He'd always been by her side, and never abandoned her. Even when he should have.
And she had Badru, who loved her even though it cost him the Daliphate.
And Garzel, a steady presence she knew she could count on.
And Herin, who…
Well.
Knew things. But needed close watching.
K'lrsa stepped back, reluctant to leave Fallion's sheltering warmth. "Come. Time to rest."
For now, she'd sleep and recover what energy she could.
And tonight? Tonight she'd continue her journey home.
She just hoped everyone would believe her about the Daliph's men. If they didn't, she didn't know what she'd do.
They couldn't fight, they'd have to run, and they needed enough time to do so.
Although, where they could go, she didn't know.
Chapter 3
K'lrsa seated herself on a bare patch of earth that looked relatively dry, and leaned against the wooden walls of the barn, looking around at their dark, dank shelter.
It still amazed her how casually the people of the Daliphana used wood. That they would leave all this wood here to rot when it could be used for a fire or to build something they could actually use.
Garzel handed her a dense bar of nuts, fat, and dried berries.
It tasted horrible—too much fat and not enough berries, but she gagged it down. It was food, after all, and a lifetime in the desert had taught her to never turn down food when she didn't know where her next meal would come from.
She choked on the last bit, wishing for water to wash it down with.
Badru, who'd settled down next to her, took a bite of his bar and spat it out.
Herin smacked him. "Pzah, boy. Don't be a fool. That's all the food we're likely to have for at least a few more days."
He shook his head. "I'll get something real to eat when I go into Boradol." He set the bar aside.
K'lrsa laughed. "What are you talking about, going to Boradol? We're going straight to the tribes." She glanced at the others. Did they know what he was talking about?
Herin pursed her lips as she glared at Badru.
Garzel was his normal unreadable self. Had he talked much before he lost his tongue? He struck her as the type to only talk when it was absolutely necessary, but maybe thirty years without a tongue had made him that way. Maybe he'd once been a gregarious, outspoken man who never shut up.
She didn't know.
And didn't have time to think about it now. Because it seemed Badru had lost his mind.
He ignored them as he dug through his small pack, setting aside items he didn't think he'd need and hefting the pack before setting aside a few more.
"Badru…" K'lrsa tried again. "You can't go into Boradol."
"I have to." He pressed his lips together in a tight line.
"What if someone recognizes you?"
His brow wrinkled as he stared at her. "That's the whole point. I need them to know I'm still alive and that I'm coming back for my throne."
K'lrsa bit her lip.
He'd died in front of everyone. Didn't he see what that meant?
Fortunately, Herin spoke up. "You can't take your throne back."
He glared at her. "Not today, maybe. I need time to build support. But I will take it back."
She shook her head. "No. You won’t."
"How dare you say that?" He stood, looming over them. "I'm the rightful Daliph of Toreem. It's my birthright."
Herin cackled, almost choking. "Your birthright is it?"
"Yes. I'm the only living descendent of the last Daliph. That throne is mine by the divine right of inheritance. No one else can claim it."
"Except for the last Daliph himself, of course." Herin quirked one brow.
"Aran needs to die, Grandmother. And when he does, I'll take back my throne."
"Aran does need to die, I'll give you that. But not now. There are more important things we have to handle first."
"Like what?"
K'lrsa stared at him in surprise. "Like saving my people."
He shook his head. "They can defend themselves. This is more important. If I don't let everyone know I'm alive now, I'll never have a chance to regain what's rightfully mine."
Herin sighed. "Men and their pride."
"Pride? It's not about pride, it's about right. He took my throne."
Herin snorted. "Your throne?"
"Yes."
"What gives you any more right to that throne than any other man? Because you're Aran's grandson?"
He nodded. "Yes. Exactly."
"Pzah. Like I would've ever borne that man's child." She spat on the ground, the most deadly insult a member of the tribes could give. "You're no more Aran's grandson than that horse of yours is."
"What?" Badru stumbled backward. "What are you saying?"
Herin rolled her eyes. "That you're not the grandchild of the foul, loathsome human being who raped and tortured me." She narrowed her eyes as she stared up at him. "I thought you'd be pleased."
"Pleased? But that means that I'm…" He shook his head. "That I'm no one. Just a…" He frowned. "If Aran isn't my grandfather, then who is?"
Herin sighed. "Who do you think?" She nodded towards Garzel.
Badru looked back and forth between them. "But why? Why lie to me all these years?"
"To save your life. And your mother's. Do you think Aran would've let me bear another man's child? And if he had, what do you think he would've done to her if he'd known she wasn't his?"
K'lrsa shivered. She hadn't known Aran personally, but she'd heard what he'd done to Herin, Garzel, Lodie, and untold others. That's how Herin had learned death walker magic. Because Aran had killed Garzel and brought him back over and over again just to torment her.
If he'd done that to Herin's husband, what would he have done to her child?
K'lrsa shuddered at the thought.
But it seemed Badru didn't see it that way.
"So you lied?" Badru glared down at her. "You made me believe I was someone when I'm really no one?" He trembled with emotion, his entire body shaking. "But then why help me become Daliph?"
Herin laughed. "That was my proudest moment, watching them crown you Daliph. Think. All of Aran's sons and grandsons were dead. He was dead. All of them gone. No drop of his blood left on earth. And you, a child of the tribes, my grandchild, took his place."
She smiled, relishing the memory. "It was my final victory over him."
K'lrsa moved close enough to touch Badru's leg. "Isn't this good news, Badru? It means he's not part of you. Wouldn't you rather be Garzel's grandson than Aran's?"
He stared down at her for a long moment and then shook his head. "I don't know. I mean…Who am I if I'm not the Daliph?"
She shook her head, not understanding. "You're Badru. A strong fighter. A good man. And a member of the tribes. Like me."
"But what does that mean?" He stepped back, breaking their touch. "I need some time to think about this."
He walked to the door of the barn, and paused.
He turned back, looking at Garzel. "I am glad to know you're my grandfather."
Garzel nodded.
Next, Badru turned to K'lrsa. "And I am glad I'm a member of the tribes."
He said the words, but there was no conviction behind them. K'lrsa sat back against the wall, frowning. Did he really think so little of her and her people?
"I'm going for a walk." He turned back towards the door.
"Don't let anyone see you," Herin called after him.
After he was gone, a heavy silence fell. Finally, K'lrsa turned to Herin. "Why didn't you tell him before this?"
She shrugged. "He didn't need to know. And if thinking he was Daliph by some divine right made him a better ruler, what harm was there in it?"
Lots. Badru had not only grown up thinking himself a rightful heir to the Daliphate, he'd also grown up thinking himself the grandchild of a rapist and murderer. That had to affect how he saw himself, especially
when he had no father around to counter it.
And now to find he wasn't descended from that monster…
She wanted to go after him. But would he want her there?
Herin leaned into Garzel, closing her eyes for a moment as he softly kissed her brow.
K'lrsa envied them their easy comfort.
Maybe someday she'd have that with Badru.
Someday, but not today.
Chapter 4
K'lrsa wanted to wait for Badru to return, but she was just too exhausted. The last few days had been a whirlwind of action and stress, and she succumbed to sleep almost as soon as her head touched the musty ground.
She found herself in the land of the moon dream, the desert sands stretching silver in every direction, undulating across the landscape. The moon hung full and ripe above her, so large it seemed to take up half the sky. The air was brisk with the bite of winter, but K'lrsa didn't feel chilled even in the diaphanous garments of the Moon Dance.
Everything was as clear as midday, including the Hidden City which loomed in the distance, its blocky spires dominating the far horizon. She knew from past experience that no matter how long she walked in its direction it would always stay just as far away from her as it was now.
She closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of home as the wind stroked her skin, the cloth strips of her outfit snapping behind her.
"My child. You return." The Lady Moon's voice was like a cool spring hidden in shade.
K'lrsa opened her eyes. The Lady was as regal and beautiful as ever, this time in the guise of the matron—an older woman, full of health and strength although wrinkles creased the corners of her eyes.
K'lrsa held the Lady's gaze, almost losing herself in the fathomless depths of the Lady's eyes. "Yes. At last."
The Lady gestured for her to follow as she walked along the edge of a large sand dune. K'lrsa marveled at how the Lady made it look so effortless to walk in sand that sunk under K'lrsa's feet, cascading down the slope to her right.
The silence between them stretched until K'lrsa felt like she'd burst if someone didn't speak. She hustled to catch up, her feet digging deeper into the sand, struggling for every step. "The tribes are in danger. Aran, the new Daliph of the Toreem Daliphate, is sending troops to kill any who oppose the Black Horse Tribe. We need your help."
The Lady turned. Her face shifted seamlessly between a young maiden's visage, full of life and vitality, that of the matron, and that of an old crone, her face so covered in wrinkles that only her eyes were distinct.
"You need my help? But first, a question. Did you complete the vow you made to my husband?" she asked, her voice tolling like a bell.
K'lrsa backed away from that fearsome gaze, almost tumbling down the side of the dune. "Yes. The man who killed my father is dead, just as I vowed."
As the lady studied her with those eyes full of the vastness of the night, K'lrsa rushed on. "It wasn't Badru. I know I thought it was the Daliph when I set out, but it wasn't him. It was K'var. He admitted it. He's the one who killed my father."
The lady nodded. "But is that all you vowed, K'lrsa dan V'na of the White Horse Tribe?"
K'lrsa licked her lips, suddenly cold. "I…No."
Her shoulders slumped. She didn't want to go back there. She couldn't. Not right now. Not with the tribes in danger.
"What else did you vow?" the Lady asked, all warmth gone from her voice.
K'lrsa studied her feet, noticing how dirty her toenails were. Sayel would hate that.
"Well?"
"To destroy the Toreem Daliphate."
"And did you?"
K'lrsa chewed on her lip. "Well, sort of. Badru did lose his throne and they all turned on one another and…"
"No. You did not." The Lady gazed towards the distant mountains where the city of Toreem nestled. "The Toreem Daliphate is stronger than when you arrived. Aran is in power once more and he turns his gaze towards the tribes. Now more than ever, he must be defeated."
"But he's sent troops to attack the tribes. I have to warn them. I can't go back." K'lrsa's throat clenched. "Please don't make me. My people need me. If I don't warn them…"
The Lady stared at her for a long moment.
K'lrsa clenched her fists, unable to breathe, willing the Lady to let her continue on to her people.
Finally, she nodded. "Yes, your people do need you. But not just to warn them. To save them."
"Save them?" K'lrsa stared at her. "But how?"
She smiled. "You'll find a way."
K'lrsa shook her head. She couldn't stand against a trained army. Not alone.
"Don't forget, child. You bring allies with you. Look to Badru. And Vedhe."
"Who's Vedhe?" K'lrsa frowned. That wasn't a name of the tribes.
"The scarred one you saved from the slavers."
She remembered the woman. Silent. Pale-skinned, pale-haired. A slave taken for sale in Crossroads. Day after day she'd walked behind the trading caravan, never complaining, never failing, even though K'lrsa thought she'd die.
Those were her allies? A fallen leader and a scarred foreigner?
How could they possibly defeat an army?
"Who else?"
The Lady smiled, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Herin. Garzel. Lodie."
Two old women and an old man. One who'd probably rather see her dead, one a former slave, and one without a tongue.
K'lrsa bit her lip to hide what she thought about her supposed allies.
The Lady Moon laughed softly, her voice like the tinkle of a desert spring on rocks. "You set off to challenge the entire Toreem Daliphate alone. And now you can't defeat just a few of their soldiers, even with allies by your side?"
"That was different. I didn’t know any better. And my so-called allies aren't exactly warriors."
"You don't need warriors. You just need the right weapons."
K'lrsa snorted. "The right weapons? Six people can't stand against an army, no matter what weapons they have."
"Not true. There are weapons a single person could wield that would destroy an entire army."
"Really? And where are these weapons?"
The lady shook her head. "Look to your allies and you'll find the answer in time."
"But we don't have time! Aran already sent the order. His troops will be there within days."
"Then you must lead your people to the sanctuary first."
"Sanctuary? Where? We don't have great walled cities stocked with months' worth of food like Toreem."
The lady's face settled into the visage of the old crone and for a moment K'lrsa was reminded of Herin. "Must I do everything for you? You have allies. Use them."
Even old and gravelly, her voice was still beautiful, this time heavy with the weight of ages like the carvings K'lrsa had seen on some of the caves she sheltered in when caught away from the tribe overnight.
"But…"
The lady disappeared, leaving K'lrsa alone with the wind howling and the Hidden City brooding in the distance.
She paced the top of the dune. She needed to think, to let her mind find the answers to her problems. She'd never been good at that--much more inclined to act first and think later—but too much depended on her now.
She seated herself on the ground, closed her eyes, and repeated the Pattern over and over again until she finally found the Core where she could float outside of time and sensation, letting her mind drift.
But still, even there, in that place where thought was supposed to cease, she couldn’t help but wonder.
What had the Lady meant?
Where was this sanctuary?
Or this weapon powerful enough to save her people?
And how was she going to find it in time?
Chapter 5
K'lrsa awoke in late afternoon to a fly crawling on her face. She shooed it away and sat up, wishing for the dry heat of the plains. She felt sticky all over and the smell of the barn hadn't improved with the heat of the day.
Badru was bac
k, but he sat alone, brooding. Herin and Garzel were seated next to each other, whispering back and forth. K'lrsa marveled that Herin could understand the grunts and hisses that were Garzel's only form of communication.
She debated telling everyone about the moon dream. On the one hand, if the Lady had wanted to talk to them, she could've. Then again, the Lady had told her to look to her allies. And what else were they going to do as they waited for the moon to rise?
So she told them what she'd dreamed as they all lolled in the late afternoon heat. Herin raised an eyebrow once or twice, but didn't interrupt. Badru continued to stare sullenly at the ground.
"So now we have to figure out where this sanctuary is before the Daliph's men arrive," she finished.
"Before Aran's men arrive," Badru corrected her, his jaw thrust out in a sulk.
She raised an eyebrow at that, but gave it to him anyway. "My apologies. Before Aran's men arrive."
Herin shrugged. "It's obvious, isn't it?"
"Um, no."
"The sanctuary she mentioned must be the gathering grounds."
"What? That doesn't make any sense. That's where they're going anyway. That's where the Daliph's—Aran's—troops are headed to ambush them. They can't go there. They'll be slaughtered. There's nothing there anyway except a bunch of dirt, the central platform, and that big rock formation. How are those going to protect them?"
Herin took a bite from a travel bar, her teeth grinding it to pulp as K'lrsa waited for an answer, wanting to throttle her for taking her time.
At last, Herin swallowed. "No one can be killed while they're at the gathering grounds."
K'lrsa laughed. "Like the Daliph's troops are going to respect our ways. Or the Black Horse Tribe, for that matter."
Herin chewed for another long moment and then moved her tongue along her teeth to clean them. K'lrsa was about ready to rip that tongue right out of her mouth, when she finally answered. "They'll have no choice. You can't kill someone on the gathering grounds. It's not possible."
K'lrsa frowned at her. "How does that work? How do you know that? I've never heard that before."
Herin shrugged. "Saw it myself."
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