Lariat of Power
Chapter Nine
Najya assessed the other woman quickly. Sidrah's deep inky black hair was pulled back into a long, thick braid. Her slightly curved nose perfectly set apart her light brown eyes and the delicate roundness of her cheeks only accentuated the beauty of her oval shaped face. Her lips were pressed into a serious line, pulling at the tiny dimple in her chin. Sidrah was just slightly shorter than Najya, who estimated the woman to be at a height of five foot six inches.
When Najya spied Sidrah's fingers toying with the edges of her robes, she realized Sidrah was nervous. Silently, she wondered what Sidrah had to be nervous about. Her future was set. At this point, she was destined to be the wife of the Chieftain unless Ardeth could persuade the Council otherwise.
While Najya took measure of Sidrah, Sidrah was doing the same. Taller, slimmer by just a few pounds, Sidrah was still amazed at the sapphire blue of the Egyptian woman's eyes. Like her friend Sabira, it was a telltale sign that European or American blood flowed through her veins. Her eyes and dark hair emphasized the light caramel of her skin, another trait of her mixed blood. But even that knowledge could not detract from the beauty of the woman's features. Like Sidrah, Najya's face was slightly oval and her lips were also set in a determined line.
Sidrah extended her hand at the same time as Najya. They clasped hands briefly and exchanged polite greetings.
As much as she was curious about the woman who rivaled for the position of the Chieftain's wife, Sidrah could not keep her gaze from drifting to the other side of the tent where Rami and Marid sat with a desolate Nida. She noted momentarily that Kyle had returned to Sabira's side. Preoccupied with the full force of the yearning and renewed sadness that stabbed her heart, she barely registered that Sabira clung to the man in her grief. Although touched by the loss of Saeedah, Sidrah's sadness was selfishly reserved for her own situation and a love that would never be.
As if sensing her thoughts, both Rami and Marid fixed their gazes on her. Humility necessitated she look away, but her heart demanded she take what time she had to look upon the one her heart ached for. Deep in the midst of his hazel eyes, she saw the pain that was kept hidden within his own heart.
Clearing his throat, Marid stood and took a few steps closer to Sidrah. "SamaH ana, for this may not be the time or the place, but it is something that must be settled."
Confusion settled among the occupants of the tent, for all except Sidrah, who knew full well the meaning of the young warrior's statement. Shaking her head in a useless plea, she whispered, "Lâ."
Surprised by the sudden influx of jealousy and animosity she felt from someone within the tent, Najya looked from Marid and Sidrah to Ardeth. He was watching the scene as intently as Marid and Sidrah looked at one another. Something was amiss.
"Why do you not end this sham, Sidrah?" Marid demanded. He was overstepping his place, but he had come to the end of his patience.
"I cannot," she answered simply.
Unshed tears shone in the woman's eyes and despite the fact that this was the person who stood between her and Ardeth's happiness, Najya could not help but feel sympathy for her. The sadness within her rival was all-consuming, something to which Najya could easily relate. It was as she felt when Ardeth had taken his dying breath at Philae. No one should be saddled with that grief for the remainder of their life, and she had the feeling that Sidrah was destined to that fate if she entered into this marriage with Ardeth. Why does she not end this?
"Your answer is not acceptable," Marid chastised.
It was clear Marid's anger was growing and Ardeth did not wish for such a display during this time of grief. "Marid, you must stop..."
"Lâ," Marid barked, his eyes never wavering from Sidrah's. "Do you not wish to know the answer, yâ ra'îs?"
"This is not the time, yâ sâHib," Ardeth answered fiercely. Unsure when Jubran, Hadad, and Qadir would return, he did not wish for them to be a party to this argument. There was enough to deal with – the deaths of their loved ones and the tracking of their murderers. At the moment, his impending marriage was the least of his worries.
"When will it be time?" Marid questioned resolutely. His words were more for Sidrah than Ardeth. "You would willingly destroy the lives of four people to perpetuate your father's quest for power?"
Sidrah's gaze remained steadfast although her desire was to turn and flee. Marid was borderline insubordinate. Did this mean so much to him that he would risk his status for an answer? "Our Chieftain is correct. Although this is not the time, bero, I will answer you. You are wrong about my father. This has nothing to do with power. This marriage is of great magnitude to my family. My future is of utmost importance to them. To break the contract would be to dishonor their wishes. This I cannot do."
Marid's jaw dropped as if in disbelief or perhaps just to voice his outrage. Her future was not the reason behind Ghazi's determination; he was sure of that. Whatever his thoughts, he was not given a chance to voice them.
Nodding curtly as she turned toward Ardeth and Najya, Sidrah said, "I will take my leave now. It was not my intent to cast a shadow on this already solemn day. I wished only to pay my respects to my friends."
With that, she hurried outside, but the fabric of the tent could not disguise the tortured sobs she released when those left inside could no longer see her.
"She is very upset," Nida spoke up. "She should not be alone."
"I will go after her," Sabira insisted as she pulled away from Kyle.
"Lâ," Nida protested kindly. "I will go. You remain here with our guests."
The slightest hint of the smile that played on her sister's mouth let Sabira know how Nida felt about her obvious attraction to Kyle. How it came to be, she could never explain; however, Sabira believed wholeheartedly that one cannot fight fate. She nodded her understanding to Nida and watched her leave the tent in search of Sidrah.
"What was the meaning of that outburst, Marid?" Hamid scolded fatherly. "It was unacceptable..."
Marid wasn't listening. "Obviously my words held no meaning, for nothing has changed." He waved a hand as if to swat away any further reprimands while he stormed from the tent. He needed to expel his anger before his wrath got the better of him.
"I do not understand my son's actions, Ardeth. I beg of you to..."
"The impetuousness of youth," Ardeth commented. His gaze fell upon Najya, momentarily wondering if she could shed light on the situation. That thought would have to wait; he knew how reluctant she was to voice things she acquired by her gifts. "There is something deep between your son and the maiden Sidrah. That is obvious."
"Aiwa," Sabira sighed. "Though neither has dared ever to speak of it, especially now."
Surprised, Rami glanced over at his cousin. "How is it that you know this, cousin? Marid has never confessed such a thing, even to me."
"What is to know?" Sabira questioned. "Just look into their eyes."
~*~
"Sidrah! Please...wait!" Nida called as she ran after her friend. A swift shake of Sidrah's head told Nida she would not be cooperating. She swatted impatiently at an errant lock of hair that fluttered onto her cheek while the chase continued. Sidrah was light on her feet, but Nida was determined and soon caught up with her.
"I only wish to help," Nida assured her.
Slowly, Sidrah turned and faced Nida. Resentment filled her, and like a flash flood, quickly dispelled. Nida was a friend since birth and was offering help in the name of that friendship. The nagging thought that Nida was also of the mind that she should release the bond of the marriage contract plagued Sidrah. That could be the only reason that drove Nida to offer help. Yet, she could not bear ill feelings toward Nida. That was something she reserved for herself. Squaring her shoulders, she raised her head and met Nida's gaze. "You cannot. It is foolish of you to even try."
"You do not love Ardeth," Nida stated. It was not a question; the truth in the declaration was obvious.
"I have never declared such," Sidrah agreed. "That matters not."
"It does to Ardeth," Nida insisted as she leaned back against the corral's fence. Silently she cursed Ghazi. How could any parent force such a situation onto a child he professed to love beyond life itself? Could he not see how tortured she was?
"I cannot go against Abu. I will not disgrace him," Sidrah answered as she joined Nida at the fence.
"You would deny your heart instead?" Nida asked incredulously.
"I will come to love the Chieftain," Sidrah reasoned. She wasn't sure who she was trying to convince more, her friend or herself. That she was even speaking about this with Nida shocked her to her center. "He is an honorable man. No one would pass up the opportunity to be his wife."
Nida nodded. She could not argue with that point. There was not a maiden in all the villages who would refuse the Chieftain. "And what of Marid?"
"Marid has nothing to do with this," she denied fiercely. Still, her eyes searched the compound and her heart gave a lurch when she spied the man in question as he entered the practice arena some distance away. She watched as he stripped down to his tunic and breeches, unsheathed his scimitar, and began his exercises. His movements were swift and sharp, his cries fierce and ugly. Anger spurred him; his actions were those of a man possessed, and Sidrah knew the blame of the betrayal he felt lay within her.
"Nothing?" Nida chided while she, too, studied her cousin. His lithe movements and expertise with the scimitar did little to ease her worry. His thoughts were in a dark place and, therefore, could lead him to lose concentration and injure himself. "If he has nothing to do with it, why do you look as though you have lost all hope?"
Gasping, Sidrah turned to Nida. "Why do you say this?"
Nida frowned and laid a comforting hand on Sidrah's shoulder. "Your feelings are not well hidden, yâ sâHib."
"Do you now possess the powers that are said to belong to the Chieftain's lover?" Sidrah snipped harshly.
"Rudeness does not become you, or our friendship, Sidrah," Nida quietly admonished. "You may speak of Najya any way you choose within the confines of your tent, but show her the respect she deserves as the mara our Chieftain has chosen in front of others. That she is a Priestess should warrant your reverence as well, if you honor the old ways. Her powers are not your concern; however, I suspect your venom is due to wanting something you are being denied."
Sidrah hung her head slightly, reflecting her shame. "I ask only that you do not speak of this again, yâ sâHib."
The pain reflected in Sidrah's eyes nearly brought tears to Nida's. "If that is your wish."
"It is my wish."
~*~
Without ceremony, three warriors entered the tent of Elder Hamid. Each wore bland, expressionless looks on their faces, hiding the inner hell each fought to rise above.
With head held high and eyes unseeing, Jubran announced, "We are ready to ride at your command, yâ ra'îs."
--
SamaH ana -- forgive me
Lâ – no
Abu - father
yâ ra'îs -- my chief
yâ sâHib -- my friend
Aiwa -- yes
nisa – women
