Her laughter was bitter. “Rescue me! Do you call this a rescue? The horses will die first—probably before sundown. Both your waterskins are near empty, so we will probably die before sunrise.”
He fell silent, and she found his attitude disquieting. But she was still sure she had his attention. “Have you ever seen a man die of thirst? Nay, you have not,” she said before he could answer. “I have, so allow me to explain how it happens: First you become delirious, imagining ponds and puddles of water tormenting you everywhere you look. Your tongue will swell, and you won’t be able to swallow. Your body will soon begin to roast like meat cooked over a campfire.”
His silver gaze pinned her. “Since you are so knowledgeable about the desert, what would you suggest we do?”
Thalia glanced around until she found what she was looking for. She knelt and picked up several small pebbles. “Put these in your mouth and suck on them. Remember to keep your mouth closed. I don’t know why this helps, but it is my brother’s advice, so if I were you, I would take it as truth.”
Ashtyn took the pebbles in his hand and stared down at them as if they were some foreign object. Then he handed some to Darius and put the rest in his mouth. “Do what she says.” Turning back to Thalia, he asked, “Now what?”
“I know of an oasis nearby, though I can’t promise there will be water this time of year. Some years the watering hole is completely dry, but it is our only hope of survival.” She bit her lower lip, knowing the oasis was too small to be on the caravan route. She could not expect help for herself from that direction.
“How do I know I can trust you not to lead us further into the desert?”
“You cannot. But I want to live as much as you do. You will have to trust me, although I care naught if you do.”
She could not see his expression because his lower face was covered. She wished she could lead them to the Badari encampment, but it was many days away.
The Destroyer swept his hand forward. “It seems we are at your mercy. Lead the way.”
Thalia lowered her head. “We should all take a drink now, but no more than a sip. And give the horses water. We cannot allow ourselves to become too thirsty. The horses will need a bit more water than we do. It is also important to keep your body covered as much as you can. I have your outer robe, and I can give it back to you since I am more accustomed to the heat.”
She started to pull it over her head, but The Destroyer stopped her. “Keep it. You are wearing less clothing than either of us,” he said in a voice that would brook no argument.
In irritation, she dropped the robe back around her body as they mounted their horses.
Her captor might not know the desert, but she would not want to challenge him in other matters.
“I always like to put a name to a face, and the only name I have for you is Destroyer,” Thalia said when they started moving. “Surely you have another name.”
“I am Ashtyn.” He nodded toward his companion, who still hung back, watching for danger. “He is Captain Darius, my second-in-command. He does not speak much, but he will look after your welfare.”
For the first time, Thalia allowed herself to study the big man. He was completely bald, and his nose was hooked. He had dark eyes, and whenever he caught Thalia looking at him, he lowered them. “The only people I need protection from are you and him,” Thalia told Ashtyn pointedly.
His jaw tightened. “You say this because you do not know what awaits you on Bal Forea,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder.
“The night you came to my garden, you spoke my name, but you are mistaken about my identity. I am not the person you seek.”
“Have you known any other with your name?”
“Nay. But—”
“It is a name from the royal family of Bal Forea.” He lowered his gaze to her dimpled chin. “There is no mistaking who you are.” He gazed ahead of them. “How far is this oasis?”
Thalia calculated the distance they’d traveled from Alexandria. “I could be mistaken, but I believe it is no more than two or three hours ahead. Depending, of course, on how swiftly these untrained horses can move through the sand. I am usually mounted on one of my brother’s Badarian horses. They can cover much ground in a short amount of time.”
“Lord Ramtat,” he said, nodding. “I know of his Badarian horses—their fame has reached as far as Bal Forea. The whites that pulled your chariot were of that breed, were they not?”
“Destroyer, Ashtyn, whatever you are called, if you do not fear my brother, you are a fool. He has men who can track an ant across the highest sand dune. If you believe he will not find your trail, you are mistaken. There is nowhere you can hide that he will not follow.”
“I am sure you speak the truth. But put no hope in being rescued. The sea leaves no tracks.”
She raised her chin defiantly. “Right now we are in the desert, and you had best look over your shoulder.” Ashtyn appeared unconcerned, and she fell into silence, knowing Ramtat would come as soon as he heard what had happened to her. But would he be too late? Thalia’s shoulders drooped in hopelessness. The Destroyer might not know how to trek through the desert, but he was no fool.
Thalia glanced at the man. He wore brushed trousers tucked into high-top boots. His linen shirt was open at the neck, and she caught a glimpse of smooth skin. Muscles rippled across his broad shoulders, and she knew he was indeed a warrior. If she had not been afraid of him, she would have thought he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.
Tearing her gaze away from him, she stared straight ahead. It was nearing sundown and Thalia thought she sighted the top of a date palm just ahead. She slid off her horse and jerked the reins out of Ashtyn’s hand, practically dragging the animal toward the oasis. After Thalia allowed the horse to drink, she dropped to her knees, cupped her hands and took small sips. Then she fell back on the ground, taking a deep breath, and watched as the two men satisfied their thirst.
Ashtyn gazed up at the lacy palm fronds that fluttered in the scorching breeze. “I am glad you were truthful about the oasis. I was unsure where you were leading us,” he remarked as he knelt beside her, a look of concern on his face. “Are you ill?”
She sat up and braced her back against the rough bark of the date palm, noticing Ashtyn’s second-in-command sprawled beneath the shade, wiping sweat from his brow. Neither of these men were accustomed to desert heat. “I am not ill—just weary. And as for being honest with you, know this—in my eyes you are naught but my captor and deserve no such courtesy from me.”
He glanced at her as if weighing his reply. “That may be the way I look to you now, but when you know me better, I hope your opinion will change. Thank you for leading us to water.”
He watched her swing her head in his direction, her golden hair sliding across her shoulders. He saw the anger brightening her blue eyes. “Do not make the mistake of thinking I wanted to save your lives. To me you are a villain,” she nodded at his companion, “and so is he. I led you here because I did not want to die of thirst.”
Instead of being angered by her words, Ashtyn laughed. “If I had any doubts as to your true identity, you just swept them aside. Your words are like sharp nettle, reminding me of your grandfather.”
Thalia turned away from him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Go away.”
Ashtyn reached into his leather satchel and withdrew dried meat and cheese, handing some to her. Then he settled beside her. “You must be confused by all that has happened to you.”
“More angry than confused.”
“What did Turk tell you?”
“That man is crazed. His claims are outrageous.”
“Tell me about them.”
She tore off a chunk of dried meat with strong white teeth, and watched him as she chewed. “I would like to hear who you think I am.”
“I know who you are. Your mother, Princess Jiesa, was the throne princess. She was expected to wed a great prince of a neighboring country, but she defied her
father and fled the island.”
“Are you sure you and Turk aren’t cohorts?”
Ashtyn laughed. “Never doubt that Turk and I are enemies. But we both know you are King Melik’s only living descendant, and the only person who can legitimately succeed him on the throne of Bal Forea.”
“If what you say is true—which I doubt—my mother did not want to be queen, and neither do I.”
He gazed into her eyes. “Sometimes we have no choice in what is decided for us.”
“I spit on your king—both him and the cousin. I want to go home and live the life I had before you and Turk interfered. I have a family I love and miss. I do not want this cousin, or a grandfather I don’t know. You must let me go.”
“I cannot do that.”
“Neither you nor Turk have told me anything that would make me want to accompany you to this island. If the king you speak of is my grandfather, would he not arrange a marriage for me as he did for my mother?”
Ashtyn gazed into the distance. “I cannot speak for the king.”
“Apparently this half-cousin is an usurper who is trying to steal the throne. I say let him have it. Leave both those men to their war.”
Ashtyn took a deep breath. “What about the people who need leadership? Your grandfather is old and ill—he cannot hold on for much longer. As for Lord Sevilin, his one drive in life is power. He is consumed by the notion of ascending to the throne of Bal Forea. The rebels that follow him do not realize that Sevilin can never wear the crown. His slight hold on power will slip through his grasp as fleetingly as a great fire devouring a forest and leaving only ashes.”
He spoke with great passion, and almost made Thalia believe in his cause. Then she remembered Turk had told her this man had a reputation for seducing with words, and she shook herself mentally. “I am sorry for the king, and I am sure he will eventually crush this Lord Sevilin, or he may decide to allow him to succeed him on the throne. It could be that he will make a good king.”
“That will never happen!” Ashtyn sounded appalled. “You have no love for your own people if you believe that.”
“I do not know those people, and they are not mine. I may not be Egyptian by birth, but in my heart, I am a true daughter of this land. Your people mean nothing to me.”
Ashtyn tossed his dried meat angrily into the fire and sparks flew. “You may be able to stop the war merely by standing at your grandfather’s side. How can you not care?”
She heard the disappointment in his tone, but what did he expect? She wanted more than anything to be in her mother’s arms. “If I chose to stand at the side of my half-cousin, what would happen?”
“That, too, might end the war,” Ashtyn admitted. “Sevilin would most certainly use you for his own ambitions.”
“Turk said much the same to me about King Melik. And he certainly warned me to be wary of you.” She met his steady gaze with her own. “I am suspicious of anyone called ‘The Destroyer.’ ”
Ashtyn chose to ignore her reference to the name the rebels had attached to him because he was ruthless and unyielding in the service of his king. “I cannot convince you which one is right or wrong—this you will have to decide for yourself. But if you are as wise as I think you are, you will remember Lord Sevilin has no true claim to the throne.” He gripped her hand and made her look at him. “No claim at all except through you.”
“And that would be a bad thing?”
“Judge for yourself. Sevilin has gathered about him a force of thugs and malcontents who take the spoils of victory to increase their wealth at the expense of the common people. The Bal Foreans know the king is ill, and they fear what will happen to them if he dies without someone to succeed him. Many now clamber to Lord Sevilin’s side because he has threatened to punish those who resist him.”
This caught Thalia’s interest. “This Sevilin is in no way related to me, if I am who you say I am.”
“His only connection to you would be that his mother married your uncle. I doubt Turk told you Lord Sevilin plans to make you his wife, thus legitimizing his claim to the throne.”
Thalia’s mouth opened in horror. “No one can make me marry against my will. Not that man, and not your king.” She shook her head. “But why should I tell you this? You are no more than a hireling for the king.”
Ashtyn spoke softly and without anger. “In that you are not far from the truth. I am the king’s man.”
“Something perplexes me: Turk has been searching for me most of my life, yet he says this man, Sevilin, is no more than five years older than myself. How could such a young man have plotted to capture me in Rome?”
“The ambition to rule Bal Forea did not begin with Lord Sevilin. His mother, Lady Vistah, is ruthless and ambitious. When her husband died, her ambitions died with him, until she realized she could still get to the throne through you. She planted those ambitions in her son, and as he grew to manhood, they took seed.”
Thalia watched the sun drop low in the west and hung her head, weary of plots and stratagems. “The way I see it, I have a choice between bad or worse. Why should I want a life such as you offer me when I am happy with my own life?”
“The road you must travel was chosen for you at your birth. To be born royal is to make sacrifices for those who depend upon you. You will be called upon to take up the scepter of Bal Forea, and you must not deny what is best for your people.”
Thalia leaned forward, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “My people are Egyptian! How many times must I tell you I have no interest in the people you speak of?”
“You may deny it all you want, but the blood that runs in your veins is pure Bal Forean. ’Tis a pity you cannot know how your people need you.”
While this man frightened her, the sound of his voice sent shivers across her skin, and she loved to hear him speak. But she must be on guard against his power to persuade. “Tell me about the island.”
He gazed toward the sunset as if he were seeing Bal Forea in his mind. “One side of the island has thick woods and mountains, while the other side slopes to the sea. There is a rocky coastline that sweeps upward to a mountainous area with many waterfalls spilling down the steep sides.” He rubbed the back of his neck as if he was weary. “Sevilin never actually leads his band of cutthroats and rebels into battle, but instead stays holed up in a fortress in the mountains, making it difficult to drive him out. But we never stop trying.”
Thalia turned her back to him, not wanting to hear anything more of this island. There had to be a way to escape. Watching Captain Darius fill the water skins, Thalia’s gaze went to the horses that grazed on the sweet grass along the watering hole. If she could wait until both men fell asleep, she might be able to make it to the horses and ride away.
She would wait, bide her time, hoping to find the right moment—then she would strike!
The moon shone brightly across the oasis. Thalia watched the campfire die into smoldering embers. In the distance she could hear the sound of jackals. The wind was blowing out of the north, and she smelled the strong scent of sulphur that told her they were very near the Nile. The river always had this particular scent during the flood season when it brought life-giving bounty for the farmers.
Huddling beneath Ashtyn’s robe, she inhaled his clean spicy scent that still clung to the rough linen. He lay facing her, and she watched him, waiting for the moment his eyes closed in sleep.
Captain Darius, however, was another matter. He had gone twice to check on the horses, and he’d now settled down with his back against the date palm. She would have to wait a bit until he was asleep.
Moments passed, and Thalia’s gaze fastened on the dagger Ashtyn kept close to his body. She stiffened as she watched him take a deep breath, and she wondered what drove a man such as he. He’d removed the kaffiyeh, so Thalia stared at the thick black hair that fell about his handsome face. His brows were dark and his lashes were long for a man. His mouth was beautiful. She felt herself blush as she considered touching him.
Was she crazed? He was the enemy.
He definitely had a way of seducing with words, and she had almost believed everything he’d told her. Almost.
Night shadows crept across the oasis, and the moon climbed higher. Thalia watched Captain Darius’s head fall sideways, and then he jerked awake, sitting upright. Finally Thalia’s patience was rewarded—his head fell sideways and he did not move. Still she waited, too frightened to act.
If she didn’t make the attempt to escape soon, she might not get a better chance …
Chapter Twelve
Thalia silently inched her hand toward Ashtyn’s dagger, watching him closely for any sign that he was waking. As a child, the streets of Rome had tutored her in the skills she needed to survive. She was apt at picking locks, skilled as a pickpocket, and she’d learned to strike quickly and move without anyone detecting her. Of course, she had not used those skills in many years.
Quietly, Thalia reached forward and gripped the hilt of Ashtyn’s dagger, then eased it toward her. She waited a moment to make sure neither man had detected her actions. To her relief, both were still asleep.
Rising to her knees, she waited a moment before gaining her feet. Holding her breath, she cautiously took a step in the direction of the horses, then dashed silently across the camp.
When she reached the horses, Thalia cut the tethers with the dagger, and then tucked it into her sash. Carefully she eased herself onto a horse, still watching the two men. Thus far neither of them had moved, and she congratulated herself that she had not lost her ability to survive. Nudging the horse forward, she whirled it around and urged the animal into a gallop.
She rode in the direction of Alexandria without looking back.
Thalia was grateful for the bright moonlight that lit her way. When she reached the first sand dune, the horse slowed its pace, laboring to make it to the top. How she wished she was mounted on one of her brother’s Badarians, who could outdistance any horse in the desert. When the animal finally made it to the top of the dune, Thalia’s heart lightened with a feeling of triumph.
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