It wasn’t a sound that alerted them to Mauri and his men but instead a small dust cloud. Bazur waited until he heard the first sounds of battle before looking over the ridge. Jediah had stayed true to his word and followed Bazur’s suggestion. As soon as they got close to the ambush site they rushed to the northern side of the valley and into box canyon to attack General Vargas’s troops before the rest of his men in the southern canyons could get started. Jediah now had a portion of Vargas’s men pinned into one canyon. Now they needed to defeat them before the rest could arrive.
Bazur looked to the high ground of the canyon below. Somewhere down there were Vargas’s archers and Jediah’s assassins stalking them. Soon the archers revealed themselves. They’d been hiding under burlap clothes as to blend into the sand and stone background. Clever though Bazur. The canvas was perfect camouflage. As soon as the archers started firing their arrows into the riders, the assassins showed up and hit the archers with arrows of their own. Jediah’s warriors then took their spots and started firing into the box canyon. Bazur couldn’t see their targets but he could hear the screams of Vargas’s warriors, filled with panic and terror as they fell. Across the valley floor, the rest of Vargas’s warriors rode fiercely to join the battle in the box canyon. They would be too late to save their companions but they could still trap Jediah’s warriors. The battle was far from over.
Suddenly, Jediah’s warriors on the top of the canyon were struck down from a volley of arrows. General Vargas had even more archers hidden higher in the rocks! Not only did the hidden archers strike down Jediah’s warriors, but they’d spotted Bazur and Kyra and were firing at them. Arrows struck the ground in front of Bazur’s face. They needed to get out of there now!
Bazur grabbed Kyra’s hand and started to run and jump down the rocks heading northeast and away from the battle. Glancing back, Bazur saw at least a dozen archers at the highest point on the canyon. General Vargas had sacrificed almost a third of his men, but he now had Mauri and Jediah trapped in the box canyon and they controlled high ground. Bazur grunted, as pain pulsed through him where an arrow pierced his leg. He ignored the pain and kept running, pulling Kyra along with him. They needed to get out of range of Vargas’s archers. They needed to get to the north side of the ridge and then as far away from the valley as they could before Vargas’s men could start hunting them down. The archers were already starting to concentrate on Jediah and his men, only a few arrows chased after them as they fled. When they went around a large boulder that safely covered them from the archers’ aim, Bazur stopped and snapped the shaft off of the arrow that had penetrated his leg. Later he would pull out the rest of the arrow and clean the wound, but for now he needed to be able to run.
Behind him, Kyra slipped on a rock and fell awkwardly to the ground. Her leg struck a large rock and made a terrible cracking sound. Kyra groaned in agony. “I don’t think I am going to make it. You should go without me,” said Kyra. “I can’t run any further like this.”
Bazur stopped and turned to check on her. Kyra looked terrible. Her face was pale, her leg was sitting at unnatural angle, and she had an arrow sticking out of her back. He felt his heart almost stop. He couldn’t lose her!
Kyra tried to get up but as soon as she tried to put weight on her bad leg it collapsed.
He grabbed her before she could fall to the ground. He then gently put her on her side so he could inspect the wounds. The arrow was high on her back, close to her right shoulder. It was only a flesh wound, but the hard running had sped up the blood loss and weakened her. Bazur ripped the bottom of Kyra’s top, making a bandage. Pulling the arrow from her back, he wrapped the cloth around her shoulder to close the wound.
“That Vargas is a tricky bastard,” mumbled Kyra as he tended to her wound. “Archers covering the archers. I’ll bet he had the same on the southern ridge as well.”
Kyra’s leg was broken. He could feel the bone pressing out of her skin. He would need to set it back in place. He took a piece of the broken arrow and handed it to Kyra.
“Bite this.”
Kyra knew what was coming next. She took the broken piece of arrow and put it in her mouth, biting down on it hard. She looked at Bazur, giving him a nod.
Bazur pushed hard on the bottom of her leg. Pushing the bone back into place.
Kyra bit harder on the arrow, groaning in agony. But she never screamed or said anything. Instead, she just bit even harder on the arrow.
Bazur took the arrow that had been in her back and used it to brace her leg.
“I’m going to carry you. Relax and I’ll get you out of here.” Bazur lifted her and placed her across his shoulders.
“I feel like a sack of meat, goat maybe…” groaned Kyra. She sounded delirious.
She did feel like a sack of meat. “I’m sorry. I need to run.” They needed to get away from the valley as quickly as possible. With Vargas having the extra archers hidden above them, the entire landscape of the battle had been changed. Vargas must have known that they were watching from the Devil’s Arm. Bazur felt the fool. He’d underestimated his opponent. General Vargas thought of all contingencies, and outsmarted him. Now, both he and Kyra were wounded and would likely be hunted down. Vargas couldn’t risk them escaping and telling the prince that he was the man orchestrating the attacks.
As he jogged with Kyra across his shoulders, Bazur calmly plotted their escape. They need to get east, back to Draisha. They had a lot of desert to cross to get there, but that wasn’t a bad thing. General Vargas and his men were horsemen. They could travel farther, go faster and longer without water due to the advantage of their mounts, but they had to stick to ground the horses could cross. There were plenty of old volcanic areas with dangerous ground that Bazur could lead them through to slow their pursuit. And horses needed more water than men. Water for a large number of riders could only be found in so many places. Westmere and Pera were the closest watering holes that could support that many animals. They would avoid those areas, head right across the badlands towards Draisha. It would be rough on them, but rougher on Vargas and his men. Hopefully, it would be enough to discourage them from following them.
Bazur ran for miles, zigging through crevices and around hills, keeping to low ground. Occasionally, he stopped and put Kyra down. He then doubled back and wiped out his footprints, sometimes purposefully stepping into soft sand heading in the wrong direction. Anything and everything he could do to confuse the trail, making it harder to track them. By night, they were far north of the valley and making their way east. But when he made camp, he could see a fire, miles back along the path they’d come. Vargas was coming.
Cleaning and checking her wounds, he made sure that there were no signs of infection. He wasn’t sure if her leg was set properly or not, but he wasn’t a healer nor did he have time to fully check it. His priority was making sure she didn’t lose any more blood. He then made a broth to feed her. “Here, eat this. You need to regain your strength.”
Kyra weakly accepted the food and water. “I feel so exhausted.”
“You’ll be fine, drink more water.”
“We won’t have enough for both of us,” said Kyra as she tried to push the water sack back to Bazur.
“I’ll be fine. I’ve been living in the badlands long enough to know my limits. I can go a lot longer without water before we have problems,” he lied. It didn’t matter how long one lived in the desert. You eventually needed water, or you died. Today, he wasn’t drinking any so that Kyra could heal faster. He wouldn’t risk her life for his own. Especially not now after it was his mistake that put her in this situation. Tomorrow, he would need to find water.
“How far back are Vargas’s men?” asked Kyra.
“A couple of miles. Judging by where the fire is, I’m guessing they lost the trail in the rocks where I put tracks heading west. They’re waiting for morning to resume tracking us. That is one advantage we have. We can gain ground traveling at night.”
“Aren’t you tired yet?”<
br />
“I’ll rest when we get you safely to Draisha. Besides, traveling at night is cooler, conserves water.” He waited for her to take another drink of water. When she was done, he picked her up again. Using his weapons harness, Bazur fastened a sling around Kyra so she could ride him piggy back without having to hold on. He needed her to conserve her strength. They both needed to conserve their strength. One factor that worked in their favor that night was the moon. It lit the desert with its pale light, allowing Bazur to make good time as he trudged across the badlands. They were now heading south into lands he was familiar with. He’d often hunted these areas north of Pera and knew the terrain well. Old volcanic rock, dangerous ground filled with quicksand and pitfalls. Life threatening land to the inexperienced traveler, perfect for trying to lose their hunters.
Spotting a patch of morning flower cactus, Bazur stopped. The gods were kind. Morning flower cactus were ugly, prickly plants with needles so sharp they’d tear a man apart if he wasn’t careful. However, the prickly plants were exactly what they needed. Taking a knife, he scraped away the needles and outer skin from the cacti. Then he chopped them down and carved them up. The cactus was filled with moisture and the flesh of its insides was edible. Bazur chewed on a chunk of the cactus as he squeezed the rest, filling an empty water sack with the cactus juice. Normally, he would only take enough for himself, leaving the rest of the cactus to the animals and men who called the badlands home, but with Vargas’s men behind him, Bazur filled all their water skins, and then took all the edible cactus flesh. Vargas’s men would not benefit from the cactus. Now Bazur had the advantage when it came to water. Instead of being low on water and desperate to find a watering hole, he could continue straight towards Draisha. Now the pressure would be on Vargas to find water. It was a small victory, but still a substantial one. The need for water was a constant in the badlands. With it you could travel anywhere, without it you died.
Pushing on, he headed towards an old volcanic area. As the moon faded and the sun slipped back into the sky, he knew Vargas and his men would be back on his trail. The fake tracks west had slowed them, as had the need to wait until morning. It allowed Bazur time to gain on them. Their hunters could move much faster, but only when they could see where they were going. As long as Bazur didn’t make his destination obvious, the trackers would be forced to follow his tracks. Today, he would make that even more difficult. The volcano was long dead, but the ground around it had been covered with molten lava the last time it erupted. The lava bubbled and covered all the vegetation and ground. The lava rocks are hard on the surface but can be thin layers with air gaps below. Often the ground below you can collapse into nothing. The gap between the lava and hard ground can be only a couple of inches, sometimes it can be yards and yards. Crossing the lava was dangerous, but he knew what to look for and took his time weaving his way through the maze created by the ancient volcano. It took three times longer than normal for Bazur to walk a mile across the lava, but now Vargas’s men needed to follow his steps, and they wouldn’t be able to ride their horses through the lava fields. The trackers would have to lead them around the dangerous ground. Once safely through the lava fields, Bazur knew he’d bought them more than enough time. Vargas could not catch them now. But it didn’t make them safe from the dangerous general. Vargas would likely suspect they intended to return to Draisha. He would have men in the city waiting for them. It didn’t matter as long as he got Kyra to safety. The prince had healers and his royal guards. They could protect and heal Kyra while Bazur worried about General Vargas.
…
It took two more days to cross the badlands and make their way into Draisha. Twice they were almost spotted by riders. It seemed that after they crossed the lava fields, General Vargas sent his men to Pera for water, leaving only two trackers to follow them, or at least only two made their way out of the lava fields. The rest made a search grid from Pera to Draisha, hoping to spot them before they could enter the city. Instead of walking into the city alone, Bazur found a wagon caravan on its way into Draisha. He paid the wagon driver a couple coins to hide him and Kyra. They needed to avoid being spotted by any of General Vargas’s men, including any spies he still might have in the royal guard.
Opening the door to the bacco, Bazur looked at the man behind the counter. “Are you Hoggard?”
Hoggard nodded and noticed immediately that Kyra was leaning against Bazur’s shoulder, still not strong enough to stand on her own for long periods of times. “Put her in a chair,” said Hoggard. He grabbed a mug of ale and a large slice of cinnamon tarka cake and brought it to the table. “What happened?”
Bazur looked around the shop, there were only two other patrons and they were sitting at the far end of the bacco. Could these men be trusted or where they spies for the general?
Hoggard noticed his look. “They can be trusted. Kyra knows them.”
Kyra looked up from eating her cake. She studied the men, nodded and went back to her food. Bazur had fed her most of their supplies, but they had run out the day before and she needed sustenance.
“We were attacked. Or rather, we interrupted an attack but I wasn’t as smart as the man who planned the attack. He outsmarted me and we ended up almost dying. I took an arrow in the leg. She took one in the back and broke her leg trying to escape.”
Kyra took a swig of ale and then added, “It wasn’t just anyone that planned the attacks. You can tell him. I trust Hoggard.” Kyra looked at Hoggard. “It was General Jasper Vargas.”
Hoggard frowned. “Does anyone else know this?”
Kyra shook her head.
“You are not safe here. Not anywhere in Draisha, not until you talk to the prince. Wait here, I’ll be back in a moment.” Hoggard went to the far side of the room and spoke to one of the men sitting there. The man got up and went out the door without saying a word.
“The prince will be here soon. He has been waiting to hear from you.” Hoggard brought an entire tarka cake to the table, along with another mug of ale. “Bazur, sit. Eat and drink. It looks like you haven’t done either in a while.”
Grateful for the meal, Bazur took a seat. It had only been a day since he last ate, but he’d been cutting his own rations down to a bare minimum so that Kyra had enough to start regaining her strength. His stomach wasn’t ready for a full meal, so he only took a small piece of cake to start. He savored the strong cinnamon smell as he brought the desert to his mouth. Even half-starved, he still studied the flavors. Tarka cake wasn’t something he’d eaten often, but he had tried the dish several times so he knew what to expect. What he didn’t expect was how good it was. The dense cake was moist and firm, not crumbly as was often the case with the cake. The flavor of cinnamon was strong but not overpowering, there was also a hint of something else… “Is that mint?”
Hoggard smiled. “You have an excellent palate. Most people don’t recognize the mint. There is also a hint of chutba peppers. Not enough for heat, but they complement the cinnamon.”
“Oh god. The two of you talking food. Someone kill me now,” said Kyra. “How did I end up surrounded by men with a passion for cooking?”
“Shut it, woman. You never complain when you get fed,” barked Hoggard. A wiry grin crossed his face. “Some people just don’t appreciate the nuances of quality food. Kyra here is one of them.”
“That is not true. I appreciate your cakes. They are the finest in Draisha without doubt, and Bazur here is another marvel. His roast jackrabbit was by far the best I’ve ever had. Not to mention the sciane.”
Hoggard raised an eyebrow. “Sciane is wonderful, but any fool can make that taste good. What do you do with your roast rabbit?”
“Bapa juice,” said Bazur between bites of cake.
“That is bold. Have you ever added garlic to the mix?”
“I’ve tried it. But it almost muddles the flavor. I find sweet and savory flavors are best. Sweet berries and salt is best.”
“Interesting,” said Hoggard.
; “Before you two start sharing recipes, can we discuss the prince? Has there been any attacks while we were gone?”
“None that I know of,” said Hoggard.
“Good, that means Vargas is probably overseeing the attacks himself. I doubt he brings many of the bandits he uses in the badlands into Draisha,” said Kyra. “He hasn’t done large scale attacks within the city.”
“He doesn’t need bandits here. There are plenty of ex-soldiers in Draisha. Many that were loyal to him were released from service after he was removed. He likely still has many friends within the royal guard as well,” said Hoggard.
“It is something to be careful of. The prince will have a better idea of who can be trusted.
While Bazur and Hoggard discussed cooking techniques, Kyra closed her eyes and tried to ignore their conversation, instead she tried to remember everything she’d seen on the battlefield during the ambush. She tried to think of any detail that popped out as strange or out of place. There was something in the back of her brain saying there was a detail she was overlooking but she couldn’t picture it.
…
Prince Valentine Astor walked into the shop with two of his royal guards, six more waited outside. He looked at the bandage around Kyra’s shoulder and her bandaged and braced leg, and then the one around Bazur’s leg. “Well, I suppose the fact you both are alive means progress. You are the first investigators to survive a fight. I don’t suppose you have any information for me?”
“Yes, Prince Astor, but could you get your guards to step outside for a moment,” said Kyra.
“I trust these men with my life,” said the prince.
“I understand that,” said Kyra. “It will make sense in a moment.”
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