“Where we are right now is on a plateau,” Cayden explained while I finished loading the arrows. “Their camp is in a cove on its east side not far south of here. The part that overlooks their camp isn’t climbable from where they are, but I guess they don’t consider that anyone can get up there from farther north. Ride south from here and it takes us right above them. There’s a narrow pass out of their cove which they blockade with wagons at night, which just works in our favor.” He laughed.
“They’ll drink the wine, but only with their evening meal. That poison works slowly but the symptoms come fast. We should reach the spot I’ve chosen just in time to watch them die. Some of those men don’t drink, so….” He stopped, grinning at me, his eyes gleaming at the thought of live prey. He poured himself out some wine and continued.
“We’ve been over there a few times now. There’s one small steep cliff that we’ll need to climb, but I’ve already knocked in a few stakes. I left a few crossbows up there last time we went. They’re already propped around the top. They’re set up to go off on the pull wire, but they’ll only be good for the initial attack. If they take out a man or two…” He shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “I just want them real confused.”
He pulled two wrapped cloths from one of his bags, holding them out to me. “Powder. It hangs in the air, gets in the eyes and makes you cough. I’m giving you two of these. We don’t want to use them right away. I like to be able to see what I’m aiming at, but when they start trying to move out through the pass, drop these behind them at will. Then -- arrows, rocks, anything to make them think we’re still up there and not coming down behind them. You need to be three people for a minute. We won’t need more than that.”
He dragged a sack to the middle of the room. Before he tied it shut, I noticed it was full of what looked like dead scarabs and dried out pieces of palm. He fastened this sack to his belt. This man thought ten steps ahead. I was starting to see why he could do what he could do.
Simera motioned for me to come to her, and she started covering my face and skin with ash. Each stroke of her hand lingered deliberately across my flesh. Had it been the touch of a desert pilgrim I might have found it enticing, but I couldn’t shake the dreadful feeling that this woman was as ancient as the tomb in which we stood. When she finished, she handed me her silver mirror box.
I liked being hidden underneath this dark veneer. Cayden pointed to armor pieces that hung fastened to his wall. “Give him those,” he said. She handed me bracers and a hardened leather chest guard. I shivered putting them on. Between the ash and the items I had strapped to me, I felt like a seasoned soldier. My blood began pumping more in excitement than in fear.
“We’ve got horses,” Cayden said. “I hope you know how to ride.”
“I have never in my life sat on a horse,” I said, more enthusiastic than apologetic.
“Well, you can’t be any worse than the Roman cavalry. We’ll go a bit slower, just try to keep up. We’re not bringing them all the way. Last thing we need is a snorting horse announcing our arrival.”
He handed me a small bow partially covered with strips of leather. It was curved inward on both ends, very different from the longbow he had slung over his back. “Made this one myself,” he said. “Should be easier for you to use, considering your injury.” I took it over my shoulder as he nodded. “Now you look the part.”
“I might look it, but I still don’t know what I’ll be able to do.”
“Well, you can always just stand still,” he said. “Better they shoot their arrows at you than at me.”
I flicked my eyes up at him and he grinned. I feebly returned his grin, but in the back of my mind, I knew it was probably exactly what he was thinking.
I took the liberty to refill and empty my cup. Whatever Simera had given me had numbed the pain well, but for steadying nerves, there was nothing quite like wine. Simera coiled a rope, securing it to a loop on her belt, and we all stepped out into the crisp night air.
For what distance I could see, the lower face of this mountain seemed full of small dark openings. “These were tombs at one time. I can’t guess how old,” Cayden said. “I cleaned out what was left of the bones, but there wasn’t much.”
It was a disconcerting thought to me that Simera may have been a girl who laid in a tomb for three hundred years, only to come out and reside in one.
They had gated one of the tombs, and he produced from inside of it two worthy horses. In the pallid light of a low hanging crescent moon, their coats appeared as black as the ash we wore. Cayden gave me fast instruction on drawing and releasing my bow, making sure I understood the basic idea, and then I slung it back over my shoulder as he helped me to my saddle.
We started off silently, making no sound but the gentle rhythm of hooves against the stones. Simera rode with Cayden, her body pressed up tightly against his. The ash worked well in the darkness. My eyes strained continually to make out their forms ahead of me.
I savored the feeling of riding like a soldier. It added to the dreamlike atmosphere of this night. If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I’d soon be riding in the middle of the desert prepared to declare war on a camp of raiders, I would’ve laughed them straight out of the pub.
We rode briskly for half an hour before stopping to dismount. As I carefully lowered myself from my saddle, I saw Cayden pull Simera to him. He placed the amulet around her neck, whispering to her, “No argument.” I readjusted the straps across my chest, not wanting my eyes to linger. I’d have regarded it a noble act, but the amulet was hers to start with. I still didn’t know what to make of him.
“Let’s go,” Cayden said.
My vision was slowly adjusting to the shadowy darkness around us. I could barely see twenty feet ahead, but that worked in my favor. Had I been able to perceive the cliff we were about to climb, I would reasonably have turned back around.
“So how many men do you think we’ll have to fight?” I asked, my pulse beginning to quicken at the thought of confrontation.
“We’ll know when we get up there. Shouldn’t be too many, but I can hope.”
It sounded like he’d meant to imply he wanted longer odds. If this hunting was such sport for him, I would have been happy to accommodate him by staying behind at the cave. My foot caught in a tangle of brush and I worked to yank it free. “I wish the goddess would grow her moon,” I said.
"Embrace that shroud of darkness," Cayden said. "They’ve got torches in their camp, and torches are a wonderful thing. Illuminates your target for you while blinding them to anything that sits outside its cast, and they can’t kill what they can’t see. That's the key boy. Remember that."
"Okay." I nodded my head. The assassin was imparting a lesson to me. I found myself having to stifle laughter. Would I live to tell this story, no one would believe it, except maybe Tibs, since he’d known this man. I wondered who taught Cayden these things, or was he just by nature born the way he was?
Approaching the granite rock face, I gained a sense of its height. It was a sheer vertical climb of some twenty feet. I could see the iron spikes he’d applied, protruding from a natural crevice which ran the wall’s length. Simera started up first. Watching her climb reminded me of when I was a child, watching the masons scale the scaffolding around the basilica. I used to get nervous seeing them up so high. The same feeling applied here. I started up behind her. The stakes felt loose in their holds. My mind at once began sabotaging me. 'The further up you climb, the more deadly that fall will be.' My hands began shaking, despite a valid attempt to stave off that unease. Each time I looked skyward to gain a fresh hold, I was overcome with a dizzying sensation. As Simera disappeared over its crest, I glanced down, gaining an alarming perspective to my height.
I closed my eyes tighter than I’d ever shut them before, sucking my lips into my mouth and biting down on them, trying to control my nerves. It was like being up in the lighthouse. The elevation was disorienting. My muscles locked into a tight grip, and I found myself clinging for life.
“Mardus.” Simera called down to me in a hushed voice. “Mardus, are you okay?”
Cayden was climbing just below me. I could hear him let out a heavy sigh.
“This is what I hated about the Romans,” he said. “Their soldiers had no nerves. They were so weak compared to my people. The barbarians live for war. Greatest warriors on earth. Do ya know what your Caesar gave me to help him fight the Celts? More money than you’ll ever see in your lifetime, and you know why? Because he knew his own men were too weak to do it. The only way they won their wars was by the sheer size of their infantry. In an even fight, there’s no way they could win.”
My eyes flashed downwards at him. “We won plenty of battles where we were outnumbered. Caesar took out an army that outnumbered his two to one.”
“Nah, he just got lucky,” he said. “His mercenaries did most of the work. I don’t know how you can imagine otherwise. You’re all so small. We’re obviously superior. The Greeks are superior. They’re more intelligent than you. The Egyptians have made greater advancements. The Parthian cavalry has a good long laugh at Romans every day. And you’re all so ugly, and your women are....”
“Our women are what?” I shouted back at him. He was starting to infuriate me. I began climbing again, steadily. I could hear him chuckling smugly below me. Simera gave me a hand up as I ascended over the threshold, and I turned, waiting for him, my fists ready to fly at his arrogant head.
The second he planted both feet firmly I took a single swing. He ducked it off and crouched, wrapping me up with his head against my side and lifting me sideways over his leg onto the ground. A new shock of pain roared across my wounded back. His leaned forward, smiling at me, resting his forearm taut against my neck.
“You froze up. I had to light a fire under your ass. Get over it.” He whispered calmly. “We don’t have time for this now, boy. I need you on your feet.” He stood up, holding his hand out to me. I lay there a second, staring at him, trying to catch my breath. I finally took his hand, glaring at him while I did it. “You can show them what Romans are made of,” he said, nodding towards the camp beneath us.
Dozens of glowing torches and fires burned far below us on the opposite side of the mountain. We descended along a narrow ridge, our backs pressed up against the rocks as we nimbly edged down its precarious path. We reached a small stretch of level ground. Cayden pointed out to me the wire he had left there and to the three spots along the rock face where he had propped his preloaded crossbows.
“I have some things I need to do, so for now, you two are both quiet and out of sight,” he said.
Simera flattened to her belly and I did the same, peering carefully over the ledge.
I could see the men in the camp before us and hear their wailing cries. Many of them were doubled over, moaning or heaving, while others staggered blindly about, grasping at their heads. There were men on the ground convulsing, and others already stilled. The vagrants who appeared healthy were lamenting in sorrow or screaming in fury at the condition of their friends. They were all suffering in some way, and though they were our enemies, I found the scene disturbing. I’m sure they never expected their deaths to come so underhanded. They dreamed of deaths with glory, if they dreamed of death at all, and now they laid there in humiliation, writhing in their own spew.
Angry bursts of chatter came between the living men. I knew they questioned who to blame. I beseeched Mars not to let us see failure, because I didn’t doubt their next stop would be Kel-abar.
The cove was more extensive than I’d imagined. I could see wagons and some two-wheeled carts, along with the wares they’d plundered from ravaged caravans. Numerous crates and sacks were randomly stacked along the walls, some emptied, some still full. Their horses stood tethered along with some camels at the far end of the camp. Closer to us large gutted remains suggested a few camels had served as meals.
Cayden secured their rope to a stake he must have left before. Crawling back around us, he crossed silently to the part of the ledge that overlooked the pass. He was barely visible to me in the dark, but I could still make out his form, tossing bugs and leaves from his sack somewhere down into the darkness below him. Simera lay so close to me I could feel our shoulders touch. She leaned up on her forearms, watching him, and my eyes drew unwillingly to her amulet. It appeared some manner of lustrous dark metal, with three symbols seared unto its surface. Simera turned her head towards me. I lifted my eyes away from her neck. She had the same look I first saw in the tavern. That longing loving gaze. The kind of impassioned look you would expect from a lover, not a girl you’d first met. It made me uncomfortable, despite her appeal.
Cayden returned to us, dropping to a crouch. “Looks like we’ll only have about eighteen of them to fight.” It sounded like an easy number, until I remembered there were only three of us. “If we wait a few more minutes, we can be sure everyone who drank will be incapable of helping.”
Simera leaned on her side, staring up at the sky.
“Will I ever be as the stars, Bakhu?”
“Not if I can help it,” he said.
“But it is an honor to become such stars.” She turned her head back to look at him.
“An honor for the dead,” he said, “which you are not, and won’t be in my lifetime.”
She frowned at him, appearing wistful at his answer.
Those keen gray eyes remained fixed on the men below us the entire time he spoke, like a predator watches its prey. It seemed to me this was all he really knew. Hunting, stalking, killing. He was the consummate protector for the Egyptian girl beside me. I wondered how they could have met, and if she had been a young girl at the time, why he would’ve chosen to take her under his wing.
I was removed from my thoughts by the sensation of something crawling over my skin. Glancing down at its lobster like claw and long raised pointed tail, I sucked in my breath. I knew what it was because I had seen one before, in a wooden box at the market in Rome. A foreign trader was selling it as a curiosity. I was fascinated with it as a boy, but here on my hand, it brought about an entirely different emotion.
I shrieked, flinging my arm into the air.
“Gods preserve us!" Cayden shouted quietly, "Do you want to get us all killed, boy?"
“It was a scorpion.” I whined. From below us I could hear a sudden roar of activity.
"I think we've been seen," Simera said.
Cayden glared at me as they jumped to their feet, donning their long bows. Before I could rise up to my knees, both had already released arrows and were reaching for their quivers. Grabbing the bow from my shoulder, I tried to load it with a trembling hand. An arrow whisked past my face. I ducked nervously behind Cayden, releasing my first arrow without giving thought to aim. It descended weakly down into the camp, falling over on its side in the sand. I nocked another and tried again. I felt ridiculous next to Cayden, who stood aiming and releasing with an unbelievable swiftness.
Simera glanced over at me. “Mardus, keep shooting! There’s nothing down there we don’t wish to kill.”
Attempting to aim my next shot, it flew far from its intended course. “I…I hit a camel!” I gasped. The poor animal reared up and ran wild about the camp, adding to the confusion.
Cayden hit his wire and arrows discharged down on them from all sides. Deceived invaders shoot up the mountain, in the directions from which the arrows had come. Men slumped and fell everywhere, succumbing to the barrage which assailed them, as the gray man was deadly accurate with his bow. If they darted about, they couldn’t return our attack. If they stood still, they were dead. Shouts of confusion rang out, as the men started backing towards the pass.
I loaded arrow after arrow onto the bowstring, trying desperately to pierce a single limb. A few of the nomads’ arrows whined dangerously close, but I could hear most of them ricocheting off the rock face, short of where we stood.
"They can barely reach us!" I said, realizing that had been Cayden’s point in attacking from this spot. I stood a bit more assertively with increased confidence in my safety, gaining some poise in the use of the bow. More forcefully released, my arrows properly hissed as they streaked towards their intended destinations. I managed to puncture one man through his leg, watching him stumble into the dirt. I flashed a smile at my companions.
The ten or so men left standing in the camp rushed the pass together.
“Go now!” Cayden said to me. He and Simera bolted towards the rope he’d anchored. They waited on me, ready to toss it over and descend. I ran towards the overhang above the men. The raiders frantically hurled crates aside to get past their own blockade. I threw the powder laden cloth down on the ground behind them, and started engaging them again. Thousands of tiny white particles rose up in a cloud, swirling around them like desert snow, obscuring them from my view.
An arrow ruffled past my face. I felt its bite as it grazed my cheek. Stumbling backwards, my heart began beating at an almost unbearable pace. I closed my eyes, drawing a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. I had to keep attacking. Anything to keep them from looking behind them, or Cayden and Simera would be trapped.
I stepped to the edge again, starting to unload arrow after arrow in fast succession without concern for aim. I needed to seem like three people, Cayden had said, so I let them rain down unending. An arrow ripped through my quiver, its shaft taunt against my neck – but I maintained my assault. I saw one of the men double over and collapse, my arrow sticking from his chest. Blood from my cheek dripped hot across my lips. I could taste it with my tongue. I wasn’t a killer, not like Cayden, but I was beginning to feel a bit dangerous myself.
My friends became visible as the powder began to settle. They were on the ground with raised bows. The bandits now fled into the ravine, with the two in pursuit behind them. I hastened to the rope, tenderly lowering myself down, hand over hand. I caught up just as they slowed their steps. The raiders had moved around a corner. “They’ve stopped, they’re regrouping,” Cayden said, holding his hand up to back us off. I’d no idea how he could tell this, but I trusted him to know.
I expected us to return to the rope, content in the victory we’d achieved. We’d leave nine men at most. A good sized caravan could fend that off. Cayden pulled a short sword from his belt and held it out to me. I took it in my hand, studying it, and studying him. Outnumbered in close quarters seemed a bad idea, and had he forgotten I’d told him that I’d never used a sword?
Backing up against the wall, he and Simera stretched their bowstrings, standing alert and ready. I could hear Cayden’s labored breathing. He sounded exhausted. I’d forgotten his age until now, as he moved with the grace of a much younger man. A raider stepped into our line of sight, but Simera released her bow, striking him in the chest. His grip gave way as he fell and his arrow wavered towards me, bouncing off the wall between my legs. I looked down, laughing nervously. Simera crept back into the middle of the pass, readying another.
Two men appeared in succession, downed by a pair of fleet releases. I realized then what my companions reacted to. It wasn’t sight, but sound. The sound of men stepping on crunchy dried leaves and bug shells. Each time men moved from the unseen side of the pass, we could hear them advance. Cayden knew they’d stop around that bend, he’d thought that far ahead. I was dazed by the very idea of it.
There was a minute of uncomfortable silence.
Cayden shot a questioning look at Simera. She held up six fingers.
“They know better than to trade arrows with us now. They’ll either run or try to rush us.” Cayden whispered.
They both edged out and backwards with their bows pulled taunt. I backed up too, along the wall, waiting on the sound of men rushing forward or away. I held the sword ready, the way I had done with my wooden stick when I had been a boy. I’d copied the soldiers hundreds of time, from up on the barracks wall. I may not have ever fought with a sword, but I still knew every move I could make with one. Even with that comforting knowledge, I prayed these men would run.
There was the rush of sound as all six men came racing forward at once. I swallowed hard, suppressing the urge to flee towards the rope. Cayden managed to send an arrow directly through one man’s throat, and then there was no point in bows.
He pulled both his daggers as Simera retreated, and we started struggling fiercely -- two men against five. Three of them went towards Cayden, who was closer, and two of them towards me.
My most immediate desire was not to die. I inched away continually as I carefully fended off their swings, deflecting one as I dodged the other, scraping steel against steel for what felt like an eternity. I could see Cayden from the corner of my eye, his daggers flashing in all directions, but there was nothing wild about his movements -- they were all discernibly methodical, each swing and parry flawlessly executed with beautiful precision. Simera held her bowstring tight, trying to gain the right angle, hoping to hit one of the men without hitting her partner. She finally let her arrow fly. It grazed Cayden’s upper arm as it plowed through one of his attackers. Cayden looked down at his arm and then back at her. I swore I could hear him laughing.
My eyes jerked away from them as I ducked off another swing, coming into contact with granite. I’d backed myself against the wall. I braced myself as both thieves now attacked with renewed and unending ferocity. A sword slit across my shoulder, and then my thigh cried out in pain. This wasn’t going well. I called out for help, a ridiculous reaction, as the gray man had his hands full enough.
Cayden glanced in my direction, and dropping one of his daggers, he grabbed the crossbow from his hip. With one hand still fending off the two men who fought him, he squared his weapon towards me. I ducked and covered, terrified, and then both men in front of me collapsed to their knees, an arrow in the back of each.
I gasped out with an incredulous laugh, shouting at the sky, “Tibs!” Somehow that damned old fool had just saved me. I rushed forward to aid Cayden, circling behind the men he fought, drawing one around to me. Now with the contest even, I was able to go on the offensive. Swinging that sword felt natural to me. I loved every second of it.
Fear sparked in my opponent’s eyes. That only served to make me swing harder. I knew before he moved that he was thinking to try and run. Breaking from combat, he spun on his heels, and I tackled him hard to the ground. I most likely should have stabbed him then, but instinct from the streets took over. I tossed my sword and swung at his face with a flood of gratifying punches. He pulled his arms in to block my fists and repeatedly tried to throw me. He finally managed to shove me off, and he scrambled to his feet. I rushed to pick up my sword and turned, ready for another round, but he was running towards Simera, not me. I gasped, sprinting after him.
From the side of my vision, I could see Cayden. He was ripping his bleeding dagger from his assailant’s prone form, and we both rushed towards the last man in unison. Simera lifted her bow towards the man, standing fast in her spot, and she released an arrow into his chest at very close range. The men fell to his knees at her feet, viciously thrusting his sword outwards and into her stomach as he crumbled forward. Her eyes grew wide with shock as she took an unsteady step backwards, slumping pitifully to her side, her face an unearthly white. The man struggled back to his knees, but Cayden was on top of him, grabbing his head and slitting his throat in a single efficient movement.
He rushed to Simera’s side while I climbed to my knees, my hand tightening on my shoulder to hold in the blood from its wound. He pulled her into his arms and held her, kissing the top of her head. The color in her face slowly started to return, and she turned her face up to look at him. She smiled up at him peacefully.
“Are you hurting, love?” he asked.
She nodded, pulling herself up to sit; her head leaning against his chest.
“Now, that was a decent fight. I have to say I enjoyed that.”
“Me too,” she said.
“And what was this?” He pointed to where her arrow grazed his arm, raising his eyebrow at her.
“You got in my way.” She laughed.
It was like they’d just played a round of king of the hill, not fought a camp of murders. She turned her head, looking at the raider who perished at her feet. “No one will ever again speak your name, nor will they open your mouth,” she said, kicking his corpse with her heel. Cayden stood, helping her to her feet, and I watched it all with complete understanding. She would be fine, regardless of the mortal injury she had received, because the amulet truly did sustain her.
“Are you okay, Mardus?” she asked.
“Me?” I laughed, looking down at my bleeding thigh, “I’m fine, just a little scratch.” I grinned at Cayden, sure he would appreciate my barbarian response. “I was more worried about you.” I reached my hand up to wipe some blood from my face, blinking the sand from my eyes. I felt stinging and pain from every part of my body, and I could feel the blood flowing freely from my back again. “I could use that,” I half joked, as I nodded towards her neck.
I rose slowly back to my feet, bending over my knees a minute as I felt momentarily dizzy. “I’m going to be a dead man if I lose much more of this blood.” I grinned at them. They both stared oddly back at me, Simera with surprise, Cayden with narrowed eyes. I was about to ask them, “what?” when I realized what I’d done. I put my palm to my face, dragging it down over my mouth.
“I am a dead man,” I whispered to myself.
It was an inadvertent slip, innocently said, as I’d thought it to myself out loud. My mind had already accepted as fact the uses of the amulet, and I simply meant I would’ve loved to borrow it until I’d healed. The action was unforgivable, though, as Cayden now stood there looking at me as if I’d become the prey. I hoped to think that, after this fight, they might at least be inclined to trust me. Somehow, I couldn’t really picture him killing me, but I didn’t doubt he was contemplating it. Were I in his shoes, I know I would have thought it. I had nothing I could think to say at that point. My eyes pleaded at both of them, but most especially at Simera, because I believed she could intervene on my behalf.
“We’ve got to get all this stuff loaded onto these wagons,” Cayden said unexpectedly. “One for Siwa, what’s left of the foods and grains, and whatever else was headed there. The rest of this stuff,” he said, picking up the sword from one of the dead raiders at our feet, “can go in another.” He tossed the sword over towards the wagons.
I stood there, hesitating. I didn’t dare believe he was going to just let me off on this.
“After you, cargo man,” he said, putting his arm out, inviting me to precede him back into the cove. I started walking past him slowly, glancing at him once before looking towards the crates. I felt uniquely uncomfortable having him at my back. Was he going to have me do all the work and then kill me? I looked over at the rope. I’d never make it up that wall. For the fourth time in as many months, I felt hopelessly trapped.
I grabbed some strips of cloth from around the raider’s camp, using them to crudely bandage my wounds. Pulling my wagon to the middle of the camp, I started piling what I could on it. I kept glancing over at them, watching them converse in the pass. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I caught him looking back at me several times, and he did not look happy.
There wasn’t much left of the perishable foods, but the grain bags from our caravan were still full, as were a few of the others. I dragged them over and tied them on to the camels that were lying down, as I’d no idea how to make the standing ones sit. The rest of the crates were random goods and these I loaded slowly, minding my back -- not wanting to rush anything that might be coming when I was done.
Cayden was moving around now while they talked, taking anything he found on the raiders we’d killed in the pass and tossing it all into the back of one of the wagons. He was checking their pockets too, helping himself to their coins. I saw Simera remove her amulet and place it in his hands. If I lived, I’d be suffering my wounds for months. Hers were already healed.
When the last of the crates were loaded, I started gathering weapons too. I contemplated hanging onto one, but I knew I had no chance against that man in a fight. He fought three raiders with his daggers, while I essentially backed away from two. The pile grew substantial as we looted what was left, and I bothered to pocket some coins as well, should I somehow be spared the inevitable.
I started tying the camels together in a line while Cayden gathered the horses. Simera was loading up empty crates, I guessed to salvage the wood, when she suddenly gave a loud gasp. We both looked over at her as she bent to the ground, picking something up from inside the last crate.
“Aw, that’s my cat!” I said, going over to give its head a rub. “Came with me all the way from Alexandria.” Simera went to hand it to me and I stopped her. “Keep it. My gift to you.” She smiled at me with a child like delight, holding it up to her face.
I turned around to notice that Cayden had finished roping up the camels. Every crate, sack, cart and wagon had been accounted for. Simera went to deposit the cat on the back of the lead wagon.
Cayden walked up to me with a smile on his face and forcefully grabbed my arm, twisting it behind my back, and pushed me face into the wall.
“Oh gods, don’t kill me!” I gasped, looking over my shoulder at him.
“Let’s talk.” I heard him pull his knife from its sheath, and I nearly passed out at the sound. He turned me around and held it up to my neck, his face an experienced mask of calm. “How did you know about the amulet?”
“A girl…on the caravan,” I said.
“What girl?”
“She was a pilgrim, from one of the temples. I had been asking if anyone knew who you both were, and when I mentioned Simera’s name…”
“Go on.”
“She told me the story of the mural on the wall.”
“And how did she know it?”
“Her mother, her family, they were priestesses or something, in that temple, and they had passed it down for generations. She told me if it was the same girl that I should look to protect her, but…she’s already protected, so…”
“Who else heard her tell this story?”
“Just the caravan owner, but he only thought it a myth,” I said.
He pressed the blade into my neck and I could feel the sharp sting of its well honed edge. “Who else?” he asked again.
“No one else,” I said, shaking my head.
“The girl, what was her name?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” I answered too quickly.
“Her name,” he asked again, pressing the blade harder.
“I don’t know,” I shouted back at him, struggling against the wall. I’d rather have died than put Marina in danger, on that there was no hesitation.
“Bakhu,” Simera called to him softly. He looked over his shoulder at her as she said something in Egyptian. He looked back at me again, his gray eyes searching mine for what felt like a very long time, and then he returned his knife to his side and released me. I touched my hand to my neck, pulling it away, looking at the blood on my fingers, and I looked back at him with a glare that couldn’t be helped.
“You’re going to lead all this back around to the desert plain, and when you get back to the oasis, you’re going to deliver that wagon to Siwa,” he said. “Simera will show you the way there. I’m going to retrieve our horses, and then we’ll take the rest of this back to Kel-abar.”
I nodded silently and walked towards the wagon, glad to be alive, but angry at his assault. My ego had had enough of being demoralized. I felt wounded and tired, and I sincerely just wanted to go home, but I had no home. I had nowhere in the world to turn for comfort anymore. They each took one of the raiders’ horses and started working to get all the animals moving as I led the massive caravan out of the pass.
Simera finally rode up aside of me, and Cayden alongside of her. He leaned over and grabbed her hand, flashing me a look of unmistakable warning before galloping off ahead. I turned to look at Simera. Her face and arms were still streaked black with ash, her dress stained red with blood. She was as efficient an archer as her companion, and apparently had the same enjoyment of the hunt, and yet even here in this battle worn way, she looked so very innocent. I thought I had admired Cayden, but I hated him at this moment, and the question greatly burned in my mind
“How the hell did you end up with him?” I yelled at her in frustration.