CHAPTER TWO

IT IS SAID among the Bedu that there are ghouls in the desert—shape-shifting demons that assume the guise of creatures, particularly hyenas, and lure unwary travelers into the sands to slay and devour them. Also nasnas, monsters made of half a human head, one leg, and one arm. They hunt people, hopping with great agility. And jinn, some of which are evil spirits, such as marids, who can grant a man’s wishes, yet compel him to do their bidding in devious matters.

It is said that these ghouls and nasnas and jinn prey on the weak, on children, and on women who are dishonorable. Although I wasn’t sure that such creatures truly existed, I sometimes dreamed of them and woke in fear.

The night Nasha left me I dreamed that I was alone with little Rami, wandering in the wastelands of the Nafud, that merciless desert south of Dumah. We were outcasts and without a kingdom to save us, and the gods were too far above in the heavens to hear our cries. Soon our own wailing was overcome by the mocking cry of ghouls hunting us, and it was with these howls in my ear that I awoke, wet with sweat.

It took only a moment to realize that the ghastly wail issued from the halls and not from the spirits of my dreams.

Little Rami slept soundly on the mat next to me, his arms resting above his shaggy head, lost to the world and the sounds of agony.

I sat up, heart pounding, and knew I was hearing my father from a distant room.

I rolled away from my child, sprang to my feet, and raced up the steps and down the hallway, uncaring that I wasn’t properly dressed, for it was too hot to sleep in more than a thin gown.

So distraught was I that I flung the door open without thought of seeking permission to enter.

My gaze went straight to the bed. Nasha lay on her back with her eyes closed and her mouth parted. Her lips had the pallor of burnt myrrh, gray and lifeless. No breath entered her.

My father, unaware of my entry, stood beside the bed with his back to me.

Here was the most powerful Bedu in northern Arabia, for his strength in battle and raids was feared by all tribes. Like all great Bedu he was steeped in honor, which he would defend to the death. Nasha was responsible for a significant portion of that honor.

His first wife, Durrah, who was Maliku’s mother, had been killed in a raid many years earlier. Filled with fury and thirsty for revenge, Rami had crossed the desert alone, walked into the main encampment of the Tayy tribe, and slaughtered their sheikh with a broadsword right before the eyes of the clansmen. So ruthless and bold was his revenge that the Tayy honored him with a hundred camels in addition to the life of their sheikh, of which Rami had been deserving.

Blood was always repaid by blood. An eye for an eye. Clansman for clansman. Only vengeance could restore honor. This or blood money. Or, less commonly, mercy, offered also with blood in a tradition called the Light of Blood.

It was the way of the Bedu. It was the way of the gods. It was the way of my father.

But here in Nasha’s chamber there was no sign of that man.

Rami was dressed only in his long nightshirt, hands tearing at his hair as he sobbed. He raised clenched fists at the ceiling.

“Why?” he demanded.

Tears sprang to my eyes and I wanted to join him in grief, but I could not move, much less raise Nasha from the dead.

He hurled his accusations at the heavens. “Why have you cursed me with this death? I am a beast hunted by the gods for bringing this curse to the sands. I am at the mercy of their vengeance for all of my sins!”

He was heaping shame on himself for allowing Nasha to die in his care.

“You have cursed me with a thousand curses and trampled my heart with the hooves of a hundred thousand camels!”

He grabbed his shirt with both hands and tore it to expose his chest. “I, Rami bin Malik, who wanted only to live in honor, am cursed!”

I was torn between anguish at Nasha’s passing and fear of Rami’s rage.

“Why?” he roared.

“Father…”

He spun to me, face wet with tears. For a moment he looked lost, and then rage darkened his eyes.

“She’s dead!” His trembling finger stretched toward me. “You have killed her!”

“No!” Had he heard of my visit? Surely not.

“You and the whore who was your mother! And Aretas! And all of this cursed desert!”

I could not speak.

He shoved his hand toward Nasha’s body. “Her gods have conspired to ruin me. I curse them all. I curse Dushares and Al-Uzza. I spit on Quam. All have brought me calamity.”

“No, Father… please… I serve you first, before all the gods.”

He stared at me, raging. “Six months! You have been here only six months and already the gods punish me.”

“She was a sister to me!” I said. “I too loved Nasha…”

“Nasha?” His face twisted with rage. “Nasha bewitched me in pleading I take you in. Today I curse Nasha and I curse the daughter who is not my own. Do you know what you have done?”

I was too numb to fully accept the depth of his bitterness. He mourned the threat to his power, not Nasha’s passing?

“Aretas will now betray me. All that I have achieved is now in jeopardy for the pity I have taken on the shamed.”

And so he made it clear. My fear gave way to welling anger and I lost my good sense.

“How dare you?” I did not stop myself. “Your wife lies dead behind you and you think only of your own neck? What kind of honor lies in the chest of a king such as you? It was you who planted your seed in my mother’s womb! I am the fruit of your lust! And now you curse me?”

My words might have been made of stone, for he stood as if struck.

“And you would rule the desert?” I demanded. “Shame on you!”

My father was no king, for no Bedu would submit to a king. Yet by cunning and shrewdness, by noble blood and appointment of the tribal elders, he was as powerful as any king and ruled a kingdom marked not by lines in the sand, but by loyalty of the heart.

His silence emboldened me. “Rami thinks only of his loss. I see Maliku in you.”

“Maliku?”

“Is he not your true son? Is not my son only a bastard in your eyes?”

“Silence!” he thundered.

But I had robbed the worst of his anger. Misery swallowed him as he stared at me.

He staggered to the bed, sank to his knees, and lifted his face to the ceiling, sobbing. I stood behind, my anger gone, cheeks wet with tears.

Slowly his chin came down and he bowed his head, rocking over Nasha’s corpse.

“Father…”

“Leave me now.”

“But I—”

“Leave me!”

Choked with emotion, I took one last look at Nasha’s stiffening form, then rose and walked away. But before I could leave, the door swung open. There in its frame stood Maliku, Rami’s son.

Fear cut through my heart.

Even so early in the day, he was dressed in rich blue with a black headdress, always eager to display his pride and wealth. He had Rami’s face, but he was leaner and his lips thinner over a sparse beard. His eyes were as dark as Rami’s, but I imagined them to be empty wells, offering no life to the thirsty.

He looked past me and studied Nasha’s still form. I saw no regret on his face, only a hint of smug satisfaction.

Maliku’s stare shifted from Nasha and found me. In a sudden show of indignation, his arm lashed out like a viper’s strike. The back of his hand landed a stinging blow to my cheek.

I staggered, biting back the pain.

His lips curled. “This is your doing.”

Neither I nor my father protested his show of disfavor.

“Take your bastard son and offer yourself to the desert,” he said, stepping past me to address our father. “She must leave us. We must place blame for all to see.”

Father pushed himself to his feet, making no haste to respond. Instead, as a man gazing into the abyss of his doom, he stared at Nasha’s body. Maliku was within his rights. But surely he saw my son as a threat to his power, I thought. This was the root of his bitterness.

“Father—”

“Be quiet, Maliku,” Rami said, turning a glare to his son. “Remember whom you speak to!”

Maliku glared, then dipped his head in respect.

Rami paced, gathering his resolve. If Maliku had been younger my father might have punished him outright for his tone, but already Maliku was powerful in the eyes of many. Truly, Rami courted an enemy in his own home.

“Father, if it please you,” Maliku said, growing impatient. “I only say…”

“We will honor Nashquya at the shrine today,” Rami said, cutting him short. “In private. No one must know she has passed. We cannot risk the Thamud learning of this. They are far too eager to challenge me.”

“Indeed.”

“Then you will take ten men, only the most trusted. Seek out the clans west, south, and north. Tell them to return to Dumah immediately. I would have them here in three days.”

I could see Maliku’s mind turning behind his black eyes.

“Three days have passed since they left the great fair,” he said. “It will take more than three days to reach them and return.”

“Do I not know my own desert? It’s our good fortune that many of our tribe are still so close. They will be traveling slowly, fat from the feasts. Take the fastest camels. Let them die reaching the clans if you must. Leave the women and the children in the desert. Return to me in three days’ time with all of the men.”

Father was right. Ordinarily the Kalb would have been spread over a vast desert, each clan to its own grazing lands.

“If it please you, Father, may I ask what is your purpose in this?”

Rami pulled at his beard. “I would have all of the Kalb in Dumah to pay their respects and mourn the passing of their queen.”

“Their queen? The Bedu serve no queen.”

“Today they serve a queen!” Rami thundered, stepping toward Maliku. “Her name is Nashquya and her husband is their sheikh and this is his will!”

“They are Bedu—”

“She is your mother! Have you no heart?”

Maliku’s face darkened.

“I would have my Kalb in Dumah!” Rami said. “To honor my wife!”

Rami stared at Maliku, then turned and walked to the window overlooking Dumah. When he spoke his voice was resolute.

“Bring me all of that might. Bring me twenty thousand Kalb. Bring every man who would save the Kalb from the Thamud jackals who circle to cut me down.”

“You are most wise.” Maliku paused, then glanced at me. “I would only suggest that she too be sent away.”

“You will tell me how to command my daughter?”

Maliku hesitated. “No.”

A moment of laden silence passed between them.

“Leave me,” Rami said.

We both turned to go.

“Not you, Maviah.”

I remained, confused. Maliku cast me a glare, then left the room, not bothering to close the door.

Rami, heavy with thought, turned away from the window. His world had changed this day, in more ways than I could appreciate, surely.

When he finally faced me, his jaw was fixed.

“I see in Maliku a thirst only for power. Jealousy, not nobility, steers his heart. Surely you see it.”

I hesitated but was honest. “I see only what you see.”

“My son is a selfish man who drinks ambition the way his stallions drink the wind at a full gallop.”

I still did not understand why he wanted to speak to me thus, for he rarely uttered a word to me.

“You will remain here in the fortress, beyond the sight of all.”

I bowed my head. “Yes, Father.”

“If there is any trouble, you will seal yourself in the chamber of audience with your son and answer to no one but me. Do you understand?”

“Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

“You will know if it comes. But you must do this. Swear it to me.”

As his daughter I had no choice. “Of course.”

“It is of utmost importance. The fate of all the Kalb may depend upon it.”

He stared at me for a long time, then dismissed me with a nod.

“Leave me then. I would be with my wife.”

I hurried from Nasha’s chamber and returned to my room, barely aware of my surroundings, too stunned to cry.

Little Rami, now awake, lay where I’d left him, staring in wonder at the dawning of another day. He smiled, then squirmed and fussed enough to let me know that he was hungry. Light streamed in from the window, but the room felt cold. So I lit an oil lamp, gathered my son in my arms, and let him suckle.

I could feel my life flowing into him as I stroked his cheek and cherished the heat of his small body against mine. In his world there was no knowledge of death. In mine, it seemed to be all I knew. For my son’s life, I would die.

Then tears came again, silently slipping down my cheeks. I could not stop them.