The Cult of Sutek (6 page)

They both turned.

“Back to our camp it would seem,” said Rondel.

“Why did you help me?”

He looked to Andrasta, waiting for her to answer since it seemed she had her own motivation for acting. She said nothing.

The girl dusted herself off after a moment and spoke again without an answer to her first question. “My name is Dendera. May I come with you? At least for the night?”

“No,” said Andrasta. “Take what you can from this mess, unhitch the horses, and go on your way. Hopefully you’ll be wiser.”

Dendera frowned as she gazed at all the bloodshed. “But I don’t . . . nevermind.”

Andrasta wheeled and left.

Rondel hurried after her. “What’s the matter with you? We didn’t even search the things ourselves. It’d be nice to have something for our trouble.”

“You know good and well a group like that has nothing we’d want.”

“We could help the girl get a travel pack together. After all, we did go through all the trouble of saving her. I mean there’s no harm in letting her share our fire for the night, right? Besides, we don’t even know where she’s from. You ever considered that she might have some information we could use? There might even be a reward for her return if she really is a noble.”

Andrasta bobbed her head. “Fine. Just for tonight. I’ll be back at camp.”

* * *

For years, it seemed like Andrasta was always angry at someone or something. Her father, her family, her tribe, her entire country treated her poorly throughout her life, primarily due to her mixed blood. Master Enzi had done no better, though his reasoning had more to do with being the lone female among his students.

After leaving Juntark, the way people looked at her may have changed, but her experiences with them did not. Everyone continued to treat her poorly with harsh words or presumptuous actions. She reasoned quickly that the best approach in life was to be the aggressor and place other people on the defensive.

She returned to camp alone and angry while Rondel helped Dendera pick through the kidnapper’s things. Her partner was a constant source of her anger as of late. His knowledge about the Jewel of Bashan had convinced Andrasta to go against her better judgment in forming their partnership. Their lack of progress toward that goal brought her closer to terminating the agreement each day. She couldn’t keep wasting time with him.

Regardless of the fact he might occasionally make me laugh. If he doesn’t contribute something and get us closer to the jewel soon, it’s over.

She kneeled on the ground, and worked to rebuild the fire Rondel scattered earlier. When finished, she settled down on her back and tried to sleep. It would not come.

Her anger kept her awake.

Seeing Dendera bound, brought back painful memories of how helpless she once felt when she had received her scar. It was before becoming a student of Master Enzi’s and she hadn’t the skill yet to defend herself. She would have given anything to have someone stand up and help her as she and Rondel had for Dendera tonight. Yet, no one ever did.
At least not for the right reasons.
It only made sense to do what no one had done for her.

But this girl ran away. She wasn’t shunned or ignored by her family. She actually chose to leave.

Andrasta could not understand why anyone would leave a family that appeared far better than her own.

She rolled over.

A part of her regretted saving the girl at all.

Chapter 3

Rondel had spent the better part of an hour with Dendera sifting through the tattered belongings her captors had left behind. Their efforts warranted one half-filled pack of supplies worth keeping.

Andrasta pretended to sleep on the far side of camp, lying on her side, back to the licking flames. Rondel ignored his partner, letting her sulk, puzzled by what had caused the sudden shift in her behavior toward the girl.

He handed Dendera the remains of their stew. She took a bite and smiled before inhaling the bowl’s contents like she hadn’t eaten in days.

Dendera sopped up the last of the stew with a heel of bread. Something about the girl seemed strangely familiar, but he couldn’t make sense of it. She shoved the last bite in her mouth, let out a small sigh of contentment, and set the bowl down.

“Good?” he asked.

She looked at him for the first time since beginning her meal and reddened. “Very much so. Did you make it?”

“Andrasta did.”

“She’s a fine cook.”

He looked to his partner, seeing if the compliment had roused her interest. The only movement came from the rise and fall of her torso.

“So, how’d you get yourself in that mess back there?” he asked.

“They lied to me.”

“You don’t say.”

She scowled. “Make fun of me all you want. I was hungry and desperate for food. I didn’t really think things through when I ran away. I had gone through all my supplies and money sooner than I expected to. The old woman offered me work. I was supposed to do some odd chores for her as we traveled to Pilak. I was heading there anyway so it made sense to take her offer.” She paused. “She seemed nice enough at the time.”

“I’ll bet. Then what?”

“I met the rest of her family. The sons made me uncomfortable right away, but I didn’t have many other options. Once we left the inn where we met, they tied me up.”

“You should have followed your gut,” said Rondel.

“Easy to say now, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“So, you just hoped for the best.”

“More or less.”

“It must be an awful thing you’re running from to take those kinds of gambles.”

“I thought so,” she muttered.

“You said you’re heading toward Pilak. What’s so special there?”

“It’s the fastest way out of my father’s lands. Someone was liable to spot me if I went north. Pilak is not necessarily my final stopping point.” She paused. “You know people call it the gateway to better things.”

“The way you’ve handled things so far, it sounds like the gateway to your death.”

She puffed herself up. “We’ll see.”

“So you’re going to keep trying things on your own then?”

“Yes. I’ve got supplies again and a horse. I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll be all right.”

Rondel doubted it and was about ready to say so when Dendera turned her head to cough. The high-pitched nasally sound made him cringe.

Something clicked inside his head, unlocking the secret to a riddle he hadn’t been able to answer.

“By the gods,” he whispered.

Dendera looked up. “What?”

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. Granted, you don’t look like the little girl I remember.” He shook his head. “I guess Dendera is a popular enough name in this region that it didn’t register for me, even with that platinum hair when everyone else’s is black. But that cough . . . even after all these years, I couldn’t forget that.”

She scowled. “What’s wrong with my cough? I was just clearing my throat.”

“No offense, but it’s one of the most annoying sounds I’ve ever heard in my life. I remember thinking the same thing when you were bouncing on your father’s knee in Girga.”

Dendera blinked. “You know my father? You mean you really are that Rondel?”

“I played in his hall years ago. King Horus was a good man. He was actually one of the few people I played before that I’d consider a friend. You were the apple of his eye.”

“Some apple,” she muttered.

Rondel ignored the comment, too busy thinking of how best to use the new information. “It occurs to me that he would offer a huge reward for the return of his daughter, wouldn’t he?”

Dendera frowned. Andrasta stirred at the edge of the fire, rolling over and giving Rondel an inquisitive look.

Rondel snorted. “I thought you were awake.”

Andrasta sat up. “A king’s daughter, huh?”

“Yes, but just so you understand, a king in Iget is not at the same level as a king elsewhere. Horus would be a duke or a wealthy baron where I’m from. A king in Iget has to answer to the Emperor.”

“Still, a duke’s daughter is nothing to laugh at.”

Dendera’s eyes widened. She looked at Rondel and slowly stood. “Maybe I’ll just get a head start on traveling tonight.” She backed away. “After all, you said you didn’t want me traveling with you.”

“Things change.” Andrasta grabbed Dendera by the wrists and began wrapping them in twine.

Dendera started to protest, stopping at the warrior’s icy glare.

“Settle down,” said Rondel. “Unlike your previous captors, we have no intentions of hurting you. In fact, taking you home is probably the best thing that could happen to you anyway.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I was running away from,” snapped the girl.

“All right. What are you running away from?”

Dendera opened her mouth, ready to plead her case. She looked between Andrasta and him, then shook her head. “People like you wouldn’t understand.”

“People like us?” Rondel chuckled in order to hide his irritation at the comment. “You forget I ran in your circles once. Whatever the other girls are whispering about you behind your back is nothing compared to what would have happened had we not come along.”

“Just like everyone else who thinks they know me,” mumbled Dendera.

Andrasta sat the girl down. Dendera seemed deflated which suited Rondel just fine at the moment as she would be less likely to try and escape. He leaned back and settled in for the night, ready to dream something positive. The money they’d get from returning the daughter of a king would go a long way in building up goodwill between him and Andrasta.

His partner gave him an approving nod before she too settled down by the fire.

He smiled.

* * *

Rondel woke as the morning sun gently kissed the sky. Stiff and tired from the training and excitement the night before, he dreaded the day’s ride.

Though his muscles had hardened and his lung capacity had expanded from what it was months ago, it never seemed enough. Any time he thought he was getting somewhere, Andrasta would push him harder or have him do some crazy exercise he swore she invented only to torture him.

Yet, every one of them she can do with ease.

It made him wonder if in Juntark they had their children running up mountains, chopping wood, and fighting mountain lions shortly after taking their first steps.

So much of his partner’s past remained a mystery to him and she seemed in no hurry to share. Even if she let some tidbit of information slip, it often raised more questions than provided answers.

Rondel huffed his way back to the horses after a quick run through the woods. The exhaustion permeating through every limb made him wonder if he should attempt to sleep on the road while riding. He had tried it once before, but falling off into a patch of briars made him wary of doing so again.

Not one of my more graceful moments. Still, I might not have a choice the way I feel.

“That took longer than it should have,” said Andrasta as he approached.

He coughed for air. “I bet I was faster than you thought I’d be.”

She said nothing in response, which meant he had guessed right. Sprinting the last part of the journey before merging into the clearing had been a gamble. He could have tripped or twisted an ankle, but he reasoned that after securing their new job to see Dendera home, he should keep building on the goodwill already earned.

“I’ve got the horses packed,” she said, giving Rondel her back and leaping onto her mount.

Dendera sat in the saddle. Head down, she stared at her tied hands. Defeat covered her face. She hadn’t spoken a word since they bound her last night, and it didn’t seem like that would change any time soon.

“You’re not going to give me a chance to catch my breath?”

“You can breathe while you ride, can’t you? Quit wasting time. We’ve got five days of travel before we reach Girga.”

All business. But then she gets like that every time we’ve got a goal.

Rondel hid his pain while stretching his legs before climbing into the saddle. Andrasta kicked her mount forward while holding the reins of Dendera’s horse. Rondel grabbed a plum from his pack to eat on the road. He kept telling himself that one day he’d get used to this life of riding, training, and fighting.

With my luck it will be right before my life ends.

* * *

Midday, three days out from Girga, Rondel eased his mount beside Dendera’s as they journeyed the dry road. The girl still clung to the silent treatment as the dust clung to their skin and clothes.

I actually wouldn’t mind it to rain for once. Anything to get the taste of grit out of my mouth.

“All right, I’m ready to listen,” he said, hoping to coax a conversation out of her.

Minutes passed without a response, but Rondel refused to say anything more.

Small birds, mostly dark-capped bulbuls, sang their songs while bouncing from branch to branch along the large sycamore and lotus trees bordering the road. Their grayish-brown color contrasted against the bright blue-and-yellow sunbirds chirping in the sky. The clomping of the horses’ hooves filled the spaces between the birds’ songs.

“What are you ready to listen to?” she finally asked, voice scratchy from lack of use.

“The reason you ran away.”

“I already said you wouldn’t understand. Besides, why do you care?”

“Like I told you before, I liked your father. I’m curious what was so important that you’d hurt Horus by running away. The man’s got to be sick to his stomach not knowing where you are.”

“Only because he’ll have to figure out some new plan to save his lands.”

“Huh?”

She sighed. “Father wants to use me as a bargaining tool.”

“I guess you are old enough to be married off.”

“I’m only sixteen. I hoped to wait at least another year or two before worrying about that.”

“Eighteen is the more ideal age, but you aren’t so young that it would be frowned upon. Just be glad you don’t live in Harth. They marry their girls away as soon as they have their first monthly visitor.”