by Wacht, Peter
“I don’t understand why she has to come,” said Kaylie, finally revealing the source of her increasing exasperation.
“Thomas explained it to me last night,” Oso replied with some trepidation but in a level tone. “Asmera’s of an age to be married. As Chuma’s daughter, there’s a great deal of interest among the Desert Clan nobility. In fact, several young men from other tribes have asked for her hand. But she hasn’t accepted. Thomas doesn’t think she’s ready, or perhaps she’s waiting for someone in particular to ask her, but he hasn’t spoken to her about it yet. Anyway, according to desert custom Asmera can choose to wander for a time instead of getting married. It’s common for the men, not so much for the women. But she’s Chuma’s daughter, and she’s known for being strong-willed, perhaps to a fault, so no one in the Ashanti Clan is surprised.”
“Who’s she waiting for?” asked Kaylie, trying to sound casual.
“What do you mean?”
“You said someone was waiting to ask her for her hand in marriage?” Kaylie had crossed her arms, her gaze challenging.
Oso hesitated before answering, not sure why Kaylie had become so intense so quickly as she bit off her words.
“I didn’t say that. I said that was a possibility. I don’t know if she’s waiting for someone to ask her. Thomas just said that might be why she wants to go with us.”
Oso breathed a sigh of relief as Kaylie seemed to be satisfied with his hurried response. But she quickly moved to another topic.
“What do you mean by wander?”
“Thomas explained that in the desert once you reach the age for betrothal, if you’re not ready to get married or don’t have a suitable match, you can wander, or rather go on a journey to learn more about yourself. It’s a custom that’s geared to enhancing accountability and maturity. The only rule is that it can last for no more than one year, and then you must return and meet your responsibilities. He said that many of the young men, and a few of the young women, often move among the different Desert Clans during their time away. Some of the braver ones will leave the desert altogether and explore other Kingdoms, but that’s rare apparently.”
“But why did Thomas give in to her so easily? I can understand why Asmera would choose to avoid marriage, but Thomas made my efforts to join this group exceedingly difficult in comparison.”
“I don’t know,” said Oso. “I’m sure he has a good reason. Besides, they’ve known each other a long time. Apparently, they spent a good bit of time together growing up.”
Oso stopped talking, recognizing that he may have said too much. He realized quickly that he had made a major mistake. Kaylie looked crestfallen. He concluded that whatever was going on between Kaylie and Thomas, he’d best stay out of it.
Kaylie’s fears with respect to Asmera immediately went to the worst possible scenario, which made it all the more difficult for her to release the anger and doubt that simmered within her and threatened to boil over. What she saw next didn’t help matters. Thomas approached, having just exited Chuma’s tent with Asmera a step behind her.
“Ready to go?” asked Thomas pleasantly, his saddlebags draped over his shoulder.
“I’ve been ready,” Kaylie responded sharply. “If we’re going, let’s go.”
Kaylie stalked off to her horse with barely a glance in Thomas’ direction. Thomas stood in place, eyebrows raised, feeling as if he had just slammed into a wall and not understanding what had just happened.
“What was that about?”
Asmera stepped up next to Thomas, sizing up the situation with a twinkle in her eye. “I’ll explain it to you later.”
Thomas watched Chuma’s daughter follow after Kaylie toward the horses. He glanced toward Oso, who stood there sheepishly shrugging his shoulders.
Thomas followed the two young women to the horses, wondering what dangers the next part of their journey might hold. Yet this time, the dangers he worried about had shifted to his travel companions rather than the dark creatures that he feared would continue to plague them.
CHAPTER SIXTY THREE
Wrapped Around
The small party traveled for several days, first between the sand dunes and then winding their way along the eastern edge of the mountains that bordered the Clanwar Desert. Asmera served as guide, stopping at every oasis and watering hole along the way, while Thomas focused his attention on the surrounding landscape. There were no signs of dark creatures anywhere near them. But the darkness, the faint stench of corruption, that he and Kaylie couldn’t identify, continued to flit in and out of his awareness, enervatingly so.
Kaylie was quiet for much of their journey, keeping to herself. She was frustrated with herself for how she felt, especially when Thomas rode near Asmera, the desert princess’ smoky laughter making her teeth hurt. Asmera was beautiful and obviously someone Thomas knew quite well. Yet even though Thomas made several attempts to talk with Kaylie, she remained distant, trying to keep her feelings from getting the better of her. She thought that she and Thomas had a connection, but neither had ever expressed anything beyond friendship. Moreover, she realized that there were many aspects of his life that she knew nothing about. Obviously, Asmera was important to him.
Although Kaylie knew it was childish, she avoided Asmera as much as she could. Following almost a week of clipped and often tense interaction, Asmera tried to coax the Princess of Fal Carrach into a conversation. That night after dinner, as Thomas checked the sentries and wandered the perimeter of their camp with Beluil in tow, trying to get a feel for the land, Asmera sat down next to Kaylie, much to her annoyance.
“It must be difficult,” said Asmera, direct as was her nature. “To love someone who must fight the Shadow Lord.”
For a moment Kaylie’s breath caught in her throat. “I don’t love Thomas. I …”
Asmera’s look cut through Kaylie’s attempt to deflect. Apparently she wasn’t very good at hiding her feelings.
“It’s that obvious?” she asked, deflated.
“To me and a few others, perhaps, but not to most. And clearly not to Thomas.”
“I’m sorry, Asmera. I’ve been acting poorly.” Kaylie shook her head in embarrassment. “It’s just that when I see you and Thomas talking, you two look so happy together. And I feel like a knife has been driven through my heart. But I have no claim to Thomas.”
“So you love him?” asked Asmera, a worldly look on her face, though it was more a statement than a question.
“Love him?” Kaylie was unable to keep the shock from her voice, though her saying it out loud made it ring true in her mind.
“Yes, you love him,” said Asmera, her tone firm, now certain of her assumption. “I love him, too.”
Kaylie’s stomach lurched, the bile rising in her throat. She’d been right.
“And I hope Thomas loves me, too,” continued Asmera, unconcerned by the impact her words had on Kaylie. “When we were younger, we performed the rituals of the marriage contract. We were foolish children, not knowing what we were doing. But you must understand, Thomas didn’t have any friends our age, nor did I, being the chief’s daughter. Perhaps it was the same for you as Princess of Fal Carrach, but when I was growing up the children my own age viewed me as a prize to be won, a way for them to gain what they wanted.”
Kaylie nodded her head in understanding, thinking back to Maddan Dinnegan and some of her other so-called friends. Friends in name, perhaps, but no more than that based on their actions. She could certainly sympathize with Asmera, realizing that they had faced similar challenges during their childhoods.
“It is the way life is in the Desert Clans,” continued Asmera. “Thomas saved my life once from sand vipers. He is a special person, and I do love him. I would do anything for him, but he is not for me.”
A well of relief surged through Kaylie as she took in Asmera’s words, surprised and thankful for the desert princess’ honesty. Her insecurity had been unnecessary, and she had allowed herself to be dragged down by it.
/> “He’s not?”
“No, he’s not,” confirmed Asmera. She leaned into Kaylie, as if she were confiding a key point. “If you need advice on how to get closer to him, I have a few ideas that might help. Thomas is slow to trust and afraid of what is to come.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kaylie replied. “Thank you for your honesty, Asmera. I do appreciate it.” For the first time in a week Kaylie felt as if a weight had been lifted from her chest.
“We are direct here in the desert, Kaylie. We don’t have the time to be otherwise. So you needn’t worry. Thomas and I are only friends. Maybe even like the brother I never had. Yes, I will admit that at times I have thought of him as something more. As the daughter of Chuma, I am supposed to marry into another Desert Clan. It helps to maintain peace among the different tribes. But I wanted to see what the other options might be. So I visited a seer to find out if Thomas would be in my future. I must admit, I found it a very appealing idea. But the seer said it was not to be. That he would marry another and unite the Kingdoms. In fact, I have already met another I would like to marry, but he has yet to make his interest known. Hopefully at the next meeting of the Desert Clans I can choose him.”
“You can choose your husband?” asked Kaylie, somewhat surprised.
“Yes, of course. You can’t?”
“I don’t know,” answered Kaylie thoughtfully. “Traditionally the man has asked for the woman’s hand in marriage. But as a princess, I have responsibilities to Fal Carrach. My father may want me to marry for the good of the Kingdom, rather than for my own good.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of that,” said Asmera. “A poor way to do things. Anyway, I hope you believe me when I say that I would like to be your friend, and that I will not be competing with you for Thomas. I have spoken to him, and he seems to like you very much.”
“He said that?” asked Kaylie, a small smile breaking out on her face for the first time since they left the Ashanti camp.
“Well, his exact words were, ‘Like her? Of course I like her. But half the time she says or does something just to irritate me.’”
Kaylie blushed, remembering several examples that Thomas could likely call to mind as part of his argument. “I guess I have done that.”
“That is love in a man who does not know it yet,” said Asmera confidently.
“Are you two taking a turn at sentry tonight?” As was his habit, Thomas had walked up silently to where they sat at the edge of the oasis under a cloudless night, the bright moon and stars lighting up the evening.
“Yes, we will,” replied Kaylie. “Do you always have to sneak up on people?” she added a bit sharply, fearing that he had heard their conversation.
Surprised by Kaylie’s tone, Thomas raised his eyebrows and chose to move on and find Oso, not sure if it was good or bad that Asmera and Kaylie finally seemed to be warming to each other.
Asmera laughed softly, “You two need to stop hiding your feelings. You are making all of us suffer as you dance around each other.”
CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR
The Pits
The Marchers continued to follow Asmera for several more days along the base of the mountains, moving from one hour to the next from sand that sucked at the hooves of their horses with dunes towering a hundred feet or more above them to terrain that resembled the lower Highlands, if a bit drier and hotter, the land rocky and rough, brown rather than green, and often requiring the riders to walk rather than risk injury to their mounts, then back again to the imposing dunes.
All had been quiet as they journeyed to the north, which bothered both Asmera and Thomas. Thomas used the Talent regularly to extend his senses for leagues around, often asking Kaylie to do the same to ensure that he didn’t miss anything, yet no signs of danger or dark creatures appeared.
That, in itself, didn’t worry them. They viewed that as a blessing. Rather, it was the lack of travelers in this part of the desert that suggested that something was amiss. Having come to the end of the rocky terrain after walking through a gulch that opened up to a broad expanse of smooth white sand that Asmera explained ran all the way to the coast and the Winter Sea, the last few mountains in the range rising to their left and stretching farther to the north, the Marchers halted to rest.
“This is strange,” said Asmera, scanning the smooth sand, hand blocking the glare of the sun from her eyes.
“How so?” asked Kaylie.
“The way we came is a trade route. Merchant trains are always coming from the other direction.”
“Kaylie and I have searched regularly, sometimes well into Kenmare to the west and toward the Breaker to the east,” said Thomas. “There was no activity at all. Nothing.”
“Strange, very strange,” Asmera murmured. She continued to examine what lay before them for several long minutes, as if she were trying to perceive something that only she could see. “This is Berber territory. We should have at least run into one of their patrols before reaching the Pits.”
“Pits? I don’t understand.” Kaylie looked out across the broad expanse of desert, the soft sand giving off a shimmering sheen under the harsh brightness of the sun. It was perfectly flat. No sand dunes, no obstructions. It appeared to be no more than white sand going on to the horizon.
“Looks can be deceiving,” said Asmera, coming to stand beside her. “It looks flat, but littered throughout are the Pits. The shifting sand covers them, holes that could swallow a horseman whole. Some are even larger. It’s like falling into dry quicksand. Once you tumble in, you don’t make it out. You’ll be covered by tons of suffocating sand in seconds. Because of this, the Pits are known as the graveyard of the desert. Anything could be buried out there.”
Kaylie shivered at the thought. “Then how do we make it through?”
Asmera smiled at Kaylie. “That’s why I’m here. To lead you through the Pits.”
CHAPTER SIXTY FIVE
Sand and Glass
“There, up ahead,” pointed Kaylie, catching the flash of the bright sun on what she assumed to be a piece of metal. As she and the Marchers approached it became more than that.
Having traveled through the Pits for almost two days, Kaylie had become used to the harsh environment’s deceptiveness. Though the landscape appeared flat and unchanging, it was anything but. Undulations and troughs in the land gave the terrain an unevenness that could not be discerned from afar. It made travel all the more difficult, as some of the dunes rose higher than a man riding a horse, or the sand fell away into shallow trenches that could pull the unwary several feet below the surface in seconds.
Kaylie had to admit that having a guide who not only knew the path through this treacherous land, but also how to avoid its dangers, was essential. Otherwise, she doubted that any of them would make it out of the Pits alive. Asmera had led the Marchers unerringly north, not put off by the difficulty of navigating what to the naked eye appeared to be a flat, sandy plateau that merged into the horizon. For the most part, she was able to avoid the Pits. Only once did a Marcher stray from the path that he was told to follow. Before anyone could take a breath, he and his horse were up to their necks in loose sand that sought to pull them deeper.
Quick thinking had saved him, as Asmera showed the Marchers how to rope both the Marcher and his horse and pull them out without risk of them sinking to a level when extricating both man and animal became impossible. The experience led to some good-natured ribbing of the Marcher by his compatriots and a newfound respect for the dangers surrounding them.
Worried about their isolation, Thomas and Kaylie used the Talent to search around them every hour, seeking any signs of movement beyond that of a sand snake. Halfway through the Pits, Kaylie had found something unexpected.
A Berber warrior, wounded and unconscious, lay half in a Pit, having succeeded in keeping his upper body out of the grasping sand but exhausting himself in the process.
“I know him,” said Asmera, an unexpected catch in her throat, as she leapt from her horse to help hi
m. “Denega, son of the Berber chief.”
“Would he be out here on his own?” asked Thomas, glancing around warily as Oso and Aric helped Asmera gently pull the wounded desert fighter from the Pit and begin to minister to his wounds. The Marchers recognized immediately what had caused his injuries as they began to clean and bind the slash across his shoulder and his chest.
“No, no sane man would come here by himself.”
“That’s what I thought. Marchers, battle formation!” The Marchers instantly moved to obey the command.
Thomas had guessed at what Asmera was finally realizing, distracted as she was by the wounded desert fighter. If Denega was here, where were his comrades? He would not have been left on his own unless something terrible had happened, and in the Pits it was a distinct possibility as there would be little to no evidence of what may have occurred.
Grasping the Talent, Kaylie extended her senses, wanting to know for herself. Her fears were confirmed just a few hundred yards to their west.
“Thomas! Ogren and a shade. Coming fast from the west.”
“How many?”
“Several hundred. They just emerged from where they were hiding.”
“There are crevices in the earth there closer to the mountains that run for leagues beneath the desert,” explained Asmera. “Some that go several hundred feet deep.”
“They were waiting for us,” muttered Thomas. “Oso, Aric, get that man on a horse. There are too many for us to fight. Asmera, continue leading us north.”
“But Thomas, if we do that the Ogren will take us,” the desert princess replied. “The way through the Pits is winding and will force us to double back in some places.”
“Don’t worry about that, Asmera,” said Thomas. “Take us straight north, Pits or no. I’ll make sure the way is safe and clear.”
“As you wish, Thomas.”
Asmera was worried, but she trusted Thomas and would do as he requested. She immediately urged her horse to the head of the Marcher defensive formation, relieved to see Denega protected in the middle of the column.
