I hope she knows what she’s doing.
Kamin set himself to the task of blocking out the pain from his wounds, his hunger pangs – worse now that food had been so close – and the ache in his shoulders from the tight restraints. Whatever she’s planning, it’s time to get ready. Although, given her clumsy attempt to steal the knife last night, there isn’t much hope there. We may not get another chance before reaching the main camp.
Hours passed. Using another jagged shard from tonight’s ruined dinner, Kamin made progress on the rope at his neck, moving slowly and deliberately. The guards didn’t pay any attention to him.
Although he would have liked the soldiers to be distracted from his own escape attempt, Kamin was glad Nima wasn’t forced to provide another after-dinner dance tonight. Much as he’d enjoyed the performance, it wasn’t worth the risk of tempting a camp full of frustrated soldiers to mutiny. Maybe the officer had reached the same conclusion after last night’s dance.
As time passed with no visible repercussions to those who had eaten the dinner, Kamin grew impatient, a little angry at having his hopes raised, apparently for nothing. But this rope is getting looser. I’ll be able to make my own break for it well before dawn at this rate. And then he’d have to decide what to do about rescuing her.
The moon was high in the sky, big and luminous, when the first man—a guard standing by the line of horses—dropped his spear and tumbled to the ground like a tree falling. Kamin tried to assess the man’s condition from a distance. Dead, I hope. Another soldier hastened toward his fallen comrade, but his steps grew wavering and uncertain, and he, too, collapsed. All around the camp’s perimeter, men now lay sprawled on the ground.
Kamin contemplated the flaps of the captain’s tent, willing Nima to appear. He had no idea how long they might have. Hurry, girl. Impatience thrummed through his veins, and he pulled at the ropes binding him.
A small patrol had left the oasis, going into the desert for some reason and, try as he might, he couldn’t remember if they’d eaten her treacherous stew before setting out. If not, those men would rejoin the column by daybreak. Sawing faster at his bonds, Kamin felt the skein unraveling. Legs next, then retrieve a knife from one of the fallen soldiers to slash the rope on my wrists, and the odds will definitely be in my favor. He focused on the tent flap again. Your scheming will be for naught, little dancer, if you don’t get out here. Now.
A flicker of movement caught his eye. Holding his breath, Kamin stilled, poised for action. A moment later, Nima ran out, a knife in her hand. Sprinting straight to him, she slashed the partially cut rope at his neck, then the one binding his wrists. “Hurry,” she said, reversing the knife with a skillful flick of her wrist and handing it to him. “Meet me at the horses.”
He sawed at the ropes on his legs, which had been intricately knotted at his knees and ankles. I don’t need her to tell me we’ve got to move fast.
Alarm spiked through his body as a yell sounded from across the camp. A Hyksos soldier stood there, gazing at the scene in disbelief. Redoubling his attack on the ropes, Kamin wondered where the man had come from, why he was conscious. The enemy soldier drew his sword and ran toward Kamin, shouting curses.
Abandoning the ropes, still hobbled at the knees and ankles, Kamin prepared to defend himself as best he could with just the knife. The man swung the sword around his head, blade whistling through the air, preparing to decapitate Kamin. Suddenly, the Hyksos grunted and stumbled, momentum driving him forward to collapse heavily on top of Kamin, despite the latter’s effort to roll out of the way.
Shoving the body aside, Kamin brushed a knife buried hilt-deep in the soldier’s back, right through the heart. Amazed, he raised his eyes to find the girl standing by the fire, white-faced with shock. She threw the blade, saved my life? Savagely slashing the last loop of rope at his ankles, Kamin surged to his feet, grabbing the loose sword as he stood. Why isn’t she moving? Is she hurt?
She watched him stride across the campground but made no movement, other than to sway a bit. Reaching her, he realized she trembled from head to toe, probably frozen in horror at the results of her own actions.
“No regrets, you had to do it. He would have killed me,” he whispered, patting her shoulder. “You made a lucky throw.”
She nodded, taking a ragged breath. “Not—not luck. My step brothers taught me to throw but I’ve never actually—” Words choking in her throat, she swallowed hard.
“We’ve got to move,” he said, taking her by the elbow and breaking into a run, forcing her to keep up. “Are the others dead?”
“No, the goddess didn’t provide death-dealing plants. The old garden here had herbs I could use to make men sleep but not die, especially not diluted in stew.” Breaking free of his grasp, she ran to grab a knife from an unconscious soldier, slipping it into the cord serving her as a belt.
Good idea. She has excellent instincts. Kamin stripped a shield from the same soldier, then they sprinted together to the horse line.
She’d already gotten one horse hitched to a chariot before coming to check on him. Kamin set the sword and shield in the vehicle and grabbed the halter of another horse. “Where did you learn to harness teams?”
Nima was following the horse line now, loosening the straps holding the animals to the tether and flapping her arms to make them shy and bolt. She frowned over her shoulder at him. “My family travels by oxcart. I figured ox, horse, four legs, not much difference.” Impatiently, she shoved at a horse nibbling her sleeve. “These damn animals won’t move.”
“Leave them, there’s no time. It’s a solid plan, but we can’t help it if the horses refuse to bolt.” He checked the straps she had fastened and found everything in order and tight. Glancing into the chariot, he was relieved to find a war bow strapped to the side and a full quiver of arrows, then turned to see what the girl was doing. Nima was running at him, a soldier’s cloak in her arms. Holding the reins, he stepped into the chariot and offered her his hand.
Glancing at his nearly naked body, she thrust the cloak at him. “You’ll get cold. I grabbed one for myself as well.”
Taking a second to impatiently fling the cloak over his shoulders and fasten the clasp, he set the horses off in a full gallop, rolling into the desert away from the small oasis.
“I made sure we had water, if you’re thirsty,” she told him, gripping the rail as the chariot sped along over the uneven ground. “I know they hardly gave you any today. There was nothing I could do about it, I’m sorry. Oh, and bread, I brought a loaf as well.”
He gave her a quick, admiring glance. “You have all the contingencies covered.”
She shrugged, gazing off at the desert, long straight hair flying in the breeze. “Where are we heading?”
“For now, in the opposite direction from the patrol the officer sent out earlier in the evening.” Kamin applied the whip lightly to the horses. Don’t want to wear them out too soon. “Did those soldiers eat your remarkable stew before they left camp?”
“Unfortunately, no. Amarkash was anxious for them to be gone, whatever their errand was. But I promised to keep the kettle simmering for stragglers.” She shot him a mischievous glance. “I don’t think they’ll be eating it now, do you?”
He laughed. “Probably not. My name is Kamin, by the way. Thank you for saving my life.” Inadequate words for what she did tonight but…
“I couldn’t leave you there,” she answered, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. “But we still have a long way to go to count our escape as successful.”
Surprised, Kamin glanced at her. “You’ve a level head for someone who’s been through what you’ve endured. How long were you with the Hyksos?”
“I lost track of time.” Keeping one hand locked tightly on the railing, she raised the other to her hair, smoothing it from her face. “Five days, maybe? An eternity.”
Five days of hell, no doubt. Having no idea what to say, Kamin paid full attention to driving the chariot.
*
**
He drove with consummate skill, avoiding obstacles she couldn’t even see in the moonlight, coaxing their best speed out of the tired animals. Nima held her cloak more closely and craned her neck to check their back trail for signs of pursuit. I was so afraid the drugged stew wouldn’t work. Small tremors passed through her frame, and she had to keep her jaw clenched so her teeth wouldn’t chatter. I killed someone tonight. No matter how many times she repeated the fact to herself, she couldn’t quite believe she’d actually committed the deed.
When her stepbrothers taught her knife skills, they’d made her swear if she ever actually needed to defend herself, she’d throw to kill. And she had, but the wet smacking sound as the knife had struck home had been awful. Knowing she’d taken a life, even an enemy’s, was a heavy weight on her heart. But Kamin agreed I did the necessary thing. He’s a soldier. He knows what’s honorable.
Racing over a small incline, the chariot jolted as it landed on the other side. To keep her from being knocked out of the chariot, Kamin grabbed her close to him with his free arm.
“I’m going to have to give the horses a break, let them walk for a few minutes,” he said, his lips next to her ear. “They’re tiring.”
Biting her lip, she nodded, every nerve in her body screaming at the idea of slowing their headlong dash for freedom. Her head ached from the tension. “If you say we must. “
“They’ll run till they die otherwise. If I conserve their strength we’ll get farther,” he said, slowing the team gradually until the horses were walking, then pulled them to a stop. “I’m going to get out and lead them. You stay here, sit on the end of the chariot and rest. Your weight adds nothing to their burden.”
She did as he suggested for a few moments, dangling her legs off the tail of the chariot while he walked at the lead horse’s head, firmly holding the reins. Restless, she hopped off the vehicle and joined him, slipping into a little series of pirouettes, twirling and admiring the starry sky. So good to be free!
“Your dance last night was a thing of beauty,” he said as she matched her stride to his.
“I’m a dancer. Dancing is what I do. I would have preferred not to give them the benefit of a performance, but Amarkash insisted.” Nima glanced at him for a moment, nervously playing with a strand of her hair, then studying the ground. “Sometimes when I dance for an audience I don’t care for, I stare above their heads. Or I’ll pick the friendliest face in the crowd.” Should I tell him the truth? “Last night, I was dancing for you alone.”
“I’m flattered.” Grinning, he shot her a sideways glance.
The promptness of his reply pleased her, and Nima laughed. “Well, don’t be too flattered—you were the only Egyptian there. I gave an awful performance, merging steps from several dances, trying to avoid anything too provocative.”
“I surmised you were improvising. Revising as you perform while keeping the dance flowing takes great skill. My compliments.”
Nima lowered her eyes modestly for a moment. “You’re a discriminating audience, not like the farmers and small-town merchants in Hebenar, may their souls gain the Afterlife.”
“Was Hebenar where you were taken prisoner?” Kamin asked, his voice low and soft.
She nodded, a lump in her throat. Her chest felt tight, and tears gathered in her eyes. I can’t talk about it, not yet. I’d probably weep hysterically, and we don’t have time for me to indulge myself. “Is the team rested enough yet? I want to get as far away from the Hyksos as we can.”
Kamin ran his hand over the nearest horse’s neck. “I’m as impatient as you are, but these animals are our best chance to make our escape successful.”
For a few moments they walked in silence, the only sound the thud of the horses’ hooves on the hard ground. Bending to snatch a wildflower from its stem, he handed the fragrant little bloom to her with a flourish. “Since I have no gold of valor available, let this show my admiration for your quick thinking and bravery tonight.”
“I’m suitably honored, sir,” she answered, tucking the tiny yellow flower into her hair, behind her ear. He’s not like any other soldier I’ve ever met, not in any tavern along the Nile. She pointed at the reins in his hand. “Are you a charioteer?”
He laughed. “No, why do you ask?”
“You drove so well, even with an unfamiliar team and this heavy chariot. You are a soldier?”
“I suppose my scars give away my profession.”
Her stomach rumbled, startling her. “Would you like some bread?” she asked, walking to get herself a snack from the provisions bag strapped to the chariot.
“Indeed, and a long drink of water, as you promised. I’m parched. Wasting the savory dinner you cooked tonight was torture.” He grinned. “You could teach the Hyksos a thing or two about torture.”
Hopping into the chariot, she grabbed a piece of stale bread from the covered pannier. “Catch!” She pitched the bread at him, admiring his athleticism as he plucked the crust from the air one-handed. Preparing to rejoin Kamin, Nima glanced at the horizon while she unhooked the water skin. Lowering the container without drinking a drop, unable to keep her voice from wobbling, she said, “Set’s teeth, what’s this cloud of dust behind us? Can they be coming after us already? I’d hoped my potion would leave them sleeping till well after the dawn.”
With one shaking finger she indicated a visible column of dust against the clear night sky behind them. Eyes narrowed, he gestured for her to get into the chariot. “Now it’s going to be a race. Hold on tight.” He jumped into the vehicle on her heels and flicked the reins hard, jolting their team into a gallop.
The horses flew over the ground as Kamin applied the long whip. Nima kept watch behind them and was dismayed to see the cloud of dust drawing closer, until she could make out the chariots full of soldiers.
“Three chariots, a total of seven men,” she reported, tugging on Kamin’s arm gently.
He risked a lightning glance behind them, his face grim. “Can you drive?”
Panic flared in Nima’s gut, but she forced her voice to frame words, trying to seem confident. “Yes. I’ve driven oxen. Can't be terribly different.”
He guffawed, a welcome sound in this tense moment. “I must meet these oxen of yours, since they apparently rival the best Hyksos chariot horses. Keep the team galloping in a straight line, unless you have to avoid an obstacle.”
Swallowing hard, she edged closer to the center front of the chariot. Kamin cracked the whip again, gaining a small spurt of speed from the horses, and handed her the leather straps. Sidling over a step or two in the heaving chariot, he pulled the war bow off its hooks, grabbing an arrow from the leather quiver. He took an archer’s stance next to her, aiming at their pursuers. Muscles flexing, he pulled the bow impossibly taut, wood creaking under the strain, and let the arrow fly.
“Missed,” he said, selecting his next arrow.
“How can you even see well enough to aim? Isn’t the chariot an unsteady platform?” She risked a quick sideways glance at him. “Should you waste the arrows?”
Shaking his head, he grinned at her, his teeth white in the moonlight. “Such doubt for my abilities. Rest assured, I’m used to shooting from a speeding chariot. Now I have the range, and the ranks of our pursuers are about to be diminished.” Drawing the bow again, he let fly. Nima craned her head slightly and saw someone fall out of the pursuing chariot.
“One down,” he said. “I’ll even the odds for us, I promise.”
His next arrow was equally deadly. Nima fought with the reins, arms pulled nearly from their sockets trying to keep the horses moving full speed in the direction Kamin wanted to go. His fourth arrow went wild as the chariot took an unexpected bounce over a ridge in the hard-packed ground.
“Sorry,” Nima yelled. The gait of the horse on the left was becoming less smooth, and he stumbled. She was preparing to warn Kamin of the problem when the animal collapsed in a boneless heap and the chariot slewed, tipping on one wheel. Flying through th
e air, Nima instinctively tucked into an acrobat’s pose, hitting the ground hard but rolling. Breath knocked out of her, she skidded and lay dazed, mouth open as she tried to suck air into her chest.
“Are you all right?” Kamin ran to her, kneeling by her side and running his hands over her body rapidly before helping her sit. “No broken bones, thank the gods. Come on, we only have moments before they arrive.”
Picking her up effortlessly, he sprinted to the overturned chariot.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. We pushed the poor beast beyond his endurance.” Kamin set her on her feet next to the chariot. The horse was sprawled motionless in the traces, cross tree shattered, the other horse long gone into the night. Taking a step or two, Nima knelt beside the animal’s body and smoothed her palm down its neck. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Putting his hand under her elbow, Kamin pulled her to her feet, giving her a gentle push toward the chariot. “Quickly, crawl under there and stay put. They won’t be able to get at you without fighting their way through me, and I won’t die easily.”
Hearing the whooping war cries of the Hyksos warriors, Nima scrutinized the oncoming chariots. “Four to one? Kamin, you can’t possibly—"
He stopped her with a kiss, tugging her body against his for a brief moment, his heat warming her chilled limbs before she pushed him away, wiping her lips.
Kamin laughed. “If I’m fighting for a beautiful girl like you, I can. And they want us alive, remember? Now get under there.”
Dropping to her knees, she crawled as far under the chariot as she could get. It wasn’t much in the way of shelter, but it was at least better than standing in the open, where the enemy could outflank Kamin and seize her. If I could be any help to him, I wouldn’t be hiding in here. Nima drew the knife from her belt and held it at the ready. She swallowed hard, fingers clenched around the carved bone hilt. When—if—the enemy gets past Kamin, I’m not surrendering. The knife would find her heart.
Dancer of the Nile (Gods of Egypt) Page 2
