As the new Water Prince, he couldn’t have an unfair advantage over his citizens. Shyla didn’t regret taking his magic from him. Her worries focused on how he would handle the job without his power. Mojag promised to keep an eye on him from a distance. The boy hadn’t forgiven Jayden for betraying the Invisible Swords. And Aphra, Jayden’s new archeologist, also said she’d watch him for signs of trouble. The citizens of Zirdai deserved a qualified, compassionate, and incorruptible leader.
When it grew too cold, she ducked inside the hut to warm up and check the gamelus. They had curled up together with their long legs and snouts tucked in tight, looking like an oversized yellow bush. A few gave her sleepy half-lidded looks. Shyla wondered how anyone could tell them apart. But Faizah and Anwar knew them all by name. Come to think of it, so did Rendor.
Once warm, she returned to practicing with the sand until Rendor arrived to take his turn. Another reason she enjoyed guard duty was when he pulled her close and kissed her like he hadn’t seen her in circuits. Heat immediately speared her and she deepened the kiss, wrapping her arms around him.
Rendor’s sense of duty always kicked in and he broke off the kiss to scan the surrounding desert for trouble. She rested her head on his chest and just soaked him in, listening to the thrum of his heart.
“Go inside and get warmed up,” Rendor said.
She reluctantly let go. If she pushed to remain with him, he’d insist she get some sleep. If she stayed despite his protests, he’d physically escort her to the shelter. She could use her magic to stop him, but she’d never do that to him. In fact, she’d promised not to use magic on him without his permission. Unless it was an emergency. As for the power of The Eyes, she didn’t need to read his thoughts and emotions. Over the last two hundred and thirty-three sun jumps they’d been together, she’d learned to read his body language pretty well. Besides, she already knew his heart.
“Go,” he ordered.
He wasn’t in charge, but he could out-stubborn her. So she stole another kiss and went into the shelter.
The sun jumps blurred together, piling up. Shyla was both comforted by the routine and frustrated by it. Soon after they left the travel shelter at the start of their fifty-second sun jump of travel, Shyla sensed a strange thickness to the air. Beside her, Lota appeared unconcerned. Shyla glanced back at the other guards and caravan drivers, but no one acted anxious. The kids were having fun pretending to be racing the gamelus. Yet there was a hum of anticipation and excitement that danced on her skin.
It took her a couple of angles to spot the small shapes in the distance. Monks? Had they traveled close to another city? The monasteries were always built near a major city so the monks could spy on the people and report any problems to the King. They also wore special clothing that blended in with the color of the sand when they were out on patrol.
Rendor moved up from his position, joining her. “Do you see them?”
“Yes.”
“I count ten,” he said.
“I see a dozen.”
“There’s eighteen,” Lota said.
“Are they monks?” Shyla asked her.
“Not out here.”
“Sand pirates?” Rendor gripped the hilt of his sword.
“No. They don’t strike in sunlight, and they wouldn’t be lying half buried in the sand.”
Shyla squinted. The woman had a keen eye. “The King’s guards?”
Lota scoffed. “No. If the guards ever bothered to leave Qulsary, they wouldn’t hide.” She paused. “We are near a major crossroads so there are travel shelters in each direction.”
“Who are they?” Rendor asked.
“I’ve no idea, but they’re lying in wait for us.” She signaled the rest of the guards to get ready. “I hope you two are as good as you claim. This is going to get rough.”
Two
Lota yelled at her kids to get inside the wagon and stay there. Then she ordered her muscles to arm themselves. The caravan slowed but didn’t stop. They were on a tight schedule and stopping could result in death.
Shyla considered their odds. They had eight trained fighters and eight without experience against eighteen unknown opponents. With her magic and Rendor’s skills, she guessed that their caravan still had the advantage. She hoped. The thought of anything happening to Anwar and Faizah made her sick.
Without any discussion, Rendor took charge of the defenders. Lota’s official “captain” creased his brow as if he’d like to protest, but Rendor’s calm professionalism soon overrode his discontent.
“They’re going to wait until the caravan is well inside their attack zone before they initiate hostilities,” Rendor said. “This will allow them to surround us.”
“If their goal is to steal from us, they’ll be planning to take the wagons and leave us behind,” Lota said.
“And if they have another goal in mind?” Uma asked. She drove the third wagon.
Lota glanced at where her children were hiding. “Then I’ve no idea what will happen.”
Rendor straightened. “Whatever their objectives are, they will not be successful.”
His words energized them. They stood taller and gave him their undivided attention as he positioned the sixteen of them in a ring around the caravan, alternating a skilled person with an inexperienced one. Shyla and Rendor took point with Lota.
When Rendor politely suggested she stay with her husband and children, Lota said, “It’s my caravan.”
Shyla scanned the desert with her magic as they neared the ambush, counting the bumps hidden in the sand. Lota was right: there were eighteen.
The temperature increased as the sun jumped toward apex. Shyla hoped the fight, if there was one, wouldn’t delay them too much.
When they reached the first of the hidden figures, nothing happened, just like Rendor predicted. Since she was much closer to them, Shyla considered sending all the ambushers to sleep. Lota and the others would just believe that they weren’t the target and happily continue on. Except there was nothing stopping them from following the caravan and trying again. Best to find out why they were here and what they wanted. And to then scare them away from planning a second attack.
They kept walking, pretending they didn’t see the figures in the sand. Shyla noted their head scarves had been wrapped to cover everything except their eyes. It was a clever design. One she’d take a closer look at if she had time afterward.
“Get ready,” Rendor said in a low voice.
Two angles later, a battle cry sounded and the figures jumped to their feet and rushed toward the caravan.
Shyla and the rest of the guards braced for an attack as the enemy surrounded them. Except the eighteen armed people stopped about three meters from the ring of guards. They each held a short sword with a slightly curved blade in one hand and a thin dagger in the other—a slashing weapon and a stabbing one. Unease swirled in her heart.
One figure stepped forward. His eyes were the color of honey. Shyla met the leader’s gaze and read his immediate intentions. Not violence. At least not yet.
“Give us the sun-kissed and you can go,” he said to Lota with the confidence that the caravan leader would readily agree.