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Taking in the sights, she was also aware of where Amshazar was, at all times. It made her skin tingle and her blood heat when she noticed him watching her as well. Silent questions passed back and forth between them as they observed each other. He was waiting, too, she realized now. He was waiting for her to speak to him. Soon. Soon they would speak. Anticipation flooded through her.
The occasional dwellings they came upon held small groups of shy inhabitants who emerged to observe their passing. She insisted they pause a while here and there, and the people brought them out fresh water, speaking with her enthusiastically, waving them on as they went. Where Xerxes was impatient and concerned for her safety at these times, Amshazar seemed to watch her with a more curious, sympathetic gaze.
The land and its immense space fascinated her, so very different to the heavily walled city and clustered homes within Suzin, already so far behind them. Having only ever traveled a few hours at a time, the journey was becoming an experience in itself, bringing welcome relief from her preoccupations. This route was one that had been followed by some of the visitors who had stopped in Suzin over the years, those who made their lives on the trade routes, bringing precious, rare items for sale, incense, ivory and silks. Carved boxes, jewels and spices, their wares providing them with funds to live on, and hospitality along the way. It made her curious. What would it be like to travel that way, to live an adventure every day? The journey was opening her mind to new possibilities.
She ventured away from her companions, ignoring Yoshi's constant complaints about the journey, and the twins’ lighthearted flirting with Kerr. Instead she led Fidda, rather than simply allowing him to follow the troupe before them. Fidda galloped up and down the caravan, passing amongst the line of mules that carried great blankets bulging with the goods that unwound into their dwellings for the night. She rode past the camels that brought up the rear of the caravan, heaped high with many boxes carrying supplies and possessions.
Riding alongside Xerxes a while, she observed his powerful presence over his men. She had never had a chance to see him in his role as a leader of The Immortals outside the city, and it intrigued her. She noticed with pride how he kept everything in order, and how he warily kept note of where their Karseedian companions were. He watched Sibias and Amshazar above all, especially
when they talked between themselves, along the journey.
She galloped past the two of them at such a moment herself, in her passage up and down the great snake of the caravan weaving its meandering line over the land. Again, Amshazar held her gaze. The low set of his headdress only served to accentuate his handsome face, the sharpness of his features and his sensuous mouth. His hair twisted amongst the folds of material, entwining the shimmering burnished strands with palest blue draped against his neck. He and Sibias paused on their conversation when she drew near. She slowed Fidda, but did not halt until he spoke directly to her.
"You swoop amongst us like the desert hawks, Elishiba,” Amshazar called, eyeing her floating robes, the swathe of white linens that covered her from head to toe. The thin, gleaming material reflected the sun, whilst also making her an unmistakable figure amongst the variously robed travelers.
He pointed overhead.
She looked up and noticed a trio of hawks, circling high above them, moving in synchronized and harmonious patterns, casting shadows in the bright sunshine.
"They hope for failure in our journey, for their subsequent feasting.” He smiled, insinuatingly. His words always seemed to hold an undercurrent of suggestion, and warning.
She unlatched her veil, curious as to his deeper meaning, wishing she could question him openly. “Do you expect failure?"
"Never.” His suggestive tone reminded her of another encounter, when he had remarked upon the curiosity that rose between them. The look in his eyes confirmed that curiosity was still mutual.
She felt her skin heat. To distract herself from his tone, she backed her mount up, turning him gently with a subtle shift of her hand on his reins, to move in step alongside them. “I'll try not to read complacency in your comment, Amshazar."
"Failure is a result of complacency, not the reverse. I myself have no intention of entertaining either complacency, or failure.” There was such a teasing tone in his voice and his expression, that Elishiba found herself smiling, thinking back to his actions on behalf of the young Aleemite in the city, the boy he had saved from the shayatin.
"Such talk of failure,” Sibias announced, with false merriment. “We are about to forge a great alliance, let's forget the uninvited hawks who ride with us.” He glared at Amshazar, as if in warning.
Elishiba chuckled softly. To see Sibias flustered by their curious interchange amused her. Amshazar acknowledged her amusement, and their underlying conversation, reminding her again of their secret encounters. Her gaze fell to his hands on the reins of his mount. How she longed for the touch of them.
Sibias looked from one to the other of them, and opened his mouth as if to comment again, but Elishiba urged her horse on, and threw her veil back across her face, before he had further chance to comment.
For the rest of the day Amshazar eyed her openly, which kept the arousal he kindled in her simmering beneath her skin. Warm embers of anticipation glowed inside her.
By early evening, they had crossed over into the territory of Karseedia. A dark and uneasy atmosphere crept over the terrain, as real and ominous as if it were a swarm of death ghouls descending upon them. Elishiba sensed it in the atmosphere, and saw it reflected in the eyes of those traveling with her. They were alert to it too; aware that they were no longer in their homeland and more, that discontent was breeding in the very air itself here in this neighboring land.
The sun disappeared and the evening grew cold. They set up camp and Elishiba watched gratefully as fires were lit and her tent was erected. It was vast and comfortable in comparison to the smaller tents everyone else would bed down in that night. Even so, Yoshi trundled around the tent, complaining bitterly that she would have to burn precious incense to rid them of the smell of camel dung while plumping flattened cushions and trying to make some semblance of comfort for them all.
Amra and Elra stayed close by her side. They had adopted Kerr into their service, keeping him close by too, supplying him with tasks and teasing him with sips of their wine, and bites of the roast meat and warmed bread they had brought in from the campfires.
Elishiba ate a little and sipped a glass of wine, then donned a heavy cloak and left them to their flirting. Her silent unease at being on Karseedian territory was forcing her to take action. She walked out into the night, gesturing at the sentry stationed outside the tent, indicating that she should be left alone, and walked quickly into the darkness at the edge of the camp. A short climb had her up on the rocks above the enclave where they had halted for the night. The sky was vast and clear, the desert night air crisp and alive with mystery. The moonlight spilled an eerie passage of pale light through the dark sky. She shivered and drew her cloak tighter around herself.
Looking down at the sprawl of tents, interspersed haphazardly with the glowing embers of fires fading into the night, she could make out the dim inner lights of the many tents, and watched the shadowy movements therein, the occasional stirrings of music and voices reaching her through the still night air.
Where are you, Amshazar?
Lingering images of him upon his stallion that day stalked her memory; his teasing words haunted her, his knowing smile, his watchful ways. He reminded her of a poem she had heard told of a creature called a panther, a sleek black cat, waiting to step out of the jungle shadows, to meet its mate. Prowling, he was always prowling and watching. She wondered about his presence in this; he seemed not quite to fit with the rest of those involved, and yet moved amongst them so easily, so ever-present. She wondered, too, if others noticed and felt his presence, as much as she did. Since the day before, his insinuating ways made more sense, even though she could not begin to explain it.
As if in response to her thoughts, she saw his distinctive outline pass swiftly through the camp, and into one of the outer tents. A light flared within, but she could not make out any further movement.
Where had he been? she wondered. Conferring with Sibias again, perhaps. Could she get to know him, truly? Her practical nature meant she had to find out, to confront the questions he had planted in her, directly. And now she knew where to find him. Her chest grew tight with anticipation. She stood up, moving quickly down into the encampment, through the tents and toward the spot where she had seen him.
The path through the campsite seemed fraught with obstacles; a figure emerged in front of her, suddenly, gesticulating to someone and laughing. Elishiba pulled her veil close to hide herself from the man's view, as he turned to speculate on her flitting shadow. She raced past him, not wanting to know if she recognized him or not.
She was just a few steps away from his tent when she began to reconsider. Was this wise? The notion that she was under his spell once again crossed her mind, but she shook it off. As she did, the skin on the back of her neck prickled with awareness. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Sibias passing. His eyes were narrowed as he observed her there. Was he following her, or had he been on his way to see Amshazar? Just as she was about to say something, make an excuse for her presence in this part of the encampment, a cruel smile passed over his face. His eyes glittered in the darkness, and then he left the spot without acknowledging her.
