Jennifer Colgan: The Concubine’s Tale

His hand paused in its exploration, and he gave her a searching look. “Right.”

Cait’s breathing settled. She didn’t want Grant to back off. She only wanted to savor the moment. No need to rush.

She kissed him once, lightly, and then settled against him. His arm came around her, and she took a deep breath before continuing her tale.

The sounds of the marketplace died away behind them as the sun climbed above the distant horizon. Khanu slowed his pace, counting the narrow streets in his head as they made their way through the outskirts of the city. Here, the houses stood close and the odor of livestock was strong.

Fabric sails hung between the mud-brick walls, providing patches of shade for miniscule courtyards and alleyways. Children with large, dark eyes scurried between pens of goats, throwing feed from wooden bowls.

No one gave the couple a second glance. Nayari’s grip on Khanu’s hand relaxed, and when he turned to look, he found her smiling at a small boy leading a pregnant goat by a tattered rope. The creature waddled obediently on the end of its tether, its abundant belly nearly scraping the ground.

The boy grinned back at Nayari, showing the gaping hole where his two front teeth belonged.

“We are looking for Horeb, the weaver. Do you know him?” Khanu asked.

The boy hesitated, looking to the goat as if it might give him permission to answer. “Horeb is my father’s brother,” he said finally. “His house is that way.” He pointed down the street with one skinny arm.

Khanu nodded. He regretted having nothing to give the boy as a reward, but made a note to repay the kindness someday if he could. He took Nayari’s hand and drew her forward.

“Who is Horeb?” she asked. The worried look in her golden eyes made him long to comfort her.

“A friend. He will help us.”

Khanu recognized the house of his friend at the end of the street. Years had passed since Khanu had left to train as a warrior. Horeb had remained, apprenticed to his older brother as a weaver of mats and baskets. Khanu offered a silent prayer to the gods that Horeb remembered their boyhood friendship as well as he did.

A small, round woman met them at the door of Horeb’s home. She was so heavy with child, her hips practically touched both sides of the narrow doorway at once. Though she gave Khanu a wary look, she smiled at Nayari.

“Are you the wife of Horeb?” he asked.

“I am,” she replied, her arched brows knitting together. “But he is not here right now.”

“I am Khanu, his friend from many years back.”

“Khanu?” A voice boomed from behind the woman.

Khanu exchanged a glance with Nayari.

The pregnant woman shrugged. “I thought he was not home.” The woman blushed. Obviously the sight of a warrior at their door made some people uneasy.

She moved aside, maneuvering her girth around a reed-thin man with a short, black beard and a completely bald head. Horeb. He’d aged in the intervening years. Worry lines creased the sides of his mouth, and there were strands of silver hair in his beard. He looked a decade older than Khanu now, though they shared their birth year.

Horeb smiled, showing even, white teeth, and reached a sinewy hand to grasp Khanu’s thickly muscled forearm.

“The life of a warrior agrees with you, my friend. Forgive Setma. She is cautious.”

“A good woman is cautious,” Khanu said. “And very wise. Setma and Horeb, this is Nayari.”

Setma waddled forward again, pushing her husband aside. She wrapped Nayari in a hug and patted her cheek in a motherly fashion. “The wife of Horeb’s oldest friend is my friend. Welcome to our home.”

Khanu’s smile faltered. Dare he tell Horeb the truth? Yes, but not here in the courtyard where anyone might overhear.

“We ask a favor, Horeb. I pray our friendship will bear it.”

“Anything I have is yours, my friend.” Horeb clapped Khanu on the shoulder and drew him into the house. “Come in and tell me what I can do for you.”

Cait pulled Grant’s tie slowly out of his collar and draped it around her neck. She kissed him and swung one leg over his waist so that she straddled him on the couch.

“I surrender,” he said, holding up his hands. She leaned forward, her hands on his chest, and settled herself carefully over his hips. She liked being in control, he decided. She’d slowed him down before, clearly not because she was uncertain if she wanted their evening to continue on to intimacy, but because she wanted to take charge and set the pace.

Fine by me , he thought. He looked up into her eyes, dilated by her growing desire, and wondered why he hadn’t made it a point to ask her out sooner. That cold, business-like exterior was obviously nothing more than a necessary professional veneer, hiding the warm, intriguing woman underneath. He’d wasted so much time wondering why she disliked him, only to finally discover he’d been reading her wrong all this time.

He sighed when she popped the two top buttons on his shirt. “Now we’re even.” She leaned forward again, raising her hips to relieve the mounting pressure under his fly.

“One thing I need to know,” he said before her lips reached his. She looked at him and caught her lower lip seductively between her teeth. “Are you going to finish the story tonight? Are you sure you want to take it all the way to the end?”

Her expression told him she understood his meaning. It wasn’t the story he wanted to finish-or at least that wasn’t all he wanted to play out to the end tonight.

“Hmm.” She hummed her response, arched and came down on him again. Her hands explored the button on his pants. “We’ll go all the way to the end…and then some.”

He smiled and reached up to claim the next button on her blouse. Three to go. “Now we’re not even anymore.”

Nayari folded the top of her dress down around her waist and soaked a cloth in cool water for bathing. It felt good to wash away the dust of their hurried journey through the marketplace, and the prospect of spending a night safe in Horeb’s home made her feel something close to contentment. Though she’d expected to live out the rest of her days under Baakah’s rule in Ammonptah’s home, Nayari had never felt as comfortable there as she did now with her stomach full of a hearty meal prepared by Setma and the knowledge that Horeb would hide them in his cellar if anyone came looking.

Despite her newfound calm, she stiffened when she heard footsteps behind her. She felt Khanu’s gaze on her bare back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low. The sound of it made her skin tingle and her nipples rise to hard peaks. She remained still, resisting the desire to turn around and face him.

“For what?” She held her breath after the question, fearful of his answer.

“I’m sorry I did not tell Horeb and Setma that you are not my wife. I would have, but perhaps it’s better if they know less of the truth. No one can force them to tell what they do not know.”

Nayari sighed. “Of course. I agree. That’s wise.”

“Tomorrow, before sunrise, Horeb will take us to a cave in the desert where we can hide safely for a few days. From there we can join a passing caravan and journey to Wa-Set.”

“Horeb is a good friend. You’re lucky to know him.”

Khanu bowed his head. “I am fortunate he remembers me. I’ve been gone from here a long time and when I left, I believed I would never have cause to return.”

“I can see he’s honored by your visit. He respects your strength.”

“Yet I’m the one who is envious of him. I would not have expected to find his life appealing after all these years in service to Ammonptah.”

Nayari stared at her warrior. He’d achieved a position many men would have risked death to attain. “You would trade your station for a life like Horeb’s?”