Page 18 of Forty Days and One Knight
She placed her hand in his and let him help her to her feet, groaning as her stiff muscles protested. Picking up her jacket, Darius held it for her to slip her arms into it. After drawing the zipper up to her neck, she turned to see him pull on his own parka. The large, semi-automatic rifle she’d seen earlier went over that, and she doubted that was the only weapon he had with him. With his dark hair, scruffy beard, and valiant determination, Darius appeared every bit the warrior she knew he would be if danger crossed their paths. He would do everything in his power to get her to safety, and she trusted him with her life.
The last thing he grabbed was the tarp. After shaking the dirt from it, he used a knife to cut a large square from it. After tucking the knife and smaller section into his pocket, he folded the rest of the tarp in half, then draped it over her head and back. “It’s still raining. The drier you are, the warmer you’ll be.”
“What about you?”
A small smile appeared under his facial hair. “After spending half my Navy SEAL BUD/s training in the cold ocean, this is a walk in the park, Princess. Don’t worry about me.” He glanced toward the front of the cave before his gaze returned to her. “I need you to promise me something, though. If I tell you to do anything out there—be quiet, get down, run, anything—promise me you’ll do it without hesitation. I need to know you’ll obey me if things go FUBAR out there.”
His request wasn’t unfamiliar to her. Bodyguard obedience, in times of danger, had been drilled into her since she’d been little. She knew any wavering in her response to their orders could result in herself or one of her guards being hurt, or worse, killed. She tilted her head. “I will do as I am told, Darius, that will not be a problem, but I do have one question.”
“What’s that?”
“What is fubar?”
The corners of his mouth lifted again, and she wished she could see the dimples she knew were there. A low chuckle rumbled from his massive chest. “It’s an acronym often used in the military and law enforcement. It means messed up beyond all recognition, and that’s the polite way of saying it.”
It wasn’t difficult to figure out which word he’d replaced, and she thought it was sweet he’d curbed his language for her—not that she hadn’t been exposed to cursing before, but the people she knew did not use vulgarities in the presence of royalty, especially in public.
“Then you have nothing to worry about. If things go ... FUBAR ...” It was a funny thing to say and almost drew a giggle from her. “... I will follow your orders immediately.”
“Good. And I want you to drink some more water to stay hydrated. Do you need to go and take care of anything before we head out?”
She knew what he was asking, but she had no desire to urinate again. Not if she had to deal with that burning pain again. Later, she would have no choice, but for now, she wanted to put it off for as long as possible. “No. I am ready.”
Following him to the front of the cave, she waited while he refilled the leaf. He handed it to her to drink, then pulled out the section of the tarp he’d cut off. He rinsed it off in the rain. Stepping outside, he snatched a bunch of leaves, like the one she was holding, from a nearby plant and then cut a section of narrow vine that was clinging to the outer walls of the cave. Bringing everything back to her, he gave her the piece of tarp. “Hold that open for me.”
When she complied, he laid the leaves on top of the tarp, overlapping them several times. Once that was done, he took it from her and held it under the rain again. It finally made sense what he’d done. It was a pouch that would hold water for their journey, since the rain wouldn’t last much longer. Who knew if they’d come across a fresh stream that was safe to drink from?
Folding up the edges, he let the sack fill with water, then closed off the top with his hand. Again, he handed it to her. “Hold it just like that so I can tie off the top.” Using the vine, he secured the improvised flask, then tied it to the belt at his lower back.
Readying his rifle, Darius led Tahira into the rain. This was the first look she had of what was outside their shelter. Tall trees, spotted underbrush, and uneven terrain surrounded them. The sun had risen a short time ago, but the clouds and trees hid it from view. They had to walk down a slight hill before the ground leveled out, and Darius held her hand until they reached the bottom.
“Stay behind me. There’s no beaten path so we’ll have to make our own. Let me know if you have to take a break for any reason, and I’ll find us some cover.”
They silently trudged through the mud and foliage at a slow but steady pace. Tahira estimated it was about forty-five minutes before Darius veered to the right and stopped at a fallen tree behind some underbrush. The rain had stopped approximately fifteen minutes prior.
After giving her some of the water from the pouch, he took a few sips himself then secured it again at his waist. “I have to duck behind that tree over there. If you need to, you can take care of your own personal business here. I’ll call out before I come back.”
A short time later, Tahira had relieved herself, and now she was trying to force the painful flashes of her rape from her mind along with the scalding sensation between her legs. As much as she wanted to get back to civilization and the safety of Timasur or the United States, every step they took brought her toward her unwanted future as a spinster. She tried to focus on how to convince her father to retract his ultimatum. She could tell him the truth, but she couldn’t bear to pass her pain on to her parents. They loved her unconditionally, but from the moment she told them of her assault, they would forever see her as a victim. She was damaged, and she feared the heartache and pity she would see in her parents’ eyes when they looked at her.
After making sure she was decent, Darius returned. “Here. Eat this.” Her eyes narrowed at the brown and ivory lump he held out to her. “It’s a non-poisonous mushroom native to the area. They grow on tree trunks, just above the ground. I peeled off the surface, so it’s clean to eat.”
With his other hand, he held up a second mushroom, then took a bite out of it. Tahira accepted the large chunk of fungi and nibbled on the meaty flesh. The woodsy flavor exploded on her taste buds, causing her stomach to growl. It had been over twelve hours since she’d eaten her last meal, if it could even be called that. The scant serving of spicy rice and beans had barely been enough to fill her stomach. Right now, the mushroom tasted like the best thing on Earth, and she quickly finished it off. Darius pulled more out of his parka’s pocket, handed her another piece, and gestured in the direction they’d been heading earlier. “We’ll eat on the way. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”
“How do you know we are going in the right direction.”
He tapped his watch with his finger. “This has a ton of features in it—a compass being one of them. I memorized the coordinates to our destination before I went undercover.”
Falling in line behind him as he took off again, she remembered something. “When I first woke up after you rescued me, you said you had been undercover in a drug cartel, yes?”
“Yeah, I did.” He pointed to the ground on his right side. “Watch your step. There’s some scat.”
Avoiding the brown lumps of feces from a large animal, she continued, “But if they were a drug cartel, why were we there—my cousins and I and the other women?”
He glanced over his shoulder with a grimace. “Because drugs aren’t the only crimes bastards like that deal in to line their pockets—drugs, human trafficking, child pornography, guns, and anything else that they can make money on. Nothing is off limits to most of them. Although, every once in a while, we come across a crime boss with scruples, but it’s rare.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes, then Darius asked, “Princess, did you really mean what you said earlier? About being ostracized if it’s revealed what happened to you?”
Her eyes widened as she stared at his back. “Yes! Please, Darius, you cannot tell anyone—”
