Unfortunately, her father, Sergio, was not as kind. Sergio was a traveler, at his best a talented con man, at his worst, an abusive drunk. He was tall, light skinned, with dark eyes and hair. A handsome man, with a good level of charm that was able to steal Desert Rose's heart. His involvement with Kathena was minimal until she was finally old enough for him to use in his cons. He taught her how to pick locks, cheat at games, and pick pockets. These skills will serve her well when in her life on the road.
Kathena gets closer to El Caribe, the Bedouin desert that she left when she was just 14 years old. That was the last time she saw her father. Sergio, in a drunken stupor, had gambled and lost all of his money and was looking to earn some coin to continue his game. He attempted to sell his vardo for coin, but there were no takers. However, one of the travelers new to the area saw his opportunity and offered Sergio 2 gold coins for his daughter Kathena. Sergio, didn't hesitate at the offer and handed her over to the man, who dragged her kicking and screaming to his vardo and chained her in the back. The men continued to play and drink all night. Kathena waited until they passed out, picked the lock and stole the vardo. She got on the road and did not stop until she reached green ground. She never returned, until this moment.
Over the last few weeks she’d left behind the cool breezes of the River Lands. She’d made her way through mountain ranges, valleys, towns, and desolate places. The climate becoming ever warmer, as she made her way south. The green pastures led to arid places and now finally sand dunes lay ahead. As the sun sets over the horizon, she can see the rays glitter on the top of the Shaikh’s palace in the distance and she knows she is back home. She was not the same girl that ran away so long ago. No, Kathena was a different creature altogether now. She was not a small, weak girl who could be traded like cattle. She’d lived and learned through fire and hell, which shaped her into the woman she is today.
As she makes her way towards the traveler’s camp near the oasis, she sees the stares of what used to be her people, and she knows she is a stranger in these lands now. Kathena no longer belongs to the Bedouin clan. She no longer resembles one of them. Kathena is now an outsider. Her horse slows and stops by the oasis as she finds a small patch of land that is open for a traveler. She readies her vardo, ensuring it was secure, then walks her horse to the water, letting him drink his fill. Her eyes, fixed ahead, though she can see the eyes of many upon her. She rises, standing tall and strong as she makes her way towards the campfire, where most are gathered.
The Bedouin clan women are dressed in their traditional dresses, completely covered, and wearing their veils. Kathena smirks as she sees them look at her with such alarm as her clothing is more like the Romani gypsies with which she traveled and learned from on the road for so many years. Her face is bare, adorned by a ring on her nose with a chain that hangs from her ear. One of the few items she kept from her mother. She wears a short knotted blouse, with a lace jacket that allows her light skin to show, and a low hanging skirt, that calls attention to her ample hips. She walks with such assertiveness that it cannot be mistaken for anything but rebellion. The men’s dark eyes narrow in examination and anger at her boldness.
Kathena stands before the fire, looking through the flames at the man that seems to be in charge at the camp. He sits upon many pillows, with several women to his sides as men stand at the ready, guarding him, their scimitars hooked on their belts. She looks at the man directly in his eyes and introduces herself in a voice far too loud to be proper for a woman. “My name is Kathena, and I am here seeking information about a man called Sergio. I have traveled far and would appreciate a direct answer as to his whereabouts.”
The men place their hands on their swords, ready to strike her down at the slightest nod from the camp leader. This man, whose face is marked by the sands of time, his skin tanned as old worn leather and lined as the rivers through the lands, stares back at her, smoke from the hookah escaping his lips like soft puffs of clouds. His eyes narrow, for a split second that felt like a lifetime, it seemed he was considering killing her for her insolence, when suddenly he raised a hand and his guards stood down. He studied her across the flames, her skin glowing from the light and a small smile crept onto his lips.
“Come closer, Kathena, for I must see if you are real, or a Djinn trying to trick an old man.”
She looks about carefully, keeping a hand close to her right thigh, where a small dagger is concealed. She takes slow deliberate steps around the fire, making her way towards the man, stopping just outside of arms reach of him. He studies her, her movements, her face. She has the look of a predatory cat, that finds itself cornered and is very dangerous. Her movements, both graceful and threatening, letting him know, she was not like any other he had seen. He smiles and introduces himself. “I am Aamir, elder and leader of this camp. Why do you seek this, Sergio?” He asks curious about the creature before him.
Kathena keeps her eyes on Aamir, though ever watchful of the other men around her. “My business is my own, I need only know his whereabouts.” Her face completely impassive, not wanting to reveal any information. Aamir stands, staring at her, ever more curious. He studies her face, her teal eyes sparkling by the firelight. “You have very unusual eyes my dear. I have only seen eyes like yours once before in these parts, so many years ago. There was a dancer that all travelers spoke of when making their way through this desert. Last I heard, she died in a raid many years past.” He paces around her, studying her face for any reaction to his words. Kathena stares straight ahead, her face like a statue, hard and cold,
without feeling. Aamir continues, looking to another man. “Did she by any chance have a girl child? Could you be her? Could you be the one that cost Sergio his arm?” His eyes lock on hers as he mentions Sergio. Kathena’s eyes betray her as they widen at the mention of her father. She swallows hard, and steadies herself, knowing she must not look weak.
“Who I am, is of no concern of yours. I merely seek to find him. Now, will you tell me where I can find Sergio, or must I ask elsewhere?” Aamir looked amused by her defiance, and thought that he would like to see this play out, if for nothing else, than to enjoy the story unfold before him. He grins smugly at her.
“Aye, I know where Sergio is, as does everyone else here. You may find him at the stables, doing what he does best; moving filth from one place to another.” Laughter breaks out in the camp. Kathena doesn’t know how to feel. This man who tormented her as a child, who traded her for coins, was still her father and the only family she ever had. She had played this encounter so many times in her mind, but she never factored in what she would feel finally being face to face. She took a deep breath and curtsied in a flourish that seemed almost a dance, graceful and flowing. “I thank you for the information. Good day Sir Aamir.” With that she turned and walked to her vardo. She decided she must rest and seek out her father in the morning, for she knew she would need her strength to face him...
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