Revenge of the Mad Scientist (Book One: Airship Adventure Chronicles) (26 page)

Rett raised one brow at her reaction.

She just threw her hands up and followed the cheering crowd holding Benji above their heads.

###

They were shown to individual tents and given offerings of clothing, jewelry, food and drink. Belle sank down on the rugs that covered the sand, surrounded by plump pillows. She looked at the food on the small table beside her and picked up some of the dates, popping them into her mouth. She sank back among the cushions, sighing at the comfort.

“Belle, Belle,” a voice sounded from a distance and someone shook her arm.

She struggled up to a sitting position and blinked several times, realizing she had dozed off in her cushion nest.

“Belle, can you believe this?”

Finally she focused Benji’s face.

“Benji?”

“Yes. Bloody hell, Belle, what happened to you?” His eyes narrowed in concern.

She rubbed her eyes. “I’m fine. I must have fallen asleep. What’s going on?”

Benji gestured out with his arms. “This is the most brilliant thing you can imagine. They gave me an enormous tent and all sorts of girls as servants. They’re practically tripping over each other to wait on me. I’ve never been so diverted in my whole life.”

Belle found a clay jug and poured what appeared to be fruit juice into a cup. She took a sip, finding it both sweet and tart, but deliciously refreshing. Then she gave Benji her attention. He’d dressed in the attire of the tribe; black tunic and pants with brown leather boots to his knees and a blue and green sash around his waist. Straps and buckles held his dagger, a sword and a pistol. She took a deep breath.

“Benji, what are they planning?”

“They have a ceremony that will take place tonight along with a big feast to celebrate the return of the blade. Solmin told me after it was stolen twenty years ago, the tribe has had nothing but bad luck. They think having it back will change their fortune.” He grinned. “Did you ever imagine such a thing would happen when you bought this dagger in Cross Roads?”

“No, I must say I did not. But I’m hoping they may be able to help us.”

“Yes, of course. Solmin told me they have an idea of a way into the citadel.”

“Really? Oh Benji, I hope they do. I was afraid after we came all this way there would be no way to reach my father.”

“Don’t worry, Belle.” He placed a hand on her arm. “We’ll find a way in.”

He glanced around the tent then said somewhat sheepishly, “I told them you were my mother. I hope you don’t mind. That makes you like the queen-mother or something.”

She didn’t know what to say at first. Certainly she wasn’t old enough to be his mother, but at the same time it was endearing that he should want such a thing. “I don’t mind.”

A grin spread over his face. “Thank you, Belle. You know, I have a feeling this is going to be an adventure of a lifetime.”

She nodded and sipped the juice. No doubt about that. Outside the tent, a stringed instrument picked out a haunting melody. Soon, other instruments picked up the tune and then were joined by the rhythm of drums beating a pulsing rhythm. A woman entered the tent carrying an armful of clothing.

“Kefmam, I have garments for you to wear to the ceremony,” she said. She laid them across an ottoman, then proceeded to pour water into a large basin and lay out towels for Belle to use in cleaning up.

“I have to go. I’ll see you at the ceremony,” Benji said. He stood up and held out a hand to lift her to her feet.

He looked down for a moment then whispered in her ear, “I wish you
had
been my mother.”

Before she could respond, he hurried out of the tent and left her alone. Tears welled in her eyes, but she couldn’t let such a sweet statement make her sad.

She chose the green and blue striped tunic and long swinging skirt, tying the tasseled leather strip around her waist. The woman returned and offered to apply her makeup, which consisted of black eyeliner with a gold sparkling paste she painted on her eyelids. She crushed small red berries in a bowl and rubbed the paste onto Belle’s lips. Then she threaded a string of gold coins among Belle’s long auburn tresses.

The woman made the strange hooting sound and led her out of the tent by the hand, shouting words Belle did not recognize. The rest of the tribe gathered around an immense bonfire in the center of the tent village. The crowd gave a shout of approval when she appeared and cheered her as she walked across the sand. She smiled and waved a hand, feeling ridiculous.

She searched through the mass of moving bodies to find Benji sitting on a raised platform covered with thick rugs, leaning back on a bank of pillows. Very regal. Solmin sat on one side of him and a beaming Armani on the other. She was dressed in a similar outfit to Belle’s with the addition of a headband of silver coins on her head. Her black hair hung loose about her shoulders.

Good lord, they were like children playing king and queen with their adoring subjects egging them on. The Mandagol acted truly ecstatic about the return of the dagger and held nothing back in showing their approval of their new Kef. Off to the right, stood Sam, Jasper and Rett also in new tribal clothing of tunics, loose pants and knee high boots. Sashes tied around their waists held daggers and pistols. Rett caught her eye and raised a hand. She weaved through the crowd to join them.

“All hail the queen mum,” Rett said laughing.

“Stuff it,” she replied, but she couldn’t stop her lips twitching at their absurd situation.

“Here, have some wine.” Sam handed her a silver cup and she took it gratefully.

As the sun fell and alcohol flowed, the celebration intensified. Wood added to the bonfire sent orange flames and yellow sparks into the air. Solmin rose and raised a gak horn to his lips. The deep throaty sound bellowed out across the camp and the revelers fell silent.

“Fellow Mandagols. For thousands of years we have roamed these sands and lived our lives as independent people. We were led by the dagger and our lives prospered.” Some cheers erupted but Solmin raised a hand.

“Through an act of betrayal, the dagger was stolen from us.” Shouts of anger accompanied this proclamation. “Then we suffered. Our crops and animals died. Our children became sick with a strange illness and many died. Rival tribes attacked us and carried off our women.”

Solmin motioned to Benji who came to his feet. “But the dagger has returned to us, praise God.”

Benji raised the dagger high over his head to the deafening shouts and cries of the tribe. Benji glanced down at Belle and grinned.

After several minutes when the cheers had died down, Solmin continued. “Now the Mandagol can return to our former glory. We give the dagger our blood and our promise to serve it. We commit our lives serving each other and defeating our enemies.”

The cheers broke out again and people lined up at the platform. Each one stepped forward and solemnly took the dagger and made a cut on their arm. Even the children participated, eager and unafraid. Drums beat a steady rhythm as the line of people passed by the blade, giving their blood.

“Can you believe this?” Rett whispered.

“The dagger has a lot a meaning to them,” Belle said as the joyful people wiped their blood on a white banner with the Mandagol tribal symbol painted on it.

When all the Mandagol had given their blood, the real celebration started. The music and drum sounds soared into the night, the rhythm increasing, pounding and intense. People danced around the bonfire, leaping and cheering. The women released their long hair from their braids and the strands whipped around their bodies as they twirled and stomped their feet.

Soon some of the tribe came to the platform laughing and tugging on Belle and the others until they joined the crowd. The fire of wine in her blood and the pounding beat of the drums led Belle to join in the steps of the women around her. Crazy laughter welled up in her chest as her feet pounded the sand and she spun around, arms in the air. The bodies of the tribe pressed together, sweaty skin rubbing against sweaty skin, she couldn’t escape it.

She caught glimpses of her companions among the dancers. Even rigid Jasper bounced up and down in time to the drum beats. A wild laugh escaped her lips. She imagined what it would be like if staid, proper Aereopolis saw her now, dancing in abandon, hair spilling wildly around her shoulders. Now
this
was a ball. She tilted her head back and laughed again, loving the freedom of the moment.

A hand ran up her arm, sending a shiver through her and she turned. Rett. Sweat beaded on his face and his eyes flashed in the firelight. His body pushed into hers, thrust by the dancers, and he put an arm around her waist to keep her from falling backwards.

They moved together, circling the bonfire following the flow of the others. She could feel the hardness of his muscles pressed against her breasts. His strong arms encircled her and kept her upright. Their gazes locked and her heart pounded in her chest. The dancers around them touched and kissed each other, celebrating life and the joy of having the dagger among them.

The heady atmosphere enveloped them all in a sense of unreality. They were in a moment out of time when nothing mattered but the sparks in the darkness, the reverberations of the drums in their veins, and the heat of bodies pressed together.

Rett’s arm moved from her waist and his hand snaked around her neck, fingertips stroking her skin. He searched her face and then lowered his head until his forehead was against hers. The breath left her chest as his lips met hers, hot and searching. Allowing the kiss was crazy, and she didn’t care. Her arms wound around his neck of their own volition and her fingers stroked the hair at his nape. Other women called to her in approval.

Men lifted women up on their shoulders and the women joined hands, laughing and pulling each other around. A few couples toppled over and they laughingly rolled out of the dancing mass then hurried away with their arms around each other. Then a few more fell. Belle realized it was a ritual. Those pulled over who fell, were out of the dance and it wasn’t like losing because it meant they could leave and go back to their tents and…

Panic washed over her. All the fun and abandon left her in a swoop of chilling dread. She pushed against Rett’s chest, forcing him to release her. He laughed until he focused on her face. She ran from the circle of dancers leaving him standing in their midst staring after her.

She rushed to her tent, heat flaming her face and her breath coming in gasps. Oh, God, what had she done? That stupid dance and the wine. Too much wine. She had let Rett kiss her and she had actually kissed him back. God! What an idiot she was. How could she have let something like that happen? Embarrassment flushed her in a hot wave.

She collapsed on the bed of pillows and pounded one with her fists. No, no, no! She could not let him hurt her again. She burst into tears. All the despair of the trip, fear for her father, and unresolved pain of the past washed over her in wracking sobs. It took several minutes for the emotion to flow out of her as she pressed her face into one of the pillows and pushed all thoughts of Rett from her mind.

Chapter 17

Rett rolled over on the rug and groaned. His head throbbed and his mouth was as dry as the desert. He struggled to sit up, knocking pillows right and left. A pitcher on a nearby table held a cool refreshing juice. He drank from the jug instead of using a cup, letting the coolness run down his throat.

After quenching his thirst he looked around the tent and it appeared to be empty. Seems Sam had found another place to sleep last night. Ahh, last night. He fell back on the pillows as flashes of the evening passed through his mind. God, Belle! He’d kissed her and she’d seemed to like it at first. What happened? She’d run off with no explanation.

That kiss was not comparable in any way to the chaste pecks they had exchanged during their young engagement. The kiss last night was hot and full of passion. His body responded to the memory and he shifted uncomfortably. Damn it. Clearly she didn’t want that sort of relationship. But he wasn’t imagining how she’d responded initially. Maybe she still didn’t trust him. Could he blame her?

He cursed and stood up, weaving on his feet until his head cleared. Then he noticed a lump of clothing on the far side of the tent.

“Sam?” he called. The bundle moved and moaned.

“Hey mate, time to rise and shine,” he said as he poured water into a basin and splashed it on his face. “Come on, get up and let’s go check on
Gambit
.”

The body beneath the clothes moved and he burst out laughing as Jasper’s head emerged. The butler’s face appeared a bit green and pasty. Rett poured a cup of juice and handed it to him.

“Thank you.” Jasper squinted at Rett. “Where am I exactly?”

“I’ll break it down for you, mate. The good news is, you’re alive. You’re in Carabarras, in a tent. Remember?”

“Ohh.” Jasper put a hand to his head and drained the juice cup. “Dear God! Lady Arabella?”

Rett frowned. “She’s fine. Don’t worry.”

They were interrupted when a woman came in bearing a tray of food and a pot of some type of steaming beverage. She gave Jasper a suggestive look over her shoulder and giggled before she left. Jasper turned red under his pasty green pallor, much to Rett’s amusement.

Rett poured two cups of the hot liquid and handed one to Jasper who finally stood up. Several sashes and filmy women’s scarves were draped around his neck and he had to unwind them to be able to move. He divested himself of the tokens, looking even more embarrassed, and came over to the tray, a little unsteady on his feet.

“I fear I may have participated in a bit of impropriety,” Jasper said.

Rett chuckled. “Don’t worry. The whole camp was with you.”

Jasper looked only slightly relieved and picked up a toasted roll stuffed with meat and took a bite. “That’s hardly reassuring. I can only hope Lady Arabella did not find my behavior reason to cast me off.”

“You can always get a job as King Benji’s valet.” Rett laughed.

“I’m afraid such a position would be quite beneath me.” Jasper sniffed. “A butler is hardly on the same level as a mere valet.”