Take My Hand
Once I knew only darkness and
stillness...
my life was without past or future...
but a little word from the fingers of another
fell into my hand that clutched at emptiness,
and my heart leaped to the rapture of living.
-Helen Keller
Chronology: Tristan is 19. Lancelot is 17. Raja is 9.
Raja flopped over on her stomach, then on her back, her side. Sleep eluded her. Her uncle had tucked her in less than two hours ago, and although she was a tiny bit sleepy, her eyes wouldn’t close, her mind wouldn’t shut down. She needed her uncle to sit next to her until slumbered. She threw the covers back, recoiling when her bare feet hit the floor. She felt around under the bed for her slippers. Just a bit more, she felt the tip...
“Oof!” the breath came out of her body as she toppled over the bed and onto the floor. Not very graceful. Nonetheless, it was easier to retrieve her slippers this way; she hastily put them on her feet.
It wasn’t that late, so there were two places he could be: his study or his room. She pitter-pattered down the hall, around the corner and knocked on his door. Her ear pressed against the door, then she opened it slowly. The dim fire illuminated the room, telling her that her uncle was obviously not inside. Raja frowned and hurried back down the hall and near the stairs. The shadows the torches created against the walls made her hurry to her uncle’s study. For the second time that night, she fell on the floor.
“Raja?” Lancelot bent down and helped her up. A woman was standing behind him. He was taken by surprise when her small arms wrapped around his neck tightly. “What’s wrong?”
She whimpered and buried her head in his neck. Lancelot could tell she wasn’t going to let go, so instinctually he picked her up, feeling her legs wrap around his body. Then he remembered the delectable lady he had been wanting in his bedroom for weeks. He turned around bashfully to see her with a smirk on her face. Okay, so the sight of him holding a child in his arms with tenderness and care was as foreign as seeing him with a bouquet of flowers, kneeling down in front a woman to propose marriage.
“Um...Raja?” He patted her on the back awkwardly, the woman’s eyes on him making him self-conscious. He heard the Arabic word for uncle. “He’s in his study with Arthur.” The small girl gave a sound of distress and disappointment. Now the beautiful woman was looking impatient, not to mention irritatingly amused as the spectacle. “You want to let go?”
She shook her head, oblivious to his sigh. A reluctant, brotherly responsibility overtook him and his face washed over with his: so-yeah-okay expression. She cocked an eyebrow at him, her hands on her hips. She hid it well that she had wanted to get this particular dark knight under her body. And the girl was thwarting her plans.
She said as quietly as she could, knowing that the girl would hear her no matter what: “Isn’t she a bit old to be...” her hand rotated in a circle to indicate her hold on him.
Lancelot’s dark eyes narrowed at the implication. Well, the thought had crossed his mind a few times, too, but after a while he had given up the notion. His brotherly side was full-scale now. “I have to take her back to her room.” He could not believe he was saying this!
The woman sighed heavily. He was about to suggest that she go wait in his, but he had no idea how long Raja would be in this frame of mind.
“Well...” she said huffily.
He shrugged, but evident regret at the loss of a very erotic night was in his brown eyes. The woman purposely swayed her hips seductively as she walked away. He rolled his eyes up at the ceiling and walked towards Raja’s room. He remembered the time when he would have let nothing get in the way of having a woman he wanted. But since Raja came along, and as time passed, getting to know her, and damnably becoming attached, responsibilities that had absolutely nothing to do with war and battle – which was all he had had – were naturally entrusted to him. And he thought with satisfaction – and the other men. So, he wasn’t the only one who had become a bit of a softy. Damned if he would become as obvious about it though. Reputations, reputations...expectations.
“All right,” he said, “here we are.” He patted her on the back again, feeling the small bones beneath her thick cotton nightgown. “You want to let go now?” When she didn’t answer, he shook her a bit. “Raja?” Then he realized that she had dozed off. Well then! He cleared his throat, attempting to gently wake her just a bit. Although, waking her was never the wisest thing to do. She stirred a bit, but only shifted to make herself more comfortable. Her hold was more secure, and he knew he was shit out of luck. He sat down in one of the armchairs. “Lucky I like you, kid,” he mumbled.
Raja yawned softly, then smacked her lips contentedly, nuzzling her head against her cousin’s shoulder. He only became aware that he had drifted off as well when Ardeth tapped him on the shoulder a short while later. The corner of the Egyptian’s mouth twitched in amusement.
“I see that you let her fall asleep before you put her in bed,” he said quietly.
“What was I supposed to do?”
“Always make sure you tuck her in before she falls asleep, or else it is more difficult to disengage yourself.” He said it without complaint, but with fondness. “Let me show you.”
Lancelot got up easily, his cousin not weighing more than a feather. He couldn’t believe he was about to get a lesson in putting a child to bed. Ardeth told him to gently loosen her legs, which was the easiest to do. Her short legs dangled. He bent down so her head would hit the pillows, and like magic, her arms loosened and he was free.
Raja’s eyelids flickered, then she mumbled, “Can we play Chess?”
“No, Raja,” her uncle replied. He slipped her slippers off and put the blankets back over her.
“I’m not sleepy,” she slurred.
Lancelot titled his head, his turn to be amused. Despite her age, she still had the high-pitched lilt of a child much younger.
Cornelius the Mouse twittered out from a pillow next to her. Unconsciously, Raja made a bridge with her hands, fingers laced for Cornelius to rest himself under. In seconds, her breathing was even, now asleep.
“Well, now I know,” Lancelot whispered wryly.
Ardeth walked out of the room with him, taking one last glance at his niece before shutting the door quietly. “I thank you for that, Lancelot. I know you usually have your own agenda during the night.”
Lancelot always appreciated it that Ardeth spoke to him like a man, an equal. He shrugged a shoulder. “She was out in the halls looking for you.”
“Oh?” He nodded. “She has been a bit solicitous lately.”
By now, Lancelot knew that that meant Raja was staying closer to him and others more than usual. Sometimes she regressed back into wanting to be constantly sheltered, wanting the reassuring hand in hers, holding onto her uncle’s coat when they walked.
They went their separate ways. Ardeth to his room, Lancelot to his, doing away with the thought of seeking out the woman in hopes of getting her back into his clutches.
Ardeth closed his door behind, going to stoke the fire which was aflame in
minutes. Irisi would be arriving tomorrow with her two ladies and male guards.
He had only seen her once since he had gone to care for Raja. Just a few weeks
before he and his niece departed for
Ardeth had left her when he received word of his sister, ‘Aisha and brother-in-law, Lancelot had been killed, and his little niece, Raja was near death. For the next year, Raja became the focal point of his life, all else was secondary, if that. For years he had wondered why the gods had been so cruel to take his Inara away from him, leaving him alone in a barren world. As the days, weeks and months passed, taking care of Raja, he felt purpose to his life once again, coming to the conclusion that this was why the gods had insisted he remain on earth.
Now, Irisi was coming to him. He had a feeling it was at the slight
prompting of his brother, Memnon, who would never stop wanting him to return to
----
Raja was still asleep when Irisi and her entourage arrived at the fortress. Ardeth introduced the knights to them. Irisi was wearing bright garbs of yellow, orange and gold, gold bangles adorned her wrists. Golden earrings dangled from her lobes. Her hair was onyx, twirled and coiled in an intricate hairdo on top of her head. Her two ladies wore the same style of clothing, only one was purple hued, and the other blue hued. Silver bangles jingled on their sleek, golden skin.
“Close your mouth,” Bors nudged Lancelot, “flies will get in.”
Ardeth left Irisi in his study so he could retrieve Raja. She was already dressed: white tunic, blue breeches and skirt and boots. Two braids held back her long hair that stopped just below her shoulder blades.
What Raja saw was the epitome of an Egyptian woman. It had been so long since she had seen a woman that wasn’t fair skinned.
Irisi stood, smiling down at Raja. She held out her smooth, perfectly shaped hand, which Raja took with some reluctance.
“You probably do not remember me, but we met once,” Irisi said. “You have grown.”
This earned her a smile from the small girl. “Two and a half inches!” she stated matter-of-factly.
Irisi laughed lightly. She and her ladies joined the knights for a meal. Lancelot continued to stare. Bors rolled his eyes. But the two women, Tameri and Halima, were flicking interested glances at Dagonet. He smiled politely at them when he caught their eyes. He was a grown man but their attention was threatening to make him blush.
Raja felt a different atmosphere around the table, different from when it was male guests that ate dinner with them. For so long she was used to being the only one close to her uncle, which was why she noticed the subtle ways Irisi and her Uncle Ardeth touched each other with the tips of their fingers, or the way they gazed at one another. Hmmph!
When Ardeth tucked her in that night, she watched him for any changes in his demeanor, which she saw none. But still...
“When is Irisi leaving?” she asked.
His dark eyebrows rose. “She is only staying for a few days.”
“Why is she here?”
Even he was not quite sure of that. The letter she had sent a few months ago was vague. “Just a visit.”
“Hmm.” She pet Cornelius on the head.
He waited until she drifted off before leaving her room. When he had left Irisi last, her eyes were an invitation to come to her quarters that night. He rubbed his eyes with his fore and middle finger. He tapped lightly on her door with his knuckles. The door opened, and she stood before him, long hair cascading down her back, the slopes of her breasts visible beneath the sheer silk of her nightgown.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him, pressing her fingers softly against his lips. “No talking this night,” she whispered, leading him into her room.
----
Raja awoke from her dream, heart beating fast. She had not cried out, otherwise her uncle would be here now, nevertheless, she needed his company. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d tucked her in, but he was always there when she rapped on his door. Raja hurried, panic building within her, ignoring the cold of the floor. She knocked, then opened the door to see her uncle’s bed had not been slept in. Stark confusion filled her, then she ran to his study. It was dark, the fire out. She whimpered and shivered.
Raja found herself at Tristan’s door, slapping the wood with her hand. “Trissy!” Please let him be there! “Trissy!”
When he opened the door, she threw herself at him, arms like a vise around his waist.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, kneeling.
“He’s gone! My uncle’s gone!” Her unshed tears threatened to fall. “He’s nowhere!”
Oh...Tristan could take a good guess where Ardeth was. Another uncomfortable situation, and he silently cursed at himself. It probably wouldn’t be the best thing to tell Raja: Your uncle is in Irisi’s room. Or should he just do that? He could also find this amusing if Raja wasn’t so distressed about her uncle’s “disappearance.” It was the middle of the night, so he certainly couldn’t fault Ardeth for being unavailable.
“I’m sure he’s fine, Raja,” he soothed.
“Where is he?”
Shit.
“Did he leave me?”
“No!” Tristan said. If he didn’t diffuse the situation fast she was bound to become hysterical. She’d been a little anxious lately, quieter, and seeking comfort more often. Her sleeping pattern completely disarranged.
“Where would he be?” she asked quietly, her eyes wide, begging Tristan for help.
“Here.” He ushered Raja into his room, and she took a seat on the edge of his bed. “He’s probably talking with his guest.” There, that was a cozy way of putting it.
“Irisi? But it’s late,” she pointed out, her fists clenched.
“We’re talking,” he countered.
“It’s different. THEY woke me up.”
Tristan saw her dilated pupils, knowing she had had one of those dreams, which would account for her overreaction. When he sat down on the bed she immediately climbed onto his lap. Raja had absolutely no conception of personal space, not that she took up much of it with her size. Not many nine year olds would be so unheeding of wanting to be comforted. In one of their occasional chats, Ardeth told him that after her parent’s death, she needed much more affection to make up for the violence that had been inflicted. Despite her intelligence, a part of her had regressed to a very juvenile state of dependence, very much an aged soul in a child’s body.
When she fell asleep, Tristan carried her back to her room, managing to tuck her in without waking her. It was a few hours before sunrise, and he debated whether he should sit with her a while or go back to his own room. He stayed for about a half an hour before trudging back to his own quarters.
----
Raja woke to rays of bright sunshine filtering into her room. “Cornelius?” She turned her head around and back, searching for her friend. The small creature appeared from under the covers. Smiling, she stroked her cheek against his soft fur. Raja got up and opened a drawer that had a small box of dried bread. She brought a morsel over to Cornelius who nibbled on it greedily.
“Raja?” He opened the door, fully expecting his niece to be asleep.
The little girl ran to him and jumped, giving him no choice but to pull her up into the air so she could rest on his strong forearm. “I missed you.”
“Oh, now,” he chortled lovingly, and kissed her on the head.
“I couldn’t find you last night,” she said. “Tristan said you were talking with Irisi.”
Thank the gods for Tristan’s quick thinking. “Yes.”
“What were you talking about so late?”
“How things are going back home,” he answered casually.
“Oh.”
“How about some breakfast, little one? Hmm?”
“Na’am, I’m hungry.”
Ardeth left her so she could get dressed while he prepared their morning meal, realizing that he forgot to tell her that Irisi would be joining them. Raja did not seem too surprised to find Irisi at the small table.
“Sabah il kheer, Raja,” Irisi greeted.
“
“Hello, Cornelius,” Irisi said.
Raja’s eyes popped open. Nobody but her uncle ever greeted her friends like that. She had to be up to something.
Ardeth hid his smile as he sat down. There was chatter between Irisi and Ardeth, Raja just nibbled her food, observing the dynamic between the two adults at the table. Irisi would sometimes put her hand on Ardeth’s, patting it, sometimes her touch lingered. It reminded her of how her baba and walida used to act around each other. Raja stilled. Are they married to each other? Surely, she would have known! Then: Is Irisi here to take him away?
“Little one?” Ardeth said. “Is anything wrong?”
Raja shook her head, suddenly feeling very uneasy and put out. “I’m full.”
Ardeth looked at her plate. “You have hardly eaten anything, Raja.”
“I’m not hungry anymore,” she said. “Can I please be excused?”
“You need your energy, Raja. Please try to eat some more,” Ardeth persisted gently.
Feeling her tension, Cornelius burrowed on her shoulder underneath her tunic. “I said I am not hungry,” she repeated.
The Egyptian was discomfited by her sudden change in attitude. Her words were terse, the air around her both angry and distressed.
“I want to see Odin and Horus now,” Raja said, refusing to look at either one of them.
“Very well,” he relented. “I will check in on you later.”
She nodded, and left the room without saying goodbye to either one of them.
----
Raja took a high jump, or high for her. Odin’s bridle had somehow been hung up out of her reach. She pursed her lips in frustration, hands on hips, tapping her foot. She stretched her arm up, taking another jump.
“Poop!” she muttered.
A low laugh sounded behind her. She knew that laugh. “Not funny, Trissy,” she reprimanded without glancing behind her. Without word, he lifted her up, enabling her to reach the bridle. He set her down gently. “Thank you,” she said primly. “I would have gotten it myself eventually.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said.
“I am getting taller, you know.”
“So, that would make you a whole two feet now?” he smirked.
She stuttered for a moment. “I am now standing at three feet and six inches!”
“Say that again. I can barely hear you from all the way up here.”
“Hmmph! Maybe your hearing is getting poor from old age.” She pivoted sharply, turning away from him.
Tristan put Odin’s saddle atop the horse, as it was too heavy for Raja.
She forfeited. “Thank you.”
The two of them trotted out of the stables, heading for the glade that they usually occupied. Raja held onto to the reins so tightly her knuckles turned white. She sighed. The young girl heard Tristan’s inquiry by the way he arched his brow. They had become deeply familiar with one another’s inaudible gestures.
After a pause, she said, “Irisi came here to take him away from me.” Her eyes were wide as she turned towards Tristan. “Didn’t she?”
He knew Raja’s greatest, but unfounded, fear was being left behind. Abandoned. She knew that her uncle would never, ever do that, but she felt such strong pulls of distance that it did away with all reason.
Raja’s shoulders slumped. “They look at each other the way my baba and walida used to look at each other.”
That was funny, because he hadn’t gotten the impression that they were so
involved. But, really, what did he know about being in love? Ardeth had no
plans to leave
“But they’re dead now,” she whispered, more to herself than him.
There was that edge of panic in her voice, nearly imperceptible, but he had become tuned to it, watching out for it. “Your uncle would never leave you, Raja.”
“Then what if I had to live with her? She wouldn’t tolerate me. I’m bothersome.”
“You’re not to me.”
“Never?”
“Nope.”
“Not even when I first met you?”
He half-grinned. When he first met her, he was surprised how at ease he was in her company. And how he had gotten used to her reaching for his hand so much, holding on securely. He had learned Raja had a preoccupation with hands for some reason. She often traced lines on his palm, even with her uncle and Lancelot. She compared the sizes by putting hers flat against his, or holding the back of his hand to her cheek for a moment, smiling contentedly. Then, she would pat his hand as if she were reassuring him of something, resting her hand against his while her other continued to entwine with his fingers.
“No.”
They reached the glade and let Odin and Dyne graze as always. Horus and Penelo flew by, wings outstretched, flying so graceful it was as if they were merely being pushed along by the wind. Raja took off her shoes and rolled her breeches up. She stepped into the water until it was up to her knees, searching for fishes.
“Look, it’s Bernard!” Raja exclaimed.
“How do you know it’s the same fish?” he asked as he sat lazily against a tree, slicing pieces off an apple.
“Of course this is Bernard, he was here last week.” She touched the water with her fingertip, causing ripples to spread with ease. “Benjamin isn’t here though.” She bid farewell to Bernard and went in search of flowers. When she found ones that satisfied her, she plopped down by Tristan and began to make garlands.
“I’m not putting another one of those on. I’m letting you know right now.”
“Oh, all right,” she capitulated. “I’ll find a nice, small vase and put one on your beside table.”
“Men do not put flowers in their rooms,” he warned her.
Raja studiously ignored him. “I can put one in all of your rooms.”
He grunted.
“Something nice to wake up to,” she said, nodding her head with conviction. “Don’t worry, I’ll always make sure they’re fresh,” she added as if Tristan was worried about that.
He let the subject drop in hopes that she would forget it. He had been softened enough, but at least he wasn’t the only one. In the back of his head he told himself that Ardeth would stay with her here. As much as Raja needed her uncle unconditionally, well...he needed her too.
----
Ardeth swung his legs over the bed, bending down to pick his breeches up off
the floor. Irisi watched him with interest, this man she loved and wanted
beyond all measure. She had come to
“We should talk now, Irisi,” he said gently. “It has been three days. Tell me what you have come to say.”
“I think you know, Ardeth.”
He rubbed his hand down his face, turning to look at her. Her golden, flawless skin, almond shaped eyes, her irises a deep molten brown. Her lips were full and soft, her hair silky, body curved lusciously.
“As I told my brother, I will not return to
“You have been here long enough.”
“Did my brother not tell you why I am choosing to remain here?” This was a pointless question, as he knew he had.
“He did, yes.”
“Then why do you persist?” He got up, walking to the other side of the room to retrieve his undershirt, stopping midway to pick up his belt.
“I had hoped I would be reason enough for you to return.” She did not bother to cover herself, instead she remained on top of the sheets, bearing herself to him, still covered in a light sheen of perspiration from their ardent love making.
Ardeth notched his belt around his tunic before sitting on the end of the bed. His resolve so strong that her body was no hindrance to his purpose.
“Raja’s well being depends on her surroundings, her friends are here,” he explained.
“Friends?” she rebutted incredulously. “They are all older than her! I can understand her cousin, but the rest of them?”
“That matters not at all, Irisi,” he said, his calm, placating tone beginning to stir her. “She has made much progress here.”
She stared at this man. Such a strong warrior with a tender heart. “What of your well being, Ardeth?”
“My well being is Raja’s well being,” he told her. “When she smiles, I smile. When she laughs, I laugh. I cannot explain the joy I felt in my heart when I saw her smile and giggle for the first time. When I saw her reach out for another hand other than mine with such trust.”
“And she could not have done that in
“That is irrelevant. What matters is that she came to do that here.” Ardeth’s voice was becoming stern.
Irisi advanced, moving closer to him. “She is getting older. You cannot continue to dote on her like this. At her age she should not be so coddled, so doted on.”
Ardeth narrowed his dark brow. “I find it incredible that you and Memnon fail to see that Raja needs attention. Not the sort that spoils a child, but the kind that bolsters her confidence and belief that she is lovable, which she is. You have no idea the brutality that was inflicted on her, the depravity she witnessed. All the tenderness her parents bestowed on her was beaten away, she needs this restoration more than anything.”
“She can heal in
“Seems,” he stressed. “She is not well, but she is improving.”
“I love you, Ardeth. Reconsider. Raja can come with us, I would never even consider the notion that she be removed from your company.”
Ardeth chuckled lightly, ruefully. “Irisi, you and I both know, that despite your good heart, children are not your strong point. And Raja is different, she requires constant patience, understanding, love, tenderness. It is imperative. I cannot put her in the hands of anyone who cannot do that with genuine dedication.”
Despite his words, Irisi was not offended. Yes, she knew that Raja’s special needs would be taxing. Her home was grand, with many rooms, separate wings, but if Ardeth was to stay close to her, so would she.
“Raja is first, second and third in my life, Irisi,” Ardeth said. “Besides, you deserve someone who can love you with their whole being. I never led you to believe that I could or would give you more than what we had. Nothing is more important to me than Raja.”
Irisi locked her eyes on his, silently, contemplatively. There was no doubt to his words, no hesitance. “I leave the day after tomorrow. It may be useless, but I cannot help but hold hope that you will change your mind.”
Ardeth opened his mouth to reply, but a blood-curdling scream in the night severed further conversation with Irisi, when it fractured its way through the door.
----
Her mother fought with all her strength, but THEY were bigger, stronger. A mere moment before they had burst into the room, Raja’s mother hurried her into a bureau, telling her to stay put no matter what. The little Egyptian saw everything from the small space between the two doors. Her mother had a dagger in her hand, using the skills she had learned from her brothers and father.
One of THEM easily held her back, her arms pinned behind her. Another punched her in the stomach, causing her to double over as the air rushed from her lungs. The man behind her shoved her to the ground. She got to her knees, hand against her stomach, cradling the pain, but she was kicked again, pushed on her back.
The struggling was fierce, but her mother was punched in the head, her arms held in a vise above her head. One of THEM sliced her dress in half, bearing her body. Raja wanted to help her mother, and was about to leave her safety when her mother cried out in Sarmatian for her to stay put, do not come out, stay there, Raja! her mother had screamed.
Raja huddled in the small space, her fists to her face, stifling her whimpers as one of THEM sprung his venomous snake from his pants, plunging it violently into her mother. Her mother gritted her teeth, struggling some more until she was hit in the face again. Her head moved to the side from the impact. Her body was being jostled up and down from the force of the rape. Tears streamed down Raja’s face as she shook furiously. Bile rose in her throat.
The man finished, and his snake was shiny. Another man was touching his own snake as he stood over her mother, and a glop of poison spurted from the snake’s mouth, landing on her mother’s chest. Her mother was nearly unconscious, bloodied, bruised, beaten. Each of THEM took their turns, and Raja could feel the life leaving her mother’s body. As she was violated, one of them had his forearm against her mother’s neck. Her mother’s eyes seemed to lock on Raja’s and Raja saw her mouth move: Stay there, Raja. Stay...
Her mother’s eyes lolled back in her head, and Raja could stay put no longer. She burst from the bureau, arms outstretched...screaming for her mother...screaming...
Ardeth tried to soothe her, holding her back from whatever it was she was seeing. She kicked her legs, bawling for her mother. Her arms were grabbing for something, hot tears poured down her face.
Irisi watched from the door, hands over her mouth in horror. She shooed her ladies away, who were just as terrified as she.
Her screams were so loud that it even drew the attention of the knights, who normally let it be, for Ardeth could placate her. But this time, it was too much. They only stood for a mere moment, then gave each other looks of worry and sorrow for the girl. Lancelot winced, and hurried away before any of the others.
Tristan glanced at Irisi, clad only in her robe.
“Is it always this terrible?” she asked him, completely shaken.
“Yes,” he said, before closing Raja’s door and walking away, leaving Irisi in the hall.
Inside, the little girl still struggled in her uncle’s arms, choking on her sobs, raspy inhalations of breath rushing in and out. He sang to her, holding her tightly. She continued to cry out for her mother, reaching for something only she could see. Though the volume of her yells died down, her tears still streamed in torrents.
It took painstaking hours to get her to stop crying, by then her face was hot and clammy. He laid her on the bed and rubbed a cool cloth over her face. Her pupils were so wide that only a sliver of silver surrounded the black pools of emptiness.
She whispered, “Walida, walida...” After a time, she began to ask for her baba. She looked right through her uncle as she spoke: “I want walida. Where is she?” When he did not answer right away, her face melted, crumpled, caved in with unfathomable suffering that his heart clenched.
He stayed with her all night, she did not sleep. Raja whispered for her mother and father until her voice was a hoarse croak. When dawn came, he gave her a cool bath, hoping to alleviate her fever. It helped somewhat, but her face remained flushed. He tucked her in, noting the dark circles under her eyes that had not lost their unawareness. Although sunlight beamed into the room, it did nothing to drive away the darkness that surrounded Raja. Finally, her tiny voice called out for her uncle.
“I am right here, little one,” he said softly, taking her hands that had reached out for his.
“Uncle,” she said, her eyes flittering around the room.
He steadied her head. “I am right here, Raja.”
“Na’am,” she said distantly, gripping his hands with all the strength she could muster.
When the time came for Irisi to depart, she saw that his attention was not really focused on her. Her heart heavy, she kissed him goodbye, leaving him to tend to his niece.
Ardeth was a constant presence with Raja for the next several days. He managed to spoon-feed her some broth, and herbal sedatives. She slept fitfully, waking up, confounded as to where she was, all she knew was her uncle, though at times she questioned him for her mother and father, and each time, her face crumpled in agony. Ten days later she reached a calm clarity, her focus becoming keen. The men visited her for brief intervals, she did not speak, confused by their words anyway. She just liked them to hold her hands and sit with her.
But when Lancelot came into her room one day, her demeanor changed. An alertness overwhelmed her, something that made him pause.
“Baba!” she cried out. Raja sat up in bed and grabbed for Lancelot. “Baba!”
A chill went down his spine as he backed up. “No, Raja,” he managed to say.
“Baba,” she repeated. She titled her head to the side when he said no. “Na’am.”
Lancelot swallowed a lump in his throat. “I’m Lancelot.” Then he realized that that wouldn’t help as her father’s name was Lancelot, too. He silently pleaded that someone else would come into the room, Ardeth said he would be back momentarily.
Her small hand grasped for his, tears filling her eyes. When she said nothing, he sat down slowly, taking her hand. She turned it over, looking at the back, then the front. She traced the lines on his palm, then brought his hand to her cheek. “La,” she said, patting his hand gently.
He understood ‘no’.
“Lottie,” she said. “Ibnom. I understand.” Raja looked up from Lancelot’s hand when her uncle walked into the room. “Ibnom,” she patted Lancelot’s hand to show her uncle.
Ardeth noticed Lancelot’s pale face. “Yes, Lancelot is your cousin.”
Raja gave a small smile, her eyes lighting on her cousin’s. He cleared his throat roughly. He was grateful when Ardeth procured a good excuse for Raja so he could leave. He gave her a hug, receiving a kiss on the cheek.
----
The next day, Ardeth and Raja made a short trek outside so she could stretch her muscles. The only time she let go of his hand was when she bent down to pick a flower. Ardeth found her tiny vases for each flower she had picked.
Raja knocked on Tristan’s door. When he answered, he grumbled when she held up the vase. She walked her way around him and set the object on his bedside table. She scrunched her face in concentration, the tip of her tongue sticking out between her lips.
“That won’t do,” she mumbled as she moved the vase once again. After a minute or so, she finally had it where she thought it looked just right. “Don’t look like that, Trissy. Lancelot was pouting, too. But I think he was angry about something else.”
Tristan’s mind went back to that morning when Bors mentioned the fact that Dagonet had spent a good, long night with Irisi’s ladies. Lancelot had been disbelieving at first, but the avoidant gaze of Dagonet confirmed what Bors had said.
“This is pretty,” Raja said.
Despite the wan pallor of her skin, the dark circles under her eyes, she seemed genuinely pleased.
“My room smells like flowers now,” he snipped.
“Of course!” she exclaimed, unrepentant.
He murmured curses under his breath.
Raja clasped onto his hand and squeezed, affirming an irrevocable bond. “Don’t snivel, Trissy.”
Meanings:
Na’am: yes
La: no
Ibnom: cousin
Habeeb: beloved
Baba: daddy/father
Walida: mommy/mother