Chapter 13
One week later--one week of being hot and cold and dirty and tired and restless--more palm trees appeared on the horizon. There were too many trees to be just another oasis and that meant one thing. Our journey across the Desert of Shifting Sands was over. The sun was low in the western sky, framing the palms with a red, orange, and pink backdrop. Other sand ships sailed in front of the palms, some heading north, some heading south, none heading east or west, save for us.
One of the sailors said something in his native tongue of Old Landish. Edgerton leaned toward me, repeating what the sailor said. "He says we're only a few miles from the village of Mustakas, which is their home port. It's not a big place, but there is a decent inn where we can spend the night."
Eventually, I could see the edge of the desert, its red sand washing up against shrub covered hills scattered with palms. Houses sat atop several of the hills, while herds of goats wandered between them. So, no wild men on this side of the desert.
Everything looked peaceful, even though I saw no soldiers. I had always considered Adah to be as civilized as any place, but I couldn't help but wonder if we really were the barbarian side of the world. It made me wonder if I could fit in on this side of the world. Would they find me too backward, too uncivilized, too much of a barbarian? What if they did. I never asked to come here. I was drugged, tied up, and brought here against my will. I wasn't the only barbarian on this ship.
Our sailors hopped off the ship, used tow ropes to turn it south, and hopped back on without dropping the sails. For the first time in two weeks, we weren't heading west.
We passed another ship heading north. Except for the color of the sails, which were done in a purple and yellow checkerboard pattern, it looked identical to our ship. As the two ships passed, one of the sailors on the other ship yelled something to our sailors. One of our sailors yelled back, then pointed to me.
"What was that about?" I asked.
"The sailor on the other ship asked our guys where they've been," Edgerton said. "Our man said to the end of the earth to find a beautiful princess."
"With no tillers on their ships, how do they keep from running into each other?"
"They have lanes. South bound ships take the outside lane, north bound ships take the inside."
I didn't see any lanes, but the sailors obviously knew where they were.
After a couple of miles of heading south, a village came into view. There were maybe two dozen buildings scattered across the hillside, wooden structures that were pale brown in color. When we got closer, I could see that the walls and roofs were nothing more than dried palm fronds woven between bamboo frames. The dirt streets that wound around the buildings were lined with wooden torches that stood about seven feet high. Someone had already lit the torches, giving the village a festive appearance. At the bottom of the hill, half a dozen sand ships were tied to wooden stakes.
Our sailors dropped sails and we coasted to a quick stop parallel to the village. We hopped off. The sailors grabbed the tow ropes, pulled the ship to the base of the hill, and tied it to a couple of heavy wooden stakes embedded in the ground.
Edgerton said something to the sailors in their native tongue, pulled two not so small bags from his waistcoat, and handed a bag to each sailor. The two sailors looked inside the bags and smiled, clearly satisfied with their payment. The three men shook hands, then the two sailors headed off in opposite directions. Just like that, our journey across the desert was over.
"How come the sailors don't speak the Common Tongue?" I asked when Edgerton rejoined Bokham and me.
"They rarely deal with anybody but locals. Usually they travel north and south, ferrying people and goods from one village to another. It took me a long time to find a ship willing to head across the desert."
"How far are we from Vassa?"
"A little over three hundred miles."
"That far." Our journey across the Desert of Shifting Sands was over, but our journey to Vassa was far from over.
"The rest of the trip will be easier. The capital city of Landish, Istansada City, is about two days ride from here. The city is located at the confluence of three rivers. Those three rivers form the Istansada River. The Istansada is a wide deep river that cuts through the middle of the Finger States. I have a ship waiting for us in Istansada City. It will take us home."
Home. This wasn't home. This was as far from home as I could get. A strange new world where I could barely speak the language. Maybe some day it would be home, but not yet.
"I'm hungry," I said. "I'd like a bath and a change of clothes."
"The inn at the top of the hill is built over a natural hot spring. You can eat and bathe there. I'm not sure what to do about a change of clothes. Perhaps we can convince a tailor to open his shop."
"If this town has a tailor," Bokham muttered.
"Only one way to find out." Edgerton turned and headed up the hill. I fell in behind him and Bokham brought up the rear, sword on his hip, crossbow slung across his back.
The inn didn't have a name. At least I didn't see one on the outside of the building. Like all the other buildings in town, it consisted of a bamboo frame with dried palm fronds woven between the bamboo. There was no door, just an open doorway. There was no floor inside the building, just packed dirt.
In the middle of the main room was a large fire pit. Some sort of meat, probably goat, was roasting over the fire. Kegs of ale rested on wooden stands surrounding the fire pit. Mugs made from fired clay hung from the sides of the kegs. The rest of the room was filled with round wooden tables surrounded by matching stools. Both the left and the right hand wall contained five doorways. Strips of red, white, green, yellow, and blue silk hung in the doorways, giving the people in the rooms some privacy.
A fat man with the same olive colored skin and black beard as our two sailors stood by the fire pit, serving plates of meat and mugs of ale to about a dozen customers. He wore an identical outfit to what our sailors wore. Silk pants that fit snug around the ankles then ballooned around the legs, a sleeveless vest that didn't close, and a turban.
Two serving girls, both short and slim, with olive colored skin and long black hair, carried the plates and mugs to the customers. Like the man, they wore dark blue silk pants and white silk vests. Unlike his vest, theirs were tied shut. All of the customers were bearded men in similar outfits. Clearly all locals.
We weren't locals, a fact made obvious by the way we looked and dressed. The locals seemed most interested in Bokham, being a good head taller than anyone else, with blond hair made even paler by two weeks in the desert sun. They seemed least interested in me, probably because I bore a strong resemblance to the two serving girls. We were all short with long black hair. Plus, two weeks in the desert had made my skin darker than normal, not as dark as the serving girls, but dark enough to make me less interesting than Bokham.
We found an empty table near the back, one facing the door, and sat. It was hot inside the inn, partly because it was still hot outside, partly because of the fire in the fire pit. I took off my cloak and draped it over an empty stool to my right. No one glanced at the yellow outfit I still wore.
We hadn't been there a minute when one of the serving girls approached our table balancing three plates of meat on one arm and three mugs in her other hand. She set the food and drink on our table and left. She came back a minute later with a loaf of bread fresh out of the fire pit. Edgerton spoke to her, speaking Old Landish. He said everyone spoke the Common Tongue in this part of the world, but we were on the fringe of their world, and out on the fringe, things were obviously different.
"Bathing rooms are to our left," Edgerton said, cutting the bread with a knife he pulled out of his waistcoat. "Sleeping rooms are to our right. After dinner, one of the girls will take you to a bathing room. You can wash some of the desert off you. I also asked her if she had an extra outfit she'd be willing to sell us. Lucky for us, she's about your size."
"Not much differe
nce between what she's wearing and what I'm wearing now."
"True, but after two weeks, you must be tried of wearing the same thing. Plus, what she gives us will be clean."
I couldn't argue with that, so I turned my attention to the bread and meat and ale. The meat was tough and overcooked. The ale warm. The bread hot and fresh. After two weeks of eating nothing but coconut, anything would've tasted good.
There were five bathing rooms above a single pool. The pool was a natural hot spring. Clear warm water bubbled up from the cracked granite that made up the pool's bottom. Walls made from bamboo poles with palm fronds divided the hot spring into five rooms. The walls didn't extend down into the pool, but merely ran over the top of it.
If somebody wanted to, they could've swam underneath the walls into the adjoining room. With Edgerton in the room on my right, and Bokham in the room on my left, there was little chance of that happening. Someone had carved benches out of the pool's granite sides. Allowing you to sit and soak in the blissfully warm water, which I gladly did.
I was still sitting in the hot spring when I had another vision. Two men and a woman burst into the inn with swords drawn. All three of them wore black, black cotton breeches, black riding boots, black cotton waistcoats over black shirts.
The two men went after Edgerton and Bokham. The woman burst into my room. She found me soaking in the spring and smiled. "So you're the barbarian princess who plans on becoming the next Queen of Vassa. I don't think so." She swung her sword at my neck and I had to dive underneath the water to avoid having my head lopped off.
The vision faded and I found myself alone in the bathing room. I immediately scrambled out of the hot spring and into the outfit the serving girl left me, dark blue balloon pants and a sleeveless white silk vest that pushed my breasts up and left my waist bare. The pants were a touch short and the vest was tight across the chest. The girl left me a pair of sandals that tied around the ankle.
I tied my hair back into a ponytail, then burst into Bokham's room. He was sitting naked in the hot spring, all blond hair and long lean muscles. As soon as he saw me, he stood up and covered his groin with his hands.
"Three people dressed in black are coming to kill us. Get dressed and draw your sword."
I left before Bokham could say anything, moving into Edgerton's room. He was also soaking in the hot spring and as I suspected, Edgerton's bulk consisted of more muscle than fat. He didn't stand up like Bokham did, but he did cover his groin with his hands.
"Three people dressed in black are coming to kill us. Get dressed and find us some swords."
"Ask the innkeeper for a sword," Edgerton said. "He usually keeps a scimitar or two in the house."
"Scimitar," I said, repeating the local word for sword.
I went back into the main room, which was now empty except for the innkeeper and the two serving girls. The serving girls were clearing the tables, dropping the dirty mugs and plates in a wooden washtub. The innkeeper was sitting at a table next to the fire pit, eating his dinner. He smiled as I approached him, but the smile quickly faded when he saw the worried look on my face.
"Scimitar," I said. "Scimitar."
He glanced at the fire pit. In the edge of the pit, its tip stuck in the bottom, was a curved sword.
I had just enough time to move toward it and wrap my hand around the hilt when the three strangers burst into the room.
They didn't say anything, they just drew their swords and spread out. The man on the left began to search the bathing rooms. The man on the right searched the sleeping rooms. The woman blocked the exit, but paid scant attention to the innkeeper, the serving girls, and myself. That's when I realized that she thought I was one of the serving girls. Not surprising since we were all about the same size, had long black hair, and wore identical outfits.
When the man on the left reached the third bathing room from the front, a sword plunged through the piece of red silk that served as the door. It penetrated the man's stomach, drove all the way through him, and came out the small of his back.
A still shirtless Bokham stepped out from behind the silk door and pulled his sword out of the man's skewered belly. The man dropped his sword, collapsed to his knees, and then onto his side.
The man checking the sleeping rooms moved toward Bokham, clearly intending to help the woman, who was now engaged in a sword fight with Bokham. Before he could get there, I pulled the scimitar out of the fire pit and rushed him. I raised the scimitar high over my head and brought it down in a slicing blow.
The man hadn't been expecting trouble to come from what he thought were locals. He kept his focus on Bokham and never looked in my direction until it was too late, until my scimitar had sliced his sword hand off at the wrist.
As his hand and sword tumbled to the dirt floor, the man screamed in pain and dropped to his knees. The scream distracted the woman just long enough for Bokham to plunge his sword into her heart. She stared at the sword in her chest in disbelief. Bokham pulled it out and the sword in her hand tumbled to the dirt floor. A second later, she collapsed on top of it, dead.
"Hold out your severed arm," I said to the man who had lost his hand. When he hesitated, I added, "If you want to live, you'll do as I say."
He might have been in pain, shock even, but he understood what I said and held out his severed arm. I pressed the flat of my still hot blade against his severed wrist. The burned flesh sizzled. A metallic smell filled the room, but the hot blade did its job, cauterizing the bleeding stump at the end of his arm.
With the man's life out of danger, I moved the edge of the blade to his throat. "Who sent you to kill me?"
"I have no interest in killing serving girls," the man said, speaking the Common Tongue.
"I'm no serving girl. I'm Lila Marie Haran, fourth daughter of Bella Justine Haran, the twelfth Queen of Adah. Did the King of Dunre send you? Does he lust for land and power so much that he would assassinate someone that's never even seen Vassa? Someone that has no connection to its queen or her throne?"
Edgerton told me that the King of Dunre, Maximillian Bedard, coveted Queen Catlett to the point that he asked her to marry him. When she turned him down, he became obsessed with destroying her and those around her.
The man didn't answer, not that I expected him to, not that he had to. The way his eyes widened in surprise when I asked if the King of Dunre sent him, told me all that I needed to know. I withdrew the sword from the man's throat. "Return to your king and tell him that I won't forget what happened here today."
The man looked at his sword lying on the floor, then looked at me. I nodded, letting him know that he could pick it up. With his sword hand gone, he wasn't a threat. It would be years before he learned how to fight with his other hand.
He grabbed his sword and used it as a crutch, sticking its point in the dirt floor and pushing himself to his feet. I watched him stagger out of the inn. When he was gone, I turned to Edgerton, who had finally managed to dress himself and struggle out of his bathing room.
"This is a good blade. Ask the innkeeper if there's a blacksmith in town who can make one for me." I liked the scimitar. It was longer than the sword I trained with, but weighed about the same. Plus, it matched the outfit I was currently wearing.
"There's a blacksmith in the village," Edgerton said. "And he does make swords. I suspect he'll also have a couple of extra horses to sell. Our two dead assassins certainly won't be needing them."
"We should pay him a visit right now," Bokham said. "It's no longer safe to stay here. Now that the assassins know we've arrived."
Edgerton nodded in agreement. I returned the scimitar to the innkeeper and collected my cloak. Edgerton paid the innkeeper, throwing in a little extra to take care of the severed hand and the two dead bodies.
Edgerton and Bokham seemed convinced that other assassins were waiting for us. If that was true, then this part of our journey would be more eventful than our trip across the desert.