She spun to avoid the expected attack from the hyena. Teeth marks raked across her shoulder.
With the beast in close, she pivoted and sliced through its throat. A breath later, the hyena lay dead. In death, both her opponents had changed from their assumed forms into smooth-skinned, grayish creatures with oddly bent limbs, slender bodies, and featureless faces.
She looked to Qasim. He and the other man had survived. Both bled from cuts on their arms and legs.
Qasim gave her a slight nod of genuine appreciation. She returned it and scanned the rest of camp.
It lay in ruins with bodies of both man and ghul strewn about. Thankfully there seemed to be far more of the grayish creatures dead than those of the Host.
She caught a glimpse of several hyenas loping away as they escaped. Howls rang out in the night.
Over the howls, Melek barked orders with stabbing hand motions. Those least injured set up a perimeter around camp while others tended to the wounded. Khalil and the other sorcerers helped heal those in need.
With everything seemingly under control, Andrasta did one more scan of the ground. Close to thirty-five ghuls died. The Host lost eight men with ten more wounded.
We won, but not convincingly. And only after Melek and Omar organized the men into teams and the sorcerers took the field.
She rubbed sweat dripping off her brow with the back of her hand.
Time to rethink strategy.
* * *
It took everything Melek had not to take his anger at himself out on his men. He had expected an attack. He had set up patrols, but in hindsight, not nearly enough.
Another setback. Another failure. Get your mind right, Melek. He clenched his fists. You’re supposed to be better than this. You’ve studied the annals.
Melek issued his last order and went to help with the wounded.
Andrasta stood before him, waiting. Sweat ran in rivulets down her dark skin. The woman’s braids had begun to come out of their bindings. Specks of grayish gore entwined itself in her curly hair. Blood stained her shirt over her right shoulder where she bore a wound from hyena teeth.
One hand rested on a sheathed dagger. The other on her sword.
By Hubul, I don’t think there’s another woman like her alive. He shook away ill-timed thoughts and gestured toward her weapons. “Expect another attack?”
“No. But I plan to join the others keeping watch on the perimeter shortly.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“It’s where I’ll be of most use.” She nodded to a man sewing up a flap of skin on a soldier’s forehead. “Tending to the wounded has never been my strength, and I won’t just stand around doing nothing.”
“So, you’re giving the orders now?” asked Melek, with a slight edge to his voice.
“No. But we need to talk about the attack. And the losses.”
“I expected them to attack eventually,” he said, struggling whether to admit fault or feign strength. “Just not with so many so soon. We’ll be ready next time.”
“The teams you and Omar formed worked well. It saved a lot of lives. But I think we can improve the formations. I’ll show you my ideas tomorrow.”
Melek’s eyes narrowed. Though he appreciated Andrasta’s skill, he never allowed his own men to speak to him so frankly, let alone someone not of the Host. “I don’t recall asking your advice.”
She ignored him. “Having seen the ghuls in action, most of the forms you had me teaching your men will do little against their recklessness, especially if the majority have shifted into hyenas. To win, we’ll need to fight as small units and watch each other’s blind spots. That should counter some of the strength and speed of the ghuls. I think you should decide the makeup of each team.”
Melek’s mouth formed a thin line. Warm sweat dripped from his brow as he tried to control himself. It’s bad enough I see the mistakes, I don’t need others to point them out to me.
He tempered his tone. “I have a great deal of respect for you, but you presume too much speaking to me like this.”
Andrasta narrowed her eyes. “And you presume too much if you think I will be ordered around like one of your men. Remember, I’m not doing this for Hubul. If I have to hurt your feelings to get the job done then so be it.”
He was ready to lash out at the woman, but he stopped at Andrasta’s raised hand.
“I’m being too forward. The decision is obviously yours. However, I strongly urge you to consider what I’ve said. Maybe we can talk later after both of us have calmed down from the fight.”
His racing heart stilled. “Very well. Tomorrow morning before we ride.”
She spun on her heels. “I’ll be at the eastern side of the perimeter.”
Melek stared at Andrasta’s retreating back as Khalil walked up.
“Thankfully, no one else heard that exchange,” said the sorcerer.
“Except you?”
“Except me.”
“She’s right, you know.”
“Right or not, she had no right to speak to you like that, and I would encourage you not to let her do so again. The last thing we need before facing Hubul’s son is for the men to think you aren’t in complete command.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“I just tried to reach Afeef and those in his unit. I discovered they’re all dead.”
Melek sighed. “I assumed as much after the attack. We haven’t heard from them in days and they were right in the heart of the Empty-Hand Desert. The lack of communication was another missed warning.”
“Well, we know now.”
He watched several men start digging graves for the fallen. Some know too well.
He turned his attention back to Andrasta as she took her place at the perimeter of camp. Previous thoughts returned.
A strange but remarkable woman. One full of mysteries.
“I hope that look in your eyes is simply one of admiration.”
Melek looked to the old sorcerer. “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean. I shouldn’t have to remind you of your commitment to Hubul and his mission. Especially not after the speech you gave me only days ago.”
“Do you really think I’m going to just go run off with the first woman that intrigues me and forget about every promise I’ve ever made to Hubul?”
“No, I don’t. By the way, our trackers have found a path to help us catch up to Shadya.”
Melek glanced back in Andrasta’s direction.
If we succeed, then my commitment to Hubul has been fulfilled. And then . . .
CHAPTER 20
The days and nights after Rondel’s first meeting with Nasnas moved at a furious pace. Little was said to him as they traveled the desert, except when he and Athar were alone and they continued taunting each other. He knew that after the ritual, the barbs directed at Athar would come back to haunt him. He didn’t care. He assumed his life was forfeit anyway, and the activity at least gave him something to pass the time.
Maybe it’s also my way to pretend Andrasta is here with me given how much she hated him as a camel.
Shadya became aloof. Since his outburst toward Nasnas, conversations remained brief and to the point.
Her body seemed to change at a constant rate. She looked like someone in the last stages of pregnancy.
Activity at camp each night continued to increase as Shadya and Nasnas practically held a forum with djinns, ghuls, and other more natural predators of the desert, like vipers, cheetahs, and wolves.
A general calling in his troops. And the larger his army gets, the more likely he’ll succeed, he thought, hopelessness tugging at the back of his mind. The millennia old struggle wasn’t his, but that didn’t mean he wanted the half-god to succeed.
Screw him and the one-legged camel he rode in on.
After the fourth day of such comings and goings, he asked Shadya for confirmation about the many creatures.
She had said. “Yes, they are the important pieces
of Nasnas’s army.”
An army of uglies.
Eight days after meeting Nasnas, Rondel watched the half-god race along in the distance, bounding over sand dunes and leaping clusters of black boulders with ease. Off on another mysterious task. He almost laughed at the absurdity of the scene, especially since Nasnas did hop with surprising grace.
Like a one-legged jack rabbit.
It was easier to joke about things since Nasnas had for the most part, thankfully kept his distance from Rondel since their first encounter. So long as he avoided the sheared side of Nasnas, he was better able to keep his fear of the deity under control.
“Impressive, is he not?”
Rondel turned toward Shadya. As much as he despised her for her manipulations, he actually missed her.
“Surprisingly so,” he admitted.
“Think how patient he’s been, and how he’s survived so long in that state. It speaks highly of the type of leader he’ll be.”
He snorted. “With the Host nowhere near us, he does appear to have a leg up on Hubul.”
Shadya raised an eyebrow at his bad pun, but didn’t acknowledge it otherwise. It seemed that she wasn’t as offended by such comments when Nasnas wasn’t around. “We’re ahead of the Host. But they’re slowly gaining on us.”
Rondel straightened in the saddle. The news had been the first offered to him in some time.
Perhaps there’s a chance they’ll save me.
Get a grip, Rondel. You helped steal the mask which will be used to raise their greatest enemy. Being bled out in some bizarre ritual might actually be less painful than having the Host capture you.
“Is that so?” he asked, finally.
“We’ve already sent several smaller groups of ghuls to attack them, but they haven’t inflicted the damage we had hoped for.” She pointed in the direction of the trailing dust left by Nasnas. “He’s off to lead the next attack.”
“You sound worried.”
She bristled. “Worried? No. The Host is weaker than I have ever seen them. The fact that you and Andrasta succeeded in raiding their camp is proof of that.”
“Then how do they keep surviving your subsequent attacks?”
“Luck, perhaps. Greater intervention from Hubul, maybe? It doesn’t matter. In the end they’ll die. If not now, certainly once they reach the City of Pillars.”
“But there’s more, isn’t there? Nasnas is concerned. That’s why he’s been raising his voice so much in your meetings. And last night he threw one of the ghuls halfway across camp.”
She looked away and played with her reins. “It’s just stress.”
Rondel scratched his throat. He had begun to believe that like him, Shadya was just another tool in Nasnas’s plan. Confusion washed over him as he realized that maybe he didn’t loathe her as much as he wanted.
“I thought a great ruler was supposed to know how to handle stress. He’s even begun taking his anger out on you, hasn’t he?”
She whipped her head around, brows furrowed. “Who told you that? Was it Athar?”
“No one. Just a guess based on the way you’ve been behaving. A guess you just confirmed.”
“I confirmed nothing,” she said, looking away again.
“If you say so.”
“I do.”
She smirked after a moment. “I know what you’re trying to do now, my love. It won’t work. My loyalty to Nasnas will not waver.” Her face softened and she changed subjects. “We should arrive at the city sometime tomorrow evening.”
He squinted into the horizon. Rock and sand stared back at him. Same as the the day before and the day before that. The only thing that ever changes is the shades of yellow, organge, and red.
“I know my eyesight is not what it once was, but shouldn’t I be able to see it in the distance?”
“No. The city hasn’t yet revealed itself.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I’d hate to ruin the surprise.”
Rondel decided to take advantage of Shadya’s mood. Admittedly, Athar’s threats bothered him more than he liked to let on. “I was thinking. Since I’ll sort of be like another father to Nasnas, what does that grant me?”
Shadya gave him with a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”
“Well, there has to be some benefit to partially siring a god. Will Nasnas set me up somewhere with wealth and power? I figure that if I can’t get out of this, the least I can do is make the best of the situation.”
“Probably not anything like that.”
“Then what do I get?”
“Well, the personal satisfaction of bringing him back into power.”
“And then I’ll die?”
“Don’t let Athar put ideas in your head. He won’t touch you. And the ritual doesn’t require all that much blood. It just needs to be fresh.”
I guess that’s a little comforting.
“So what will happen to me after the ritual?”
“That’ll depend on what you want to happen.”
He tried a different approach, hoping that if he got her to keep talking she might reveal more about his fate.
“What happens to you then?”
“Nasnas will raise me back to my rightful place after he takes Hubul’s throne. I’m sure there will also be statues made in my honor and servants to wait on my every need.”
“Where is your rightful place?” he asked.
She grinned. “Not yet, my love. Some things I still must keep guarded. For my safety.”
Figures.
“So, he told you he would give you all those things?”
“Maybe not in those specific words, but he doesn’t really need to say those things either. I know him better than anyone else and have supported him from the very beginning of his life. In fact, without my help he would have died at the Host’s hand many times over.”
Yet he really doesn’t treat you much better than someone like Athar.
“Are you . . . or were you . . . lovers?”
“No. Nothing like that. I do love him, but not in the way that I love you.”
He did not want to dwell on those words. “It hardly seems fair. Nasnas rules heaven and earth. You’re likely exalted above all others but him. And I get nothing.”
“I never said that. In fact, depending on your acceptance of the situation, we might both get what we want.”
She reached over from her mount to his. For the first time in weeks, their hands touched.
Surprisingly, Rondel didn’t mind.
What does that mean?
She withdrew her hand and pulled ahead to speak with Athar.
It took some effort for him not to dwell on the lingering sensation from the contact with her.
Great.
CHAPTER 21
Andrasta’s eyes shot open, hands immediately finding the hilts to her sword and dagger. She sprang to her feet, blinking away the last bit of sleep. “Everyone up,” she whispered, nudging those in her group she had been sleeping beside with the tip of her boot.
“What is it? Did someone sound an alarm?” Qasim asked as he joined her, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. The others in her squad also stood.
“No.” She had learned to trust her instincts long ago. “But something’s not right.”
“What?”
By the light of the moon, she scanned their camp. Several low fires of dung burned, more for additional light than for enough heat to stave off the cool desert air. Nothing seemed out of place with a quick glance. All was quiet except for the occasional snore and her men muttering about just getting to sleep after their turn at the watch.
Andrasta inhaled deeply, but the burning dung was too overpowering for her to disseminate anything out of the ordinary.
She worked her gaze outward and began counting sentries. Alim. Hassim. Juman. She paused.
“Where is Fahd?”
“He should be on the western most position near that rise,” said Q
asim, pointing.
“He’s not.” She swore as a four-legged shadow slunk over the dune. “Sound the alarm!”
The camp erupted. Host members jumped to their feet, hastily drawing weapons as sleepy-eyed squad leaders began assessing the situation and barking orders.
“Come on!” Andrasta shouted to her squad as she sprinted toward the approaching hoard.
Blue flashes of sorcery dashed overhead, striking at the small wave of ghuls pouring over the rise the first form had snuck over. The sorcery bought precious moments for the squads to get in the new formations she and Melek had worked out.
She reached the northern-most edge of the line of ghuls pushing forward and attacked, allowing her squad to form next to the position she established. The first hyena that met her had been injured by the initial sorcerous push. Its coat was still smoking and the sickly smell of cooked flesh hung in the air as she avoided its tired swipe and rammed her sword through its chest.
Qasim yelled a religious curse beside her as his scimitar swiped off the front paws of a leaping hyena. The rest of her squad followed his lead as they too made their first kills of the night.
Andrasta swore, but not religiously, and only to herself. She respected the Host for their skill and even the obvious camaraderie, but she was not one of them and therefore it did not feel right for her to do anything other than fight beside them.
The press of battle did not let up. Dying yelps of the hyena-formed ghuls were occasionally interrupted by the human death wails of someone from the Host failing to hold their position any longer.
Her sword came down on the skull of a pouncing hyena just as it took to the air. Its high-pitched hiccupping screech ended as her blade split bone.
She took a brief moment to scan the area of battle. Ghulish bodies surrounded pockets of Host members fighting in small squads. Two djinn battled against several sorcerers. Based on the brilliant white and blue lightning striking the creatures from above, she concluded Khalil fought amongst them.
We’re holding strong. Better than before in fact. But they still have the numbers. Something needs to change.
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