let his caress go lower, sliding down under the coverlet, fondling her lovingly. She sighed as he leaned over and kissed her.
Sated, he soon fell into a deep sleep and Adama stood up and stretched. She wasn’t tired and decided to take a walk
around the garden.
Leaving the villa through her terrace doors, she pulled
a light robe over herself, and made her way down the quiet path to their walled garden. The path meandered about the property,
around a large deep pond, and circled back to the villa. It was private and quiet and cool in the heat of the day. The sun
wasn’t high yet, but it was warm and Adama decided to cool her feet in the pond.
She walked down to the shore enjoying the quiet sounds
of dawn, and as always the incredible view of the rising sun. She kilted her silk robe into her belt, then waded into the
cool water. She looked down and smiled as a group of three or four small fish circled her ankles curiously.
The fish suddenly zipped off to the deeper darkness of
the pool as a booted foot appeared near hers. She started to turn and was stopped by a large body. A huge hairy hand came
down over her mouth and his other arm came around her middle, lifting her easily out of the water. Unable to scream, she kicked
and flailed madly, trying to force him to drop her. He managed to drag her to shore where he flung her face down and then
drove a heavy knee into her back, knocking her breathless. She gasped air and tried to scream and felt a heavy blow to the
back of her neck, and she fell still.
When Adama awoke, it was dark.
Her head ached terribly and she thought it might be easier
to simply go back to sleep, except she was so thirsty.
She moaned low and swallowed. Why would Kesim speak Tarkir?
She moaned again and tried to raise her hand to her face.
“Dammit, Kesim,” she sent the thought. “Why are
you speaking Tarkir?”
“Oh, my head is killing me,” she said aloud.
She opened her eyes and looked around. She didn’t
recognize her surroundings and fear ran through her. Kesim still had not answered her. “Kesim?”
She was about to repeat herself, and he spoke again.
“It is not Kesim, Seref'behar.”
Adama turned her head quickly, ignoring the pain.
“Oh my God!”