“We searched every town, every village, and then we went further.” He gave her a small smile. “You are quite good at hiding.”
The people in the market had stopped their milling transactions to watch her family’s symbolicTamgamarkings, branded into the leathers of the soldiers and horses filling the streets. Behind her, the men mobilized. She thought she heard Michel’s voice. She felt his pain and confusion despite being separated.
Khuyag continued, “We knew Ganbold hunted you. We were able to track him. Learned that you traveled with a French party.” He folded his arms. “We discovered his death in Kashgar. From there, we were directed here.”
Renault, she thought. A coward.
She looked down. “I was afraid I would bring war if I returned home,” she said, her voice small. “I ran from the tribe, but I feared coming home would mean everyone would fight. I did not want that.”
“The ancestors decide when we go to war,” he consoled. “It is not up to us to try to change their will.”
A soldier approached, telling them the apartment had been cleared.
“Is there anything you wish to retrieve before we leave?” Khuyag asked her.
“Yes,” she said, thinking of the things she would gather. Michel’s sword and dagger, and other things that had become important. She hoped she would have the chance to return the items to him. But she didn’t move yet. She put her hand on Khuyag’s arm. “I ask you again. Allow the Frenchman, Michel, to remain here. He has no fault in this.”
“Like I said,Gonji, it is not my decision. Your father said when we found you to bring anyone you were with back as well.”
“What does he want with him?”
“I do not claim to understand the Khan’s will. You must speak with him.”
Eve looked back toward the apartment, but she did not see him. “He’s not a criminal, Khuyag. Don’t treat him as such,” she said, a sudden sob coming out of her. “He protected me.”
“My dear,” Khuyag said. He put his arm around her. “I would do my best to hide that emotion. Your father won’t take to such affection.”
“I am aware,” she said, the sob disappearing as quickly as it had descended.
ChapterThirty-Seven
Michel had been in a closed oxcart for several days as the party traveled well into territory he had never seen. The wooden cart had slatted gaps that allowed him to watch the terrain as they moved. He had enough space that he could sit up without hunching, but it was not comfortable by any means. He alternated between staring at the landscape and then exercising himself to exhaustion in his only bid to stay healthy and sane. His wound had healed over by now, but it still pulled on him, making him wince with certain movements.
The party moved with an efficiency and speed he had never experienced, switching out horses to continue a fast pace and stopping only for moments to relieve themselves or to sleep for a few hours each night. Michel quickly became confused about how long they had traveled. He thought maybe five days by now, but he really wasn’t sure. He hadn’t spoken with Eve. Occasionally, he spotted her among the thirty or so men and the sea of horses as she rode alongside the man called Khuyag. Only Khuyag had come to look in on him and speak a little with him. The man would slip him dried beef and sugared fruit to eat and mare’s milk to drink. A blanket to protect him from the wind. He assured Michel that Eve was safe.
Michel thought always of Eve, awake or dreaming.
At present, he felt the party slow for the first time in hours. He’d been doing pushups, but at the change of pace, he rolled to peer out the slats of his prison. Ahead, he saw yurts scattered across deep green pastures filled with herd after herd of goats and sheep. Beyond, rolled naked blue-gray mountains. The air had been growing thinner on this journey, and the low-hanging clouds, mixing with the smoke from the yurts’ chimneys, confirmed the high elevation. Michel changed his position to look ahead where he could see large imperial buildings with golden roofs tipped up at the edges, and one very large palace that seemed like it could be from his own home. The dread that had curtained him the further they had gone into new land continued to deepen. The whole time he’d been with her, from the moment he plucked her out of Merv, to the moment he’d finally told her he loved her, he had thought he’d been protecting an exceptional woman from men who aimed to harm her. Hearing the bits of conversation he could make out, seeing this military procession, and just opening his damn eyes to the reality of Eve’s life, he’d realized that no, he hadn’t saved a tribal woman. Michel had kidnapped a princess.
He rolled to his back, placing his hands on his chest, trying to catch his breath in the thin, smoky air. The blue of the sky seemed darker here. The colors everywhere were more vivid. He knew he was never meant to see this land. The tribes were notoriously insular and did not trade with or even permit Westerners far beyond Kashgar. Trade, his position, his reputation, none of it mattered anymore. The questions he had since the moment their little home had been invaded still ratcheted his brain: why did she keep all this from him? Even more crushing, he wondered if any of it, anything between them, had been real.
Eve could outthink him. Had all of this been a ploy just for her to get away? Were they holed up together in Carth just so she could bide her time until she was found by her people, since he hadn’t gotten her to France fast enough? Their fledgling engagement, the care she gave him, thesex…was everything done to distract him long enough for her to alert her people to her whereabouts? And Ganbold…had she tricked Michel into fighting her enemy despite knowing it would destroy his livelihood?
He was mad at himself for falling in love so stupidly. How did it happen? He, of all people, should not have let this happen. He, of all people, should not have let himself be manipulated by a beautiful woman. An intriguing woman. A woman to whom he could never measure up. He shook his head. He never stood a chance against her.
But in his heart, if he thought about it, he didn’t believe it had been an act. It couldn’t have been.
He just needed to see her again. To speak with her and look into her eyes. To understand if the way she looked at him had changed now that she no longer needed him.
They moved through the valley and into the town. Michel watched with an idiot’s awe as the buildings became even larger and more opulent up close. Every person they passed stood reverently by and bowed at the procession. A lifetime of meeting kings and queens and nobles had not prepared him for this. Her family, her identity, it was all beyond him.
He rolled his head to the side and looked out as they passed the colorful buildings. Over the rumbling of the horses, he heard men shouting in a dialect he could not understand. Eve was right. Everyone was right. He knew nothing. Outside, he felt the wind pick up. He closed his eyes, letting the movement of the cart lull him. He knew he would have no peace when he arrived.
Was he to be killed? He didn’t know.
It didn’t matter. If he could never see her again, none of it mattered.
She was home.
