The Golden Barbarian

  Viane Ben Raschid radiated warmth. Her wide-set dark eyes shone with good humor, and her beautiful features seemed to be lit from within.

  “They call me Tess.” Tess smiled at her. One could not help but smile at Viane. “And I’m sure I would have looked forward to meeting you also had I known you existed. No one had the civility to tell me.”

  Viane’s smiled widened. “You’re very blunt.” She smiled. “Frankness is a wonderful virtue. I am too bound by courtesy to speak as honestly as you do.”

  Tess burst out laughing. “Some people call it rudeness, not honesty.”

  “Oh no.” Viane appeared distressed. “I am the one who was rude. I did not mean to speak without tact. I meant—”

  “I know.” Tess held up her hand to stop Viane’s words. That first strong impression of Viane’s gentle dignity had blinded her to the realization that Galen’s sister was scarcely older than herself. She doubted if the young girl knew the meaning of the word rudeness. “I was jesting. It’s my way.” She glanced at Sacha, who was still staring in bemusement at Viane. “Is that not so, Sacha?”

  “What?” He tore his gaze from Viane’s face. “Yes, you’ve always been cheeky.”

  Tess’s eyes widened in surprise. She had never seen such an expression on Sacha’s face, and Viane’s cheeks had gone scarlet again.

  “Let me make you comfortable.” Viane lowered her lashes, turning quickly away from Sacha. “If my lord Sacha will leave us?”

  Sacha frowned and nodded curtly. “I’ll see you in the morning, Tess.” He turned on his heel and left the chamber.

  Viane breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind him. “Now, you must bathe while I find you something to wear.”

  “I have gowns in my valises.”

  Viane shook her head as she clapped her hands for a servant and moved briskly across the chamber toward an armoire inlaid with mother-of-pearl. “Galen sent word that I should provide you with a few of my garments tonight. Later he wishes to choose things for you himself.”

  The high-necked gown Viane lent Tess was made of a length of white chiffon shot with silver that draped her small form without clinging and was completely unrevealing.

  Galen’s gaze ran over her appraisingly when he entered the chamber that night. “Better than my robe,” he commented shortly. “We’ll attend to the rest of your wardrobe tomorrow.”

  “I’m surprised that you’re bothering with such a small matter. Ladies’ fashions could be of no interest to you.”

  “I’ve always found minor details can suddenly become annoyingly abrasive if left untended.” He smiled faintly. “And my wife’s clothing is of the utmost importance to me.”

  “Even when you hide her away?” Tess asked flippantly.

  “I take care of my own.” He moved across the room to the divan. “And circumstances are different now.”

  “In what way?”

  “We’re not surrounded by my men.” He settled himself on the pillows before the low table that the servants had laid with fine china and jeweled goblets. “There are thick walls around us instead of flimsy cloth.” He stared into her eyes. “I’m very selfish,” he said softly. “I don’t want anyone but me to hear the cries you’ll make.”

  The blood rushed to her cheeks, and she found she couldn’t pull her gaze away from his. “I see,” she said faintly. She knew the primal cries he meant. From childhood on she had heard Pauline and others scream out in the throes of passion. “You may be disappointed. I’ve always thought—it lacks dignity.”

  He burst out laughing. “And you’re so very conscious of appearances.”

  She flushed. “I may be less than womanly at times, but I’m not without dignity.”

  His laughter faded, but a hint of tenderness lingered. “Yes, you have dignity, the very best kind. Not based on pride, but in confidence of what you are.”

  Startled, she asked, “I do?”

  He nodded. “Even when you were a child, I noticed it. Dignity and honor. I knew you would be a woman to trust.”

  She felt a warm, sweet melting deep within her. A woman to trust. She felt as if she had been given a gift of great value. “I thought Viane would be supping with us.”

  He shook his head. “She eats with the women.”

  Tess frowned. “Why?”

  Galen caught the hint of belligerence in her tone and smiled. “Not because I wish it. Viane’s mother raised her in the old ways and traditions. She’s more comfortable eating in her quarters.”

  “Then you should have striven to make her comfortable with the new ways.”

  “It’s a battle I fight every day.”

  “But not in your own palace.”

  “No, I guess not.” His expression was suddenly weary. “I can’t fight every minute of every day.”

  She felt a rush of sympathy that banished her belligerence. She moved toward him across the chamber. “Never mind. I’ll attend to it now that I’m here.”

  He smiled. “I do not doubt it. But please don’t pitch Viane into a bog.”

  “I wouldn’t do such a thing. I like her.” She sat down on the cushions opposite him. “You have very little European furniture in the palace. I thought since you’d spent so much time in Tamrovia, you would have imported—”

  “I spend only as much time as I’m forced to in Tamrovia. This is where I belong.” The words were said simply, but with great conviction. “I take what the El Zalan and I need from other countries and no more.”

  “And you have no need for dining tables?”

  He shook his head. “The floor is better.”

  “Why?”

  “Eating is a natural function, and there’s an easiness and naturalness about sitting close to the earth. Are you not more comfortable sitting there on your silk pillow than occupying those stiff cushioned chairs used in your country?”

  She nodded slowly, as she realized he was right. “You believe life should be simple and natural?”

  “As much as possible. We have enough conflict and tragedies without making the everyday functions of living difficult for ourselves.” He smiled. “Now, eat. You’ve probed enough for now.”

  “You object to questions?”

  “No, it is your right to question.” He poured wine into a bejeweled goblet and handed it to her. “As it is mine to refuse to answer.”

  She took the wine, staring down into its red depths. “I have another question.”

  “Yes?”

  “When you saved Apollo and Daphne, I promised you anything you wanted.” She lifted her gaze to meet his across the table. “When you made your offer to me at the inn, you made no mention of that promise. Why?”

  “For two reasons. First, trust. I wanted you to come to me freely.”

  “And the second?”

  He smiled. “I wanted to save that promise to use at a more propitious time. I wanted to keep you bound to me.”

  The air between them was suddenly charged with sensual awareness. Tess became acutely conscious of the scent of the gardenias in the giant alabaster vase standing in the corner, the softness of the chiffon pressing against her breasts, his intent gaze on her.

  She hurriedly took a sip of wine that flowed warm and heady down her throat. “You’re being very honest with me.”

  “Always.” He studied her face. “Would you like to see Apollo?”

  “Tonight?”

  He shook his head. “Tomorrow. I’ll come for you after I’ve finished with the morning audiences.”

  Come for her? Then he had no intention of staying the night.

  “No.” His gaze was reading her expression. “That was just to let you become accustomed to me in your bed. Now, it’s time for us to be apart for a while.”

  “I don’t understand.” She frowned. “And I’m not sure I like all this dithering about.”

  His eyes twinkled. “I’m not overfond of it either, I assure you. The ‘dithering’ will be brought to an end as soon as possible.” He smiled slowly.
“And then I will spend every night in your bed, and possibly many hours of the day as well.”

  She again felt the curious tingling and sense of breathlessness. She took another sip of wine and nodded briskly. “To get me with child.”

  His expression became guarded as he poured wine into his own goblet. “But of course. Isn’t that the reason you’re here?”

  “I thought Apollo would be at the palace stables.” Tess frowned as she glanced at the pretty white stone house before which Galen and she had stopped after a long ride through the narrow streets of Zalandan. “Couldn’t you have kept him with you?”

  “I could have.” Galen dismounted from Selik and lifted Tess down from her mare. He tossed the reins to Said and took Tess’s arm. “But I decided not to.”

  “Why not? I know he must have annoyed you on the journey to Sedikhan, but you—”

  “He made my life a misery on the journey from Tamrovia,” Galen broke in flatly. “But that’s not why he’s here and not at the palace.” He opened the ornamental iron gate and allowed her to precede him into the garden. “Bringing Daphne and Apollo here seemed to solve several problems. I’m forced to travel extensively, and I couldn’t provide them with the same attention you gave them, and I didn’t wish to cage them in the kennels.” He looked down at her. “I didn’t think you’d want them to exchange one cage for another.”

  “No.” The frown remained on her face. “But I find this unsettling. Whenever I remembered Apollo, I thought of him with you.”

  “You gave them into my care. I had to make decisions as to their welfare.” He propelled her down the path leading around the house. “When I returned to Zalandan, I found a tribal disturbance had broken out in the hills, and one of my chieftains and his wife had been killed. They left behind a fifteen-year-old son. The boy was alone and grieving, so I brought him here and put him to the task of helping me train Apollo and Daphne.”

  “Train?” Her gaze flew to his face. “You tried to train Apollo?”

  He nodded. “We succeeded in training Apollo.”

  “To hunt?”

  “No, that was not his nature. That’s where your father erred. Apollo has no killer instincts. However, he did have the potential to be a great tracker.” He smiled. “Now, Apollo can track man or beast even through desert country.”

  She gazed at him in disbelief. “Apollo?”

  His smile faded. “He couldn’t stay a gamboling pup forever. He wasn’t used cruelly, but he had to fulfill his purpose in life.”

  All these years she had remembered the dog as her awkward, madcap friend. She tried to smile. “And what of Daphne? Have you solved her problem too?”

  He nodded. “She’s not as good a tracker as Apollo, but she likes the trail.” He paused. “And Apollo is a grandfather many times over.”

  “Daphne finally accepted him?”

  “When it was a matter of choice, not force. I’ve found opportunity and choice usually win the day.”

  Opportunity and choice. She suddenly saw the relationship between his behavior with her and his patience with the hounds. “I … see.”

  “No, you don’t. You don’t understand at all. Besides opportunity and choice, the bitch must also be in heat.”

  She was startled by the crudity of his words. “I’m surprised you could not control that element as well,” she said flippantly.

  He smiled. “One must leave something to nature.”

  The sensuality in his smile caused her to glance hurriedly away. She caught sight of the upper part of a house a few streets away that towered grandly over its neighbors. “That’s a fine-looking residence. Who lives there?”

  “Yusef Benardon.”

  “Yusef?” Her gaze flew back to his face. “He has such wealth?”

  He nodded. “His father was one of the richest silk merchants in Zalandan.”

  “Then why was Yusef part of your escort?”

  He shrugged. “Town life becomes dull, and young men often prefer battle to bartering.” He paused before continuing smoothly, “You appear very interested in our Yusef. You find him appealing?”

  “Of course.” She spoke absently, her gaze still on the house. “Who would not? He makes me laugh.”

  “And you find him handsome?”

  “I suppose so.” She thought about it. “The more one is with him, the more comely he seems.”

  His lips tightened. “Perhaps it was a mistake to let you become so accustomed to his presence.” Before she could answer, he pursed his lips and gave a piercing whistle. The sound was met immediately by an uproar of barking, and two huge white flashes bounded around the house toward them.

  Eagerness soared through Tess. Six years …

  “Apollo!” She fell to her knees on the ground, but the borzois ignored her and dashed past her to Galen to give him a frenzied welcome.

  “Down.” Galen held out his hand, and the borzois immediately froze, only their tails waving frantically. Galen’s gaze narrowed on Tess’s disappointed face, and he muttered a low curse. “Don’t look like that. They’re only dogs.”

  “I know.” She smiled tremulously, blinking back the tears. “I shouldn’t have expected them to remember me, but I used to think about them at the convent.… They’ll have to get to know me again.”

  “Time goes on, Tess,” he said gently. “Nothing stands still.”

  She got to her feet and busily dusted off her habit. “They appear to have great affection for you. You must have treated them very well.”

  “For God’s sake, I didn’t set out to rob you of their affection.”

  “No, of course not. I knew them both as pups, and missed all the growing years.” She smiled brightly. “I understand.”

  He muttered something beneath his breath. “But you’re hurting,” he said thickly. “I should have anticipated this.”

  “You’re no seer. You couldn’t be expected to know how dumb animals would react.” She reached out and touched Daphne’s silky coat with a loving hand. “I’m sure I was foolish to—” She broke off as the dogs suddenly tore away from them down the path toward the man approaching them from the house. “Who—?”

  It was Kalim … but not the fierce, stern Kalim she had come to know. He laughed boyishly as the two dogs launched themselves at him in joyous delirium.

  Tess stiffened. “What’s he doing here?”

  “He lives here. This is the house I gave him six years ago when I brought him down from the hills after his father’s death.”

  “That boy was Kalim?” She was astonished at how affectionately he regarded the dogs. “I would never have guessed.”

  “He’s very conscious of his responsibilities. He was forced to become a man before he stopped being a boy.”

  “You like him?”

  He nodded. “And understand him. I was only in my seventeenth year when my father died and I became sheikh of the El Zalan.” He strode down the path toward Kalim. “Coming here was a mistake. Let’s give Kalim our greetings and be gone.”

  The smile lingered on Kalim’s face as he lifted his head to look at Galen. “I thought it must be you. Apollo tore out of the house like a—” He broke off as he caught sight of Tess. His smile vanished, and he bowed formally. “Majira.”

  She felt a chill go through her. “How do you do, Kalim? I must thank you for being so kind to Apollo and Daphne.”

  “No kindness was necessary, Majira. I am fond of them.” He turned back to Galen. “Will you be needing me for the next few days? If not, I thought I’d ride into the hills to visit my great-uncle.”

  “Go, but be careful. A messenger arrived this morning with news of more raids on the Said Ababa border.”

  “I’m always careful.” A warm smile lit his face as he gave the dogs a final pat. “As you’ve taught me to be, Majiron. I’ll bring you back a true report on the raids by the week’s end.” He bowed to each, then hurried up the path to the house.

  Galen watched him with a worried frown. “I don’t like him
going alone.”

  “You’re truly fond of him,” Tess said, amazed.

  “I have emotions,” he said mockingly as he took her arm and guided her through the garden toward the gate. “I have affection for Viane and Kalim and Sacha and many people of whom you have no knowledge.”

  “But Kalim seems …”—she substituted a word for the rude term she meant—“cold.”

  “He’s not cold. You just don’t understand him.”

  “It’s not likely that I will. He resents me.”

  “Yes.”

  She had expected him to deny the charge as Sacha had done. “Why? Because you wed me?”

  “Partly.” He opened the gate. “But principally because you’re of the West.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “He’s been out of Sedikhan on occasion, and he realizes what a pull the West exerts.”

  She frowned in puzzlement. “On you?”

  “No, not on me.” He lifted her onto the sidesaddle. “Before my stepmother died, she arranged a marriage between Kalim and Viane. Their marriage is to take place next summer.”

  “With Viane’s consent?”

  His lips tightened as he mounted Selik. “I would not have sanctioned it otherwise. You persist in thinking me a tyrant. Some of the old ways are best, but I would not cage Viane any more than I would Apollo or Daphne.”

  “Where are we going now?” she asked, trying to keep up with him.

  “Back to the palace,” he said curtly. “I made a mistake, but that doesn’t mean I can’t set it right.”

  The golden palomino mare in the stall stood fifteen hands high and shone creamy gold in the sunlight.

  “Her name is Pavda.” Galen patted the mare’s nose. “She’s been ridden only by the grooms to exercise her. At one time I thought to give her to Viane, but she’s afraid of her.”

  “Afraid of this angel?” Tess moved forward to stand beside Galen. “But why? Look at her eyes. Anyone can see she’s gentle as a lamb.”

  “Tell that to the groom who rides her every morning.”

  “She doesn’t like being cooped up.” She shot him a glance. “I can understand that.”

  “Did I feel a barb hit home?” He made a face. “If you’re in such sympathy with her, then you obviously belong together. I take it you’ll accept Pavda?”