Zikka Sandwhisper's Arc

Chapter 2 of 5

Zikka's mount slid down the dune, hooves kicking sand. Below, the sultan's caravan crept east in a long line. She meant to slip close and lose herself among the servants. But a shout rang out behind her. She turned in the saddle. Two riders had doubled back along the route. Scouts. Their spears caught the sun. They scanned the dunes, and their heads were turning toward her. She yanked the reins and dropped behind a ridge. Too late for a quiet approach now. If the scouts marked her as a trailing rider, every guard in that line would watch for her. Her whole plan died the moment they named her a threat. Tharak reined in beside her. He drew an arrow and sighted on the nearest scout. "Two shots. I can drop both before they call out." "No." She caught his wrist. "Two dead scouts and he doubles the guard. Then no one gets near him." Tharak lowered the bow, jaw tight. He had slept while the idol was stolen. She saw him hungry to fix it with blood. She needed him to wait instead. Zikka slid from her mount. She stripped the saddlebag of its trail dust and rubbed her arms clean. Then she loosened the ties of her priestess garb until little was left to the eye. "They are looking for someone chasing them," she said. "So I will not chase. I will be lost." She walked out from behind the ridge. Not hiding. Not riding. She stumbled down the slope on bare feet, one hand raised, swaying as if the sun had cooked her dry. The scouts spotted her at once and spurred toward her. She let her knees fold and sank into the sand. They circled her, spears half-lowered. One leaned down. "You. Who travels with you?" "No one," she breathed. She let her voice crack. "My people left me. Three days, no water." She lifted her face to him and let him look at her a long moment. The spear tip drifted down. "Please. I only want to reach the oasis." The scouts traded a glance. A lost woman was no trailing threat. One sheathed his blade. "The sultan rewards those who bring him rare things," he said, grinning. "And you are rare. Walk with us." They hauled her up and let her lean on a horse's flank. Zikka hung her head and hid her smile. The scouts had not found a hunter. They had found a gift to carry straight to their master. Above on the ridge, Tharak watched her vanish into the line of pack beasts. He gripped his bow and stayed hidden, as she had told him. The caravan swallowed her whole. She was inside now, with no blade and no guard, riding toward the gold man himself.