Firestorm (16 page)

***

The forays the next two days were spent apprehending the rest of the Katebs. After pulling five men to stay behind and guard the oasis each day, Bahir split the rest into two groups. He led one, and a big, bluff, burly Tuaret named Aban ben Farran led the other.

They rode out soon after breakfast and didn't return until sunset. From the extra equs they brought back both days and the look of the booty the animals carried Raina surmised that the expeditions had been productive. Bahir soon apprised her of just that fact on the eve of the second day—they had "punished" all the raiders and could begin the journey to the Barakah Mountains on the morrow.

Teague woke late that first night, took several swallows of water and a few spoonfuls of broth Raina had concocted from dried meat sticks and seasonings, then promptly fell back asleep. She was heartened, however, by the heightened color in his cheeks and the fact that his wounds hadn't festered. Her quick response in cauterizing, cleansing, and applying the healing ointment must have worked. Now, if only the torpine had truly hastened his healing process . . .

He slept most of the next day, waking at intervals only long enough to take more water and broth. The next morning, however, his restless movements woke her. She pushed to one elbow, shoved the hair from her eyes, and glanced over at him. He stared back, quite alert and animated for a man so recently and seriously wounded.

"Good morning, femina."

"Good morning, Tremayne." Raina smiled tentatively, suddenly uncomfortable with him and her newly awakened emotions. "You look well. How do you feel?"

"Much better, thank you." He attempted to roll onto his side and failed. "Well," he admitted wryly, "I feel greatly improved at any rate. Could you help me to sit? I tire of this helpless position on my back."

She looked at him with some misgiving. "I could get you up, but I'm not certain you could remain sitting for very long." Raina glanced about, searching for something to prop him up with, when Bahir strode over.

"Could I perhaps be of assistance, mirah?" he asked.

Raina shot Teague a quick glance. At the Tuaret's admiring term, his mouth had gone tight. "Er, yes, that would be appreciated" she muttered. "Teague, this is Bahir Husam al Nur, the leader of the Tuarets. Bahir," she continued meeting his watchful gaze, "this is my mate, Teague Tremayne."

The amber-eyed nomad nodded. "I am pleased to cross paths with you," he said in the traditional desert greeting.

The monk tersely returned the appropriate response. "And may our paths always be ones of hospitality and friendship, Bahir Husam al Nur."

"What do you wish my help for?" Bahir asked without further preamble.

"To sit for a while. I grow weary of lying flat on my back."

The Tuaret chuckled. "Good. Your healing progresses." He turned strode away, and soon returned with a saddle. "Fetch a blanket to cover this, mirah, and your mate will have the finest back support in the desert."

At his imperious tone, Raina bit back a stinging invective. How dared he order her about! And she was past weary of being addressed as a beautiful possession rather than as the person she was. Yet she also knew to attempt a debate with him over those issues was a lost cause.

In the kingdom of Farsala and especially in the desert, men had total power. It was why she'd left fifteen cycles ago, why she'd dreaded returning. And why she'd finally avenge herself against the two men who symbolized thanks to the pervading customs of the land, her victimization.

"As you wish," Raina bit out the reply, slanting Teague a darkly mutinous look. Bahir's behavior notwithstanding, the monk had better not get the idea that she'd submit to this any longer than it took to free themselves of the Tuaret and his men. Teague's mouth quirked in sympathetic understanding. Then, as if remembering himself, his jaw went taut.

Startled Raina frowned in bemusement and busied herself settling the blanket over the saddle. Once that task was complete, she helped Bahir lift Teague to a sitting position and drag him back to rest upon the upright saddle. "Comfortable?" she asked the monk.

"Quite. My thanks, femina, and"—he looked up at Bahir—"for your assistance as well."

There was a pause. Finally, Bahir glanced from Teague to Raina. "Have you discussed with him the possibility of departing the oasis on the morrow?"

Raina shook her head. "No. Teague just now woke and we were trying to decide how to get him up when you walked over."

Bahir cocked a dark brow. "Well, now seems an appropriate time, mirah."

"Perhaps he'd like a few minutes to clean up first, have a drink of water," she hedged. She needed to talk with Teague alone, fill him in on all she'd told Bahir. The Tuaret leader was too quick and would pick up on any inconsistencies in their stories.

"And perhaps, most of all," Teague drawled irritation threading his voice, "I'd appreciate not being talked about as if I'm not here."

Two pairs of eyes turned to him. Bahir's glinted in amusement. Raina's widened in surprise, then she flushed.

"I'm sorry," she hastened to say. "I didn't mean—"

Teague didn't like how angry and resentful she seemed in the Tuaret's presence. What was there between them? The nomad leader's masculine appreciation of Raina was more than evident. The basis for Raina's reaction, on the other hand he wasn't so sure of.

A strange emotion flared within him. It made him uncomfortable, uneasy. He didn't like the feeling. It smacked too much like possessiveness, like . . . like jealousy!

Heat rose in Teague's face. Jealousy? Jealousy? He'd no claim on Raina, and didn't ever want one. Yet the feeling remained nonetheless, clenching about his gut.

Fool, he silently berated himself. How much are you willing to sacrifice because of this female? How much more than you've already lost?

A fleeting memory of the sand cat's attack slashed through him—a memory of the pain, of the sharp, pungent scent of his blood but even more appallingly, the shock that he should feel the pain, that he should bleed.

Somehow, some way, in the course of the past few weeks, he'd lost his powers. Powers that had taken cycles of grindingly hard work and unstinting, unrelenting discipline to achieve. Powers whose attainment had finally elevated him to a fifth-degree Grandmaster and gained for him, at last, the respect and approval he'd labored so long to secure.

Yet now . . . now his powers were all but gone, eliminated as easily as one snuffs out a candle, leaving only a thin, mocking trail of smoke as feeble reminder of the power and glory that had once been the flame's. Agony seared through Teague. Ah, better never to have gained such powers, never to have felt the soaring, exultant triumph of rebirth and renewal, than to have had them and then squandered them! Squandered them, and all because of his unholy desire for a woman.

What had happened had happened he grimly told himself, and no amount of impotent mourning would bring them back. Only action could do that. And that action, he now knew, was to shut Raina out of his heart and mind as quickly and irrevocably as possible.

She was the cause of it all, or rather, the cause was his weakness in resisting her charms. There was no other explanation. And no other solution.

"An apology isn't necessary." His voice congested with anger and frustration, he forced himself back to the matter at hand. "Just include me from now on, if you will, in whatever plans you two have made."

"Bahir offered to escort us to the Barakah Mountains. He and his men are headed back in that direction themselves."

Teague eyed the other man, weighing the possible cost of taking him up on his offer versus the dearly desired buffer he and his men might place between him and Raina. "A most generous proposition," he slowly replied. "I fear, however, that I'll still not be able to travel on the morrow. Yet it seems unfair to keep you and your men waiting here for my convenience."

The Tuaret smiled and squatted to put them at a more equitable eye level. "We've equs aplenty, thanks to the extra ones we, er, appropriated today from some ill-fated Katebs. It'll be an easy enough task to cut down a few palmas trees and fashion a litter to sling between two equs. Until, of course," he graciously added, "you're in better condition to ride . . ."

The monk considered Bank's offer, and knew it for the practical solution that it was—to many problems. "It sounds reasonable enough. I, too, wish to reach the Barakah Mountains as soon as possible."

"You've pressing business there, then?"

"I already told you we go to visit my family," Raina hurriedly interjected. "Neither Teague nor I have seen them in many cycles. That seems pressing enough to us."

Bahir locked glances. "So you've told me. But I was speaking to your mate, not you."

She glared back at him, but withheld further comment.

Teague watched the interchange, puzzled at Raina's unusual reticence. She wasn't the type to take such overt dominance lightly.

"Well?" the Tuaret asked, casually turning his attention back to Teague. "Is it only family you visit?"

"And why would you have reason to doubt my mate's words?" Teague countered. There was something about the nomad's manner that sent a warning vibrating through him. But since he hadn't been party to most of what had gone on between Bahir and Raina, he knew he had to tread carefully here or risk contradicting what she might already have said. A diversionary offense seemed the best tactic. "Has she done something to raise your suspicions that what she told you isn't true?"

Bahir's mouth twitched. "If I implied such a thing, I beg pardon. I meant no insult to your mate. I but meant to offer what other services you might require in the journey. And, to do that, I needed to know your plans."

Teague smiled benignly. "And you do. If they change in the meantime, I'll be certain to share them with you."

"That is all anyone can ask." Bahir gave Teague a courteous nod. "I'm certain you have things you wish to discuss with your mate. I'll not detain you any longer. But if you would, I'd invite you to our supper this eve. The Katebs recently slaughtered two of the small herd capras they'd stolen from us. We plan a modest feast to make use of their meat."

"A most generous invitation," Teague said, knowing to refuse the offer would be to tender grave insult. "One Raina and I will gladly accept."

"Until this eve, then." Bahir rose and walked away.

Teague waited until he was out of earshot. The rest of the Tuarets, save the guard standing at the edge of the oasis, were bathing at the pool in preparation for breakfast. There was no danger of being overheard by them. "What exactly did you tell him?" He turned back to Raina. "I think it best we both agree upon the same story as soon as possible. The man is no fool."

"No, he isn't." Raina shifted uncomfortably. "I told him little, though, save that we were life mates and were going to visit my family in the Barakah Mountains. You did well in how you handled him."

"He seems inordinately interested in you."

She gave a start. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You said he wanted to give you to one of his men. I think he may want you for himself instead."

"He has a wife."

"And can't men of the desert tribes take more than one wife? It's certainly an accepted practice as far north as the royal city."

Her uneasiness began to grow. "Yes, you know they can. But I don't think . . ."

"Go on," Teague prompted silkily.

"I think his interest was more in the truth of my words, then specifically in me."

"And if it is in you, what will you do?"

She frowned in puzzlement, taken aback. Where was he headed with this? "What do you mean, what will I do? I already told him we were life mates. What more do you want me to do?"

Suddenly, Teague flushed and averted his gaze. "Nothing," he muttered angrily. "I was wrong to press you so. It's none of my concern, nor right, to question what you do with another male. I ... I beg pardon."

His abrupt changes in mood confused Raina. One moment he was cold, withdrawn, then angry, then he acted the possessive man, and then the next . . . ? She pondered that for a moment, the first inklings of his possible motivation slowly permeating her mind. He acted as if ... as if he'd realized he was revealing too much . . . as if he cared.

A curious melting gladness filled Raina. She scooted close and laid a hand on his. "There's no reason to beg pardon, Teague. We are partners. It's good that we're concerned about what may happen to each other."

He glanced up warily, a haunted expression in his eyes. "Is it, Raina? I'm not so certain."

His words gave her pause. There was something, some underlying, unspoken message there. If she dared press further, she risked . . .

Exactly what, did she risk?

Taking her heart in hand, Raina dared words she never thought she'd utter to a man. "I cannot speak for you, but it seems, whether I wish it or not," she forced herself to say before she lost her newly found courage, "I cannot help but care for you. You've saved my life twice now. As much as I distrust and loathe most men, I cannot continue to view you in such a negative light.

Though I find it most unsettling, it is the truth, and I must face it."