It was beyond foolish, what she was doing. Shani knew that. She was risking everything...her job, her freedom, her life.
All for a bath.
But not two hours ago she'd been shoulder deep in a bay mare's birth canal, struggling to turn the foal and she smelled like it. But both mare and foal were thriving, thanks to her Master's quick thinking and Shani's small arms.
Shani tried to limit her trips to the oasis to new moons and dark, cloudy nights. But tonight the moon was half full and only partially obscured by drifting clouds. The desert sky was twinkling with millions of stars, shining like the Sheikh's bejeweled tack. Only necessity drove her to take such risks.
With her precious sliver of goat's milk soap clenched in one hand and a small dagger in the other, she crept around the palm trees, timing her steps with the cloud cover, darting from shadow to shadow until she reached the water's edge. There she slowed and stripped, eyes darting from shadow to shadow.
Shani eased into the chilly water, careful not to splash and draw the attention of one of the guards on night watch. This was going to be a quick wash. Already, her teeth began to chatter. She splashed and soaped her body, cleaning away blood, dirt, horse hair and other smelly detritus and feeling markedly more human. She unwrapped her turban at the last minute and unwound her braided hair. After cleaning the rest of her body so thoroughly, it felt sinful to leave the sweaty locks unclean.
The hot, tangled mass tumbled down her back to her waist, and she spent a few more frigid moments washing, rinsing and oiling her hair. It wasn't her favorite jasmine fragrance, but the spicy oil the men used. It helped her hide better.
"Ajay! Where are you, boy?"
Her Master's call sent a bolt of fear through Shani. She scrambled for her clothing, frantically pulling it on. He was too close! What was he doing out here?
The moon chose that moment to peek out from behind the clouds. Reflecting off the water, it illuminated the entire oasis. Shani saw the moment her Master saw her, half dressed and dripping in the moonlight.
He moved a few steps forward, hand going for his blade. Shani then saw, in perfect clarity, the moment he figured it out. Shock froze his bold features, then anger and some other emotion brightened his eyes and cheeks.
She forgot she was indecent, breasts still exposed, forgot how to breathe, forgot that she should be running, taking her chances in the desert instead of facing the sheikh's wrath, until her Master said something.
"Ajay?" His eyes darted from her face to the rest of her, staring a moment too long. She started dressing quickly, her skin flushing red. "Yes, the build is the same. And the face. What's your given name?"
She'd been this man's assistant for five years, living in close quarters, working and eating together daily. She knew his moods and temperament better than she knew her own. Why was she frightened? Why couldn't she speak? He knew Ajay, but Ajay was a man, with liberties and rights. She was now a dead woman walking.
He took a step forward, his frown severe. "I asked you a question and expect an answer, woman."
Shani flinched but managed to whisper her name.
"Shani," he rolled her name on his tongue, like tasting a fresh cup of coffee and nodded to himself.
An unusual flutter went through her at the sound of her name on his lips, one she'd felt more and more around him. She should have left when the flutters first started, but he was the fairest master she'd had thus far. Now, it appeared her luck had run out.
"You know I have to take you to the sheikh. My position demands it." Shani shook her head and took a step back, ready to plead her case or run, if the situation warranted it. "You know that impersonating a man is a death sentence." She took another step back, he took two forward. His eyes held hers, capturing her like a flute charms a cobra. "But I can help you."
"How?" The question came out without her permission and he smiled, fishing in his robe for a few seconds then holding up a leather thong. It looked like a broken rein.
"I can take you before the sheikh and he'll have you stoned at dawn. I'll be out an assistant and you'll be dead. Or," he was too close now, smelling of horse, and sweat, and spice, close enough for Shani to feel the heat of him. She hadn't realized he'd moved. "Or you could become my wife. The choice is yours."
Shani couldn't breathe. Death or marriage? Both were permanent sentences, though one could be a much longer source of misery for her. But she knew her Master, didn't she? He was kind and patient to the sheikh's horses, never drinking to excess or prone to violent outbursts. But a woman had far less value than a horse...
She held out her hand in response, her jaw set, determined to survive another night. She would run if she had to. She'd done it before. Her Master shook his head. "I need to hear you say the words."
Shani took a deep breath and forced the words to sound firm. "I will be your wife... on one condition."
"If it is in my power to give, it is yours," he smiled. His rough hand closed around hers. Shani fought the urge to pull away. She wondered if she could. "Consider it a wedding gift."
It was Shani's turn to smile. "I want to remain your assistant, Ajay, throughout the day. I love the work and the animals. It is why I donned the disguise in the first place. In exchange, I will be an obedient, submissive wife at night."
