Iris Johansen - The Treasure

Sleep? If she hadn’t been so numb, she would have laughed aloud. “How long before we can go looking for him?”

“A day, perhaps two. Maybe longer. When we’re sure Nasim has given up the search and left the forest.”

“He won’t give up.”

“He will if he thinks we managed to elude him and are no longer here. That’s why we must make no move.”

“How will we know when he leaves?”

“Antonio’s very good in the woods, but I won’t let him go out until we think it’s safe.”

“Of course not.” The last thing she wanted was to put another innocent person in danger. Her burden of guilt was already too great.

She closed her eyes. Let nothing happen to him. Please let Haroun be safe.

Twice the next day, riders came within yards of the cave. Once two of them dismounted and walked into the nearby bushes to relieve themselves.

But they did not discover the entrance.

On the third day Layla sent Antonio out to reconnoiter.

He shook his head when he returned a few hours later. “They’re still here. But they’re camped on the edge of the forest to the west. They may be getting ready to leave.”

“Haroun?” Selene asked. “Is he a prisoner?”

“I didn’t see him in the camp.”

Fear shuddered through her.

“Don’t think the worst,” Layla said. “That may be good news. He could be hiding in the forest. Now sit down and have some of these fine berries Antonio brought us.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Eat anyway. You’ve barely eaten anything for the past few days. You have to think of the babe.”

She had thought of the babe and let Haroun ride into danger. She had chosen the child, and Kadar and Haroun might suffer for-

“Eat,” Layla repeated.

If she had chosen, then she must at least make sure something good came out of this. If Haroun died, it must not be for nothing. The child must live.

She reached out, took a berry, and began to eat.

The next day Antonio ventured out again. When he returned, he reported that Nasim and his men had left the forest.

They waited until nightfall to make sure he did not return and then began their search for Haroun.

They found him on the second day, tossed in a gully like a scrap of garbage.

He had been chopped to pieces.

“Don’t look.” Layla stepped in front of Selene, blocking the way. “Antonio and I will take care of him.”

“Get out of my way.” Selene thrust her aside and fell to her knees beside Haroun. No face. No face. It wasn’t even Haroun anymore. “Oh, God.”

Layla’s hand fell on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“They didn’t have to do this to him,” Selene whispered. “To kill is bad enough. That monster didn’t have to do this.”

“Selene, we have to bury him,” Layla said gently. “It’s been too long already.”

“Yes,” she said dully.

“Antonio and I will do it. You go back to the cave and wait until-”

“No, I’ll do it.”

“It’s too much. You-”

She jumped to her feet and whirled on Layla. “I said I’ll do it,” she said fiercely. “You didn’t know him. You didn’t care about him. He deserves to have someone-” Her voice broke and she had to stop until she was able to go on. “You and Antonio go dig the grave. I’ll prepare him.”

“It’s not wise. It would be easier for-”

“I don’t care. I don’t want it easy. He wasn’t allowed to have it easy.” She turned back to Haroun. “Go away.”

A moment later she heard the sound of Layla’s and Antonio’s departure.

She needed a shroud. She took off her cloak and laid it on the ground. “We have to do this together, Haroun,” she whispered. “You’ve always helped me. Now let me help you.”

They laid Haroun to rest at sunset.

For a long time Selene stood looking down at the pile of earth. It didn’t seem right that any man’s life should end like this. There should be… more.

“Are you ready to go?” Layla asked.

“Not yet.”

Haroun laughing as he diced with Kadar in the stable at Montdhu.

Haroun wet and shivering after he’d been pulled up with the anchor on the Dark Star.

Haroun smiling brilliantly, hovering over her after he’d learned of the child.

Pain rippled through her as she remembered how annoyed she’d been at that cosseting.

“Selene!”

Layla sounded alarmed, Selene realized finally. Something must be wrong.

Of course something was wrong. Darkness was all around them. Haroun was dead. Haroun had been chopped-

“Catch her, Antonio.”

It was too late. She fell to the ground beside Haroun’s grave.

LAYLA WAS BATHING HER FOREHEAD when Selene opened her eyes.

“It’s about time.” Layla threw the soft cloth aside. “I was beginning to believe you would never wake. Do you realize I’m becoming deplorably adept at this boring task?”

They were in the cave, Selene realized. “How long…”

“You fainted three days ago.”

“Three-” She shook her head. “It’s not possible. No faint lasts that long.”

Layla glanced away from her. “There were other problems.”

She stiffened. “What other problems?”

“There was… blood.”

“What?”

Layla’s gaze returned to her face. “I think you’ve lost the child.”

“No!”

“I understand it sometimes happens. The shock of Haroun’s death, the strain of the last days-”

“No.”

“Do you think it was easy to tell you this?” Layla said roughly. “I wanted you to have this child. But it’s happened and it’s best you face it now.”

She didn’t want to face it. She wanted to go back to sleep and return to oblivion.

“Don’t you dare.” Layla reached out and grasped her shoulders. “Open your eyes. You stay awake. So God isn’t fair. You just have to go on.”

“All for nothing,” Selene whispered. “Haroun died for-”

“Haroun died because Nasim butchered him. The fault wasn’t yours. And nothing you did caused your child to die. If you want to blame anyone, blame Nasim. He was responsible for both deaths.”

Selene didn’t want to think of blame right now. She wanted to go back to the time when the baby beneath her heart was still alive.

“You should be ready to travel in a few days,” Layla said. “Do I take you back to Genoa to board Tarik’s ship or do we continue to Rome?”

“I don’t know.” She rolled over on her side and curled up in a ball facing the wall of the cave. “I… can’t seem… to think clearly.”

“Don’t you go back to sleep.”

“I don’t feel as if I’ll ever sleep again.” She stared straight ahead. Empty. She felt empty and cold and lonely. Strange that she’d feel lonely for a babe she’d never held in her arms.

“I hear it sometimes helps to weep,” Layla said awkwardly. “You might try it.”

“I don’t want to weep.” What she was feeling was too deep for tears, the agony too intense to allow her release. “It’s all wrong. Haroun… my baby… It shouldn’t have happened.”

“I know.” Layla’s hand gently stroked her hair. “I know, Selene.”

Layla didn’t know. She couldn’t experience this pain. She couldn’t know the emptiness.

She couldn’t feel the anger.

Selene didn’t speak for the next two days. She would not eat and Layla doubted if she slept. When Layla tried to talk to her, Selene shook her head and turned away. Neither gentleness nor roughness ignited any response. It was as if she were cocooned in a web of pain that would allow nothing to unravel it.