Page 17 of Tashama
She motioned for everyone to be quiet. A guard uniformed in the same manner as the palace guard at Banff caught her eye, and she shuddered to see the sight.
“What’s wrong?” the healer asked.
“Who’s the guard standing on the wall walk?”
“Aleron’s own palace guard.”
She took a deep breath when the prince and his men headed out of the compound. “They’re watching me. They’ll come for me soon, I fear.”
“To what end?”
“That—I don’t know.”
Tashama walked back into the tent with the healer. “Was a mapmaker taken prisoner?”
“Yes, miss, but...”
“I don’t believe the general will allow me to speak to his men. Will you have the mapmaker illustrate enough maps for”—she counted in the air—“fifteen men?”
“Will you lead them?”
Tashama smiled. “A woman? Surely you jest?” Walking over to the cots where one of the wounded men rested, she touched his shoulder, felt his essence, his future life in the palm of her hand. “You’ll live long enough to marry your girl back home and spend an eternity with her.” He beamed, grabbed her hand, and squeezed it tightly.
She made her way to the next bed. She touched the man’s cheek and smiled. “You have a new young’un at home, and you’ll soon be there to bounce him on your knee.”
“A boy? After six girls, I’m finally going to have a boy!”
“Do not touch me, woman!” the next man scowled. “My life grows dimmer with every breath I take.” Though she intended topass him by at his request, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it hard.
“Ah!” she cried out, tears filling her eyes when his fingers dug into her cuts.
“Let her go!” several of the men shouted from their beds.
“What is this?” the general demanded, storming into the tent.
“You’re hurting my wrist!” Tashama cried out and tried to pry the man’s fingers from her arm when they dug deeper into the wound. His thoughts intermingled with hers; her heart thundered. The general grabbed the man’s hand and wrenched it free, while the healer administered a sedative to the patient. “He murdered his very own family,” Tashama said under her breath and sank to her knees.
“Stay away from my men, woman!” the general shouted as the healer helped her back to her bed.
“Are you General Karam?” she asked, not to be cowed.
“You’re not to speak to anyone here, do you understand?”
“She has the gift, General,” one of the patients said.
The general shook his head. “She’s tricking you.”
Tashama stood. “I must leave here. I cannot stay. I must find Bal, Balfour. I cannot understand why he has not come for me before now.”He would know what I have to do.
“This Balfour…is he one of Prince Aleron’s men? Why has he sent you here?” the general demanded.
“What?” Tashama stared at him in disbelief. He thought she was a spy for the prince? She headed for the entrance of the tent, then turned to face him. “You may be a great leader on the battlefield, but you have a lot to learn about diplomacy.”
Tashama hurried outside, where the men had dispersed according to the general’s orders. She walked to the west wall and began surveying the perimeter of the camp. A quarter of thedistance around the barrier, she noticed the guards on the wall walk studying her movements.
She took a deep breath, then turned to find the prisoners watching her while they stood in clusters about the camp. Turning her gaze back to the wall, she ran her hand over the moss-covered stone structure. When she came to a set of stairs winding up to the top of the wall walk, she made a mental note of its location.
A bird nestled in an alcove caught her eye.Aleron cannot keep you here any longer than he can imprison me.She paused, envisioning the sight of the prince sitting proudly upon his steed.You could not stay away from me, oh prince. I didn’t think I would have such an effect on you.She grabbed a curl tickling her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.
