Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ganbold paced at his camp outside Samarkand.
The boy had said he would come as soon as he could get away.
Ganbold had waited two days for contact with the boy.
He started to think the boy had been lying to him.
Ganbold knew he was with the Frenchman inside the city.
He started thinking he should go into the city and just kill the Frenchman and the boy there.
Yet, the ancestors had told him to wait. He was still there pacing when he saw the boy come into view.
“Hallo,” the boy greeted.
Ganbold snapped out and punched him between the eyes.
“What was that for?” the boy asked, grabbing his face and stumbling back.
“I wait too long.”
“I couldn’t just walk out of camp,” Terence yelled. “He’s making me sleep in his yurt and everything.” He sniffed and wiped a streak of blood across his cheek. “I hate that guy.”
Ganbold laughed. It made him like the boy a little, even though he was French. “What is their plan?”
“They leave for Kashgar in the morning. They are taking the route through the southern pass.” The boy winced and stepped back. “He’s hired twenty guards.”
“Twenty,” Ganbold grunted.
“You aren’t angry?”
“You get the woman and man alone. Lead them to me.” He glared at the boy. “Twenty guards are your problem, not mine.”
The boy shuffled. “And of me? You’ll really let me take the coin?”
“I have no use for his riches. When I kill the Frenchman, you take what you want and return to your country. Tell them of the warrior who killed him to take a Mongolian woman back to her tribe.” He glared.
“But if you take a wrong step and defy me…” He held up both his fists, letting the fear fill up the boy’s face.
“You understand the pain I will cause you.”
The boy stepped back, eyes wide. He swallowed and nodded.
“I stay southeast of the party at all times,” Ganbold said. “Any chance you get, lead them to me.” Then he glared at the boy. “Don’t make me wait.” He tilted his head. “Go.”
The boy scampered off.
Ganbold felt happy in his arms and legs. He would have the woman soon.
Ganbold. Warrior. Hunter.
Michel still grinned when he exited the yurt a short while later.
That woman was ruining him in the best way possible.
All his thoughts hovered on her, her body, her lips.
He was proud of himself for not letting it get in the way of his business.
Michel was handling everything well, something else to feel smug about.
He adjusted the felt at the door of the yurt, the good feelings stirring inside him.
The men were mostly back, tending their own spaces. Michel nodded and acknowledged them as they came near. They would be departing for Kashgar in the morning, taking a route that would allow them to sleep in or near towns so they would not be exposed in the night.
Then something struck Michel, an arrow to his thoughts. He scanned the men, not finding who he was looking for.
Where was Terence?
Michel stomped to the center of camp. “Iman,” he called. The man turned to Michel. “Terence?” Michel asked, hands out with the question.
Iman swung his head around. “Um,” he said.
The others began looking as well.
Aben, a newer addition to the group, spoke up, “He was at the baths.” He looked around. “Wasn’t he?”
There was a moment of searching to see if he’d been asleep in a tent or was rifling through someone’s things. It wasn’t long, however, before Michel spotted him, across the way, shuffling back to the camp.
Michel stomped over to the boy and saw immediately that something had happened. Michel grabbed his chin to angle the boy’s face up to him. He saw bruises edging around his eye, along his cheekbone, on top of the old ones, and crusted blood in his nose. “What happened?” Michel demanded.
“I fell,” Terence retorted, his arms hanging limply at his sides.
Michel turned the boy’s head to examine the other side. “You fell?”
“I slipped and knocked my head at the baths.”
Michel just grunted at him. Now what with this kid, he thought. “Be more careful,” Michel insisted, releasing his chin. Terence jerked back with a glare.
Eve had come out then and approached them. She too took Terence’s chin, but with a gentler hand. “Come with me, Terence,” she said. “We’ll put some salve on the scrapes.”
Terence trudged away behind her, and Michel saw the heaviness in the boy. He didn’t know what Terence was up to, or who had given him the punch to the head that Terence claimed to be from a fall. Michel just hoped to get him back to the safety of his family without further incident.
Still, he knew that boy was only going to cause them trouble.
The next day, they were on the road again. It was midday, and they were coming up on a road cut alongside a hill that sloped down into a shallow ravine blanketed by thorny bushes.
“Eve,” Terence called to her from the horse. “Come with me to see those rocks.” He pointed up ahead of their path.
“Terence, if we leave the convoy now, Michel will have a heart attack,” she laughed. “Besides, no horse would go through that thistle.”
Terence groaned loudly and trotted up ahead.
Michel slowed his horse to wait for her as Terence rushed past. “Looks like I’m not the only one who makes him mad.”
“He is my little friend,” she said, still amused.
“It’s kind of you to care for him.” Michel raised his eyebrows. “He does not like me.”
“You’re mean to him,” she said. “But he deserves it. Iman’s right. He is a little shit.”
Terence had kept close to her since he had rejoined their party. She cared for him as a sister would. She had so many older brothers that it was enjoyable to feel the tug of attention from a younger brother for once. It was obvious Terence was lonely and needed someone to show him some warmth.
Truly, her mind and heart had only one focus at the moment.
Now that she realized the feelings she had for Michel, she didn’t know what it meant for her future.
She had wanted to go to France and perhaps find work as a nanny or a tutor, but her heart had tangled itself around Michel in a knot she couldn’t unravel.
What was she to do? Confess her feelings like a heartsick girl looking for a husband, hoping he felt the same?
He had promised to keep her safe, but then what?
She watched him, tall and proud in his saddle, feeling the heat in her belly just from being near, wanting his hands on her once more.
She had never been so vulnerable with a man.
She had told Michel her secrets. It was a great sensation of relief to have an ally after months of being on her own.
The only thing she kept to herself was the specifics of her family.
Michel didn’t need the added stress of knowing he was transporting the Khan’s daughter.
They rode further down a narrow passage among high boulders and rock. Up ahead, a fallen tree trunk blocked the road. Terence was urging his horse down the slope, but the horse whinnied and refused.
“What is he doing?” Michel grumbled. Then, louder, he called out, “Terence! Wait there.”
“We should go around,” Terence called back. “You, me, and Eve. We can check for a better route.” Then he jerked the reins of the horse, trying to control it.
“He’s going to fall,” Michel insisted, tensing. “Terence, stop!”
Just then, Terence yanked on the reins again. This time, the horse went up on its back legs, knocking Terence off, right into the bushes and down the slope.
Eve gasped, and Michel swore. “Christ,” Michel muttered as he sped up to get to the boy.
Eve caught up seconds later with the others coming up behind. Michel dismounted and stomped into the bushes. He reached in and pulled out a lump of Terence.
“Terence, you silly boy, what are you thinking?” Eve asked as she dismounted. She plucked thistles off his jacket
Terence coughed and groaned. “I thought we could find an easier route.” He grimaced as Eve plucked stickers from his hair. “That log is too heavy. We’ll never move it.”
Michel brushed his pants off and walked over to the log. With a big breath, he hefted it up and moved it enough to allow the passage of the horses. “Terence,” he said, shaking his head at the boy. “You make me truly hope that when I have children one day, they will all be girls.”