The Treasure

  “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 h
e 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.”

  She had closed her out, Selene realized with frustration. She turned and strode to her own pallet.

  “You look troubled. Do you not feel well?” Haroun asked from his own pallet a few yards away.

  She smiled with an effort as she lay down. “I’m only tired.”

  “We should not force the pace. You need your rest.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do.” She rolled over on her side and closed her eyes. “I’m fine. It will only be another three days.”

  But she wasn’t sure she would be able to survive Haroun’s hovering for those three days without exploding. She should never have told him about the babe.

  “Do you need another blanket?”

  “No, I’m quite warm.”

  “I could stir the fire.”

  She said slowly and carefully, pausing between each word, “I don’t need anything, Haroun.”

  She didn’t know which was worse: Layla, with her relentless determination to use her to better the lot of all women, or Haroun, who wanted to smother her beneath this blanket of cosseting.

  She’d be glad to get to Rome.

  And Kadar.

  Even if she could not stay with him, it would do no harm to imagine his joy when he learned of the child. He had grown up alone in the streets, and a babe, someone of his own, would mean as much to him as to Selene.

  Too much? Would it hurt him when she left with the babe? Dear God, she never wanted to hurt Kadar.

  One step at a time. She would face the consequences later. Now she must only get to Rome and make sure the babe was protected by holy vows from the cruelties of the world.

  “Lady Selene!”

  Haroun.

  His hand was on her shoulder, roughly shaking her.

  “You must wake. We must leave. Nasim—”

  Nasim.

  She was instantly awake and saw Haroun’s anxious face above her.

  “Antonio says there are riders coming down the road.” He pulled her to her feet. “He thinks he recognized Nasim.”

  It was still dark. Only a thread of pale moonlight filtered through the cloud cover. How could Antonio be sure of—

  They couldn’t take the chance. “How far?”

  “I don’t know. Minutes—” He turned away and ran toward the horses and began saddling her mare. Layla had finished saddling her own horse and was leading it toward Selene. “Get on my horse and get out of here,” Layla said curtly. “Hurry.”

  “No, I’ll wait for—”

  “No time. We’ll be right behind you. Would you risk the child?”

  I want that child.

  Terror tore through her. If Nasim
learned she was with child, he would take a boy child, kill a girl. She could not put the babe in danger. She stopped arguing and mounted Layla’s horse. “Where will we meet?”

  Layla pointed to a dense wood in the distance. “It should be easy to hide among the trees.” She struck the horse on the hindquarters and sent it careering off at a dead run.

  Wind stung her cheeks.

  Her clothes pressed close to her body.

  She glanced over her shoulder.

  No one was coming. Where were Layla and—

  Mustn’t panic. It had been only a few minutes.

  Relief poured through her as she caught sight of Layla, Haroun, and Antonio tearing out of the glade.

  She could see no one pursuing them. Perhaps it was all a mistake. Perhaps it was not Nasim.

  And perhaps it was.

  She put spurs to the horse.

  The wood was just ahead.

  Then it was here, around her. Darkness. Shadows. The thick canopy of branches overhead. Safety.

  “Off the horse.” Layla reined in beside her and jumped down. “Give your horse a slap to set him running and hide in the underbrush. He’s coming.”

  “Nasim?” Her gaze flew to the road. Riders thundered toward the wood, and in the lead were Balkir and Nasim.

  She slipped from the saddle and gave her horse a sharp slap. The horse plunged forward into the brush.

  Antonio and Haroun had reined in, and Antonio jumped off his horse. Haroun still sat his horse, looking behind him.

  “For God’s sake, hurry, Haroun,” Selene called frantically as she plunged into the shrubbery.

  “They’re too close.” His face was tight with fear. “They’ll find you. I have to—”

  He kicked his horse into a run.

  Her eyes widened in horror. “Haroun!”

  Layla covered Selene’s mouth as she jerked her down on the ground.

  The riders were upon them.

  Dust. Thunder. The crash of branches.

  Selene could see the hooves fly by only feet from where they lay.

  “There! Ahead!” Balkir’s voice. “The boy!”

  Earth churned as the riders passed the shrubbery where they were hidden.