Savage Splendor (Savage Lagonda 2) (29 page)

Mara sighed and sank down beneath the soft fur. It seemed that no one could help her. She watched silently as Tabo withdrew. Falon bowed her head slightly and left also.

The warmth of the fur robes was seeping into Mara's cold body. Her mind could not deal with all the wondrous things she had seen tonight. Glancing at Andrew, she saw he was drifting off to sleep. And Mara, too, fell asleep.

Tajarez stood up slowly and turned to face Tabo. "I do not see the harm of telling Mara she is my wife. I have been patient long enough. You cannot imagine what it is like to have my own wife look at me with contempt."

"You must give me a few days to study her. What is a few days when you will have a whole lifetime with Mara?"

"How easily you speak of waiting, Tabo. I have never been long on patience. Would it not be better for Mara to know I am her husband? I told you I have already been with her on the journey home. You cannot imagine what she thinks of me, whom she believes to be married to another, while seeking to pleasure myself with her."

"This will all pass. Give me the few days I ask for," Tabo said, knowing full well his king was not a patient man.

Tajarez nodded grimly. "I will give you a little more time, but do not make it too long. You said my son was in good health?" Tajarez said, deciding to change the subject.

"Yes. He reminds me of you when you were his age."

"I want him moved to the nursery, where he can come to know his brother and sister. It is not good for him to be kept from them."

"Mara would object strongly should you take the baby from her at this time. I suggest you wait."

Tajarez glared at Tabo. "Is this all you can say to me: wait? I do not like to treat my own son as if he meant nothing to me." Tajarez's eyes blazed dangerously. "I am sick of waiting. I have hidden my feelings, trying not to let Mara see that the heart inside of me felt every pain she was feeling. I have stood by while she accused me of being faithless, and I could not defend myself to her." Tajarez walked away from Tabo and climbed the stairs that led to his bedroom. Halfway up the stairs he turned to the medicine man. "Make it soon, Tabo."

Jeffery watched Sasha from a reclining position on the bed. She tucked the covers about his son, whom they had named John, after Jeffery's father. When Sasha turned to him, he could read the sadness in her eyes. He held out his arms to her and she rushed into them.

"Do not be sad, Sasha. You will see Mara tomorrow," he said, lying her down beside him.

"I do not see the harm it would have done to see her tonight. It must have been frightening for her arriving here where everything is strange to her, with no one to greet her."

"Tajarez thought it would be difficult for her if she had to face strangers."

"I cannot bear to think Mara will think of me as a stranger," Sasha said, hiding her face against Jeffery's broad chest.

"Sasha, even I, her own brother, am a stranger to her. At the moment she does not think too highly of me, thinking I betrayed her for the sake of my king."

Sasha looked into the handsome face she loved so dearly. "I am glad you are home, I have missed you so badly."

Jeffery smiled as he began to loosen the laces that held her dress together. "Show me how much you welcome me, Sasha," he whispered.

Andrew woke Mara the next morning before the sun made its appearance. She fed and bathed him, dressing him in one of the white flannel gowns she had made for him, which was almost too small for him now. He was growing so fast. She looked at the huge stack of neatly folded baby clothes that had been sent to her for Andrew's use. Even if she had to dress her son in rags, she thought bitterly, she would not let him wear the cast-offs of Tajarez's son.

She had just placed Andrew in the cradle when the door opened and Falon entered carrying a tray. "Good morning, Mara. I hope you slept well."

"Yes, I did not awaken all night," Mara said, sitting down on the bed. Falon placed the tray across Mara's lap. There was a white napkin covering the food, and Falon removed it.

Mara tasted the meat, which was seasoned with some kind of spice, and found it to be very delicious. She ate almost all of the meat, and two honey cakes, finishing it off with a cup of coffee.

"Falon, last night I had tea, and today coffee. Where does it come from?"

"I am told that the king has it brought in. Mara, the king will be so glad when I tell him that you ate so well. He is concerned that you are too thin."

Mara felt her temper rising, and she did not attempt to stem the angry words that tumbled from her lips. "I was not aware that your king took an interest in my diet. Has he nothing better to do with his time than to worry about my weight?"

Falon looked distressed. "I am sorry. I did not mean to upset you. The king said no one was to cause you distress," Falon said, not knowing she was adding fuel to Mara's already rising ire.

"The only thing that distresses me, Falon, is your king. I am not one of his subjects, and I will not tolerate his interfering in my life."

Falon's eyes widened in horror. The poor queen was indeed very ill. She would
never
have spoken thus of the king if she were herself. Falon, like all of the people, loved her beautiful queen, and she felt tears in her eyes.

"I will take the tray, Mara." It was very difficult for Falon to call the queen by her name, but the king had ordered her to do so.

"Falon, forgive me for speaking to you so harshly. You must understand I am not angry with you. It is your king I am not happy with," Mara said in a kind voice, seeing she had upset the girl, who, it seemed, wanted only to please her.

Not knowing what to reply, Falon set the tray on a low table and walked across the room, pulling the silver sheeting aside to reveal a closet where many gowns were hung.

"Would you like to dress now, Mara?"

Mara stood up and walked over to the closet, looking at the many different-colored gowns. "You said that this clothing belonged to me?" Mara asked, looking at the obviously expensive wardrobe. There were shoes, boots, petticoats, and bonnets. Mara knew instinctively that the gowns came straight from Paris, France.

"Where did I get these gowns, Falon?"

"I am told you brought them with you when you first came to the city."

Mara felt her heart lighten as she ran her hand down the front of a green gauze gown that was embroidered with gold thread—another link to her past. She chose a plain blue gown.

"Evidently I was well clothed, before I came here," she said, more to herself than to Falon. She was glad she could now abandon the gowns she had made herself, as well as the doeskin dress. She would have more confidence when she was well gowned, she thought.             

The blue gown fit perfectly. Falon had brushed Mara's hair until it crackled, and it now framed her face in riotous curls. Studying her reflection in the silver sheeting, Mara was pleased with what she saw. "Am I permitted to leave this room, Falon?" "Of course. If you would like to look around, I will look after Andrew for you."

Mara looked up and down the long hallway, trying to remember in which direction the huge anteroom was located. If there was no one about she wanted to get a close look at the gold sheeting on the wall. Surprisingly, she found the palace warm, owing to the thick walls, she supposed. It did not take her long to find the anteroom, and to her relief she found it empty.

She gazed about the room in stunned silence. It was magnificent. There were twelve windows that ran from floor to ceiling. They were inlaid with diamond-bright windowpanes that resembled glass. The bright sunlight fell on the gold sheeting that adorned one whole wall. She stood beneath the gold sheeting and drew in her breath. There were the images of a great pharaoh and his family carved into the gold. There were rows of hieroglyphics, and Mara knew this was what Jeffery had told her she had been translating.

Reaching out her hand, she touched the wall. The gold felt cold to her fingertips, and she shivered. What manner of people were these people of the Lagonda tribe? How had they survived, for perhaps thousands of years, in this valley? Theirs appeared to be a civilization that would rival any in the world. How was it they had gone undetected? Her mind could not grasp the magnitude of what the discovery of the Seven Cities would mean to the rest of the world. She found herself hoping no one would ever find this valley.

Hearing voices, Mara stepped back into the shadows, not wanting to be discovered. Perhaps she was not supposed to be here. She could see two people descending the great staircase, and her eyes widened in disbelief.

Tajarez was dressed in a white toga-type wrap. Golden sandals were crisscrossed up his powerful legs to his knees. Around his neck was a golden neckpiece that hung to his waist. Atop his raven-black hair was a golden crown in the shape of two intertwined cobras. He looked like a god, a king, a pharaoh!

Mara's eyes shifted to the person at his side, and she felt pain in her heart as she looked at the beautiful Indian woman. She was dressed in tan-colored doeskin that was ornamented with silver. She wanted to hate this woman, whom she thought to be the queen. Jealousy burned in her heart, and she wanted to cry out in pain. Backing farther against the wall so they would not see her, Mara bumped into a table, and a golden dish clattered to the floor, making a loud noise that seemed to echo around the room.

Pressing her hand over her heart, Mara watched as Tajarez and his queen walked slowly toward her. There was a frown on Tajarez's face, and Mara thought she was about to face his anger for coming uninvited to the anteroom. Mara looked away from him to the woman who gave her a smile that lit her whole face. Stopping in front of her, the woman spoke.

"Mara, I am so happy to see you," Sasha said. She wanted to hug Mara and tell her there was no need to be frightened, for she read fright in the green eyes. Tajarez had warned her about Mara's condition, but seeing no recognition in her eyes was a painful experience to each person who encountered it for the first time.

"Forgive me if I am intruding," Mara blurted out and watched as Tajarez's face became a mask. Did he think she would tell his queen that he had committed an indiscretion with her? She smiled inwardly, thinking it would serve him right to squirm. Mara noticed Tajarez's hand went up to rest protectively on his queen's shoulder. She met his eyes, hoping he could not see how she was hurting at the sight of his hand touching the other woman.

"I will withdraw now," Mara said. "Please excuse me," she said, inching sideways. She could not get past them unless they moved aside to allow her to leave, she thought in a panic. She saw sadness in the woman's face, and squared her shoulders and raised her head proudly. She did not want pity from Tajarez's queen. Taking a step forward she came up against the solid wall of Tajarez's body, and he did not seem inclined to move aside.

"Excuse me, please, I would like to pass," she said, meeting his steady gaze.

"Did you pass a restful night, Mara?" he asked, not bothering to move out of her way.

"Will you please move aside so I can pass?" she said, hating the panic she heard in her own voice.

"Not just yet, Mara. There is someone who wishes to be presented to you."

Mara swallowed hard, but her eyes did not flinch as she looked at the lovely woman. On close inspection, Mara could find no flaw in the woman. Her skin was lightly bronzed. Her face was delicate and lovely. Her eyes were soft brown. Mara could easily see why Tajarez loved her.

"You do not need to tell me who this is. I have already determined that she is your wife."

Tajarez's eyes became dark storm centers.

"No!" Sasha said. "Oh Mara, you do not know me!"

"I am sorry," Mara said, totally confused. "You will have to forgive my lack of memory. If you are not the queen, then who are you?"

Tears sparkled in the soft doe like eyes as the woman reached out and took Mara's hand. "Mara, I am Jeffery's wife, Sasha, your sister-in-law."

Mara could not have been more astounded if the woman had told her she was the queen of England. "I am terribly embarrassed. Please forgive me. I feel so f . . . foolish," she stammered.

Sasha's arms went around Mara's shoulders comfortingly. "There is no reason for you to be concerned about me, Mara. You and I were best friends. Although you cannot remember, I certainly do."

Mara moved slightly away from Sasha. "I believe you have a son," she said, trying to bring some substance of sanity into her conversation.

"Yes, he is named after your father, Mara."

"I am sorry," Mara said, again feeling at a disadvantage. "You see, I do not remember my father's name."

"Your father's name was John, and that is your brother's son's name," Sasha informed her. "I am told you have a very handsome son, called Andrew. I wonder if you would allow me to see him?"

"Yes, of course," Mara said gratefully, glad for any excuse that would take her away from the dark, brooding Tajarez. How different he seemed in his regal apparel. It was hard to think of him as the man who had held her naked body in his arms and whispered passionate words in her ear. Her eyes moved to rest on the crown with the double cobra that encircled his head. When she looked into his eyes, she could not read the expression she saw there.