‘I find that very hard to believe,’ Jin said.
‘I’m just amazed one of us didn’t get there first,’ I said, stepping away from the captain. ‘What did he hit you for?’
‘Jealousy,’ Sam said, dabbing at his bloody face with his sleeve. ‘Over my good looks. Do you think my nose is broken?’
‘Seems our friend with the decent right hook knows Sam from his days serving Her Majesty.’ Jin filled in the truth, quickly translating what the younger soldier was saying to his captain.
I groaned, looking at the ceiling. ‘So they know you’re a deserter.’
‘I would like to remind you –’ Sam did a very poor job of looking indignant with a bloody nose – ‘that I wouldn’t even be here to be recognised as a deserter if it wasn’t for you.’
‘No, you’d probably be flotsam outside the White Fish,’ Jin said before I could fire back.
‘Besides,’ Sam went on, ‘that punch wasn’t for patriotism. When I left the army, I needed some additional resources to finance myself. You know, until I got settled in Izman.’
‘So you stole from him.’ This was getting better by the second.
‘No.’ Sam looked outraged. ‘Not just from him. I stole from a lot of people.’
I pinched the bridge of my nose in exasperation. ‘Can you remind me when we get out of here to kill you?’
Before Sam had a chance to dig himself any deeper, the other two soldiers stepped forward, pushing past us almost apologetically to seize Sam by the arms.
‘What’s happening now?’ I asked. Captain Westcroft was looking unhappily on, hands interlocked behind his back as he gave his soldiers orders.
‘They’re arresting him,’ Jin said, translating, as Sam was led away, his mocking incredulity shifting to something more serious. ‘For desertion.’
‘And then what?’ I asked. Sam had said that in Albis they hung their deserters from trees. But we were a little low on trees up here in the mountains.
Jin hesitated; he didn’t want to give me the answer.
‘He’ll be executed,’ Captain Westcroft answered me, though he didn’t look happy about it, tugging on his moustache. ‘At dawn, by firing squad.’
Seemed like I wasn’t going to have to be the one to kill him after all.
Chapter 13
I wasn’t sure if we were prisoners or not.
We were divided up quickly, before I could talk to Jin about the captain’s offer, each of us sent to separate rooms. They didn’t lock our doors, but there were soldiers posted outside.
The room I was escorted to didn’t look like a cell either. It was about the size of my aunt’s whole house back in Dustwalk, dominated by a large bed littered with colourful pillows and a carpet that stretched from one wall to the other and depicted a hunting scene, a man with arrows chasing a flock of birds around and around the border. My window overlooked the courtyard, the fortress walls and, just beyond that, the side of the mountain that plunged down in rolling waves of green vines to a smaller village a little way below.
As I peered out, there was a knock at the door. Two servants entered, heads down. One was carrying a pitcher of water, the other a huge silver platter heavy with food. They set them down on the table before quickly leaving, closing the door behind themselves.
Whatever privileges were being given to us didn’t extend to Sam.
Hala had died at dawn. It was nearing dusk now, and we were close to losing Sam, too. A third of our rebels dead in one day. Losing people this quickly was an impressive feat for any leader.
But in return, we could add hundreds to our numbers and keep two of our country’s enemies from allying against us.
A whole army in exchange for the life of one boy who was a whole lot more trouble than he was worth. But he was my friend and our ally all the same. He had saved me as many times as I had saved him, and he’d brought me help when I needed it in the harem. I’d lay down my life for him in a fight. I didn’t know if he’d do the same for me, but he sure hadn’t given me permission to give up his life for him.
And if I did, even if I gained us an alliance, I’d be handing over my country to foreign hands, just like the Sultan had done when he’d usurped his own father. The Albish were better than the Gallan, but they were still foreigners. They were still here to occupy our desert.
Who the hell was I to make this call? This shouldn’t be my decision – not Sam’s life, not the throne, not the lives of our friends or the fate of a whole country. Someone else should be deciding these things, Ahmed or Shazad or even Rahim. Someone who knew a damn about something.
I glanced at my door. Jin had been led into a room just across the hallway from mine. With walls and doors between us, I was somehow more keenly aware of him than I had ever been.
If I tried to cross the hallway, would the soldier stop me? And if he didn’t, and I took a few short steps to his room and knocked at the door, then what? I wasn’t sure what I would say. What I would do. What did I even want from him – to talk? For him to tell me that I should let Sam die for the sake of the Rebellion? For his help making a plan to get our imposter bandit out of here alive? Or did I want something else? I could feel his absence like an itch below my skin.
Before I could think better of it, I was at the door, wrenching it open. The soldier standing outside was Mirajin, one of Bilal’s men and too well trained by Rahim to jump at sudden noises. He glanced at me calmly from where he was standing at attention between the two doorways.
‘Do you have orders to stop me?’ I asked.
The soldier considered me for a long moment. ‘There’s a rumour going around that you’re headed to rescue the commander.’ He was talking about Rahim. Their commander, the man they were still loyal to. Anwar, the young soldier who had been translating for Bilal, must have told the rest of the men what I’d said.
‘I’m going to try.’
He nodded thoughtfully. ‘In that case, as far as I’m concerned, you can go wherever you want.’ He moved to let me pass. I stepped out of the room and glanced at Jin’s closed door. The idea of taking another step towards it, of closing that last distance between us, sent a small thrill down my spine that felt equal parts fear and anticipation.
Fear got the better of me.
I turned, moving down the hallway and away from him quickly.
*
I found the captain on the fortress walls, surveying six of his soldiers who were lined up, taking shots at a bale of hay with unnecessarily decorative rifles. They were handmade, just like all the guns that came from anywhere in the world that wasn’t Miraji. That was why they needed us so badly. We could arm as many people in a day as they could in a month of making weapons.
The last of the setting sun hit the barrels of the rifles, making the gold insets gleam in the twilight. They were in the shapes of elaborate twisting vines that worked their way down into the wooden handles. They looked more ceremonial than useful. For an execution rather than for battle. I guessed the bale of hay was a standin for Sam.
The top of the bale came loose as the bullets struck it, and it teetered for a moment before toppling backwards, off the wall. I leaned over, watching it plummet down and over the cliff face before crashing on the mountain far below.
It was a long drop.
‘Miss Amani.’ Captain Westcroft acknowledged me, dismissing his soldiers with a quick nod. ‘How can I help you tonight?’ If he was surprised that I’d got out of my room, he didn’t show it.
‘I want to talk to you about Sam.’
‘I see.’ Clasping his hands behind his back, he slowly began to walk along the walls, letting me fall into step behind him.
‘I want to make his release a condition in our alliance.’ Shazad would be able to negotiate this. I wasn’t her, but I could pretend I was for one conversation.