Desert Rose (A Tale of Nälu, 1) by J. L. Mbewe
A Tale of Nälu
Desert Rose
J. L. Mbewe
a division of Pala Press
Lindale, TX
Desert Rose
A Tale of Nälu
2nd Edition
© 2014 J. L. Mbewe
Published by BrokenSeed Books
P. O. Box 335
Lindale, TX 75771
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BrokenSeed Books is a division of Pala Press, Lindale, TX
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This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are a creation of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to reality is entirely coincidental. Enjoy the adventure!
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Desert Rose
A Tale of Nälu
“NOTHING GOOD WILL come from this,” her sister said, standing in the doorway. The evening sun burned red behind her, casting the sand dunes in shades of dark purple. The crystals adorning her delicate gown flung prisms on the interior walls.
Jealousy sliced through Johari like a knife. Her sister couldn’t understand what it was like standing in the shadow of a Haruzo goddess who had caught the eye of the king. Now swathed in veils and jewels, Emmi had swept back into her life only to crush her dreams, but Johari wouldn’t let her this time. She would have a king as well just not among the Haruzo. She placed her hands on her hips. “You don’t know that, Emmi.”
“He is a przanth.” Emmi cocked her head, and her tight curls bounced around her face. “Has he seen you as a true Haruzo?”
“He knows what we are.” Johari twisted one of her braids in her fingers.
“Knowing is one thing, but seeing the transformation is something entirely different.” Emmi frowned. “He doesn’t understand our ways, nor do you understand his.”
Johari crossed her arms. She would not lose her temper and give her sister an edge over her. “I am not a child.”
“I know.” Her sister sighed. Her eyes softened, revealing a muddied look of sorrow or pity. Johari clenched her jaw and glared back. She refused to accept her sister’s pity.
“I’m just looking out for you. I want you to have the best.”
“Oh, like you have?” Johari shook her head. “You don’t see it, do you?” She bit back her retort. The words burned. How could her sister be so blind to the shadow she created? Her marriage to the king ruined her chances to finding a suitable mate. The Haruzo males saw only one thing when they looked at her—a chance at the throne.
“I’m not saying to stay away from him.” Emmi paused and rubbed her hands over her arms. “Just be careful to whom you give your heart. There are other respectable—”
“It’s too late for that. He loves me. I can see it in his eyes.” Johari smiled. If only she could make her sister understand. This was her chance. This was someone who saw her for her. “Trust me. I know what I am doing. Tonight, he’ll give me his pledge.”
Emmi’s dark eyes narrowed. “I hope you’re right, but if you need anything send for me. We leave tomorrow in case you change your mind.”
“I’ll be fine.” Johari kissed her on the cheek.
“I hope so.” Her sister hesitated, her gaze lingering on Johari. “May Parzanah protect you.” Then with a slight bow, she slipped from the doorway and headed down the narrow road back to the heart of the city.
“And you, too.” Johari pulled the door closed and leaned against the rough cut wood. Would Parzanah protect her now? She hadn’t waited for her beloved’s pledge, but he would give it. He had implied it, hadn’t he? Otherwise, he wouldn’t have pursued her as he did. Besides, she couldn’t change her mind even if she wanted to. She wouldn’t dwell on those thoughts. Hadn’t she known all along what could happen? She stepped back. He would come soon, and she had to get ready. The chill of the desert invaded her room, so she set about preparing a fire in the hearth.
She selected the best of her dresses. The gossamer layers were red and gold, the color of Bonzapur and her dreams. In her mind’s eye, she saw a bold and beautiful wedding arrayed with roses and lilies to rival her sister’s royal celebration. She swirled in the center of the room. Her braids swung out and back again, their clay beads clicking against each other. Tonight, she would tell him. She opened the jar of oil and anointed her body, making her dark skin gleam in the firelight. The fragrance soothed away her sister’s words and heightened her anticipation.
A soft knock announced his arrival. She jumped to her feet, her pulse thundering in her ears. The door opened and in stepped her man. Val, the king of the eastern world. Her beloved. He quickly closed the door, faced her, and slipped his hood back.
His pale skin glistened in the glow of the fire. Thick, brown locks crowned his head and brushed his ears. His bright, blue eyes glittered and roved over her. He smiled. “My desert flower, you look lovely tonight.”
Her heart jumped into her throat. She wanted to shout right then and there, but instead, she smiled and bowed. “Thank you.”
“Is there some special occasion I’m not aware of?”
“Don’t spoil the surprise. Come in and rest. Our meal shall arrive soon.”
He shifted his weight to his other foot. “I can’t stay.”
“What?” Her breath caught. “Why?”
“I’ve come to say goodbye.” He stepped closer and took her hand in his. “I leave in the morning. I wish we could have one last night together before I go.”
She stepped back, her eyes darting to his. “But I’m going with you.”
“Why?” He shrugged. “Your people are here.”
“But my heart belongs to you. Your people will be my people.”
He shook his head. “I have a wife and a kingdom awaiting my return. I can’t take you with me.”
The stone in her chest plummeted into her stomach. A wave of flames flooded her body, burning her face. She took a deep breath and swallowed the rising panic. “I don’t understand. You have made us one flesh. I thought you were intending to pledge—”
“I had no such intentions.” He straightened. “You are free to go as you choose.”
“I can’t,” she whispered, blinking back the tears.
“Look, I appreciate what you have done for me while I have been here, but I can’t take you back with me. What would my people say?”
She glanced away. The fire crackled in the hearth, laughing at her.
“I must go.” He pulled the hood over his pale face.
“You don’t understand,” she said, grabbing his arm. “I am with child. Your child.”
His blue eyes turned to ice. He opened his mouth, but then closed it, and shook his head. He wrenched his arm from her hands and fled into the night.
His wool cloak tore from her hands, its fibers burning her fingers. Tears slid down her cheeks as the chill of the desert seeped into her soul.
The next morning, Johari found the man’s servant standing outside her door. His skin was as pale as his master’s, but his eyes were brown and set in a narrow, distasteful face. He held a bundle to his chest. His face twisted as he lifted his chin and cleared his throat.
“Johari?”
She nodded and clutche
“I’ve been sent to gather your belongings.” He looked down his hooked nose at her. “His Majesty has requested you return with us. He has settled your affairs here. You won’t be coming back.”
Johari gasped. He had changed his mind, and she would still have the wedding of her dreams. She smiled. She would make him an excellent wife and a great addition to his harem. She would make sure of it.
“And ma’am?” The servant eyed her. “You’ll need to cover up where we’re going. Dress in these.” He handed her the bundle. “We leave shortly.
The days blurred into each other as the caravan crossed the desert. Johari rode in Val’s decorated coach during the day, and each evening she slept in his tent just as they had done for the past month, but this time, it was different. Gone were the veils of innocence and deceit, for now she recognized the look in his eyes for what it truly was, and it wasn’t love. Shadows flitted at the edges of her heart, and her passion turned to ice.
On the last evening in the desert, melancholy descended on Johari, but she buried it beneath her devotion to her beloved. In the tent, he lay next to her quieter than usual. She massaged his shoulders.
“You treat me too well,” he said.
“Why wouldn’t I?” She paused, her hands lingering on his skin.
He shrugged.
“I do this because I love you.”
He shook his head. He turned and faced her, his blue eyes like deep refreshing pools. “To think I would’ve left you behind. I’ve been a fool.”
She pressed her fingers over his lips. He took her hand in his. His gaze drew her deeper until she was submerged and afraid she would drown in them. But wouldn’t such a death be more agreeable than life without him?
“I hadn’t expected to find such beauty where the sun burns everything it touches.”
She placed his hand on her abdomen.
He smiled. “A baby—my baby grows within your womb.”
“A prince among two nations.”
His face clouded, and he pulled away.
“What bothers you?”
“He, if it’s a he, won’t be a prince.”
“Why not? Will I not be your wife?”
He sat up and turned away. “I told you. I already have a wife.”
“You can have more. How can a king not have a harem?”
“It’s different where I’m from.” He refused to look at her. “When we return, I will care for you and our child, privately.”
She recoiled and tightened the sash on her robe, her fingers trembling. She turned her glare on him. “I am noble among my kinsmen, but you have diminished me to nothing more than a servant or worse.”
He snorted. “What did you think would happen?”
Anger and sorrow battled inside her, threatening to release a deluge of tears. “I thought you loved me.”
He clenched his jaw. “I have responsibilities, protocol to follow. You must understand and accept it.”
“Did you not think about that when you came crawling to my bed?” Her skin tingled like hot sand driven by the desert wind. She collapsed on her hands and knees as lush black fur engulfed her body. Her fingers enlarged to black padded paws. She stretched her body, extended her claws, and flicked her long feline tail.
“What in the Abyss!” He leapt to his feet, his face pale and horror-stricken. He unsheathed his sword. “Do not think to intimidate me.”
She snarled and lashed out with one of her paws, knocking the sword across the tent.
He lurched backward. “Then leave! Why don’t you?”
He huddled on the floor of the tent, but Johari didn’t attack. She rested her feline head on his shoulder. I cannot leave. We are one, and I bear your child.
He shook his head. “I’m bound by the laws of the crown and the land.”
But you are the king.
“I can’t change the law on a whim to suit my fancy. Can you imagine what trouble a kingdom would be if every ruler did that?”
Johari shuddered as the fur receded, and her body shrank. She lay next to him, her dark skin contrasting against his, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch him. “I do not wish to leave,” she whispered. She looked up at the ceiling, her vision blurred. “For where you go, I will go. May it be as it must, for I have made my choice.” She swallowed as a tear eased from her eye and slid down her cheek into her ear.
He leaned over her, his eyes searching hers. “And I will take care of my responsibilities. For that is my choice.”
The king’s city crowned the edge of the plains atop a hill not unlike her desert city. And like the desert, the plains stretched out forever before it, but instead of sand dunes or rugged rock formation, a forlorn tree or two broke the horizon. As they drew closer to the city, lone dwellings gave away to villages huddling along the dirt packed road. Their huts were cut from the ground itself and baked hard by the sun, not unlike the clay bricks. Behind them, the plains had transformed into patchwork plots of churned dirt. Hundreds of people swarmed over the fields, planting seeds, raking, and watering. The people paused as the caravan clipped along. Their faces glowed with sweat and pride. The excitement of spring must have lifted their hearts, but not Johari’s. She withdrew from the window of the coach and wrapped blankets around her shoulders.
Val sat opposite of her and rode most of the way in silence. Johari stared at the coach’s door handle, the velvet interior, the ruffled curtains, focusing on anything but Val. She couldn’t stretch properly inside and longed to be let out so she could run alongside the caravan, but that was out of the question. She dozed to forget her cramped muscles and her broken dreams.
He cleared his throat, and Johari shot up.
“It isn’t unheard of to return bringing gifts from foreign lands,” he said, his voice quiet.
She frowned. She drew the blankets tighter and waited for him to continue.
“When we arrive in Badara, you will take to your Haruzo form. I will present you as a gift from the king of Bonzapur to me, a token of appreciation, if you will. My people, if they are even familiar with your kind, don’t need to know the loveliness of such a gift.” He smiled. The hunger was still in his eyes, but it lacked the heat of the desert.
She turned away.
Horns announced the arrival of the caravan to the city. The horse-drawn carriage wound the way to the keep. Johari stretched atop the velvet seat in her feline form. She sighed in relief as her muscles relaxed. Why hadn’t she thought to do this sooner?
Val eyed her, his hard expression unreadable. He unhooked a gold chain from around his neck and clasped it around Johari’s neck. He stroked her head. “By this, they will know you are mine. It will protect you and give you access to the castle, although, you shouldn’t need to roam the castle grounds. I have the perfect place for you where no one will bother you.”
The coach rolled to a stop, and its doors opened. The king stepped out and motioned for her to follow.
Johari slunk to the ground and peered about her.
The people gasped. A group of humans, mostly young girls, formed a half-circle around the base of the stairs. At its center stood the queen, tall and rigid, dressed in lush shades of green. The thick bodice hugged her chest and then plunged into the deeper folds of the velvet gown. A delicate cloth covered her head and wrapped around her neck, but couldn’t hide the flaming red of her hair beneath. Her cold eyes sent a shiver through Johari’s spine. Johari raised her hackles and nearly growled.
The king stretched his hand toward Johari. “A token of appreciation from the king of Bonzapur.”
The queen nodded, but the others whispered amongst themselves, shooting wary glances. They stunk of fear. Johari arched her back in a stretch, extended her claws, and let out a loud purr.
“What are you all standing around for?” Val asked. “There are supplies and gifts to unload.” He turned to the queen. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Come with me,” Val said, and he strode into a courtyard that ran the length of the keep.
Johari padded after him. Hedges of thorns and leafy stems lined cobblestone paths to the right of her, and to her left, the keep towered above an arched walkway. A few thick trees loomed over the hedges, their nude branches bearing the promise of spring.
She paused and sniffed the air. It was cold and damp, nothing like home. What had she gotten herself into? She steeled herself and loped after her beloved. At the back of the courtyard, a tall gated entrance swung open to reveal a narrow corridor. She slunk through; the growing sense of isolation suffocated her. Where was he taking her? She didn’t have to comply. She could return to her desert, her family, and friends. She could send for Emmi, but the thought galled her. She couldn’t go back. She had made a decision, committed herself to this przanth. She would do what was right.
The corridor gave way to a small, private courtyard. The same thorny bushes and cobblestone pathways crisscrossed the ground, except here, layers of dead leaves and debris partially hid the stones, and the bushes’ long, thorny stems stuck out unevenly.
The arched walkway continued along the side of the keep and ended at the base of a square tower where the inner curtain wall connected, hemming her inside a brick prison.
Johari paused, craning her neck to see the top of the tower.
“No,” Val said. “The tower is reserved for the guardians, whenever they choose to grace me with their presence.” He turned to the left and gestured with his hand. “Here is your new home.”
Beneath the archway, a corridor broke off and near it, a door in the stone wall. Val shoved the door open, the hinges screeching loudly. He wiped his hands together. “Not bad. Needs a little cleaning, but it will feel like home when it’s done. I’ll send some servants to get the room prepared for you.”
Johari peered into the shadows. Cobwebs hung from the rafters, quivering in the sudden presence of the outside air. Dust and grime covered the window and the floor. She shuddered.