She gave the man, who’d introduced himself as Theo, a small smile. “I agree. I’m certainly ready to get out of this saddle.” They’d taken a few breaks to allow the horses a chance to rest, drink water, and eat forage, but none longer than thirty minutes. Ciana was sore and aching in the way only a day of riding could cause.
And they still had two more days to go.
Theo scratched the back of his head. “Are the days always this hot in the desert?”
Ciana glanced away. “I’ve only been here for about a week,” she said. “But from what I’ve seen, yes.”
Theo grumbled. “At least the hunters have been fruitful. There’s a group returning now.”
Sure enough, five riders trotted toward them across the sands, the same group that had left a few hours ago. Variousspoils of their successful hunt were slung across their saddles: desert hares and two larger animals that resembled deer but with leaner limbs and shorter antlers.
A strange sense of pride filled Ciana at the returning hunters. Even though they would be relying on the people of Kreah for so much, at least they still could contribute. Her people were not as helpless as they might appear.
“I don’t know about you, Theo,” Ciana said. “But I’m ready for a bath and a freshly cooked meal.”
“I’m certain my wife is feeling the same as you.” Theo smiled. They were close to the oasis now; the Kreah soldiers had stopped their unloading, facing the approaching caravan with rigid postures.
Ciana gave a soft laugh. “Go check on her.” She nodded toward the caravan. “I’ll be fine. I need to greet our hosts and make sure everything is settled for the night. Go tell the others that the hunters are returning.”
Indecision warred briefly on Theo’s kind face, but he relented with a nod. “Lady Ciana,” he said warmly as a farewell.
She gave him another encouraging smile, and he wheeled his gelding about, starting off at a trot back to the main caravan. Ciana pressed her heels into her mare’s flank, loping the short distance across the sands.
A tall, dark-skinned soldier stepped forward at her approach, hair cropped short to his skull. He wore fitted padded armor on his chest, but his pants were loose and flowing, offering both freedom of movement and coolness to combat the desert heat.
“Are you Lady Ciana?” His voice was deep and gruff but kind enough.
Ciana nodded, pulling her mare to a halt. “I am.” Clenching her teeth, she swung her sore legs over the saddle, landing with a wince in the packed sands.
The soldier gave a sharp nod. “Very well. I will show you to your accommodations for the evening. Your people will be instructed to make camp around the oasis; there are bathing pools within the trees and places suitable for a fire.”
“Thank you.”
The hard beat of hoofs on the sand rang out behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Ciana’s jaw clenched as Sebastian slowed his horse and came to a halt beside her, sliding effortlessly from his saddle as if the day of travel had hardly affected him.
It probably hadn’t. She knew how the Armature trained; this was like a day off for him.
He started toward her, frustrated concern flashing in his eyes. “Ciana?—”
She whirled back to the soldier. “Please, lead the way, sir.”
If the soldier was annoyed by the delay, he hid it well. With another nod, he strode into the oasis. Still refusing to acknowledge Sebastian, Ciana gripped her mare’s reins and followed.
The oasis was larger than it looked from the dunes, formed of a large ring of trees encircling a haven of pools hidden in their center. They skirted the tree line before following a path into their midst, the shade cast from their branches a welcomed reprieve from the sun.
“We pitched your tent just up here, outside the main pools where most of your people will make camp.”
Tent? Singular? Surely, he didn’t mean that literally, did he?
“Thank you, sir—” She halted abruptly as they rounded the bend in the trail.
Pitched just beyond an open area sparsely spotted with trees was a small solitary tent. Hardly tall enough for a grown man, and not much wider.
Could this day get any worse?
Ciana turned to the soldier with wide eyes. “Is there…is there another?”
The soldier narrowed his gaze, any patience he’d had before falling away. “We were told to pitch a tent for the members of the Onitan Queen’s court traveling with the caravan. Not to pitch two. There are no other accommodations.”
