare not follow him too deeply into the desert, for we are not desert fighters. The Blue Men are familiar with all the water holes and oases, but we know them not.”

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