Free Veil of Silence by K'Anne Meinel Page A

but once cowed, Marsha had proved to be an unceasing attraction to the man.  Once she was pregnant, he proclaimed his prowess to any and all who would listen.  Malekah had been jealous beyond measure.  Marsha had shared the children with her to a degree, hoping to ease her lot in life, but when the senior wife had attempted to take over, have them call her moray, the brunette had put a stop to her friendly gestures.  The woman had resented her from then on, even kicking her backside when she lay recovering from her miscarriage.  Since Zabi had taken full responsibility for the beating that had resulted in the miscarriage, the additional bruises on Marsha’s back hadn’t been noted.  Malekah had won in the end.  The children had thought she was their mother and Marsha was just the second wife, also called moray.  Even on the harrowing drive from the camp in the jeep, when they called for moray, Marsha hadn’t been sure they weren’t calling for Malekah.  They clung to her because she was someone familiar, at least that’s what Marsha had been thinking.
    The new clothes were for a festival that Zabi’s tribe and another were participating in.  They tried to do this several times a year with various tribes in order to allow their young people to meet and marry.  Girls as young as eleven were betrothed, sometimes forced to go live with their intended’s family since it might be several years before the two tribes came together again.  The practice worried Marsha as she looked at her daughter, her stomach protected by her hand.  She knew there were already inquiries about matching Bahir because of Zabi’s standing in the community.  Marsha would have no say and neither would the child.
    Seeing a jeep parked just outside of their tent village, Marsha’s heart pounded at the opportunity.  No one was watching it, no one would dare.  She pretended she wasn’t interested in it, but she saw that the keys were in it, dangling temptingly from the ignition.  Slowly, she made her way back towards where Malekah was showing off, pretending that Zabi’s son Amir was her own.  She was sitting on a large blanket she had spread out for her and her son, her friends sitting on the edge admiring the sturdy toddler.  He was already fussing as it was past his time for a nap.  Marsha bowed respectfully to the chieftain’s first wife.
    “I’ll take him for his nap,” she offered generously, but inside she was seething for having to be deferential to this woman over her own son.
    “That would be good,” Malekah said graciously.
    Marsha looked for Bahir, but didn’t see her as she made her way towards their tent. 
    “Mahsa,” the harsh voice of Zabi stopped her.
    Marsha quickly looked down, waiting for him to say what he needed to say.  She was taller than him, something that seemed to annoy him from the beginning.  He didn’t like the fact that he had to look up at the American woman.
    “You stay covered,” he ordered, looking for something to admonish her about.
    Marsha pulled the burqa she was wearing tighter, hiding the lovely garments below it completely.  She affixed the chador across her face one-handed since she was holding Amir.  This seemed to appease the leader as he looked at her with a gleam in his eye.  Marsha glanced up to see if he was finished with her, saw the gleam, and nearly groaned.  It meant he would want to bed her later despite her pregnancy.  He couldn’t seem to get enough of her.  She inwardly shuddered.  The years with him had been hell and if she could, she would have killed him.  She knew her own life would be short-lived with these people if she did that.  Her children would be raised with the same values they held; her own culture and values were of no importance here.  Marsha surreptitiously pinched Amir, which set him to squawking immediately, as she had known it would.  Zabi backed away.  Raising children was a woman’s job.  He took pride in his offspring, as