Chapter 8
The ride through the desert was stifling.
Ciana had grown up in the lands bordering Kreah. It had been hot there, too, living on the cusp of the desert where the lush forests and open plains of Onita transitioned into sand and rock.
Those arid lands were nothing compared to this.
The dunes stretched on for miles in all directions, marred only by the soft rise of mountains in the far distance or the occasional outcropping of trees. There was water here, but it was buried deep beneath the sands, sustaining only the tall vegetation with roots reaching far enough to find it.
Thankfully, their saddlebags were well-stocked, and Ciana had no shortage of water to combat the sweat pouring from her skin under the burning sun. Gods, she would need a bath before this day was over.
She understood why Mariah had asked her to do this. What she didn’t understand was why Priam—the god who was quite literally responsible for this whole mess—couldn’t be bothered to finish escorting these people to Desva. After all, he had rallied and led them here.
Of course, the prick had to abandon them for the comforts of the city at the first opportunity. Gods.
Ciana was so lost in her frustrated musings, she almost missed the larger copse of trees rising from the sands.
An oasis. The first of many they would find along their journey and their resting location for this evening. She nearly sobbed with relief. Even now she could see a few Kreah soldiers milling about, unloading provisions from carts and pallets.
“Oh, thank the gods. I’m not sure we could’ve gone much farther.”
Ciana twisted to her companion riding beside her on a dappled gray gelding. He was a young man, perhaps only a few years her elder, dark blond hair cut short and skin tanned from time in the sun. He’d been riding a bit ahead of the caravan, scouting the path.
Even though he was a stranger, Ciana had preferred to spend the day riding beside him—still within sight of the group—than be stuck with Sebastian, simmering in her frustration.
She gave the man, who’d introduced himself as Theo, a small smile.
“I agree. I’m certainly ready to get out of this saddle.
” They’d taken a few breaks to allow the horses a chance to rest, drink water, and eat forage, but none longer than thirty minutes.
Ciana was sore and aching in the way only a day of riding could cause.
And they still had two more days to go.
Theo scratched the back of his head. “Are the days always this hot in the desert?”
Ciana glanced away. “I’ve only been here for about a week,” she said. “But from what I’ve seen, yes.”
Theo grumbled. “At least the hunters have been fruitful. There’s a group returning now.”
Sure enough, five riders trotted toward them across the sands, the same group that had left a few hours ago. Various spoils of their successful hunt were slung across their saddles: desert hares and two larger animals that resembled deer but with leaner limbs and shorter antlers.
A strange sense of pride filled Ciana at the returning hunters. Even though they would be relying on the people of Kreah for so much, at least they still could contribute. Her people were not as helpless as they might appear.
“I don’t know about you, Theo,” Ciana said. “But I’m ready for a bath and a freshly cooked meal.”
“I’m certain my wife is feeling the same as you.” Theo smiled. They were close to the oasis now; the Kreah soldiers had stopped their unloading, facing the approaching caravan with rigid postures.
Ciana gave a soft laugh. “Go check on her.” She nodded toward the caravan. “I’ll be fine. I need to greet our hosts and make sure everything is settled for the night. Go tell the others that the hunters are returning.”
Indecision warred briefly on Theo’s kind face, but he relented with a nod. “Lady Ciana,” he said warmly as a farewell.
She gave him another encouraging smile, and he wheeled his gelding about, starting off at a trot back to the main caravan. Ciana pressed her heels into her mare’s flank, loping the short distance across the sands.
A tall, dark-skinned soldier stepped forward at her approach, hair cropped short to his skull. He wore fitted padded armor on his chest, but his pants were loose and flowing, offering both freedom of movement and coolness to combat the desert heat.
“Are you Lady Ciana?” His voice was deep and gruff but kind enough.
Ciana nodded, pulling her mare to a halt. “I am.” Clenching her teeth, she swung her sore legs over the saddle, landing with a wince in the packed sands.
The soldier gave a sharp nod. “Very well. I will show you to your accommodations for the evening. Your people will be instructed to make camp around the oasis; there are bathing pools within the trees and places suitable for a fire.”
“Thank you.”
The hard beat of hoofs on the sand rang out behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Ciana’s jaw clenched as Sebastian slowed his horse and came to a halt beside her, sliding effortlessly from his saddle as if the day of travel had hardly affected him.
It probably hadn’t. She knew how the Armature trained; this was like a day off for him.
He started toward her, frustrated concern flashing in his eyes. “Ciana—”
She whirled back to the soldier. “Please, lead the way, sir.”
If the soldier was annoyed by the delay, he hid it well. With another nod, he strode into the oasis. Still refusing to acknowledge Sebastian, Ciana gripped her mare’s reins and followed.
The oasis was larger than it looked from the dunes, formed of a large ring of trees encircling a haven of pools hidden in their center. They skirted the tree line before following a path into their midst, the shade cast from their branches a welcomed reprieve from the sun.
“We pitched your tent just up here, outside the main pools where most of your people will make camp.”
Tent? Singular? Surely, he didn’t mean that literally, did he?
“Thank you, sir—” She halted abruptly as they rounded the bend in the trail.
Pitched just beyond an open area sparsely spotted with trees was a small solitary tent. Hardly tall enough for a grown man, and not much wider.
Could this day get any worse?
Ciana turned to the soldier with wide eyes. “Is there…is there another?”
The soldier narrowed his gaze, any patience he’d had before falling away. “We were told to pitch a tent for the members of the Onitan Queen’s court traveling with the caravan. Not to pitch two. There are no other accommodations.”
“It’s fine. Thank you.” Sebastian stepped forward, and Ciana’s spine went rigid. “We appreciate the hospitality.”
The soldier gave a low sound of acknowledgement. Without further word, he turned and marched away.
Leaving them standing outside the painfully, ridiculously small tent. A tent they were expected to share.
Ciana shoved her mare’s reins into Sebastian’s chest. She didn’t bother giving him a look as she unslung her small pack of provisions from the saddle, storming into the tent.
He could care for the horses. It was the least he could do.
The tent was even smaller than it looked from the outside.
Ciana was not a very big person; far from it, actually. But even her petite frame felt cramped within the narrow canvas walls.
She scowled as she set her satchel down on the packed earth. There were, at least, two bedrolls, two small pillows, and several soft blankets. They’d have to share the space, but thankfully not everything.
Rolling her shoulders, trying to shake loose some of the tension that had wormed its way deep beneath her skin, Ciana set to work digging through her small bag.
It had come attached to the mare, and she’d been curious about its contents all day.
She pulled out two clean tunics and a pair of rolled leather breeches, the former made from the soft, breathable cotton that was favored here in Kreah.
The breeches, while a little thicker than Ciana would’ve liked, were lined and padded to make the long days in the saddle more comfortable.
She released a tentative, relieved sigh. Thank the goddess; truly all she wanted was to bathe and change from her sweaty clothes.
The entry flap fluttered behind her, early evening sunlight spilling in around a large shadow looming in the entrance.
The air between Ciana and Sebastian prickled with tension.
She still struggled to understand why his words from earlier that day annoyed and upset her so much.
Perhaps it was because she thought she’d finally found someone who trusted she could make her own decisions while also standing by her side in firm support.
What a joke. Maybe that’s all she’d ever been to Sebastian: something delicate and broken to save and protect. Nothing more. Not a strong woman in her own right.
Ciana ground her teeth before snatching up the clean clothes, along with a bar of soap that had been tucked into a pocket of the bag. She stood and whirled to find Sebastian hunched awkwardly below the tent entryway, his mouth parted as if he wanted to speak but struggled to find the words.
She had no interest in listening. Not right now. Not yet.
“I’m going to go bathe before it gets too crowded. And then I’m going to make sure everyone is settling in well.”
Sebastian closed his mouth, stepping back from the entry flap but holding it open. He still looked like he was about to say something as she brushed past him, but she again beat him to it.
“I need some time. More time. Don’t wait up.”
He nodded. His eyes followed her as Ciana stomped through the thin underbrush, heading toward the center of the oasis.
She didn’t know for certain that the bathing pool would be there, not beyond the vague directions she’d received from the Kreah soldier. But she kept marching anyway, stubbornness and a desire to put a little distance between herself and Sebastian fueling her pace.
Horses whinnied, and wagons creaked through the trees. The Onitan’s were arriving, then, and starting to settle into their camps. She skirted around them as family units claimed patches of cleared earth for the evening, exchanging soft words of relief that they were finally out of the sun.
Soon enough, the larger open space in the center of the oasis appeared through the trees along with a great firepit in the center. The hunters were already there, depositing their kills, sharpening their knives as they prepared to skin and clean so the rest of them could eat.
And there, just past the clearing, a tall fence, a bit out of place amongst the trees. A privacy construction for travelers who might be sharing this refuge on the road.
The bathing pools. It had to be. Ciana’s footsteps quickened until she reached the wooden gate, pushing up the latch and shoving open the heavy barrier.
The pool was large, its crystal blue water sparkling in the dying sunlight.
Even within, there were smaller walls built into the pool, sectioning it off into about a dozen stalls to afford everyone who wished to bathe a moment of privacy.
Ciana slipped into the nearest one, shimmying out of her soiled clothes, and sinking thankfully into the sun-warmed water.
A soft current brushed her legs, telling her that this water was far from stagnant; whatever source kept it fed also recycled the water, pulling it back beneath the earth.
Ciana piled her thick curls atop her head—she wanted to bathe, not leave here looking like a drowned rat—before setting to work, scrubbing her skin with the mild, sweet-smelling soap. The sweat and sands from the day sluiced off her, leaving behind the sweet relief of cleanliness.
Feeling exponentially better, Ciana climbed out of the pool, toweling herself off and dressing quickly in soft leggings and a tunic.
There were a few splashes from the stalls beside her; she was no longer alone.
In fact, when she opened the door, she found that a short line had formed, people with weary expressions who looked as ready for a bath as she had been.
Giving them a sheepish smile, she slipped past, the rising scent of roasting meat pulling her back toward the open space in the center of the oasis.
The Onitans had spread throughout the clearing, and a great fire had been built.
Someone had hoisted a massive pot beside the flames, and a middle-aged woman deposited a large tray of sliced roots and herbs into the rolling water.
A second woman followed her, carrying pounds of butchered meat, adding it to the stew.
Ciana smiled. A smart way to feed so many people; despite the warmth of the day, there was nothing like a hot meal to aid weary travelers.
It pleased her, but she couldn’t help but feel surprised at the communal way these people went about tending to the camp.
Onitans were not usually like this, preferring to see to their family’s needs and no one else, but something about this journey had brought this population together. Forming one large family amongst many.
“My Lady?”
Ciana turned. The first woman who’d tended to the stew watched her with a question in her eyes. The woman wiped her hands on a ragged towel. “Would you like to share a meal with us?”
Ciana’s smile widened. “I don’t wish to be a burden.”
“Nonsense.” The woman waved her off. “There will be plenty; the hunters did well. We would be honored to have a Lady of the Queen’s court join us.”
Warmth bloomed through Ciana’s chest. “Thank you. I think I will, then.”