The Treasure (13 page)

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Authors: Iris Johansen

BOOK: The Treasure
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Agony tore through her. She cradled him in her arms, rocking back and forth.

“Get away from him,” Balkir said.

She scarcely heard him.

He took a threatening step forward. “I said, move away from that—”

“By Allah, what have you done, Balkir?” Nasim was striding toward them from the direction of the tents.

Balkir cringed. “They were trying to escape. You said we would kill the woman if he betrayed us.”

“You clumsy fool, I didn’t say to kill Kadar.”

“He stepped in front of my sword.”

Nasim knelt beside Kadar.

Selene drew Kadar closer. “Don’t you touch him,” she said fiercely.

He ignored her as he examined the wound caused by the sword thrust. “He’s not dead yet, but it’s a death wound.” He glared menacingly at Balkir. “He won’t last the night.”

“He stepped in front of my sword,” Balkir repeated.

“Leave us alone,” Selene said. “He won’t die. I won’t let him.”

“No one can save him. It’s a death wound,” Nasim said. “Tarik and I will both be cheated of him.” He suddenly went still. “Or perhaps not.” He turned to Balkir. “Prepare a stretcher and put him on it. Be gentle. I’ll not have your clumsiness kill him too quickly. We’ll send him back to Tarik.”

Balkir scurried away.

Nasim turned back to Selene. “Go with him. Tarik can heal him if he chooses. Persuade him to use his powers.” He turned and stalked after Balkir with not another glance at Kadar.

Tarik could heal him. She grasped desperately at the straw Nasim had extended. Kadar didn’t have to die. Tarik could help him.

Dear God, Kadar was so still. It seemed impossible he wasn’t dead already.

Selene’s grasp tightened around him as she rocked back and forth.

Live, Kadar.

Live until I can get you to Tarik.

TARIK MET THEM as they entered the gates.

“Great gods.” Tarik’s face twisted with pain as he looked down at Kadar lying on the stretcher in the courtyard. “What happened?”

“He saved me,” Selene said. “He’s
not
going to die because he saved me. Do you hear me? He’s not going to die at all.”

Tarik bent down to examine the wound. “Bring that torch closer,” he said to the soldier a few steps behind him.

The light of the torch flickered over Kadar’s pale face. Tarik gently pushed aside the linens covering the wound. He closed his eyes for an instant as he saw the gaping hole. “A death wound.”

The same words Nasim had uttered. “It’s not a death wound,”

Selene glared up at him. “Stop saying that.”

Tarik gently touched her hair. “Child, he’s dying.”

She shook off his touch. “Then do something. Or tell me what to do. Nasim said you could heal him. Do it.”

He stiffened. “Nasim said that?”

“He said you had the power to heal.”

“Damn him.”

“If you have any power, you have to heal Kadar.”

“I’m no sorcerer.” He scowled. “Nasim doesn’t care about Kadar. It’s a test, and I won’t let him maneuver me into this position.”

“Don’t
tell
me that.” Her eyes blazed in her white face. “Kadar isn’t a battleground for you and Nasim to test your strengths. He’s a man, a far better man than either one of you. I don’t care if you use sorcery or prayer. It doesn’t matter as long as you heal him.”

His expression became shuttered. “It does matter. More than you know.”

He wasn’t going to help, Selene realized in panic. He was going to let Kadar die. She closed her eyes as waves of pain flowed over her. “Please,” she whispered. “I’ll do anything you say for the rest of my life. Do you want a slave? I’ll be a slave. Just save him.”

“Selene . . .”

When she opened her eyes, she could barely see him through the veil of tears. “Answer me. Can you save him?”

He was silent a moment before he said, “Possibly. I have some medicinal skills.”

“Then use them.”

“He’s too ill to consent to my helping him.”

“What difference does that make? I’ll consent. I’ll be responsible.”

“Responsibility can be a terrible burden. One must think carefully about—”

“Stop talking.” She tried to steady her voice. “He’s lying here dying. He may slip away at any moment.”

He stood there looking at her. Then he turned on his heel. “Take him to his chamber and get him to bed. I’ll join you very soon.”

Hope flared within her. She scrambled to her feet but kept tight hold of Kadar’s hand as the soldiers lifted the stretcher.

“Hold on. It’s going to be all right,” she whispered. “Do you hear me, Kadar? We’ve got a chance now.”

         

She was kneeling by Kadar’s bed when Tarik came into the room, carrying a black leather pouch. “Where have you been? It’s been almost an hour.”

“You’re fortunate I’m here at all. I’m not convinced I’m doing the right thing in interfering.” He opened the pouch and set two small bottles on the bedside table. “Perhaps God meant Kadar to die this night.”

“No.”

“He may still die. It may be too late to save him.” He pointed at the tiny blue bottle. “Make him swallow every drop of the contents of this vial. Then wait an hour and give him the contents of the white vial. It will settle his stomach.” He drew the strings of the pouch. “As I said, he may still die. The medicine is very strong and he’s barely holding on.”

“When will I know?”

“If he’s still alive at dawn, he has a good chance.” He turned and left the chamber.

Dawn. Daybreak must be at least four hours away. Tarik didn’t expect Kadar to live for that dawning.

He
would
live.

She pulled the stopper on the tiny blue bottle. So small a vial to hold all her hopes. Her hand was shaking as she lifted it to Kadar’s lips.

She parted his lips and poured a tiny portion into his mouth, then stroked his throat until he swallowed. She followed the procedure three times until the bottle was empty.

She set the empty vial on the table. One more hour and she would give him the potion to soothe his stomach.

If he lived that long.

She knelt again on the floor by his bed and laid her cheek on his hand. “Help me, Kadar,” she whispered. “We’ve been together so long. I don’t think I can live if you die.”

He did not stir. He was so still he gave the appearance of death even now.

She shivered and then blocked that cruel thought. She must not think of death but of life. Tarik’s medicine would heal him.

If only Kadar could hold on until dawn.

         

Dawn came and passed. Noon came and passed.

Kadar lived but remained in that deathlike stupor.

Evening was drawing near when Tarik returned to the chamber.

“He still lives?” He came over to the bed and examined the wound. “No fester. It may be starting to heal.”

“He won’t wake up. I need more medicine to give him.”

Tarik shook his head. “It’s too strong. A deep sleep is not uncommon in these instances. He will wake when he’s ready.”

“But he will live?”

Tarik nodded. “Without question.”

Joy and relief surged through her with dizzying force. “Thank God.”

“Perhaps.” He turned to leave. “I’ll send Haroun to help you. You’ll need his assistance when Kadar wakes. I’ll return tomorrow to check his wound.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “And get some sleep. You look worse than he does.”

“I’ll sleep when he wakes.”

“That could be days.” When she didn’t reply, he shrugged and smiled faintly. “Do what you will. I suppose a few days without sleep won’t harm you.”

She forced a smile. “If it does, you can give me some of your fine medicine.”

His smile disappeared. “No, I won’t interfere again. Harm yourself and you’ll have to do your own healing.”

She looked at the empty vial on the table. “Was it a sorcerer’s brew?”

“I thought you didn’t care, if it saved Kadar.”

“I don’t. I just wanted to know.”

“It’s no sorcerer’s brew. I have no magic powers. As a young man, I worked in a house where such medicines were used on occasion.”

“But you said Nasim sent you Kadar as a test. He clearly believes you have magical powers.”

“Does he?”

“You know he does.”

“I know he questions everything and everyone. Do you believe in magic, Selene?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen strange things.” She straightened her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter. If magic will cure Kadar, it can’t be bad.”

He chuckled. “Always practical and clear-seeing. You’d use the devil himself if it suited you.”

“Why not?” She turned back to Kadar. “I’ll need a strengthening broth to feed him. Will you see to it?”

“I’m dismissed?” She could hear the amusement in his tone. “Yes, I’ll see to it, Selene.”

______

Kadar woke near dawn of the next day. One moment he was sleeping deeply and the next he was staring up at her, wide-awake.

“What’s wrong? You look terrible. Are you ill?” he whispered.

“No, you are.” She tried to subdue the joy soaring through her. He was
alive.
He was with her again. “Don’t you remember?”

He thought for a moment. “Balkir.”

She nodded.

“How long ago?”

“This is the second dawn.” She shuddered. “It was a terrible wound. Everyone thought you’d die, but Tarik saved you.”

“How?”

“He had a medicinal potion that cured you.”

“And how did I come to be back here?”

“Nasim sent us back. He said he knew Tarik could save you.”

“Interesting. What else did—”

“Be silent. You must save your strength.”

“I don’t feel weak. I’m growing stronger every minute.”

“Oh, no, you’re not at all weak. That’s why you’ve slept like the dead for all this time.”

“If I’m ill, you should have the mercy to refrain from stinging me with your serpent’s tongue. It might send me into a decline.”

Did he speak truth? Dear God in heaven, she had not meant to—

“Don’t look like that. I was jesting.”

“A poor jest,” she said unsteadily.

He reached out and gently touched the delicate skin beneath her eye. “Shadows. You’re wizened and gaunt as an old woman. It would make anyone sick to gaze at that face.”

“Ungrateful oaf.”

“Go away and rest. I need someone both more pleasant to behold and more appreciative of my humor to tend me.”

She rose to her feet. “Then I’ll no longer waste my time on you. I’ll send Haroun to care for your needs.”

“For the next day and night. After that you may be recovered enough that I can tolerate you.”

“And am I to tolerate your abuse? You’re a foolish man, and I should never have suffered and labored to keep your carcass alive. I didn’t ask you to step in front of Balkir’s sword.”

“I could do nothing else.” His eyes closed. “But at the moment I’m feeling a few twinges of regret. This hole in my chest must be as big as a turret.”

She instantly frowned in concern. “Are you in pain?”

“Perhaps.” He opened one eye and smiled slyly. “Or perhaps I see no other way to hold my own with you. You cannot attack a man in such woeful straits.”

“I could.” She moved toward the door. “And I will, if you don’t behave yourself.”

“I’ll try.”

His voice was a mere wisp, and she glanced back at him with renewed panic. He looked so pale and weak. He had come so close to death, and that specter might still be hovering. “Balkir almost killed you. We were both wrong about him.”

“I knew he could be dangerous if backed into a corner.”

“And yet you wanted him to come with us. You said you would have asked for him.”

“I wanted him close.”

“Why?”

“He had to pay for what he did at Montdhu.” He didn’t open his eyes. “He hurt you. . . .”

         

Tarik was standing over him when Kadar woke again.

“So you survived,” Tarik said. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

“You appear to be disappointed.”

“I’m not disappointed. I just don’t like to interfere when death comes calling.”

“Then you shouldn’t have helped me to live.”

Tarik grimaced. “I had no choice. Selene would have cut my throat if I hadn’t found a way to keep you alive. She can be very savage.”

“And that’s the only reason you saved me?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. I choose not to examine my motives in the matter. How do you feel?”

“Well enough.”

“Pain?”

“Yes. Can you give me a potion to rid me of it?”

“No, you must bear it. I’ve no potion to prevent the pain of healing. Besides, I’ve done too much already. Nasim will probably hear that you still live and assume I’ve delved into sorcerers’ tricks to bring that about.”

“And have you?”

“You too?” He sighed. “I’m no sorcerer, and we must try to convince Nasim of that truth. Now he’ll be more certain than ever that my treasure gives power, and I’ve no desire to battle him at present.”

“He’ll go away if you give him the golden box.” Kadar paused. “And the grail with it.”

Tarik smiled. “But then you’d have no reason to stay, and I’d be desolate if I could no longer have the pleasure of your company. No, I think we must think of another ploy to rid ourselves of Nasim.”

“We? I came here on Nasim’s mission.”

“But don’t you think a sword through the chest frees you of any promise to him? That act would sway even someone as stubborn as you.” He turned to go. “Think upon it. I’ll return tomorrow to check your progress. I think you’ll heal quickly, but one never knows with a chest wound.”

______

Within a week Kadar was well enough to sit up in bed. Another few days and he was taking a few halting steps around the chamber. By the second week he was prowling like a tiger and proving the impossible.

“Sit
down,
” Selene said. “I’ve never seen such a foolish man. What if your wound breaks open?”

“It’s healing well. I don’t believe there is any danger.” He paused and then said tentatively, “I think I’ll go down to the courtyard today.”

“You most certainly will not.” She pushed him down in the chair. “I’ve not worked to get you well to have you spoil everything by being impatient.”

“Is he proving troublesome?” Tarik stood in the doorway. “I suppose I could toss him over the battlements to Nasim.”

“Are you sure Nasim is still here?” Kadar asked.

“Oh, yes, I understand he’s still waiting like a hungry cobra scenting a saucer of milk.” He strolled forward. “I’ve always feared cobras. When I was a boy, it was not uncommon to wake and see a snake slithering about the floor of the hut where I lived. I learned to leave nothing about to attract them.”

“You didn’t learn that lesson well.”

Tarik chuckled. “You speak of my treasure? One must always weigh threat against value. Someday I may decide that the threat is greater than the prize, but that time is not yet. Besides, the treasure may not be the only saucer of milk Nasim is hungering after. I believe he’s curious.”

“About why Kadar is still alive?” Selene asked.

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