Gilsazi eased the little one into her mother’s embrace and wrapped an arm around them both. He kissed Kasrei, rubbing her back and murmuring in her ear.
An arrow shot past, narrowly missing Gilsazi’s bicep. The next moment, the room was flooded with soldiers in Ilian armor. They swarmed a protective gauntlet around Naram like a hive of bees.
“Gilsazi! Kasrei!” Talitha’s heart leapt to her throat. The two of them came running as a storm of spears launched after them.
Talitha snatched a brimming oil lamp from the sconce. Ashek grabbed Gilsazi’s arm and dragged him out after Kasrei and Talitha before slamming the door.
The moment it thudded shut, Talitha threw the lamp as hard as she could. Flames engulfed the wood instantly.
A shout came from inside and the soldiers skidded to a halt.
Their small group rushed back to the stairs leading to the top of the watch tower.
Ashek cupped his hands to his mouth and let off three sharp whistles. Talitha watched numbly.
“You attacked him!” Kasrei shouted. It was a statement, not a question.
“It seemed like the thing to do at the time.”
“What about the boys? What about what he said?” Kasrei clutched Chinasa to her breast. “If they—”
Gilsazi brushed a thumb over her lips. “We’ll get them back.”
Talitha smeared a hand over her face. Naram was in control of her city. Naram had Gilsazi’s children, Zula, if she was still alive, Saorin, Saorla, and a thousand others.
“Ashek!” Wasari panted, running at the sound of Ashek’s whistle, short sickle drawn. “There’s too many of them. There must be two hundred—Ilians—no sign of Xeram. Why are they fighting us?” He gestured to Talitha. “I thought she was their ensaak.”
Ashek grimaced. “Fall back. We have what we came for.” He looked to the others. “Let’s go.” He handed Talitha her sword. She hadn’t even realized she dropped it. “Let’s go, Talitha.”
Taking the weapon mechanically, Talitha stumbled after him toward the cliff with Gilsazi and Kasrei close behind. The Dunedrifters had begun retreating, scaling back up the rocks even though Ashek’s order couldn’t have reached them yet. In the dark, they were no more than lumps of movement overhead.
Ashek went straight for Emalek. “On your feet.”
“Are we retreating already?”
“It was a trap. Get up.”
All banter ceased as Ashek grabbed the nearest rope and lashed a hasty harness around his friend’s chest and torso.
Talitha spun on Gilsazi and Kasrei. “Get to the top. We’ll take care of this.” She couldn’t read their faces, but Gilsazi’s horns dipped in a nod before the two of them made it quickly to the cliff face. Kasrei was the best climber Talitha had ever seen. Gilsazi was strong. Between them, the baby should be fine.
The ensaadi—former ensaadi reached for the nearest wounded man. “We need to get moving. We—” She shook his arm and he fell over, dead. He must have bled out while they were inside. Everything she touched was cursed.
“Talitha!” Ashek shouted.
The Dunedrifters had toppled part of a wooden shed in the path of the oncoming troops. That had slowed them greatly, but their advance continued. Talitha’s heart leapt to her throat with a wrenching sensation. She had never been at odds with her own people before.
Spinning around, she grabbed the rope Ashek shoved in her direction and focused on the one thing she could do—survive. Though at this point, she wasn’t sure why she even bothered.
Chapter Eleven
“What happened?” Shaza demanded the moment Talitha appeared over the edge. “What’s—?”
Gilsazi’s black horns came into view and Shaza nodded in approval. “Success.”
Talitha shook her head.
Shaza looked from her to Gilsazi. “What?”
Talitha pushed his shoulder. “We need to get moving. Ready the sirrushes.”
The good thing about traveling with Dunedrifters, they were used to leaving quickly.
“Regroup ten leagues north at the foothills of the mountains. Go!” Ashek bellowed, dragging Emalek up over the edge. Ramsik helped, hefting the lieutenant the last few feet up.
It was every man for himself. They all grabbed the sirrush closest to them and mounted up.
Gilsazi grabbed the biggest one and dragged his wife and child up in front of him. Kasrei cradled Chinasa in her lap and Gilsazi’s arms reaching past her to hold the reins.
Talitha grabbed a rust-red sirrush that squawked in annoyance. She lashed her pack in place before leaping atop it an instant later.
They rode away from the carnage with everything they had wanted and yet…Talitha had never been so defeated.
Their sirrushes raced across the sands, sensing the urgency, smelling the blood. Talitha steered her sirrush after the one in front of her, not caring where they went.
The trek ten leagues north was blurred and confusing. There were shouts. Spears and javelins launched after them as they left Tivosha behind. Shaza peppered her with questions, but soon realized he wouldn’t get a word out of her.
He resorted to Gilsazi and Kasrei. Their voices clamored on in the background for a few moments and then Shaza was as silent as the others.
Ashek came beside her for what felt like several hours. He said nothing, simply keeping pace on his sirrush. After a short time, he pushed his sirrush into the lead again and Talitha followed.
Her head spun and her chest ached. She wasn’t sure she was awake or dreaming.
She kept seeing the Esreth’s dead face over and over and the back of her grandfather’s scarred head—as cold and aloof to her as he had been in life.
How many times had she thought it would be easier if Esreth were dead? Had she laid a curse on her sister without realizing it?
How many had been killed in the coup? Or had the rebels been ready to deny Talitha’s birthright at a moment’s notice? She honestly wasn’t sure which was worse.
Perhaps what her grandfather had said was true—the Sandsea always weeded out the weak among ensaaks and their heirs. The strong always rose.
Was she weak? Was that why the Lonely God was punishing her? Was this a judgment on Ilios’s leadership or the whole of the city itself?
Talitha ached. There was not a part of here that did not ache. “What do you want?” she whispered, unable to hear her own words over the galloping sirrushes. She had angered a god, that was the only explanation. The Lonely God was a jealous god, as Ashek had once said. And even her efforts for tolerance had been pointless.
Nehemian was the only one with enough allies and the support to make a coup successful. He had to be the one truly in control.
“Ho!” Their column clattered to a halt, Ashek’s raised fist bringing them to an abrupt standstill.
The sirrushes warbled and gnawed at their bits.
“What is it?” Talitha clung unsteadily to her saddle.
Ashek pointed to a dark group of figures bearing down on them from the north. “They’re ahead of us. We need to split up. Groups of three!” Ashek spun. “Emalek and Kurzik will come with me. Wasari, you ride with Kasrei and Gilsazi. Talitha—”
“I’ll go with Shaza and the prisoner.”
Ashek nodded, then continued shouting group assignments.
As he finished, the trios sped away under the moonlight.
Shaza had Breida tied in front of him. Her wrists were lashed to the saddle and her body was forced flush against his. She cursed him with every stride.
Talitha and Shaza veered their mounts off to the east, away from everyone else. Talitha couldn’t help notice it was the direction of Ilios—some five days away.
Everyone around them scattered and they sank their spurs into their sirrushes, galloping at top speed. In the dark, riders bore down on them from the direction of Tivosha and the south.
Talitha kicked her sirrush faster, crouched low over the animal’s neck. Somewhere behind her were Kasrei and Gilsazi.
And Ashek…
She didn’t know what she would say when she saw him again. There seemed at once so much and nothing.
Talitha of Ilios, greatest warrior of the Golden City, had been overthrown by the sniveling weakling for the ages. Nehemian would support anyone with a ghost of a claim who would permit him free rein in his worship of Anakti.
How long had they planned this? How long had they worked behind her back while she had carried on, oblivious? Had it all been part of a plan, bonding with Esreth? Had Naram ever felt anything for her at all?
Pounding of claws grew louder at her back. Talitha cast a glance over her shoulder. They were being pursued. She dug her heels into her sirrush.
Shaza swore, whipping the reins against his animal. Breida was small and lithe, hardly a burden at all, but the extra weight still slowed the sirrush.
Talitha had lost sight of the others. She had no way of knowing if they had been caught or if they had escaped.
A ravine appeared to their right, suddenly and without warning. It was almost hidden in the sand, but Talitha swerved her sirrush into it and Shaza followed close behind. The slope led them down sharply.
Rocks tumbled and her red sirrush warbled in protest, trying to slow. Talitha kicked it faster and the beast plunged ahead.
At the bottom was a maze of rocks and boulders. The deep gorge had probably been carved by the ancient rivers, offshoots snaked in all directions.
Looking up, Talitha glimpsed their pursuers galloping along the top of the gorge. Their dark shapes pointed and shouted, spears waving above the heads. Yet none of them tried to attack.
Naram must want them alive. Her gut clenched at that. Whatever he wanted them for, she expected nothing short of Hudspeth under her grandfather.
Brutality was a coward’s compensation.
Talitha waved her arm at Shaza and he followed close behind. She led them along the gorge wall, hopefully out of sight from above. They were forced to slow as the rocks grew larger, almost pillar-like.
The gorge was broad, yet littered and spiked with what appeared to be giant stalactites. Had this once been a cave?
She dragged her sirrush under an outcrop and reined it in. Shaza’s skidded to a stop right behind her. His animal jostled into hers and the creatures brayed at one another indignantly.
“Shh,” Talitha panted, stroking her mount’s scaly neck. “Quiet.”
Overhead, their pursuers had lit torches. Voices carried, indistinct.
“Are they coming down?” Shaza whispered.
“I almost guarantee it.”
In front of Shaza, Breida sat silent and cooperative for the first time. Talitha could have sworn she smiled.
“Do we wait here?” Shaza adjusted his sirrush’s reins. “Or do we try to outrun them?”
“Wait for them to be out of sight,” Talitha decided. “I don’t think they can see us from here.”
“They’ll still find us,” Breida said, almost in a sing-song.
“Do you really want to die that badly?” Shaza spat.
Breida said nothing.
The noise of their pursuers grew louder. In the echoing gorge, it was impossible to know from which direction. Talitha knotted her hands in her sirrush’s reins and braced herself. This was still a good place to lose anyone on their trail. Confusing and twisting, she was sure they could use the ravine’s maze to their advantage.
The chatter of their pursuers above quieted. The rumble of rocks and paws gradually faded, growing fainter.
Talitha waited several moments until it seemed long enough. Heart pouding, she nudged her sirrush out from under cover. She squinted into the dark in both directions and found nothing.
She waved Shaza out after her. “Let’s go.”
His sirrush followed, warbling softly.
A shout gave them away.
Talitha’s head snapped up in time to see a figure above raise a torch. This close in the torchlight, she realized he wasn’t an Ilian at all. Animal skins cut at odd angles draped his wiry body and he hefted a spear over his head.
Swearing, Talitha dug her heels into her sirrush again as mounted northerners came thundering out of the dark. Her sirrush shrieked in surprise and doubled down, moving as fast as its legs would carry it.
Shaza’s sirrush raced in pursuit. Its tail whipped back and forth, panicking.
It was impossible to tell how many were after them. In the dark, it might have been five or fifty. The echoing cacophony within the gorge didn’t help.
Talitha swerved around a thick stalactite, but her sirrush wasn’t fast enough. Its shoulder smashed into the stone and rock fragments exploded into the air.
Her sirrush faltered, forelegs buckling. Talitha rocked back, giving it as much rein as it needed. The animal shrieked in terror and pawed blindly, scrambling, clawing.
The animal caught its feet and they charged on again. The sirrush attempted to slow, but she kicked it on faster, relentlessly.
Shaza galloped close behind. Breida still wasn’t fighting, but she made it impossible to lean low over the saddle.
There were too many of the northerners to win a fight in these close quarters. Talitha would need the help of the Dunedrifters or at least Kasrei if she was to have hope of winning. Talitha just needed to get Shaza and herself out of this gorge. She needed to hold on.
Shooting an upward glance, Talitha spotted dim outlines of riders following along at the top of the gorge. The tribesmen above rode in single file, keeping easy pace with the hunt below.
Every so often, those above would shout. This must be what it had felt like for the ancient horses. When the Sandsea swallowed up the water, a priest much like Nehemian had declared them a luxury, a sin, and the reason for the gods’ punishment. Even the wild ones. Their slaughter was still legendary.
Talitha had no intention of ending as a corpse in this canyon.
Talitha spurred her sirrush on faster. She shot another glance over her shoulder to see their hunters were lagging. Hope welled in her chest for a moment until she glimpsed their tightened reins. They leaned back in their skin saddles, easing their mounts slower. They had no reason to be slowing.
She snapped her gaze back to the front just in time to see the rope snap taunt in front of her sirrush.
The animal reared back, but the rope collided hard with its chest. Her sirrush nearly ripped the rope free of its anchors, but Talitha launched over the animal’s withers, tumbling end over end. Everything spun and tilted and she couldn’t breathe.
Talitha must have blacked out for a moment. When she opened her eyes, she was lying in the gravel. Her arm and the back of her right shoulder burned hot. She must have reached out to try and break her fall. Lying partway on her side, her back had struck one of the stone pillars, stopping her roll.
Voices were over her. Shouts in a dialect she didn’t know.
She pulled her leg closer to her chest by just an inch and that one action sent pain through her entire body. Talitha cried out, more startled by the intensity of it than anything. Her back throbbed and her entire right side throbbed. A sharp burn pulsed at the corner of her forehead and along her cheek. She must have been skinned on the gravel.
The tribesmen were there the instant she made a sound. They stripped her sword away. One of them tore off her bracers and pocketed the copper excitedly.
Another went for her sandals, chittering something hasty in his native tongue. Talitha kicked him away. He rammed the butt of his spear into her gut and Talitha doubled over.
Someone snapped a sharp command and without a second’s delay, the tribesmen grabbed her arms and dragged her toward a cluster of torches. She groaned as they forced her right arm up, the pain nearly blinding. Was it dislocated?
“Ashek,” she mumbled. Blood coursed down the entire right side of her face. She couldn’t see straight.
Blinking against the lights, she made out Shaza kneeling to her left. He appeared unharmed, gaping at Talitha. “Are you alright?”
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“I’ll live.” Assuming their captors let them live.
Chapter Twelve
Breida embraced a large man twice her weight and a third taller. The northerners peppered her with questions and she shrugged in response.
The large tribesman said something to Breida. In response, those holding onto the two Ilians drove the points of knives, spears, and swords at them from every direction.
Talitha had a spear pricking her belly, a short dagger against her wrist, one under her ear, and at least three swords pressing different portions of her back. She didn’t move, watching Breida, waiting for the order to come.
Breida grinned, taking in the sight of knives to their throats. Then she shook her head.
The big man rumbled back a question.
Breida held her hands up, palms open. She said something that made the rest of her tribespeople laugh.
Slowly, the blades withdrew. The one against Talitha’s throat was the last to lift.
“You spared my life,” Breida said, switching to the southern tongue. “But kept me as a slave. So I will return the favor.”
“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” Shaza spat.
Breida grinned. “If only you weren’t a golden pig.” She waved to the warriors around her, earning a collective whoop. “I know the perfect place for you both.”
Already, the tribesmen had found Talitha and Shaza’s sirrushes and laid claim to every last one of their belongings.
Talitha’s bracers gleamed from the forearms of a young woman who had to pad them with fur to keep them slipping, she was so lean. Shaza’s bedroll was shaken out and worn as a shawl by the big man. Talitha’s coil of rope was taken by a man of unknowable age, with even more teeth clattering in his matted warrior’s braids than were missing from his grin.
Breida laughed, swinging up onto her own sirrush. “We have golden pigs for market!”
With a whoop, the tribesmen sprang to their own animals. They tied Talitha and Shaza back to back atop a single sirrush. Talitha was faced forward with the back of her head knocking into Shaza’s neck with every stride.
Across the dunes, Talitha searched for any sign of movement—Ilian or Dunedrifter—but there was no hint of either. The hunt must be over or else it had moved out of sight.
Dunedrifter (Warlords of the Sandsea Book 2) Page 9