The Healer's Warrior Read Online Free PDF Page A

her. And so, since he was not close to any woman except his late mother and Bahja, it had never happened. Many men womanized to convince themselves and others of their power, but to Tareq it only proved that their weakness was women.
    The philosophy Tareq learned as both a warrior and as the son of the King of Samhia was this: Once you show weakness, they will know how to destroy you. That was his approach to most people, especially women.
    However, Tareq did trust Jem’ya. His health was literally in her hands. His father didn’t know about Tareq’s condition. The King thought Tareq took long baths and spent some days in bed because he was lazy. Jem’ya knew which muscles in his body were weakest from the pain. She knew his flaw. Tareq trusted her completely to take care of him.
    It suddenly dawned on Tareq that the gift he gave to Jem’ya this morning was a sign of weakness. His jaw tightened. He was not careful enough when it came to Jem’ya.
    The fact was that what he felt during battle was what he felt at the Coast. It wasn’t as intense, but it was there. His heart did drum a little quicker and his body and mind were more alive. At Jem’ya’s he felt serene and untouchable, but, unlike after battle, there was no guilt when he returned home, only lingering contentment.
    Tareq bit at the tip of his tongue, watching the rain pelt his family’s kingdom.
    There were things in life that could never be, so it was a waste of time to want them. He and Jem’ya were from two very different worlds. They lived opposing lives that Tareq knew could never peacefully come together.

 
     
    CHAPTER TWO
     
     
     
    Jem’ya’s heart swelled with joy as her village came into view. It had taken five days and four nights, three carriage rides and two camel rides, to get to the country of Rwuja and finally to Tikso . She was exhausted but the sight of her family and friends in the near distance energized her. A group of women weaving baskets noticed her and her camel. Jem’ya was too far away to identify them. She made a high-pitched call to let them know she was family. “ Keeeeeyah !”
    She grinned as the women stood and people stepped out of huts. “ Keeeeeyah !” she called again and tapped the camel with her heel so it would start a faster pace.
    “ Yehyehyehyehyeh !” the small crowd began to call back, whistling and waving their arms excitedly.
    Jem’ya wiped the sweat from her forehead and wondered if she’d ever be accustomed to the dry heat in Rwuja again. She’d grown used to the constant cool air from the sea. A crowd surrounded her camel as she entered the village.
    The women of Tikso styled their hair in beaded braids or a simple bun, wore short red sarongs around their waists, and a wide oval shaped necklace made of black cloth designed with hundreds of red and brown beads. The necklace covered the women’s breasts and was worn for its aesthetic, not out of shame for their bodies. The people in Tikso were nowhere near as sensitive as the people in the North, where a woman is made to feel ashamed to even show too much of her face in public. To Jem’ya those rules were just the creations of perverted and paranoid men who were punishing women for being their greatest weakness. In Tikso , Jem’ya was glad to feel comfortable in her body and in her skin. She wanted to change out of her long dress as soon as she could.
    The men wore black cloths that had splits at each hip. They wore their hair in short twists or braids and wore chokers constructed with beads made of polished animal bone.
    Jem’ya came down from the camel and unstrapped a large black knapsack from the saddle. She greeted everyone, holding hands with her extended family and touching foreheads with her very good friends and close family. “Welcome home, ZeeZee ,” they teased.
    ZeeZee or Zee was her nickname, short for chimpanzee. She was born the only person in the entire village that had ears that stuck out rather than laying back. Her