The Sheikh and the Servant (6 page)

Chapter 5

Late
, long after the communal dinner was over and the children were sent to bed, some time even after the warriors retired, the sheikh stalked back toward his tent. He knew he had stayed away longer than needed, but he had feared returning to an empty tent—which just made him angry, so he had ridden his stallion to the storage caves and retrieved some fruit which now filled the bag on his shoulder. Now, he was overtired. With a sigh, he nodded to Rami, on guard outside of his tent, and he stooped through the flap.

Noori was kneeling in his spot just inside the tent flap. Straightening once inside, the tall man stopped abruptly, almost walking right into him. Blinking, he laid a hand on the servant’s shoulder.

At the sheikh’s touch, Noori lifted his eyes. “How may I serve you, Master?”

The sheikh looked down at Noori for some time, unable to reconcile the pounding in his chest with the mix of relief and terror he felt upon seeing the servant here. Slowly, he slid the bag of fruit off his shoulder and held it out.

Noori took the bag willingly, rising to his feet and managing to maintain his balance. He took the fruit to a bowl and rinsed it with water. “Would you like fruit, Master?”

“Yes,” the sheikh rasped quietly, slowly unwrapping his head scarves, watching Noori work. The continued address of “Master” was becoming far too intimate for his comfort. He had not noticed it, not truly, until today he had thought long and hard on Noori’s presence in his life.

Noori sliced the fruit handily, arranging it on a platter and bringing it along with a skin of water to the sheikh’s table. He then moved to help the sheikh undress. “Do you have need of a bath tonight, Master?”

Allowing Noori to remove his outer layers of clothing, the sheikh shook his head while reaching for a piece of fruit, still cool from its storage place in a cave. He bit it neatly in half, catching the dribble of juice with his tongue, and looked up to see Noori watching him. The sheikh ate the other piece of fruit, snagging another and gesturing for Noori to help himself. Then he turned to stretch and started patting his pockets. He would need to read, to find something to calm his pulse, his insane excitement that Noori had chosen of his own free will to stay.

Now distracted by looking for his spectacles, the sheikh walked across the tent to the low table he used as a desk, bending over to search among the papers. With no luck, he harrumphed in annoyance and cast his gaze toward his satchel.

“Your spectacles are on the table near your pallet, sire,” Noori murmured in a low voice. “I cleaned them for you. I hope that was pleasing.”

The sheikh looked over to the pallet, seeing the glasses right away. He walked slowly over to pick them up, holding up the lenses to the light, checking the glass, and then he folded them back up. “I am tired,” he said quietly.

“Do you wish me to read to you, Master?” Noori offered, stepping closer. “Or I can offer a massage if it be your will.”

The sheikh started pulling off his gloves, and he nodded to the leather-bound volume on the table where he had found his spectacles. He removed his boots and laid his robe aside, crawling onto the pallet nude and settling on his side, facing Noori, eyes shuttered as he listened to his warm voice. He found it calming.

The sheikh knew he should have talked with Karam this night to make sure village gossip did not focus on Noori. He resolved to do so tomorrow. It would not do for the odd attraction in his gut and heart to harm Noori’s future with the tribe.

After the servant had paused for some time, the sheikh opened his eyes a bit, blinking. The candlelight caught the shine of metal, and he raised a long arm, reaching out to brush his fingers ever so lightly over the platinum ear cuff that Noori now wore. His fingers lingered a moment, and then he lowered his hand to the book and closed it.

Once Noori crawled into place, the sheikh sighed deeply, eyes already closed as he dropped off to sleep, leaning close to Noori’s body, basking in the warmth.

“Need you anything else, Master?” Noori whispered.

A sigh escaped the sheikh. He would have to deal with this, and now. “Do not address me as Master,” he murmured, his voice coming out more sleepily than he had expected.

Noori was silent, and the sheikh was on the cusp of sleep when he heard:

“Yes, my lord.”

#

Rami
whistled tunelessly as he stood at his post outside the sheikh’s tent. It was early, so the sun was not yet high, and the heat was not bad at all today. When Karam approached, he offered the councilor a small smile. “Our lord is already on his rounds, Karam; you will have to find him elsewhere.”

Karam skidded to a stop in front of the tent. “Good day, Rami. I am actually here to fetch Noori. We’re touring the stores today.”

The warrior blinked. “I have been here since first watch started. Noori has not entered.”

Karam just smiled and brushed past into the tent.

Noori looked up from where he oiled and polished the sheikh’s gloves and belts. A smile spread across his face as he saw his new friend. “Many blessings, Karam. The sheikh is away.” He placed the polishing cloth on the table, rising from his place near the pallet he had shared with his lord the night before.

The councilor smiled and half-bowed in greeting. “Blessed morning to you, Noori. You look quite content this morn.”

“He did not order me to leave,” the slave offered by way of explanation. He flashed another smile as he fit the gloves over a set of wooden forms made to hold their shape. Walking over to Karam, he added, “And he bid me to no longer call him ‘Master’.”

Karam smiled widely and clapped Noori on the shoulder, leaning close to murmur, “I am surprised he tolerated it as long as he did.”

Noori smiled shyly. “I slept well afterward,” he admitted.

“As did our lord. He is in a fine mood today,” Karam said.

“You have spoken to him already?” Noori looked mildly surprised. “He is reticent around me at times. I do not know how to speak with him.”

“Our lord is not one for many words, I have learned. You must learn to watch his actions and demeanor, as well,” Karam shared. “His humor is dry and sharp this morn, and today there is a spring in his step.”

Noori offered Karam a small smile. “As you train me, Karam, could you assist me with learning to read him?”

Karam grinned and clapped his shoulder again. “Come; I want to show you the store houses. The sheikh is visiting the ill and the widowed today, so you will have some time.”

Noori nodded, wiping his hands on his robe as he stepped forward. “Teach me my tasks, Karam. Show me my new life.”

Arm in arm, Karam walked out with his new friend. He paused to offer Rami a short bow. “A blessed day be yours, Rami,” he said, eyes twinkling.

Rami stared at Noori for a long moment and then shook himself to answer Karam’s words. “And to you, Karam… and Noori,” he added, looking at the servant with newfound respect.

Noori nodded to the guard, offering a smile as a token of friendship. “Many blessings,” he greeted in the man’s own language.

He then followed Karam to the stores, where the other man began to show him where everything was located. Karam watched him turn in a circle in the cavern of the large cave, staring wonderingly at the many compartments of different goods. “Our lord is a powerful sheikh, is he not?” he asked.

Karam raised a shoulder. “Power is relative in the desert, Noori. But yes, our lord wields much influence, and many people look to him for leadership. It has been such since his father’s brother stepped down to pursue a religious vocation. Our lord’s father led our people for many years before his death.”

“He is a just and kind lord, yes?” Noori asked, needing to believe that only someone who was good-hearted and generous would purchase him from his previous torment.

Karam smiled reassuringly. “The sheikh is renowned across the desert lands for his integrity and compassion. When his father led the tribe, our lord was the best of his warriors and indeed distinguished himself in battle. But his mother, bless her, influenced him equally toward mercy.”

A fanciful smile spread across Noori’s face. “Then might it be possible that he could come to love me?” His eyes reflected hope in the dim light of the cavern.

Karam’s smile faltered, and he lowered his head, concerned for the small kernel of light that had begun to grow in Noori’s heart. “That, I cannot predict,” he said sadly.

“But he purchased me from the amir. If he did not desire me, would he still have done that?” Noori asked. Then he sighed slightly. “You are right, of course. A kind and just lord would not allow any to languish in misery if he had the means to make them a better life. I understand.”

Karam shifted his feet. “It is much more complex than that, my new friend. Come, sit with me. I will tell you of our lord, though it makes my heart heavy to revisit such dark times.”

Noori leaned against the stone wall as Karam began. “I have been part of our lord’s family since I was a child. An orphan of another tribe, I was taken in and cared for, and for that I shall always serve the sheikh’s family,” he started. “I am a few years the elder of our lord, and so was I chosen as his companion and servant growing up.”

Karam chuckled. “You cannot tell now, of course, but our master is quite the trickster. We were always in trouble, because, of course, I could not let him run off on his adventures alone,” he sighed.

“I remember the days of my youth as well, Karam. I remember finding my way into many troubles which my father had to help me out of. Go on; please tell me more.”

Karam waved a hand. “Those tales are for another time. Just know that he lived life to its fullest, a smile always clear upon his face, his zeal to live infectious.”

A small frown formed on Noori’s face. “Then why is he so serious now? I do not think I have witnessed hardly a smile upon his face since he purchased me.”

“Ah, they are there. As I said, you must learn what to look for. Now his smiles are closely guarded and often reserved for his children,” Karam said. “But you can see them in his eyes, in the set of his shoulders. Responsibility will do that to a man. Crushing responsibility coupled with personal loss.”

“I feel as if I have no right to ask this. But can you please tell me about his loss?” Noori leaned closer.

Karam sighed. “Our lord has a spirit shot with iron, I know, to have survived such losses as his. First, his father was assassinated. In the coup that resulted, his mother was gravely wounded, and his wife was killed. It was only a heavenly blessing that hid sweet Sawsan that night. Still, I feared for our lord’s sanity.”

Noori’s voice held a great sadness. “And Massarah? Where was he?”

Karam’s face dropped, and he was silent for a long moment. When he raised his head, his eyes were watery. “Our master consolidated his hold on the region and life settled down. To his embarrassment, his mother arranged for him to meet the daughter of a minor sheikh. He still needed an heir, after all. I remember him then, incensed, three years having passed since his wife’s death. But still, he obeyed his mother’s wishes.”

Noori reached out a hand, squeezing Karam’s shoulder in consolation. “There is no need to continue if you do not wish to,” he whispered.

Karam patted Noori’s hand. “I believe he truly loved her. She was a simple village girl, loving and forgiving.” He shook his head. “But the heavens bless, and they take away. And so it was. Thaqib died giving birth to Massarah just three years ago.”

Tears dotted Noori’s cheeks, and he wiped at them, offering a watery smile. “Our lord is indeed a strong man; it seems as if the heavens are preparing him for greatness.”

Karam chuckled. “Our lord is the best man I know. I feared for him; he was silent for weeks, although he immediately acknowledged Massarah. But I should have known better than to fear his spirit broken.” Karam shrugged. “So you see, your question is indeed complicated. The sheikh is twice-widowed and a prince of his people, proven time and again in battle. I do not know if he will risk his scarred heart again, for either a wife or a consort.”

“And to a match that not only his people, but the heavens themselves would despise.” Noori’s was rough, but accepting of his fate.

“The sheikh broke with his uncle soon after Thaqib’s death. He said that no power worth his worship would punish one man so. But he encourages the people to worship as they will, and so avoids the censure of the religious sect,” Karam said slowly. “I would not be so quick to see your chances as nonexistent.”

Noori shook his head sorrowfully. “I will not bait him to give his heart again. I would not be the cause of more heartache for such a noble man.”

Karam patted his hand. “You can love him, as I do, as the people do. There is no wrongdoing there. Already your presence cheers him, and even if that is all there ever is, I am eternally grateful for you.”