Maliha
Chapter 43: Wake-up Call

Hushed Ujarak, his hands gripping Maliha’s waist as she twisted on top of him.

Her nails were imbedded into his chest as their rhythm picked up. The short strands of her hair tickled the back of her neck, as her head tilted back in pleasure. Her mouth hung wide open as her heart thudded inside her chest. Ujarak’s roughened hands glided across her buttocks, squeezing the supple skin before his hands were sliding along her sweat slicked back.

Her eyes widened as he thrust up into her, his hips grinding as he sunk deeper and deeper.

“So deep.”

Maliha whimpered, her hand palming her mouth as she tried to suppress her moans, but she couldn’t. The angle was so different, so perfect. Ujarak was pounding into her sensitive spots whilst she worked herself over him. His hips swivelled as he forced her to take more.

“Uja,” she cried, her nails biting into his chest.

Uja thrust harder, his hands wrapping along her back as shifted into a seating position. Maliha wrapped her arms around his shoulders as her head thumped against his collarbone in sublime gratification.

Her mouth dell open and then her teeth were sinking into his pectorals as a viscous climax tore through her. She fell limply into his lap but Ujarak wasn’t done. He continued to work her limp body until his climax crashed over him and then they were both collapsing onto their pallet.

Maliha rolled over to face Ujarak, her head resting in the crook of his neck as his arms wrapped around her.

“I swear that boy sleeps like the dead,” panted Maliha, looking over her shoulder to ensure Enzo was still asleep.

She really needn’t have bothered because in the past few weeks that Maliha and Ujarak had been intimate within this tent, Enzo had always slept through it all.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t been startled awake by your loud moans yet,” Ujarak chuckled.

“I am not loud,” Maliha huffed, propping up on her forearms to frown at him.

“Yes, you are,” Ujarak teased “but I am not complaining,”

He leaned over and planted a warm kiss onto her lips that reignited the fire in Maliha’s veins. Just as their petting was becoming heavy, a loud coughing noise came from outside of the tent.

“Time for me to go,” Ujarak huffed, flopping back down onto the bed in annoyance.

“There have been a lot of meetings recently. Have you not made any decisions yet?”

“Mmm,” grunted Ujarak as he climbed from the bed and began flinging on his clothes.

“The yearly meeting is soon and every time someone makes a suggestion, even more people disagree.”

His eyes rolled heaven ward as he pulled on his shoes and gathered up his weapons.

“You don’t think the Svolik will strike soon, do you?”

Ujarak looked pensively at Maliha before slightly shaking her head. “I don’t but Urik was correct, they are becoming more active. We need to be prepared.”

Ujarak always flinched when he mentioned his uncle’s bane. The weeks had not lessened the animosity between the men, but it had made one thing clear, Urik was an integral part of this tribe. He had travelled for years under his banishment and had returned with a fountain of information that painted a very morbid picture. The Svolik were preparing for a war.

A war that this divided Dahsolik nation would not win. The reuniting of all tribes was imperative to survive against this growing dark energy but with wars spanning back generations, it would take more than one council meeting to make that change.

The loud coughing at the door cane again, signalling Ujarak’s need to depart.

Maliha gathered a thin sheet and then followed him to the door, as he pulled the flap open she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. His hands gripped her body until they slowly pulled apart.

“A kiss like that will make my day go fast,” he murmured against her lips before tapping her butt and heading off.

Maliha spotted Aya, one of Sabra’s daughters. The woman was only a few inches shorter than Ujarak and had the disposition of a warrior. When the two stood together, they looked like a force to be reckoned with and it put the fear of the goddess into Maliha’s heart.

They looked strong. Like an impenetrable front which was something Maliha and Ujarak were not.

Maliha heaved a deep sigh before closing the flap of her tent and wiping her body clean. Once she was washed and clothed, she tidied up her pallet and began gathering foods while Enzo continued napping.

The smell of the boiled eggs woke Enzo from his sleep. His hair stood out at all ends as he sleepily stepped outside and sat in her lap. Maliha chuckled as she peeled open an egg and handed into him. Enzo’s messy hair abraded against her chin as he chomped on his boiled eggs and slurped on his mint tea.

“Go wash up and bring me some oil and a comb when you are clean.”

Enzo groggily stepped back into the tent and returned a few minutes later.

There was a pep in his step as he presented Maliha with the items. The comb was made out of animal bone and metal and was crafted by one of the women of the tribe. Maliha gently detangled Enzo’s hair and plaited it into the same style, only this time she added a few extra plaits and attached some colourful beads she had traded for a while back.

Her hands clapped together as she finished creaming his hair. “All done”

“Thank you umahu,” grinned Enzo, pecking a kiss on Maliha’s cheek as he helped her gather up their pots and pans.

Once they had placed everything away, Maliha grasped Enzo’s hand in hers and headed back out of the tent. Her first stop of the day would be to visit with Makula.

The elderly woman had been stretched thin over the last few weeks since the Svolik attack. Not only had she been focused on making sure that everyone healed, she had lead the ceremony in honouring the few who had died and had lead the naming ceremony for Ciur and N’tan’s baby, which they had named Cobar. The ceremony had been even more beautiful to Maliha this time around, now that she understood many of the words and what they meant to the child. Makula had been given a short reprieve, but her dirty did not end there.

the Der Khatil had been introduced into the Ishanu and Makula had lead the procession before she had cleansed the Ishanu form any lingering sake energies. The ceremony had been the most magnificent Maliha and ever seen. The Ishanu has reacts din away she had never witnessed.

Tears had glided down everyone’s cheeks as the ancestors had walked among them. Their cheeks pressing to each other’s, lips grazing foreheads and arms wrapping around each other as they had swayed to an ancient song. The great tree had groaned as its energy had shifted and realigned to welcome the children that originated from its own roots.

The flora had flowed a magnificent shade of green and blue, the lights shining in splendour and welcoming everyone home.

Makula had expended so much of her energy, she had been forced to take a few days of rest, but the demand of the tribe had multiplied. The elderly woman had been working overtime, and though she had been supported by the tribe and by Darsan, there was only so much she could do and so Maliha and taken it upon herself to help.

She of course, had ulterior motives. Much of what Urik had mentioned had been playing on Maliha’s mind and she had been working up to questioning Makula about it.

“V’adar Maliha and Enzo,”

“V’adar” called Enzo, running over to Makula and wrapping his arms around her.

He hesitantly waved at Sabra before taking Darsan’s hand and following her to the small congregation who were sitting around to hear stories and recite their letters.

“How are you this morning, Maliha?”

“I am well, and you Sabra?” Maliha tried to smile back at Sabra but the woman always made her feel uneasy.

“I am feeling exceptional this morning. I had a pleasant sleep; my dreams were full of memories of my youth.”

“That is good,” responded Maliha, looking to Makula for some sort of help or queue of what was going on.

“I wondered,” questioned Sabra.

She shifted in her chair as she helped Makula with mixing plants to create different healing remedies.

“Do you feel insecure now that my daughter Aya, and Ujarak spend every day together.”

Maliha jerked back as if she had been slapped. Her cheeks heated up in shock and embarrassment, embarrassment that Sabra would even ask a question like that.

Maliha tried to remain unphased. Staring down at the bunch of plants in her hands as she plucked them and pasted them in a clay bowl.

“I don’t think he would be disloyal,” Maliha murmured cautiously.

“He wouldn’t, but surely you understand the political advantage a paring with one of my daughters would bring.”

“Yes, I do understand but isn’t that against everything this nation was based upon. Don’t you all hold love at the centre?” befuddlement heavy on her tongue.

Had sabra forgotten that the Dahsolik nation came to be because love had trumped all? Had Pathikyo not loved Solayka so deeply that he had promised his life to Najrati just to be with her. Hadn’t Solayka loved Pathikyo so profoundly that she had called Yahsolik to the goddess who had condemned her and husband to live on separate islands? Had they not loved each other so acutely? Was this not what this nation was based upon? How could Sabra suggest anything less than all-consuming love would please their goddess?

“Times have changed. We now understand that love grows as long as you water it like a precious flower.”

How could love flourish, where no seed had been planted?

“But from what I have been told, political agreements have never worked out for Ujarak’s ancestors.”

“How so?” Sabra queried, her head tilting as she assessed Maliha with a calculating gaze.

Maliha stared back at Sabra, trying to convey a calm facade but beneath the surface she was broiling with anger and fear. Sabra didn’t seem like a malicious woman, but her words hurt and Maliha was struggling to believe that it wasn’t intentional.

“Ujarak’s grandfather encouraged his much younger sister, Yena, to marry Urik, who was raised amongst this tribe. There was no love and the paring had been short lived, ending in her eventual death during child labour.”

Sabra looked surprised by Maliha’s vehemence, shocked that Maliha knew so much and that she would challenge the Sujurrah of the Der Khatil.

“In fact, from the small pieces of history I have been told, it seems that any paring without love has never succeeded.”

Maliha silently thanked Nahi and Xiuri who had slowly been revealing the Der Surjaz history for this moment. Without them she would have been left floundering under Sabra’s quick comebacks.

“I disagree, it isn’t about love at first sight but about approval. Only Savuriya can approve.”

“But how do we know she would approve of a political joining when she has not thus far? The only ones who know are those who have her ear and even they do not speak to us with certainty.”

Makula’s head nodded in agreement as she hobbled closer to the two women. She leaned heavily on the table as she looked Maliha dead in the eye.

“There is much we know but cannot say because our words would influence the choice and make a pure joining, tainted. We cannot speak, for to speak will reveal to those who must see with their own eyes and feel with their own hearts.”

Maliha blinked in confusion, trying to decipher the hidden meanings in Makula’s words.

“It is not my place to say.” Added Makula before turning to look at Sabra.

“But,” she interjected, “a paring with your daughter will not be in the best interest for this nation. Perhaps for the coexisting of our two tribes, but not for the Dahsolik.

“Though,” Makula belatedly emended, “all of your young do meet the requirements to be the Sujurrah,”

Maliha didn’t feel any more secure after Makula’s words. One of Sabra’s daughters could still be Ujarak’s sujurrah, though she doubted it, Maliha couldn’t be sure. Maliha couldn’t deny that Aya and Ujarak looked strong together, and what could be more important than a strong and united front against their adversaries.

Aya was a warrior and she would bring that strength and fire to this tribe as well as officially reuniting a bloodline that had previously been split. How could this not be Savuriya’s will?

Maliha’s throat was thick with emotion as she propped herself against the table for support as she tried to clear her brain.

“Ujarak has mentioned that there are scriptures that give details about the sujurrah, but he hasn’t read them since before his father’s death.”

“Yes,” Makula croaked, “there is one particular scripture. To read it will be to seek certain freedom from this curse that plagues our lands.”

“So, why have you not given it to him?”

It didn’t make sense. If Makula knew that there was a scripture that would reveal to Ujarak who had sujurrah was, why hadn’t she given it to him yet or at the very repeated it to him?

“Many within this tribe know that we hold sacred scriptures that detail back to the beginning of time when the Yari Soleen was one,” Makula deadpanned, mentioning that nation that Urik had spoken of all those weeks passed.

“But many, including Ujarak, pretend as if they do not exist. I cannot give information to deaf ears and I cannot lead a blind tribe.”

Makula’s voice was grave as she stared despondently down at her plants.

“I can only give him what he seeks.”

Maliha understood exactly what Makula was saying. Ujarak hadn’t daughter the knowledge of who his sujurrah was from Makula.

It did not make sense. From the moment Maliha had met Ujarak, he had been consumed with discovering who his sujurrah was. He had repeatedly told Maliha, she was not the one with such conviction that Maliha could not believe that he had refused the acknowledge what was sitting at his fingertips.

“Why would he not seek the truth, why?”

Both Sabra and Maliha’s eyes were on Makula as if she could provide the answers but it wasn’t with her that Maliha’s query was pointed to.

“The answer to your question remains within Ujarak’s soul, to which I do not know the response, but an old woman cannot help but wonder. Does he truly wish to see, or does he want to remain blind?”

Maliha had no answer. No one but Ujarak had the answer.

Maliha believed that Ujarak had a desire to know, why else would he place so much importance on the sujurrah. How many times had he pulled away from Maliha for that reason alone?

“I don’t - I don’t think he would lie to me.”

But her words sounded flaccid to her own ears. Ujarak had never lied to her but was omitting facts the same as telling a lie?

“He wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t.”

Maliha’s head shook in denial. Her hands quivering as she gripped the table and her eyes gritted closed.

Ujarak wasn’t that man. He was stubborn, but he had honour. He was fighting to honour this tribe.

“Maybe he fears the truth because the truth didn’t help his father or mother.”

Sabra rested her hand on Maliha’s chin and forced her to look into her eyes.

“Maybe he fears the truth because he has grown to care for you,“.

Maliha shook Sabra’s touch away, annoyed that this woman was trying to comfort Maliha when she was the one who had forced Maliha to confront a situation she was not prepared for.

Maliha gripped her hair in frustration and paced along the table.

She had a decision to make. Either she would become complicit in Ujarak’s ignorance or she would face the truth and accept it for what it was.

“Can I-”

“Yes, child?” prompted Makula at Maliha’s hesitance.

Maliha gnawed at her lip. Anxiety strumming through her body as she made her choice.

“I need to see those scriptures.”

Makula’s eyes shuttered closed as she slowly nodded her head in reluctant acceptance.

“I cannot turn a seeking eye away.”