Chapter 2 — A Very Bad Idea
By the second morning of her confinement, Princess Amara had reached an important conclusion.
Seven days was an unreasonable amount of time.
By the third morning, she had reached another.
Rules created by unreasonable people did not necessarily deserve obedience.
Lela discovered this philosophy when she entered Amara's bedroom shortly after breakfast and found her cousin dressed in plain riding clothes instead of the silk gown prepared by her attendants.
“No,” Lela said immediately.
Amara continued fastening her boots. “I haven't asked you anything.”
“You don't need to. I recognize that expression.”
“What expression?”
“The one you had before we climbed onto the palace roof during your brother's engagement celebration.”
“That was an excellent evening.”
“The musicians stopped playing because they thought you were going to fall.”
“I didn't.”
“You dropped a shoe onto an ambassador.”
“He returned it.”
Lela folded her arms. “Where are we going?”
Amara smiled.
That was why she loved her cousin.
“Not Cape Sira.”
“Good.”
“Near Cape Sira.”
Lela's face fell.
“Absolutely not.”
“I promised I wouldn't go to the cape.”
“You know perfectly well what I meant.”
“Then you should have been more precise.”
Amara's plan, she explained, was perfectly innocent. A small coastal village called Namba lay several miles north of Cape Sira. They would ride there, have lunch at an inn overlooking the sea, speak with some fishermen about the mysterious ship, and return before anyone realized they were missing.
Lela listened with increasing disbelief.
“That is your definition of innocent?”
“We are going to eat lunch.”
“While investigating armed strangers.”
“We are not investigating them.”
“What are we doing?”
“Gathering information.”
“That is investigating.”
Amara considered this and shrugged.
“Only a little.”
Escaping the palace itself was impossible now. Captain Jabari had doubled the guards near every gate, and Amara suspected her father had personally warned them that possession of a royal seal was no longer proof of anything.
Fortunately, the protected royal grounds extended far beyond the palace walls.
The family maintained orchards, hunting fields, stables, gardens, and several country residences. A narrow service road connected the outer estates with nearby farms.
Amara knew every road.
Jabari knew she knew every road.
What he did not know was that an old section of the western wall had been damaged during the rainy season and temporarily replaced with a wooden barrier.
Twenty minutes later, Amara and Lela were on the other side of it.
Their horses had been waiting at a small farm belonging to one of Queen Nalia's former servants. Amara had arranged that detail the previous evening.
Lela stared at the two saddled horses.
“You planned this yesterday?”
“Of course.”
“And you didn't tell me?”
“You would have spent all night worrying.”
“I am going to spend all day worrying instead.”
“Yes, but you'll be awake.”
They mounted and headed south.
For the first hour, everything was exactly as Amara had promised.
The road was peaceful. Farmers worked in the fields, children played near village wells, and merchants passed with carts loaded with fruit, cloth, pottery, and grain.
The closer they came to the sea, the stronger the salt air became.
Amara's mood improved with every mile.
“This was a good idea,” she announced.
Lela looked at her. “Whenever you say that, something terrible happens.”
“Superstition.”
“Experience.”
By midday they reached Namba.
It was a cheerful fishing village built around a curved harbor where brightly painted boats rocked against wooden docks. Nets dried beneath the sun. Women sold fish, fruit, bread, and vegetables in the small market. Children ran barefoot between the houses.
Nobody expected a princess.
That was precisely why Amara liked places like this.
She and Lela left their horses behind the inn and found a table beneath a shaded terrace overlooking the water.
For a while, their adventure really was innocent.
They ate grilled fish, warm bread, fruit, and honey cakes. Amara listened to fishermen arguing about weather and catches while Lela enjoyed the rare pleasure of seeing her cousin remain quiet.
Eventually an elderly fisherman joined a nearby table.
Amara recognized him as one of the men who occasionally supplied the palace kitchens.
She waited until he finished eating before approaching.
“Uncle Musa.”
The old man looked up.
His eyes widened.
“Princess?”
Amara quickly touched a finger to her lips.
He lowered his voice. “Your Highness, what are you doing here?”
“Having lunch.”
He looked toward Lela.
Lela shook her head. “Don't ask.”
Amara sat opposite him.
“You saw the foreign ship.”
Musa's friendly expression disappeared.
“Who told you?”
“My father.”
“And he allowed you to come here?”
Amara smiled.
Musa understood immediately.
“Oh, Princess.”
“What did you see?”
The fisherman glanced toward the harbor before answering.
The ship had appeared near sunset two days earlier. It remained farther offshore than ordinary trading vessels. No recognized colors flew from its mast.
Later, Musa and his sons saw two smaller boats moving toward a secluded beach south of the village.
“There were perhaps twelve men,” he said. “Maybe more.”
“Local?”
“No.”
“European?”
“Some.”
Amara frowned. “Some?”
“I saw two white men clearly. Others were difficult to see. They carried weapons.”
“What kind?”
“Pistols. Long guns. Knives.”
Lela leaned closer. “What were they doing?”
“Watching.”
Amara did not like the answer.
“Watching what?”
“The roads. Fishing boats. People working near the coast.”
“Did they take anything?”
“Not that I saw.”
“Did they speak to anyone?”
Musa hesitated.
“One shepherd boy.”
Amara's eyes narrowed. “What did they ask?”
“How many soldiers were nearby. How often patrols came through. Which roads led inland.”
The pleasant afternoon suddenly felt colder.
These were not lost sailors.
They were studying the coast.
Musa leaned forward. “Go home, Princess. Your father has already sent soldiers. Let them handle it.”
For once, Amara did not argue.
“You're right.”
Lela stared at her in surprise.
Amara stood.
“We're leaving.”
They paid for the meal, thanked Musa, and returned to their horses.
For the first time since escaping, Amara regretted coming.
They had learned enough.
Perhaps too much.
The safest route home followed the main road north, but Amara knew that Captain Jabari would already be searching there.
Instead, she chose an inland path through wooded hills.
Lela objected.
“The main road is safer.”
“The main road also contains my father's soldiers.”
“At this particular moment, that sounds wonderful.”
“If Jabari finds us, I will never be allowed outside again.”
“If armed strangers find us, being grounded will become irrelevant.”
Amara almost laughed.
Almost.
Then she heard horses.
Not behind them.
Ahead.
She raised one hand.
Both women stopped.
The narrow path curved between thick trees. Somewhere beyond the bend came low male voices.
Amara listened.
The language was foreign.
One voice spoke English.
Amara understood English very well.
“...road north?”
Another man answered, but too quietly for her to hear.
Lela's face had gone pale.
Amara motioned silently toward the trees.
They guided their horses off the path and into the vegetation, stopping behind a dense wall of leaves.
Seconds later, three men rode around the bend.
Amara saw them through the branches.
Two were white. The third was a dark-skinned man she did not recognize from any local village.
All three were armed.
One carried a pistol at his belt. Another had a long gun secured behind his saddle.
Their clothing was dusty and practical, nothing like the dress of wealthy merchants.
The tallest man stopped.
Amara held her breath.
He looked toward the trees.
For one terrible moment she thought he had seen them.
Then another rider said something.
The tall man turned.
In English, he asked, “How far to the larger road?”
“Less than two miles.”
“And the palace?”
“A day's ride if the roads are clear.”
Amara felt Lela's fingers close around her wrist.
The men continued.
They were not merely wandering.
They were asking about the palace.
Amara waited until the hoofbeats faded.
“We go back now,” Lela whispered.
Amara nodded.
No argument.
They emerged from the trees and turned their horses north.
They had ridden perhaps half a mile when a shout came from behind them.
Amara looked back.
The three riders had returned to the path.
One pointed directly at them.
“Ride!” Amara shouted.
Sanaa leapt forward.
Lela followed.
The quiet afternoon exploded into pounding hooves.
Branches whipped past Amara's shoulders as the narrow trail descended between the hills. She could hear the men behind them.
They were gaining.
Lela's horse stumbled on loose stones but recovered.
“Amara!”
“Keep going!”
Ahead, the path divided.
Amara knew the left route returned toward the main road.
The right descended toward a shallow river.
She chose the river.
Behind them came another shout.
Then a gunshot.
The sound cracked through the trees.
Lela screamed.
Neither woman was hit.
“Don't stop!”
They reached the river at speed.
The water was wider than Amara remembered.
For a fraction of a second she hesitated.
Then she drove Sanaa forward.
The mare plunged into the current.
Water rose around Amara's legs.
Lela entered beside her.
The horses struggled across.
The riders appeared on the bank behind them.
One raised his pistol.
Another grabbed his arm.
“Not here!”
Amara heard the words clearly.
Why not here?
She had no time to wonder.
Sanaa found firm ground and climbed onto the opposite bank.
Lela followed.
The path ahead rose sharply through trees.
They rode until the sounds behind them disappeared.
Only then did Amara slow.
Lela was breathing hard.
“So,” she said, “innocent lunch?”
Amara looked at her cousin.
“This may have become slightly more complicated.”
“Slightly?”
“They fired at us.”
“Yes. I noticed.”
Amara looked back toward the river.
Something had changed.
Until that afternoon, the mysterious ship had been an interesting problem discussed inside her father's council chamber.
Now it was real.
Armed strangers were moving through the kingdom.
They were studying roads.
They were asking about the palace.
And they had seen Amara and Lela.
“We have to tell Father,” Amara said.
Lela blinked. “You are voluntarily going to confess?”
“Yes.”
“Who are you, and what have you done with my cousin?”
Amara ignored her.
They headed north as quickly as their tired horses allowed.
Near sunset, they reached the main road.
This time Amara was relieved to see royal soldiers.
Captain Jabari was among them.
He rode toward her with an expression she had never seen before.
Not anger.
Fear.
He stopped beside Sanaa and looked Amara over from head to toe.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Lela?”
“No.”
Only after confirming that both women were safe did the fear disappear from his face.
Then came the anger.
Amara decided fear had been preferable.
“Captain,” she began, “before you say anything—”
“Do not speak.”
“That seems—”
“Not. One. Word.”
Amara obeyed.
For almost ten seconds.
“There were armed men near the river.”
Jabari's expression changed instantly.
“How many?”
“Three that we saw. They were asking about the palace.”
The anger disappeared again.
“Did they see you?”
Amara hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Did they follow you?”
“Yes.”
Jabari looked at Lela.
Lela added quietly, “They fired at us.”
The captain became very still.
Within moments he was issuing orders. Riders were sent south. Two guards surrounded each woman. Another galloped ahead toward the palace.
Amara suddenly understood the seriousness of what she had done.
This was no longer a game between a stubborn princess and exhausted guards.
Someone dangerous was operating inside her father's kingdom.
And now those men knew there were two young women riding without protection near the coast.
As darkness approached, the royal party hurried toward the palace.
Far behind them, beside the river, the three strangers had rejoined several other men.
Their leader listened to the account of the chase.
“Two women?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Rich?”
“One had an excellent horse. Both wore jewelry.”
The leader looked toward the northern road.
“From the palace?”
“Maybe.”
He smiled.
It was not a pleasant smile.
“What did they look like?”
The rider described them.
When he described Amara, the leader's interest sharpened.
He had come to this coast searching for opportunities.
Until that afternoon, he had found nothing worth the risk.
Now, perhaps, he had.