Page 36 of Dalla's Royal Guards
“Thank you. Would you like something?”
“I’ll take a water,” he said.
“If there are any coffees, I’ll take one,” Nasser said, yawning.
“One coffee and one water,” she said, holding out the bottles between the seats.
“Do you know where we are going once we get to the mountains?” Musad asked.
“Yes… but we will have to hike in. I doubt there will be a road to where we are going,” she said.
A glance at his brother told him that Nasser hadn’t missed the soft catch in her voice either. Whatever had happened there still meant a lot to her.
“Turn up there,” she instructed, pointing to a spot up on the left side of the highway.
Musad frowned when he saw a narrow dirt road. They had been traveling for over an hour, with one brief stop at a checkpoint on the Simdan border. The soldiers had been pleasant but cautious. Musad and Nasser had presented their documentation.
The issue came when the guard had asked for Dalla’s papers. Nasser had stepped out of the SUV and walked with the guard to a small building while his companion remained alert. A brief call later, the young soldier and Nasser had returned, and the guards had politely bowed and wished them a pleasant journey before opening the gate.
Since the checkpoint, there had been little traffic along the route. Most merchants and visitors were trying to avoid the area until the regime was more stable. Given the last two days, Musad didn’t blame them.
He turned off the highway where Dalla had pointed and followed the road a short distance. The road ended in a large circle that looked like it had been used as a staging area when the highway was being built and continued to be used by travelers as a camping spot. Trash and the remnants of an old firepit pocked the area.
He pulled along the circle before stopping in the shade of one of the high cliffs that lined the loop. He shifted the Land Cruiser into park and stared up at the sheer walls. Graffiti marred most of the lower section.
“Are you sure this is where you want to go?” he asked, his voice laced with doubt.
“Yes. It has changed since I was last here, but this is the place,” she responded, pushing open the door.
He killed the engine, unbuckled, and stepped out. Sliding out, he turned in a circle, trying to see the area through her eyes. Nasser slid out of the other side of the vehicle and raised an eyebrow at him. He shrugged—just as clueless as Nasser.
“Now, we climb,” she announced.
“We need to get our packs,” Nasser said hastily.
Musad walked around to the back of the Land Cruiser, pulled his pack forward, and added water and food before pulling forward the duffle bag containing an assortment of weapons. They might be in Simdan, but that didn’t mean they were safe.
“This should be fun,” Nasser muttered.
“I just hope we have a vehicle by the time we get back,” he said, keeping his voice low as he peered through the tinted window at Dalla.
She was standing several feet away from them with her longbow and quiver of arrows strapped to her back. The arrows protruded high above her head and almost to her knees. This was the first time he had really noticed how long they were. It was incredible that she could fit one and fire it the way she did.
“Ready?” Nasser asked.
Musad nodded. “Yes. Let me hide these in the compartment underneath.”
He pushed the ice chest aside and lifted the carpet covering the hidden compartment, stashed the duffle bag in the hole, and then closed and locked the compartment. The last thing he wanted was a bunch of drunk teenagers breaking into the vehicle and discovering a small armory of lethal weapons.
He closed the back hatch and locked the vehicle. Dalla looked at them when they walked over to her and gave them a brisk nod before she turned and began walking.
They followed her as she hiked along the walled canyon to the opening and up a worn path to the left, walking along the ragged edge. A quarter of a kilometer to the north, a crack in the rocks opened up. Dalla ran her fingers along a weathered inscription in the rock before she began climbing.
Musad cursed under his breath. Nasser didn’t bother keeping his curses quiet. If they were climbing to the top, it was going to be a long afternoon.
He gripped a section of rock and pulled himself up. Sweat beaded on his brow, dampening his hair and running down his spine as the early afternoon sun beat down on them.
“I’m so looking forward to a shower the first chance I get,” Nasser grumbled behind him.
