The Sheikh’s Disobedient Bride(35)
With his servant’s help, he got the antidote in her, before inducing vomiting. After she’d thrown up, he gave her another dose of the antidote and then pumped as many liquids as he could get down her throat—not an easy feat considering she was oblivious to everything except the nightmare of pain that had swallowed her whole.
Even as he fought to save her, he pieced together the situation, needing to know who, what, where, how as quickly as he could. This wasn’t an accident. Someone had deliberately doctored her food and drink. But which of his men would do it, and why?
The doctor arrived at dawn, less than seven hours after Tally had been poisoned, arriving precisely the same time Tair discovered it was Ashraf who committed the crime.
Tair had Ashraf isolated and monitored but Tair couldn’t deal personally with him until after the doctor had seen Tally.
“The Devil’s Herb,” the doctor said, naming the toxic herb he suspected she’d ingested after checking her pulse, her eyes, and her tongue, as he prepared an injection.
Tair lifted the glass vial, checking the medicine the doctor was about to administer.
“It’s the fastest, best antidote for the central toxic effects.”
Tair nodded, still studying the bottle. The Devil’s Herb—belladonna—was extremely toxic, often fatal, death usually resulting from asphyxiation but the universal antidote seemed to have helped Tally. Now he just wanted to know she’d be okay.
“She’ll be sick for quite a while,” the doctor concluded, finishing administering the injection. “You’ll find that she’s restless, agitated. She’ll experience varying degrees of hallucinations, delirium, tremors, but she should get through.”
Should, Tair silently repeated, leaving Tally in the doctor’s care while he went to deal with Ashraf.
Tair gave Ashraf an opportunity to explain what he’d done and why, and Ashraf was all too happy to talk and Tair listened to Ashraf without interrupting him.
This was aboutsehour, Ashraf said, witchcraft. Tair hid his disgust as Ashraf talked. He couldn’t believe it. Not just poison, but witchcraft. His people were superstitious. But Ashraf was not at all repentant.
“I did not give her poison,” Ashraf said. “It’s apotion, a potion to drive her and the evil eye away. She will bring destruction on all of us if we don’t. She must go.”
“What have you been smoking?” Tair demanded shortly, stunned that it was Ashraf who had done this. Ashraf had served him well for years.
“She’s not Aisha Qandisha,” Tair added, referring to the mythical figure many of the people in the countryside believed existed.
Aisha Qandisha was reportedly a beautiful, seductive woman with the legs of a goat and she lived in riverbeds, in flames, and sandstorms. She is said to appear to men in dreams, enchanting them, enslaving them and children always fear her but Tally wasn’t a mythical figure, and he’d seen her legs—and they were far from goatlike.
But Ashraf had his own ideas and shook his head. “The sehirra gave me something to put in the Western woman’s food and drink. The sehirra said the woman will curse us, and she was right. She has brought trouble here.”
“She’s not right—”
“Look how the she writhes. She’s sick—”
“Because you poisoned her,” Tair thundered, cutting Ashraf short. “You poisoned her food and drink and she writhes with physical pain, not with some mystical spirit. You gave her poisonous herbs to kill her and you are lucky that I do not give you some of the same.”
“Ah! But see, you’ve just proven my point. Look what this woman has already done to us. Look at the evil she’s brought on us. You’re going to kill me and she what…will live here with you? How is that justice? How is keeping her and losing me right? Will she protect you as I have? Will she watch your back? No. She is bad and I tell you now, I warn you, brother to brother, man to man, not to keep her. She is a danger to all.”
Tair let his other men take Ashraf away then.
Ashraf was wrong, Tair thought, watching the bound Ashraf settle onto his horse. Tair wasn’t going to kill Ashraf, and Tally wasn’t going to bring destruction on them. But things were getting complicated. As well as interesting.
Tally was sick, very sick, that much she understood, everything coming at her in a blur of heat and haze. She saw as if underwater, the world blurry and shapes shimmering toward her and then away. Even the voices she heard were like voices beneath the water, blah blah blah, strange tones and all jumbled sound. She tried to focus, tried to make sense of the noise and blur but it was too hard, too much effort and closing her eyes she gave up, returning instead to the bliss of sleep.