‘No,’ she replied carefully. ‘Who are you?’
He bit his tongue. By the gods, what was wrong with him? Had he really almost revealed his identity? ‘I am my nephew’s only protector.’
‘And I am your only friend,’ she added.
‘Why do I find that difficult to believe?’
‘Just answer the question,’ she pressed. ‘Why is it impossible that you commanded the kick?’
‘Because a camel is incapable of learning such a command.’
‘My father will investigate the veracity of that claim. If it is a lie, you will lose your life.’
Savages, he thought. Every last one of them. He shook his head and studied the floor.
‘So it is a lie,’ she said.
‘Why does the Governor care whether the kick was commanded or not?’ he asked. Better she discover the second lie than the first.
‘It amuses my father to discover the truth,’ she replied. ‘And I can assure you that he always does.’
‘Does he not have more meaningful sources of amusement? Roads to build, riches to plunder, slaves to drive?’
She would not take the bait. ‘Your story must match your nephew’s.’
‘And what does my nephew claim happened?’
She looked away. ‘I cannot tell you that.’
‘I thought you said you were my friend.’
She sighed. ‘Everything you tell me I am obligated to tell my father. Now please, answer the question.’
Rab measured out his words. ‘Yes, it is possible for a camel to be trained to kick on command.’
‘And have you trained your camel in such a skill?’
Rab paused. ‘I have.’
He had not. He knew very little about training camels, in truth. Or racing them, for that matter. The camel races were simply a ruse—something to distract attention from Rab’s more important activities. Still, Zaidu loved the races and had been working with the camel for some months now on a variety of commands.
‘Did you order the kick?’ the woman demanded.
No, he did not, but he feared that Zaidu had. He needed to protect the boy. ‘I did.’
‘Why did you do it?’
‘Because your father pushed me,’ Rab explained. ‘I was merely defending myself against him. I was unaware of his identity.’ At least it was mostly the truth.
The woman nodded thoughtfully and seemed satisfied. ‘You may have just secured your nephew’s release. And saved your own life.’
‘Am I supposed to thank you?’ he slurred. His head had begun to spin. She did not answer him, though she was watching him like a shepherd observing a doomed sheep. All at once he understood why. ‘It was not just water you gave me, was it?’ His vision blurred.
‘No, it was not,’ she admitted.
‘And you are not my friend.’
‘No, I am not.’
Copyright © 2019 by Greta Gilbert
ISBN-13: 9781488047220
The Scandalous Suffragette
Copyright © 2019 by Eliza Redgold
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