Sandstorm (27 page)

"He will calm down," Wafai said calmly. His eyes fastened on the bruise on Sahayl's cheek, but he said nothing about it. "I will speak with Rafi, she will talk sense into him."

Isra wondered if that gleam in Wafai's eye meant that he would tell his wife exactly what her father had done to Sahayl. He repressed a shudder. Give him the anger of his honored uncle over his aunt any day. "You should eat," he said. "I doubt you were given a chance while soothing the ruffled feathers of all those idiots."

Shihab chuckled, giving Isra a thoughtful look. "Yes, food would be a good idea. You should tell us the details of the meeting, Sahayl, and we can work out where to go from here."

Sahayl nodded. He turned to Isra, starting to speak, but stopped. He frowned. "Cobra is not the first one you've attacked today, desert rose."

Isra smirked. "Wafai and I were getting acquainted. He still lets his guard down too easily."

"You fight dirty, Falcon," Wafai muttered.

Shihab laughed. "That he does."

"You are a fine one to talk," Isra shot back. He let his hand trace down Sahayl's arms until he reached his hand, and twined their fingers together. "Come," he said, "let's go find a meal."

All but dragging Sahayl from the room, leaving the others to follow behind, Isra led the way to the private rooms set aside for the Ghost Sheik - and now for the Prince. He let go of Sahayl to snatch at a passing soldier and barked orders for food, then led the way into the private dining room - another of the few rooms that had been as repaired as was possible.

Sahayl looked at him, amusement sparking in those gold eyes, as they sat down. "Saa, desert rose, you are in a fine temper today. Wafai, the Cobra Sheik…"

"Shihab was about to get it for cheating at taaki earlier. The moment I figure out how he's cheating, you can add him to the list."

"You have no patience for games of strategy, Isra," Shihab said with a laugh as he sat down.

"I still remember the day I tried to teach you chess." He shifted to make room for Bahadur beside him, with Wafai taking up the space to his right, Kahlil and Noor sitting down opposite Wafai.

Two Ghost entered bearing food and wine, greeting Sahayl and the others before bowing out. When they'd gone, Wafai stood and shut the door. "So tell us, Sandstorm Prince - was anything accomplished at the meeting?"

Sahayl summoned a smile, but it was obvious he was tired. "Some, I think. My skills at such things are glaringly lacking. Of course no one is happy with the authority I am claiming, but I do have the definitive support of Falcon…" he shook his head briefly in amusement, "and tentatively Horse, and Owl. Cobra…hopefully I can repair the damage I have done."

"Oh, things will be settled," Wafai said. "Wait until the Cobra Sheik speaks with his wife and daughter tonight. I believe he will come bearing an apology and pledging his cooperation in the morning."

Isra winced. "Women. My honored aunt is the most terrifying person in Falcon…especially when she is mad at my honored uncle." Around the table the other chuckled.

"Yes," Kahlil agreed. "I would much rather battle alone against Viper than return to my tent when my honored wife is angry with me."

"I am certainly learning that," Wafai agreed. "She was always nice to you, Sandstorm Prince."

Sahayl laughed. "Given how she treated me, I offer my condolences, brother of my soul." He set down a rolled up strip of hide, the specially treated kind used for maps that had to last through environments too tough for paper. "Many are still refusing, and I have told them that if they are not willing to accept my conditions they are welcome to leave - but I will deal with them accordingly should they prove to be a threat, and should they come back I will be slower to welcome them into my home a second time. However, some of the others…" he tugged free the bit of leather holding the rolled-up hide closed, and Isra barely kept from laughing at the expressions on the faces of Wafai, Kahlil, and Noor as they stared at the map Shihab had made.

"Impossible," Noor said. "This…cannot be…"

Kahlil shook his head. "Sandstorm Prince, however did you come by such a thing?"

"It is the result of many years work," Sahayl said slowly, "by a man who was probably the only one who could have done it."

Isra barely avoided shooting Sahayl a disgusted look - there would be no living with Shihab now. He wished these low tables allowed for kicking idiots under the table, because he could feel the way Shihab vibrated with pleasure at Sahayl's words.

"Who?" Wafai asked.

"A little shadow," Sahayl said.

Wafai's brows went up, and Isra could see he'd understood something Sahayl had left unsaid. So Sahayl didn't want anyone to know that Shihab was the mapmaker. Certainly if he were an angry Tribesman, the one who had dared to map the Desert would be first on his list of enemies. Without Shihab, all anyone need do was destroy all the map he'd created - and even Shahjahan's master map could probably be reached for the right price.

"I see," Wafai said. "So you showed the Sheiks the map."

"Yes," Sahayl said, rolling it up again. "It persuaded many of them to at least remain here and think things over. No doubt that translates as moving their homes, but they will not be able to do that until we can trust the Sands again. Which brings us to the real problem at hand."

"If there have been any more attacks, Sandstorm Prince, they have not come this far."

Shihab drummed his fingers on the table. "No doubt it's confusing them a great deal that so many Tribes have simply vanished."

Isra snorted. "I'm sure we've more than a few spies among us."

"No doubt," Shihab agreed. "However, the heathens could not have been expecting so many Tribes to gather here as they did. Nor can they attack us here without making their presence more obvious."

"Not true," Noor replied. "We've already driven back Jackal and Viper scouts - several miles from here, of course, but closer than we like. I think if we do not begin to hunt them out, then we will find ourselves under attack. Our palace would not hold up well, Sandstorm Prince, to such an attack, not if we're facing the enemy we think we are."

"Heathens cooperating with Tribe," Bahadur said, speaking for the first time. "Jackal combined with someone just as ruthless and far greedier is not a good combination. Nor do I like that they may be cooperating with Viper, with whom we always fought." His pale gold eyes flicked to Isra, then Sahayl. "I doubt peaceful motives drive their sudden truce. If they are working with the heathens, and all that his Majesty and Lord Ikram said of them is true…"

"We must hunt them out," Sahayl said grimly. "Wafai, Noor, Kahlil, discover which Tribes will assist us. Make note of those who will not. Any Sheik willing to help in this venture should report to the meeting hall early tomorrow morning. Any Amir and whatever counsel the Sheiks feel should be present are also welcome- but all to be approved by you, Wafai."

Wafai bowed his head. "Yes, Sandstorm Prince."

Sahayl nodded. "Good. Then let us go over everything we know once more. I think we should also begin hunting out other Tribes and offering refuge, now that we have a map with which to do it."

"I will do that, if you wish, Sandstorm Prince," Noor volunteered.

"Very well," Sahayl said, and looked briefly across the table at Shihab, who nodded. "Take Shihab with you. He has a talent for these things. Remember, though, that he is under my protection."

"Of course, Sandstorm Prince."

Sahayl handed him the map he'd showed them earlier, and Noor accepted it with a deep bow.

Isra sipped his tea as everyone began to discuss in earnest the precious few things they knew of the heathens, the methods of attack, what things to be especially wary of, and their best chance of driving their enemy from the Desert.

Twenty

Shihab fell back into the pillows surrounding the table, laughing hard, laughing even harder when Isra started beating him over the head with a pillow.

"Cheater!"

"I'm just a good strategist," Shihab said between blows, finally sweeping Isra's feet out from under him - but miscalculating, sending Isra crashing down on top of him. "You're heavy. Get off me."

"Don't knock me over."

"They are worse than siblings," Bahadur said, shaking his head, sharing a look with Sahayl.

Shihab shoved Isra away, pinching him hard, howling when Isra did the same and smacking him one more time before resuming his seat at the table. He took another sip of his wine, dark, rich Dark Spice, then began to reassemble the taaki pieces. "I do not cheat."

"Yes, you do," Isra groused, reassuming his seat beside Sahayl. "A born cheater."

Shihab smirked. "I'm just a master strategist."

Isra shot him a disgusted look.

"You are a master of mischief, little shadowfire," Sahayl said over the rim of his wine dish.

His dark gold eyes were bright with humor, and Shihab was happy to see it. As were Isra and Bahadur. And Wafai. He vaguely remembered them both from that brief encounter months ago, when he was still playing shadow.

He much preferred being a little shadowfire. Even if he wasn't little. Though next to the three of them, he guessed he was. Lady take his mother's birdlike build anyway. He might be little, but he was outsmarting all of them.

Sort of. Sahayl was being remarkably slow on figuring certain things out. He would eventually. Until then, Shihab would just keep pushing, and hinting…and maybe letting his hair fall just so, because he knew Sahayl was fascinated by it, as hard as he tried not to be…and probably felt guilty when he had Isra.

Silly sons of the Desert.

Though speaking of the Desert, if they were going to keep playing, they'd need more wine.

There were better ways to keep warm…but wine would do for now. At least they were having fun - since their arrival, Sahayl had been worked down to the bone. With sunrise, the work would only get more difficult. He would be leaving with Noor to search out various Tribes, and Sahayl would be leaving to begin hunting down heathens and those Tribes known to be traitorous. "I'm going to get more wine."

"Just call for it," Isra said.

Shihab waved the words away. "I need the fresh air, and perhaps while I'm gone the three of you can devise a taaki strategy that might almost beat me."

"Cheater," Isra muttered as he left.

Laughing, Shihab closed the door and turned left, choosing to stroll through what still sort of counted as the back halls - more secluded walkways not readily available to what had been the main part of the palace. What repairs could be managed were slowly being made, a surprising number of the gathered Tribes helping - perhaps because of the stories no Tribe ever completely forgot, perhaps because at least some of them knew to be grateful for what Sahayl was doing. He hoped so. Every day Sahayl slept a little less, unable to relax in the face of all that he had to do - things that no one else could do.

He shivered, wishing he'd remembered his robe and wasn't simply dressed in his vest - he went to get more wine to stay warm and forgot sleeves to keep him warm in the interim.

Showed where his thoughts were. Shihab snorted.

Sounds from his left snapped him from his thoughts, and Shihab turned to see the five men strolling toward him.

A strange mix of Tribes. One Cobra, two Scorpion, two Fox.

"Well, well," the Cobra said. "The heathen."

Shihab tensed, not liking that tone of voice, the way the group of men moved. He was a capable fighter, and knew how to make the most of his too-slender build…but he wouldn't be any match against five hulking sons of the Desert. "I am no heathen," he said politely. "In body I appear to be one, but mind and soul have always belonged to the Desert. Heathens are as strange to me as they are to you."

He'd expected more words, threats, because that was always how these things had gone before. But one moment they were walking toward him, the next his back met wall and he could feel his lip bleeding. Snarling, Shihab began to try driving them back, catching one in the groin, another across the face, doing his best to get through them, to where he could run, but they formed an impenetrable wall.

Then he stopped feeling anything.

"..fire. Shadowfire."

"Hmm?" Shihab slowly opened his eyes, and saw gold eyes watching him, so dark they looked black in the weak light.

Then the pain hit him. Shihab hissed, curling instinctively against Sahayl's warmth. "What?"

"Who hurt you, my shadowfire?"

"Yours?" Shihab managed, eyes sliding shut again, too heavy to keep open, and he just wanted the pain to…

When he woke again, there was sunlight and though he could tell he was in pain, it felt…distant.

"Shadowfire," a voice said, obviously relieved. Shihab turned to look at the speaker, immediately recognizing Bahadur's voice. Then he placed the strange feeling dulling his pain.

"Valtyanar," he said, then grimaced at how hoarse his own voice was.

Bahadur chuckled. "Your favorite. Can you sit up? Drink some water?"

"Yes," Shihab managed, and with Bahadur's help slowly began to sit up, grimacing but grateful that the pain wasn't as bad as it could have been. He sipped the water slowly, all too familiar with why drinking as much and as quickly as he wanted was a bad idea. "This makes the third time I've been beaten up for being either too Tavamaran or too heathen."

"It will be the last, shadowfire," Sahayl said from the doorway. He strode to the bed, and Shihab realized for the first time that he was in Sahayl's room - in Sahayl's bed. "Who hurt you, Shihab?" Sahayl asked, stopping beside the bed, reaching out to gently touch what Shihab realized was a bruise on his cheek.

He nuzzled into the touch, the warmth comforting, appealing, even in so gentle a touch. "Two Fox. One Cobra. Two Scorpion."

"Cobra?" Sahayl repeated softly. His fingers slid away, lingering briefly in Shihab's hair.

Shihab started to complain about the lost touch, but another thought occurred to him.

"Where's Isra?"

"Out with Wafai, hunting information on who might have assaulted you. It was that or watch him kill them all," Bahadur answered. "He is fierce when truly angry."