The Healer's Warrior (25 page)

“I thought you would rather relax and watch. Isn’t fishing a man’s sport?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Everything that is fun and freeing is man’s sport in your society, and anything that is of any consequence is seen as men’s work. I catch more fish than half the men in my tribe. You know, if men opened their minds a little, sense might fall into it.” She folded her arms across her chest, annoyed.

Tareq laughed. He went to her and put his arm about her shoulders. He hugged her to him and kissed her on the cheek. “We’ll take turns, okay?”

Jem’ya relaxed. She nodded. Her cheek grew hot with a fiery blush where he’d kissed her. They shared the fishing line and within an hour they each caught two medium-sized fish.

“Let’s bring these back to the palace for our lunch.”

“Why not cook them now while they’re fresh?”

“You’ll have to teach me. I can
gut
them, but I’m not to be trusted around a cook’s fire.”

“I don’t mind preparing them. I’d like some herbs to flavor them with. I think I saw wild thyme on our way here.” They got back on their horses and doubled back to find the patch. Jem’ya picked a dozen sprigs of thyme while Tareq cleaned the fish in the stream’s running water. Jem’ya filled the fish with the earthy herbs and roasted them on the wood coals of a fire. Jem’ya and Tareq sat together and ate the flaky, smoky meat of the fish while they observed the water and the sky and watched their horses graze and drink. Jem’ya appreciated the peaceful, natural day. Tareq washed his hands and returned to sit with Jem’ya.

“How long have we known each other?”

Jem’ya looked at him curiously.
“Over a year.
Why?”

“We’ve known each other more than a year and we’ve been through so much together, and still I am not satisfied knowing you.”

She felt immediately offended. “Not satisfied?”

“I already know that you are bold, you love nature, and you touch your brow when you’re nervous. I know the softness of your hair and the taste of your lips, and that your smile always starts on the left side of your mouth. I know that you are perfectly feminine and sweet, but strong as well. I know all these things, but I am always wishing to know more of you, like I can never be close enough to you.”

Jem’ya’s heart was pounding. “I didn’t realize you were so observant,” she murmured. Tense silence settled between them. Her mind whirled with panicked thoughts and her stomach was quivering with longing.
The only place you and I can be together is at the Coast, secluded in our own fantasy.
It won’t survive anywhere else, and I can’t allow myself to settle for a love that won’t last.
Finally she spoke. “I don’t know what to say, Tareq.”

His golden eyes dimmed with sadness. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to share how I felt.” He smiled at her and stood up from the ground. He stretched his back and his arms. “Lunch was great. Thank you. Are you ready to head back now?”

Jem’ya nodded. They returned to their horses and rode them west.

“I really enjoyed this day,” Tareq said as he maneuvered Sultan left around a large rock. “I admit that I would rather be the farmer I pretended to be, so I could live off of the land in peace, but I was destined to have great responsibilities. It’s been difficult, but it is a grand opportunity.”

“I enjoyed this day as well. That is the way most black Africans live. We’re not perfect, but we live simple and natural lives. It hurts me when I think of the tribes whose sacred way of life was shattered when your kingdom exerted power over them.”

Tareq looked at her. “That was my father’s kingdom, Jem’ya.” His gaze returned to the terrain ahead. “Under my rule, we are not seeking out new territories. Some of the newer territories are still rebelling, but I am genuinely doing what I can to appease them and bring harmony.”

Jem’ya pursed her lips. She gripped Empress’s reins a little tighter. “We do not have the greed or the hunger for power in our tribes that you have in your kingdom. There is no king in our village. We do not battle to conquer other tribes. When what we
love
is threatened, then we fight. In
Tikso
, we fight only from our hearts.”

Tareq remembered the last words Jem’ya’s brother uttered: 
You fight my heart.

“Our tribes aren’t just shapes on a map. They are ancient nations. Maybe you are holding on to something that you can never truly have.”

His heart fell.
I’ve been holding on to Jem’ya, but I can never truly have her. Not as my wife.
Right then, he decided he would send her to
Eulid
tomorrow to be with her parents and return to
Tikso
, even if Jem’ya said she wanted to stay in the palace. “I understand how you feel, but what I have in store for the tribal territories will benefit them. It is my intention that they will be happier, healthier, and more modernized. I can offer them a better life.”

Jem’ya paced the marble bedroom floor.
“That pompous
ass!
How
dare
he say that?!”
She had prayed the whole ride back to the palace in order to keep those words in. “A better life? What’s better about life in Samhia?  
The poverty, the slavery, the corruption and the murders?
There is absolutely
nothing
you could teach my people, you arrogant, self-righteous…
Grrrr
!” Jem’ya spun around and eyed the mirror on her vanity. It looked too heavy for her to pick up and throw to the floor. “He doesn’t respect me. He doesn’t respect my people.” Her mouth trembled. “I’ve done nothing but love you, and you’ve done nothing but hurt me.
I hate you
,” she whispered.  Jem’ya burst into tears and crumpled slowly to the cold floor. She hugged her knees to her chest, and rocked, and cried, remembering all the wrongs Tareq had done, and feeling so foolish for continuing to be his friend. After a few minutes, Jem’ya took a deep breath and wiped away her tears. Crying would get her nowhere.
Men don’t understand a woman’s pain. They only understand their own.

There was a knock at Jem’ya’s door. Jem’ya stood up from the floor and smoothed the wrinkles out of her orange dress. Her heart was hardened. Her voice came out stony and reserved. “Come in.”

Bahja entered the room, smiling. “Good afternoon, Lady Jem’ya. Um, Tareq would like to know what your favorite color is.”

“Why?”

“It’s pertaining to a gift he would like to give you. Something you might wear to dinner tonight, perhaps,” she hinted.

“Hmm.”
Jem’ya hid a smirk. “Tell him that my favorite color is black.”

Bahja came knocking at Jem’ya’s door again an hour before dinner. “Here it is, Lady Jem’ya” the maidservant beamed. She had the black dress thrown across her arms and was holding a flat square box in her hand. She laid the dress out on the bed and set the box on the bed beside it. Bahja stepped back and watched Jem’ya touch the fabric of the dress. Glittering translucent beads were sewn into the black fabric in a pattern that reminded her of rain falling from a night sky and into the wild waves of the sea. It irked Jem’ya how much she really liked the dress. Her hand went to the square box. She lifted the lid. Inside was a chain headdress, silver with beads of black onyx and deep red rubies, with a glossy onyx stone as the forehead jewel. “They’re beautiful, Bahja.”

“I can’t wait for you to put them on,” Bahja smiled sadly. “I used to help Tareq and Qadir’s
mother get
dressed for the king. You will be just as stunning as she was.”

“Thank you, Bahja.”

“I’ll be outside.”

Jem’ya nodded. Bahja left the room and Jem’ya slipped the gown on. Its straps crossed like an X on her back, and the dress flowed down to her feet and spilled into a short train at her heels. The dress fit her well, revealing the curves of her hips more than any dress she owned. Jem’ya was certain that tonight was the night Tareq hoped to lay with her. The end of the week was in two days, so his true intentions were becoming exposed. He wanted her as a lover before she left for good. She was nervous about her first time being with a man, and sick to her stomach that she would lose her virginity to a man that wasn’t her husband, but it was worth it to save her people.

Seated at her vanity, she began to style her hair. She created rows of thick twists all around her head, then gathered the ends together and made smaller twists that she pinned into a bun. She added the onyx and ruby headdress. She shook her head and the hanging beads shimmied. Jem’ya felt like a tribal warrior as she painted her face. She lined her eyes with kohl, perfected her brows, and stained her lips red. Someone else looked back at her in the mirror; a woman that was brave and worldly. The makeup was a mask that helped her disassociate from her body. Lastly, she decided to go barefoot. Jem’ya was more comfortable without shoes and the palace floors were kept pristine. 

Jem’ya opened her door and stepped into the hall where Bahja was waiting. Emotional, Bahja could only nod and smile at first. The lump in her throat subsided. “You look like a princess, Lady Jem’ya. Um, I’m afraid Tareq was struck by pain again. He’s in his bedroom. Might you help him?”

Slightly worried, Jem’ya rushed through the hall with Bahja to his bedroom. The room was dark and the bed was empty.
“Tareq?”
Jem’ya called.

“
Here.
On the balcony,” he answered.

Bahja stood at the doorway and watched Jem’ya walk to the cream drapes and pulled them aside. Bahja smiled and closed the bedroom door at the sound of Jem’ya’s gasp. There was a candlelit dinner for Jem’ya out on his balcony and the table was laden with plates of spicy goat meat stew, rice and peas, curried corn fritters and sweet yam dumplings in cinnamon honey sauce, her favorite dishes. Her eyes watered from homesickness. Smiling and well, Tareq stood beside the table in black pants and boots. His broad shoulders filled out a white shirt. When he saw her in the sensuous gown, every cell in his body became more alive. He couldn’t imagine any other woman as his wife.

“How did you know my favorite meal?”

Tareq went to her and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “I did some research.” With his hand at the small of her back, he guided her to her chair. “Please, sit. I hope everything is to your liking.”

Jem’ya picked up a fritter and bit into it. She closed her eyes as the familiar texture and flavor triggered nostalgia. Tareq observed Jem’ya as she tried each dish. He smiled when she smiled and his heart hurt during her melancholy moments of reminiscence. He didn’t touch his plate. He was too anxious to eat.

Jem’ya finally spoke. “What is all of this for?”

Tareq ran a hand through his dark curls. His fair skin was golden under the glow of the candlelight. “This is my farewell to you. Tonight has to be your last night here. You need to be with your family. I can’t take the guilt anymore of keeping you away from them.”

Jem’ya was not moved by his confession. He had another, more carnal motive for purchasing lavish gifts for her and softening her up with good food. She ate another honeyed dumpling.

“Losing Qadir put so many things into perspective.” He clenched his jaw and cleared his throat, pushing some of the emotional ache away. “You…You have been a blessing in my life, but unfortunately in your life I’ve been a curse. Jem’ya, I have been so
foolish
,” he said, his eyes glistening.

Jem’ya nodded in a sympathetic way.

“I can never say sorry enough to you. I care for you.
Deeply.”
Filled with longing, his hazel eyes scanned her face. “I always will.”

Jem’ya stared at him. She dismissed the small pang of affection that prodded at her heart. “I care for you as well, Tareq.” Jem’ya stood up from the table. He was determined to send her home in the morning. This was her last chance. Jem’ya seemed to glide toward Tareq, like a dream. The midnight dress glittered as she moved and outlined her elegant, feminine shape. Her eyes stayed lowered, coy, until she sat in his lap. Then she stunned him with her seductive gaze and her soft voice flowing from her full lips. “I can stay here with you,” she whispered. She smoothed a hand down his hard chest. A hot tremble caused a gentle quake in her body. “I can be with you, but you must promise me one thing.”