The Ivory Road: A Walk in the Sand

by Siobhan Muir

  He raised an eyebrow at her as she wrapped her silk scarf around her face again.

  “You like kissing women?”

  “I like kissing.” She laughed at his surprise. “It doesn’t matter whose lips as long as they’re good at it.” She arched a brow at him. “Think you could do better?”

  “Than the barmaid?” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Would you give me the chance?”

  Iliana’s gut fluttered with giddy butterflies. It’s just ’cause you had a good kiss. “Yeah, I might. But you still owe me a dagger.”

  He nodded, his expression curious. “Yeah, I know. You put on a helluva show, that’s for sure. Earned that dagger. I’m impressed.” He laughed and shook his head.

  “That’s a step in the right direction then.”

  They’d almost reached their hostel when the stench of garlic and curry drifted in the air from the alley. Iliana’s gut clenched and Brandon’s shoulders tightened as the shadows shifted just outside of the lantern’s light.

  “Well, master Brandon Crowe, it has been a long time.”

  Chapter Seven: “With friends like these, who needs enemies…?”

  The scuffing of many feet brought Iliana and Brandon to a full stop. She thanked her lucky stars she’d decided to wear her throwing knives because when the shadows separated, six large men filled the space around two smaller men. One she recognized.

  “Ahmad?”

  Their fellow traveler stood behind a rotund man in a creamy turban. A large jewel rested against his forehead, but the color remained indistinct in the dim light. The six large guards bristled with weapons and scars. None of them seemed capable of smiling, but she didn’t think their smiles would be pleasant if they could.

  “Reichart.” Brandon’s voice held a jovial tone and his face creased into a lazy smile. “It has been a long time. What brings you so far east?”

  Iliana’s gaze fell on Ahmad’s grim smirk. I bet I know why he’s here.

  “It has been too long, Master Crowe.” Reichart rubbed a hand through his black bushy beard and thick eyebrows lowered over a nose broken one too many times. His eyes glittered in the dim light, reminiscent of a rat’s. Iliana suppressed a gut-felt shudder and dropped her hands close to her knives.

  “You still owe me money, Crowe.” Reichart tipped his head and crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “I understand your recent trip to the desert would pay off the last of your debt.”

  “That is the plan and the deal, Reichart.” Brandon nodded, his expression still relaxed. “I was on my way to pay you back as soon as I sold the merchandise in Ros Torach. We stopped here for supplies before heading to the coast.” He tipped his head. “I’m kinda curious what brought you out of your estate into Knalland. I thought you didn’t travel anymore.”

  “Oh, I don’t, that’s true. But Ahmad gave me the impression I’d want to see to this transaction personally.” Reichart sighed with theatrical sorrow. “Like him, I feel it’s important to take care of this now, before more time has passed. You’re far too crafty, Master Crowe. I’m of the mind you’d take the ‘merchandise’ and run. Am I mistaken?”

  “Yes.” Brandon’s voice hardened and Iliana tensed.

  This is gonna get bad fast.

  “I honor my agreements and my debts, Reichart. Once I made my financial deals, your estate was my next stop.” His gaze swung to Ahmad and he raised his chin with derision. “Whatever Ahmad told you is incorrect. We just managed to escape the Knalish Army and get here.”

  Brandon crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. “Speaking of which, why didn’t you let the army have me at the oasis, Ahmad? Then you could’ve been free and clear with my half of the vault. No need for these theatrics.”

  Ahmad shrugged. “Reichart promised me the remainder of your haul from the vault if I brought you to him. I would’ve left you to the army if you’d stayed in the oasis, but you went sniffing after that female.” Ahmad’s lip curled as he gave Iliana a once-over. “You never could keep it in your pants, Crowe.”

  Brandon ignored Ahmad as he kept his focus on the man with the jeweled turban. “I make good on my deals, Reichart. I don’t want your debt hanging over me. I would’ve paid it when I reached the coast.”

  The other man cocked his head as he considered Crowe's words. “I see you have a new companion with you. Ahmad tells me she is a traveler who knows the Karobis well enough to cross its length and breadth. Is this she?”

  “Why do you care, Reichart?” Crowe casually rested his hand on his sword hilt. “My guide has nothing to do with our business or my debt.”

  “On the contrary, Master Crowe,” Reichart disagreed. “She may be able to help with your debt. I suspect she could be of use to me.”

  Nothing like being a commodity to be traded among men. Iliana gave the man a flat stare. If not for the six other large men, she would’ve told Reichart to fuck off.

  Brandon’s shoulders tightened more. “How so?”

  Reichart’s gaze skittered down Iliana’s body. She’d definitely need a bath if they survived this encounter.

  “I’m sure she could help pay off part of your debt with her charms.” Reichart licked his lips and smirked. “After which she could offer her services of safe passage back to your precious vault in the Karobis.”

  Like hell. If you think I’m gonna do anything for you, you got another think coming.

  Brandon barked a laugh, making everyone jump. “I didn't know your tastes ran to boys, Reichart.” He waved at Iliana. “I was mistaken when I told Ahmad our fellow traveler was a woman. It turns out she is a he and while he’s of small bones and soft voice, he’s certainly all man. Just ask the wenches and the men in the Strutting Cock. Plenty of witnesses saw him kiss the hell outta a barmaid.” Brandon sobered. “And he doesn't know where the vault is. Only Ahmad and I have been there, and only I know how to get back.”

  Reichart’s gaze returned to Iliana, scanning her figure and her stance. She didn’t squirm or look away from his ribald scrutiny. He could look all he liked. Good luck in seeing through the clothes, prick. She continued to watch the others. The tension rose and she hoped she’d be ready to move in time.

  Reichart’s eyes narrowed as he tried to determine who’d lied, a frown pulling down the edges of his mouth. The men behind him shifted restlessly, waiting for his word.

  “Very well, Master Crowe, I shall believe you for the moment, but it doesn’t absolve you of your debt. You will pay me, and you will pay me now…In the merchandise you recovered.”

  Again, Brandon laughed, but it didn’t sound pleasant. “I don’t think so, Reichart. I won’t sell myself short. I know exactly how much I owe you and I’ll pay you no more than that.”

  “Ah, but because of your delay the price just went up. Interest, you know.” Reichart’s fleshy lips curled with a malicious smile.

  Iliana mentally snorted. No honor among thieves. Guess it’s a truism.

  Brandon stepped back and spread his hands in helplessness. “I'm afraid you’ll just have to wait until I make it to the coast. We had a deal, I’m honoring my end. You wouldn’t want the news to get out you don’t uphold your contracts, Reichart. The Thieves Guild takes a dim view on that. In the meantime, you have Ahmad and his share. What I owe will come to you once I’ve reached the coast.”

  Reichart’s jaw clenched at the mention of the guild, but he dug out his smarmy smile. “Oh, Master Crowe, it wouldn’t be wise choice on your part. You may never make your destination if you wait. You see, I was concerned for your welfare should anything happen to you before the deadline. I’m not willing to take the chance. So, it’s now or never.”

  Aw shit, here we go.

  Iliana wondered who she’d hit first. There was no way Brandon would just hand over the loot, not after all they’d gone through to get it. Reichart brought the six men and Ahmad to help him win this altercation. He might.

  This whole situation read like a script from Star Wars and the smuggler on the desert pl
anet. How did he get out of his mess? As she recalled, he’d ended up frozen in a metal casing. Not exactly a win-win situation for him.

  She scanned their opponents as she checked her weapons. She had twelve knives, but if she missed with any of them, she and Brandon would be in a world of hurt. Reichart had set the stage and now they just had to figure out how to dance. She wished Aristotle was with her.

  “Huh.” Brandon shot a look at Iliana, nodding. “Very well. Have it your way.”

  Reichart smiled with satisfaction as Brandon shifted toward her. She shot him a surprised look just before he drove his sword into the man’s gut and jerked it upward. Reichart’s squeal of pain ended in a gurgle as the other men around him launched into the fray.

  Her mind stopped thinking and her body took over. She skittered sideways and threw her knives at the easiest targets. Three men fell before they realized she’d become part of the fight. They grunted as they hit the flagstones. Ahmad ducked behind her latest target, but she’d thrown two more knives by the time he emerged and he jerked with their impacts.

  Brandon danced past Reichart’s body, and closed in on the three men left standing. His blade flashed faster than she’d seen her sword instructor move and the thugs had little chance to get their own swords in play. He stabbed the first in the belly and separated the second from his hands. The third got in a few strokes before Brandon batted his sword aside and punched him in the throat. The thug dropped to the ground and Brandon finished him off with a kick to the head.

  Iliana came back to herself, her breath sawing in her chest. She’d no idea she’d been so proficient with throwing knives. She blinked and tried not to think about what the skill meant. It was them or me, and I prefer me. She shot a look around the street, searching for onlookers or guards, but no one had seen them take down Reichart’s goons.

  She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart as Brandon knelt beside Ahmad where he lay gasping in the street. He wore a knife in his shoulder and one in his gut. He breathed in ragged, pain-filled grunts, and blood stained the flagstones underneath him. She scowled as she jerked the blade from his shoulder free.

  “What's it like to be a turncoat, Ahmad?” She wiped the knife on his chest as he groaned. “Your choices turn my gut. And to think I was grateful for your efforts in saving my life in the desert.”

  He grimaced with contempt. “Nothing personal, boy. It was just business.”

  She nodded. “Same here. Nothing personal, just business. You know how it goes.” She shrugged nonchalantly as she left him to Brandon while she retrieved her knives from the other men. Touching their still bodies gave her the willies, but she wouldn’t leave the knives where someone else could collect them. Ugh, we’re gonna have to move the bodies.

  “I got one question for you, Ahmad.” Brandon's gravelly voice came out of the dark as she struggled to drag the heavy thugs into the alley. “Why?”

  The dying man laughed weakly. “It was better to be on Reichart’s side because it repaid my debt. All I had to do was bring you to him and I was free to go.”

  “You're free of him now, Ahmad.” Brandon shook his head and rose. “And you’re free of me, too.”

  “Crowe, wait.” Ahmad reached for him, but his arm didn’t have the strength. “Don't leave me here to die, partner. Take me with you.”

  Brandon snorted. “Not an option anymore, even if you could be trusted. Rory’s knife hit you in the kidneys and your blood is poisoned. There’s nothing I can do for you. No one can. I suggest you make peace with whatever gods you call your own.”

  “I thought you called him Iliana.” Ahmad sounded suspicious.

  “Yeah. His people have odd first names for boys. You would’ve known that if you’d talked to him at all, Ahmad. Rory is his surname.” Brandon turned away and scanned the street for witnesses. “We have to get out of here. Do you need help moving the bodies, Rory?”

  “Yeah. What about Ahmad?” Iliana swallowed back bile. Definitely no honor among thieves. I hope Brandon’s better than that.

  “I’ll drag him into the alley with the others. Did you get all their belt pouches?”

  She straightened. “No. Why?”

  “Dead men have no need of money.”

  She scowled behind her veil and shook her head. “That’s not something I can do. If you want to raid the dead, have at it. I’ll keep watch.”

  Brandon nodded and went to work on the dead. He handed her the pouches on his way to drag Ahmad into the alley, the man protesting all the way. She pitied him, but her anger overrode any compassion. I just hope he dies quick and everyone’s done with him. She emptied all the money into one pouch and dropped the rest on the ground at Reichart’s feet. If they were lucky, it’d look like a mugging. Brandon met her at the mouth of the alley and they headed for the hostelry without a backward glance.

  Her thoughts returned to the moments before—had it just been a few minutes?—and it hit home how close they’d come to dying. And how little she actually knew about Brandon. A shudder started in her gut and spread from there as they took the stairs up to their room. She stumbled the last few steps and Brandon caught her arm to keep her from falling.

  “Are you all right?” He steered her into their room and closed the door.

  “I will be when I come down off the adrenaline rush.” She hadn’t meant to sound terse, but her teeth chattered with reaction. She braced herself against the wall and closed her eyes.

  “You fought well back there.” He would’ve said more, but she rounded on him.

  “Should I say thank you? Because I don’t think very well of myself for having killed those men.” Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed it back. “I did it because we would’ve been road-kill to those bastards, but I don’t want to do it again if I can help it.”

  She rubbed her hands over her face and tried to calm down. Yelling at Brandon wouldn’t help their situation. It might make me feel better, though.

  She sighed and shook her head. “I was so looking forward to sleeping inside tonight. God, I could use a drink. But I think we should get out of here, now, before any more of your creditors come looking for you.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you have any other people to whom you owe money?”

  “No, Reichart was the last.” He packed his belongings back into his saddlebags.

  “Does this mean you’re absolved of your debt to him?” She threw her bags over her shoulders and headed for the door. She cracked it open and looked out to be sure no one overheard them or came looking for them. The hallway remained clear and she stepped out.

  Brandon followed and closed the door behind them. “Yeah. His minions will fight over his place of power, but none of them could care less about me.”

  “Good.”

  They stopped speaking as they carried their gear downstairs into the common room. The space was packed with patrons and serving women, almost standing-room-only. They wove their way toward the door, keeping an eye on their belt pouches. Wandering hands wouldn’t be noticed in the crowd.

  Iliana pushed out into the night and breathed sigh of relief. The air might be warm and hold the scent of horse manure, but it smelled better than rancid beer and male sweat. She’d also caught sight of some guards drinking in the common room with wenches on their laps. Might be their night off, but I don’t really want to know.

  She led them into the stable and they slipped past the stable hands who shared a fairly rich meal by candlelight in the tack room. The sounds of horses shifting in their stalls filled the gaps between the boys’ conversation. She strode directly to Aristotle’s stall and found the gray horse dozing in clean straw. He looked tired and comfortable. She hated to make him travel on, and sighed as Brandon came up beside her.

  “Look, Brandon, I want to get one thing straight before we keep going.” She met his gaze and hoped she wouldn’t regret her choice to stick with him. Yeah, like I have any other option right now. “I don’t know much about this place, but I understand the motiv
ation of greed very well. I have no interest in your wealth or the things you took from the desert.” She shot a look over his shoulder to be sure the stable boys didn’t hear them.

  “The point is I’m not from this world and I don’t really want to be in it alone. My job was to get you across the desert. I’m content to live on what little coinage we collected from the thugs. So, don’t get fidgety about money. I don’t want any of yours.”

  She turned away to locate Ahmad’s horse, but couldn’t tell which stall it had been put in. Brandon caught her shoulder and swung her around to face him.

  “Iliana.” He waited until he had her full attention. “I had no idea Ahmad worked for Reichart. This was meant to be my last run to cover my debts. I’d planned to turn my hand to a legal trade after this.”

  He stopped as they caught movement from the tack room and he pushed her back into the shadows of the stalls as one of the boys looked down the center aisle of the stable. Iliana held her breath and tried not to enjoy the press of Brandon’s warm body against hers. This close she could easily kiss him. What are you thinking? You don’t know anything about him other than he’s efficient at killing.

  The stable boy squinted into the darkness for a few more heartbeats then went back to his dinner and companions. They both breathed out in relief at the same time, and Brandon eased back.

  “Sorry. Where was I?”

  She blinked and tried to remember the conversation. “Uh, legal trade.”

  “Oh, right.” He carried his saddlebags to the stall housing his bay. “The treasure I got from the vault is enough to pay my debts and let me retire for a good many years.”

  She snorted. “You, retire from adventuring? Right.” She shook her head and opened Aristotle’s stall. “What would make you stop?”

  “Other than men like Ahmad and Reichart?”

  Iliana grunted with amusement and he shot her a smile. “There’s good money and a better likelihood of surviving longer as a hired sword for the caravans or even as a weapons instructor. I’ve heard of men living like kings from teaching rich children how to defend themselves against bandits.”