Page 18 of Blood of the Sands

“I used to ride with Clan Ratan,” he offered. “Hopefully I can convince my family that I want to join them once more, to infiltrate the riders at Clan Katal’s encampment.”

I nodded. It was better that somebody who had been among the clans before served as the spy instead of somebody born and raised in Kelvadan. Life here seemed so different, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to explain the mindset of the clans to one who had never experienced it, or at least well enough for them to be able to join without arousing suspicion. It had been a while since I had ridden among the clans myself, but I still remembered the company in the encampment feeling different than the crush of life in Kelvadan. Among the clans, fires and stewpots were communal, where here everybody ate only with their families in their own houses. When I rode with Clan Padra, you traded what you had for what you needed, with honor and strength as the only currencies. Here in the city, Aderyn had been trying to teach me the values of the different coins and how they were exchanged for goods. Apparently, they were useful for trading with the handful of merchants who traveled from beyond the mountains but never ventured out of the city to trade with the clans.

Queen Ginevra spoke, drawing my attention back to the present. “I know you told me that Clan Ratan was the latest to join Lord Alasdar. Do you know which other clans are at his encampment?”

I shook my head. The only reason I knew of Clan Ratan’s presence was that I had been present on the day of their arrival.

Oren and Queen Ginevra took turns asking me questions about the encampment, although I only had the answer to about one in ten. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. Perhaps my lack of information would make them think that I was lying and turn me out into the desert. Maybe they would think that I was the spy.

Aderyn, who had remained quiet through the whole conversation, reached across the table and poured a glass of water from a pitcher resting between us. She offered it to me, and as I took it, she met my gaze, giving me a reassuring nod.

She didn’t smile, but the firmness of her gaze settled me. I didn’t know what I had done to earn her friendship, but I appreciated it all the same.

I continued answering their questions as best I could, racking my brain for any detail I may have forgotten in the chaos of my escape from Clan Katal. If I could help Kelvadan in any small way, after Aderyn and Neven and even the queen had shown me such kindness, then I would. I didn’t know if there were any other exiles sustained by the dream of Kelvadan, but I would not let the potential of life in the Great City be stolen from them.

Soon, the questions turned toward Lord Alasdar himself.

“Do you know who in the clan might be close to him? Close enough to be trusted with important information?” Oren asked.

I swallowed. “There was… a man.”

Queen Ginevra nodded encouragingly.

I searched my mind for the right words to describe the man in the mask. My memory stuck on the image of his strong silhouette as he led the riders in saber drills, but that felt like the wrong information to volunteer.

“He rides a black horse,” I started instead, “and he wears a strange mask. I think he oversees training the riders.”

“The Viper you mentioned? Do you know his name?” Queen Ginevra asked.

I shook my head. “Lord Alasdar only called him the Viper.”

“This mask, does he wear it all the time?”

I nodded. I had first encountered him without it, but I had come upon him while he was sleeping. He had put it on almost immediately, and the fact that I had seen his face was something I was strangely hesitant to admit. The strange intimacy of meeting his silver eyes in the moonlight felt like a private moment, and I was loathe to recount it to anybody else.

“If he is in charge of the riders, this Viper might be a good place to start,” Oren observed, running a hand over his dark, close-cropped beard.

“There’s another rider as well,” I spoke up. “Her name is Izumi. I don’t know much about her”—I hesitated, unsure what I meant to say, but envisioning her feeding me every day—“but she is not unkind.”

“Perhaps she might be helpful,” the queen said.

They continued to ask questions until my head spun and my voice nearly gave out. When they were finally finished though, the queen clasped my hand in both of hers and gave me a warm smile with a sincere “thank you”.

I found myself smiling at her kindness. A lord could demand answers without offering any gratitude, but her acknowledgment warmed me. A spark of happiness ran through me at the thought that the desert had spared my life so I could help save the inhabitants of this city. I only hoped that the help I could offer would be enough.

I woke up on my eighth day in Kelvadan to anticipation in the air. The excitement came in the form of chattering and music on every corner. While the residents of the city never shied away from color, today every person seemed to wear their brightest attire and every piece of jewelry they owned. The effect was as enamoring as it was dizzying as I wove my way down the block on my way back from a visit with Daiti. His presence calmed me as I worried about Oren, hoping that my warning would be enough to help Kelvadan withstand the clans. I wished I could help more but held myself in check for fear of revealing too much about my past.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t get home in time for us to dress you for the festival,” Neven worried as I pushed my way into the relative quiet of their residence. I blinked at the sight of Aderyn draped in pale-blue silk. A golden collar fastened the dress around her neck, the folds dripping like water down her torso to a golden belt gathering the fabric to her waist. Her arms and back were left completely bare, showing off more thick stripes of black ink tracing down her spine and down from her shoulders to the back of her hands. Even her eyes had been outlined in thick black kohl, making them stand out dramatically in her pale face.

“You look incredible,” I complimented, as Neven retrieved a pile of purple silk from the couch I had woken on a week ago.

“Neven’s textiles make me feel incredible, even though they aren’t practical to wear during daily training or patrols,” she admitted.

“And sands do you look beautiful in them, even if you hide the way they drape by strapping on a dozen weapons.”

Aderyn patted the handle of the curved dagger at her waist with a smile. “I know for a fact you find the number of weapons I carry attractive.”

I coughed behind my hand, and Neven peeled his gaze away from Aderyn to look at me. He shook out the fabric in his hands, and my eyes widened at what he had picked for me to wear to the festival.