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Authors: Iris Johansen

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BOOK: The Treasure
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He opened the door. She wasn’t going to be able to stop him, she realized in despair.

“Then go. Live with your damnable guilt. Eat with it, sleep with it.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not hurting me.” She raised her chin. “I’ll forget you. Why do I need a fool like you?”

He closed the door behind him.

Tarik!

______

She should not have let the memory return. The agony was too intense. It was as if she were living it over again. How many times during the past years had she smothered the thought of that scene and closed that part of her?

But now it might be all right to remember. There were signs he was yielding at last.

He had sent her Selene.

         

She was dreadfully ill, Selene realized even before she opened her eyes.

She barely made it to the basin across the room before she started to throw up.

“What’s wrong?”

Someone was behind her. Layla.

“Answer me.”

Dear God, couldn’t the stupid woman see she couldn’t answer her?

Layla was beside her, her arm bracing Selene’s shoulders while she heaved. “It’s all right—I think.”

“It’s not all right. I’m dying.” Her stomach was empty but she was still miserable. She staggered back to the bed and crawled beneath the covers. “Go away.”

“You’re not dying.” Layla was standing by the bed. “I won’t have it.”

She opened her eyes to see Layla frowning down at her. “Go away.”

“You’re not being reasonable. If you’re truly ill, I’m the only one here who can help you. Now be silent while I decide what course to take.”

Selene was too sick to argue. She shut her eyes, trying to fight off the new surge of nausea that was overwhelming her.

Cold water was running down her face and onto the covers.

She gasped, and her eyes flew open to see Layla wielding a sopping-wet cloth with vigorous authority. “You’re drowning me.”

Layla scowled. “Well, it was all I could think of to do. I told you I wasn’t good at this sort of thing.”

“You’re right.”

“And you’re not supposed to be ill. I hadn’t planned—Why are you?”

It wasn’t enough that she was sick, but this heartless woman expected her to make apologies for it. “It’s probably from being in the same chamber with you,” she said through her teeth.

“I don’t think so. Do you hurt anywhere?”

“No.” She huddled beneath the covers. “I don’t want to talk.”

“We must find out the problem. Did the beef from supper disagree with you?”

“Get that cloth away from my face or I’ll throw it at you.”

“Very well. It doesn’t seem to be doing much good anyway. I’ve always suspected bathing brows is much overrated.”

“I’m going to try to go back to sleep. Leave me alone.”

“I suppose that would be all right.” Layla dropped down in the chair. “But I’ll wake you if the sleep appears too deep.”

Probably with another ice-water dousing. “If you do, I may throttle you.”

“Ungrateful wretch.” But the gentleness with which she straightened Selene’s covers belied the roughness of her tone. “Rest. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

         

The nausea was gone when Selene opened her eyes again.

“Better?” Layla asked. “Can you eat?”

She was still too befogged from sleep to think. “I don’t know.”

“You should try. It’s afternoon. You’ve slept half the day away.”

She
was
hungry, she realized with amazement. All trace of illness had vanished and she felt wonderfully well. It was as if that sickness of the morning had never been.

Morning sickness.

Mother of God.

“You’re ill again,” Layla sighed. “Do you need the basin?”

“No,” she whispered. “I feel fine.”

“You’ve turned pale.” She frowned. “Talk to me or, by God, I swear I’ll bathe your face again.”

“I’m with child.”

“What?”

Selene felt as stunned as Layla looked. “My flux is very late, and this sickness is like the one my sister went through during her early months.”

“You’re sure?”

She was sure. How strange and wonderful that she was this certain Kadar’s child was growing within her. “I didn’t want to believe it. I refused to think about it.”

“You don’t want this child?”

“Of course I want it.” The answer came with an instant fierceness that surprised her.

Layla held up her hand. “Don’t attack me. It’s a reasonable question. You said you didn’t want to believe it, and neither you nor your bastard would have an easy time of it in this world.”

“I know that.” But she didn’t want to be reasonable. She was feeling soft and mellow as warm honey. She had never dreamed it would be like this. Where had all the fear and panic gone? A child was inconvenient, even a danger. None of that seemed to matter. “Do you think that I’d let my child be called a bastard?”

“How will you prevent it?”

“I’ll wed Kadar.” She sat up and swung her feet to the floor. “It’s not as if he would not wed me to protect our child.”

“And then?”

“I’ll return to Montdhu as I intended.” She went to the basin and rinsed out her mouth. Sweet Mary, it tasted foul. “Call Mario.

I need a bath and a meal before we start out.”

“And where are we going?”

“To Rome. You’re going to take me to Tarik’s house.”

“Am I?”

“Or I’ll go looking for it myself.” Selene looked at Layla over her shoulder. “I’ll certainly not stay here, and I don’t believe you’ll let me go alone, if you think Tarik sent me to you.”

“Very wise. I would not.” She frowned. “Though things are not going as I would have hoped. I never counted on the child.”

“Neither did I.” But it was here, and the knowledge gave her a buoyant feeling she had never experienced before. The exuberance might not last, fear and depression might soon intrude, but now she would ride the crest. “We must make the best of it.”

Layla smiled faintly as her gaze rested on Selene’s radiant face. “Yes, we can try to do that.” She turned away. “Very well, but we’ll take Haroun and Antonio.”

“I don’t want Antonio.”

“Because he’s my man? You’ll take him anyway. Don’t worry, I’ll have him stay out of sight as much as possible. But I won’t start this journey without a guard to stand watch.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Nasim is no fool. He will be moving.”

SIENBARA

“Genoa,” Balkir said. “Tarik has a ship there. We’ve questioned everyone in the castle and village. It has to be Genoa.”

“It’s too obvious.” Nasim frowned. “Too easy. Tarik is a deceptive man.”

“Should I return and try again?”

“Fool. What if it is Genoa? Should we let them sail halfway to Scotland before we’re able to overtake them?”

“But you said that—”

“We try Genoa.” He frowned. “The woman may have departed here before Tarik and Kadar. It could be that they sought to confuse me by going in different directions. Now, that’s a ploy worthy of Kadar and Tarik.”

“Then we leave Sienbara at once?”

He nodded curtly as he mounted his horse. “At once.”

         

“Not again,” Layla sighed as she fell to her knees on the ground beside Selene. “This is the third time since we started our journey. When does this morning illness end? It’s most distasteful.”

“I can’t help it.” She threw up again. “And you’re without wits, woman, to think that I can. I’d wager you threw up many times in the House of Death.”

“Only once. The beating I received for showing emotion made me hesitate to give in to weakness again.”

“Well, I’m not sorry for you.” But she was, and it only made her angrier. “Go back to your pallet and leave me alone.”

“You’d only keep me awake with your retching here in the bushes.” She made a face. “And it annoys me to have Haroun look at me with those big reproachful eyes. You’ve not seen fit to tell him of your affliction, and he thinks me a cruel and unnatural woman to ignore you.”

“I don’t care. He’s right. You are a cruel and unnatural woman.”

“Here.” Layla thrust a damp cloth into her hand. “Bathe your own forehead, since you’re not happy with my tending.”

“Tending?”

“I’m trying. Don’t I twiddle my thumbs, letting you sleep the morning away after you wake me at dawn with this nonsense?”

“It’s not nonsense. Many women have this affliction when they’re with child. And I never asked you to—”

“Shh, I know.” She gently brushed the hair back from Selene’s temple. “It’s a wonder that women have more than one child if this is the way of it.”

“Don’t be foolish. How would they keep from it?”

“There are ways.”

The illness was subsiding at last. She sat back on her heels and drew a deep breath. “You’ve never had a child?”

Layla shook her head. “And probably just as well. As you see, I’m not overgentle.”

Selene sensed a hint of pain beneath the carelessness of Layla’s words and said impulsively, “I think you’d be a very good mother.”

Layla’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You would,” Selene insisted. “You’re clever and strong and protective.”

“That would make me a good father, not a good mother,” Layla said dryly.

“Well, who is to say there must be softness. Besides, I believe you could be . . . gentle.”

“You near choked on that word.” Layla took the wet cloth and dabbed awkwardly at Selene’s lips. “And you clearly must be dizzy from your sickness. It’s time you went back to your pallet.”

“I’m not dizzy.” But she was weak as the babe she was carrying, she realized as she struggled to her feet. “I don’t have to sleep all morning. Just a small nap. I know we should not linger.”

Layla nodded as she stood up. “No, there are too many people at Sienbara who knew Tarik had a ship in Genoa. Nasim would have little trouble finding someone who would tell him about it, and Genoa is a small place.”

“But we’re no longer in Genoa.”

“But Mario is still there, and he has a tongue as loose as his wits.”

“You think he would tell him our direction?”

“With a little persuasion.” She shrugged. “Or maybe not so little.”

“Then we should leave at once.”

“And have you fall off your horse and break something? Then we would truly have a problem. A few hours will make no difference. We’ll make it up by stopping later for the night.”

Selene was not so sure it wouldn’t make a difference. “Just a small nap.”

“We will see.” She grasped Selene’s arm and gently pushed her toward the fire. “Leave it to me. I feel the need of a nap myself after witnessing the disgusting spectacle you made of yourself.”

“I did not ask—” Protests to Layla were like rain beating against a stone wall. Besides, she was beginning to learn she should pay more attention to Layla’s actions than anything she said. Her words might be harsh and completely lacking in sympathy, but during the last days she had been constantly at her side, unobtrusively watching, helping. Perhaps Layla could be no other way after the life she had lived. Selene could understand the need to build walls. She had erected high ones of her own. “I . . . thank you for trying to help me.”

Layla looked at her in surprise. “Then I’m no longer cruel and unnatural?”

“Yes, but I’ve decided you cannot help it and should be forgiven.” She smiled faintly. “But I give warning I may not feel the same when you rant at me tomorrow morning.”

“Then you should try to control this sickness. It annoys me.”

“Tell that to the babe.” She had reached her pallet and sank to her knees. “I seem to have no control of it. My sister’s illness went away after the fourth month.”

“It should not be so. It’s not fair that women must suffer like this. If I were with child, I’d find a cure that would prevent this idiotic—”

“I’m sure you would.” Selene nestled beneath her blankets and closed her eyes. “By all means, seek out a preventive. But quietly.” She yawned. “Very quietly. I need more sleep.”

“Oh, very well.” She heard Layla nestling into her own blankets across the fire. “But you should not give in to this. It insults our bodies to have to undergo this trial. We should find a way for women not to have to suffer to give birth.”

“Fine, you find a way. I need to nap.”

“So it goes away in four months. What if you have another child? Would you have to go through this again? It would not be—”

“Layla.”

Layla sighed and then fell silent.

Selene was almost asleep when Layla murmured, “We will try herbs. I know a great deal about herbs.”

ROME

         

“VERY PLEASANT, TARIK.” Kadar’s gaze raked the columned stone structure on the hill. Trees bordered the road leading to the impressive cream-colored edifice. To the north of the house Kadar saw the glimmer of a formal pool surrounded by statuary. “A veritable palace. But I’d not choose a place with no fortifications. It’s not safe. Nasim’s men could overrun it in less than a heartbeat.”

“It would take longer than that. I have guards watching all the roads, so we’d be warned long in advance.” Tarik kicked his horse into a trot. “And Nasim cannot attack what he doesn’t know exists.”

“He knew about Sienbara.”

“Because I wanted him to know. I had to throw some bit of knowledge to him to make sure he didn’t look deeper.” He smiled. “I believe you’ll be comfortable here. This villa once belonged to the leman of Pope Giulano. He gifted her with it when she gave birth to his son. I understand Aurelia was a magnificent beauty, and she certainly had remarkable taste. I bought the villa from her son. A most intriguing man. I’ll tell you about him once we’ve settled.”

“I’m not interested in this Pope’s son and I’m not concerned about comfort.” He jerked his head at the coffer tied to the horse ahead. “You know what interests me.”

“Won’t you even let me get within the safety of my walls before you attack me?”

“No. You promised when we reached Rome you’d show me.”

Tarik sighed. “Very well, tonight after we sup.” He held up his hand as Kadar opened his mouth to protest. “Don’t argue. It’s the only victory you’ll wrest from me.”

Kadar knew Tarik well enough to realize that he had dug in his heels and would not be swayed. It was only a few hours. He didn’t know why he’d even attempted to coerce him. He was not usually this impatient.

He did know. He was brimming with frustration and worry about Selene. He could do nothing about that situation but wait, and so he was reaching out to control everything else within his grasp.

“We’ll hear soon.” Tarik’s gaze was on his face. “Antonio will be here within a few days to tell us she’s safely on her way to Montdhu.”

         

After supper, Tarik sent the servants to bed and limped to the corner where he’d set the wooden chest. “Light another candle. If you must see the grail, then you might as well view it clearly.”

Kadar lit another candle from the one on the table. “At last.”

“Sarcasm isn’t necessary. I had to be sure of you.”

“And now you are? I hate to disappoint you, but I’ll not be manipulated by you any more than I will be by Nasim.”

“It’s been taken out of both of our hands.” He set the chest on the table and unlocked it. “Fate sometimes does that. Haven’t you noticed?”

“I’ve noticed you have a tendency to dabble with fate.”

“Actually, I’ve suffered a great deal because I try to keep from dabbling.” He lifted the lid of the chest, removed the statue, and set it aside. “It’s only of late that I’ve grown weary and given in to temptation.” He plucked off the purple silk cloth and opened the golden coffer. “Here is your grail. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Tarik’s tone was almost casual—too casual. Kadar’s eyes narrowed on Tarik’s face, and then he took a step closer and looked down into the box. The candlelight shimmered on the gold object cradled in a nest of velvet.

“It
is
a grail.”

Tarik smiled. “I told you. Now are you not ashamed you were suspicious?”

“No. Considering that forked tongue of yours, I’d be ashamed if I wasn’t suspicious. May I take it out of the box?”

“Of course.”

Kadar carefully lifted the grail and held it under the candlelight. The workmanship was magnificent. Every inch of the gold of the grail was intricately carved with pictorial symbols. Kadar’s finger gently touched one of the pictures. “What is this?”

“It’s the language of my birth. Much more clear and civilized than the script of the Greeks and Romans.”

“I’ve seen it before.”

“I thought as much, when you said the statue was familiar.” He glanced at the statue on the table. “It was to be expected that you’d recognize it. You’re better traveled than most men, and you have a curious mind.”

“Egypt.”

“Yes.”

He looked down at the cup again. “What does it say?”

“It’s a story about a young man and a quest. You’d enjoy it.”

“Then tell it to me.”

“You want stories? How strange.” He smiled. “Nasim would not be interested in stories, only in the power of the cup. Don’t you feel the magic of the grail? Can’t you feel the force of it coursing through you as you hold it in your hands?”

“No.”

Tarik laughed. “Nasim would feel it. He believes in the grail.”

“Then he’s a fool. There’s no magic here.”

“You’ll not be able to convince him. You can never convince men like Nasim they cannot have what they need. And sometimes it’s best not to try.”

“Tell me what’s written on the cup.”

“Impatience again. It’s a long tale, but I’ll tell you what is written here.” He tilted the cup so that Kadar could see the inscription engraved on the inside of the rim. “It says,
Protect.
That’s what I’ve been doing. But I’m tired now. I deserve to rest. It’s time someone else took over the task.”

“Me?”

Tarik nodded.

“You chose the wrong man. I’ve no desire to protect your grail.

It means nothing to me.”

“But it will. Sit down.” He sat down himself and stretched out his crippled foot. “Take your time. You wanted to see the grail, now examine it at your leisure.”

Kadar seated himself and slowly turned to the grail. “There’s something else on the other side of the cup.”

“Eshe.”

Kadar looked at him inquiringly.

“I believe you’ve digested enough for now. I’ve always found it’s best to go very slowly when the tale is so long and involved.”

“I want to hear it now.”

Tarik shook his head. “Hold it, become accustomed to it. Then I’ll put it back in the coffer until I think the time is right.”

Kadar’s grasp clenched on the cup. “I’ve no liking for this teasing. What game is this you’re playing with me, Tarik?”

“One where I make the rules.” Tarik leaned back in his chair. “Enough talk of the grail. Now relax and I’ll tell you about the man who sold me this fine villa.”

         

Selene spat out the leaf. “I’ll eat no more. Do you hear me? It tastes terrible.”

“Maybe you’ve had enough of it.” Layla tucked the last of the leaves into the pouch at her waist and kicked her horse into a trot. “We’ll see tomorrow.”

“We’ve tried rosemary, thyme, the leaves of the bush with that red berry. When will we stop?”

“When you’re no longer ill.”

“It’s bad enough to be ill, but it’s worse to have to eat these foul plants you keep stuffing in me.”

“Stop complaining. This is a worthwhile thing we do. Not only for you but for other women.”

“We? I’m the one who’s suffering.”

“I would do it, if I were with child.”

The exasperating thing was that Selene knew she spoke the truth. Layla was utterly relentless and completely convinced what she was doing was right. It was difficult to refuse someone with that extreme dedication. She could only hope that either her illness would naturally pass or Layla would find something she thought had allayed it. “If you give me one more nasty-tasting leaf to eat, I may not survive to bear—” She could see Layla was not listening.

Her expression was abstracted, her brow knitted in thought. “If it doesn’t work, tomorrow we will try basil.”

Selene wanted to knock the obstinate woman off her horse. She muttered an imprecation and spurred ahead to where Haroun and Antonio were riding.

Haroun fell back to ride beside her. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said curtly. “Why should anything be wrong?”

“You seem . . . disturbed. And you were ill again this morning.” He moistened his lips. “It is not a good thing to be ill every day. I’ve been worried.”

“It’s not good, but there’s nothing to be worried about.”

“Is it the fever?”

She shook her head.

“We should stop and let you recover.”

Why not tell him? She couldn’t keep it secret for long when he would see her every day. “It may take many months for me to recover from this affliction. I’m with child, Haroun.”

He smiled brilliantly. “I wondered . . . I remember Lady Thea was so taken. That’s why we’re going to seek out Lord Kadar?”

“Yes.”

“It is wise. He is honorable, and you and the babe will be safe with him.”

“I’m not going to put myself in his care. After we wed, I return to Montdhu.”

He nodded vigorously. “Until it’s safe for him to come to you. This land is not the place for you to be. Don’t worry, I will care for you in his place.”

“I don’t need you to—” She couldn’t finish. Haroun was so happy and earnest. If his attitude was annoying, it was also sweet. She was most moved. “I thank you for your concern. I’ll try not to be a burden.” Good God, that last sentence almost turned her stomach again. “I know I will be safe with you, Haroun.”

He flushed, and his smile became even more radiant. “You will. I promise. I’ll take care of you. You’ll be safe, Lady Selene.”

“The boy is hovering around you like a bee at a honeycomb,” Layla said in a low voice as she watched Haroun make up Selene’s pallet that night. “You told him?”

Selene nodded. “He had to know sometime. He was concerned.”

“We should have told him before. He seems a good enough lad.”

High praise from Layla. Selene smiled. “Very good.”

“But his fussing is going to annoy you.”

“Probably.” But not as it would have once, she realized. It was as if the knowledge of the child had softened and dulled all the sharp edges. She seemed to think more clearly, react less impulsively.

“You’re feeling well tonight.” Layla was studying her.

She smiled. “You didn’t force any herbs on me this evening.”

“Tomorrow. It’s not always good to mix.” She shook her head. “No, it’s something else.”

Hope. The thought came out of nowhere. How odd. Hope had always been a rarity in her life. She had been too often disappointed. You took action to achieve your needs; you didn’t hope for them. Yet it was hope stirring within her now. It had been growing day by day on their journey. The child?

“I feel . . .” She couldn’t explain what she didn’t understand herself. “I feel as if everything is going to be all right.”

“Perhaps it will.”

She made a face. “Or perhaps this contentment is God’s way of protecting babes.”

“It’s possible. It’s certainly brought a change in you. You’ve not even mentioned Tarik or the grail since you found you were with child.”

It had not seemed important. Only getting to Kadar and the reality of the child was of any significance. “Kadar says when I fix my mind on something, I can’t see anything else. I suppose he’s right.”

“He appears to know you very well.”

“Yes.” All those hours and days and years together. “How long before we arrive in Rome?”

“Three days.”

In three days she would see Kadar again. Three days and he would know about the child. Not that it would change things, but she would see his face and it would be—

“Sweet Mary, are you ill again?”

Her startled gaze flew to Layla’s face. “Why would you think that?”

“You have a most asinine and befuddled expression.”

Selene frowned. “I do not. I was merely—” She stopped as she realized Layla was smiling. “Your humor is unkind.”

“Humor is humor. Kind or unkind, it’s our salvation. Become accustomed to my roughness. I can be no other way.” She looked into the fire. “Will you stay with him?”

“No.”

“Why not? A blind woman could see you have a fondness for him.”

“Yes.”

“But you’re fighting it.”

“No, I’m done with fighting it. But that doesn’t mean I should stay with him. It probably means I should not.” She paused. “I thought he was the one person on this earth who would never lie to me. But he did.”

“Treachery?”

“Not exactly.”

“We all lie to each other on occasion. To be kind, to be cruel.” She paused. “Just as we lie to ourselves.”

Selene stiffened. “You’re saying I lie to myself?”

“Possibly. You said Tarik told you that you were like me. There’s a part of each of us in the center of our being that remains alone and inviolate. It’s hard for me to let anyone get close to that center, even a loved one. You may be the same.” She lifted her gaze. “If you have reason, leave this Kadar, but don’t lie to yourself to protect that aloneness. Loneliness can be very bitter.”

“I never lie to myself,” Selene said quickly. “And, besides, Tarik said if I stayed with Kadar I’d be a danger to him.”

“Tarik had his own reasons to want you away from him.”

“But I believe this to be true.”

“There are other solutions to danger than running away.” She rolled up in her blanket and closed her eyes. “Think about it.”

“I don’t need to think about it. I’ve made my decision and I’ll not—”

“Go to sleep.” Layla yawned. “I weary of talking to you, and I need my rest. No doubt you’ll wake me early with that hideous retching.”

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