Perhaps it had been the sight of her naked flesh that had persuaded him. Or perhaps something smaller than that. The way she had cocked her head at him or the way she had sighed demurely when his breath had begun to quicken. Bandir was a man, after all, and Kiya had certainly had some practice playing roles. Whatever it had been, the Chief had trusted her feigned desire for him enough to allow her to ‘purify herself’ at the well.
She wrapped his headdress about her naked body and explained that she wouldn’t be long. Then she exited the tent and walked in the direction of the well. Scattered about the camp were a hundred men lying upon mats, most of them already asleep. She hiked up her covering, pretending to be in a hurry to relieve herself, then slipped behind a bush near the well.
Behind that bush was another bush. Beyond that the open desert.
She kept walking.
She was almost out of earshot when she ran into a large boulder. A large, breathing boulder, with ripples of stony flesh.
‘They will notice your absence soon,’ Tahar whispered. He was placing the horse’s reins in her hands. ‘I will distract them for as long as I can. The River is only a day’s journey to the east of here. Do you see that star?’
It was him. Him, him, him. He had come for her. He was not going to sell her—no matter what the price. He was going to save her after all.
‘Hathor, do you see the star?’ he repeated.
He was pointing to a large bright star above the eastern horizon.
‘If you follow it faithfully by morning you will see a single tall peak. From the top of that peak you will see the River...and the Isle of Abu.’
She stared at him, unable to speak.
‘You will also see if they have followed you. If they have not, you may stop running.’
‘You are not coming with me?’
‘I must stay and try to prevent them from following you.’
He is not coming with me. ‘But how will you stop them?’
Tahar pointed to the golden necklaces around his neck and smiled. ‘Do not worry—I have a plan. One of my tribesmen is here and will help me. Already he is riding south, creating a false trail.’ Tahar sobered. ‘There is a blade in the saddle, and plenty of grain—your grain.’
My grain. She could not believe it. He was returning her grain to her. There was still enough to see her through the season.
‘I don’t understand—’
‘Go now, Hathor. You must fly. Go to the Isle of Abu. You will be safe there.’
With an ease that exposed his strength, Tahar lifted her and set her atop Meemoo. He let his hands linger on her waist for a moment, then shook his head.
‘What about your boat? The deal you made with the Chief—?’
‘I made no deal. And I no longer wish for a boat.’
Kiya could not believe it. Her dream was coming true—she was being set free—so why did it feel as if her hopes were dying?
‘If you no longer wish for a boat, then what do you wish for, Tahar?’ she asked suddenly.
‘I wish for you to be free from the clutches of such an evil man. I wish for you to have a better life. You have made my life better than you will ever know.’
The moon had not yet risen, but through the darkness Kiya thought she could see a sheen in Tahar’s eyes.
‘Now, go—there is no time to lose,’ he said, and he smacked Meemoo on the flank.
And just like that she was free.