Prince Incognito

by Rachelle Mccalla

  Even if he’d had the strength to caution her about running into whatever was ahead without scoping it out first, Alec wasn’t about to dampen her hope. Hope was all the fuel they had left, and the billowing sand was still some distance away.

  He took her hand and they charged forward.

  Three mountainous ridges later, they pulled themselves up over a rocky lip and looked eastward toward the dusty cloud that continued to move beyond them. Between the cloud and their promontory, green branches waved skyward above a round pool, an oasis hidden between the ridges of sand.

  “Praise God,” Lily whispered.

  “Yes,” Alec agreed, though his eyes weren’t on the water, but the caravans that camped there. The pond itself was a good sized one, more than thirty meters across, with date palms rimming the sides. Three distinct groups of men encamped at various points on its perimeter, all of them wearing traditional desert robes. The smallest group of Bedouins had only three men and two camels between them. Alec could see no weapons on them.

  Another, larger group had close to a dozen camels stacked high with supplies. They appeared to have recently arrived, and were settling in against the heat of the day, the dark shadows of automatic rifles strapped across their backs. For protection? Or something less innocent?

  The cluster that caught his attention was made up of at least four men with many more horses and camels. Their tents appeared to have weathered several nights at the oasis encampment, with the largest tent erected like a pavilion, its sides open to the desert air, its shadows full of objects Alec couldn’t identify at such a distance.

  Who were these nomads resting by the waterside? Were they friend or foe?

  As he struggled to swallow, his mouth too dry and his tongue too swollen to permit anything more than breathing, Alec realized it didn’t matter who the robe-cloaked men beyond them were. He and Lillian were simply too dehydrated to do anything but head for the water.

  Whatever they encountered at the oasis, he’d have to quench his thirst before he could even defend them.

  EIGHT

  Lily wanted to hold Alec’s hand for the sense of security it would give her, but the move would have been impractical, skidding as they were down the shifting sand, needing every limb at their disposal just to keep from going heels over head down the steep side of the dune. Besides, as she’d reminded herself throughout the night whenever she’d felt inclined to reach for him, he was royalty. There was probably a rule against touching him.

  As they made their way gracelessly toward the oasis, the men camped there watched them curiously. No doubt they made quite a sight in their impractical clothes, without weapons or supplies.

  A stretch of open water beckoned to them, far from the nearest group of men and their pavilion. Lily stumbled toward the water and fell facedown at its bank, plunging her whole head into the pond and letting the liquid splash into her mouth.

  The water was cool and slightly sweet, apparently fed by an underground spring, and filtered by rocks and sand as it made its way to the surface. She swallowed greedily until the need for air forced her to lift her head. One gulping breath later, she plunged her head in again.

  A hand touched her shoulder, and she looked up to see water glistening from the stubble on Alec’s chin. “Don’t drink too fast, or you’ll make yourself sick. Let’s get into the shade.”

  They shuffled toward the nearest palm trees, which brought them closer to the men near the pavilion, but thankfully, farther away from the gun-toting group across the way. Alec propped his back against a date-palm trunk.

  Lily looked to do the same, but there wasn’t a good spot near him, except for the other trunk that grew alongside his. She’d be rubbing shoulders with him if she rested there. Was she allowed to rub shoulders with the prince?

  “What?” Alec squinted up at her. “Have a seat.” He patted the ground beside him.

  Self-consciously, Lillian eased her aching body toward the ground, leaning back and closing her eyes for a moment, letting the water revive her before attacking the task of removing her shoes and socks. With her feet finally freed, she padded barefoot the last few shaded feet to the water, rolled her khakis up past her ankles, and stepped in, dipping water by handfuls to drink.

  She could feel the eyes of the Bedouin men on her, but she was far too thirsty to care what they were thinking. Were any of them working for her uncle? If so, they weren’t making their move yet. Alec stepped into the water beside her, and she relaxed at his protective presence. They were grossly outnumbered and outgunned, but the prince of Lydia had proven himself to be a match for any foe. She pitied anyone who would be rash enough to assault him.

  After drinking her fill again, she walked back to the palm trees and settled into her spot, closing her eyes only after Alec joined her.

  How long she rested, only half-asleep, but blissfully motionless, she couldn’t guess. In fact, she’d nearly nodded off in earnest when her subconscious was pricked with the realization that they weren’t alone.

  Lily opened her eyes to see a large black gun dangling from a man’s hand in front of her.

  He spoke. Lily couldn’t make out anything of what he said—it certainly wasn’t in English. But Alec responded with like-sounding words, and the man gestured with his gun toward the pavilion.

  It didn’t seem to be a threatening gesture. The Bedouin rubbed his thumb against his fingers. Money?

  Alec nodded and stood, pointed to Lily, said something more to the man.

  The stranger nodded agreeably, waving with the gun in a welcoming manner, though Lillian wasn’t at all used to being welcomed by a waving gun. When Alec extended a hand toward her, she let him pull her up, and they walked barefoot along the shaded ground toward the tent pavilion.

  She smiled at what she saw inside. Besides traditional date cakes and pistachios, there were bottled sodas, packaged snacks, folded clothing, blankets, canteens, binoculars and pocket knives. “It’s a store?” she whispered to Alec.

  The Bedouin stepped back, watching them from the doorway but otherwise letting them browse freely.

  “He’s a vendor, catering to the riders and spectators of the Rising Sun Horse Race,” Alec explained. “The course passes by here. The clouds you saw to the east are riders trying to cover as much distance as possible before the heat of the day makes travel impossible. That small band of men on the far side of the oasis are relatives of one of the racers, stopping here while they watch his progress.”

  “And the larger band, the men with guns?”

  Alec shrugged. “A caravan of nomads, just stopping to rest, I hope.”

  “Why so many weapons?”

  “The desert is a dangerous place.”

  “They look like dangerous men.” Even as she spoke the words, Lily reminded herself that Alec was an equally dangerous man, guns or no guns. He picked up a few candy bars and a large bottle of fruity soda, its label unfamiliar to her, though the promise of sugary refreshment was familiar enough.

  Hunger clawed at her stomach, but Lily was reluctant to reach for the tempting snacks. She didn’t have any money. In fact, she was deep in debt after her parents had surprised her with the news that they weren’t paying for her veterinary schooling after all. Alec had already carried her over dozens of dunes—she owed him a debt of gratitude already. She hated to depend on his charity, especially when she had no way of paying him back, even if they made it out of the desert.

  Alec leaned over her shoulder. “Can’t make up your mind?”

  She sighed as she turned to face him. “I have no money.”

  He scowled. “We’re in this together. I’ve got it covered.”

  “No.” She shook her head, resenting the words and the bitter truth that forced her to speak them. “I have no money—none anywhere. Even if I get
back to the U.S., I don’t have anything but debt. I have no way of paying you back.”

  Alec’s scowl morphed from offended to confused. “Your parents’ yacht—”

  “Is the last thing they own that they haven’t sold.” She finished his sentence. “They’ve sold all their properties, they stopped paying my school bills, even though they told me before I started school that they’d cover all the expenses.” Lily bit her lip. This wasn’t the time or the place to spill her troubles, but she felt her resentment rising up inside her. She’d have taken a job, maybe even interrupted her studies had she known… But she hadn’t known.

  Alec must have sensed her feelings. “Pick out something to eat. Then we’re going to sit down and you’re going to tell me about it.”

  “You don’t need to trouble yourself with my problems.”

  “Who says they’re your problems?” Alec’s voice dropped to a whisper, and he bent his head close so they couldn’t be overheard. “Your father is David Bardici’s brother. What are your folks doing with the money they’ve made from the sales?”

  “I don’t know. It’s disappeared.”

  “The general doesn’t make enough to fund a war. He’s getting support from somewhere.” Alec’s jaw clenched. “Your problems are my problems. They’re all of Lydia’s problems. I need to know everything, because right now, I know nothing.”

  His words cut through her hunger-dulled consciousness. Had her parents funded the attack on Alec’s family? The thought was enough to wipe out her appetite, but Lily obediently reached for a candy bar. They had a long way to go, and she’d need her strength if she was going to tell Alec anything. She dreaded sharing anything about the past she’d tried so hard to forget.

  * * *

  Alec pulled a few bills from the money clip without removing the cash from his pocket. It wouldn’t do to let anyone see how much money he was carrying. As a soldier, he’d been warned about desert bandits. Without the protection of a gun and armed comrades, he and Lily were particularly vulnerable.

  The man who’d first approached them counted out change, while another sat in the shade with a crank-style radio near his ear, the broadcast in Arabic. Alec was only marginally fluent in the written language, but he could speak Arabic fluently, and knew more than enough to clearly understand the news report that crackled over the airwaves. They were talking about the situation in Lydia.

  The Bedouin handed him change, Alec nodded his thanks, and then stepped closer to the radio to hear.

  The news report told the story of what had happened two days before in Sardis. The royal motorcade had been ambushed. The members of the royal family were unaccounted for, but in the latest twist in the story, Princess Isabelle was meeting with Parliament.

  Alec wanted to give a loud whoop for joy at the news that his sister was alive and apparently well enough to meet with Parliament, but he didn’t want to show his reaction. There was no telling who the men were whose camps encircled the oasis or where their allegiances lay. He couldn’t risk showing any emotion in front of them.

  As the broadcast moved on to the next story, Alec thanked the merchant again and headed back to the shade of the date palms with Lily at his side. Before they settled down, she asked him, “What did you hear on the radio that made you so happy?”

  Immediately alarmed that he may have given away more than he’d intended, he asked, “How did you know the news on the radio made me happy?”

  “Your eyes lit up. You got a spring in your step.”

  Alec hoped the merchants would attribute his response to his happiness about their purchases, and not any personal stake in the Lydian government. There was nothing he could do to go back in time and erase his reaction. But he was eager to share the report with Lily.

  “The radio broadcast was an update on the situation in Lydia. My sister Isabelle is meeting with Parliament.”

  “That means she must have escaped the attack. Oh, thank God. Did they mention the rest of your family?”

  “Only that they were unaccounted for.”

  “That has to be good news, right?”

  “I hope so.” He unwrapped a candy bar, then paused, overwhelmed by gratitude. Less than half an hour before, he’d thought they were doomed to die in the desert and had every reason to believe his entire family had been killed, as well.

  Lily must have felt the same impulse he did. “We should give thanks.”

  He agreed and reached for her hand, though she seemed to hesitate before placing her small palm in his. Then he closed his eyes and thanked God, not just for providing them with food and water and shade, but also for watching over his sister. He asked God to keep the rest of his family safe, but when he thanked God for sending Lily to help him, he felt her pull back. After a quick “amen,” he popped his eyes open and caught her guilty expression.

  “What?” He tore into his candy bar, and popped the top on the soda.

  “Don’t thank God for bringing me into your life. My family has got to be your worst nightmare.” She looked down at the candy bar in her hands, which she hadn’t bothered to unwrap.

  “Eat it before it melts.”

  But Lily looked sick to her stomach. “I couldn’t imagine what my dad was doing with all his money, but your theory makes perfect sense. Why didn’t I figure it out sooner? Why didn’t I pay more attention when my dad and Uncle David talked about Lydian politics?”

  “I doubt they would have been careless enough to discuss the attack on the motorcade around you.” He reached over and opened her candy bar for her. “Besides, from what I understand, your father didn’t realize the attack would take place when it did. He’d been told to leave town before the state dinner. If he would have realized the danger of letting you watch the motorcade pass by, he would have set sail sooner.”

  As he spoke, Alec glanced across the oasis at the other camps. The men with the guns were sitting up straighter. Alec kept his head down, but watched them out of the corner of his eye. They had a radio. Most likely they’d heard the same broadcast, and had seen the spring in his step when his sister was mentioned. Did they know David Bardici? Had Lily’s uncle—clearly a powerful man in the region—already put out word for folks to be looking for them? Was there even now a bounty on their heads?

  One of the men pulled out a cell phone, but he didn’t put it to his ear. Instead, he held it up facing them, before a satisfied look crossed his face and he retreated into one of their tents.

  Glancing back at Lily, Alec saw her resolutely chewing a bite of candy bar, though she looked as though she might have been crying, had she not been too dehydrated to shed tears.

  “Eat quickly,” he warned her. “As soon as you finish, we’re going to pick out horses from the merchants.”

  “Horses?”

  “The Bedouin told me his horses are for sale.” Alec quickly calculated how long they might have before Bardici’s men reached them, assuming the man in the tent texted a picture of them from his phone. He’d noticed a cell-phone tower extending above the walls of Bardici’s fortress, no doubt supplying coverage to the area.

  If Bardici’s men came by helicopter, they could arrive in a little over an hour. There was no time to waste. “We have to get out of here. One of those men just used his cell phone to take our picture. If he suspects who we are.” Alec shook his head, already regretting that he hadn’t been more cautious. “We don’t have much time. Let’s move.”

  * * *

  Lily shoved the last bite of candy bar into her mouth and reached for her shoes. She hadn’t been looking forward to explaining anything more to Alec about her family, but she’d have gladly traded that conversation for the journey ahead of them. Neither of them had yet had an opportunity to sleep.

  “Where are we going to go?” she asked as she tied on her sneakers. “If we
head back the way we came, they’ll only find us sooner. In fact, no matter where we go, we’ll be easy to find in the open desert.”

  “We’ll follow the race course,” Alec interjected. “If we’re on horses, no one will suspect we’re not one of the racers unless they get close enough to see our faces.”

  Her shoes on, Lily hurried toward where the horses grazed on the sparse grass near the oasis. As she’d feared when she’d first spotted them from a distance, most of the horses looked exhausted. “Were these animals traded in by the racers?”

  Alec had apparently already discussed the horses with the merchant. “The race only follows the riders. They’re allowed to switch animals over the course of the race. These traders have made a bundle, and picked up some nice stock in the process.”

  While Lily agreed that the horses appeared to be well-bred, most of them with significantly more Arabian blood in their veins than the “Arabian” horses she’d encountered in America, they had obviously been ridden hard in the last few days, and hadn’t been at the oasis nearly long enough to recover from the ordeal. They looked beat.

  “I’ll look for some decent animals,” she told Alec. “You sort out what we can afford to buy.”

  “I’ll pick up the supplies we’ll need, too.”

  Lily nodded, but her attention was already on the horses, most of which were too tired to even look up as she approached. Not a good sign. They wouldn’t make it much farther in this heat—and she was quite certain Alec wasn’t about to let them rest for the remainder of the midday sun. If they were going to stay ahead of her uncle’s men, they’d have to strike out at the least opportune time.

  By the time Alec and the Bedouin joined her, she’d picked out her most likely candidates. “This fellow looks like he can hold you.” She stroked the neck of a massive red roan gelding who appeared, from his coloring and awesome size, to have Belgian draft horse blood somewhere not too far back in his ancestry. “He doesn’t appear to be as tired as the rest, either.”