Desert Prince Page 5

  Fearing Julian might make another attempt to contact Bastet if she did not meet him, Sabinah had decided to take her place. She must warn him of the danger. Wishing she could see better in the darkness, she leaned against the wall.

  Perhaps he had not come.

  She froze when she heard movement beside her, and she was pulled into strong arms. Struggling, she tried to wriggle free, but a deep voice calmed her.

  “I knew you would not disappoint me, Bastet.”

  “Julian.”

  “It is I.”

  Sabinah knew she should explain at once that she was not Bastet, but he took her face between his hands and touched his cheek to hers. “A few weeks ago I saw you from a distance, but I dared not approach you. I saw at that time you had grown even more beautiful.”

  “Julian, you must not—”

  His mouth swept down on hers, and he pulled her closer to his body. Sabinah felt her heart thundering, and her knees went weak. The kiss was tender, long, and drugging, and she was caught up in the wonder of it. It did not matter that Julian thought he was kissing Bastet; it only mattered that she would have this moment to remember for the rest of her life.

  Tonight she would steal a little happiness for herself.

  Julian broke off the kiss, but he still held her. “I have long dreamed of touching my mouth again to those beautiful lips.”

  His hands tightened about her waist, and he pulled her solidly against him. Sabinah felt the swell of his body and a sharp, newfound longing shook her.

  “Your lips are sweeter than before,” he whispered into her hair. “Just one more kiss to take away the horror of this day.”

  Sabinah knew she must tell him the truth, and she pulled away, placing a hand over his mouth, feeling him kiss her palm. “Julian, I am not Bastet.”

  He took a quick step backward. “Then who plays this trick on me?”

  “It is I, Sabinah.”

  He sounded startled. “Little Sunshine?”

  “I came to tell you—”

  “By the gods, Sabinah, you are but a child. Forgive me for what I did to you. I mistook you for Bastet.”

  “I am not a child,” she said, hurt because Julian felt the need to apologize for a moment that had been so beautiful to her. “I am fifteen summers.”

  “Nay, little one,” he said, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. “We both know you are the same age as my young sister, and she is but fourteen.” He took another step away to distance himself from her. “Why did Bastet not come?”

  “I did not tell Bastet you wanted her to meet you.”

  He seemed to stiffen. “Why is that?”

  “I … my stepsister … Bastet is … she is … entertaining a Roman she hopes to marry.”

  There, she had said it!

  Julian was quiet for a long moment. “She always detested Romans and told me so on several occasions.”

  Sabinah could not bring herself to tell him how Bastet had changed. “What I say is true, Julian. You must believe me.”

  “Why did you not tell me this morning?”

  “I was not aware of it myself until this afternoon. Please, for your safety, do not seek out Bastet.”

  “You are not trying to trick me, are you?”

  She reached out into the darkness until she found his hand. Taking it in both of hers, she said with feeling, “Julian, you must not come here again—it is too dangerous. I beseech you—believe me.”

  His hand closed around one of hers. “It is difficult to believe Bastet would betray me.”

  Sabinah’s eyes filled with tears, and she was glad it was dark so he would not know she wept. “You do not truly know my stepsister. Do not trust her, Julian. It could mean your death.”

  He touched her face and felt her tears. “Do you weep for me, Sunshine?”

  The pain in his voice was so deep and disturbing that she could not stem the flow of tears.

  “I cry for the loss your entire family must feel. Only today did I hear about Lady Larania’s death.” She touched his face. “I am so sorry. She was a wondrous lady. Everyone loved her,” she said, brushing away her tears.

  There was gentleness in his voice. “You have a kind heart, Sunshine. I have always known this.”

  “You must not linger any longer, Julian. You could be discovered at any moment.”

  He yanked her into his arms. “If it was not so dark, I could read the truth in your eyes. Tell me why I should believe you.”

  “You have to—you have enemies here. You should leave at once.”

  He seemed reluctant to release her. “I have few friends these days, Sunshine. Therefore, I shall treasure your friendship.”

  They both heard footsteps in the distance.

  “Please go!” she urged.

  She felt his fingers leave hers, and she made a daring move, not knowing if she would ever see him again. She pressed her lips against his cheek, but he had turned his face, and their mouths met. She heard him gasp, and for the briefest moment, he pulled her to him.

  Tearing his mouth from hers, he roughly shoved her away. But his tone was gentle. “Grow up, Sunshine, before you tempt a man.”

  “You are not yet a man,” she protested, her throat contracting with emotion.

  His hand ran down the side of her face. “It will be many years before I see you again. By that time some man will have stolen your heart and you will have forgotten me.”

  How could she bear to go years without seeing him, without knowing where he was, or if he was safe?

  “I love you,” she blurted out. When the words were spoken, Sabinah wished she could call them back. Unable to see his face, she imagined he would be frowning.

  “You are young, little one. Your whole life is before you.” With the silence that came from his Badari training, Julian slipped away soundlessly.

  Sabinah leaned against the wall, wiping tears from her eyes. She had the feeling she had seen him for the last time. It was a dangerous path he trod, and there were many who would betray him for the reward.

  With an aching heart, she went back inside the garden and closed the squeaky gate behind her.

  Raindrops pelted Sabinah’s face and lightning streaked across the sky just as her gaze fell on a small statue of Isis. With raindrops running down the face of the statue, it appeared Isis was crying.

  Raucous laughter came from the house. Her stepmother was entertaining again tonight. Sabinah made her way quietly to her own bedchamber, her heart feeling bruised.

  “Come back soon, Julian,” she whispered.

  As Julian rode into the night, his heart was heavy with grief. He dreaded the moment he must tell the family his beloved grandmother had been slain. He remembered her smile, her kindness, and the love he had for her.

  “We should make camp for the night,” Apollodorus suggested. “The horses are tired.”

  As Julian lay upon his blanket gazing at the clear desert sky, he tried not to think of his grandmother—it was too painful. He let his mind dwell on his meeting with Sabinah. “Apollodorus,” he asked, “what would you do if the girl you trusted, and had been fond of, was associating with Romans?”

  “I do not know. What would you do?” he asked, turning the question back to Julian.

  “Sabinah told me I must not trust Bastet and warned that she would betray me.”

  “Then your dilemma, as I see it, is whether you trust the younger sister, or the elder.”

  Julian thought of the sweet-faced young girl who always reminded him of bright sunlight. She was always smiling, her dark eyes sparkling. She was earnest, her demeanor innocent. “I believe I shall trust the younger.”

  “And the elder?”

  Although Bastet was older than Julian, he had long been infatuated by her beauty. Now that he thought about it, he remembered a trick she had had of poking her finger in her eye so it would look as if she were crying. He remembered the way she bent over so he could clearly see her breasts. Bastet had all the arts of allurement, and t
hey seemed practiced, now that he thought about it. “I would not trust her with my life or that of my family.”

  “Then you have your answer.”

  Julian turned over on his side, pondering what had happened between him and Sabinah. She had cried for his grandmother—the tears had been genuine. She had felt pain for his loss. That had been real. The warning she had given him was also heartfelt. He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of her soft lips, and the way they had trembled beneath his. She was pure and innocent, and yet she had stirred him to passion. Her confession of love stayed with him.

  But he was sixteen, and she was a mere child. He tried to dismiss her from his thoughts, but he would always remember she had come to warn him of danger.

  Lost somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, Julian remembered the feel of Sabinah’s sweet mouth.

  Chapter Six

  Egyptian desert

  The sunset burned against the sand, turning it golden in color. The stillness was hardly disturbed by the hoofbeats of two Badarian horses racing smoothly across the desolate expanse. Apollodorus glanced at the young prince, noticing his features were fierce with anger. Sadness weighed heavily on the young man’s shoulders. He had been close to his grandmother, and her death was a devastating blow to him. There were no words to ease Julian’s pain, so Apollodorus said nothing.

  Silently they continued, their powerful horses kicking up sand in their wake. Twilight fell heavily over the land as Julian topped a sand dune and gazed down below. Over a hundred tents dotted the huge gardenlike oasis, but the large red leather tent in the middle was his destination. His spirited mount pulled impatiently at the reins, and Julian had no need to urge the animal forward.

  Once he reached his father’s tent, Julian dismounted before the horse had halted and hurried inside while Apollodorus remained outside to allow the family time to grieve in private.

  Ramtat came from the curtained-off private area, and Julian bowed his head, wishing he did not have to relate the sad news of his grandmother’s death.

  “Your grandmother is not with you?”

  All Julian could do was shake his head.

  Ramtat smiled slightly. “I suppose I will have to go after her myself.”

  “Father, there is great sadness.” Julian quickly told his father what had happened, hardly able to bear it when he saw his father’s dark eyes fill with grief. “She was dead before we even left for Alexandria,” he added.

  Ramtat closed his eyes for the briefest moment as sorrow hit him in the gut. When he opened them, he stared at his son. “How did it happen?”

  Julian choked on his own grief. Despite his resolve to remain strong, his eyes clouded with tears. “Apollodorus discovered that the Romans tortured Grandmother in an attempt to make her reveal the family’s location. She told them nothing.”

  Anger and grief raged inside Ramtat. “What happened to my mother’s body?”

  “Uriah saw her properly entombed.”

  Ramtat placed his hand on his son’s shoulder. “The tribe must be told so they can mourn for her. She was a most beloved princess.”

  “I grieve that she is dead,” Julian said in a voice filled with pain. “But she did die like a princess of the Badari—brave and unyielding.”

  “As we knew she would.” Ramtat searched his son’s face. “There is more you have not told me.”

  Julian took in a deep breath. “Someone told the Romans where to find Grandmother.” Julian met his father’s gaze. “Apollodorus questioned the captain of Grandmother’s guard. The man spoke of overhearing several Romans talking among themselves. It seems a reward was paid to some Egyptian woman for leading Captain Vergilius to Grandmother. The captain did not know her name. Uriah said he would make inquiries.”

  Ramtat slowly shook his head. “Danger walks too close to our family. My mother’s death must be avenged, but now is not the time. The safety of the family must come first. We will leave Egypt with all haste.”

  “I do not want to leave.”

  “Julian, it has already been decided. This family will stay together. I will not have your mother worried about your safety. She has suffered enough, and yet I must add to her sorrow when I tell her about my mother.”

  “Father, I was resigned to go with you before this happened. How can we leave without first punishing the man who killed Grandmother?” Julian laid his hand on his father’s arm. “He is living in Grandmother’s house!”

  “Julian, let it go. Say no more about the matter. Yesterday I received a message from your aunt Thalia. Her swiftest ship, the War Hawk, is at anchor off the shores of Neva Ma’Sud. We leave tomorrow. Octavian will never think to look for us on Bal Forea. And even if he did, the island is too mountainous for Roman troops to gain an advantage there.”

  Julian folded his arms over his broad chest and shook his head. “Do we leave like thieves in the night? I do not fear the Romans.”

  Ramtat felt pride in his son, but fear for him as well. “Speak no more of this.” Ramtat placed his hand on Julian’s shoulder. “It is as it must be.”

  His father now spoke to him as sheik of the Badari, and Julian must obey, although it was difficult to let go of his anger. “If it is within my power, I shall return one day and take up my sword to avenge Grandmother.”

  “It will be my right to avenge my mother, Julian. Do not think because I stay my hand at this time that I shall not strike that man down. The time is not now—but it will come.”

  By now word had reached the Badari of the death of their princess, and many keening voices were raised in grief.

  Ramtat drew in a quivering breath. “I shall need a firm hand to keep my people from gathering and storming Alexandria. They will want revenge, just as we do, my son.”

  “Then let me lead them,” Julian said with feeling. “Captain Vergilius will not be expecting us. We will have the advantage of surprise if we strike quickly!”

  “That is not the way it will be. I do not want to see innocent blood spilled. As you know, many Egyptians would join our fight, and they would be slaughtered by the Romans. I will be obeyed, so calm your anger.”

  Julian could not understand why his father refused to storm Alexandria and take revenge on the Romans.

  But his father’s word was the law.

  Seaport village of Neva Ma’Sud

  Julian watched the crimson sails of the War Hawk unfurl. With wind rippling against the huge emblem of a black hawk, it gave the illusion of a bird in flight. Slowly, the ship moved away from shore. The family usually sailed from Osage when making the voyage to Bal Forea. But when his father had sent men ahead to scout the village, they’d discovered Roman spies had been there, forcing the family to choose Neva Ma’Sud, a small port that few ships frequented because the coast was hazardous. In the past, Julian had been happy to visit his aunt Thalia, who was queen of Bal Forea, but this time he felt like a coward, sneaking out of Egypt, fleeing from the Romans.

  He almost choked on his anger. Why should his family be forced to leave home, and more vexing still, why had his father chosen to run instead of fight?

  Apollodorus stood statue-still, his gaze on the disappearing shoreline. “There will be another day, young prince. Until then, learn the skills that will help you when you return.”

  Julian nodded. “I know this in my head, but my heart is uncertain.”

  Apollodorus nodded at the twelve fierce Badari warriors who gripped the railing—most had never been on a ship before, and it was apparent they were nervous; two of them looked white-faced and ill. “Your people are desert dwellers, yet they trust your father’s word enough to place their lives under his care. Your father is a wise ruler of men. You would do well to look to him for counsel.” He nodded once more at the Badari. “They know this, and so must you.”

  Many things were unclear to Julian. He had the hot blood of a warrior in his veins. His instincts were to fight, to avenge. It was not easy for him to flee. With a heavy sigh, he wondered how many years would p
ass before he could return to Egypt.

  Chapter Seven

  Alexandria, 26 B.C.

  Sabinah was angry as she waited for Isadad to put the finishing touches on her hair. Frowning at her reflection in the beaten brass mirror, she watched her servant twist a lock of hair and secure it with a silver ornament. Already she was late for her stepmother’s banquet, and if she had her way, she would not attend it at all.

  She caught Isadad’s gaze in the mirror. “Do not hurry,” she said glumly. “I am in no mood to socialize with my stepmother’s guests.”

  “Some of the Roman officers are most handsome, are they not?”

  Sabinah twisted around and stared into the dark eyes of the woman who should have known better than to make such an outrageous statement to her. “Why do you say such a thing to me? You know how I feel about Romans and especially Tribune Vergilius, who pesters me every time he sees me.”

  “I merely try to help you make the best of a bad situation. The mistress insists you attend her feasts as a way of thanking the Romans for what they do for this family. ’Tis a pity her guests make you miserable.”

  “There are still many of us in Egypt who blame Rome for the deaths of those we loved and respected. Should I thank them for that?”

  Isadad’s hand fell heavily on Sabinah’s shoulder. “Do not speak so. If anyone overheard, you could be accused of treason. It is whispered that many who have spoken ill of Rome disappear, never to be heard of again.”

  In that moment the door burst open, and Bastet stalked into the chamber, her face twisted with rage. “You insult our guests by lingering over your dressing table. Mother demands you attend her at once.”

  Bastet’s long black hair was worn loose, falling down her back like shimmering silk. Her green gown hugged her breasts and fell past her shapely hips—there was a long slit that showed a fair amount of her legs. Sabinah recognized the sweet scent that clung to Bastet; it was one of her stepmother’s concoctions that was supposed to stir a man’s passion. Sabinah wrinkled her nose. The last thing she would ever want was to stir passion in a Roman. But of late, for a reason Sabinah did not comprehend, she was being showered with attention from the Romans, and Bastet was very displeased.