Last snippet of chapter 3, from Sultana: The Bride Price Harun peered past the dead man’s shoulder and looked down at Jazirah. “I warned them all of the consequences if even one of them touched you. This fool did not listen. He paid for his stupidity with his life.” He twisted and wrenched a curved dagger from the base of his victim’s skull. The body slid to the floor, where the convulsions ceased. Harun gripped the khanjar, mired in gore and perhaps as long as her forearm, by the bone hilt. He bent and wiped the bloodied blade on a cloth spattered with grease stains, which he discarded next to the motionless figure. Harun peered at the pool forming beneath the head and shifted his stance as the blood edged toward his leather boot. He stepped over the body and approached Jazirah, a final command issued to the guard at the doorway. “See to the removal. Send a eunuch to cleanse this filth away.” The three remaining men rushed forward and bore the murdered sentry away. Harun crouched over Jazirah, hair falling over green eyes as he leaned toward her. He stank of onions and garlic. Her mouth might have watered at the evidence of flavorful food she had not tasted in weeks, if his ruthlessness had not shocked her. A slow smile from him softened features she detested. He asked, “Are you injured?” She flicked her tongue at the corner of her lips and instantly drew his stare to her mouth. She whispered, “I’m not hurt.” After two deep, calming breaths, she forced a measure of steely resolve into her voice. “He did not frighten me.” “Do you see how I would kill for you, if only you would be mine?” Harun was a foul murderer. He had done her no special service by dispatching one of his men. He relished the act and the terror he inspired in others. With a shudder, her gape strayed to the dagger he still brandished. “You need no excuses, including defense of me, to act according to your nature—” He bared his teeth in a vicious snarl and reached for her. She yelped and quaked. “Don’t!” With the stained tip of his forefinger, he lifted her chin. Tremors coursed through her limbs. A gentle touch from this brutal man terrified her more than his coldblooded method of dispatching one of his subordinates. “I have told you before, I would never harm you. Whatever you think of me, I would not do it.” She was not so desperate as to believe him. Like her father, Jazirah despised liars. “You’ve hurt Lubna! You used and discarded her when you no longer wanted her body. When you discovered she carried your child, you raped and battered her. How could I ever trust you?” He stroked her jawline, his breathing rapid. “You are pure, not like Lubna. If you would only come to me, I would keep you safe. I tired of whores’ tricks from your slave. Where is she these days? Have her exertions of late worn her out?” “Lubna has the same malady my father suffers! What are these exertions?” He cupped her flesh and sighed. “So sweet, so fair. How could I ever want her when I could have you?” She could not correct him for he continued, “Most of my men have had your slave in the last weeks. I wonder what promises she extracted from them after she spread her legs. She is like most whores, always desiring something. Thinks she can get it too.” Jazirah recoiled. What had Lubna done for their sakes? He asked, “Why did you seek me now? Are you ready to give me what I want most?” His black brows knitted together. Vanity would not allow him to consider whether she held any other purpose. She blurted out, “My father needs a doctor!” His hand fell away. He stood towering over her in silence and sheathed his weapon. Her gaze darted between it and his expressionless face. She heaved a ragged breath. Her stomach pitched at the thought of pleading with him, but if he required it, humbling herself would be the least of her problems. For her father’s sake, she would do anything. “Harun, I beg you! He is so frail. At any day now, he could draw his last breath and I cannot bear to lose him. I will do whatsoever you ask… even… I would give myself to you if only he might live!” The moment the words issued from her lips, Jazirah clamped her hand over her mouth as if doing so could alter her speech. Then her fingers slipped. She had vowed to do anything for her father and she meant to keep the oath. What did her virginity matter? If she exchanged brief pain for the suffering of her father, the sacrifice would be well worth the shame of offering herself to an unworthy man who was not her husband. Without the prospect of marital joy, what difference would it make to her future if she submitted to Harun now? She would not gain personally, but her father and Lubna might. Harun said nothing, only stared at her. Then he bent and offered his hand. She hesitated for the space of two breaths before she pressed her fingers against his palm. He hauled her to her feet. The instant she stood upright, he released her and bowed. She stared at his exposed neck and wished she had the courage or skill to stab him just there. “Did you hear me? Harun, this is my solemn vow and I will hold to it, if you’ll agree to send for a doctor. Please! Say something. Just give me a sign of your pledge!” He straightened and gave her a brusque nod. “Your father and Lubna will have a doctor’s care now. I want Prince Ismail to live long enough for the day when you are mine. You will give me what I want, Jazirah. You will be my wife.”
Posted on: Wed, 18 Sep 2013 17:49:04 +0000
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