"I agree," her Uncle Honoré said more slowly. "Perhaps it would be too dangerous for you, my dear."
Dangerous perhaps, Alysson thought, yet she couldn't allow that to dissuade her. If she could possibly gain their freedom by meeting the challenge the khalifa had laid out, she owed it to her uncle to try. If only Jafar would allow her the opportunity.
"Even so, I would like the chance to try and kill the lion," she declared, endeavoring to keep her voice steady.
She saw a muscle in Jafar's jaw flex, before he disciplined his expression into unreadabiiity. "The beast has already killed one woman. The risk would be too great."
Oddly, it was the Khalifa Ben Hamadi who took her side.
"But you have heard from her own lips, sidi," the general pressed, "that she is skilled at the hunt. Would you deny her the opportunity to win her freedom?"
Yes! Jafar wanted desperately to answer, even as he admired the khalifa's masterful attempt at forcing his hand. Ben Hamadi did not approve of his holding Alysson and her uncle prisoner, Jafar knew. The general had not said so directly, yet in a veiled accusation just this morning, he'd expressed surprise at Jafar's unusual reticence to resolve the problem of the Englishwoman, especially since there was no longer a need to keep her captive.
Of course Ben Hamadi would not insult him by condemning his action outright, but with the wisdom and cunning that had made the khalifa one of Abdel Kader's most trusted lieutenants, Ben Hamadi had now publicly proposed the conditions for Alysson's release—a proposal that would be difficult for him to refuse, Jafar reflected. He had sworn his allegiance to Abdel Kader and thus to his khalifa. Besides, what reasonable grounds did he have for continuing to hold Alysson hostage, other than his own selfish desires?
Jafar felt his hand clench involuntarily in a fist. For weeks now, he'd refused to face the tormenting possibility of losing her. But now it was no longer a mere possibility.
With a sickening sense of powerlessness, he recalled an old Berber adage. A wild bird could be caught and placed in a cage, but it would only fly away at the first opportunity, never to return. He could keep Alysson captive for a while longer, perhaps indefinitely. But in the end, the decision whether to stay or to leave belonged to her. The choice had to be hers.
After all he had done to her, he owed her that much. If Alysson were to remain here with him, she had to do so because she truly wished it, not because he forced her.
And it seemed that she did not wish it.
"I would welcome the chance to earn our freedom," she said again quietly.
Deliberately, slowly, Jafar forced himself to uncurl his fist. "Very well," he said at length, his voice low and toneless. "It will be your decision."
Honoré looked at her first with concern, then dawning elation as he realized their chance for freedom was at hand. But Alysson could not share her uncle's delight. She felt as if a giant hand were crushing her heart.
Jafar returned her gaze, his features cold and withdrawn. It was as if they were the only two people in the room, a room that had turned wintry and bleak. Wanting to shiver, Alysson stared helplessly into his cool amber eyes. Their aloofness was cruel, their indifference chilling.
The Khalifa Ben Hamadi broke the silence between them. "Good," he observed with satisfaction. "Then it is settled. If Miss Vickery can kill the lion, she and her uncle may go free."
They set off within hours to hunt the ezim, while it was still daylight. There was no reason to wait. The lion was a nocturnal animal that normally preyed at night, so die principal time for hunting the beast was at night.
By now, Alysson expected, the creature they sought would have retreated to higher ground. But they could use the remaining daylight to locate the vicinity of its mountain lair, and when the full moon rose later, there would be ample light by which to hunt. Then she would take the field alone, with a single attendant to carry ammunition and an extra gun.
She did not underestimate the danger. The lion was man's most fearsome adversary, with a roar like thunder that could petrify its victims with fear. If it perceived itself in danger, it would turn and attack against even fatal odds. According to her Uncle Oliver, a lion rarely preyed on humans unless it was exceedingly hungry, or was provoked, or was weakened by age or illness and was too feeble to hunt stronger game. But this beast had already killed one woman. Alysson was glad for Jafar's company. She would have made the expedition by herself, but Jafar would not hear of her going alone.
She glanced over at him as he rode beside her on his fiery bay stallion. His face was closed and shuttered, his eyes devoid of all emotion but a steely determination. She shivered, whether from the December coid or from Jafar's chilling distance, she wasn't certain.
Behind her, Saful maintained a respectful length with his own mount. To her surprise, Saful had volunteered for the job of accompanying her on the hunt. Perhaps, Alysson suspected, because the young warrior felt it necessary to make up for his lapse in letting her escape several weeks ago. No doubt he was still smarting from shame because he, a man, had been bested by a mere female.
Beside Alysson, Jafar was thinking similar thoughts as he silently wrestled with his own conscience, it went against every masculine principal, every chivalrous nerve in his body, to allow a woman to risk her life. Especially this woman. The thought of Alyssos feeing such danger made his blood run cold.
Jafar's gaze found the defiant young beauty who was the cause of his torment. What would she say if he professed his love for her, if he begged her to stay? If he asked her to give up her family, her entire way of life? To risk her future with only the promise of uncertainty and war in exchange? What would she say if he asked her to watch him marry another woman first? To have another woman's sons take precedent before her own? That was all he could offer her.
Unless he stepped down. Unless he left his tribe, his entire way of life. Unless he gevs up everything he had strived for. Only then could he claim her as he wanted to do, as she deserved.
Jafar closed his eyes against the anguish and helplessness inside him. Was he actually thinking such treasonous thoughts?
He gave a silent, bitter laugh, filled with self-mockery. The khalifa had seen the danger Alysson presented, a danger that he himself had refused to admit, Jafar realized. She was his weakness, his vulnerability. She alone had the power to make him betray his duty, his people. She could make him forsake everything he had struggled for. All it would take was one ward from her and he would actually consider stepping down. He would contemplate sacrificing honor and duty. If Alysson were to show the slightest inclination to stay, he might very well throw away his past, his future, his allegiance to his country.
Except for her physical response to his lovemaking, though, she'd given no indication that she wanted anything more from him. Her physical response at least he was certain of. He'd shown her the kind of blinding passion that poets exalted but that few mortals ever attained. For a brief time he might even have made her forget her love for Bourmont. But when she returned to her own civilization, that love would rekindle. She would find happiness in his enemy's arms, among her own people.
And he couldn't deny her that chance.
That bleak reflection occupied Jafar's mind to the exclusion of nearly all else as the day waned.