Prince Incognito

by Rachelle Mccalla

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Why not?”

  “Until your uncle and his coconspirators are brought to justice, things are only going to get worse.” He continued his march southeast.

  Lily had no choice but to follow, though her breath caught as his ominous words clenched like fingers around her heart. Their situation was already dire enough. She couldn’t imagine it possibly getting any worse.

  SEVEN

  Lillian wanted to give the prince all the time he needed to sort out his recovered memories. She was having enough difficulty absorbing the reality that he was a prince. Surely the news was even more shocking to him. But much as she wanted to let him have all the time and space he needed to sort through his thoughts, nonetheless, there were certain tactical details she needed him to stay on top of.

  “You realize Sardis is north of here, don’t you?” She didn’t want to come right out and say it, but they were headed in almost the opposite direction.

  “Yes, and what’s in between us? Your uncle’s compound and the Mediterranean Sea. It’s over eight hundred kilometers from Benghazi to Sardis. Traveling by ship, even if we average seven knots, it would take almost three days to get there.”

  “So, if my parents have been in contact with my uncle, they should be headed toward the coast in hopes of reuniting with me, but they won’t make port until late Monday.”

  “Do you want to be reunited with your parents?” Alec asked with caution in his voice.

  Lily considered the question. “My father obviously called David to the yacht. My parents stood by and did nothing while my uncle put his gun to my throat.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine trusting them again, and yet, who else do I have?”

  “You’re an only child?” Alec asked.

  “Yes. I have friends back in the United States, but what use is that to us now? Besides—” she cringed as she admitted the truth “—I don’t have anyone who cares about me enough to help me out of this mess. My parents always discouraged me from forming close friendships. I’m not particularly close to anyone.”

  To her mortification, Alec stopped walking and looked at her.

  She couldn’t meet his eyes, but stared at the sand by her feet.

  “That sounds lonely.”

  The pity in his voice made her wince, though she was certain he was only trying to be kind.

  Sympathy filled his words. “Is that why you were so keen on rescuing strays?”

  Mustering the courage to look him in the face, she admitted, “I always thought I wanted to help animals for their sake. But when my father’s horses died… .”

  Alec bent closer.

  She shook her head. The wounds were still too fresh to think about, let alone discuss. “We should get going.”

  To her relief, Alec didn’t push the subject, but pressed onward beside her. “You raise an excellent question, though. We need to figure out how to get to Sardis as quickly as possible.”

  “Neither of us has a passport with us,” she reminded him. “I doubt we could cross the border into Egypt, let alone get on a plane to Lydia.”

  “A plane would be the fastest way,” Alec agreed, “but you’re exactly right about our odds of catching one. We lack both the paperwork and the funds.”

  “Funds!” She grabbed his arm in her excitement, but quickly remembered that he wasn’t just a soldier. He was a prince. She didn’t have a right to cling to him anymore. She dropped his arm. “You had cash in your pocket. Is it still there?”

  Alec fished around in both pockets and pulled out the money clip, complete with a fat wad of bills.

  “That is real money, I hope.”

  “African dinar.” He spread out the bills. “Several kilo—the equivalent of a few thousand dollars.”

  “Do you always carry so much money?” The moment she asked the question, she feared she’d overstepped her bounds, and backpedaled. “You don’t have to answer. You’re a prince, you can carry whatever you want. It’s none of my business.” Embarrassed, she decided to keep walking.

  Alec refolded the notes and tucked them back into his pocket. He hurried after her. “I don’t usually carry this much, but I recently cashed my last paycheck. Anyway, it is your business to know. Last I checked we were in this together. You rescued me from the ambush when I didn’t even know my own name.”

  “And then I got you recaptured again.”

  “How many times did you bandage my face?”

  “Only to let it get soaked in the ocean.” She shrugged. “You aren’t obligated to share anything with me. In fact—” she paused.

  “What?”

  She reluctantly admitted what she’d been thinking. “Given my connection to the man who had you tortured, perhaps we ought to go our separate ways.”

  * * *

  Alec plodded through the sand after Lillian, pondering her suggestion. He didn’t like it. Granted, she had a good point about keeping his distance from any connection to David Bardici, including his niece. But much as he knew, in his head, that her idea made sense, in his heart, he felt it was an awful plan.

  If they split up, that would leave her alone and vulnerable. It would leave him alone. Worse than that, it would leave him without her. And he didn’t want to be without her.

  Night fell as they continued on their way, and Alec wrestled with the implications of his response to their situation. He had a duty to get back to Lydia, but he didn’t know what he would find when he arrived there. Perhaps he ought to keep his distance until he knew more about what he was walking into.

  “Perhaps,” he suggested after walking in silence for over an hour, “you and I should stick together, precisely because of your connection to the general.”

  Lily stumbled, and he offered her the canteen. She looked beat.

  “What do you mean?” Her hands shook as she held it to her lips.

  “I don’t know what’s going on in Lydia. I don’t know what your uncle is up to. Perhaps the quickest way to find out is through him.”

  Swallowing a sip, Lily handed back the canteen and looked thoughtful. Then her face brightened. “I could spy on him for you.”

  He couldn’t help but grin at her change of demeanor, but at the same time, he cautioned her. “Your uncle pulled a gun on you last night. I wouldn’t want you to endanger yourself.”

  “I could be careful.” She reached toward him as though to grab his arm as she had so many times during the last twenty-four hours, but then she looked self-conscious and shoved her hands into her pockets. “I could make him think I’ve had a change of heart. If he thought I was on his side, if he thought he could use me to get to you, perhaps, just maybe, I could convince him to reveal his plans to me.”

  Alec appreciated her willingness to help, but one thing bothered him. “Why would you do that for me?”

  She looked confused. “I thought you said we were in this together?”

  “But David Bardici is your uncle. I’m nothing to you. Why side with me instead of him?”

  “You’re the rightful prince. Your family was unjustly attacked by my uncle—the same man who put a gun to my throat.”

  “Do you think he had any intention of pulling the trigger?”

  The shadows that flitted across her face looked all the more haunted in the moonlight. “Was the safety on or off?”

  Alec didn’t have to think. He recalled that detail with clarity. Though he’d replayed the scene in his mind a hundred times, wishing he’d simply ripped the gun from the general’s hands, it would have been too risky under the circumstances. Lily could have been shot too easily, and he wasn’t about to take chances on her life. Instead, he’d been forced to submit to the general’s demands. “Off.”

  “So, he coul
d have shot me. He could have stumbled when the boat rocked, or he could have twitched a little too much and I’d be dead?”

  Unable to say the words out loud, Alec simply nodded.

  “Then how can you ask why I’m siding with you over him?” she shouted into the empty night. “You pulled me out of the ocean when my leg was caught by the rope. You swung me around the precipice and didn’t let me drop. You’re sharing your water with me, even though keeping it to yourself would mean getting to civilization without dying of dehydration first.”

  She took a step closer and looked up into his face. “I owe you, Alec. I owe you for my life. More than that, my uncle threatened me, he tortured you. He deserves to pay. Are we in this together?”

  Alec had to grin at Lillian’s angry pledge of loyalty to him. “There’s no one else I’d rather have on my side.” He thought the words sounded corny when he spoke them, but as he hurried to keep up with Lily’s determined march across the desert, he realized he meant them.

  The cool of the desert night was a small comfort as their trek grew longer, stretching on for endless miles, and the canteen he wore across his torso grew lighter as they emptied it. Soon they would be out of water. There was no sign of shelter ahead to keep the glaring sun off them during the heat of the day. A soldier couldn’t make it more than a day in the desert without water. Lillian, in her exhausted condition, unaccustomed as she was to desert heat, wouldn’t make it a fraction that long.

  Alec swallowed back a sense of guilt. He hadn’t led Lily into the desert to die. They’d had no choice—not unless they wanted to be captured by her uncle again.

  The knot of guilt tightened in his chest. If they hadn’t fled from David Bardici, Lillian would have a better chance of surviving. Would her uncle have tortured her? He couldn’t know for sure, but their trek through the desert had to be torture enough for her.

  The fine grains of sand shifted under his every step, fluctuating like his thoughts. Was it wise for them to head into the desert, not knowing when they might find water again? Or should he, for Lillian’s sake, let them be captured again? At least then she’d probably get food and water.

  But then, he didn’t have the right to barter with his own life. He had a duty to the Lydian crown, and that duty hastened his every step. He couldn’t let them be recaptured. He had to find his family.

  Ridges of sand barred their path like small walls, each one an obstacle to be vaulted. Lillian had valiantly hurdled hundreds of them, but as the night wore on the formations grew more dramatic, the barriers higher. She wavered visibly as she faced a ridge of sand that came up past her knees.

  Alec scooped her up in his arms, settling her back on her feet on the other side.

  She made no sound but held on to him for just a second as she regained her balance. Her eyes met his, and she mouthed a thank-you before plodding on.

  After a few more steps they met another ridge, and Alec lifted her over this one, as well.

  Ridge after ridge, the sand, swept by endless desert winds, rippled ever higher, almost as though the desert resented their progress, as though the sand itself was trying to bar their way, and prevent them from going any farther. Alec knew enough of the North African sky to keep them headed southeast, as the stars waltzed a slow dance through the heavens in a timeless pattern that had guided many a desert caravan over the ages.

  When they reached a ridge as high as Lily’s waist, Alec did his best to swing his leg over, to step gracefully in spite of his exhaustion, but he underestimated the sand barrier, or overestimated his strength. Somehow, he caught his hip on the ridge and they tumbled down the soft side to the valley below.

  He lay as he had landed, the sand prickling the scars on the left side of his face, the fine grains spilling into his nostrils, his ears, his eyes. It already filled his boots and every inch of his clothing, covering him, claiming him, threatening to bury him alive.

  Lily crawled over and wiped his right cheek clear of sand. “Maybe we should just rest here for now.” Her words slurred with exhaustion.

  Alec closed his eyes, his body relaxing into the sand, the breeze pattering fine grains against them. If they stayed put, they’d be buried soon enough. “If your uncle sends men to check the wadi again, if any of our footprints weren’t filled in with sand, and they realize we’re headed south…” He paused to moisten his mouth, the words sticking in the dry heat. “They could come after us by helicopter, or on camels or horseback. It wouldn’t take long for them to catch up to us. We’ll be easy enough to spot in the open desert.”

  “Then we should get going,” Lily said, but didn’t move.

  “If they catch up to us, they’ll have water. He’s your uncle. You’ll be safe.”

  Her mouth hung open just a moment before she closed it against the blowing sand. “What about you? He’ll torture you again.”

  “Will he? I might be able to escape. If I die out here, I won’t be any help to my family.”

  “You’re not going to die.”

  “Maybe we should go back toward the wadi. At least there we had water.”

  “No. We wouldn’t make it anyway.” She swallowed. “Not before the sun rises.”

  “What are we headed toward?”

  “The blowing sand I saw.”

  “Was it a mirage?”

  She lay silent in the sand for several long moments, until Alec began to fear she’d passed out from dehydration.

  But then the stubborn woman spoke. “I’d rather die chasing a dream than giving up. The Rising Sun Horse Race runs somewhere ahead of us. As long as our trail leads toward it, I have hope. If we turn around—” her voice stilled, and it took her several moments to muster up the strength to finish her thought “—my uncle wins.”

  Alec understood. Pride and affection rose inside him, that Lillian would fight so valiantly, that she’d struggle on against all odds. He pushed himself to his knees, then to standing. When she clambered up next to him he held out his hand to help her up, and met her eyes.

  “You’d make a good soldier.” It was the highest compliment he could give her.

  Her smile was weary, and he felt a tug of affection as she met his eyes. “Which way?”

  “We can follow this valley a little longer. Maybe we’ll find a lower ridge up ahead.”

  They made their way zigzagging along, down valleys, across ridges and down valleys again. Lillian increasingly leaned on him, and he was glad for it. Together they emptied the last few swallows of water from the canteen.

  The ridges grew higher, until he couldn’t see over them at all. Too soon the eastern sky grew sickly green, an ill portent of the desert’s inevitable heat. He carried Lily up the next wall of sand, scooting down the other side and hauling them both to their feet.

  Her head rested against his shirt, her weakening fingers clasping the thin fabric, a symbol of her tenuous hold on receding hope. He’d long ago accepted that they might not make it through the desert, but somewhere along the line, he’d tacitly vowed to keep trying for Lillian’s sake. But before moving on, he let her hold on to him, let his arms wrap around her shoulders in something like an embrace.

  As they’d trudged through the desert, his memory had returned in layers, peeling back like the ever-growing ridges they climbed. Holding her now, he picked through those memories for any inkling that there might have been another woman in his past, any other girl he’d held on to, not wanting to let her go.

  There was no one. It came as bittersweet relief; sweet because he wanted Lily to be the only one, sorrowful because he didn’t know how much longer they had together. Had the endless sands already buried his future, and hers?

  She shifted against him, and he looked down to find her blinking up at him. “We should keep moving.”

  He brushed granules of sand from he
r cheek, tempted for a moment to kiss her. If they never made it out of the desert, he’d want to have kissed her before the end.

  But they weren’t beaten yet, and they had to keep moving. Bardici’s men could come upon them at any time.

  “This way.”

  They stumbled down the valley, their footprints dragging in a trail of exhaustion. If Bardici’s men followed their footprints into the desert, their tiresome steps would read more clearly than a street sign, telling them they were losing strength. He and Lillian would be weak when the men caught up to them, the fight gone from their eyes, drained by the journey.

  Lillian stumbled over nothing.

  Alec reached for her, tried to grab her shoulder before she fell, but in his exhaustion, he moved too slowly. She caught herself on her knees, and he hauled her back up.

  “Come on. Let’s go over the ridge.”

  “It’s too high,” she protested.

  He panted. The rising sun was warm, and the ridge was high—higher than any they’d yet encountered. “Over the ridge, there might be some shade. We can rest there out of the sun.”

  She nodded slowly, the motion more waver than assent. “When we get to the top, let’s take a look around. Maybe we’ll be able to see…” Her words faded.

  He nodded, understanding. Maybe they could see…something other than sand, if there was anything other than sand anywhere to be seen.

  The side of the ridge proved to be steep, and the shifting sand gave way with their every step, burying their feet as they went, weighing them down, until their hands flattened the wind-chiseled tip and they pulled themselves to standing.

  Alec shaded his eyes as he peered across the glaring white.

  Lily tugged on his arm. “There.” She pointed farther east.

  Sand billowed high into the air. Something was there—a herd of wild jackals, maybe, or a convoy of Bardici’s men, but certainly something. They wouldn’t know what it was until they made it over a few more ridges.

  An eager grin cracked Lily’s dried lips. “Let’s go.”