Set to Flame (Flame Series) (5 page)

She decided she would not tell him of the man who had his eye burned from its socket and his flesh sliced and pierced as if but a piece of meat.  “How would we do this?”

The boy shrugged, and she knew she had his support, but this was her domain.  She knew the palace and would have to come up with the escape plan herself. 

“For now we only speak of mundane things.  Tell me of home and I will teach you of Islam.  Come, walk with me.”

~  
~   ~

Marcus watched the way his angel moved into the room.  He had such a possessive feeling wash over him he knew he was dreaming for he never experienced the feeling with a woman before.  He would fight, even die for Garrick and he had to acknowledge that same feeling of loyalty and protectiveness where she was concerned.  Not because she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen but because there was just something about her.  He wanted to be her knight in shining armor, slay all her dragons.

She came to him, her hips swaying provocatively.  There was no doubt she was a concubine for she moved so seductively someone had to have taught it to her as a way to entice her master.  How Marcus envied that man.  He had his own overwhelming desire to never part from her.  Did he want to possess her as his slave?  Evil seemed to radiate from him as he made up his mind that he would do anything to possess her.  He wanted to consume her, to command her, enflame her.  He would be her master and he would be just as possessive as
Ghalib for he understood the man now, why he kept her, dressed her, bedded her. 

She came to stand before him, no bashfulness that she was without a stitch of clothing on.  Her lips twisted upward into a beckoning smile.  Her eyes tilted a little more at the corners and the green depths begged him to take her in his arms.  He reached for her and she squirmed against him as his rough hands tightened around her.  Her ebony hair fell around him, soft as down it tickled his cheek.  He smelled her, lavender mingled with an exotic fragrance that was almost heady, and sex.  He was her master now.  No one else was supposed to touch her, let alone leave his scent upon her. 

Anger rushed through him and he tightened his grip more.  The fabric of her cloak would do little to protect her from the bruises his fingers would leave.  He inhaled deeply but he still smelled the other man on her, and something else.  Something earthier, filth and decay and it all mixed with the odor of his own body. 

His eyes opened to focus on the woman he held in his grip.  He was shackled in the prison and he saw fear in the eyes of the woman he held.  He eased his grip but did not release her.  He was so close to her lips.  She could not protest if he kissed her.  She would not dare make a sound, she was his and he could do anything with her as long as it was
within the length of his irons.  He drew her closer, gently this time, and inhaled her scent yet again.  Whatever his desires this woman did not belong here.  Not just in the prison but this place.  She didn’t belong in the Emir’s household, he saw it in her eyes as he held her before him.  She too was Ghalib’s prisoner.  He released her as if she burned him.  He would not be the one to add to that haunted look.   

“Devlin is with me.”  Her whisper caressed his ear and, for a moment, he did not know who or what she was talking about.

He jerked back as if bitten and stared at her a second as if she had two heads.  When he opened his mouth to speak, her delicate fingers covered his lips.  He inhaled the scent of them and craved desperately to draw one into his mouth and taste it.  “They are after the commander.”

~  
~   ~

Alena’s heart seized in her chest as his hand swept across the room.  He pointed to the man who was identical to the one whose eye had been removed.  Anger flooded her.  Why did she have to know this secret?  Wasn’t her circumstance in this life precarious enough without adding treason to it?  That’s why she didn’t want Devlin to tell her the details of the knights in prison, so she could never be tortured for the information and never turn them over to their enemy.  Now she knew what Ghalib sought, and she wanted to cry from the stark terror this filled her with.

His eyes widened, and he attempted to grab her hand as she pulled away.  She saw knowledge flash in his eyes of the danger he had just placed her in.  She refused his touch.  She had saved that moment to look upon the commander’s replica and was horrified at the additional damage done him.  It appeared as if they had cut his tongue from him.  Large gashes from a knife filleted the side of his mouth as if the tall man had struggled the entire time.  Now he lay still as death.  She was relieved yet saddened to find he still breathed.  Would they continue to torture him until he died or would they leave him to suffer and move on to another?  Perhaps the man who had shielded her?  She didn’t know why he would stand out in her mind as the one she would most be saddened by. 

The men ate their bread and drank their share of wine while Alena tended their wounds.  She gave larger doses of the hemlock to the most injured men, the tears streaming down her face as she looked them over wondered who would be taken from the cell tomorrow.  Her eyes fell on the one who had shielded her and she felt her feet being inexplicably drawn to him.  She crouched down before him and leaned forward.  Ignoring the stench his situation created she whispered in his ear, “God be with you.”

When she began to pull away, his hands took her by the arms and stopped her.  As she hovered close to him, he reached a dirt stained hand toward her to wipe away a tear, but stopped only a breath away.  He was covered in filth, but that was not the reason she did not want him to touch her.  She pulled away quickly this time and fled the chamber.

~   ~   ~

She came up with a plan.  The thought of it rolled her stomach making it impossible for her to eat throughout the day.  She shared the plan with Devlin and told him how to sneak past the guards in Ghalib’s quarters and at the prison.  The next time Ghalib summoned her Devlin would try to get by the guards and free his knights.  She gave the boy details of the route he was to travel and where the keys could be found.

“
Alena, the Emir has requested your presence,” Phillip said invading her thoughts as she stared out at the waning evening light. 

“But it’s so early,” she said hiding the fact her nerves were on edge.

He quirked a brow at her ridiculous statement.  Their master was one of the most powerful of Saladin’s sheiks after all.  “He wants you in his chamber now and wishes you only change into the burgundy gown.”

Alena’s
feet carried her to her chamber and the trunk where the burgundy gown lay on top.  She refused to show the sniveling tattletale that she was scared.  She pulled the gown out while plunging her hand further into the trunk and palmed the vial before turning with the dress in hand.  It took no time to don the dress with the help of two of the slaves whose sole purpose was to cater to the Emir’s women.  She took the headdress Phillip held out before her.  She thought it ridiculous that a whore had to keep her head covered.

As she moved down the corridor she worried Devlin would try the escape now, but now was too early.  The guard was still at his post.  Devlin would never get out of the women’s quarters or into the prison without being caught.  They would kill him if they did not believe his explanation as to why he was where he should not be.

Keys!  It came to her so vividly in her mind’s eye, she did not put the keys on the peg by the entrance.  Her heart hammered in her chest as her steps faltered.  The Emir knew what she had been doing.  She recovered quickly and had a mask of indifference on as she entered the luxurious chambers.  “Come Alena,” Ghalib called from his position by the hearth.

As soon as she stepped close his eyes snapped together, and he scowled down at her.  “You are the most ungrateful woman,” he spat at her.  He grabbed her arm, first ripping the headdress to release her dark hair then to snatch the dress from her back the sound of the tearing clothing making her shudder.  He stood back with a self satisfied smirk. 

“You are far too lovely to be clothed at any rate,” he said as if he were reasoning with her. “Finish undressing,” he said with a wave of his hand at the undergarments that still clothed her.  He reached for his jeweled cup and drank from it. 

She narrowed her eyes at him as she complied.  “Is this why you have called me here?” she asked as she straightened before him without a stitch of clothing on.

The man scowled.  He was a man who was used to not being questioned in any motive.  “No,” he began surprising her that he would give her a reason.  He reached out, took her arm gently and pulled her toward the double doors that led out onto his balcony.  He pushed her out onto it as he followed right at her back.  In the prison courtyard was a set of stocks that had been made upon a platform.  Around the platform debris was being stacked, and it was obvious someone would be burned alive.  Her body went cold as he wrapped his arms around her, placing a breast in each hand.  “As you can see there will be excitement at dusk, and I could not wait until after.”

Sensation rushed back to her body at once and all she could feel were her legs turned to jelly and his cold claw like hands kneading her breasts.  Those hands squeezed her tight, making
Alena gasp from the pain of his bony fingers digging into her skin.  He released her.  As if she was of no further consequence he walked around her to stand by the rail of the balcony overlooking the courtyard.  “Bring me more wine,” he ordered with a neglectful wave.  Glancing repeatedly behind her to ensure he did not turn, she dove for the gown to dig the vial from its folds.  She did not know how much to use so only dumped half its contents into the glass before covering the possible flavor with wine.  She carried it back to him, pausing in the doorway.  He turned and glared at her, pointing to the spot beside him.  She sighed and stepped forward, handing his drink to him.  He took it and snaked an arm around her waist pulling her in front of him and against his groin.

He took a long drink
from the cup then sat it on the balcony rail.  His hands fell on her then, all over her, groping and digging.  As twilight began to fall the door to the prison opened at the same instance Ghalib lifted her hands and placed them on the rail.  He bent her at the waist while keeping her hips firmly planted against him.  Her eyes were riveted to the door and felt only a moment of her usual shame and dismay when she felt the emir press himself into her. 

Guards stepped forward into the courtyard, her fingers turning white as she gripped the rail.  She felt as if the man behind her would rip her apart from the angle and the strength of his thrusts.  Then he was pulling out and reaching for the chalice by her hand
.  The man whose eye had been gouged from his body was half dragged, half carried out the door and into the waning light of day. 
Dear Jesus
, she prayed.  Did this mean Ghalib knew of her visits to the prison? It would be typical of him to play such a mind game.  Make her watch a man burn to death that she had cared for.

“There’s something thrilling about a person getting his just des
serts,” Ghalib said before sitting the container back down on the rail and driving into her again.  As they attached the man to the platform that would be soon burning around him the Emir’s breaths began to pant in her ear and she hoped soon he would spend himself and release her.  No such luck, he stopped again reaching for the goblet.  He drained the entire contents before placing it back on the rail. 

Turning her, he smiled down into her face then in a flash he had a handful of her hair and yanked her head back so she was forced to stare up at his face.  The intent on his face was fleeting, followed by a momentary blank stare which ended in a scowl.  “Get
yourself to my bed,” he said flinging her away.

She hesitated unsure what to do because her mind was racing with the man’s plight outside as they prepared to burn him.  In turmoil, she turned away from the man and went to the bed.  She climbed onto the high covers and turned to watch the Emir’s approach.  He took three determined strides and suddenly faltered as if he had forgotten where it was he was going.  He stopped in his tracks and looked about himself, his eyes landing on her.  His face became thunderous as he hesitated again.  With fury he bore down upon her, her heart
stopped beating and lodged itself in her throat.  He seized the edge of the bed she crouched upon and nearly fell.  Again his eyes came to her, and she watched them refocus.  His face was positively savage as he gained the bed and stalked her across it.  He moved more slowly, she felt his determination and knew whatever kind of drug she gave the man it was working. 
Not fast enough
she thought in a panic as he pounced on her, driving her down into the mattress seizing the back of her head as he imprisoned her with his body.

“You little bitch,” he said, his words he fought to force between his lips.

His hand tightened painfully on her head, and his other hand came out to cover her breast.  “I am the Emir and you will pay for what you have done.”  He dug his fingers into her painfully before his whole body went limp collapsing on top of her.  With a shudder, she wiggled her way from beneath him.  Gaining her feet she raced to the edge of the doorway and looked out at the progress of the burning.  The man was in his chains, but brush was still being piled around him.  She ran for her gown but remembered it was in tatters.  Franticly she searched the room and found a cloak to throw over her shoulders.  From the dress, she retrieved the vial.  Suddenly a long, agonized scream rent the air outside, and she saw the glow of the fire illuminate the fallen darkness. 
Dear God in heaven
, she pleaded for the man outside.