Amaskan's Blood, Raven Oak [read me a book .TXT] 📗

thirst would have to wait as she checked Midnight’s hide for any signs of wear or burns. Nothing appeared on the skin itself, but when she touched his hind flank with light hands, Midnight’s skin twitched in response.

Another saddlebag held the sealed pot of aloe paste, which she coated across the irritated skin. Next Adelei retrieved several small, dried hay cubes which she broke apart and offered to Midnight. At first, he turned up his nose at such an offering, but after sniffing the bottom of the tent and finding no grass, he dug in without complaint.

The camel outside leaned close to the tent, casting shadows across it. He stepped away to the length of his tether and munched on what little brush sprouted. Animals’ needs met, she dug through one pack and pulled out the treated wood cubes for her fire. Adelei grimaced at the foul odor. “At least they’ll burn,” she muttered before venturing out into the wind.

She leaned several hides and sticks together on the ground where she laid the firewood. Coated with flammable oils, the fire squares would burn long enough to get some food into her growling stomach.

The night before, she’d choked down dried jerky and a chunk of hardened bread before collapsing into her layer of blankets. Tonight I need something with a bit more substance. The air’s got a kick to it.

Adelei carried Midnight’s now empty water bowl toward a yellow-flowered cactus whose roots reached deep into the cool underground. She dug with the bowl until she exposed half of the plant’s roots and pulled, ripping loose ten inches of root.

She trudged back to the fire pit where she warmed several roots until she could crush them and release precious water from inside. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as she watched the root. A few greens and jerky from her saddlebags and she had quite a stew cooking.

As the sun set, the temperature dropped. The hides protected her fire, but by the time the stew was done, the flames were little more than glowing embers. A crunching of twigs sounded nearby, and she flinched. Nothing smelled unusual other than her slightly burned dinner. The only creatures moving nearby were Midnight and the camel.

Slowly she stretched her muscles as she approached the tent. Her ears strained above the hiss of sand blowing, albeit lighter now that night had truly fallen. The crunch from earlier reached her again from beneath her own feet, and she peered down. Blue-green beetles the size of a fingernail scurried across the sand.

Adelei stepped inside the tent. Midnight lifted his hoof, which was smeared with the innards of a beetle. Another beetle lay crushed nearby.

“I don’t see anything else out here but the three of us. Could you crunch beetles quieter next time?” she asked Midnight. After standing stock still for five minutes and having nothing jump out at her, she settled back down near the fire outside.

Despite the slightly burned taste, Adelei devoured the entire bowl. Stomach full and thoroughly exhausted from over a day in the saddle, she crawled into her sleeping roll on hands and knees and slumped down with her eyes already shut. Midnight would have to defend her from any stray beetles that might crawl into the tent.

After another day in the desert, Adelei sighed in relief at the lack of wind. Gritty sand gave way to larger swaths of grass with a few hardy trees here and there, and from her seat in the saddle, she squinted into the distance. Somewhere out there was the border.

Two tan towers rose up from the sand about a half mile apart, and several guard stations sprinkled the distance between the two. They could see her by now, or at least the trail of dust she was kicking up. Her hand shadowed her eyes from the sun’s brightness.

There was no need to spur Midnight into a faster pace as he kicked up his step with a small hop. I wonder if he can smell the food and rest from here. The wry grin cracked her chapped lips, and she rubbed them beneath her hood. She laughed in spite of it, if for no reason but to hear a sound other than the hiss of sand.

Her humor was short-lived as she eyed the border, drawing closer with each of Midnight’s steps. Before, traveling alone bothered her little. She always had known she’d travel home. But now—now she was never going home.

Adelei’s stomach rolled, and her hands clenched the reins. Midnight slowed and bounced in place a moment or two before neighing his concern. She inhaled as deeply as she dared in the sandy air and forced her muscles to relax.

She could turn back, leave now and just travel… somewhere. Anywhere. She’d be an outcast, but at least she wouldn’t be crossing into enemy territory, into a death trap. At least she’d be alive.

Midnight sensed her hesitation and turned, which Adelei corrected with a tightened thigh. No, I’m stronger than this. King Leon may be the man who sold me over land rights, but he’s not my father. My father is Amaskan.

And he betrayed me, too.

She spurred Midnight forward at a gallop, the ground sturdy enough for the increased speed. Another hour of ignoring her introspective worry, and the border loomed before her. A stone wall ran along both sides of the towers as far as she could see, with well-armed guards at each gate. Simple math had her impressed as she counted the troops along the walls.

They looked ready for war.

It wasn’t every kingdom that could afford that many garrisoned outside the tower itself, let alone however many were inside the walls. At least not the countries she was used to visiting. It was what made slipping in and out so easy for the Order.

Except for Alexander. As long as she’d been alive, that kingdom had been off limits. Outlawed even. Maybe the Order reminded dear King Leon of some sin or other