Amaskan's Blood

by Raven Oak

  “Adelei?”

  When she didn’t answer, he strode toward her. Adelei wiped sweaty hands across her breeches and held one palm up. “Don’t. Don’t come near me.”

  “I had no choice,” he whispered. One of the horses pawed at the ground and nickered. “If you aren’t Amaskan, you can pass easily into the kingdom and do the job required of you.”

  “The job?” She sprang to her toes and closed the distance between them. “Is that all you care about? The job? What about me? If I’m not Amaskan, what am I?”

  Bredych placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Adelei blinked back the tears, and her father wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Even with the tattoo gone, you are still Amaskan. No one can take that from you. The Order is a way of life—you know that—and even if you leave here, you take a piece of it, of me, with you.”

  He misjudged her tears. He would, selfish bastard. “They’ve struck me from the histories, haven’t they?”

  Her father nodded. “The truth has to stand up to scrutiny. If any spies look, it has to appear that you are not Amaskan.”

  Adelei pulled away from his embrace and kicked a pine cone over the ledge. It tumbled down and bounced off a rock before landing in the sand. Salt water collided with it, then tossed it over the crest of a wave.

  Sitting for hours before this ocean had brought calm. Focus. But now, as she watched the waves crash along the rocky shore, the ocean was the enemy. Waves upon waves of emotions that she didn’t want. Didn’t need.

  “If I’m not Amaskan, why should I care about the Kingdom of Alexander? Why should I do this job? Or even take orders from you?”

  She didn’t wait for his response. Her feet left the ground, and she was astride the borrowed horse before he’d done more than blink. The mare set off at a fast gallop, and she left her father alone in the twilight.

  A thick giggle rose in her chest. “My father? Which one? The one that sold me or the one that sold me out?” she shouted to no one at all. The mare beneath her shifted her gait in response, and Adelei tightened her grip on the reins.

  By the time she reached her room, night had fallen and most members of the Order sat in the dining hall or relaxed in one of several entertainment rooms. She avoided all of them, hand held to her throbbing jaw.

  Adelei kicked open her chest with a booted toe and snatched her travel bags from their pegs on the wall. In went clothes, travel gear, her extra daggers, and two books she wouldn’t travel without. When everything she could take was packed, she tumbled into her bed, her muscles screaming for sleep. At first she fought it, determined to leave that night and flee the family that had betrayed her, but when her body sank into the wool-stuffed mattress, her eyelids drooped until she woke in the pitch black.

  The candle had burned out hours ago, but she didn’t relight it. Something had moved on the other side of her door. That or I’m having some vivid dreams. Adelei swung her feet to the floor in one move and crept forward, one step at a time. Four. Five. Six. She touched a hand to the door itself, but nothing moved on the other side. Not now anyway.

  The bells on the knob didn’t sound, and after another minute had passed, she returned to light the candle. When she turned its lit wick to the door, a piece of parchment lay on the floor, her master’s mark upon it. With trembling hands she broke the official wax seal.

  Lady Adelei,

  You have twelve hours to vacate your room at the Order. You will be given enough food and supplies to get you to the border, and your horse has been readied.

  Tell no one of your visit and burn this.

  Signed and sealed

  by the Order of Amaska

  this 21st of Agaen.

  Below the date was the signature of every master in the Order, including her own father’s, and she snapped her eyes closed. Something shifted in the envelope, and her finger felt around until it rested on a tiny note tucked inside. The same handwriting that had brought her rushing home from the last job had scripted her name across the front.

  Dearest Daughter,

  You probably hate me. I hope one day you’ll understand that I had no choice in this. This was not my decision alone, nor was it my idea to evict you from your home, but the council felt I saw this through the eyes of a father. They are right.

  No matter what they have done, you are Amaskan. You were Amaskan the moment you came to me and dedicated yourself to our cause. Travel safely to Alexander, my daughter, and serve Justice for the people. When you find your truth, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me in my weakness.

  You still are my daughter. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Always remember that.

  Find your Way home, back to us. To me.

  -B

  Adelei crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it into the empty washing basin. She dipped the candle’s flame into the bowl until it lit the note, then tossed in the council’s letter. Both burned as she stood, waiting. Waiting for what? For the council to change their minds? For Master Bredych to— The candle flickered when she tossed it into the bowl.

  “Damn them all,” she whispered, and she strapped her dirk to her thigh. Her throwing knives she slid into their sheaths before slipping her dagger in place at her waist. The knots of her cloak were thick to her trembling fingers as she struggled with it at her neck. Adelei slung a travel bag over each shoulder and stood in the middle of her mostly empty room.

  Ashes were all that remained of her life, her home here. When she shut the door behind her, she used her foot to soften the jingling of the bells that chimed softly in the night. No one remained in the halls, marking the hour later than she thought. The kitchens stood silent while Adelei stuffed travel rations and canteens of water into her bag.

  Her next stop was a room of clothing—chests and chests of shirts, skirts, breeches, and even corsets. Anything an Amaskan might need to operate anonymously. She went for generic hired sword gear and ignored the rest. If she needed upper class clothing, there would be plenty in a city like Alesta.

  A dozen feet from the stables, Bredych stepped out from the shadows and into her path. “You’re leaving in the cover of night?” he asked.

  Adelei tried to step around him, but he grabbed her wrist as she passed. “Let me go.”

  “An Amaskan to the bone. Only an Amaskan would move in the shadows like this.”

  His words stopped her forward momentum. “I’ve little choice in the matter. I’ve been given twelve hours to leave the property, remember?”

  “I do, but surely you could rest until the morning. Please.” He clasped his hands together. “I know you think this horribly cruel. What can I do to help?”

  “Let me go.”

  Ancient shoulders that had carried her as a child trembled beneath her stare, and he stepped aside. As she passed, he might have mumbled “I love you,” but she couldn’t be sure.

  When she spun around to answer, he was already gone.

  Sadain Desert; 255 Agaen 27th

  Blowing sand whipped at Adelei’s face and left a thin layer of dust behind in the process. Even her desert bred horse nickered in protest at the sand spinning around them in varying shades of tan. Night brought neither of them relief as she spent several hours shaking sand out of her bedrolls, her hair, and her ears as it burrowed into the tiniest of crevices.

  Not even the Order’s desert tents could block out the sand, so she slept with her scarf around her face. Even then, she awoke the past four mornings with a dried-out nose. Why couldn’t the country be across a body of water? Or a forest? Anything had to be better than crossing the damned desert.

  It would have been easier to take the simple trade route through the mountains, but too many questions would be asked. Too many people to notice the cut across her jaw and her bald head. She supposed she’d have to let her hair grow out now.

  Pulling her hood closer to her face, she slowed her horse and glanced at the map through the grit. Two days at the most would put her at the border. As Ade
lei urged her caravan of horse and camel forward, her horse exhaled a muffled sigh. A battle steed like hers was built for rough terrain: muscles all over and a lack of fear required in battle. But his hooves struggled in the shifting sand.

  Days of travel wore on the body. Though they had sworn the sandstorms were done for the season, they persisted, and Adelei was grateful for the protective gear. She leaned over the pommel and patted Midnight between the ears.

  The wind picked up, and her tunic shifted, chafing the skin beneath. Each night Adelei treated her horse’s skin and hers with a thickened aloe paste in hopes of staving off infection in any wind burned areas, and so far they’d made it through with only a few wounds from the grit.

  “Can’t have you lamed, now can we? Who knows if we’ll get back home again,” she whispered to Midnight. But between the scarf’s thickness across her face, the ear nets Midnight wore, and the blowing wind, her words were lost, snatched from her mouth before she’d done much more than inhale. The direct sun bore down on her hooded neck, and her flesh burned beneath the white fabric.

  Boredom had set in two days before, and Adelei sighed. No need to practice her Alexandrian. Now she knew why Bredych had encouraged her to keep fluent. He knew all along he’d be sending her back, back to a family she didn’t even remember. Still, it passed the time.

  By midday, she’d run through a variety of grammar rules and verb conjugations before dozing in the saddle, weary of the sand and thoughts of her master. She wondered if he’d burned the plaque, too. When he’d formally adopted her, she’d carved a plaque out of a piece of driftwood as long as her arm. The wood bore the shape of a sword, and she’d used hot pokers to carve the words Motzecha Amaskan into its flesh. One in the Blood.

  She’d never thought he’d adopt her. King Adir of Sadai had declared it in writing while Master Bredych had declared it in blood. The flesh of his palm cut, he’d allowed the droplets of his blood and then hers to mix across the soil of the Order. He told her she was gaining more than a Way of life—she was gaining a family.

  Another gust of wind scattered sand across her vision, and she blinked until the stinging of her eyes ceased. And now she’d lost another family. The hollowness in her chest ripped the air from her lungs. Tears stung the micro cuts sprinkled across her face where sand had crept around the head scarf, chafing on its journey through the wind whipped desert.

  The sun almost dipped below the horizon. She’d been in the saddle longer than she’d wanted and scanned the skyline for any hills suitable for an evening campsite. Trees, a cave, a hill, somewhere protected from the wind, and yet nothing presented itself but sand and more sand.

  With a weary sigh, she nudged Midnight and the camel up a sand dune. “This will have to do. Nothing else around, but at least the bank should protect us from getting buried in this sandstorm that’s brewing,” she said, and Midnight’s ears flicked beneath their hoods.

  Adelei eased herself from the saddle and stripped Midnight of the thickly woven tent. The camel could wait. Sweat clung to her brow as she drove wooden stakes deep into the desert sand with a horizontal slant. She removed several rolled up bags and scooped the warm sand inside until they were full, then she pushed their heavy bulk over the tent stakes to weigh them down. Once secured, she crawled inside the opaque tent, using the flexible bamboo rods to expand it as she moved. Soon she and Midnight would fit inside its interior.

  “The wind is too wicked for you to be out in,” she said to her horse as she retrieved a bowl from one of her bags on the camel. She’d left any trace of easily obtainable water behind this morning. According to the map, it would be noon tomorrow at the earliest before she reached another major source.

  Water could be retrieved from the desert’s small and stark plants, but certainly not enough to thoroughly water her horse. As it was, Adelei used the last of her own water canteens on Midnight, dumping all four into the bowl for him to drink. Adelei’s mouth watered at the sight of it, but her thirst would have to wait as she checked Midnight’s hide for any signs of wear or burns. Nothing appeared on the skin itself, but when she touched his hind flank with light hands, Midnight’s skin twitched in response.

  Another saddlebag held the sealed pot of aloe paste, which she coated across the irritated skin. Next Adelei retrieved several small, dried hay cubes which she broke apart and offered to Midnight. At first, he turned up his nose at such an offering, but after sniffing the bottom of the tent and finding no grass, he dug in without complaint.

  The camel outside leaned close to the tent, casting shadows across it. He stepped away to the length of his tether and munched on what little brush sprouted. Animals’ needs met, she dug through one pack and pulled out the treated wood cubes for her fire. Adelei grimaced at the foul odor. “At least they’ll burn,” she muttered before venturing out into the wind.

  She leaned several hides and sticks together on the ground where she laid the firewood. Coated with flammable oils, the fire squares would burn long enough to get some food into her growling stomach.

  The night before, she’d choked down dried jerky and a chunk of hardened bread before collapsing into her layer of blankets. Tonight I need something with a bit more substance. The air’s got a kick to it.

  Adelei carried Midnight’s now empty water bowl toward a yellow-flowered cactus whose roots reached deep into the cool underground. She dug with the bowl until she exposed half of the plant’s roots and pulled, ripping loose ten inches of root.

  She trudged back to the fire pit where she warmed several roots until she could crush them and release precious water from inside. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she watched the root. A few greens and jerky from her saddlebags and she had quite a stew cooking.

  As the sun set, the temperature dropped. The hides protected her fire, but by the time the stew was done, the flames were little more than glowing embers. A crunching of twigs sounded nearby, and she flinched. Nothing smelled unusual other than her slightly burned dinner. The only creatures moving nearby were Midnight and the camel.

  Slowly she stretched her muscles as she approached the tent. Her ears strained above the hiss of sand blowing, albeit lighter now that night had truly fallen. The crunch from earlier reached her again from beneath her own feet, and she peered down. Blue-green beetles the size of a fingernail scurried across the sand.

  Adelei stepped inside the tent. Midnight lifted his hoof, which was smeared with the innards of a beetle. Another beetle lay crushed nearby.

  “I don’t see anything else out here but the three of us. Could you crunch beetles quieter next time?” she asked Midnight. After standing stock still for five minutes and having nothing jump out at her, she settled back down near the fire outside.

  Despite the slightly burned taste, Adelei devoured the entire bowl. Stomach full and thoroughly exhausted from over a day in the saddle, she crawled into her sleeping roll on hands and knees and slumped down with her eyes already shut. Midnight would have to defend her from any stray beetles that might crawl into the tent.

  After another day in the desert, Adelei sighed in relief at the lack of wind. Gritty sand gave way to larger swaths of grass with a few hardy trees here and there, and from her seat in the saddle, she squinted into the distance. Somewhere out there was the border.

  Two tan towers rose up from the sand about a half mile apart, and several guard stations sprinkled the distance between the two. They could see her by now, or at least the trail of dust she was kicking up. Her hand shadowed her eyes from the sun’s brightness.

  There was no need to spur Midnight into a faster pace as he kicked up his step with a small hop. I wonder if he can smell the food and rest from here. The wry grin cracked her chapped lips, and she rubbed them beneath her hood. She laughed in spite of it, if for no reason but to hear a sound other than the hiss of sand.

  Her humor was short-lived as she eyed the border, drawing closer with each of Midnight’s steps. Before, traveling alone bothered her little. She alway
s had known she’d travel home. But now—now she was never going home.

  Adelei’s stomach rolled, and her hands clenched the reins. Midnight slowed and bounced in place a moment or two before neighing his concern. She inhaled as deeply as she dared in the sandy air and forced her muscles to relax.

  She could turn back, leave now and just travel… somewhere. Anywhere. She’d be an outcast, but at least she wouldn’t be crossing into enemy territory, into a death trap. At least she’d be alive.

  Midnight sensed her hesitation and turned, which Adelei corrected with a tightened thigh. No, I’m stronger than this. King Leon may be the man who sold me over land rights, but he’s not my father. My father is Amaskan.

  And he betrayed me, too.

  She spurred Midnight forward at a gallop, the ground sturdy enough for the increased speed. Another hour of ignoring her introspective worry, and the border loomed before her. A stone wall ran along both sides of the towers as far as she could see, with well-armed guards at each gate. Simple math had her impressed as she counted the troops along the walls.

  They looked ready for war.

  It wasn’t every kingdom that could afford that many garrisoned outside the tower itself, let alone however many were inside the walls. At least not the countries she was used to visiting. It was what made slipping in and out so easy for the Order.

  Except for Alexander. As long as she’d been alive, that kingdom had been off limits. Outlawed even. Maybe the Order reminded dear King Leon of some sin or other too much. Don’t know and don’t care. I just want to get this job done and get back to normal.

  The guards allowed her to approach unhindered. Even with the scarf around her head and white clothes disguising her, they followed her movements closely. She slowed Midnight to a stop just before the gate but did not dismount. Instead Adelei allowed them to approach.