Prince Incognito

by Rachelle Mccalla

  Was someone traveling across the distant desert? Where were they headed? Was it her uncle, searching for her?

  She watched as the cloud billowed on toward the east. Recalling what little she knew of North African geography, she figured herself to be somewhere west of Egypt.

  Did the cloud of sand mark the progress of a caravan headed toward Egypt? If they could reach the travelers beyond them, would they be able to find help and supplies? Lily thought of the wad of bills the soldier carried in his pocket. Assuming he hadn’t lost them during their adventures the night before, would they be able to buy water with the money he carried? Lily wished she’d had a chance to grab her purse before leaving the boat, but her uncle had barely allowed her to put on her shoes. She’d have to depend on the soldier’s generosity, and promise to pay him back if they ever reached safety.

  The thought prodded her conscience. Would she have any way to pay the soldier back? It occurred to her that, before she asked him to do anything more for her, she ought to confess just how desperately poor she currently was. Her life had been through one tumultuous upheaval after another for the past several weeks.

  The rising sun seared her uncovered head, its relentless heat a reminder of the danger of the desert. Lily watched the distant dust cloud fade, and realized there was no point waking the soldier to have him look at it. They wouldn’t get anywhere until nightfall. And even then, without a source of water, she wasn’t sure they could reach the spot where the dust cloud traveled—even if it didn’t move far beyond them by the time they reached the place where it now passed.

  Clambering back down the side of the canyon, Lily found the shade near the spring where the soldier rested, and lowered herself down to the relative cool in the shadow of a scraggly clump of trees. The soldier lay on his back, the injured side of his face toward her, uncovered since he’d removed the sodden bandages. At least his injuries appeared to be healing, disinfected by their saline bath the night before.

  Uncomfortable at the idea of watching him while he slept, Lily closed her eyes, still pondering who the mysterious man might be. He was certainly handsome, and the uninjured side of his face looked almost familiar, though she couldn’t begin to place where she might have seen him. During her week in Lydia, she’d seen many soldiers. Perhaps they’d crossed paths then.

  The biggest clue to the mysterious man’s identity, besides the uniform he’d worn and the money in his pocket, was her uncle’s determination to capture and interrogate the man. David Bardici had gone to great lengths to get his hands on this soldier. But why? What knowledge did he have that her uncle was so desperate to get?

  * * *

  The distant rumble of a motor nudged him from sleep. He could tell from the smell of baking sand that he was still in North Africa. But wasn’t he supposed to have left? Yes, he was supposed to go home. But why? An event. He’d be getting his next assignment. It was important that he be there.

  But who was he?

  He sat up and looked around, and immediately recalled all that had happened as far back as the thick blanket that covered his memory. That’s right. He was on the run from General David Bardici of the Lydian Army.

  And what was that distant rumbling that had awakened him? It sounded as though it came from the direction of the sea, just out of sight around the crags of the canyon.

  He glanced around. Lily had said she was going to keep watch, but he spotted her leaning against a tree, her eyes closed. From the angle of her lolling head, he guessed she was asleep.

  The sight made him smile. Poor thing was tuckered out. For a moment, he reflected on the mystery of the woman who’d endangered herself to care for him. Why had she done that? He was grateful for her help, but at the same time, he wondered at the events that had taken place on the Bardicis’ yacht before his arrival. There was more to the lovely woman than she’d told him. He wanted to learn all he could about her. But now was not the time.

  He had to find the source of the rumbling, which grew louder, as though approaching their bivouac. Jumping up, he kept close to the wall of the canyon, poking one eye around the crag to spot the sea.

  There. A boat moved past slowly, the men onboard scouring the shoreline, wary of the rocks, but equally intent on their search. Though he didn’t see David Bardici among them, these were likely his men. They carried the same weapons as the men the night before.

  So they hadn’t given up their search. Having seen all he cared to, he ducked back toward their hiding place under the lip of the cliffs. Unless the men on the boat decided to beach their craft and search the wadi, he and Lillian would be safe where they were.

  “What’s that rumbling sound?” Lily’s voice met him as he settled back into the spot where he’d been resting.

  She was only a couple of meters away. If they whispered, there was little chance the searching men would hear them, especially not over the sound of the boat. Still, he didn’t want to take any chances, but motioned for her to move closer to him.

  Lily darted over and took a seat in the shade next to him. “Is it my uncle?”

  “I think it might be his men. They’re searching the shoreline. So far they haven’t ventured inland.”

  “Do you think they’ll see our footprints?”

  “The waves should have washed away those that are visible from sea.”

  Regret chased across her features as she shook her head. “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

  “Would you have been able to prevent the boat from approaching, then?” He shook his head to answer his own question. “You needed your rest. We’ll both have to conserve our energy as best we can until we find food.”

  Lily’s face brightened. “I saw a dust cloud earlier, moving far to the south of us. Do you think there might be a caravan traveling through the desert?”

  “Could be. The shifting sand makes regular road maintenance almost impossible, so traditional caravans still cross the desert by camel. But bandits roam these deserts, as well as militant rebel groups. By the time we could get close enough to see who they are, they’ll have spotted us. Approaching them would be a risky venture, especially since it seems your uncle is powerful in this area. Anyone we encounter could betray us to him.”

  Rather than be discouraged by his words, Lily’s face lit up, and she gripped his arm. “Wait—I just remembered something. The Rising Sun Horse Race is supposed to be traveling through the Sahara, from Tripoli toward Cairo.”

  “I don’t know anything about that,” he confessed.

  Lily’s enthusiasm wasn’t diminished. “I’ve followed it in the news since I was a girl. It’s only held every three years. My parents promised me that if I came on this trip with them, we could go to Tripoli in time to watch the race start. But when the time came, they decided to stay in Sardis instead.”

  Disappointment welled up in her voice as she spoke, and he couldn’t help but wonder why her parents had broken their promise, especially when the race happened so rarely, and seeing it clearly meant a great deal to her. “If we could reach the race route, we might be able to blend in. But that doesn’t solve our question of food and water.” His words dropped off, and Lily’s hand clenched around his arm, her eyes wide.

  The receding rumble of the boat motor had stopped.

  “What do you suppose—” she began in a whisper.

  “They’ve beached it. They’re coming inland to search. From the sound of it, they’ve moved south of us. If they head this way, they’ll most likely come up over that ridge, there.” He pointed to the opposite wall of the canyon.

  “And they’ll have a wide-open view of us.” Lily looked around frantically. “We’ve got to find somewhere else to hide.”

  Having already scoped out the area, he didn’t know what to tell her. There was nothing but the canyon and the scraggly bushes, which wo
uldn’t camouflage anything larger than a jerboa.

  “The other side of the gully. There’s enough of an overhang, if they look down from above they won’t be able to see us there.”

  “Assuming they don’t come up the wadi.” He peered up and down the ravine. There wasn’t anywhere else to hide. “Come on, then. We’ll have to erase our footprints as we go. If they spot those it will lead them straight to us.”

  He snapped off two branches from the nearest scrubby tree, handed one to her, and demonstrated how to walk backward, wiping away their footprints behind them as they went. Quickly, they shuffled over to the far side of the gully, checked for snakes and scorpions, and ducked under the lip of the rock. There wasn’t as much shade on that side, but the dry heat baked all the sweat from their skin.

  Muted voices carried through the still air, muffled by the sounds of the seashore beyond them. Lily had hold of his arm again, and he could feel her tension as she strained to hear, listening for any sign that they were about to be discovered.

  He brushed the hair back from her ear and pressed his mouth close, whispering, “The safest place for us is right here. Don’t panic and try to run away. We’ll only run if we’re sure they’ve spotted us.”

  She nodded. “How many men do they have?”

  “I counted eight on the boat.”

  Lily let out a slow breath.

  They were outnumbered. They couldn’t risk letting it come to a fight—though he’d managed to fend off that many men and more the night before, he wasn’t sure what he was capable of, or why he knew so much about hand-to-hand combat. It wouldn’t be wise to depend on his untested skills in defense, not given the odds against them.

  A voice carried clearly through the simmering air. “Let’s check the ravine. If they came this way, there’s nowhere else they could be.”

  Lily’s lips drew level with his ear. “We need to pray.”

  He took her hand and squeezed it.

  “Lord, please don’t let them find us,” she began in a whisper.

  He let out a silent breath, shushing her, and her words fell away, the soft pulse of her breath against his neck evidence that she continued to pray, murmuring silently as she gripped the hand with which he’d enfolded hers. He pinched his eyes shut and joined her in silent prayer.

  The soldiers’ voices carried closer. “Let’s hurry. I don’t like being out in this heat.”

  “This heat has nothing on the heat Bardici will lay on us if we come back empty-handed.”

  “He can’t expect us to conjure them out of thin air.”

  “I still say they drowned when they hit the rocks.”

  “You convince Bardici of that, then.”

  “He won’t believe it unless you find the bodies.”

  The soldiers’ words grew louder, clearer, as the men drew nearer.

  “You suppose they’re down there?” The voice seemed to come from almost on top of them.

  “If they are, you’d think we could see them. There’s nowhere to hide.”

  “Besides that, it’s a wadi. Alec knows better than to hang out there. If a flash flood comes up, he’d be done for.”

  The name they spoke lodged in his mind. Alec. Was that the name of the man they were looking for? Was that his name? It carried through the distant recesses of his mind, spoken by his mother’s voice, calling to him. But he didn’t have time to answer. He had to pay attention to what the men above him were saying.

  “Doesn’t look like any flash floods have come through in a while.”

  “No, but something’s been through there. The sand looks disturbed.”

  Silence. In the tense, empty air, he could almost hear the soldiers adjusting their binoculars.

  “Snakes.”

  “What?”

  “See the way the sand shifts in narrow trails? That wadi’s full of snakes.”

  “Poisonous?”

  “Most likely.”

  Sand rained down over the lip of the ravine, sprinkling to the ground just off to his left, as though the men had ventured near the edge, dislodging it.

  “Bardici said to leave no stone unturned. We should check down there, just to be sure.”

  “It’s your funeral.” More sand pattered down. The men who’d been crouching stood. Metallic clinks and splashing told him they’d pulled out their canteens for a drink.

  Suddenly an object cut through the open air in front of him, half burying itself in the soft sand as it landed.

  A canteen.

  “Titus,” a voice scoffed, “you need to be more careful. Are you going down for that?”

  Lily’s hand gripped his arm tighter. If the men came after their canteen, they’d find them for sure, sitting as they were less than three meters from it.

  And every soldier knew better than to let himself become separated from his water in the desert.

  SIX

  “Forget it. There’s no easy way down, and I’m not tangling with snakes over a stupid canteen. Let’s get back to base and tell Bardici they’re gone.”

  “He’s not going to like it.”

  “He doesn’t like a lot of things.”

  The men grumbled, but their voices were quickly swallowed up by the distance, and Lily’s grip relaxed on his arm.

  His gaze didn’t leave the canteen. It was a blanket-covered, military-issue four-quart desert canteen with nylon strap, the screw-on lid attached with a chain so it couldn’t be lost.

  The nylon strap had been extended to accommodate enough play to allow a soldier to drink without unstrapping it from his body—precisely so that it wouldn’t be dropped, or lost, or left behind.

  He stared at it a little longer. Why had it fallen? Had Titus dropped it on purpose? Did the soldier—it was the same voice that had declared their sweeping brush marks snake trails—really believe the wadi to be filled with poisonous reptiles?

  Was Titus baiting him by dropping the canteen? Or had he left his water behind to help them? Why would he try to help them?

  Lily inched closer until her mouth was close to his ear. “Should we take the canteen?”

  He shrugged, still undecided, and pinched his eyes shut as a name echoed through his thoughts.

  Alec! Alec!

  His mother was calling him again, wanting him to wake up, to get going.

  But who was his mother? And who was he?

  The throttle of a distant motor chugged to life. “They’re back in the boat. Let’s give them time to clear the mouth of the wadi. We don’t want to risk them seeing us.”

  “And then?”

  “When we’re sure the coast is clear, we’ll open up the spring again, drink as much as we can hold, fill the canteen, and head for the dust cloud you saw to the southeast.”

  “But it’s not evening yet.”

  “I know.” He replayed the men’s words. Bardici didn’t want to leave any stone unturned. If any of the soldiers revealed that the team hadn’t searched he wadi, the general might dispatch another team. A larger team, one free of sympathizers—if, indeed, it had been a sympathizer who’d knowingly helped them out by dropping the canteen. “We don’t have the luxury of waiting any longer.”

  * * *

  Lily drank as much water as she could hold, until her stomach sloshed with her every movement. Then, when the soldier was done drinking his fill, she drank a little more. They made sure the canteen was full before starting off.

  Though plenty of daylight remained, the late-afternoon sun was already at enough of an angle to the earth that the sky filtered its light, reducing its burning impact. Still, they kept as much as possible to the ribbon of shade that rimmed the western side of the canyon. Without proper desert clothing, lacking even hats, s
he knew they were particularly susceptible to sunburn. And they’d have to ration their water carefully.

  They started off in silence, still stifled by the threat of the soldiers’ possible return, their ears pricked to pick up the rumble of a boat motor or the thump of a helicopter’s blades. But they heard nothing more than the tiny whisper of the wind. Even the sounds of the sea faded behind them.

  Lily’s thoughts churned. She could feel a nasty bruise under her jaw where her uncle had shoved his gun. His betrayal stabbed at her more sharply than the jab of the barrel. And worse yet had been her parents’ obsequiousness in the face of David’s cruelty. They’d broken promises of late, but this was a new low.

  Rather than dwell on the hurt of their actions, she turned her thoughts to the mystery of the man who marched beside her. Who was he? And why was her uncle so determined to capture him?

  When they’d traveled far beyond the sound of the sea, Lily asked, “Who’s Alec?”

  “The name the soldier mentioned back there?”

  “Yes. Is that you?”

  “Might be.”

  “It doesn’t ring any bells?”

  “Not much does.”

  “But you know about surviving in a desert. You know how to fight. Where do you think you got those skills?”

  “When you found me I was wearing a uniform, so maybe I’m a soldier. Maybe I was deployed out here until I got called back to Lydia.”

  She swallowed, her throat already dry. “Why do you think they called you back to Lydia?”

  “There are two possibilities I can think of. One, I was part of something, maybe part of whatever that ambush was trying to attack. Your uncle said I have intelligence they need, right? So either they were attacking to get their hands on me and find out what I know, or else…” he let his voice fade, but kept walking.

  She plodded through the desert beside him, waiting for him to finish his thought. “Or else?” she prompted finally.

  “It’s possible I’m part of the rebel group that ambushed the motorcade. Maybe I know something about the operation, or maybe I was sent in to learn something.”