Battleslave

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Battleslave Page 6

by Elisabeth Wheatley


  Mila smiled wanly. “Even a wildcat can’t fight for itself in a cage.”

  Emalek nodded to the men behind Talitha.

  “What—!” A rope lashed across her mouth and in seconds, they dragged her to the servant’s gate of the armory. The grated door stood open and there was no sign of the eunuchs usually set to guard it. Wasari hauled her through the door all the same.

  Talitha didn’t know if she was being abducted or freed. Should she be fighting or cooperating? They’d bound her wrists and gagged her. She decided on fighting.

  “Let me go!” she ordered,words coming out garbled and strangled.

  Mila led the way, torch in hand. For one committing treason and theft of slave, she was uncomfortably relaxed. “Right this way, gentlemen.”

  Talitha cursed. She didn’t know what they intended, but if they felt the need to bind her, these weren’t her friends. They were just Naram’s enemies.

  The guardswoman showed them to the entrance of the servant’s gate. A stirring from above warned them of the watchman’s approach moments before his silhouette came into sight.

  Talitha growled as Wasari grabbed her in his bearlike embrace, massive hand clamped across her mouth. Over his hand, she followed the watchman’s dark shape outlined in starlight.

  He paused, spear jutting high above his pointed helmet. For a moment, he looked out on the city before carrying on.

  Talitha kicked backwards at Wasari and her foot connected with something. He swore in her ear, but didn’t loosen his grip.

  “Here you are.” Mila’s voice was smooth as honey. “I give it seven hours before they find she’s missing.” The guard stood aside to let the Dunedrifters pass.

  “Have a pleasant life,” Emalek muttered, clapping a final jangling pouch into her hands. “Let’s go,” he added to the men.

  Talitha’s protests came out as an incoherent growl.

  Mila pinched her cheek. “Stay beautiful, wildcat.”

  Talitha would have spat if there hadn’t been a rope lashed in her mouth.

  Outside, the city was dark and mostly deserted. Their group shuffled through the darkness of the streets. They passed a few drunks, beggars, and stragglers in the night. No one looked close enough to notice Talitha was bound or if they did, they didn’t care.

  Talitha thought about what she would do to every one of them and Ashek while they herded her through the dark corners. She stubbed her foot and cursed, jostling into Wasari. They must have thought it was a trick to break free and didn’t slow for even a moment.

  They slipped out through the pauper’s quarter, the poor section of the city inhabited by beggars and debtors and thieves. A boy with a knife stepped into their path, then scurried away the moment Emalek drew his sword.

  The walls of the city only wrapped around the side facing the Sandsea, the northern side was protected by a field of stones and the remains of a slag field. There must have been a smelt mine here at some point, but the ore must have run out long ago, leaving behind the scars of industry. Tunnels and narrow clefts in the stone and sand veined through the dune slopes. They were buried and unnoticeable from a distance—no wonder Talitha hadn’t seen them when the northerners brought her.

  Now they mined for something far more precious. The drying of the Sandsea had changed the priorities of ensaaks and peasants alike.

  The Dunedrifters dragged Talitha around a corner and she was only mildly surprised to see a cluster of sirrushes waiting under the watchful eye of five more men. She looked over each of them in turn, but even in the dark she could tell none of them were Ashek. None of them wore the bronze armor of an Ilian, either.

  “Did you get her?” asked a voice that seemed familiar, but she couldn’t name.

  Emalek gestured to Talitha, held between Wasari and Kurzik. “Here. Mount up. All of you.”

  “What about Ashek?” Kurzik pressed, his hands tightening as he clenched her arm.

  “We discussed this.” Emalek was motionless and stoic in the dark.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Mount up!”

  Slag and fragments of broken rock slid beneath Talitha’s feet. Wasari ripped the rope from around her head, but the rope around her wrists stayed.

  As soon as the rope fell from her lips, Talitha spat. She cleared her throat. “When will that bastard be joining us?”

  No one answered. Something was wrong, but Talitha was too angry to try reading it in their faces.

  “What? He’s not facing me himself?”

  “Bring her here.” Emalek mounted a large sirrush bull, scales glinting silver and black in the faint light.

  The lizards warbled, tails swaying in excitement. These were the same lean and half-wild animals the Dunedrifters had always had.

  “Bring me the ensaak.”

  Talitha frowned. “Ensaak?”

  Why would they call her by the title of her birthright if they served Naram? But why would they tie her and hold her as a captive if they were on her side? Did they plan to ransom her back to Naram for a larger payout?

  “What’s happening?”

  “Too many questions!” Wasari muttered. He and young Kurzik dragged her to the foot of Emalek’s sirrush.

  Looking down, Emalek’s patronizing smirk was fairly audible. “Be a dear and don’t cause too much trouble. We save time this way.”

  “God forbid I inconvenience you.” Talitha slammed sideways, knocking into Wasari.

  Emalek let off a martyred sigh.

  Wasari knocked her right back.

  “Get that rope back in her mouth,” Emalek clipped. “I don’t want her biting my ears off.”

  That hadn’t occurred to her until he mentioned it.

  Wasari held her bound hands while Kurzik gagged her again. Talitha kicked out, but she wasn’t really fighting. She wanted to get to Naram—and Ashek, too. This was the fastest way. She’d worry about how to kill them both once she had them in front of her.

  The Dunedrifters slung her up behind Emalek and looped her arms around his waist.

  Talitha kicked his legs in front of her and he snapped his head backwards. Groaning, Talitha blinked as her temple throbbed.

  “Mount up,” Emalek ordered, swerving his sirrush toward the desert. “We have a lot of ground to cover before dawn.”

  Talitha’s head bubbled with questions as the Dunedrifters swerved their mounts to the south. Emalek kicked his sirrush into a lope and the others soon followed.

  The animals scurried into the foothills quick as sand mice. The twinkling torches of the city were at their backs in moments.

  Talitha bit down on the twine between her teeth, gnashing in frustration. She was a prisoner again, passed captor to captor like a sack of stolen gold.

  Chapter Eight

  Talitha fought to stay awake, but the swaying stride of the sirrush and the strain of the past days won out after a few hours. Despite everything, she found it easier to relax with the Dunedrifters than in the barracks.

  She’d been at their mercy before. Anything they wanted to do to her, they would have done already or they were waiting. Either way, there wasn’t anything to be gained by staying on guard.

  Emalek’s armor chafed against her cheek, but she eventually nodded off. She jolted awake when he shrugged and she slipped.

  “You were snoring,” he grumbled.

  Talitha growled a profanity-laden response. She still had the twine tied between her teeth. She gnashed her jaw, gnawing at the thinning rope.

  The sun was just coming up and the sands were alight with gold. At dawn and dusk, the desert became thing of a beauty, a thing to be loved.

  She twisted her wrists on the other side of Emalek’s waist.

  “You know I can see if your bonds get loose, don’t you?”

  Talitha cursed and clamped her jaw down harder. As she’d slept, her teeth had worn at the gag. Soaked with spit and breaking, the threads had started to fray. Chewing harder, Talitha set to work.

  “Are we close?” Kur
zik asked, ever an impatient youngling. He yawned, shaking his head.

  For once, Emalek didn’t have a sarcastic response. “A few more leagues, I think.”

  Talitha twisted her head to the side, working at the gag.

  “I hear you chewing back there,” Emalek muttered. “It’s disgusting. Like listening to a sirrush drink.”

  Talitha spat out the corners as the threads snapped. After the first few gave way, the rest soon followed. She spat, spittle and frayed threads spattering over Emalek’s shoulder.

  He shuddered. “By Anakti’s pale teats,” he growled.

  “Where is Ashek?” Talitha demanded.

  Emalek didn’t respond, but Kurzik looked to Wasari. None of the Dunedrifters would meet her eye.

  “She’s going to find out sooner or later,” Kurzik said.

  “But not now.” With that, Emalek kicked his sirrush into a lope.

  Talitha cursed, the sirrush’s sudden leap smacking her against Emalek’s armor. “Where are we going?”

  “Hyah!” Emalek kicked his sirrush faster.

  “Where’s Naram? Where would you like me to stab you first? Who—ow!” Talitha grunted as the sirrush leapt a gorse shrub and her chin knocked into Emalek’s armored shoulder. “You’ll pay for this.”

  Emalek still gave no response.

  They rode at a brisk lope for a good hour. When the sun cleared the horizon, Emalek reined in his sirrush. The rest of the band slowed and Talitha had her first chance to count them.

  “Where are the rest of the men?” Talitha asked.

  Surprisingly, Emalek answered. “They’re meeting us up ahead. Some of them wanted to see their families.”

  Talitha stiffened. “Families?” They were Dunedrifters. Since when did Ashek’s men have families?

  “Yes. We haven’t been home in a few months.”

  Talitha blinked at the back of Emalek’s head. “Home?”

  No response.

  Talitha snapped her head to Kurzik, the youngest and least skilled at hiding his thoughts.

  To his credit, the youth seemed to know it and looked determinedly away.

  “What are you waiting to tell me?” Talitha pressed.

  “You’ll find out when we stop waiting.”

  “You’re not taking me to Naram, are you?”

  “What was your first clue?” Emalek snapped, head turning partway in her direction.

  “Ashek?”

  Emalek swore. “I should have had them gag you with chain.”

  Talitha studied the dunes stretching in every direction. There were no landmarks, no distinguishing features. There were distant mountains, black pillars rising like the spines of a brusii. Those might be the outliers of Mount Ararat or they might be an entirely different range. The Dunedrifters had started out riding southeast and they were headed that way now. Unfortunately, Talitha had no way of knowing how far they had come or what lay in this direction. The maps were only so good and she had never been this far from Ilios.

  “Emalek,” she took a deep breath, “where is Ashek?”

  Silence. Total silence.

  None of the Dunedrifters made even the slightest sound. Even big and bold Wasari wouldn’t meet her eye.

  Talitha twisted her hands backwards and upwards, hooking her fingers into the top of Emalek’s breastplate. Yanking herself closer, she wrapped her legs around Emalek’s waist. She jerked sideways, toppling them both off the sirrush.

  “You bitch,” Emalek muttered.

  They hit with a thud. His weight crushed Talitha and the wind rushed out of her lungs.

  “Of course,” Emalek groaned. “Why didn’t I think of that?” He reached backwards, but Talitha clenched tighter, flexing her hands back and up against his neck.

  “Where is Ashek?!” she snarled.

  “You’re hurting yourself far more than me.” Emalek’s dry tone did nothing to help her anger.

  “Tell me where Ashek is!”

  The air hissed out of Emalek’s lungs. “Will you fools help?” Speaking to the other Dunedrifters. “I swear, this is the most embarrassing situation of my life.”

  Someone chuckled, but Talitha didn’t see who. They must have been a sight, Talitha clutching ineffectively at his throat while he sat in the sand like a flipped tortoise.

  An Dunedrifter whose name she didn’t know knelt to cut her bonds while Emalek held her wrists in place. In moments, two of the stronger men dragged her off Emalek.

  “Where are you taking me? Where is Ashek? What is happening? Answer me!” Talitha snapped her body sideways, stomping on Wasari’s foot and wrenching her arm free. She slammed the heel of her hand into someone’s jaw—she didn’t see whose—and swung around to jerk her knee into Emalek’s crotch. Her knee slammed into metal and she screamed the same time Emalek did. A bear hug from Wasari locked her back against his chest. She stomped and slammed backwards, but he was stronger and heavier. Kicking in vain, Talitha roared. “Tell me where he is!”

  Groaning, Emalek dusted his armor and smeared a hand over his face. “Thank the Lonely God for iron plate.” Still, he panted, doubled over halfway.

  “Tell me!” Talitha snarled.

  “We’re taking you to Debrei the Prophet, alright? Ashek’s aunt.”

  “What?” Ashek had family? Alive?

  “The survivors of Hudspeth. Foothills of the southeast,” Emalek explained, cracking his neck.

  “Then why…?”

  “We only found them a few months ago,” Emalek replied. “I’ll explain everything. Just come along. Can you do that?”

  Talitha glared, nails digging into Wasari’s forearm. “Why should I?”

  “I give you my word,” Emalek said, the air hissing out of his lungs. “I’m honor bound to protect you. We all are now.”

  Talitha dug her sandals harder against the sand. She was outnumbered and unarmed. She had nothing to lose at this point. It no longer mattered who or what she trusted or believed, but… “Because of my agreement with Ashek?”

  “Something like that. We and the other Hudspethites will shelter you. For Ashek’s sake.”

  Talitha’s heart raced and her fists clenched. Other Hudspethites? Were Ashek’s warriors all survivors?

  Blood welled under her nails as she broke Wasari’s skin. “You would shelter a deposed ensaadi?”

  Emalek rolled his eyes. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “Answer me!”

  “Get back on the sirrush, don’t try to kill anyone, and I will.” Emalek peered past her to the dark horizon in the west. “I’m not sure if they’re following us or not.”

  “You want me to cooperate, you answer!”

  Emalek tossed his arms in the air. “After everything—”

  Wasari squirmed as blood began to drip down his forearm. “Ashek is leaving you everything.”

  Emalek made a rude gesture in Wasari’s direction.

  “What? She was going to find out eventually.”

  “He did what?” Talitha demanded, not sure what she was hearing.

  Emalek let off a slow sigh. “He told us to serve you as if you were him. He stayed behind.”

  “That makes no—what is happening?” The hate would come back. The anger would return and she would fight for everything that was hers and should be, but in that moment…she felt used and emptied as an old wineskin.

  Wasari loosened his grip and shifted away.

  She found herself standing free for the first time in more than a day and yet, she couldn’t move. The world was shifting too fast around her. “What’s happening?”

  “Why should you care?” Emalek snapped.

  Talitha blinked.

  Emalek should have seen it coming.

  She charged him, swinging and landing a punch to his jaw. The impact shocked up her whole arm and something cracked in her hand.

  Talitha body slammed him and they ended up on the ground with her clenching his neck, nails digging into his windpipe like claws.

  “Enough ga
mes! What’s happening?”

  “Ashek—so you’d be safe—after he died for you!”

  Strong hands grabbed her from behind, dragging her off Emalek for the second time. The Dunedrifter coughed, rubbing his throat. “I’ve never been this abused by someone I was supposed to rescue.”

  “Ashek.” Talitha didn’t think it needed to be a question.

  “He’s staying behind so Naram doesn’t realize you’ve escaped.”

  Talitha shook her head. “He’s—”

  “He’s giving us time to get away.” Emalek rubbed his neck and snatched the reins of his sirrush from Kurzik. His neck was purpling where she’d grabbed him. “Which is why we need to get moving.”

  “They’ll kill him.”

  “You think so?” Emalek sneered. “He just helped Naram’s single greatest enemy ride off into the desert toward her surviving loyalists with a new band of poor bastards she’s inherited.” He gestured to himself and the other Dunedrifters. “He gave you everything, ensaak. Even his life.”

  “No.”

  “I would say yes.”

  “He can’t.”

  “He can and has.” Emalek swung the reins back over his sirrush’s head.

  “And you abandoned him!” Talitha wrenched against Wasari. “You left him to Naram!”

  “We obeyed orders.” Emalek clipped. “Since you benefitted—”

  “If he dies, I’ll kill you all.”

  Emalek’s brows rose. “Seeing he’s all but guaranteed to die—he’s actually dead already, most likely.” Emalek studied the sun. “They’ve had plenty of time to discover you’re missing. That we are. It wouldn’t have taken long for Naram to suspect him.”

  Talitha swallowed. Emalek was right. Ashek was dead.

  Like Esreth. Like her grandfather. Like her parents, her uncles, aunts, and Sargon.

  How many of her old friends had survived Naram in Ilios? Even if they had declared their loyalty and bent the knee to that fiend, he would have never let most of them live.

  “What of Gilsazi and Kasrei? Chinasa?” Talitha was almost afraid to ask. Had they survived the flight from the fortress?

  “They’re with the prophetess,” Emalek replied flatly. “They’ll meet us there.”

  Talitha wasn’t sure she believed him. What about Kasrei and Gilsazi’s young sons in Ilios? Zula, the twins, Jadiana, and those who’d pledged loyalty to her? Were their bones bleaching under the sun?

 

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