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“ ... not with so many guards. There are some women who have been captive there for ten years and more. Like poor Isobel.” She looked over to the woman talking with Finn. She was attractive, but thirty if she was a day, and thinner than his friend usually preferred. Plus there appeared to be a livid scar on one side of her face. He had to peer closer to see if his eyes were playing him false, but, nay, Finn was indeed gazing at the woman as if he’d discovered gold.
He and Drifa exchanged an amused glance.
It was decided to split the nine of them into three groups heading in different directions, but with the ultimate destination being Miklagard, where both Sidroc and Drifa had longships that could take them away, if it became necessary. They hoped to confuse any enemy followers and weaken their ranks. No one was surprised when Finn chose Isobel and Ulf to ride with him. Farle and Gismun would travel with Ianthe. And he would be with Drifa and Ivar.
They all sat about the oasis, having a last cold meal together before separating. The skies were still dark, which would be an advantage if their escape was to succeed. It would be hours before dawn.
“I want to go home,” Drifa told him.
“To Byzantium?”
“Nay, to the Norselands.”
“Mayhap you should. Leastways everyone has been advising such from the beginning.”
“Are you going to gloat?”
“Just a little.” He smiled. “If Ivar rides ahead later and gets there before us, he can make ready your longship. If we get there first, I can put you in the hands of your seaman.”
“Where are you going? Aren’t you leaving, too?”
“Eventually, but I refuse to leave without getting my Varangian pay for the past year. The emperor owes me.”
“Well, that is all right because I am not leaving without my sketchbooks and paints, and the roots that Ianthe saved for me, plus seedlings and grafts that the imperial gardener promised. The jewelry I left in my palace chamber is worth a fortune. And I still need to buy a gift for my father. When I said I want to go home, I didn’t mean immediately.”
Sidroc rolled his eyes, as did Ivar, who had heard it all from her other side.
“Do what you will,” Sidroc said on a long sigh. “You will anyway.”
“Nay, you misspeak me, Sidroc. What I meant is that I can wait for you.”
“Did I ask you to?”
“Aaarrgh!” She seemed to brace herself. “I want you to come to Stoneheim with me.”
Her pronouncement was met with his silence.
The Big Reveal was really big! ...
Lackwit! Lackwit! Lackwit! Drifa berated herself for her clumsy words and was about to try again in a more subtle fashion, but Gismun yelled, “Men coming! Men on horseback coming!”
While properly shod horses could travel across the desert just fine, they could not go long distances without water or rest. Camels, on the other hand, could last for long stretches without stopping.
While Drifa hid behind the camels with the two women, their six men fought valiantly for an hour or more, leaving on the desert floor ten enemy dead, and only minor wounds on Finn, which Isobel was already tending. All the men in her group, but especially Sidroc, were skilled swordsmen. She had to admire their talents. In truth, the six of them were comparable to twice or thrice their number of other fighting men. She could see why Sidroc and Finn had been recruited for the Varangians. She could see why her father had chosen these four particular guardsmen for her safety.
“No more dawdling,” Sidroc said to her a short time later. “Time to get up on Lucifer and get out of here.”
Dawdling? She had been waiting for him. The lout! “Lucifer?”
“My camel. The camel from hell. You know, the One-God religion’s evil one.” He pointed over to where one particular camel stood apart from the other five.
“For shame! You can’t call that lovely camel Lucifer.”
“Why not?”
“For one thing, ’tis a nasty name for such a beautiful animal.” They walked toward the animal and Drifa stroked its snarled pelt. In truth, it was a smelly beast, and not at all comely, despite what she’d said to Sidroc. But she had always held that animals had feelings, too, and ’twas not nice to speak ill of them in their presence.
“Are you referring to the selfsame beast that likes to spit on me and fart to the beat of its plodding hoof steps?”
