Every once in a while, Nicholas glanced over his shoulder at Sage, like he didn’t recognize her. At first she thought it was shock. Likely he’d never seen a man die before.
The man on the boat had been the second man she’d killed—third, if the archer she hit was dead—but the first she’d really experienced. The first had been last year, in a desperate struggle for survival while she was on the point of blacking out—she did black out, and he’d bled to death while she was unconscious.
Alex had once confessed he was terrified all the lives he’d taken in battle had made him a monster. She’d assured him he was nothing of the kind, but as she recognized the look on the prince’s face, she truly understood Alex’s fear. Nicholas was scared. Of her. He looked at Sage like she was a monster. Perhaps she was.
She and Nicholas were safe in the canyon for now. High rock walls protected them from attack, but offered no shelter. They would need to eat eventually, too. Sage saw lizards and a few decent-sized rodents, but she didn’t dare stop. If their pursuers were smart, they’d try to catch her and Nicholas when they emerged on the far end. Their only chance of getting away from the Kimisar was to stay ahead, but beyond Beskan lay the impassable Yanli Gorge. She and Nicholas would have to leave the river at some point, and when they did, they would be in Casmun. The question was how deep into Casmun the Kimisar were willing to follow them.
As the sun slipped outside the canyon’s rim above, Sage made a decision: they would steer to the shore as soon as possible and forage for a few minutes before continuing downriver. As long as there was enough light to see, they’d stay on the water, but when they did stop, lighting a fire would be too risky. It would be a cold night.
Sage shivered in her damp clothes as they continued through the shaded canyon, praying they’d reach the south end before sunset.
59
ALEX’S LUNGS BURNED, and his legs begged for respite, but he would not stop. Every step was one step closer to her, to Nicholas. They found a place where the river plunged several feet, but there was no sign the boat had been wrecked. As the sun sank lower in the sky, Alex and his Norsari reached the entrance to the Beskan Gorge.
The sides of the river rose high, the water rushing into the narrow opening between stone walls. He paused to check for signs Sage and Nicholas had stopped, even for a few minutes, but found none. Across the river, Cass and his team combed the opposite bank for similar signs. He used hand signals to report over the river’s roar echoing out of the canyon. Nothing.
Rest and drink water, Alex signaled back, and gave the same instruction to the men around him.
Cass waved to him again with a report. One dead Kimisar, several miles back. Stone in head.
Alex grimly acknowledged the message. Sage and her sling. He deduced the Kimisar were following along, probably harassing Sage and Nicholas enough that they didn’t feel safe stopping, but she’d nailed one of them. Good for her.
He looked into the gorge. Beskan would provide Sage and Nicholas several hours of safety from the Kimisar, but little chance to relax. Alex would kill for a boat of his own right now.
Sergeant Lance approached and offered some dried fruit and venison, left over from their ill-fated trip into the desert. Most of the Norsari’s provisions had been lost in the fire. Alex looked around at the dozen men who’d kept up with him over the last five hours. They looked tired, but determined. Good men, all of them. He’d never been so proud to be a commander.
“Drink up and fill your canteens,” he said. “It’s not over yet.”
60
SAGE STEERED THE boat to the right shore, where a tangle of trees extended south. When they’d exited the gorge, a blast of hot desert air hit them, which felt good after so many hours of shade and damp, but her anxiety shot up at how exposed they were. It was another hour before she felt secure enough to land. This area had promise—a fallen tree leaned out and created a natural eddy and a place out of sight from the other shore.
She and Nicholas jumped out in shallow water and towed and pushed the boat onto the sandy pebbles. The first thing they did was find a place to relieve themselves. When they regrouped, Nicholas described a tree with some kind of fruit hanging from it, but it didn’t sound like anything Sage recognized as safe. A bird’s trill made her grab his arm. She wasn’t sure the source was an animal.
As if on cue, a man wearing a scarf wrapped around his head and loose tan clothing stepped out of the trees, leveling a bow and arrow at them. Sage swept Nicholas behind her and looked around. There had to be more.
Six additional men revealed themselves, holding various weapons. The leader of the group she identified immediately by the way everyone deferred to him. As she met his eyes, he swept his head scarf back, revealing the narrow white scar across the forehead of a familiar face.
Sage raised her hands to show she wasn’t armed. “Basmedar, Darit Yamon.”
“Basmedar, Saizsch Fahler.” Darit smiled ironically. “Though from the look of you, I think your fortune has been bad,” he said in Casmuni.
“We are agreed,” she replied. Eyebrows went up at her use of what was probably a formal and antiquated phrase.
Darit said an unfamiliar word, and the men around them lowered their weapons. He addressed her again. “Is your bad fortune due to your help to us?”
Sage shook her head. “Kimisar attacked us.”
The Casmuni leader didn’t look as though he quite believed her. It probably did seem awfully convenient. She wasn’t sure she had enough words to explain.
One of his companions shouted and pointed at the river. A body had drifted into the eddy pool.
Sage took a step toward it, and weapons went up. After a glance at Darit, she continued to the water’s edge. Wading into the river, she grabbed the man by his arm and dragged his body onto the shore.
She recognized the soldier even before she rolled him onto his back. The hilt of Alex’s dagger still protruded from his throat, his face frozen in an expression of desperation. Bile rose in her throat at the memory of taking the man’s life.
Darit walked up behind her. “Your work?” he asked, pointing at the knife.
“Yes,” she said. Sage pulled the dagger out and wiped it on the dead man’s shirt, then tucked it back in its sheath on her belt and stood to face Darit. “More will come soon.”
Darit gestured for his men to lower their weapons, but noise from the west made them turn in that direction instead. Another Casmuni man burst from the trees, shouting and pointing upriver.
His meaning was plain: the Kimisar were coming. At Darit’s nod, two men left the arc around Sage and Nicholas, and followed the man back into the forest, weapons in hand.
Darit stared at the dead Kimisar for a few seconds, then looked back to Sage, who had gone to stand by Nicholas again. He nodded as though making a decision. “Come with us,” he said. “We will protect you.”
“What is he saying?” Nicholas asked.
“He’s offering us protection.”
“What do we do?”
She doubted the Casmuni would force them, but the better choice was obvious. It would be several days before the Demorans found her and Nicholas. If they found them. “We go with them,” she said.
61
HUZAR’S TEAM LOST precious time crossing the river, but their prey would be foolish to stop on the side they’d been attacked from. The Kimisar were famished, exhausted. He began to worry that if they caught the prince, they wouldn’t be able to hold on to him. Huzar’s only chance of getting home was slipping through his fingers like sand.