“None but me,” I said, putting every bit of strength I could muster into my voice. “I am the sole survivor of Caravan Osmira.”
“It’s true, Father,” said Tillie beside him, her eyes wide. “Don’t you remember Evie? She was in the jungle when the attack happened and only found it two days later. Caravan Golura found her mourning in the wreckage.”
The man’s face slowly lost its accusing cast, as he examined me carefully. “You are her? You are the youngling who survived the massacre?”
I drew a deep breath. “It is true I was not there. I missed the massacre rather than survived it. But that’s not what is important. The important thing is that there is still time to save us all. The Osmira Oasis is near.” I knelt to draw a rough sketch in the sand beneath our feet. “It allowed our caravan to cut a shorter route to Largo.”
Several of the traders knelt beside me, examining the markings I had made. They pointed at several aspects, murmuring questions. At last they stood back to their feet, me with them.
“You are sure?” The caravan master pierced me with a stare. “You are sure you have the distances correct? You are sure you can find the way? All our lives would be depending on you.”
I nodded my head and felt Frederic step up to stand behind me.
“I trust Evie,” he said. “If she says she can do it, she can.”
Celine nodded her agreement.
“Well, then. We must move out immediately.” The caravan master clapped his hands loudly, and the caravan exploded into movement. All up and down the strings, camel-pullers called the news to each other. There was another oasis. We all had a chance to live.
Our camels had more water still inside them than we had in our water skins, so the caravan master declared that everyone who possibly could was to ride. The camel-pullers must still lead their strings, but they would be swapped out as often as possible.
Celine and I now rode at the front of the caravan. I had shown the others the way on my rough map, but they still wanted me to do the actual leading. I calculated the distance and the correct path over and over again in my head. It helped immensely that we were leaving a public oasis. Although Caravan Osmira had rarely stopped at this particular one, it had still been one of the locations drilled into us.
Our camp that night was rough and we stayed for as short a time as possible. Only the need to rest the camels had us stopping at all. We pushed on all through the next day, a headache building behind my eyes from the tension.
“We are getting near,” I eventually told the caravan master. “But I don’t think we can make it this evening. We will have to stop again.”
He nodded his understanding, but I could see the distaste in his eyes. We had run out of water supplies, and it had been a particularly hot day. I suspected he would push us on for as long as he could now, so we would have as little as possible to traverse the next day with dry mouths and weakening bodies.
Finding the route and keeping to it had so fully taken my focus that I failed to notice anything else. Thankfully, however, others weren’t so distracted.
“Dust!” went up the cry, to be taken and repeated by many lips. “Dust! Dust!”
“What do they mean?” asked Celine, sounding more fearful than I had ever heard her. “Do they mean a dust storm is coming?”
I twisted and scanned the horizon in every direction, looking for what had raised the alarm. I spotted it, and my mouth set into a grim line. “Worse. Bandits. I would have thought we were still too far out for them.”
“Form up!” yelled the caravan master in the loudest voice I had yet heard. A flurry of movement surrounded us as the traders launched into well-practiced movement. Full-scale bandit attacks were rare, but everyone was drilled for them. I could only imagine the training had increased since Caravan Osmira.
I slid down from my camel, and for a moment I swayed, dizziness sweeping over me and nearly causing my legs to collapse. With my eyes closed I could imagine it was my old caravan moving in such a way. That it was old, familiar voices calling out the warnings and orders. Was this what it had been like for them before the end? Or had they had no warning, taken completely by surprise?
A steadying hand gripped my waist, and I swallowed, pulling myself together as I looked up into Frederic’s face. He nodded once, calmly, and I nodded back, stepping forward on my own legs.
“This way,” he said, pulling Celine along behind him.
The bandits must be coming fast to raise such a dust cloud around them—they would have to move fast to limit their time in the desert. But even with the speed of their passage, we had fair warning. The signs of their presence could be seen far on a clear, hot day such as this.
The camels were formed into tight circles, many camels deep. The royals, nobles, and few children—such as Ofie’s cousin—were placed in the center of all the rings and told to keep themselves low to the ground. Celine and I lay almost flat, Tillie beside us, her face pale. The traders trained in combat and the guards were dispersed among the rings of camels, the majority of them on the outer ring where the largest of the packs had been placed as an outer barrier before the first of the camels. An overturned wagon would have been a better shield, but this was the best we could do.
Frederic and Cassian both crouched beside us, their drawn swords in their hands.
“Aren’t you going to fight?” asked Celine. “Out there I mean?” She waved toward the outer rings.
“Celine!” gasped Tillie. “They are royalty. They cannot be risked.”
Cassian shook his head. “It’s not ourselves we’re concerned for.” He eyed his sister. “We promised Mother we’d bring you home safely.”
“I promise you,” said Frederic, sounding more grim than I had ever heard him. “We’ll see fighting. We’re your last line of defense.”
I swallowed and wished I had some sort of weapon of my own. Once, many, many years ago, in my first life, I had possessed some little skill with a knife. But none of my lives since then had needed such a skill, and I had long ago lost it. Still, I would have liked a blade in my hand.
I looked over at Celine, and she must have read the look in my eye, because she reached into her boot and drew out a short dagger, handing it to me. I noticed that she had a second one in her own hand. When I raised my eyebrows at her, she merely shrugged and returned her attention to the outer ring of camels.
All of our archers had been placed on the external defenses. As the attacking party neared, they slowed, pulling their horses to ride in a tight ring around us. They hollered and yelled, but the defenders remained calm, shooting into their midst. Several men screamed and went down, trampled by the galloping horses behind them.
“Frederic,” I said above the noise. “They don’t look like bandits. Are those…?”
Frederic and Cassian exchanged a glance. “They’re bandits all right. They must be. But you’re right, they don’t look much like it.”
White-faced we all looked at one another. Our attackers were dressed as Royal Lanoverian Guards. They even carried a royal flag.
We weren’t the only ones to notice. “Royals.” The murmur went around our circles, rippling in and then out again. Frederic risked standing straight, giving others a sight of him.
“Do not be fooled!” he bellowed above the initial sounds of battle. “These are not royal guards. These are bandits dressed in stolen uniforms. And when we have vanquished them, we shall bring them to justice.”
The murmur died down, and Celine tugged him back toward the ground.
“Very heroic,” she said dryly. He ignored her.
“There will be hand-to-hand fighting, for sure,” said Cassian quietly. Frederic nodded, seeming to understand him, and they both moved, still at a crouch, to opposite edges of the circle. Whatever message they were sending rippled out through the ranks of the defenders. I soon saw the actual royal guard attached to the Tour stripping off any identifying marks that weren’t actually part of their protective covering. Enlightenme
nt dawned. When it came to hand-to-hand combat among the camels, we needed to be able to tell friend from foe. Or, more importantly, we needed the traders to be able to tell friend from foe.
No sooner was the job done, than the remaining attackers charged. The archers let off a final volley and then dropped their bows to bring up spears and swords. The clash of the two lines was almost defeating. The camels groaned and bellowed, many attempting to stand and run. Those of us who were not trained to fight had our hands full restraining them.
The screams and cries of the injured sounded above the clash of metal against metal, and I lost track of the progress of the battle as I turned my attention to the animals around me. When a royal guard leaped in front of me, I forgot for a precious half-second that our men had stripped off their uniforms. By the time I thought to bring up my own dagger, an almost useless weapon in the situation anyway, it was far too late. As death fell toward me, another blade appeared, ringing against the first and halting its downward motion. I scrambled backward to get behind Frederic. With a swift parry and thrust he dispatched the man.
“Stay behind me,” he said, his eyes roving between the camels. “And keep Celine with you.”
I forced my frozen body into action, swinging around and managing to catch at the princess as she attempted to throw herself into the fray.
“Evie! Let me go!” she panted, but I shook my head and held on tighter. “You only have a dagger Celine. They have spears and swords. Frederic gave me orders, and I’m not letting you be killed.”
“I won’t cower while others die,” Celine said with a hiss. “I want to fight.”
“And you can fight,” I agreed. My hand tightened. “When you have the right tools and training.”
I looked around but could now see no sign of most of the traders who had joined us in the center of the ring. Ofie’s cousin still cowered near me, but Tillie was no longer in sight. The older nobles, however, had surprised me. They stood in a united block with finely crafted blades shimmering before them. Thanks to them, our inner circle still held, although everywhere else chaos seemed to reign. Cassian, however, had disappeared. I could only hope he was still alive and unharmed. Frederic, at least, seemed unconcerned about him, his whole focus on us.
Two more attackers appeared with ferocious yells, and Frederic lunged forward to engage them both, his sword flashing so quickly my eyes could barely follow it. Even with two, he was holding them off.
Then a third appeared. Frederic faltered for less than half a second, adjusting his rhythm to hold off the newcomer, but even with his superior skill, the strain was starting to show.
“Now, will you let go of me?” Celine asked with a significant look.
I nodded but didn’t release my tight grip. I adjusted the dagger in my other hand. “Both of us,” I said as quietly as I could. “You crawl to the left, I’ll go to the one on the right. Don’t try to get fancy, just go for his foot. We just need to distract him for Frederic.”
She nodded once, and I let go, shimmying immediately to my right. Giving a wide arc around Frederic, not wanting to risk tripping him up, I crawled unseen to the right-most attacker. As soon as I reached him, I heard a yell from the man to the left. Without waiting to check what had happened with Celine, I plunged my dagger into the foot of the man in front of me.
Chapter 23
He screamed and cursed, staggering and nearly falling as I scooted quickly back out of the way. A moment later, he fell and didn’t rise again. With two of his attackers injured and distracted, Frederic made quick work of them all.
When his blade dropped, his breath coming ragged, he nodded at us both. I had half expected a reprimand, but his reaction indicated how much danger we had been in. Celine, looking paler than I expected, crawled quickly back to meet me behind her brother.
“I…I didn’t think it would feel like that,” she whispered in my ear.
I patted her shoulder. “If you need to vomit, try to hold it at least until the fighting has finished.”
And the fighting did seem to be dying down, the battle decreasing in both scope and severity. No other attackers made it through to us, and soon the sound of fighting had entirely ceased. We had prevailed.
Frederic turned to look back at us, his eyes skimming over Celine, who was already pushing herself to her feet, to land on me. He dropped to one knee beside me, his hand cradling my cheek.
“Are you hurt?”
I shook my head mutely.
“That was very brave.”
I managed a shaky laugh. “Hardly. Not compared to what you and so many others did.”
He shrugged. “I have spent many years training to use a blade.”
I swallowed. “Your leadership will be needed now. I’m unharmed.”
He nodded, almost reluctantly, and then stood. “Take as many prisoners as you can,” he called across the circles of camels, striding away from us.
I looked around at the aftermath, trying to see our toll for myself. “Where’s Cassian? I saw him fighting over in that direction, but he disappeared from sight.”
“There,” said Celine, and something in her tone of voice made me turn quickly. My eyes widened at the sight of Cassian striding toward us, Tillie cradled protectively in his arms, her hands around his neck, and her face tucked against his chest.
“Is that…and…”
“Yes,” said Celine. “I can’t believe it.” I couldn’t tell if the shock on her face was from the battle we had just lived through or the sight of the two of them in such a lover-like pose.
Not far from us, Cassian gently placed Tillie’s feet on the ground, ringing her in his arms and pressing his lips firmly down over hers. She returned the embrace enthusiastically while Celine and I watched with wide eyes.
When he let her go, he looked regretful. “I must attend to the wounded.”
“Yes.” Tillie’s voice shook. “I know where to find the medical supplies. I will be with you as soon as I can.”
After one last second of gazing into each other’s eyes, they separated, Cassian to kneel beside the closest wounded trader, his steady hands assessing his wounds, and Tillie to frantically tear at a pack located near us.
After a brief exchange of glances, we joined her. Between the three of us, we managed to get the fastenings undone, searching through the bags and pockets inside for the necessary bandages and medications.
“What…what happened?” I asked as we worked, our hurried fingers slipping and sliding in our haste. I didn’t even quite know how to frame the question.
“He saved me,” Tillie said breathlessly. “He nearly died doing it. He was so brave.” She cast a lightning quick look at us. “And he looked so handsome. I knew immediately he was everything I wanted in a man.”
Celine paused for the briefest moment before quickly resuming her task. “I suppose it helps that he appears to be able to talk to you now.”
“He’s been fine ever since the crisis began,” I pointed out. “I guess he just needed to be shocked out of it.”
“He told me he’s written poetry for me,” said Tillie, sounding shy for the first time since I’d known her.
Celine choked. “Poetry? Cassian?”
“Here!” I said triumphantly, upending a bag filled with armfuls of clean bandage rolls. “Quickly now.”
All three of us scooped up as many as we could carry and ran in opposite directions. I tried to shut my nose and ears as I picked my way among the wounded. To my relief, we seemed to have more whole than wounded, and everywhere I stopped there was someone ready to receive a roll of bandage. The trader life was rough, and everyone had some basic level medical training.
The Tour doctor, who had been protected in the middle of the nobles’ circle—a sensible move of which I highly approved—worked frantically, moving between the worst of the wounded. Night fell as we labored on to stem any bleeding and assess the damage.
Many of the camels had been lost, and I saw Ofie’s young cousin weeping over th
ree of theirs. To my relief, my friend stood behind him, comforting him despite the white bandage wrapped around his arm. When he saw me, he waved, shrugging off the wound as a graze.
Others had not been so fortunate, and the row of still bodies, while smaller than I had feared, still brought tears and a wrenching pain in my gut. Among the unfamiliar faces, I recognized a palace servant and three genuine guards, plus one trader who I had played with as a child. Fresh tears poured down my face.
Many times, when I faced another trader, I placed my palm against my heart, letting my action replace the words I could not find. Or I grasped their arms and rested my forehead against theirs, letting centuries of trader culture give me the words I couldn’t form on my own.
“Does it work?” asked Celine in a subdued voice, at one point. “Does it bring you comfort?”
I considered her words. “All I know is this: I once mourned a bandit attack alone, this day I mourn one with others. I feel stronger now than I did then, as the words say.”
She nodded once, her eyes shadowed. Someone had explained to her the fate of Caravan Osmira.
“Evie, Evie, there you are.” Someone I didn’t recognize gripped my arm and began to tug me away. “The caravan master is looking for you.”
Celine trailed behind me, as the trader girl led me through the makeshift camp that had sprung up. When we found the caravan master, he stood beside a saddled camel, one who had been unharmed in the fighting.
“Oh, good, there you are.” Without waiting for explanations, he grabbed my arm and pushed me on to its back.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Frederic appeared from somewhere, looking dirty and tired. “We desperately need water. The wounded, especially. We’ve stripped the fastest, strongest camels of their loads, and we’re sending a team to ride ahead for water and bring it back. We need you to lead them to the oasis.”
I nodded as the camel stood to its feet. A sudden memory of the last words I had heard Frederic say sprang to my mind.
The Princess Search: A Retelling of The Ugly Duckling (The Four Kingdoms Book 5) Page 18
