The Healer's Warrior by Renee Lewin Read Free Book Online Page B

his shoulder at Tikso on the horizon. It was only fifteen minutes ago that he ripped Jem’ya’s life apart then fled. He looked at his squadron following behind him. They had taken twenty villagers captive. Ankles tied close together, wrists bound and secured against their chests by a piece of rope connected to a loop around their necks, the men and women stumbled along beside the warriors’ horses to which they were attached. In the next city they would buy a carriage for them to sit in.
    Tareq’s bitterness at the sight of Jem’ya’s people being hauled away upset his stomach, but he couldn’t leave a battle empty-handed. Those were the King’s cruel orders.  To make matters worse, Tareq knew that the village would now be in the King’s sights, and it was likely the man would send another force to conquer Tikso entirely.  Was there nothing Tareq could do to make this right? He couldn’t undo what he’d done, but the least he could do is make considerations for Jem’ya’s close relatives. Tareq turned Sultan around and stopped in front of the brigade.
    “Halt. Untie these people from your horses. I have questions for them.”
    The villagers were untied and then lined up in front of Tareq. Tareq’s heart raced as he stood before their piercing gazes. The mixed blood translator came down from his horse and stood at Tareq’s side to interpret the conversations.
    “Who here is a family member of Jem’ya Okobi ?” Tareq asked.
    All of the men and women raised their hands as high as the rope allowed. Tareq’s heart fell. The translator then explained to Tareq that, in a tribe, all of them considered themselves family, even if they were not blood relatives.
    “Are any of you her aunts or uncles?”
    Two women and one of the men raised their hands.
    “Are any of you her siblings?”
    No one responded.
    Tareq took a deep breath. “Are any of you her parents?”
    A tall man with a thick beard and a young looking woman both nodded and raised their hands.
    Tareq was incredibly relieved that Jem’ya’s parents had survived. He folded his nervous hands behind his back. “Please, you may stand by your husband,” he said softly to Jem’ya’s mother.  She shuffled to her husband’s side. Dried tears marked her cheeks and her eyes were bright with anger and fear. Jem’ya’s father looked down his nose at Tareq, his eyes searing with disgust and rage.
    “I know your daughter. She is well-respected in the North. She’s been taken someplace safe, so please do not worry.”
    “Where have you taken her?” Jem’ya’s father growled.
    Tareq lowered his head.  He couldn’t let his men know the details and he was ashamed to tell Jem’ya’s parents the truth.  “She is safe,” he uttered. “But your son…,” Tareq swallowed, “I am deeply sorry. I never wanted any of this to happen.”
    Jem’ya’s mother began to cry again. She turned to her husband and buried her face against his shoulder. Her husband snarled something at Tareq. When Tareq looked to the translator to know what was said, the translator only shook his head, unwilling to repeat it. Tareq sighed.
    “I fear that the two of you may not be safe if you remain in your village. I will have one of my men take you to the town of Eulid . You can stay there until you and Jem’ya are reunited. She is someone I truly appreciate, so I am doing what I can for her family.”
    Jem’ya’s mother lifted her head. “You are the one that gave her those earrings, aren’t you?”
    Surprised, Tareq nodded. “She talked to you about me?”
    “Yes,” her voice trembled. “She said that you were an arrogant , insensitive and entitled Arab man, and I told her...I told her, ‘Please, be very careful’.” She broke into sobs again.
    Tareq’s pride crumbled further. He’d always thought that the time he shared with Jem’ya on the Coast was genuine. It seems he’d been a fool all along to think Jem’ya’s friendship was anything more than charity.