After the horses had finished, they tied them up nearby and Tariq removed a small bag from the pack horse. They took seats on rocks near the pool. He removed some packets that included crackers, fruit and nuts, and handed them to her.
“There should be some bottles of water in here. There they are.” Tariq handed one to her. “How are you doing?”
“It must show I’ve not ridden in a long time and even then, not much. Astor’s a nice horse.”
“I trained her myself.”
Did the man’s talents never end? “You did a wonderful job. How much further do we have to go?”
“At least another two hours. For the rest of the way I want you to be sure and stay right behind the pack horse. If you were to stray off the path it could be dangerous. Understood?”
She took a drink of the water. “Yes.”
They finished their meal in silence and as soon as they were finished Tariq took her trash and stuffed it back into the bag. “If you are ready, we should go.”
Laurel joined him at the horses. She winced at the thought of getting on again.
“Do you need help up?”
“No, I’ve got it.”
“Aha, is that newfound confidence I hear?”
“Something like that.” Laurel swung her leg over Astor and groaned.
They continued to travel. Tariq had not exaggerated his description of the landscape. They made one switchback after another, the going becoming harder all the time. When Laurel feared it would never end, they circled a large bolder and below them was a green valley with a stream running through it.
Tariq called over his shoulder, “We have arrived.”
From the sky the village wouldn’t have been visible because it blended in with the mountains and the landscape. The tents were the type with a high center pole and four corner ones, making the canvas look much like a circus tent.
“How did you know where to come?”
Tariq said over his shoulder, “Because in the spring this is where the tribe comes.”
As they rode down there was a sudden shout and people came out of tents and left what they were doing to form a group. A thrill and trepidation raced through her. This was nothing she had any experience with. It was like going back in time.
“Were they expecting us?”
“Word travels even this far into the mountains. My countrymen live simply but they are not ignorant of the world.”
As they rode in, people circled Tariq, trying to touch him. He dismounted and came to help her down. She wobbled and Tariq brought her against him. His warm musk smell surrounded her, making her feel more alive, further aware of his masculinity. She shivered.
“Nothing to fear. They are just excited to see us.”
She stepped away. “I’m not afraid.”
The crowd parted and an elderly man hobbled toward them. He said something in Arabic and bowed his head. Tariq responded then placed a hand on her shoulder as he spoke.
A sound of awe rose from the crowd.
Tariq said to her, “I told them that you are my wife. This is the leader of this tribe. He has welcomed us.” The old man spoke again. Tariq translated. “He says they will have a celebration in honor of our marriage.”
Once again she and Tariq were lying to people. She hated it but there was no way out of it now.
She forced a smile. “Please tell him thank you from me.”
Tariq and the tribal leader lapsed into a discussion. When they had finished, Tariq took Astor’s reins and handed them to a young man standing nearby who already held Turo’s. Tariq then went to the pack horse and removed his medical bag. He returned to her and placing a hand at her waist he directed her toward the leader, who had started walking away.
“My great-aunt is very ill. She is too weak to greet us. He is taking us to her.”
Laurel looked at him. “The one I want to speak to?”
“The very one.”
The leader stopped in front of a tent and nodded before moving on. Tariq held the tent flap back for Laurel to pass.
“You go first. She will not know who I am.”
Tariq preceded her. She entered right behind him. The tent was lit by one large oil lamp hanging from the center pole. On a low bed of pillows lay a shrunken woman. Two women sat on either side of her. Tariq went to her, going down on his knees. He spoke softly then motioned Laurel forward.
“Belica says it is nice to meet the new Princess. She is surprised you are from another culture but wishes you happiness. She is willing to answer your questions.”
“Please tell her it’s nice to meet her as well. That I appreciate her willingness to help.”
Tariq opened his bag. “Before we start the questions I am going to examine her.”
Laurel stood by patiently while Tariq took the woman’s vitals and checked her abdominal area. He soon finished. Over the next few minutes Laurel asked the same questions of Tariq’s aunt as she had of him.
When the woman closed her eyes, Tariq stood and took Laurel’s hand. “That is enough for now.”
They exited the tent. The same young man who had led their horses away waited nearby. He bowed and spoke to Tariq.
“This way. Our tent is ready.” Tariq followed the man.
“Tent? As we are staying together?”
Tariq looked at her. “Remember, we are married.”
She couldn’t think of a time she’d forgotten. “I’m well aware of that.”
They were taken to a large tent off to one side.
“Whose is this? Are we taking someone’s home?” Unease built in Laurel at the thought of sharing such close quarters with Tariq.
The man left them.
Tariq sweep his arm out indicating she should enter. “It was put up just for us when they heard we were coming. We will also hold clinic here.”
Inside the tent looked much as Tariq’s aunt’s had with the exception of the bright multicolored rug completely covering the floor. Piles of large pillows were set in a number of places. Off to the side was a low bed of pillows. Colorful draped material hung from the ceiling around it. The place looked as if the tribe had made an extra effort to make the space special. “I can see they go all out for royalty.”
“This is to honor you. When I have been here before I have had a simple tent or stayed with my aunt.”
Outside her family no one had ever made her feel included. The people of Zentar, even these simple mountain people, had worked their way into her heart. “It is beautiful. Like something out of the Arabian Nights.”
Tariq went to the stack of supplies that had been placed in a corner near the entrance. He picked up her bag, offering it to her. She took it. Again he looked through the supplies and came out with a tube of cream. “You will find a fresh water basin on the other side of the bed.” He gave her the tube. “You must be saddle sore. This will help. Food will be brought to us tonight. I have to go and speak to the leader about the clinic. I will return soon.” Without a backward look, he left her.
Tariq had dreamed more than once of having Laurel to himself and tonight he would. But in those dreams he had her coming to him by choice, not because she had to share the same space with him. He could not go elsewhere to sleep because that would shame her in the eyes of the people. The best he could do was stay on the other side of the tent and pretend she was miles away. But that was never going to happen.
When he had insisted they marry he’d believed it would be no problem for him. He’d had zero personal interest in Laurel. Had not thought it would be an issue or change his life in any way. Nothing could be further from the truth. She had turned his world upside down. Where his life had revolved around his work, now he thought of nothing but Laurel. Surely if he could get her out of his system he could move on. Then he could look into finding someone to replace her, as she had suggested.
None of that solved his current difficulty of sharing a tent for the night with her and keeping his hands to himself. He would make it happen somehow. There was a promise between them. She deserved better than the way she had been treated before by a man. He refused to be considered part of that attitude.