Authors: S.K. Valenzuela
The men around the table nodded slowly, and
Sahara glanced at Jared and Rafe. Their faces were set and grim,
and she read in their eyes their fast-fading hope. Then she turned
her gaze to Arnauld, who seemed to be caught in some kind of an
internal deliberation.
“I wonder,” she said, raising her voice above
the swirl of conversation. The men fell silent to hear her speak.
“I wonder what the Lady Aliya would have to say about all of
this.”
“Why should it concern her?” Arnauld asked
sharply.
“You know very well why. Because it’s her
blood that will be sacrificed to the Dragon-Lords when they come to
claim their right. They will come, and she will die so that the
rest of you can continue living only for today.” She shrugged. “I
just wonder if she might have some thought on the matter. Like,
that she would rather not die as a blood-offering. That she might
prefer to live in freedom and in peace, rather than in the certain
knowledge that when the time comes, her people will feed her to the
dragon because they’re too scared to stand up and fight.”
Utter silence.
Sahara held Arnauld’s gaze, waiting for him
to react. His face slowly clouded with anger, and he pushed himself
out of his seat, his hand groping for the hilt of his sword.
“By God,” he began through clenched teeth,
“by God I should—” His rage choked him, and the blade slid halfway
out of the scabbard.
Sahara jumped to her feet. “Is it not the
truth?” she cried. “You would feed her to the dragon so that you
can go on with your pathetic little lives! You have said as much
right here in this room!”
Arnauld slid the sword from the scabbard, and
Sahara pulled herself upright.
“Go ahead! Slay me, just like you are
prepared to slay her! Do it! I’m standing right here! Do it!”
Arnauld’s hand trembled on the hilt, and
after a moment he slapped the sword back into the sheath.
“It’s the truth,” he said, his voice broken.
He sunk back into his chair, burying his face in his hand. “My
darling wife would be claimed…and our brothers, sons, and fathers
would be shipped to the mines. And if we dared to refuse, they will
shut the sluice and we will be without water until we yield or
die.”
“Arnauld!” Horatio exclaimed. “By God, man,
you don’t mean you’re considering this as a serious venture
now?”
Arnauld regarded him sadly. “To save my
wife’s life, I would do anything. Anything. Even challenge the
wrath of the Dragon-Lords. If they come to meet us in open war,
then it is my blood that will be spilled. And I would spill it a
hundred times over to defend my city and my wife than just sit by
and watch them take her to her death.”
Horatio was silent, rubbing his finger along
the grain of the table. His face was flushed, and he nodded
slowly.
“My lord,” said Marcus quietly, “I stand with
you. I have a new wife, married just three months ago. If I were in
your position, I would give every drop of blood in my body to
defend her.”
Sahara hazarded a glance around the table and
saw the men nodding their heads. Arnauld surveyed the room as well,
a new strength in his bearing.
“Then let me hear ‘aye’ from all in favor of
this mission!” he said.
“Aye!” boomed the council in unison.
Arnauld turned to Jared, Rafe, and Sahara.
“Then go with all speed, and may God protect you!”
*****
“So when do we make our move?” asked
Sahara.
They were resting for the night in the same
cave that had sheltered Jared and Sahara so many months ago. Jared
had built a small fire while Sahara and Rafe had prepared trenchers
heaped with dried meat, nuts, and withered fruits, and now they sat
around the fire discussing their plans.
“If he follows the pattern,” Jared answered,
“the scout should be patrolling the dunes around midday.”
“I hope you’re right,” Rafe said, tearing
some of the dried meat with his teeth.
Sahara stared thoughtfully at the fire. “Is
this the first time that scouts will be on that ridge since…” Her
voice trailed off, and she rubbed a hand across her forehead.
“The first time since when?”
“Since my ship crashed.”
Jared and Rafe both looked at her and Jared
did some rapid mental calculations. Sahara waited, feeling a
tension building between her shoulders and in her gut.
“Yes, I think so,” Jared said finally.
Sahara dropped her eyes and stood swiftly,
nearly upsetting her trencher. “Maybe this isn’t such a good plan
after all.” She went to the urn on the other side of the cave to
refill her cup with water.
“Why the hell not?” demanded Rafe
impatiently. “You know, our honor is at stake here now! We all but
begged the council to let us come out here, and you shamed Arnauld
and the rest of those men into doing right by their womenfolk…and
now you think it’s not such a good idea?”
As Sahara lifted the dipper out of the urn
and poured the water into her cup, the dipper chattered ever so
slightly against the rim.
“What’s wrong, Sahara?” Jared asked.
“Nothing’s wrong!” she snapped. Then she
stopped, took a deep breath, and continued in a gentler voice,
“It’s just…I was just thinking. Maybe that’s why the scout is
coming, you know? To inspect whatever’s left of the wreckage. To
make sure everyone is dead.”
Rafe glanced at Jared. “What do you
think?”
Jared looked grim. “It’s possible. But this
patrol route is clockwork for the Dragon-Lords, though. While I’m
sure they would investigate the crash, I don’t know that this scout
would be the one to do it. That was months ago. I’m sure they have
already been out to the crash site.”
“And if they did investigate, they’d have
discovered that someone is missing,” Sahara continued, her voice
low. She returned to her place and silently continued eating.
“So?” Rafe said. “What’s that got to do with
us?”
“Well, it might change things,” Jared said.
“Maybe they’re on high alert. Maybe they’ve changed their scouting
patterns. And maybe they’re preparing for a strike against the
city. Who knows?”
Rafe looked from one to the other, plainly
frustrated.
“Well, what do you suggest?” he asked. “Call
it off?”
“No, no, we’ve come too far for that,” Jared
answered, his eyes never leaving Sahara’s face. “We’ll just have to
find a way to make it work.”
No one spoke for several minutes. Finally,
Sahara set down her trencher, still holding more than half of her
food.
“I’m going to bed,” she murmured, creeping
away from the fire and curling up in a corner. She pulled her
blanket up to her chin and turned toward the wall. Though she had
no desire to eat, she also had no desire to sleep, and she lay
awake, listening to Jared and Rafe talk over their situation.
“What’s the matter with her?” Rafe
murmured.
“I’m not entirely sure,” said Jared. “But
I’ve a feeling that coming so close to the crash site has something
to do with it.”
Sahara squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t
want to remember. She’d do anything to forget.
“That’s all we need!” Rafe’s voice was
exasperated. “Will she pull it together or should we just leave her
here tomorrow?”
“We can’t just leave her here, Rafe. We’re
going to need her help, especially if there’s more than one scout.
And we’re not going to the crash site, anyway—not unless it becomes
absolutely necessary. We’ll stay on the dunes and hope we can get
what we came for.”
After a moment’s pause, Rafe added, “I hope
you’re right about her.”
“I know I am,” Jared said. “Don’t worry,
Rafe. She’s going to be fine.”
It seemed like only moments later that Sahara
felt someone gently shaking her by the shoulder.
“Time to get up, Sahara,” Jared said. “We’ve
got to get on the move.”
Sahara rolled over and sat up, running a hand
through her hair and yawning. “It’s so early!” she exclaimed. “Or
is it late?”
“It’s early—a good two hours before sunrise.
But the dust storms have finally subsided and we have to take
advantage of the time.”
Sahara stood and stretched. “Breakfast?” she
asked hopefully, regretting her decision to forego half her dinner
the night before.
Rafe tossed her a small cloth bag. “Eat this
on the way,” he said.
Sahara opened the drawstring tie and peered
inside. A hunk of bread, two pieces of dried meat, and a handful of
nuts were nestled inside. “Looks lovely,” she said, closing it.
“I’ve already made your pack,” said Jared,
jerking his head at a satchel leaning against the wall of the cave.
“See if it’s all right.”
Sahara pursed her lips in irritation
.
Couldn’t he have woken me with enough time for me to put my own
gear together?
she wondered, but she said nothing aloud.
She took stock of what was in the satchel.
Three water skins, a bunch of pressed herbs wrapped in a clean
cotton cloth, another cloth bag filled with rations, and an extra
knife.
“It’s fine,” she said, lacing it shut
again.
Jared was rummaging in one of the other
wooden chests along the back of the cave. Three crossbows were
already neatly placed on the rug behind him. Sahara wrinkled her
nose and picked one up.
“What are we supposed to do with these?” she
asked.
“You didn’t have crossbows on your world?”
Jared asked, glancing at her over his shoulder.
“Yes, we did,” she said. “But I didn’t think
we’d be using them for this. Wouldn’t a gun work better? Why didn’t
you bring some from the armory?”
“If it comes to all-out war, we’ll need all
the ammo we can get. Arnauld wouldn’t let us have them. But
crossbows work well for a job like this,” Rafe explained with a
grin. “Compact, lethal, and silent, and they can take out a target
from a distance. Just what we need.”
“But isn’t it risky, shooting from a
distance?” asked Sahara, setting the crossbow back in its place.
“What if we miss and he gets away?”
“It’s always better to be prepared for every
conceivable scenario,” said Jared. “If we find ourselves up against
more than one scout, we’ll be glad of the opportunity to engage
them from a distance.”
Sahara shrugged. “Fine. When do we
leave?”
Jared straightened up and handed Rafe and
Sahara each a hip quiver full of quarrels. “Right now. Let’s suit
up.”
They stood at the mouth of the cave for a
moment, gazing out over the desert. The air swarmed with tiny
particles of sand, and the desert still seemed to be trembling from
the force of the night winds. There was no glow of light yet along
the eastern horizon, and Sahara could see the stars.
Their sharp, cold twinkling in the black dome
of Heaven made her catch her breath. It was beautifully clear, the
night sky—like it had been scoured with an iron brush. Sahara
thought she could make out patterns in the stars, but none of the
constellations were known to her.
Not that I ever paid much attention to
such things anyway
, she thought.
But now….
Rafe nudged her, interrupting her thoughts.
“Let’s go!”
They pulled their triangular silver cloths
over their mouths and noses and set off into the desert.
As the sun rose higher and they drew closer
to their destination, Sahara’s misgivings about the adventure grew
steadily stronger.
How are we supposed to conceal ourselves
out here?
she wondered, her eyes traveling over the blazing
expanses of sand.
We’ll be spotted before we get close enough to
do what we came to do.
She frowned and stopped for a moment,
shifting her pack on her shoulders.
“I put your camouflage equipment in your pack
this morning,” Jared said, turning around. “After you checked it, I
mean. So you don’t have to worry about that.”
Sahara gaped at him for a moment. “What?”
“We have special robes that we’ll put on
before we get to the dunes. So we won’t be seen. You don’t have to
worry about that.”
Sahara stared at him in stunned silence for a
moment.
Did I say that aloud?
she wondered. “Robes? What are
you talking about?”
“Adaptive camouflage. So even if someone were
looking straight at us, he’d see only sand.”
She’d heard of camouflage suits like these,
of course— they were just beginning to come onto the black market
of her homeworld when she was deported. But she couldn’t wipe the
stunned expression off her face, and she knew he must think she had
no clue what he was talking about.
He was watching her with a quizzical
expression in his silvered eyes, and she just shook her head. Rafe
had stopped several paces beyond them and was obviously impatient
to be on the move again.
“Let’s go,” Sahara said, walking briskly to
catch up with Rafe.
Jared called a halt an hour later, and he and
Rafe quickly set up a small tent to provide some shelter from the
sun. The three of them crawled inside, and Sahara got out her water
skin.
“Better than the first time you were out this
way, isn’t it?” Jared asked, watching her take a gulp of water.
She grinned at him and nodded. “Much.”
“Okay, kids, back to business,” Rafe said.
“Where are we, and when do we need to move out?”
“Won’t we be spotted out here in this thing?”
Sahara asked, wiping her forehead.
“The tent is made from the same camouflage
material as the robes I was telling you about,” Jared answered.
“Right. Adaptive camouflage gear.”
“Exactly. So the tent is safe. Invisible,
essentially.” He turned to Rafe and said, “We can rest for another
half hour, then it’s time to suit up and take the adventure that
falls to us.”
“Where did Arnauld get tech like this?”
Sahara asked as Rafe rolled onto his back and crossed his hands
behind his head.