by Amy Green
“He tried to kill you,” Silas pointed out.
“Leave him,” Rae said, letting go of the clothesline and landing lightly on her feet. “There’s no time to argue.”
They turned the corner, where Samar was standing, looking anxious. His face brightened as soon as he saw them.
“I will have my sword back, if you please,” he said to Silas.
“I thought you told us to leave our weapons at the camp so we wouldn’t raise suspicions,” Jesse said.
“Did I tell myself to leave the weapons at the camp?” Samar replied. He returned the sword to a sheath strapped to his back.
Rae glanced back. “Let’s get away from here before someone finds the captain, or us.”
They began to run again. “Not much farther now,” Samar called. They rejoined the throng of people on the main street, still babbling in confusion.
“Come,” Samar shouted, waving them over toward the city wall. It was even thicker than the wall of the palace and studded with large metal spikes.
After giving a quick glance around, Samar knelt by the city wall and pulled a metal grate from the ground. “Drop down,” he ordered, disappearing into the hole beneath the grate.
Jesse followed, although his nose and his stomach told him not to. What a horrible stench!
The hole led to what seemed to be a shallow pit, small and filled with sewage that Jesse was glad it was too dark to identify. He willed himself not to look, not to breathe, as he followed Samar through the tunnel. At one point, he was forced to stoop almost to his knees. How will Silas fit? From the grunts behind him, he could tell it was a difficult task.
Finally, the ground beneath him became firm. Still, Samar did not slow his pace, ducking and crawling through a tunnel that seemed to wind aimlessly through the desert.
Jesse tripped over one of the bricks that lined the tunnel on all sides. This time, he could not find the strength to stand again. “Samar,” Jesse gasped, “we must rest.”
Samar stopped, and Jesse was surprised to hear that he was barely breathing hard. “Perhaps it is safe to wait here for a while,” he agreed.
Silas and Rae collapsed behind him, and Jesse felt better, listening to their gasps of exhaustion. Though they were younger than Samar, they were weakened from a day in the prison without food. And I imagine Samar has used this route to escape before.
For a moment, Jesse just lay there, trying to breathe and trying to stop his heart from exploding in his chest. The smell of sewage was strong, and Jesse knew they must be covered in it. At the moment, he did not care. At least we’re alive.
Silas was the first one to speak. “Where are we?” he asked.
“You are in the sewer under the city gates,” Samar responded. “The West Side is home to the butchers of Da’armos. It is the most unlikely sewer to be searched, especially on a hot spring day. We are safe here.”
Slowly realizing what he had been wading through, Jesse felt sick. Since he had been given no food in the prison, he merely moaned, trying to control his nauseous stomach.
“Of course, this system of tunnels could not be found in any of the other sewers,” Samar continued, as if he didn’t realize the effect of his last statement. “It was built, again, by smugglers. There are many of them in Da’armos, maybe even more than in your country. This is one of their secret places around the city of Da’ra.”
“The kaltharas,” Rae said, her voice sounding small and empty of her usual confidence. “They came from everywhere.”
“Again, smugglers,” Samar said. “After you were taken away, I did not know what to do. I wandered around the streets for a while, but no answer came to me. Finally, for the first time in my life, I prayed.”
At that, Rae groaned out loud. Samar seemed to ignore this outburst and continued, “I said, ‘O God, if the One who numbers the stars cares about the lives of men, give me a way to save my friends.’”
His prayer was much more eloquent than mine.
“And then I, quite literally, ran into my old friend Ha’latem. I was praying with my eyes closed, you see,” Samar explained, “and didn’t notice Ha’latem’s fish cart. He’s the wiliest merchant you’ll ever meet. Escaped from the Da’armon dungeon nothing short of five times. He was the one who came up with the plan.”
“Which was.…” Silas prompted, when it appeared Samar was not planning to continue.
“You might have seen the figures on the wall pouring the water and shooting the flaming arrows?” Jesse nodded. “Friends of mine who owed me many favors. We smugglers may be as dishonest as thieves, but we’re very loyal. And,” he added, “none of them have great love for the Sheik.”
Friends in high places. The palace wall was indeed a high place.
“Once you are rested, we will continue on,” Samar said. “The tunnel leads outside of the city. From there we will go to a small oasis known for its bitter water. They will not search for us there.”
Jesse was content just to stay there for the moment, sewage or not. It felt good to be free of the chains around his ankles. To hear nothing but the heavy breathing of his friends. To smell…. Well, maybe fresh air would be nice. But it can wait.
In the dark, Samar began to chuckle softly.
“What is it?” Jesse asked.
“Do you realize how this will appear?” Samar asked. Jesse felt too tired to think of an answer. Samar gave his own. “On the day the kaltharan sorcerer was to be executed, he smote the city with a cloud of kaltharas and fire, and disappeared!”
Now Jesse began to laugh too, remembering the panic and confusion they had created.
“Mark my words, Jesse,” Samar said. “Da’armons will tell their children stories about this day for centuries to come.”
Well, I guess I became a legend after all. It was not exactly the way Jesse had imagined it. But it will have to do. Maybe the Da’armons will even name a star after me.
Chapter 17
When Jesse awoke the next afternoon, he felt more tired than he had before he fell asleep. His shirt stuck to his sweaty skin—even the light cloth of the tent seemed to trap the desert heat. He was thirsty and his body was still sore, but there was something more than that. Something’s wrong. But what?
Everything seemed to be fine. They had left the city undetected and traveled all night to get to the oasis. There, they had eaten and then slept all through the morning, if the sun’s position in the sky were any clue. There had been no alarms, no assassins, no sign of trouble at all.
Jesse found Silas and Rae crouched beside the firepit, eating something out of a bowl. They looked clean, rested, and at ease. That’s because nothing is wrong, Jesse told himself. We’re safe now.
Jesse sat down beside them, trying to make himself comfortable in the sand. It felt strange, moving in the open without hiding, but Samar had assured them he had guards posted in a wide circle around the camp, ready to alert them at the slightest hint of danger.
“Here,” Rae said, handing him a bowl. “Breakfast.”
Jesse made a face at the small, wrinkled shapes in the bowl. He poked one. It was sticky and leathery. Kaltharas?
“Don’t be a coward,” Rae said, as if reading his mind. “It’s just dried fruit.”
“I knew that.” He popped a few in his mouth and chewed. Tough, but sweet.
“Did you sleep well?” Silas asked.
“Well enough,” Jesse lied.
“You talked in your sleep again,” Silas said mildly.
“Shouted, actually,” Rae said. “Like someone was attacking you. I heard you from the other tent and made Silas check on you. You must have been having a nightmare.”
“Maybe,” Jesse said. Something nagged at the back of his mind, something from his dream, but he couldn’t think of what it was. They ate in silence for a while.
Then Jesse remembered what he had mean
t to say the night before. Samar had insisted on silence during their trek to the oasis. “Thank you for coming back yesterday.”
Silas just nodded. “I don’t leave squad members behind.”
Rae didn’t chime in with a compliment, but she wasn’t scowling either. Jesse took that as an agreement.
Wait. Silas’ words repeated in Jesse’s mind. “I don’t leave squad members behind.”
All of a sudden, the images of his dream came bursting back into Jesse’s memory. Captain Demetri’s face from behind the bars of the prison, talking. Your friends must be prepared to reap the whirlwind they released. Darkness. Shouting. Why were there only two Guard members in your party? The dull clang of metal. Captain Demetri on the ground, eyes closed. Still breathing.
“Parvel,” Jesse said tonelessly. He looked up at Rae and Silas. “What about Parvel?”
“We’ll go back for him, of course,” Silas said, shrugging. “He will know what to do next. He always does.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Jesse blurted, standing. “We have to go now. Before he gets there. Except he might have already left.”
Both of them were staring at him now. “Jesse, you’re not making any sense,” Rae said bluntly. “Calm down and explain.”
“Captain Demetri,” Jesse said miserably. “I told him where Parvel was. Since we got away, where do you think he’ll go next?”
“To Mir,” Silas said, his face as hard as stone. “To find Parvel. I should have killed that captain when I had the chance.”
That was my fault too, Jesse realized, his heart sinking. Parvel could die because of me.
“Why did you tell him?” Rae demanded. “Didn’t you think…?”
“He said they’d torture you if I didn’t answer!”
“You didn’t have to give him the name of the village. Did you draw him a map while you were at it?”
“Enough!” Silas exclaimed. Rae folded her arms sullenly. “We can’t change what has already happened. We can only go forward, as quickly as we can.”
None questioned whether or not they would go back for Parvel. They couldn’t abandon him to die. Jesse had to admit to himself that the idea of returning home, even if it was just for a brief time, appealed to him. “When do we leave?” he asked.
“Leave?” a voice asked. “Why, you just got here!”
They turned to see Samar, crossing his arms and frowning down at them. “It would be rude to abandon your host so soon,” he warned sternly.
Silas began to stammer out an apologetic explanation when Samar grinned. “No, young Amarian, I understand. You must do what you must. I will have my three best camels saddled immediately. With supplies, of course.”
“And you?” Jesse asked the old man. “What will you do?”
Samar sighed. “I will stay in Asher, the village near this oasis,” he said. “It is the village where my father met my mother, you know. It was where I was born. It is where I will die. As they say in Da’armos, ‘Karde de’larsih.’ Life is a circle.”
“We are sorry to go so soon,” Jesse said, standing from his mat. Rae and Silas followed.
“Think nothing of it,” Samar said, shaking his head. He began to scurry off through the camp to gather their supplies. Jesse, Silas, and Rae followed.
“We are grateful for all you’ve done for us,” Silas said, “and for the kingdom.”
“Oh!” Samar said, stopping so suddenly Jesse nearly fell into him. “I nearly forgot! You are Youth Guard!”
“Yes,” Rae said slowly, looking at Samar as if he had been out too long in the desert heat. “We already told you that.”
“No, no,” Samar said impatiently. “That’s not what I mean. It’s about your mission.”
Without realizing it, all of them leaned forward slightly. “In all the confusion, it had slipped my mind,” Samar continued, shaking his head at his forgetfulness. “I meant to tell you in the tunnel, but we had to keep silent and—”
“Just tell us!” Rae burst out.
Samar gave her a scolding look for her outburst. “Patience, young one.” He cleared his throat. “What I wanted to tell you was that while you were being held in the dungeon at Da’ra, I asked some questions for you about the obidhala and Amarias’ relationship with Da’armos. What I learned was quite surprising.”
He paused, and now it was Jesse’s turn to bite back impatient words. “About the obidhala?” he prompted.
Samar shook his head. “No. About the payment of tribute to Amarias.” He gave the three Youth Guard members a confused look. “Jesse, the Sheik sent this year’s tribute to Amarias a month ago.”
“What?” Silas exclaimed. This was interesting news indeed. “But why…?” His voice trailed off as he glanced at Jesse and Rae.
“Every coin of the tribute was sent to the capital of District Four, Leden,” Samar said. “I talked with the one who led the caravan to deliver it.”
“Was he a smuggler too?” Rae asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. It was a good point.
“This one happened to be a she,” Samar acknowledged, “but, as to your question, I have no doubt that a few silver coins disappeared from the load along the way. But she swore that the rest arrived at the governor’s palace there. I trust her word.”
So our entire mission was pointless, meant to have us killed, just as Captain Demetri said.
“But why would your king send you to collect a tribute he had already received?” Samar questioned, stroking his beard. “Especially at great risk to your lives?”
“That” Silas said grimly, “is why we have to leave.”
It seemed to be answer enough to Samar, who dragged Silas away. “Come, young Amarian. You must help me saddle the camels.” Samar bustled through the camp, shouting orders to his servants for more water skins, checking to make sure the saddles were cinched tight and the weight evenly distributed.
I will miss him, Jesse realized, watching the old man with a smile.
When he turned to Rae, she was gone. Somehow she had climbed up the nearby sand dune without Jesse noticing. She simply stood there, watching the sun sink lower in the sky.
For some reason, Jesse felt like he should join her. He dragged himself up the dune and stood next to her for a few minutes.
Rae was the first to break the silence. “We didn’t complete our mission,” she said, still looking out at the desert.
Jesse stared at her in disbelief. “Rae, the king’s Patrol and the Da’armon guards were trying to kill us. The very fact that we escaped alive is a miracle.”
“I hate running,” Rae said, clenching her fists. “We ran from the assassins, then we ran out of Da’ra, and now we’re running again. Why can’t we just stay and fight?”
The answer seemed fairly simple to Jesse. “Because we’d die.”
Rae sighed loudly. “It still seems cowardly to me.”
“It’s not,” Jesse said. “It’s just being smart. We can’t save Parvel if we’re dead.”
“I suppose not,” Rae said, turning to him for the first time. She didn’t look convinced. “This is not what I had planned when I joined the Guard.”
“Silas and I will keep us alive,” Jesse said, shrugging. “You can keep us fighting. That’s important too.”
“Even if we’re fighting against the king?” Rae pointed out.
“Especially then,” Jesse said. “Because, let me tell you, I’m going to want to give up, probably a hundred times, before we get back to Parvel. But you can’t let me.”
She smiled a little at that. “That’s right. We’re Youth Guard. We don’t give up until our quest is complete.”
Jesse liked the way she said “we.”
“Come on,” she said, hurrying back to the camp. “We can’t let Silas leave without us. He’d probably get lost in the desert again.”
Silas had
their camels ready, and once Samar instructed them about their route several times, he bowed to them.
“If you should ever need me,” he said, “I will be here, ready to do what I can.” His eyes glinted with laughter. “But, if you can manage not to be chased by Amarian assassins or thrown into a Da’armon dungeon again, I would appreciate it. I have seen enough adventure in my years.”
Silas laughed. “I should hope we wouldn’t go through all that again.” He prodded his camel forward—as usual, leading the way. “Thank you for all you have done, Samariyosin,” he called back.
Before Jesse joined his friends, he turned to Samar. “You saved our lives many times,” he began.
Samar waved his thanks away with a shake of his old, withered hand. “Don’t thank me, Jesse. Thank the One who numbers the stars.”
“Perhaps it was just a coincidence,” Jesse suggested, only half believing the explanation himself.
Samar shook his head. “No. He listened to me, Jesse. I know it. And now, even if it takes the rest of my days, I will listen for Him too, and I will find Him.”
There was nothing Jesse could say to that. The old man, once lonely and worn, looked content, his wrinkled face smiling peacefully.
“I wish we had something to give you to show our thanks,” Jesse said.
“Ta’el ashid,” Samar said in reply. “We all have stories.” He nodded at Jesse. “You listened to my story, then became a part of it. It is enough.”
Jesse nodded and smiled at the old man. “Good-bye, Samar.”
“Good-bye, Jesse.”
Before his camel lurched over the dunes, Jesse turned to wave at his friend. But Samar was already gone, gesturing wildly as he hurried to complete the next task that demanded his attention.
Maybe Parvel was right, Jesse thought to himself, adjusting to the swaying rhythm of the camel’s movements. Maybe there is a God after all. It was a thought worth considering.
If you’re there, Jesse found himself praying, and if you listen to people like me, please let us get to Parvel before Captain Demetri. They could not leave Parvel behind. Jesse had promised, and he intended to keep his promise.