Page 43 of Blood of the Sands

“Kelvar built this entire city in a day and couldn’t be bothered to give us a gate?” she asked nobody in particular.

“I’m not sure a gate made of stone would be very practical,” answered Dryden anyway from where he sat on his horse on my other side.

“It would have made me feel better,” she grumbled. “At least it is the only way in and out of the city, easily defended from the top of the walls.” She raised her voice now, gesturing to the guards walking along the edge of the wall for all the trainees to see. Aderyn decided to take us with her as she prepared the city’s security for the upcoming Trials, the trip outside the walls giving us a chance to practice riding in the open space. It also served as a tour of the city’s defenses.

“We could build a gate,” I pointed out.

“I could ask the queen to commission one, but it would take time to build such a structure.” Aderyn shook her head. “Besides, I doubt she would allow it. The lack of gate has always symbolized how Kelvadan is open to all. It would hardly fit with the tone of diplomacy she’s adopting for the Trials.” The tone of her voice indicated she didn’t see diplomacy ending in success. Aderyn was the type to perform negotiations with one hand on her sword.

Still, the queen held on to hope that the Trials could prevent a war. She planned to give places of honor to Lyall and Hadeon, the two diplomats, at the celebrations. By her estimation, just seeing them might show that Kelvadan would not stand alone against the clans of the desert, persuading some of the lords to rethink their allegiance to Lord Alasdar.

“While the clans certainly aren’t afraid of battle, they won’t risk their riders in a war they know they won’t win,” the queen had commented the afternoon after the failed dinner. “Perhaps if they see an attack on Kelvadan as hopeless, Lord Alasdar’s troops will melt around him.”

“We don’t have a promise from Viltov or Doran to send aid though,” I argued, unsure.

At that, Queen Ginevra smiled tightly. “What people think often ends up being more important than what’s actually true.”

Aderyn clearly wasn’t putting all her faith in the idea of Lord Alasdar’s forces disbanding. Night and day, she talked about security for the Trials, spending every second she wasn’t preparing for them training the riders in the case that war came fast on their heels.

Stopping before the gate, Aderyn wheeled her mount around to face us. “Pair up and survey the walls for any weaknesses Clan Katal could exploit on an attack of the city. Dryden, Keera, you start from the eastern edge where the wall meets the cliffside and work back toward us. Nyra, Kyler, you head east from here until you meet them.”

As Aderyn directed the others to the far side of the wall, Dryden shot a grin at me, eyes squinted against the midday sun. “Race you to the end of the wall?”

Before I could answer, he kicked his mare into a gallop, disappearing in a cloud of dust. Despite the gravity of recent events, I found myself smiling too as I urged Daiti forward with the squeeze of my thighs and a murmured command. He leapt forward with an eagerness I would have expected if I hadn’t exercised him outside the wall in a week.

As the wind of our hectic ride pushed back my hood, tendrils of hair pulled free from my twist, as if the desert wanted to play with them, running her hands through my silky strands. The sounds of Aderyn’s voice were drowned by the pounding of Daiti’s hooves in time with the beating of my heart.

We quickly caught Dryden and his mount, a laugh tearing itself from me as Daiti plunged past them, the muscles in his neck flexing in time with his extended gait. I let myself revel in the feeling of lightness that filled me out here on the sands with no walls to hold me. As much as Kelvadan had become my purpose, the closest thing I ever had to a home, I missed the feel of the sand beneath me and sun above me, the horizon stretching as far as the eye could see in every direction with equally endless possibilities. Riding brought me more peace than all my hours of attempted meditation with Queen Ginevra.

Approaching the cliff where the walls joined the mountain, I slowed Daiti to a trot. I looked over my shoulder at Dryden, still galloping to catch up with me. As he pulled astride and slowed his own mount, he shook his head, the look of defeat on his face too exaggerated to be genuine.

“You wound my pride. I hope the Trials this year don’t have too many riding events, or I’ll be eliminated early.” Dryden panted.

“On the contrary, I’m hoping for many riding events.” I had spent many sleepless nights trying to puzzle out what the Trials might entail, but Aderyn and the queen remained tight-lipped throughout the preparations. Despite their desire for me to win, they refused to share any details for the planned events, worried that accusations of cheating might hurt my credibility or have me ejected from the tournament.

So, I had tried to puzzle through what challenges might await me, apart from the duels that were the traditional final event. I didn’t mind my loss of sleep, as I had been visited by another troublesome dream as I rested two nights ago. This time, the Viper sat across from me in a small tent, a plate of dates between us.

As he ate one, I wrinkled my nose. “I’ve eaten too many dates in my lifetime.”

At that, the Viper let out a truncated sound startlingly close to a laugh for somebody so fearsome, although his laughter didn’t strike me as odd until after I woke. “Are you even allowed to live in the Ballan Desert if you don’t like dates?”

“I don’t dislike them.” I shrugged. “There were just too many times where they were all I had.” I stared at the plate, and the fruit transformed into oranges in the helpful way things sometimes do in a dream.

The Viper frowned. “I was enjoying them.”

“Well, I prefer oranges.”

We reached out for the plate at the same time, and our hands collided. While everything around me remained hazy and out of focus, his hand against mine was jarringly solid, a jolt of reality in a nighttime vision. The warmth of his touch had jerked me from sleep.

I woke with a gasp and returned to considering the Trials and avoiding odd dreams of the man I would compete with for the fate of the desert in a matter of days. Perhaps the dreams were just my mind’s attempt at puzzling out the masked Viper. After all, I had been hoping for more word from Oren on my competitor—who he was under the mask or how he came to have such a position of power—but Queen Ginevra’s spy had remained silent. From the worried crease between the queen’s brows whenever I asked if Oren had sent a falcon, the lack of information on the Viper concerned her too.

Dryden brought me back to the present by speaking. “I guess I’ll have to hope we don’t race each other on horseback too early on.”

I nodded and patted Daiti’s neck, turning toward the wall to do as Aderyn had bid. I scanned upward, still in awe of the solid sheet of rock that surrounded the city. Before I could ensure this section of wall was without fault, a rustle sounded behind me.

Dryden’s yelp split the air, followed by a terrible howl. I wheeled around. A red wolf flew through the air at Dryden whose mount sidled out of the way, eyes rolling in her head. The dodge kept the wolf from unseating Dryden as it might have, but it still caught his arm in its jaws.

A scream tore from Dryden’s lips as several smaller wolves approached from the far side. I reached for my sling in my belt instinctually, heart skipping a beat when I came up empty. Dryden grunted in pain as he tried to shake the wolf loose, serrated teeth ripping the sleeve of his robe, now stained crimson. He didn’t see the predators approaching from the other side.