“It is curious that even the most lonely nomad wonders if a deity watches over them. I used to think they just needed someone to blame. I thought we were on our own spiritually, but at least we’re not alone physically. I could live with that...but, now…” - Bayek, Nomad

  ~*~

  Mirza marched up one hall, passing the balcony that gave a splendid view of the city. The lanterns and fires created such beauty, which was all lost on the anxious captain. He found one of the patrolling Red Guard, staring out at the city with longing. He recognized him immediately.

  “Karim, have you seen anything unusual?” Mirza asked, catching the young man by surprise.

  “N-No, sir,” Karim said quickly. The Captain of the Red Guard stood there, looking at him with eyes that sent a wave of fear through him. “A-a-all…all quiet.”

  Mirza studied the guard with an aggressive stare but had no time to vent his frustration. There was no evidence of something being wrong so far. He gestured for the boy to continue his patrol and marched onwards. Why should he feel angry that Karim’s patrol was uneventful? Why did Mirza feel he needed to make sure?

  Whatever the reason, Mirza knew it was a good idea to trust his gut and his pace quickened. The Sultan was not in his room, which meant he went to his favorite reading spot.

  Bayek heard the distant footsteps approaching, grabbed Athia’s arm, and pulled her into the shadows. He stood in front of her, masking her bright robes with his black ones. The two were nearly invisible as Mirza passed the hall they hid within. Athia listened to the footsteps until they finally faded into silence.

  Athia made to leave, but Bayek pushed her back behind him. He must have sensed she was about to say something because without looking he placed a hand over her mouth. She looked back at the hall through a gap between his robes and the wall, seeing nothing.

  Nothing, until Mirza appeared so suddenly, so silently.

  It was as if he emerged from the shadows. Athia could not understand how Bayek had heard his return. Bayek closed his eyes in case the smallest light within them caught the captain’s attention.

  Mirza lingered only a moment, before leaving with a defeated grunt. Bayek and Athia waited, this time longer. Even though Athia was no longer convinced by the silence, Bayek seemed satisfied and stepped from the shadows.

  “Who was he?” Bayek hissed.

  “My guess, the Sultan’s right hand, Mirza, the Captain of his Red Guard,” Athia answered. Athia heard the name whispered by people in Red Rock. The sheer presence that he commanded made it unmistakable who he was. “And a more dangerous man you would struggle to find. We cannot be caught, Bayek.”

  “Then let us leave quickly, he will find his Sultan soon. We cannot go the way we came.”

  Athia led Bayek down the way Mirza had come, passing in front of the balcony. Athia stopped to Bayek's surprise and approached one edge. Immediately, he saw her intentions. The mountain was more cracked and jagged at their height, making it easier to climb. Athia didn’t need help climbing from the balcony edge onto the mountain, Bayek needed only to try and keep up.

  Bayek placed his foot on a thin ledge, leaning himself against the mountain, finding cracks to dig his fingers into. Looking down, he saw the courtyard where everyone was gathered. If he lost balance, he had less than a second to catch himself.

  “This is nothing. My footing is sure and my fingers are like fish-hooks,” Bayek thought as he began to shimmy after Athia. “And Athia, you climb with such ease…what trials did you face to have grown up so quickly?”

  “We need to leave the city,” Athia told Bayek. “Many saw us enter the palace, none can vouch to seeing us-”

  Athia’s talk was cut by an almost inhuman wail. Both froze, listening to the scream travel throughout the palace, it was even heard over the music in the courtyard. Its sadness spread amongst the party-goers and the Sultan’s family. No one knew what it meant, except Athia and Bayek. The Red Guard rushed inside the palace, others to guard Shadya and her children.

  Athia, in her heart, could not help but feel a strange pain listening to that howl of grief. It could have only belonged to one man. She looked up at Bayek, but could not read much from the back of his head. When he turned his head to look at her, it was impassive.

  “Hurry,” was all he could say and the two continued along the mountain, slowly descending as they went.

  The rockface became steep, the edges narrower. The climb was much slower. As they went, they could see the Red Guard organizing the people in the palace courtyard. The people were placed in rows and told to remain seated. Mirza, an ominous figure now, marched down the stairs and began talking. Athia could not read his expression from such a distance.

  It was clear what was happening. The guests were the first suspects to be interrogated. At least, the interrogation was what Athia thought until Mirza drew his sword. She now understood his expression to be blind rage and he was about to take it out on those unfortunate enough to be in his way.

  Shadya shouted something at Mirza, it sounded like a question, to which Mirza gave no reply. His lips were moving as he spoke to the kneeling guests, Athia could not hear him and would have ignored this, had she not recognized one of the figures Mirza was brandishing a sword in front of.

  “Sellah,” Athia said in barely a whisper.

  Although all the people were the focus of Mirza’s anger, she felt Sellah was too close to the enraged right-hand man. She could tell his intentions from his body language and Bayek seemed to feel the same way.

  “He might kill them all,” Bayek grunted as he climbed down.

  “He wouldn’t,” Athia said, but hated that she did. She was in denial of what Mirza was capable of. Yet, she did not know the twisted emotions slowly corrupting the man’s mind. Shadya shouted something at Mirza again, taking a step towards him, but he held his hand up, stopping her from coming close. He was speaking to the people again.

  “It is only right that he should blame someone for what I did,” Bayek murmured, sidling onwards, forcing Athia to keep moving. “At least it will make our escape easier.”

  Athia looked down at how much they had left to go. A dune leaned against the mountain below them.

  “Is your camel close?” Athia asked him. Bayek looked up, barely hearing her. “I said, is your camel close?”

  “Not far.”

  “Good.”

  Athia leaned down and with two short stamps, Bayek fell, clutching his fingers. He forced himself not to cry out, instead focusing on the dune below. He rolled down the dune and was quickly up on his feet. He ran off towards the city, cursing the girl as he went. Athia then looked back at the courtyard. She fumbled around for a rock, but could not find any.

  Athia doubted she could throw that far anyway. Mirza’s sword hand was starting to shake.

  Instead, she unraveled the rope beneath her sash with one hand and began to swing the grappling hook. With the added momentum, the hook sailed over the palace walls. The clack and clatter of the metal hook was enough to get everyone's attention, especially Mirza who was ready to start his journey for justice through bloodshed.

  All looked towards the sound, seeing the silhouette of someone clinging to the mountain, waving in their direction, before dropping down the side of the mountain. Sellah thought he recognized the shape, but the moon was bright enough that he couldn’t be sure.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Mirza didn’t hesitate to follow. There was a fire in his eyes.

  ~*~

  Athia hit the dune badly. Surprised by the force, a pain ran through her right foot and she stumbled and rolled.

  A twisted ankle was the last thing Athia wanted, yet that is exactly what she got. As she climbed to her feet, she looked at the city and then all around for a sign of Bayek, but she was disappointed. She heard yells from the palace courtyard and then the whiny of horses. The Red Guard had opened the stables.

  “They won’t need horses to catch me like this,” Athia thought.

  Athia decided not to wait. She began limping down the wide street, her eyes scanning for a place to hide. All that she could find was a pile of rotting baskets. In her mind, it would have to do. If she was lucky, those around her would not notice as she hid herself amongst them.

  Athia heard the sound of galloping, heavy and growing louder. She wouldn't make it in time, and she lacked a dagger to fight back - not that she stood a chance.

  "Athia!"

  Bayek was atop his camel. He saw her limping and knew she couldn't jump to reach his outstretched hand. He let himself fall down the side of the saddle, digging his foot when he dropped low enough. Grabbing her hand, he hoisted her up as high as he could from his position. Athia did the rest, climbing into the saddle and pulling him back on.

  Instead of words of gratitude, Bayek received a panicked warning.

  "They have their horses!" Athia yelled as if he wasn't sitting just in front of her. "A camel can't outrun a horse!"

  "Ah! A camel is still better! More energy…we will lose them in the desert."

  Given a moment to think about it, Athia found Bayek was right. Horses didn't have as much stamina as a camel. If the Red Guard was so hasty to catch them before they left the city, they could only follow them so far before their horses grew tired.

  Of course, that's if they didn't catch up to them first.

  Thinking of the worst seemed only to summon it. The many horses of the Red Guard took to the streets, Mirza at its head. Athia could feel his eyes burrow into the back of her head even from so far away and she looked back at their fast-approaching pursuers.

  "They see us, we need to lose them in the city," Athia urged Bayek.

  Bayek pulled the reins of the camel and the two entered the first street wide enough to take the camel, straight into the celebrating people. Lights, colors, and foods created a full assault on the senses. Bayek battled to keep the camel under control as they charged through streamers, singers, storytellers, and scared citizens.

  The chaos only grew when the Red Guard horses joined. While Bayek used all his focus to avoid running down anyone, Mirza had no such consideration. Those who weren't knocked to the side had to be pulled out of the way by the panicked crowd. Their screams caught his attention and he tempered his rage to keep control.

  It was Bayek's skill that widened the gap between them. He took corners better, avoided obstacles easily, and was soon disappearing into the city. Mirza and his guard only struggled the deeper into the celebration they went.

  Mirza spat as the two disappeared. He quickly threw out orders, trying to salvage the pursuit.

  ~*~

  Athia and Bayek had left the city by the time the Red Guard escaped the mass confusion they had been lured into. Mirza sent horses around the city to spot the camel and determine the direction it was going. He understood, despite his rage, that if it was to be a long chase, they needed camels as well.

  Mirza would be the first to continue the pursuit, but arrangements needed to be made. He had lost the initial chase, so he would prepare properly to ensure he didn’t lose the next. Soon, the city of Red Rock would weep as the news spread, as would the rest of the desert when the falcons were sent to the other cities.

  The Sultan was dead and his killers were out there. Everyone would get a description and ensure the whole Everlasting Desert was watching for Athia and Bayek.

  ~*~

  Sellah, along with all the other party-goers, remained in the courtyard, seated as Mirza had left them. He rode in briskly, paying them little attention.

  The pillow merchant watched the captain approach the royal family at the top of the center stairs. He fell to his knees and told them something. Sellah could see how emotionless his expression was. It was the same statue face all people pulled when fighting a torrent of emotion.

  The Sultan’s two daughters ran into the palace first, then the son, but the wife, Shadya, lingered for a moment. Instead of shock, she seemed to think about the words she heard. She wasn’t surprised by the news, only saddened. She looked out at the people in the courtyard and then back at Mirza.

  “Clear the courtyard,” Shadya told him simply.

  “I cannot,” Mirza said in surprise. “The assassins…that girl and the rider…they got our attention on purpose. I believe an accomplice is among the people.”

  “Or perhaps she didn’t want to see you execute your suspects, whether she knew them or not,” the widow replied.

  “I would not…it was only a way to-” Mirza began.

  Shadya turned away from the courtyard and entered the palace. Mirza gave orders to one Red Guard to escort the people out of the palace and followed after the Sultan’s wife.

  They walked in silence. It was slowly becoming unbearable for Shadya, who was wiping every tear that she shed while flanked by Mirza. Her mind was already making arrangements for Atlasi’s funeral. It was her mind taking over when her heart couldn’t handle it. She distracted herself by looking at Mirza, whose mind was also elsewhere.

  “Thank you, Mirza, I know you will do all you can,” Shadya told him as they entered the atrium. “Just…don’t become what you were a moment ago.”

  Her gratitude fell on deaf ears, Mirza could not accept it or the wise warnings.

  “And I want you to know that Atlasi thought of you as a son all these years,” Shadya continued bravely. “When the time comes, I want you to be there at his-”

  It was all she could bear to say. Her stoicism was broken, the weight of her love’s death crashing down on her. Mirza looked down and waited for her to stop, or dismiss him, unable to cry with her. He would wait as long as it took.

  “He would want you to be there...by his side.”

  Mirza sighed.

  “I will.”

  All the rage in Mirza was quietened by Shadya’s grief, if only for a moment. He would still be the first to pursue the assassins, but until then, the Sultan’s family needed him. Mirza followed Shadya towards the sounds of her crying children.

  ~*~

  Bayek slowed the camel once Red Rock was a dark speck in the distance. The length of the desert lay before them and it could only be crossed with patience, not with haste. Everyone in the Everlasting Desert knew this, which is why camels made the ideal mount for such journeys. Bayek looked on, staring at the curves of the land and then the smattering of stars, which made better guides.

  As Bayek worked out their direction, he felt a shaking feeling behind him. Turning around, he saw Athia was shaking like a leaf, her eyes wide. Bayek wondered if it was the sight of death that made her this way, but she answered this silent question.

  “It’s cold,” Athia told him. “Where did you put the blankets? Never mind, I found them.”

  Athia pulled as much blanket as she could from the small bundle in front of her and wrapped it around her person. She sat with her back leaning against Bayek’s, staring at the distant city. The warmth of the celebrations seemed to stay with her only so long. Now, so suddenly, she was cold and far away. As if all that happened was just a bad dream she finally awoke from.

  Athia expected to see the fast-approaching specks of the Red Guard, but there was nothing. Secure in the thought they were not in any immediate danger, she snaked a hand into her sash and wrapped her fingers around the emerald. Lifting it from underneath the blanket, she then began to work at the metal and cloth that clung to the jewel.

  It was more difficult of a task than she expected, but eventually, Athia tossed a scrap of the Sultan’s turban aside and examined the jewel. Her hand was barely large enough to clasp it and, even in the moonlight, it glowed a rich green. Its glitter would send a flourish of excitement through even the most reserved of thieves.

  If Athia held this jewel a year ago, she might have shaken as she did in the cold desert air on any warm day. Yet, in that moment, it was like holding something dead; cold, and lifeless. It was a reminder.

  Athia wished it was worthless to her.

  “We’re riding West, but where to?” Bayek asked. “I don’t know this desert as well as you. Another oasis? Another city?”

  “Don’t overestimate me, I know as much as you when it comes to the sands beyond Red Rock,” Athia said, slipping the jewel back into her sash and securing it. “I know only three cities and all three are behind us.”

  “So, what will we find?”

  “‘A cursed city of white, only found when you are looking for it.’” the words repeated in Athia’s mind.

  Athia was reluctant to answer. She had known Bayek only a couple of days, not nearly long enough to give him answers, not nearly enough to trust him. Yet, after all they had been through, she found herself doing just that.

  “A city of white,” Athia said. “And I know that’s not much, but it’s all I can give you.”

  “How do you know there is such a city?”

  “I will tell you more...just not now.”

  Athia waited for Bayek’s response. He stared onwards, keeping the camel moving at a steady pace. Athia’s answer was not a promising one. Even he could detect the fear in her voice. He had told people similar things growing up, especially on his journey to Red Rock.

  Yet, even after what they experienced, she was hesitant. It did not bode well for his decision to stay by her side, but it wasn’t enough to make him consider abandoning her.

  “Rest then, if you can,” Bayek told her.

  “I need to keep watch for-”

  “If you don’t see them by now, they won’t pursue us tonight. You should not worry anyway…I am used to looking over my shoulder.”

  Athia felt a trace of warmth in his words. Of all that Bayek had said since meeting her, it was the closest thing to a joke. Her gaze lingered a moment on the dark speck in the distance, but as it slipped out of sight, falling behind a dune, her eyelids fell as well.