Maliha

Maliha had a sense of Deja vu as the crown of flowers slapped down onto her pallet. Her mind was disoriented. She felt as if she had been in this moment with Ujarak before but that couldn’t be true and yet the feeling did not go away, even as he prowled towards her with a dark look that matched his much darker skin.

“I said what is this?”

Ujarak’s words lashed against her skin in a harsh swipe.

“You’re back.” She gasped.

Her mind struggled to grasp that Ujarak was back and standing inside her tent like he belonged there. As if he owned the place.

“What are you doing here?”

The air between them pulsed angrily as his fists clenched around nothing.

“If you came to see Enzo, he isn’t here.” She muttered wearily.

He was vexed, his jaw ticking with suppressed anger that was pulsing from his body in choking waves.

“I know where Enzo is, I have seen him already.”

Maliha didn’t know what else to say. She was still trying to recover from the shock of finding Ujarak here, in her tent, weeks earlier than anyone had anticipated.

All of a sudden, the tribe’s behaviour throughout the day began to make sense to her. The happy song that had been swirling in the air had been at the knowledge that their warriors would be returning. How had she missed the signs?

“Maliha,” he huffed in exasperation when she still didn’t respond to his questions.

“What are you doing with this?”

“It’s a fahaj,” she shrugged. “I made it.”

“I know what this is, and I know what this is for.” He spat, looking at the flower crown with such disgust and disdain.

“I want to know what you are doing with it?”

Maliha’s mouth hung open and then snapped shut. The answer as to why she had it was so easy, she had the fahaj because she had been preparing for the moment that Kamir would make his move with Xiuri and yet, Ujarak was looking at her as if there was more to the flower band than what it was. It was a personal gift from Maliha to Ciur and Saralec had ground the ingredients ma Lou’s had gathered to make the Mayam oil that Xiuri and Kamir would need to bathe their skin in, but this was from her.

“Is this for him?” Ujarak growled, sneering down at the incomplete crown of flowers with distaste.

“For who, Ujarak?”

Maliha felt that she was missing something that would have been obvious to her on any other day, but her mind was still reeling from the events of the day. So much had happened and it wasn’t even sundown. She was fatigued, mentally exhausted and confused. Her mind could not comprehend anything but bluntly stated words.

“I saw you Maliha!”

His tone was accusatory as he spoke in riddles that Maliha’s tired mind could not comprehend. He moved from one topic to the next, yet there seemed to be only one answer he sought.

“I saw you with him and I refuse to do it,” He gritted.

“If you think I will perform this ceremony then you are wrong!”

His voice thundered louder as just the thought enraged him. He was livid, absolutely raging mad but that would be his downfall because Maliha wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I am Razi here.” His fist pumped across his chest with such importance it turned Maliha’s stomach.

“And no hand fasting will happen without my participation.”

Maliha’s head hurt with anger, her hands shook as tears gathered in her eyes.

Who was his man?

For a moment, she had genuinely missed him, truly missed him and seeing him again had brought butterflies deep in her stomach and then he had to speak. The moment he opened his mouth nothing, but dread and frustration gathered in the pit of her being because this was who he was. A spoilt child who could not make up his mind.

A child acting the part of an adult, who ran hot and cold but still demanded the world form her. Well no more.

“Maliha.” Desperation was heavy in his voice and so she gave him his answer.

Wiping away at the few stray tears that had glided down her cheeks, she felt no embarrassment that he would see her cry. She felt strong and resilient.

“I never thought you were a cruel man Ujarak.”

Her voice was weaker than she had anticipated but there was a haunted tone that held him riveted.

“I knew from the start you were fickle, maybe confused. I knew that you would hurt me because you felt encumbered by so much. I knew that.”

“Maliha” he pleaded.

“No.” Her head shook, as her hands wobbled

“I guessed these things about you before I ever knew you, but I never thought you would throw your weight around. I believed you to be fair, but you are adamant to prove how wrong I was about you.”

Her lips curled in disgust at him. She was angry, so angry. He had no right to ask these questions, no right to demand them of her. He had distorted the idea of him that she had held, he had shredded the honourable man that she thought he was. Every time she disliked or disapproved of his actions, she had been able to console herself with the fact that Ujarak always acted in a way that he thought was honourable. Every time he fought her or pushed her away, it was within reason but this? His behaviour was something she could not understand or justify.

“The fahaj isn’t mine-”

“Then whose, is it?” He interrupted.

He looked as if a weight had been removed from his shoulders and she hated the implication that her decisions affected him in such a large way.

“It doesn’t matter who it is for. All that matters, is that you decided you couldn’t be with me and now I am with someone else.”

Ujarak gritted his teeth as his large hands gripped his hair. He was all over the place. She had never seen him so unhinged and uncontrolled.

“What I do with my time is not your concern!”

The look in his eyes changed. His jaw clenched, and his shoulders straightened, the air pulsed in thick waves of wanting. She felt like a prey and this predator had just taken notice of her. He met her challenging stare with one of triumph.

He stared lasciviously at her body. Her fingers clenched at her hips in preparation for his attack, but he moved too fast.

He sprung off like a coil, one moment he was standing on the opposite side of the tent and the next he was in her face. Crowding her against the beam of her tent as his body aligned with hers.

His large hand gripped her chin, the rough callouses abrading against her delicate skin.

“I can’t help but care.” He murmured, his head lowering towards her face.

His lips brushed against hers in a kiss meant to conquer. He held nothing back as he ravaged her lips. One of his hands sunk into the shiny locks of her hair whilst the other gripped her back.

Her hands came up to his chest, her thumb glided against the rough material of his leather top.

At first Maliha was blinded by his loss, blinded by the pure longing conveyed in every stroke of his tongue.

He had her where he wanted her and at that thought her mind snapped open. Her hands pushed at his chest as blinding blue light shot out beneath her fingers. The air frazzled with singed fibres as Ujarak went flying backwards, crashing into the small chest that sat by the entrance of the tent.

Smoke swirled from his chest, as he lay flat on the floor in a dazed heap. Maliha’s body shook in fear, her feet rooted to the ground even though the urge to check his pulse roared through her mind

“Ujarak?” She whispered. Her skin became clammy the longer he lay there unmoving.

“Ujarak.” She repeated with more urgency.

As much as she had wanted him to stop kissing her she hadn’t wanted to kill the man.

She crouched down beside him and gently touched a bead of sweat that trickled from his forehead. His eyes shot open as her hand made contact with his skin.

“Der Feka,” the fuck. He groused.

“Sorry.” She shrugged.

Now that she knew Ujarak wasn’t dead and from the use of his language, he wouldn’t be dying anyone soon, Maliha could actually feel pride in her actions.

She slowly rose to her feet, quietly snickering to herself as Ujarak grumbled and huffed to a stand.

The dark fibres of his top were completely charred and some of the skin along his chest was slightly burnt skin. She grimaced at the rawness of his body, but she knew that Makula would likely have a tincture for the small wound.

“What was that Maliha?”

The pleasure that had lined his face during the kiss had disappeared into nothing but confusion and frustration.

Maliha had no true answer for Ujarak. She didn’t know what was happening. Her power was Churning out of control, rippling beneath her skin at all times. This morning had caused a shift inside her and now there was not a moment that she was unaware of the powers that lived within her being and so she lied.

“That was me showing you that I can defend myself.”

“From me?” He spat in shock.

“Yes, from you!” Her eyes rolled heavenwards in exasperation. “You are the only man who seems to take liberties with me Ujarak.”

He didn’t like the use of her words, didn’t like her tone of voice. She could see it so clearly in the way his eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared. Her words angered him, and his reactions pleased her. When had she become so petty, she did not know but she revelled in the feeling.

“Liberties? It was a kiss Maliha. We have kissed before.”

“Yes, but that was before everything.”

Before he had rejected her, before he had gone away and left her alone to truly think.

“It was before Ray’et.”

Jealously coated his skin green as red flames sparked from his palms.

“So, this is about him?”

“No, Ujarak. It’s about you. It has always been about you.” She huffed scornfully.

This was all about him. From the start, he had set the parameters of their relationship. Ujarak had told her what they could and couldn’t do. Where she would and wouldn’t live, how far they could go. He had been in control of everything, choosing when they would advance along in their relationship and when he would retreat. It was always about him.

Ujarak and his choices.

Well he had made his choice all those weeks ago and now he would learn to live with it.

She wasn’t Ray’et’s woman, but she wasn’t Ujarak’s either, she was her own female and she would be damned if this male thought to start a war over someone he had discarded. She would be no prize for Ujarak’s one sided battle between his rationale and his feelings.

“I’m not a toy for you to play with when you see another person take interest. I am a woman and I deserve more than what you have offered.”

An impenetrable look entered his darkening eyes and a sense of longing throbbed through Maliha. She felt her conviction wavering under his heated scrutiny.

“Maliha”

The sound of her name whispered earnestly along his tongue ripped her to shreds. His emotional behaviour absolutely desolated her.

“Just leave me alone” If you can’t offer me what I need.

She kept those final thoughts to herself. She kept them close to her heart where all of her young hopes and dreams had been stored and shredded apart bit by bit over time.

“What if I could offer more?”

Her heart quivered. She heard it splintering apart, her ears ringing with the sound of hope scraping at the surface of the wall she had erected against Ujarak. She felt her wall tremble at his stealthy attack but when the dust settled around her, her wall was still in place and it was easier for her to shoot down his empty promise before it could take wings.

Maliha couldn’t do that to Ray’et. She wouldn’t do that to him and she wouldn’t do that to herself. To take Ujarak’s words at face value would be allowing him to make a mockery of her.

His head shook in understanding, reading the unspoken words.

“You wouldn’t do that to him.” Such despair and anger filled his eyes, but they were not directed at her.

His head bowed in resignation before he left the tent. The flap waving in the stifling heat.

A deep sigh rattled from Maliha’s chest as she carried her basket to her bed and began fixing any flowers he had damaged and adding the final touches.

Her mind wasn’t in the act, but she forced herself to concentrate on the dark blue petals of the Lahi flower that glimmered like shards of gold. She focused on how the dark tips imitated the rich tone of Xiuri’s skin and how the flower stood out so boldly against the ivory white Camilia flower and the rich green Femi plant. The small hints of yellow from the root of the Mali flower brought the whole crown together.

It was how Maliha saw her friend. Strong and vibrant, bold and pure. It was all that Xiuri was and all she could be.

Maliha smiled longingly at the crown before tucking away the rest of the flowers into her basket and gathering the crown.

As she made the short journey to Xiuri’s tent, joy filled her heart and swallowed all the angst and bitter feelings that Ujarak’s return had caused.

The tent door was closed but the sounds from within carried so loud and high for all to hear. The laughter of females rang in the air like the chimes of change. Maliha’s heart swelled at the sweet sound of Xiuri’s giggling.

As Maliha pushed aside the flap and stepped over the threshold a loud gasp of awe splintered through the air and halted their laughter.

Xiuri’s dark eyes rose until she met Maliha’s teary eyes with a glassy stare of her own.

“What do you think?” Xiuri whispered, her skin glowing with pure joy.

“Oh Xiuri, you are so beautiful.” Maliha sobbed, shuffling further into the tent and sinking to the floor in front of her friend.

Maliha ached to touch Xiuri, to bring her friend into her embrace but she couldn’t for fear she would ruin all of Ciur and Miat’s hard work.

Xiuri’s skin glimmered with the speckles of gold oil that glimmered like the stars in the midnight sky. Swirling patterns of white, red, blues and gold were drawn along the raised ridges of Xiuri’s cheeks. Her hair was twisted up in an intricate web of plaits, loose curls, dyed leather ribbons and gold beads.

Her neck was adorned in gold as was her arm which was cuffed by a thick band of gold swirling patterns. Xiuri’s body was draped in the silkiest and thinnest strands of white material. The cloth was wrapped in a thin band over chest, twisted in the back in a neat bow and then fell around her hips in short folds of rippling material. The very end of the material was dyed with colours of blue, green and red to mark the first three tribes that had emerged from Solayka and Pathikyo’s joining.

“I have a gift for you.”

The females shuffled back further, the air crackling with their excitement at the gift that they knew Maliha would give to Xiuri.

Maliha brought her arm from a round her back and presented the crown to Xiuri.

There was a moment of stunned silent before a shuttered breath crooned form Xiuri’s lips.

“Oh Maliha.”

“Don’t cry.” Guffawed Ciur, but the pregnant female couldn’t hide the tears that were already dripping down her face.

Maliha shuffled forward and arranged the flower crown onto Xiuri’s head.

“Perfect.”

All the woman in the tent sighed their agreement as Xiuri looked in the mirror at her final appearance. She radiated beauty from the inside out.

“I didn’t expect this would happen, that Kamir would want me forever and I know you all helped him”

Xiuri’s gratitude touched every female in the room.

“You all helped me, especially you Maliha that is why I want you to be my Syha.”

Maliha couldn’t speak as she sobbed her agreement. Tears and snot running down her face as she cried with full abandonment.

To be someone’s Syha was one of the highest regards in a hand-fasting. It had been one part of the ceremony that Maliha hadn’t been fully aware of until the last moment. A Syha was the heart of the ceremony. Each couple would select a person who was deeply connected to them and that person would dance at the centre of the fire. Everyone would watch the Syha dance in reverence to their goddess.

Maliha would dance tonight in praise and thanks for the couple, each thud of her foot and wave of her hand would be a prayer that she sent up to Savuriya in hope that her dance would please the goddess and in turn, the goddess would bless the couple.

“Good.” Grunted Ciur. “I made an outfit just for you.”

Saralec snorted something but she spoke so rapidly, Maliha could not comprehend her words but she understood the look on their faces. The two females together meant trouble.

Maliha quickly changed into the short colourful dress and sat back down so the females could fight over what to do with her hair. They all agreed that it had to be out for when she danced but that was a far as they went.

Xiuri sat by smiling as Nahi, Ciur, Saralec and Miat all fussed over Maliha as if it were her wedding day.

“All she needs is some jewellery.” Muttered Nahi as they shoved a mirror into Maliha’s hand.

Her short hair was sectioned into tiny plaits at the front, hundreds of beads and ribbons interwoven within the strands. As she turned her head to see the rest of the style, her hair chimed, and the beads made a song of their own. She could only imagine the song her hair would make when she danced.

“Are you ready?” Called Darsan from the doorway.

Her hair was tied up with ribbons, beads and flowers and she had on an orange and yellow dress that Maliha had never seen on her before.

“Nearly. I need to speak to my sister,” replied Ciur, looking at everyone to move.

Maliha was the first to stand, encouraging all the nosey women to stand and leave with her.

She stood by tent and waited for all of her friends to leave before she closed the tent doors behind the two sisters.

Maliha quickly sent a prayer of thanks to Savuriya for making this happen before hurrying back to her tent.