Chapter 9 The Young Maiden #2
Zahra cringed. She had to do something. She coughed, bringing everyone’s attention to her. She smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. I had something caught in my throat.”
Namir was smiling by the time Eshe returned her gaze to him. He inclined his head toward her. “Yes, the King does. He recalled seeing a beautiful maiden the other day and swears it was you. He wishes to invite you to the pr-aa.”
Fukayna gasped. Eshe shook her head. “I have never seen the King in person, nor have I gone to the capital in many years. I believe this is a mistake.”
“It is not.” Namir extended his hand. “He wishes to see you in person. If it is a mistake, as you say, you will be sent home.”
“And if it is not?” Fukayna asked, her eyes hopeful.
Namir glanced at Zahra before he responded. “Then, there will be no need for a Feast.”
Eshe’s face lost its color
Fukayna put her hands on Eshe’s shoulders. “This is most unexpected. When will the King send for her?”
“I can take her whenever she is ready,” Namir said. “We can leave right away if that is your wish.”
“No.” Eshe tore away from her mother’s hands. “I do not wish to marry the King!”
Namir’s smile faltered, and panic filled his eyes. “But—”
“Eshe,” Fukayna scolded. “How dare you speak to the Commander that way!”
“I cannot marry the King.” Eshe sobbed. “I love another, Mwt.”
Faisal appeared at Zahra’s side as Fukayna and Eshe began yelling at each other. “I can take the dress. I will call upon you tomorrow so that you can receive your payment.”
Zahra glanced at Namir, who was regarding the pair with apprehension. An odd look of relief sat in his eyes. She nodded to Faisal. “Thank you, Faisal.”
Zahra waited outside by a grove of palm trees, her hand gripping her necklace, which had mended itself with the new day. After some time, Namir left the house and joined her in the shadows of the grove with sagging shoulders.
Zahra straightened. “Is she your bride?”
“I could not check.” Namir fell upon a rock, burying his face in his hands. “I did not think anyone could oppose me so.”
Zahra rolled her eyes, glad Namir was not looking. “She is young and in love, my King. What did you expect?”
“Certainly not that.” He let out a long breath, then lifted his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I will take her to the pr-aa in a couple of hours. I can check then.”
Zahra studied him. “What will you do if she has the mark?”
“I will find a different bride.” He shook his head. “At the very least, she will be free to marry whom she wishes, and I can end the spell.”
Zahra was quiet with her thoughts as she stood beside the rock he sat on. If he was going to choose another bride, she had more time than she thought to save her father. Perhaps there was hope after all.
Namir sighed. “It seems this is the day when everything goes wrong. First it was the lunar eclipse, then my missing bride, and then the Thoth went missing. Now, this girl—”
“Wait.” Zahra stepped away from him. “I thought you knew where it was?”
“I do in the morning,” Namir said, “but last night, I discovered that my medjay were pursuing a thief who had taken it.”
Namir’s voice faded as Zahra sank deep into her thoughts. “Who… Who took it?”
Namir paused. She had not realized he was still talking. He looked at her incredulously. “As I said, I do not know. I received word of his capture before the day ended, but he did not have the Thoth with him.”
What? He had it with him when they parted last night. Where did he go? Where did he take it?
“I will investigate more once I return to Inebu-hedj, but I do not think I will be able to learn much until nightfall.”
Zahra swallowed hard. “You should move it. If the thief can’t find it…”
She and her father would be safe. Namir would never know.
“I already have.” Namir stood. “I hope that will be enough to deter the thief.” He sighed, looking at Fukayna’s house.
He turned to Zahra and placed his hand on her shoulder.
She flinched, surprised by his touch. An apologetic look crossed his face as his arm fell by his side. “Thank you for your help.”
Zahra nodded numbly. “Of course, my King.”
“You may return to your master’s residence.” He stepped back. “I will have no need for you for the remainder of the day. I shall see you tomorrow.”
Zahra swallowed. “What if you have need of me? What if… Are you ending it tonight?”
“With the Thoth potentially missing? Of course not.” He looked down. “And, I promised I would ensure your survival tonight.”
Zahra’s face warmed. “Thank you.”
Namir nodded and turned from her. “Stay out of trouble tonight.”
Zahra watched as Namir walked away. His words from before struck her chest, swirling in her head and consuming her thoughts. You don’t know me.
He was right. She did not know him. But she couldn’t stay away from the danger in Inebu-hedj. She had to speak with her father. If he couldn’t find the Thoth, perhaps he would give up. At last, he might tell her the truth.
A hand clapped over Zahra’s mouth. She screamed, dropping the basket and clawing at the arms that held her.
Another pair of hands went around her, forcing her to the ground.
Two cloaked figures stood over her, their hoods hiding their faces.
A cloth emitting a strong, sweet smell was shoved over her nose.
Zahra held her breath, but the hand over her mouth made it impossible for her to take in any air. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she breathed in the sweet smell. She stopped her struggle, falling into a deep sleep.
The sweet smell of barley wafted into Zahra’s nostrils. She scrunched her eyelids, which were heavy and refused to open. Her head rolled, the hammock behind her head hard and unpleasant.
Zahra forced open her eyes, and her surroundings slowly came into focus.
She was in a small room with walls made of mud brick.
The building was distinctly Ionian, with a thick cloth nailed across a nearby window.
Several thin mats, randomly placed piles of clothing, and long pieces of leather were scattered around the room.
Her hands were tied above her head on a wooden rod that was shoved deep into the dried mud. A thick piece of fabric sat in the back of her mouth, and it was tied so tightly that she could barely breathe or move her tongue.
Panic rose in her chest, and she started pulling at her bonds. Where was she? How had she gotten here?
Zahra coughed, trying to push the fabric loose from her mouth. Instead, it moved back into her throat, and she started to gag. Images of drowning flooded her mind, and her breaths became short and raspy, darkness flooding her vision.
The form of a person came into view. Zahra wheezed as the person walked closer. She leaned away, pulling on her bounds. The person slipped two fingers in Zahra’s mouth and pulled the fabric out.
Zahra gasped, falling forward as far as the ropes around her wrists would let her as she coughed.
She looked up in terror. An Ionian woman knelt before her, her light brown eyes studying Zahra with volatile interest. Her clothes were brown and completely covered her arms and legs.
A small scar sat under her right eye, and freckles dotted her skin.
Zahra’s throat twitched, causing her to whimper. The woman’s hand shot up, and Zahra breathed in fast as an iron blade appeared inches from her throat.
“Try it,” the woman warned in Auran.
Zahra shut her mouth, and the woman lowered the blade. The woman stood and pulled a wooden stool toward her. She sat in front of Zahra, twirling the blade in her hand.
Zahra swallowed, watching the knife. Her eyes flitted to the woman’s face. “Selene will hold you accountable for your actions.”
A thin smile crossed the woman’s lips. “She will, but if what I suspect about you is true, she will favor me.”
Zahra’s brow knitted. What was this woman talking about? Zahra thought of what her father had said last night, and the answer came to her mind. “Are you in league with Omar?”
Confusion flashed across the woman’s face. “Who is Omar?”
“My—” She shut her mouth. She couldn’t trust this person, and she couldn’t risk revealing information that might doom her.
The woman waited for Zahra to continue. When it was clear she would give no answer, she returned her attention to her blade. “What is your name?”
Zahra adjusted her position on the floor, trying to make her weak legs comfortable. “Zahra.”
The woman leaned closer and bored her gaze into Zahra. “Your real name?”
Zahra gritted her teeth.
The woman turned away. “You are a convert, then.”
“I am not,” Zahra defended, “but I am a citizen of Aur. I have been given a name by the Pharaohs’ people. Be thankful I gave you a name at all.”
The woman smiled at Zahra’s retort. “You love your King, do you?”
Zahra’s muscles tensed, confusion rolling through her mind. What was this woman playing at? “I love him as much as anyone does.”
“That’s not true.” A serious expression sat on the woman’s face. “What is your relationship with the King?”
Zahra gaped at the woman. “What?”
“I saw you with him this morning,” the woman claimed. “He left the pr-aa early to come see you. I want to know why.”
She’d been watching them? “The King wouldn’t leave the pr-aa to come see me. He is preparing for the—”
The woman lifted her blade toward Zahra’s nose, and Zahra shut her mouth. “I have waited for some time for you to wake up. Don’t test my patience further.”
Zahra stared at the small blade. She had never seen anything like it.
Its blade was straight and long, but shorter than the khopeshes the medjay wielded.
She recalled her father using one when she was young—a makhaira, she believed it was called.
The leather handle was well-worn, and the iron was red with rust—at least, Zahra hoped it was rust.
Zahra’s gaze rose to the woman’s eyes. “Who are you?”