Chapter 13
The trouble came a day short of Salé.
Samira saw it before anyone else did. A flock of sandgrouse lifted out of the wadi ahead, wheeled once over the track, and flew off north without coming down again.
They had meant to drink there, and something had stopped them.
Above the far bank a thin haze of dust hung in the air, though there was no wind to raise it.
She leaned from her mule and studied the ground.
Sandal prints crossed the track, heavy at the heel, their edges still crisp.
The night's damp had set a thin crust on the sand at dawn, and these had broken it since.
Many men. Not long ago. No goat tracks among them, so not herders.
The guide rode on ahead, humming to himself.
She drew level with Torstein. "Men in the watercourse. Ten, perhaps more. They crossed after sunrise."
He did not ask how she knew. He looked once at the ridge, then turned and said something low in Norn, and Njal and Mathias loosened the ties on their sword hilts without breaking stride.
Samira felt a burning sensation on her birthmark just as eleven men on foot came out of the dry watercourse with spears and long knives.
"Bandits," the guide said.
"No." Torstein was already off his mule. "Bandits do not go for the back of the train first."
Four of them came straight for Samira. She came off her mule with the blade already in her hand and put her back to the animal's flank, and Torstein arrived there half a heartbeat later like a wall dropping out of the sky.
"Do not get in my way," she said.
"Too late."
Torstein and his men dealt with eight of the attackers swiftly, disarming them and leaving them incapacitated. The remaining three fled, having been chased off by two horsemen who had appeared at the back of the attackers in the distance.
Torstein crouched beside the nearest of the fallen men, cut the purse from his belt and tipped it into his palm. Norman silver. He checked two more and found the same.
"The Brotherhood," he said. "They paid these men."
"Normans," Njal said slowly.
Mathias had moved to the four who came for Samira. He straightened. "Not these. No purse, no coin, nothing on them at all." He turned one over with his foot. "Bought men carry their pay. These were sent."
"By whom?" Torstein asked.
"Someone who wanted your wife. Only her."
Torstein stiffened with anxiety before the two riders approached.
The taller rider pushed back his head wrap.
"Torstein Hagansson," he said. "You are far from home."
Torstein stared in disbelief. "Ajani?"
The second rider was already unwrapping his face, grinning wide.
Torstein went down on one knee. "Prince."
"Get up. Up." Prince Kato hauled him to his feet and embraced him. "There is nobody here to be impressed."
They greeted one another with hugs and a good deal of banter. Kato was not only a prince but also Jarl Thorfinn's illegitimate son, and Ajani was the man who had first told Torstein about a place called Morocco, several years prior.
"What are you doing here?" Torstein asked.
Kato waved a hand. "Three weeks we have been on the trail of rebels. Men stirring the coast road, well paid and badly disciplined. These are the same. Someone is buying trouble in our kingdom, and we are following the trail in the hope of finding them soon. What brings you here?"
"An errand from your sire and some trade opportunities in Fez," Torstein replied.
Somewhere in the midst of it all, Kato saw Samira, and the look he wore changed entirely. "And who is this?" he asked.
"She is my legal wife, recognized by the laws of this region, and she is not your concern," Torstein clipped as his arm wrapped around her back.
Samira was still holding the koummya. There was blood on it.
Kato and Ajani both raised their brows, and then, much to Samira's surprise, they burst out laughing at Torstein's possessiveness.
"Mabrouk. I did not mean to give offense. Congratulations on securing such a fine wife with excellent fighting skills," Kato replied.
Samira blushed but nodded.
Torstein narrowed his eyes at them. He had never in his life been the jealous type, but right now he was ready to punch the handsome prince in the face for daring to admire his woman.
Samira looked from one man to the other, then confessed, "I have seen you both before. In the souk, at the spice sellers, not a month past."
Kato paused, studying her face. Then his eyes lit. "You are the saffron woman! I heard you driving a hard bargain."
She grinned then. "He wanted more, he got less."
"He looked as if he had been robbed," Kato said, then laughed and swept her a bow.
Torstein felt his jaw set hard. He did not like the easy manner in which Kato spoke to his wife.
While he was still glaring at Kato, he missed the amusement on the faces of his men. They were enjoying watching their chief's jealousy because it was a trait they had never seen him display for any woman.
***
THEY TRAVELED ANOTHER two miles west before making camp for the night.
Torstein had the tent pegged and was laying out their bed against a low shelf of rock, out of the wind, when Samira caught his wrist.
"Not there."
"It is sheltered."
"That is what the scorpions think." She pushed at the nearest stone with her toe and rolled it over.
Something small and pale lifted its tail and scuttled for the dark.
"They hide under stones through the heat of the day and hunt at night.
Put the bed on open sand, away from the rock, and off the ground if you can. "
He moved it without a word and raised it on the saddle packs. Samira drew his knife from his belt, crouched, and traced a circle in the sand around the bed, murmuring Bismillah under her breath as she went.
Torstein watched her close it. "That keeps them out?"
"No. A scorpion walks over a line as easily as you do." She handed back his knife. "The circle is for the jinn. For the scorpions, you shake out your sandals before you put them on in the morning."
He looked at the circle, then at her, and she could not tell whether he believed a word of it. Then he turned to the men. "Beds off the rocks," he told them in Norn. "Turn the stones before you lie down, and shake out your sandals come morning. There are scorpions here the size of your thumb."
When Samira glanced back from the fire a while later, Torstein was standing by the tent knocking his sandals together, one against the other.
Kato and Ajani joined them and sat by the fire.
Kato looked as if he was about to seat himself closer to Samira when Torstein plonked himself right beside her, so he was plastered to her side.
"You are sitting on my cloak," Samira said.
"Aye."
"Are you going to move?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"He is sitting on your cloak so the prince cannot get near you," Mathias answered with amusement.
"I can hear you," Torstein said.
"We know," replied Njal. "Fifteen years I have sailed with him," he said in Norn. "I have never once seen him jealous."
"Never," Mathias agreed.
Kato, who understood every word, grinned and replied, "Are you worried your wife would prefer a good-looking prince to you? You know if she were to marry me instead, I could provide a good life for her."
Torstein growled and glared daggers at Kato. "How would you like it if I rearranged that pretty face of yours so it matches the look of your arse!"
That had all the men roaring with laughter.
Njal translated the quip for Samira, who was not quite sure what to make of such crudeness. But she smiled inwardly, knowing that for some reason her husband was jealous and dared even to insult royalty.
Soon the banter lessened as they ate their meal under the stars. Torstein placed another cloak over her shoulders and kept his arm firmly behind her back. It wasn't until she muffled a yawn that he stood and walked her back to their well-stocked Bedouin tent before he returned to the fire.
Samira washed with the water provided, then lay down on the makeshift bed Torstein had raised for her and fell asleep from exhaustion.
When she woke later in the night, it was to find her husband plastered against her, even in sleep, one arm around her waist and her body tucked against his.
She smiled and burrowed closer into his arms for warmth until sleep claimed her once more.
***
THEY PARTED IN THE morning where the road forked north.
"Salé, then Lisbon, then home," Kato said, swinging up. "A month behind you at best. Tell my father I am alive and that I have found something worth following. And send my greetings to my sister, Zala, her husband, and my nieces and nephews."
Then he looked down at Samira.
"I bid you safe travels and a long and happy marriage with many sons and daughters."
"Shukran, Prince," she replied.
Ajani clasped Torstein's forearm last. "You finally got here. All those years you asked so many questions, now you know. Peace be upon you and may your travels be safe."
"Peace be upon you."
Then the two parties went their separate ways.
***