“I crossed the ocean, I saw greener grass, I saw the white of snow. After eight years, I saw all that those lands had to offer and was disappointed. I returned to the endless sand of the Everlasting Desert. I’ve spent most of my life here and I’m still surprised by its magic, its wonders. One lifetime is not enough.” - Atlasi, Sultan of the Everlasting Desert

  ~*~

  The sandstorm enveloped the city of Red Rock, much like a snake’s jaw enveloping a rodent. Its people hid, huddled, curled, and shuddered as the harsh sand whipped through the streets, lashing at the unprotected. Luckily, it left as quickly as it arrived, revealing a new desert. The people left their shelters to shake the sand from their robes and hair, as this was a minor inconvenience that transpired a few times a year, rarely longer than half an hour.

  Doors and stores reopened, stalls were dusted and restocked, street sweepers sighed and returned to their refreshed trade. Despite everyone's eagerness to return to normal, it was the Red Guard that was first out, making rounds and ensuring the peace. Even the Red Guard who faced the sandstorm at the city's edge double-checked all around before resuming their watch.

  Yet, a camel did slip past them, carrying two unrecorded visitors.

  Athia and Bayek rode down the city street, sand falling from them in bunches, hitting the path with soft thumps. The street sweepers made quick work of the sand ahead of them, so could only scowl as the two strangers spoiled their efforts. With a huff, an old sweeper followed them, sweeping sand furiously while he stared daggers at the back of their heads.

  “Fortune favors us, Athia,” Bayek murmured, eyeing the Red Guard, despite their lack of interest in him. “We seem to have made it into the city without suspicion. And besides the sweepers, no eyes are on us.”

  “It will stay that way as long as your sword remains hidden,” Athia replied. The sword was nestled in the folds of the saddle. “The guards fear a threat, so don’t look threatening. A sword marks you in a city like Red Rock. It may not be illegal, but it gets attention.”

  “It should not be. Everyone I see carries a blade.”

  Bayek was right. As casual as they seemed, most of everyone had a blade hanging from their hip, from the old to the young. Nobody hid their short blades like Athia hid hers in her sash. Some even wore them ostentatiously, in fancy sheaths across the center of their sash.

  “Knives and daggers, blades used to cut rope, peel fruit, or clean their nails,” Athia smiled, but Bayek grimaced at the thought. “No, these are status symbols for the wealthy or tools of workers, merchants, and bored children; not weapons. You will notice only the guards carry swords.”

  The Red Guard looked fearsome when you saw only their blades, their blood-red robes, and the black sashes around their middle. Yet, their faces were like everyone else's. Some were cleanly shaven, others with wispy beards. Their smiles weren’t different either. Yet, Bayek saw something in their eyes, how alert they were. These were dangerous men, quick to action. He expected nothing less of the Sultan’s royal guard.

  As for the people, there were many to navigate around. The main street leading to the palace was crowded, people in colorful robes flocking in and out of pale buildings, talking happily, laden with fanciful things.

  “A market?” Bayek wondered.

  “Hmm, a noble market,” Athia observed. She noted his fish-out-of-water attitude - he definitely wasn’t from the Everlasting Desert. Athia continued. “There are no stalls, only buildings holding goods more valuable than the average person can afford. They make good pickings for a thief, which is why there are so many guards keeping watch.”

  “Incredible,” Bayek thought. “There are so many noble men and women...I’ve never seen such a haven of luxury.”

  The street was long and the buildings many, but the bulk of the buildings were beyond the ones that lined the main road. Athia knew that most people would live on the side with the oasis to the left, while the poorer district would be on the right, farthest from the water.

  Every building was made of simple limestone, the common stone of the desert. Perfect for the large city. Yet, the buildings themselves did have an air of refinement and each stood straight, some surprisingly tall. Each one was built by experienced hands, lining the central road almost perfectly.

  Some buildings did go a step further, with pigment pasted along the sides in simple, earthy colors; typically an orange-red pigment to match the red mountain. These pigmented buildings were not the only ones to show the occupants' personalities. Others, who could not afford such pigments, made do with simple carpentry, creating frames around their doors and windows, breaking up the flat limestone where they could.

  Athia admired the stunning difference between Red Rock and the other oases that she visited. It was as if every person silently agreed that Red Rock was a place of growth and progress. It would be the place that other towns and cities strived to become

  And the people thrived. Even the impoverished, who wore the simplest robes, did not have the shallow cheeks of the hungry. Everyone had an opportunity to make a life for themselves and none of them lacked the courage to seize opportunity when it presented itself.

  Bayek was in awe. The longer Athia was around him, the more she saw beyond the fierce appearance.

  “You have not seen many cities, have you, Bayek?” Athia asked.

  Bayek remained silent, guiding the lazy camel away from the main street and into more narrow streets, where there wouldn’t be so many people. The two could see the palace better from the main street, but guards could see them better as well. Besides, Bayek couldn’t help but move towards the smells that captured his attention.

  Athia could hear the rumble of his stomach over the chattering of the people.

  “Those smells, rich and flavourful, can only be spiced rice,” Bayek said in barely a whisper, causing Athia to look at him strangely. Athia wondered if he was avoiding the question.

  Bayek’s stomach growled louder and Athia could even feel the flutter of his heart through his robes, suddenly realizing she was still holding on to him. After Athia released her hold on Bayek, she could hear a few more words among the ravenous mumbling that escaped his lips.

  “And meat, well-sauced and plentiful,” Bayek began to sniff at the air deeply, and with a heavy, throaty sigh, he climbed down from his camel.

  Athia climbed off with him, struggling a little on her way down. She tied the camel to the nearest post, while Bayek marched through the narrow alleys in search of the food he smelled. Athia struggled to keep up with him, fighting a current of adults, but he always remained in sight. It wasn’t long before the two left the narrow alleys and entered a large open area.

  Market stalls in jagged rows were scattered in every direction. The number of people caused Athia to hesitate before she joined the mass. She knew the city was large, but it only dawned on her how large when she saw the busiest side of Red Rock. It was a trading hub with deals from the luxurious to the mundane to the unsavory.

  Even with Athia’s limited height among the adults, or perhaps because of her height, she could see quick, careful hands exchanging strange pouches, shifty eyes, and shady types blending among the many merchants who were trying to sell their decorative colorful spices, their desirable jewelry, their foods, their drinks, their clothes and their-

  “Pillows,” Athia whispered.

  Athia recognized the rounded belly quickly and approached the stand where Sellah and his family were setting up. While Seeoh helped line, hang, and sort pillows, Sellah sold them with a salesman’s patter that caught the attention of all who passed too near.

  “The softest of sands could not compare, sir!” Sellah told one cheerily, practically singing. “But don’t take my word for it! I am a man of ample size, and my comfortable seating is guaranteed. Come, sit, and tell me what you think!”

  Skillfully, Sellah guided the prospective buyer to sit on a cushion. From where she stood, Athia could see all the tactics he employed to make a sale. The praise, the subtle way he steered them, the promise of luxury at great prices. Sellah was a savvy savior of savings, guiding them towards a soft, supportive seating salvation.

  “It’s like I’m floating,” the genuinely surprised customer said.

  “Floating!” Sellah repeated louder for all to heart. “A pillow to make one feel as if they were floating on a cloud, few things in life are better!”

  Sellah’s grand statements and gestures gathered a crowd, then he sealed his future deals.

  “For you, friend, the cloud is free,” Sellah told the customer, then looked at all around him. “And for all of you, a cloud of your own for only two silver!”

  The people lurched forward suddenly. It was scary how well Sellah worked the crowd, as many walked away with two or more pillows. Two silver was a reasonable price, but Sellah made it seem like a steal. Athia almost got too close to Sellah's stand, but caught herself.

  “Don’t attach yourself so easily,” Athia thought to herself.

  Athia gave the family one last look. Kopir and Taks were nowhere in sight, no doubt exploring the city. One look at Seeoh told you that she and Sellah would have a third child very soon. Most families had two children at the most, as the desert was a harsh place to live. It was a struggle to look after even one child.

  “Yet, Seeoh is protective and Sellah an adept merchant,” Athia thought. “At least their children will live well. Now…I must find Bayek.”

  Luckily, Athia did not have to go far. Passing by several food stands, she found the largest and cheapest at one end of the market district. Fabrics were laid over stands creating a canopy over several benches and tables. Sitting at one of these tables was Bayek, holding a bowl of food with his left, keeping it stable as he ate with his right hand. He plucked meat and rice between his fingers and ate them greedily.

  Many watched as the nomad messily finished one meal and started the next. The cook at the pot and fire smiled happily as he plated meal after meal. Perhaps it was the joy of seeing a satisfied customer, or the amount of money he was making off of Bayek that made him smile - it didn’t matter.

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  Athia had felt the pangs of hunger before, but nowhere near the hunger that seemed to consume Bayek.

  “Athia, eat,” Bayek said firmly, as if trying to maintain a fearsome demeanor, but spoiled it with his full cheeks. “I have yet to see you eat a thing.”

  “My stomach rarely reminds me to,” Athia replied, sitting in front of the plate Bayek pushed towards her.

  The steam hit Athia first, then the spices. A lungful was enough to make her mouth water. There were the usual meats perched atop rice, yellow with orange spices. It was good food, plain and simple. With a deep drink of water from her waterskin, she joined Bayek in eating.

  Athia listened to the people around her while she pecked at the food. Not an argument could be heard. There was an overwhelming sense of peace and calm. The sky was bluer in Red Rock and everyone knew it.

  “The Sultan has done well,” Athia thought.

  While she ate, Bayek studied Athia.

  “I’ve not seen hair so white on someone so young,” Bayek said after swallowing a lump of food.

  Suddenly reminded of her prominent feature, Athia pulled her white hood over her head. Any glimpses now of her hair would be construed as being a part of her white robes unless someone looked closely. Bayek looked around, wondering why she was so worried.

  “I...everyone in my family had hair like mine,” Athia lied. “‘White as a cloud’ I often heard from the-”

  Bayek’s eyes widened, his skin brightened and he began to make an odd throaty noise. Athia was confused for only a moment until he started pounding at his chest. He quickly coughed up a bone, which bounced a short distance across the table before spinning to a stop next to Athia’s hand.

  “You...are a beast,” Athia murmured in disbelief, disgust, and other words fitting the distasteful moment. “Do you even chew?”

  Bayek took two deep breaths and after expelling the last lungful he continued to eat.

  “It’s been too long since I had any real food,” Bayek told her, speaking between mouthfuls. “I'm sure you are familiar with the feeling."

  "Everyone in the desert is," Athia retorted. Bayek nodded.

  "Still, you and I share a similar past. There was a time when I was young…stealing from those around me. It's a life I don't miss…but I'm not ashamed of it. My family ensured I learned from it…trained me to be a warrior worthy of respect."

  “If you had a family, then we grew up very different,” Athia murmured.

  “Not so. I never knew my family. I was a runt left behind to die, but luckily I was found and taken in by another tribe.”

  “Tribe?” Athia thought.

  Athia continued eating, quite happy to let Bayek talk. He rambled about the importance of fighting, and the need to confront challenges when they appear, no matter how daunting. He seemed to like talking about fighting and almost spoke poetically about how you can tell a man’s character from the way they fight, what they fight for and how they fall.

  "I see now in your eyes, your coldness, I know it well. I've helped you enter the city unnoticed, now you are deciding if I'm worth the trouble of helping."

  At this, Athia did look up from her food. Bayek said nothing. He just waited for her response as he wiped rice off his lip. There was no anger in his eyes, no suspicion, nothing. It seemed this topic was akin to discussing the weather with him.

  “And what are-” Athia began, then lowered her tone. “And what do you plan on doing in Red Rock?”

  Bayek continued to stare at her, chewing the last mouthful of food.

  “Let’s not speak of it here,” Bayek grunted, putting his bowl to the side. The cook looked in his direction, raising a large spoon of food. Bayek’s heart jumped, but his stomach did not, so he shook his head sadly, paying for the food instead. “Finish your food, Athia.”

  Athia didn’t like Bayek. He seemed brutish and unpredictable. What’s more, he was too experienced in dealing with liars and thieves. Yet, she finished her meal and considered losing Bayek in the crowd. If he knew that she might, he showed no effort to prevent her from trying. He was indifferent to being abandoned.

  It was enough to make Athia curious again, so she followed.

  Bayek led her through the market district, between alleys and across streets, each step taking them closer to the looming mountain and its palace. However, Bayek stopped short of the road that crossed in front of it and approached one of the tallest buildings.

  Bayek examined the building and the buildings around it, calculating a path. Leading Athia silently, they began their climb, starting with the smallest building and crossing gaps between them and taller buildings. Athia was not unused to such climbing, she was only surprised Bayek could manage it effortlessly, despite his height and brawn.

  At least, Athia wondered this for a moment. As they moved onto the tallest building, she could hear him breathing deeply and he decided to rest once at the top. Athia looked towards the palace and with Bayek, began to study all that was in sight.

  The palace was a stunning white against the red of the mountain. If one were to glance at it, one would say they are made from entirely different materials, different stones. Yet, from where they stood, they could see that the palace was only carved at the face and painted white to help separate it further from the rugged redness of the mountain. There was truth then to the palace being carved from the mountain, but it was just painted so well, that it almost appeared like the palace was always there and the mountain was slowly consuming it. There was no telling the number of rooms and passages that lie within.

  Even atop the building, the palace stood higher with its turrets and openings, and the mountain itself was several times higher still. It was foreboding and awe-inspiring. A daily reminder for the people that they were in the greatest city in the Everlasting Desert, living in a miracle.

  As for the entrance, the palace had a tall wall with large doors flanked by five guards on either side. Beyond the wall was a courtyard, tiled intricately. Tiles were difficult to make, especially sturdy painted ones that could be used as the floor of a courtyard. The garden surrounding the courtyard was lush, with bright red and blue flowers among the trees and vibrant bushes.

  Both Athia and Bayek wondered how many servants tended to the gardens there, but in reality, only one person looked after the garden. None other than Shadya, the Sultan’s wife. A beauty when she married the Sultan and a beauty still despite her age. Even if Athia and Bayek knew this, it would matter little. Both concluded that one could hide amongst the foliage if they could make it into the courtyard.

  There were three flights of stairs, one leading from the center edge of the courtyard towards the palace, and two leading diagonally towards the palace from the left and right corners of the courtyard. The entrances atop the stairs were protected by a pair of guards each.

  If one would stand in front of the gates, the wide central staircase perfectly led one's eyes up the palace, towards the arching windows, the pristine painted walls, the faces of turrets and towers, and their rounded caps. One would see the palace as the masterpiece it was and not as the fortress that Athia and Bayek considered it to be from where they stood.

  “We could scale the mountain,” Bayek said, interrupting Athia’s thoughts. “It’s steep from this side, but perhaps around the mountain we-”

  “It would take too long, meaning more time for us to get noticed. No, we will go through the front,” Athia interrupted just as suddenly. “Look at the courtyard, they are preparing for the festivities.”

  Athia pointed at the servants cleaning the courtyard, bringing in planks, tables, and benches.

  “It looks like they will set up a stage for the Sultan there, so he can address his people,” Athia continued. “During the party, the palace should have a skeleton crew as the streets will need additional patrols to ensure things don’t go overboard.”

  “How do you know there will be a celebration?”

  “Tomorrow is the sixteenth anniversary of his victory against the barbarian king, the Blood Crocodile. It is also his sixty-first birthday. Two major reasons to have a festival. Everyone is preparing. It’s no wonder the market is so colorful and the streets so clean.”

  “The Blood Crocodile?” the words played with Bayek’s lips, a smile slowly growing. “Such a silly title!”

  Athia looked at him as if he were a talking boar. First of all, Bayek did not seem to be familiar with the title and second, he found it amusing, instead of blood-curdling.

  “Do you not know of the barbarian king? Of the Sultan’s battle to stop their raiding?”

  Bayek shook his head.

  “His prayer to the gods that created the oasis?”

  Bayek could no longer maintain his smile. He looked at Athia as a naive child and she hated that.

  "You were a barbarian, weren't you?" Athia asked, her dangerous thoughts pouring out. It was too late to stop them - her emotions got the better of her. "You mean to kill the Sultan, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes. You have no idea what you're getting into."

  She had said it, the thought that had been building in her mind since she met Bayek. Athia wondered at that moment how foolish she was, to have accused a possible barbarian and to be alone with him…within striking distance. She was a mouse insulting a lion while she stood on its tongue.

  Bayek ignored her questioning and continued to study the palace. While the guards didn’t appear to be many, the structure of the palace and mountain made up for it. Still, as Athia said, it would be better to get in through the front and somehow sneak in through one of the three entrances.

  Bayek wasn't sure how, but he knew Athia had a plan already. A thief, yes, and a child, but he trusted in her skill so far. However, he knew he received no trust from her, the assumptions she made confirming as much. Bayek knew he needed to change that, so it was time to put her at ease by answering some of those questions and doubts.

  "No, I am not a barbarian, I never was," Bayek began. "You were right the first time. I was part of a nomadic clan which lived in the Lion’s Savannah, across the White Plains to the South."

  "Across White Plains? I've not known or heard of anyone from there or beyond."

  "Few dare travel across that part of the desert. The Sultan’s father led a campaign across the White Plains…the damage he and Atlasi did there scarred my people. Luckily, he saw no value in us nor our 'gods forsaken' land, taking little and few slaves with him on his return across the White Plains."

  "But Atlasi killed the mad-" Athia began, but stopped.

  The mad sultan was killed by Atlasi, the benevolent sultan had broken the chain. Yet, she could tell that didn’t matter to Bayek. Twenty years ago, Bayek, being twenty-five then, had seen Atlasi fight alongside his father. Although he hoped to kill the father as well, Bayek didn’t mind settling for the death of the son.

  "I was part of a warrior tribe…one almost destroyed by him, Atlasi, and their soldiers. As a warrior, I could not let him escape justice. This is why when I felt I was ready to cross the White Plains, I left to find him. He is a conqueror like any other, Athia. If he had left my people as he found them, I would not have spent half a year crossing that deathly part of the desert to find him."

  "I… "

  Athia wanted to fight him. There were so many things she disliked about her journey so far, but Bayek was becoming the worst. He was cold in his words, but like with Sellah, she could sense sincerity. That meant she had to allow a seed of doubt to spoil the image of the Sultan.

  Before he became the Everlasting Desert’s hero, he was an instrument of death for his father, however unwilling he was.

  "Perhaps that is a good thing, " Athia thought. "It might make what I have to do easier."

  "You do intend to kill the Sultan then…and if what you say about your people is true, I can understand why," Athia said. "But there are better ways to find your peace, Bayek. I don’t think this should be the first thing you try. He paid for his evil, he stopped his father…he is an old man."

  "He must die," Bayek said firmly, taking his eyes off the palace and looking at Athia. “It is him or me. Although, as a warrior, my death would be a lot more peaceful should I die fighting."

  Athia didn't know how to reply. He was not a visionary, he did not seek a better world from this encounter. He was just an angry man seeking personal justice. Had she known Bayek's intentions, she might have stayed on Sellah's cart, hidden beneath the pillows, leaving Bayek to figure out his revenge on his own. Yet, in some respects, Bayek's goal was not a stone's throw from Athia's.

  Bayek could see the hesitant thoughts behind Athia’s eyes and nodded.

  "I won't ask you to help me, Athia," Bayek told her. "But I must insist you tell nobody, or get in my way. It would be best if you had nothing to do with me from here on."

  Bayek had said his piece. Athia nodded and walked back the way they had come, stopping at the edge of the building before climbing down.

  "He will get himself killed," Athia thought.

  Something in Athia couldn’t let that happen to Bayek. His goal was murder…a murder that might be justified in the eyes of many. Yet, he trusted her enough to let her walk away with this information…to cut ties. Something she would do.

  “Don’t carry it alone,” Sellah’s words repeated in Athia’s head.

  “I don’t trust him that much,” Athia thought. “But…he trusts me.”

  Bayek was wondering how many guards he could fight when Athia appeared beside him once again. She looked at him and sighed with disappointment as if she read his hot-headed thoughts. She knew then that she would have to think for both of them.

  "We will enter the courtyard tomorrow night along with everyone else and I will help you into the palace," Athia told him. "Leave your sword behind, or you won't get in...if need be, you could probably find another inside the palace."

  Bayek's expression softened. He was somewhat grateful. As knowledgeable as Athia seemed, she was still a child in his eyes. A child putting her life at risk for him. He would try to keep her alive when they were inside.

  "I must now ask, what is it you seek in the palace?” Bayek asked.

  "Something far more valuable than revenge, Bayek.”