Henry rolled his eyes at Sage. “Have you ever tried to argue with a prince?”
“Only every afternoon,” she replied. She would’ve offered her own mending kit, but if the two squires were down to only one needle between them, it didn’t bode well for getting hers back. “Do you know where you’re going?”
“No one ever thinks to tell the squires, but they gave everyone an extra canteen and one of these.” Henry held up a water sling, which was basically a large waterskin that was carried across the back.
Water was plentiful in this area, so the need to carry extra water could only mean one thing: they were going into the desert.
Into Casmun.
36
SNEAKING INTO THE company was easier than Sage had expected. Henry had been agreeable to letting her go in his place once he realized it meant he could spend several days skipping duties and catching up on sleep. Rather than her usual belted tunic and hose, Sage wore a pair of torn, discarded trousers that had just enough serviceable fabric left to tailor into something that fit her small frame. The new breeches coupled with the loose squire’s tunic hid her shape rather well. She worried about standing out with the scarf wrapped around her head, but the night was cold and windy, and half the men assembled wore theirs already.
The trickiest moment came before they left. Sage was standing in her tent, loading Henry’s borrowed pack, when Alex came to see her. Fortunately, he didn’t just walk in like he had that first night.
“Sage?” he’d called from just outside the tent flap. “Are you dressed?”
“Yes,” she said without thinking, because she was dressed, then she’d nearly shouted, “No, wait! Don’t come in!”
The shadow of his hand dropped. “I just wanted to say good-bye.”
Sage crept to the entrance. “Where are you going?”
“Just on a training patrol.” He sounded tense and distracted. “It will be a longer one.”
He’d never bothered to say good-bye before. She didn’t know how to respond. “Be safe,” she finally said.
His fingers pressed against the canvas. “I love you,” he said quietly.
Sage reached out to touch the same spot, but he moved his hand. “I love you, too.” She never knew if he heard her.
They forded the river and headed downstream about a mile before Alex made everyone pause and drink from their canteens before refilling them. Then he led them south, away from the water, for another couple miles until they came to where the trees ended and the sands began. By the light of the half-moon, the dunes looked black and white, the edges of the shadows sharp and distinct.
Alex turned to face the men behind him. Sage ducked behind a soldier, not wanting to chance his noticing her. “Everyone will remain vigilant and alert,” he said. “If you see any sign of people, report it immediately. The area is uninhabited, but always be prepared to defend yourselves.” He nodded to Lieutenant Gramwell beside him, pulled his head scarf up to protect against the sand, and turned and walked into the desert without another word.
No one spoke for the first few hours, just focused on walking in the shifting sands. By sunrise, Sage could barely tell any of the Norsari apart, they were so coated in dust and grit. Alex led them south—or at least she thought it was south—for an indeterminate distance, then turned southeast. She wondered if Alex actually knew where he was going—she certainly couldn’t see any landmarks. The squires were generally ignored, except when the group stopped to rest, and they passed out provisions and refilled canteens from the “mules,” large bags of water carried by some of the bigger men. By midafternoon, when they stopped to pitch tents and rest through the hottest hours of the day, Sage was feeling fairly confident she’d be able to keep up this ruse, especially if everyone always kept their heads wrapped.
Complications arose on the first night.
They’d stopped again at sunset, to rest and wait for the moon to rise so they could see where they were going. She was bedding down in the small tent she shared with Harold, the other squire, when she caught a glimpse of red-gold hair on the head next to hers. Knowing exactly who she’d find, Sage tore the scarf away from his head. “Highness!” she hissed. “What in the Spirit’s name are you doing here?”
“Like you can talk.” The prince wore a sleepy grin as he rolled onto his back. “Let’s just say I was inspired by my admirable tutor.”
“You can’t be here!” she whispered furiously. “Do you have any idea what Captain Quinn will do when he finds out?”
“You didn’t seem worried about the consequences.”
“That’s because I have no intention of getting caught.” Sage punched him on the shoulder, hard.
“Ow! Neither do I.” Nicholas rubbed the spot she’d hit. “Besides, what can he do? Confine us both to the camp? How is that any different from the last six weeks?”
“He can do a lot more than that.”
“Then don’t get caught.” Nicholas shrugged and rolled to his side again, facing away from her.
If only it were that easy. Sage smacked his head for good measure and threw his scarf back at him. “You’d better wear this even in your dreams.”
37
ALEX HAD TWO objectives in the desert, besides not dying.
The first was to find Casmuni and ascertain what they were doing. Estimates from last year’s intrusion were approximately one hundred, so he brought forty men—handpicked from each platoon—plus Lieutenant Gramwell and two squires, figuring they could handle two-to-one odds fairly well. If the Casmuni numbered significantly more, it was better if none of the Demorans survived.
In the event the Norsari encountered no one, Alex’s backup plan was to have the first few miles into the desert charted out when they returned. Then at least he’d be able to present Colonel Traysden with something tangible.
The desert had disturbingly little to map, however. There were no rock formations or permanent hills among the rolling dunes. If Alex hadn’t had years of practice orienting himself by the sun and stars, the Norsari would’ve been completely lost by the first night. On the second morning, Alex led the group west, intending to have completed a wide triangle when he returned. He was doubly glad he’d chosen to travel on foot. Horses would’ve needed to drink the extra water they could’ve carried, and the deep sands might have caused them injury.
There were no signs of Casmuni.
The waning crescent moon rose later every night, giving them less light each time. He’d told Casseck to expect his return after the new moon, but unless the Norsari found water soon, they’d have to head back early. Alex tried to tell himself the mission wasn’t a complete loss. Just the experience of traversing the sand and learning how easy it was to become disoriented and dehydrated was valuable. None of the men along would ever underestimate the desert.
The wind picked up on the third morning, and visibility was so bad Alex ordered everyone to stay put until the hottest part of the day was over, a move that also conserved water. Weeks of sleepless nights were taking their toll on him, too, but the heat made sleeping damn near impossible. He only managed an hour or two before nightmares put an end to the attempt. Instead he lay in his sweltering tent, thinking. When they broke camp, he would lead the Norsari northeast. They’d be back at the river in two days with nothing to show for it.
He needed to see her.
Casseck would make Sage’s protection a priority, Alex had no doubt of that. Even so, her presence at the camp always tugged at him like a rope under strain, trying to drag him back to make sure she was all right. Now he wondered if he’d unconsciously played it safe in the last few weeks, not wanting to risk having to make the choice he always faced in his dreams. If so, he deserved his failure.
He should’ve told her, should’ve tried to explain, but doing so admitted he was unfit for duty. As long as he never said it out loud, he could hold on to the hope that it wasn’t true.